Return to You

Len opened his eyes. He could feel the morning sun-rays brushing his face softly. He sat on the bed slowly. Yawning twice, he looked out the window—the dawn had just begun breaking. The sun wasn't up yet, but you could tell from the faint pinkish glow in the east horizon getting more and more evident that another morning's here.

He yawned again. It's been long since he'd woken up so early. His flat was on the sixteenth floor in the skyscraper with four hundred flats in total. His flat always got the first glimpse of the morning, which was why he didn't move out of this place, even if he had certain problems with heights.

He slowly pulled the sheet that was covering his lower body away and got out of the bed. He walked towards the window and looked around the scenery that surrounded him: The sun had reached its regular orange glow; some birds were announcing that a new day has come with their cheerful chirping—this little commotion didn't irritate Len, but from his expressionless face, you couldn't tell whether he was enjoying it either. He just stood still by the window and stared. Suddenly a gust of air blew by and made his bangs cover his eyes; Len didn't care to move an inch. He just kept standing there, enjoying the cool breeze against his skin with his eyes closed.

He loved it when the wind plays with hair, swaying them to and fro in front of his eyes. Before, whenever he woke early, he would keep on looking at a mass of red hair dancing to different directions with different tunes. It always amazed him how even with a little blow of air, those hairs could get so restless. He would see them making their way to her face, wrapping up her eyes, nose and lips. The scene had always captivated Len; he felt as if those eyes were talking to him even if they were closed. No matter how much time he spent on it, he kept staring—he still couldn't believe that the girl lying beside him, with her eyes closed, with every innocence and happiness in her face, was his wife.

The morning sun touched her face; a thin yellow beam kissed her eyes.

Kahoko woke up.

Today, Len was going to meet Kahoko after a very long time. Len tried to remember, how long has it been? Three years, probably, he said to himself. Three years! Len couldn't believe how he survived without seeing her for this long. He was away from Japan all this time. He can't remember what happened when he left his country. But now, he remembered a lot of things.

He could remember the cherry-trees, laden with white flowers—her favorite—when the two of them would take strolls in the park; played their violins there. Kahoko used to say, "Look, Len, the world is so white here." She clapped her hand so enthusiastically, looked around her, at the trees, at him.

Len just smiled.

Len remembered the time when they went to a farm house on a holiday. It was mid-winter and one morning, he woke up feeling something brushing on his face. Panicked, he opened his eyes, only to find his red-haired wife stroking his face softly with a feather in her hand. Watching his bewildered expression, she stood up jumping, giggling like a child.

Len tried so hard, to make an angry face at her, but failed.

All he could do was stare at his red-haired angel.

The forest was so deep, with only a handful of sun-beams scattered here and there making the thick, dark forest seem even darker.

Len sighed.

He and Kahoko were walking through the forest moor, holding each other's hand, enjoying the mutual warmth. The trees on both sides with their unnamed rainbow colored flowers were looking as if they were giving them standing ovation after a magnificent performance.

Performance, he sighed, yeah, saying that word was his mistake.

As soon as Kahoko heard him mutter that, she suddenly got stubborn to explore deep into the forest. She pleaded, pouted, saying all she wanted was to play a song in the meadow somewhere in the forest, of which she heard from the caretaker. Len was not at all interested in this plan—especially in this cold weather with a dense curtain of mist standing up on the distant hill.

He disapproved and protested, all the time knowing that this was of no use. There was no way he could win an argument with her. It became even more difficult after they got married.

So, as a result, here they were, walking into the dark forest for almost two hours in search of the meadow; there was still no sign of-

"Look, Len, we're almost there," Kahoko said, which brought him back to reality. He looked to the direction her finger was pointing at and saw a stretch of flat place, covered with green-grass and wild flowers caught his sight. Kahoko let go of his hand and moved forward, checking every detail of her surroundings, with an earnest yet eager look in her eyes. She touched the flowers petals gently with her fingers as if completely forgotten Len's presence. She was like a little girl with a chaste smile hanging on her lips—diamonds were nothing comparing to the sparks her eyes were gleaming. He didn't say a word for he didn't want to break the magic.

