Vent Writing Where I Project My Own Experiences With Grief To Hakaze Kaoru Not Because I Am A Kinnie

vent writing where i project my own experiences with grief to hakaze kaoru not because i am a kinnie because it's 3am and my anxiety started acting up. most of these experiences about kaoru and his mom were made up pls don't treat as canon hdjfkdhf they only canon kaoru thing here is he's good with housework and cooking!!!!!! vent post under the cut

WORD COUNT: 1660

Sometimes Kaoru feels that he cannot remember his own mother's voice.

He worries about forgetting the smile she used to have on her face when he would tell her about the shells he found on the beach.

He worries that his mother's melodious laugh after his brother makes a joke would escape his mind at any moment.

He worries he would fail to remember combing her soft, silky blonde locks with his hands as he and his sister carelessly style their mother's hair into braids.

He worries when the feeling of having a mother to defend his actions while his father scolds him for acting too lax and foolish is starting to fade away.

Kaoru worries that, one day, he suddenly forgets.

He knows, however, there were moments after her passing that he will never forget:

Was it weird that he did not shed a tear the moment he knew his mother passed away?

Perhaps it was because, hours prior he found out about his mother's passing, he finally had the courage to engage in a conversation with his classmates. Perhaps the brief feeling of happiness that bursted within him throughout the school hours was too overwhelming that he couldn't bring himself to feel sad.

But wasn't that weird? He knew his mother longer than his classmates. Why didn't he cry? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Was it wrong that he didn't understand what “being dead” means?

He was a middle school student when his mother passed — not a kid anymore. Shouldn't he have understood what death means? Couldn't he see his mother's lifeless body kept inside the open casket during her wake? Didn't he realize the hushed murmurs from the guests, ranging from: “poor kids, their mother left them too soon,” to “what will happen to their family now?” while his sister sobs through the microphone, in a poor attempt to talk about their mother? Didn't he? Didn't he? Didn't he? Didn't he?

Kaoru worries that, one day, these too are something he suddenly forgets.

Loud wailing and sobbing echoed around the graveyard as his mother’s casket was being lowered down. Kaoru, however, has barely shed a tear.

But isn't that weird? There was no doubt that he was his mother's favorite. So why hasn't he cried since her death up until her burial?

As soil covered up his mother's casket, it was only then when Kaoru had felt something — yet that unfamiliar feeling, he knew, was not pain.

Kaoru knew that pain was supposed to make you wake up in the middle of the night to cry, it was supposed to make your heart tighten while you see something that reminds you of your late loved one, it was supposed to make you scream and destroy objects knowing that you can't do anything about what had happened in the past that made you feel so much in pain.

In that moment, however, Kaoru merely felt nothing. It was as if an empty void was suddenly attached within him. Memories of his mother didn't leave immediately, they were still a part of him even as her casket was completely covered in soil. But the moment his father uttered the words: “goodbye,” it was then when he understood what death truly meant. The emptiness within him started to feel heavy as he stared at the soil where his mother is kept underneath. He suddenly became aware of the loud cries from his brother as he clutched his chest, yelling for their mother in the empty sky, and his sister's uncontrollable sobbing as she softly called for their mother. Kaoru should have understood this earlier. He should have. He should have. He should have. He should have.

The Hakaze house is silent when they return. His sister hurries to the kitchen, still in tears, to cook food for dinner because who will make pancakes now that mother is gone? His brother pats his head, tells him to not worry about the household chores and focus on his school work first because who will clean his room now that mother is gone? His father heads to store mother’s collection of seashells and marine life books in a spare room because who will use them now that mother is gone?

His family are on the first step of moving on from their mother's death, but how can Kaoru move on along with them when it was only at this moment that everything started to sink in. “Goodbye,” continues to loop inside of his head like a broken music player as he stands still in the middle of their house. Goodbye, mother. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

A year after his mother's death, Kaoru cries — sobs alone in his room. Tears flow out from his eyes as he sobs in his pillow, what a shame, he had just changed the pillow cover the other night because of the same reason. Kaoru sobs alone in the house; his father is still out working, his brother has moved out from their house and lives somewhere in the city, and his sister is busy with her last week at university.

An hour later, Kaoru leaves his room to make pancakes because he noticed he hasn't had his first meal for the day, but the pancakes he made don't taste the same like how his mother used to make them.

Two hours later, Kaoru starts washing the leftover dishes from last night, then sweeps the floor of the common area because dust started accumulating on the floor again.

Five hours later, Kaoru spends the entire evening rereading the collection of his mother's old marine life books. He spends the next hour reciting to himself about the specific type of each seashell from his mother's dusty seashell collection because his mother wasn't by his side anymore to tell him about the lives of the seashells.

Kaoru worries that these, too, are something he suddenly forgets.

The first year he enters Yumenosaki Academy, he refuses to form any sort of close relationship between his classmates or any student in general. He thinks, perhaps, that it is for the best; he doesn't want the empty void within him to grow even bigger because of a sudden mishap with his hypothetical relationships.

The second year he studies in Yumenosaki Academy, he starts to question himself why he decided to even enroll in this school. He dislikes forming close relationships yet he placed himself in a situation wherein relationships are important for survival. Well, it wasn't like he was serious about becoming an idol, anyway. But, at least for this year, he talked to different kinds of people—though he could barely even call them acquaintances.

The third and last year he studies in Yumenosaki Academy, it becomes the first time he has allowed people to enter his life since his mother's death. It was the first time he cried in front of someone other than his sister — even multiple times. It was the first time he formed a bond that he is confident enough to call friendship. Kaoru still struggles with accepting people in his deeper side of life, yet the empty void within him still stays the same. However, a newer and warmer feeling starts growing inside of him.

The first year in Ensemble Square, Kaoru realizes he is starting to forget what kind of smile her mother always had on her face.

He realizes he is starting to forget in what situations his mother would laugh at.

He realizes he is starting to forget whether his mother preferred her hair in three-strand braids or French braids.

He realizes he is starting to forget what kind of stuff he used to do for his mother to wholeheartedly defend him against his father.

Kaoru comforts himself in the fact that, despite his memory slowly fading away, he will never forget the experience and memories he has with his mother.

He remembers him and his mother stepping barefoot on sand at the beach for the first time. He remembers when his mother first taught him how to ride a wave. He remembers the warm feeling in his chest knowing that his mother is home, ready to serve pancakes to him the moment he returns. He remembers the shame he felt when he realizes that his mother cleaned his messy room while he went out to play with his brother at the playground. He remembers listening to his mother talk about seashells and sharks in between coughs while lying down the hospital bed. He remembers staring at her cold, lifeless body inside the casket, seconds before they finally closed it.

Kaoru remembers it all.

And it's the little things like these constantly remind him that, although the empty void within him might never disappear, his mother took part in building the warmth inside of him. And that warmth will continue to exist within him through his memories of him and his mother.

His mother exists in the necklace she gave to him when he first entered school. She exists in the cold, sea breeze that brushes against his cheeks when he visits the seashore at night. She exists in his first solo song that he wrote with her in mind. She exists in the stories he tells about her to his friends, his juniors, and his fans. She exists in his father, his brother, his sisters — and within himself.

Sometimes Kaoru worries that he might forget everything one day.

But worrying about forgetting in itself is already a reminder that it would be difficult to forget something of such importance.

And even if he does end up forgetting, Kaoru is certain that nothing will replace the feelings, emotions, and memories that he experienced throughout the entire years of remembering his mother.

Oftentimes, Kaoru now relaxes knowing that he was able to experience a life with his mother and also become a part of his mother's life. And his mother will still continue to exist through his own memories.