It's painful...
Yet at the same time, so peaceful.
The blue sky above and the scent of flowers all around me bury the metallic smell of blood.
As I stare at the sky, my vision begins to blur, but I don't want to close my eyes.
Where did it all go wrong?
Was it the moment I met you?
Or the moment I was born...?
A faint smile slowly forms on my lips as a trickle of tears slides down my face.
I still remember the very first time I came here. I was with my grandmother. I was four, completely mesmerized by the flowers surrounding me, thinking this place was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
Maybe it was even back then...
The moment I unknowingly chose to be the petals through the wind.
The wind brushes gently against my skin, carrying petals through the air like a quiet farewell. The world feels distant now, like a memory I'm slowly letting go of.
And strangely enough...
I'm not afraid.
A gust of wind steals the petals away, taking with it the life I once believed belonged to me.
"Asa..."
An elderly voice drifted across the open field, carried gently by the evening wind as it called out to the young child running through the sea of flowers.
"Asa, it's time we head back. The night is starting to set in."
The boy froze for a moment before turning, his small feet pressing softly against the grass as he ran toward the old woman waiting at the edge of the field. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, looking up with wide, pleading eyes.
"Gran-Gran, let's live here. It's so pretty..."
He wanted to stay here with his grandmother forever. To Asa, this place was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. Flowers stretched endlessly in every direction, swaying like waves beneath the golden sky. The air was sweet, thick with the scent of petals and fresh earth.
For a child like him, this place felt like paradise.
His grandmother slowly knelt in front of him, her weathered hands gently brushing dirt from his cheeks.
"Asa," she said softly, "some places are not meant for humans to live in. Some beautiful things are meant to be left alone... meant only for our eyes to admire, not our hands to claim."
Asa frowned, not fully understanding. The flowers danced around them as the wind passed through, petals loosening and drifting into the air.
"But why?" he asked quietly.
His grandmother glanced toward the endless field, her expression growing distant.
"Do you want it to be destroyed?"
"No..."
"Then let us not disturb the flowers any longer."
His grandmother's voice was gentle, yet firm.
Asa lowered his gaze to the petals beneath his feet, suddenly aware of how many he had crushed while running.
"I didn't mean to hurt them," he whispered.
"I know," she said, placing a warm hand on his head. "Most people never do."
The wind moved through the field again.
"Some things," she continued quietly, "are beautiful because they are untouched. Because they are allowed to live and die as they are meant to... not as we wish them to."
Asa slowly nodded, though he didn't fully understand.
Still, he stepped carefully this time, watching where he placed his feet as he moved beside her.
The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet. Shadows stretched across the ground, slowly swallowing the brightness of the flowers.
Asa tightened his grip on her sleeve.
"I still like it here," he murmured.
She smiled softly at the young child beside her.
Before pulling him into a warm embrace.
"I know you do, my sweet boy."
The wind blew again, stronger this time, carrying petals past them and deeper into the darkening field.
"Come,"
Her grandmother said, standing and holding out her hand.
"Let's go before the flowers start to bloom for the night."
Asa hesitated, looking back one last time at the endless ocean of color.
He took her hand, and together they walked away from the field of flowers.
He still couldn't fully understand why they couldn't live there. Why something so beautiful had to remain out of reach.
But even so, he was beginning to learn.
Some things were never meant to be taken.
Some beauty was meant only to be seen... and then left behind.
As they walked farther away, the scent of flowers slowly faded, replaced by the cool breath of the coming night. Asa glanced back one last time, the field now glowing faintly beneath the dying light of the sun.
For a moment, it almost looked like the flowers were watching him leave.
And though he did not know why,
His small fingers tightened around his grandmother's hand. And darkness slowly crept in.
Asa jolted awake, grasping for air.
The dim glow of an oil lamp flickered weakly from the wooden table across the small room, its flame trembling with every draft that slipped through the cracks of the old house. The faint smell of burning oil mixed with the scent of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling beams.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as he sit up.
For a moment, he did not move.
As tears slowly trickle down his face.
At first, just one.
Then another.
Until it became a full, shuddering sob.
The dream still clung to him
The field, the flowers, the warmth of wrinkled hands wrapped around his own.
His fingers slowly curled up, seemingly trying to grasp something that's not there anymore.
"Gran..." he whispered, his voice hoarse and fragile in the quiet of the night.
The memory came rushing back like a flood breaking through a fragile dam.
He still remember the scent of bitter medicinal herbs boiling over fire. The way his grandmother's breathing had grown shallow. The way her skin had turned cold in his hand
His lips trembled violently as he pressed his sleeve against his eyes, trying to stop the tears, trying to stop the memories.
But they would not stop.
Her soft humming while she worked.
Her warm hand guiding his as they walked through the flower field.