She suddenly seemed to realize his eyes were taking note of every single movement she made. She looked up and gave him an angelic smile.

"So, shall we?" She asked; he gave a small nod in reply.

He put their violin cases on the ground and pulled out the instruments. After both of them took their positions, Len closed his eyes and gave the nod to start.

There, they played, in the valley with misty walls surrounding them, with flowers around them, with their backs touching each others, feeling every tune of Ave Maria.

While playing, Len's mind admitted something: That hideous walk was sure something worth.

He wished this dream last forever.

The chauffeur was driving the Mercedes very carefully. Len was in the back seat, sitting comfortably against the leather seat cover. Sighing, he looked out of the window. He used to drive his own car whenever he went out with Kahoko.

Sometimes, after he returned from abroad from a long world tour, they used to go to a vacation. Kaho called it a 'surprise time out'. They just packed a few things and left without any contacts with others. No destination, no reservation. Len would just drive and drive until Kaho picked some place she liked and spent the night there. At night they would play violin together; the next day, they'd have another road trip.

Len didn't like high-speed, but when he had Kaho by his side in those days, he'd want his car as fast as a bullet shot. The wind tousled her hair, spread over her face like vines. Len wanted to touch those flying red locks, but Kaho wouldn't let him. She used to giggle and move her head, protesting, until Len smiled too.

Len loved those unplanned going outs with no one else around—just the two of them, and their music, their beloved Ave Maria.

He can clearly remember that day. He was driving along Harbor Road, with Kaho in the passenger seat beside him as usual. She was talking and laughing and Len was enjoying the tinkling sound of her rhythmic giggle. Len never thought the girl, whose smile never leaves her face even when she's asleep, would go away from him like this. He never knew his favorite Lamborghini would take his precious angel away from him forever.

Those few moments, felt like an eternity to him. Kaho's voice was still ringing in the air, when his car break failed and hit a tree by the roadside hard, very hard. Len hit his head on the dashboard. He could feel warm liquid spreading violently all over his face. He couldn't feel his left hand; he had a sharp pain crawling over his back like a serpent. But nothing mattered. The only thing he cared for was a body, lying in a pond of red liquid, which had the same color as her hair. The body was twitching, slowly and slowly getting more and more motionless, with every ticking second.

Len moved his right hand to reach out her, to touch her, to see her smile....

for the last time.

"We're here, sir." The deep voice of the chauffeur brought him back to earth. He looked up and saw the place where they are.

So, this is it.

This is where my Kaho is.

Len opened the door and stepped out. The driver was following him, but he motioned him to stay with the car. He brought out the small case from the back seat and started walking. He took his paces carefully.

'Don't stress the muscles. And give the playing a little break. The hand needs time, though." The words of the physiotherapist at the rehab center trailed off his brain as with every taken step. He felt an excitement rising in the pit of his stomach.

I'm going to meet my Kaho today, after so many days.

He saw a cherry-tree ahead, full of white flowers.

Of course, it's spring after all, he remembered.

He slowly approached the tree and stood under it.

He stood in front of her grave.

He looked around the whiteness all above him, above her. He remembered his days with her, the happiest days of his life. He couldn't realize that tears started trailing down his cheeks to his chin, to the ground and then on her grave.

A gentle breeze from the south blew, making the fallen twigs rattle, making countless petals fall. They made their way to the ground and mingled with his tears beneath the tree.

Len pulled away the violin from the maroon case. He closed his eyes.

I'm back, Kaho.

With Kaho beside him, covered with cherry blossoms, he pulled the bow.

A lonely violin cried out the sweet yet sad tune of Ave Maria, which echoed through the ground of the cemetery.

A special thanks to Fahad, without you this story wouldn't have been written.

And a huge thanks to Pathetic Rainbow, for beta-reading this story.

To the enormous gang of Len/Kaho pair fans.