Mono No Aware 【木漏れ日】
Japanese (n) lit. 'the pathos of things'
❝The beauty that comes from sensitivity to amd awareness of the impermanence of things❞
This book will be a collection short stories and oneshots written showcasing Mono No Aware. They wi...
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"Following into the deep night The sound of you singing Brings the red morning A step and another step The dawn passes And when that moon falls asleep The blue shade that stayed with me disappears."
｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ - ☆｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆
Bahn Hajun woke up. It was still dark outside, but one could feel that the sun would rise soon.
He washed his face to feel fully awaken. Raising his head, he could see a pale reflection of a face. It looked as if all the energy, joy, any minuscule of those positive emotions were all sucked out.
What remained instead was just an emotionless cold visage. He glared at the reflection trying to find something, anything in those empty dimmed eyes. He didn't know what.
He had being living like a zombie for the past few months. All alone, in a lonely faraway home.
Reluctantly, he moved away from the basin. Off he went with heavy feet onto the terrace of the old house. A kite and a long nylon string in his hand.
His hands went into autopilot mode as his thoughts ran astray over the same thing again and again.
Cold but pleasant zephyrs blew past him, that was a good sign. The sky was clear, filled with dim stars which were disappearing. It was sad how for the fight between the moon and sun, the stars had to disappear when it wasn't even anything related to them. Who said the dead ones look upon others and guide them as stars? That person must have been drunk and delusional to think that shit.
He returned back to his mind, as he saw that everything was all done and the kite flew up in the fading night sky.
Some may think that he was weird, bonkers, crazy. Who would fly kite in the middle of night, right?!
But he didn't cared about it. The only person he cared about had left him all alone. He was like a small puppy left alone in a strange buckling city where people feed on each other's misfortune. He was afraid. Afraid of being alone, to move ahead, go on.
He had heard it millions of time. "The show must go on", "life goes on", "move on" "let go".
But as he repeatedly heard them, he grew numb to them. It wasn't that anyone was saying all this from their heart. And even if they were, well, he was in no condition to acknowledge it. He was afraid of the virtue, an idiot in the face of reality, a coward. Wasn't he? He knew that. He knew that all too well. It should have-
A strange melody, like one from a music box echoed around him. It was too familiar to not know. And it wasn't just any random one. He never expected to hear it ever again.
He looked around, but the sound was omnipresent. As he turned around, he realized that he had lost his kite. The string had fallen down next to his feet.