Her voice, gentle and patient, calling his name.
A broken sob slipped from his chest before he could swallow it down.
He folded in on himself, drawing his knees close, covering his eyes as if he could hold himself together by force alone. His shoulders trembled as grief slowly, mercilessly consumed him.
Minutes,
Hours, maybe it's already been days.
He doesn't know, still crying as if the tears he's shedding would bring back the one who's already gone.
Knock, knock, knock.
Who is it?
Just go away... just leave... please
But the knocking on the door never stopped. As time went on, the simple knocks became loud bangs, as if someone wanted to force it open, no, more like break it open.
"ASA! OPEN THIS DOOR! Just... just how long are you going to stay in there?"
"Please, I'm begging you, as your friend... please open it."
He doesn't know who it is. He doesn't care.
But why?
Why is he calling for me?
Why is he crying?
Asa's mind is so jumbled that he can't even understand what's happening. He's so full of grief that he can't even remember the voice that's desperately calling for him.
The banging continued, each hit rattling the door against its frame. Dust fell everywhere drifting slowly through the dim air.
His ears rang, this nonstop banging.
He just wants everything to disappear.
Shutting his eyes tightly, while using his hands to cover his ears.
He doesn't want to hear it. He don't want to see whoever it is.
Why won't everything just disappear, why won't they just go away. Why can't i just die....
I want to die, why won't this pathetic life just die.
A useless life, why won't it disappear.
His thoughts spiraled, tangled with grief and exhaustion, heavy and suffocating.
Why does this hurt so much...?
Why does it feel like I can't breathe in this life anymore...?
His head throbbed violently. His throat burned raw from crying, yet the tears would not stop.
They kept falling, endlessly falling, soaking into his sleeves, his clothes, the wooden floor beneath him.
His body trembled from exhaustion, but sleep would not come.
Peace would not come.
Silence would not come.
The pounding on the door echoed through the room, through his skull, through his chest.
Each hit dragging him back toward a world he no longer felt strong enough to face.
He curled tighter into himself, nails digging into his sleeves, as if holding himself together was the only thing keeping him from shattering completely.
Outside, the banging continued.
Inside, he felt like he was already breaking apart.
And somewhere, buried beneath the grief and noise and pain...
The room felt so large.
Colder.
Emptier.
Somewhere deep inside him, he knew he should answer. He knew someone was there, someone who refused to leave him alone in this darkness.
But his body would not move.
Because if he opened that door...
If he stepped back into the world outside...
Then it would mean she was truly gone.
Another loud bang shook the door.
"ASA! PLEASE!"
The voice broke completely this time.
And for the first time since the knocking began, Asa's fingers twitched his hand trembled hesitating.
As if something inside him was being pulled back toward the living, no matter how desperately he wanted to stay buried in the past.
Then he remembered who was on the other side of the door.
The one person who had always been there for him.
Wayne.
The one person who had stayed by his side since they were little. He was there when his own mother hurt him. He was there when his father left and never came back.
And when his grandmother died...
Wayne was still there.
Always there.
Standing beside him when the world felt too heavy.
Speaking for him when he couldn't find the words.
Pulling him back when he drifted too far into himself.
Memories surfaced slowly through the fog in his mind of a two small boys running through dusty roads, sharing stolen fruits, laughing over things no one else would understand.
Wayne sitting beside him in silence during the funeral.
Wayne handing him food he never asked for but always needed.
Wayne knocking on his door every morning, as if making sure Asa was still part of this world.
And now...
He was still there.
Still knocking.
Still calling his name.
Still refusing to leave him behind.
Asa's chest tightened painfully.
Because even in his darkest moment, even when he wanted to disappear into grief and never come back.
Someone was still reaching for him.
So roes he take the hand that's desperately reaching for him...
Or does he fall completely into endless suffering?
"Gran... why must you leave me? Why must you go?"
His voice cracked.
"Why didn't you just take me with you...? You said we would always be together. You said you would always be here."
His voice trembled violently.
"So where... where are you now...?"
Asa asked yet silence is the only thing that answered him.
The banging on the door continued, yet it felt so distant and distorted through the ringing in his ears.
Asa slowly pushed himself up.
His legs trembled beneath him, weak from days without proper food, without rest, without anything but grief. He steadied himself against the wooden wall, breathing unevenly, before forcing one step forward.
Then another.
And another.
The room swayed around him as he made his way toward the small wooden drawer near his bed.
Each step felt heavy.
Like walking toward the edge of a cliff.
The banging outside grew louder.
"ASA! PLEASE!"
His shaking hand reached for the drawer.
He pulled it open.
Inside, beneath folded cloth and small personal belongings, rested a simple knife, worned out and ordinary, something used for daily tasks.
His fingers hovered over it.
