Violet Roses | Saiki K

Chapter 12

Akemi and Ren spent the next hour or so working on the garden. By the time they had finished, almost all of the flowers had been planted. Akemi had been shocked by her ability to not break down crying at any point while working on the garden. Though, she figured it was because she was holding all of it back.

After they had finished with the garden, Ren left and Akemi went inside. Before she had a chance to hide in her room, her dad cornered her.

"What's the deal with this Ren kid? Is he really just a friend?" Taiyo questioned.

Akemi glared at him, "Yes, he's just a friend. Now moved."

She just pushed past him and locked herself in her room. The second she was alone, she let herself break. Sudden feelings of sadness and fear overtook her as she fell to her floor and sat against her door, tears pouring out of her eyes.

I don't get it. I thought this would help. Why am I crying? Is it because I didn't let myself cry out there? Or can I just not do this?

An ugly sob erupted from Akemi's throat as she let out bottled-up emotions. She had been trying so hard to hold everything in while Ren was there, it was just now dawning on her just how much she had been pushing down her emotions even before working on the garden. But now, she had no reason to force herself not to feel things. So she just let it all out.

Her mother had always told her it was bad to bottle up emotions. They would always come back with ten times the strength if she didn't let herself show how she felt every now and then. With her mom around, it had been easy to let out any emotions of sadness or anger. She had felt safe around her mom. But now, she was gone.

And there was something wrong with Akemi going to her father.

No matter how many times he told her that she could talk to her, Akemi knew that it wasn't a good idea. Taiyo was going through the same pain she was and Akemi knew he felt responsible for how she felt. Akemi knew that he would be able to help her because of that. But he would do it at the cost of his mental health. And in the end, that would end worse than if Akemi just found a way to deal with her emotions on her own.

Akemi let out a shaky breath and thought back to the garden. Akemi had almost made it through without breaking. But planting those roses had done it for her.

Akemi had always thought it was strange that she had a hard time being around flowers, especially roses, without thinking of her mom. Thought, it had made sense. Plants had been Hanaka's entire life and she shared that with Akemi. It was hard to think of her mother or flowers on their own and not think of the other.

Leaning her head back, Akemi took a few deep breaths before opening her eyes. Immediately, her gaze drifted to an open box of photos that was on the floor. They had been left there from two nights ago when she had a nightmare and stayed up all night. On the top was a picture of her mom smiling brightly with a vase full of roses in her hands while she sat in a hospital bed.

Akemi reached for the picture and stared at it. It had been taken on her mother's birthday.

* * *

"Aw, thank you. This is all wonderful." Hanaka said, smiling up at her family. "I'm so glad all of you came."

"Why wouldn't we come?" Akemi's aunt questioned a smile that could hardly hide how she hated seeing her sister in a hospital bed on her face.

"Actually, I do think we need to leave," Akemi's uncle said with a frown. "We had a really short window to make this happen..."

"Of course. Go. I don't wanna keep you from whatever you need to do." Hanaka told them, "I'm glad you came."

"I'd feel terrible if we hadn't," Akemi's aunt said quietly.

"I know," Hanaka mumbled before she looked at her husband, "Actually, why don't you see them out. I have something I want to tell Akemi."

Taiyo gave Hanaka an unsure look before letting out a sigh, "Alright."

When the door had closed and it was just Akemi and her mother in the room, Akemi shifted a bit. She had loved being around her mother, but seeing her in a hospital made her look so weak and Akemi hated that.

"What is it?" Akemi questioned, talking a few steps forward to sit in the chair next to the bed.

"I want to tell you the truth," Hanaka started. Akemi tensed, having a feeling she knew what was coming. "A truth no one else can face. I am not going to get better. I can tell. And I hate it just as much as you. But there's nothing I can do but accept it."

Akemi took in a deep breath at her mother's words and nodded, letting her continue.

"I probably have about another week or so. Maybe more. I don't know" Hanaka said honestly. "But I want you to promise me something. And that promise will be the best birthday gift you can give me."

"What?"

"Promise me that you'll take my garden as your own. That my love of plants will continue to live through you."

Akemi's eyes widened and she processed what her mother had asked her to do. She was telling her to take care of her garden. The one thing Hanaka cherished more than almost everything else.

Tears filled Akemi's eyes as she took in all of her mother's words. This would be one of her last requests. One of the last things she would ask Akemi to do.

"I promise."

* * *

Akemi had thought that she hadn't been able to keep that promise. That she had promised her mother that she would keep taking care of her garden. But starting this new garden made her realize something.

She had promised to keep Hanaka's love for flowers alive.

While Hanaka had also told her to take care of her garden, Akemi was finally realizing that her mother probably wanted Akemi to focus more on the second part of the promise. Hanaka just wanted her memory to stay alive.

Akemi took a deep breath, feeling a new wave of tears coming.

She still wished she had fought more for her mother's garden. She should've at least tried to stay at her old home. If she had just told her dad about the promise she had made, maybe she would still be at her old home, sitting in her mother's garden right now.

But she hadn't told her father about the promise and they moved. The promise had felt too much like a secret. Like something she couldn't tell anyone. Akemi wished she hadn't been selfish and just told her dad they couldn't move because of it. She wished she hadn't felt so helpless when she could've actually done something to protect the thing she loved.

Akemi stood up, whipping her tears with her hand. She put the photo she had forgotten she was holding back in its box before putting the box in her nightstand drawer. Then she sat down at her desk and started to work on any homework she had.