Death

Ken's eyes shot open as the images of long brunette hair swaying with the sea breeze started to fade from his mind, his breath caught in his throat, blood rushing through neck while his heart drummed against his chest. For a moment his eyes were wide and watery, and then they closed slowly as if being pulled down by metal weights, an exhausted sound that was a mixture of a groan and a sigh escaping his raspy throat. It had been three years since, yet he still couldn't bear the weight of her absence which dragged him down every waking moment, making his words soft and muted, his thoughts cloudy and confusing, his every action sluggish. Truth be told he didn't want to rise from the cold mattress. He hadn't wanted to for so long that he couldn't recall the last time he woke up feeling motivated. But... He knew that staying in bed all day wasn't an option. He had a job, he had bills to pay, a fat lazy dog to feed -and most importantly- he had to take care of Allyson. He took two minutes to simply stare at the water droplets accumulating from the cold on his window as they slowly slid down the foggy surface of the glass. And then he forced himself onto his feet with another groan, albeit one that was a lot less grumpy.

Allyson was still sleeping and even though Yui woke up at sunrise Ken knew he hadn't moved an inch from his bed, so he made his breakfast as quietly as possible. Single cup of coffee, plain white rice with eggs on top, two fried fish. Once he was done with his meal he got his lunch out of the fridge, unable to contain his smile as he looked at the neatly organized interior of the plain bag despite how he was feeling. He quietly headed back upstairs, opening the door to her room while being as silent as possible. Alysson was comfortably buried under a thick colorful blanket and a legion of plushies, like the Pharaohs of old, except a lot cozier. Carefully he leaned over her, gently planting a kiss on a tangled mat of bronze hair. Her shoulders and legs shifted underneath the blanket and she grumbled something indiscernible, "I love you, Lyn Lyn," he told her with a tender voice and a fragile but genuine smile.

"Shmufmalomadona too dad..." She managed to string together in a monotone voice though Ken knew there was warmth in her words. He let out a miniscule chuckle.

"Breakfast is waiting for you in the kitchen," he added before he headed out.

"Shebluhjinolsomshmmm..." She replied in acknowledgment as her speech increasingly became quieter and more slurred. His smile widened by just a fraction of an inch and he headed for the door, but not before dropping the bones of the fish he had eaten in the bowl at the foot of Yui's bed, the obese dog wagging his tail in joy as it dramatically opened its mouth attempted to stretch its neck enough to reach the treats without having to stand up.

A few minutes later Ken was sitting in his car, taking a deep breath before turning the key, igniting the engine and reversing out of the small parking space. The usual daily test of his patience ensued, complete with the unmoving traffic jams, the occasional honks, the disdainful exhausted or exasperated looks of the drivers around him, and the grey cloudy skies that always threatened rain but never delivered it. Once he finally pulled into his usual parking spot he took several minutes to just sit back and gaze up at the mildly beige roof of his Toyota.

You're doing this for a reason. You're doing this for a reason he had to remind himself over and over again until he was somewhat convinced of it. That's when he looked down at the watch on his wrist and he realized his shift was about to start. With wide eyes and a sudden surge of energy he jumped out of the car, closing the door loudly and rushing away before turning around and walking back to the car, killing the engine, grabbing his keys, and locking the doors before hurrying away once again.

As he ran on the pale concrete floor he felt the cold of the damp breeze on his face, saw the faint white glow of the sun through the varying shades of grey up above, smelled the familiar scent of the wheat cooking in the nearby food place, and he heard the sound the sound of his soles clacking against the surface of the ground. It was yet another day like the thousands that had come before, and the thousands that would come after, some warmer, some colder, a few with clear blue skies and the rest with cloudy weather like today. Sometimes he would wear a silk shirt and other times he'd wear cotton, one week his socks would be white and the next they would be black. But nothing really changed. Everything stayed the same -or rather- it went in circles, over and over and over again. He was wearing a suit and tight shoes, running across this exact floor, at this hour, wearing the exact cologne, with a bag in one hand and his keys in the other. Nothing ever really changed, not since that day.

In the middle of this long and melodramatic internal monologue, a car swerved around the corner Ken had been running across, sending him flying as if he weighed nothing.