For a moment, they did not move.
His mind screamed.
His chest ached.
His entire body felt hollow and unbearably heavy all at once.
Asa slowly lifted the knife, pressing the cold iron onto his neck. Then slowly he began to cut at his own neck.
It hurts at first, he could vividly feel the sharp edge of the knife slowly digging into him.
Outside, the door frame cracked under another violent hit.
"ASA!"
The knife trembled in his hand.
Tears blurred his vision completely now, dripping from his chin onto the wooden floor.
Maybe if I disappear...
Maybe then it won't hurt anymore...
Asa slowly lifted the knife, pressing the cold iron against his neck.
The metal felt painfully cold against his warm skin, sending a shiver down his spine. His hand trembled, yet he did not pull away.
At first, there was only a sharp sting, a burning sensation that made his breath hitch. He could vividly feel the edge of the blade against his skin, close enough to remind him how fragile human body can be.
Warmth began to spread across his collar, slowly seeping through the fabric of his robes.
Dark stains bloomed across the cloth, heavy and spreading.
His vision began to blur, and dizziness washed over him in slow, suffocating waves. The strong metallic scent filled his nose, thick and nauseating, making his stomach churn.
The room tilted slightly.
The oil lamp's flame split into two... then three.
Yet he didn't move away.
His thoughts felt distant now, slow and scattered, like petals drifting too far from the stem.
Maybe... this is fine...
Maybe this is quiet...
His knees weakened beneath him.
The knife slipped slightly in his trembling grip as his breathing turned shallow and uneven. The world around him dimmed at the edges, shadows creeping closer, wrapping around his vision like closing curtains.
The door burst open.
Wood splintered inward as Wayne stumbled through, breath ragged, eyes wide with pure, unfiltered terror.
"Asa-!"
He froze.
Time seemed to stop.
Wayne's gaze locked onto the knife in Asa's shaking hand... then to the spreading red staining his robes, slowly coloring him deeper and deeper.
"No..." Wayne whispered, his voice breaking. "No, no, no... Asa... please..."
A scream clawed at Wayne's throat, begging to be released, but he forced it down. Panic would not help. He needed to stop the crimson flow from his dear friend.
Wayne rushed forward, grabbing Asa's shoulders.
The knife clattered loudly onto the wooden floor between them.
"Asa, please... let it not be too late," Wayne choked out, pulling him into a desperate, shaking embrace.
His hands moved frantically, pressing cloth against Asa's neck, trying to slow the bleeding. But no matter what he did, the warmth kept soaking through, staining his hands, his sleeves, everything.
"This... this won't do..." he gasped, his breathing uneven, mind racing.
His hands trembled violently as he held the cloth tighter, as if sheer will alone could keep Asa here.
"I... I need help... I need help!"
Wayne's voice cracked as he shouted toward the open doorway, fear ripping through every word.
"HELP! SOMEONE- PLEASE! HELP!"
He tightened his hold around Asa, pressing his forehead against his friend's, tears finally spilling over.
"Stay with me," he whispered desperately.
"Please, Asa... stay with me... don't close your eyes please..."
Outside, hurried footsteps began to echo toward the broken door.
While inside, Wayne held on as if letting go meant losing the person that's been with him all his life.
__
An older man from the neighboring house had noticed Wayne standing in front of the young boy Asa's door.
He had been standing beneath the eaves across the narrow path, watching the younger boy pound relentlessly against Asa's door.
"Boy!" the old man called out, his voice rough with age. "Stop that! Let the poor child mourn in peace!"
But Wayne did not listen and just pounded on the door.
"Hah! Children these days never listen. That poor child just lost his grandmother, and he can't even mourn in peace."
The old man shook his head with a tired sigh, watching the boy's relentless pounding against the door.
"Grief is not something you rush," he muttered under his breath. "Let the boy have his silence... at least for a little while."
Wayne didn't answer.
Didn't even turn.
He kept pounding, his fists slamming against the wood again and again, trying to break the wooden door.
The old man frowned and began walking toward him, muttering under his breath. "You'll break the door down at this rate..."
He reached out, about to grab Wayne's shoulder and pull him back....
But Wayne was faster.
With one final desperate strike, the door gave way, splintering inward with a violent crack.
The old man flinched at the sound.
For a brief moment, there was silence.
Then...
"HELP! SOMEONE- PLEASE! HELP!"
Wayne's voice tore through the air, raw and terrified.
The old man's heart dropped.
He rushed forward, stopping just short of the broken doorway. His eyes widened as he took in the sight inside, dark stains spreading across the floorboards, and Wayne on his knees, clutching Asa tightly.
"Stay with me," he whispered desperately.
"Please, Asa... stay with me... don't close your eyes please..."
The old man breath almost stopped. Looking at the bloodied scene.
