Broken Memories (BokuAkaKuroKen)

20

"Honey! Let's go on a walk." The woman shouted up the stairs to her husband.

She turned to her son and leaned down just enough to be on eye level with him. She placed a fluffy tan and white poncho over his shoulders. "Don't want our precious baby getting cold, do we?" The boy blushed and shook his head. The lady smiled and placed a soft kiss on her son's forehead.

The man rushed down the stairs. The camera around his neck swayed side to side as he stepped down each step. One arm on the railing while the other was occupied with art supplies. At the final step, he handed the small sketchbook and paints out to his wife. "Here you are, my dear." He said with a goofy smile.

"You dork. Thank you" They shared a sweet, love-filled kiss. They each pulled away with a smile on their face. After one more peck on the lips, the man finally turned to his son.

"Are you ready?" The man asked, reaching his hand out for the child to grab. The boy looked into his dad's eyes and slightly nodded. He reached out and placed his tiny hand into his father's larger one.

The air smelled of fresh rain. The clouds were still dark and grey, but
The sun subtly peeked through them. The concrete steps leading to the front door were still dry, but everything beyond had turned dark from the rain.

The lady locked the door and held her hand out to the boy. "Would you mind holding mommy's hand? I don't want to get lost." Her voice was sweet and smooth. The boy nodded, excited to keep his mom out of harm's way. He held onto her soft hand.

They all made their way through a rather large park. There weren't many people, but the ones there consisted of families or couples. Each one living their own life. They walked down the path until they reached an area with a small garden and a fountain as well as benches littered around the area.

"Does this look like a good spot?" The man asked. His hand still holding on firmly to his sons.

"It looks great. Are you ready?" She responded.

The man chuckled. "Yep. Remember, thirty minutes to capture the best location. Kenma will you mind being the judge once we're done?" Kenma nodded excitedly. "Alright, then we're all set."

Once the thirty minutes were over, they both presented Kenma with their work. He couldn't choose between the two. He rewarded each parent with a kiss on their cheek. That was just one of many art walks that resulted in a tie. Kenma could never choose between the two. He loved them more than anything in the world.

...

In front of him is a painting of a familiar park. The one he saw that cloudy day. The one with a garden full of all sorts of flowers. The same park he held onto his parent's hands without a care in the world. Their warmth, the love they shared for each other. The love that they had shared with him. It was all displayed in front of him. A memory that he had long shoved deep into a box never intended to be opened again.

He couldn't stop the blur of his eyesight. The warmth crept onto his face. The tremble in his lip. All from one painting. Every little feeling of warmth that was once there was now forever missing.

He reached out to touch the painting. A part of him longing to be back at that place. To be back to listen to his mom's warm voice. To be able to cherish every single word she said. The ability to hold onto his dad's ever so slightly rough hand once more.

Nothing around him mattered. The tears risked falling from his eyes as he looked at the piece. It reminded him of a home he so longed to return to. If he could crawl through the painting to get back in that moment, he would, in a heartbeat.

Kenma couldn't handle standing there any longer, he felt suffocated by the image. He breathed in and let it go with a shaky exhale. He turned to Akaashi scared that the words wouldn't properly leave. He tapped his boyfriend's shoulder softly. "I need a minute." He whispered. Akaashi gave him a worried look but nodded.

Kenma left. He walked as fast as he could to the exit. The feelings he had tried for years to repress and push back were all resurfacing. All the love, pain, tears, happiness, every little thing that had made him feel things he no longer wanted to feel. The memories of kissed injuries, warm cups of hot chocolate on winter nights, every hug he has received, and all the bedtime stories he would gladly listen to before sleeping for the night. Each memory that he held so dear that now only brought tears.

Quickly he rushed through the front doors. The wind violently pushed the now open door back. He wanted to go home, to a place where he could shut out all of these feelings. Through his blurry vision, he made his way back to the car. He wanted to be back home.

Each snowflake felt like ice piercing his skin as he walked to the car. Snow was mixing with the tears that were now falling down his face. All at once, he felt as if he was on fire but also waist-deep in freezing water.

Walking turned to running until he met two familiar faces. The ones of people he loved. Once he met their eyes, the caring but concerned looks on their faces. His knees finally gave up on him. He fell to the ground, and the tears fell harder than before. Everything hurt. Every little movement that his body made. His head fell to the ground, and his arms wrapped themselves around his shaking body.

Harsh, broken sobs left his body even though he tried his best to keep quiet. The tears he had kept inside for years were forcibly falling onto the cold, snowy road beneath him. His thoughts are filling with memories of a warmth that he will never have again.