THESE DARK HEARTS | Tooru Oikawa (Murder of Crows)

2. Sorrows on the Wind

Oikawa wished the wind would take away his sorrows. Take them far, far away, up beyond the whispering clouds to become dying, forgotten stars.

He could taste rain in the air, and sadness and longing. The trees at the end of their life. Old leaves withering in the old earth.

It was early, and the streets were empty. The world passed by Oikawa in tepid shades of grey and white as he left the hospital, flowers on his mind. He needed ones that smelled strong enough to mask the stench of his mother's decay. Flowers stronger than death.

The wind was heavy, brushing ghostly fingers along the back of his neck, and he kept his eyes on his feet as he walked.

Flowers and rain and longing, all tangled up in his head.

all tangled up-

-so nothing makes sense anymore.

It was too early for anywhere to be open, he realised as he walked. Too early for this, too early to be walking here. It was all too still and too empty and too quiet.

Wood creaked in the wind, and he looked up. A sign was hanging from the gutter at the end of the street, neat and simple with a splash of green paint and a white flower pot. Carnations. His mother loved carnations.

It was a flower shop.

The sign swung again, beckoning him forward.

And he went, just as it started to rain. Water slid down his cheeks and dripped from his lashes

cold rain and forgotten sorrows and flowers in the dead soil

as Oikawa reached the flower shop. There was a sign on the door that said they were closed, but when he peered inside, he saw a shadow, someone on the other side. Their eyes met, distorted through the glass, and Oikawa realised he wasn't alone after all

-all in my head, it's all in my head.

The girl inside held his stare for a long, surprised second, and then made her way to the door. The rain had plastered his hair down to his scalp, and Oikawa pushed it out of his face with numb fingers.

When the girl unlocked the door, he forced a watery smile.

"Come in, quickly," she said, holding the door open for him as the rain grew heavier, drumming at the pavement, his heart beating in time.

He ducked inside, his head almost knocking the bell that tinkled above the doorway, and cleared his throat. "Thank you for letting me in," he said. Water dripped from his coat, collecting at his feet.

The girl smiled at him, and Oikawa couldn't help but notice how it made the freckles on her cheeks bunch together, like stars in a dark sky. "I couldn't leave you out there. Feel free to dry off by the heater."

"Thank you," he said again, dragging his feet towards the radiator at the back of the shop. He held out his hands, watching the raindrops on his fingertips dissipate.

"I'm looking for some flowers," he said, glancing at the girl.

"Well, you're in the right place," she said lightly.

He looked down, at the water he had tread into the shop, unable to meet her eyes as he spoke. "Do you have anything that... smells strong?"

He felt her release a soft breath, one that stirred the air around him, and she turned away, muttering to herself. "Let me see what we have." Oikawa was glad she didn't ask any more questions. "Hm, how about freesias? They're not too common around here, but they have a really strong, sweet scent." She picked a single flower from the bucket, holding it towards him. The smell made Oikawa feel sick, but he nodded anyway.

"Perfect," he said, and forced another smile. "My mother will love them."

The girl nodded, her head moving slightly to the side as she studied him. He shifted his weight, looking away, wondering if she thought him odd.

"Great," she said after a moment, moving over to her workbench. It was a cluster of torn petals and clipped stalks and thorns and leaves, and Oikawa eyed it all with absent interest. "Doesn't look like the rain's letting up out there," she said as she worked, measuring the flowers, trimming their stems, then wrapping them in white tissue paper that made a pleasant crinkling noise. "Do you have far to walk?"

"Hm, no, the hospital isn't too far," he said, listening to the rain, like fingers, tapping

tap, tapp, tap

against the glass. Something about it sounded mocking, and he turned agitatedly away from the heater. The flower girl finished tying a bow on the bouquet, pushing it towards him. "All done," she said, smiling again.

She smiles a lot, he thought. She seems nice.

"That looks great. Thank you," he said, digging through his pockets for some money.

"I... I hope your mother likes them," she said slowly, her smile changing, becoming softer at the edges, sadder. As if she knew, knew his mother was dying. As if she knew he would be all alone when she was gone. Alone and forgotten and

a dying forgotten star, lost too far above the clouds.

As if she knew what that was like.

Oikawa nodded, told her to keep the change, and left the flower shop.

Nobody could know what that was like.