First Love at Second Life ( HAKUOKI FANFIC)

The Beginning of an End

" You're always playing your game. You should hang out with your friends more and get married already. "
It's not unusual for dad to say such caring words for me first thing in the morning.

" My husband is in this game, dad. We're just separated by a thin glass from my PSP. "

I pour the porridge from the pan to a bowl for my dad to eat. He seems getting weaker lately.

If his time has getting near, I want him to eat delicious food of my cooking. That way, both of us should have less regret.

" ... I'm sorry, it must be because of me that you can't have your own time. "
I'm not surprised, hearing dad saying such negative things to me so early in the morning. I'm getting used to something that is not supposed to be.

I sit myself near him and take his spoon beside his bowl. Looking at him straight in the eye, I can tell his guilt and keep blaming himself just from his tired eyes. Before me, is my beloved father. His thin white hair and wrinkled skin face, with freckles here and there, though his appearance may not be the same anymore, he's still as handsome as I remembered from 10 years ago.

" Dad, I'm your daughter. It's already been my duty to take care of you in your old days. I've lived in comfort all this time, now it's my turn to make you comfortable as well. "
Holding his palm on top of the table, I tapped it for a few times then proceed to help him eat.

*Rrrrr* *Rrrrr*

Suddenly a call from work halted my hands. Even though this is supposed to be my day off, can't cut me some slack, can they?

" Go on, answer your work. I can take care of myself just fine. "

" H-huh? Oh if that's so... thank you dad. "

" ...It's me who should thank you. "
Again with those expression. So gloomy and accompanied by farewell-like words. It's so ominous.

" I'll be quick, okay? "
I said as I give the bowl to him and answer the call immediately.

I don't feel very comfortable when I answer a phone call from work in front of my dad. And I guess dad notice this as well, he said it's fine and no need to be bother myself with him. But I just don't want to make dad sad by making him feel all nostalgic and pitiful for quitting his job to recuperate.

Eventually I'd always take my work away from him.
" Was it to comfort him? Or myself? "
Sometimes I'd keep asking that to myself even though I don't know the answer.

Or... maybe I just don't want to answer it honestly. But it's fine... all of this... is for my dad's sake.

After done with my phone call, I returned to the dining table hoping to help my dad feed himself. If nothing else, then maybe I can help with—
" Huh? "

I scan over the room... the dining table and even the living room... or the kitchen, but dad's nowhere to be found.
" He must've been go to the bathroom then. He didn't bring his food with him after all. "

Sometimes I help my dad clean himself, but he insist to just let himself take a bath himself. I can only help wiping his back and face. Other than that he always do it alone in the bathroom. Well... not that I don't understand the reason, but I guess I can't always helping him, can I?

" Dad? Are you in the bathroom? "
I knocked on the door lightly. We agree to not lock any door besides the front door in this house since dad got sick.

" Dad? I know you're there. Just tell me or hit things loudly if you ever need my hel—"

However...

Even after what I said this morning...

About his time getting near...

Doesn't mean I'm all prepare and okay... right?

Door creaked open silently with my knock as it shows me its inside that has been tainted with red liquids splattered everywhere. There, the body of a half-naked man lay on the floor with it's back facing me.

Gushes of blood running wild to my head, making me nauseous and gasping for air numerous times. Air feels like gold, as they hard to search and heavy to breath. My body is not shaken, rather, pulled in with stronger gravitation to his body. Kneeling. Weeping. Trying to process everything in one second before I'm screaming like a madman searching for help.

Help.

Feels like copper.

It's everywhere, but doesn't value that much on me. Because the thing that I truly wanted to help, has gone.

Despair... feels like soil to me, as I'm buried with it myself.