There was no hesitation after that.
He turned and run, he run faster than his old legs had moved in years. Down the narrow dirt path toward the center of the village.
"HEALER!" he shouted as he ran. "SOMEONE FETCH THE HEALER!"
His voice echoed through the quiet evening, startling villagers from their homes as urgency spread like wildfire.
_
"Hm… where is this?"
With fluttering eyes, Asa woke up, rubbing at them groggily. Memories of what had happened the night before rushed back to him all at once.
"…I guess I didn't succeed after all."
He had wanted to follow his grandmother. To stay with her.
But the world had refused to grant him even that.
Frowning, Asa slowly looked around. He had woken up in an unfamiliar place — no, more than that. It was somewhere he never expected to be.
Yet that wasn't what shocked him the most.
It was the small hand attached to his arm.
No… it wasn't just small.
It was a child's hand.
His own.
"…Is this a dream?"
His mind fell into turmoil. Shock twisted his thoughts as he stared at himself, at the world around him, as if it were mocking him… playing a cruel joke.
Before he could break down again, a voice called out from behind him.
"Asa…"
His breath caught.
He knew that voice. He knew it better than any other.
It was the voice that told him stories late into the night.
The voice that spoke softly when the world was too cruel.
The voice that guided him, no matter how lost he felt.
Asa turned around so quickly he nearly stumbled, his heart pounding as he searched for her.
Was he mistaken?
Was this truly a dream?
Or had he finally lost his mind?
But there she was.
His grandmother stood before him, smiling gently as she called his name.
"Asa, are you lost in your thoughts again?"
"Huh…? Th-that's— Gran… how are you…?"
"Asa, come here."
Without thinking, Asa stepped closer. When he reached her, her hand cupped his cheek. He froze.
He could feel it.
The familiar warmth.
The roughness of her calloused palm.
"This child," she said fondly, pinching his cheek, "always wandering off in his thoughts."
"Ow…"
Asa looked up at her, holding his reddening cheek, disbelief and relief tangled in his chest.
"Asa, do you remember what I told you before?"
"…You told me many things, Gran-Gran."
"That's true. Too many, it seems. They go in one ear and right out the other."
"That's not true!" Asa protested, breaking into a small, cheeky smile. "I always listen to you, Gran-Gran."
For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt happy.
He didn't care if this was a dream.
He didn't care if this was a cruel illusion.
She was here.
And that was enough.
"Aish… this child," she scolded lightly. "You really are something."
"Come," she said, turning away. "Let's sit by that tree."
She walked toward an old, sturdy tree and settled beneath it.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
Asa hurried after her and sat down at her side, memories surfacing of countless times he had listened to her stories just like this.
"I'll say this only once," she said gently. "So remember it well, Asa."
"Yes, Gran-Gran. I'll remember."
"Asa, what do you think of those flowers?"
"Huh...? Um... they're beautiful?"
She laughed softly.
"Such a simple answer. But yes, they are."
His heart warmed at the sound of her laughter alone.
Then her tone grew serious.
"Asa, every flower here is beautiful. But..."
She looked at him closely.
"Don't all beautiful things come to an end? Even these flowers will wither as time passes. No matter how carefully you preserve them, they cannot escape their fate."
Asa listened, though he didn't fully understand... or perhaps he didn't want to.
"That is how the world is," she continued.
"Everything and everyone... no matter how tightly you cling, no matter how much you beg the heavens... when it is time, it cannot be stopped."
"...."
"But there is one thing that lasts forever."
She took his hand and placed it over his chest.
"This."
"...My heart?"
"That's right," she said softly. "Your heart - the love inside it. The love that keeps me here. The love you give to others."
"...."
"As long as I live in your heart, I will never disappear," she said. "Isn't that right?"
Tears welled up in Asa's eyes.
"Gran..."
"So tell me," she asked gently, "do you love me?"
"Yes... of course I do, Gran-Gran."
"Then why do you act as if I've vanished?" she asked quietly. "Why did you hurt yourself like that?"
Her hand brushed his neck, and only then did Asa notice the bandage wrapped there.
"As long as I am in your heart," she said, "I will never leave you."
"I... I just didn't know how to live without you,"
Asa sobbed.
Tears spilled freely now, his vision blurring as his childlike form slowly shifted back into the body he knew.
"Asa," she said, pulling him into a tight embrace, "there is still so much for you to live for. Flowers wither... but don't they bloom again?"
She held him close, patting his trembling back.
"Don't hurt yourself anymore," she whispered. "I will always be watching you."
Asa nodded weakly.
The pain of losing her would never truly fade...he knew that now.
But so would her love never fade.
And as the world around him slowly dissolved into light, one thought remained clear in his heart.
As long as he lived...
She would never truly be gone.