Flowers on the sidewalk

As a man old enough that calling him by his name alone feels disrespectful, Rei goes to bed at 8 p.m. every night and wakes up at 4 a.m. every morning without fail.

This night is no different, his body succumbing to sleep once it is dark. However, not even three hours since he closed his eyes, he is opening them again because even an old man like him can't resist when nature calls.

He finishes his business in the bathroom, about to crawl back into his bed, when his cell phone dings with a notification. The sound isn't loud, not for old people's standards, but it blares like a siren in the quiet night.

Unlocking the phone with a swipe of his forefinger, it takes him a minute or five to read the message that was sent.

Apparently, that child—Kaiden hasn't responded to Lucy's messages. Since Lucy's girlfriend already promised to check his place, Rei dons a robe and decides to check inside the Lin Manor. Kaiden moved out months ago, there's no reason for him to be here, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

Rei's house is located behind the Lin Manor, a quaint rustic cabin that looks straight out of a fairytale book, so it doesn't take him long to enter the main house through the back entrance.

The lights are off, no signs of Damon or his lover, and no signs of Kaiden either. However, he can't leave yet. He remembers that time when he sat waiting for someone instead of looking for the child himself. In the end, they had to send him to the hospital in a rush. When he thinks of that day, Rei blames himself for hesitating because maybe, /just maybe/ if he acted earlier, then the child would've been in less pain.

Learning from his regrets, Rei moves around while turning on the lights. The kitchen is lit up first, the closest room to the entrance, followed by the dining room. When he turns on the light for the living room, it's there that he sees whom he's looking for.

Kaiden is slumped on the sofa, head lolling to one side, dried tear marks on his face. His eyes are swollen too, and that's all it takes for Rei's old heart to ache.

--

Kaiden jolts awake, grabbing at whatever is closest to him, his fight or flight response activating at the feeling of someone staring at him for too long. It's a habit he hasn't unlearned yet, his heart racing the moment he feels like he's not alone in a supposedly empty room. Too many instances have taught him that if he does not wake up soon, bad things will happen to him.

Thankfully, that doesn't seem to be the case, for when his eyes adjust to the light, he sees a familiar face looking down on him—sadness unhidden in the wrinkled face.

"Grandpa Rei?" Kaiden asks tentatively, pushing on the sofa to sit upright.

Instead of answering, the old man slowly says, "Go upstairs and sleep, child. No one has been using your room since you left."

"No, it's okay," and then, remembering why he's even here in the first place, he adds, "I'm waiting for Damon."

Grandpa Rei's expression turns for the worse, pity dripping from his voice as he says, "I don't think he's coming."

Kaiden knows that too, figured it out hours before he fell asleep, yet he's sitting still like a fool. He looks down at his hands, ashamed to speak. The two remain quiet, one old and one young, sharing different yet similar thoughts.

When the silence becomes unbearable, it is Kaiden who speaks first. "I-I should go."

He reaches for his phone to check the time, forgetting that the device has been off since earlier.

Ah, how can he call a ride like this?

It's stupid, he's stupid. Why did he wait until this late?

Grandpa Rei watches him fumble with the device, failing to turn it on despite numerous attempts, before he repeats his words from earlier. "Sleep upstairs, Kaiden," he suggests again, "it's late and it's not safe to be out at this hour. This house has more than enough rooms to shelter you for a night."

Biting his bottom lip out of frustration, Kaiden is still pressing the on and off button by the side of his phone. He considers whether to stay the night or not. It's not the best idea, but it's also not /bad/. He'll certainly be safer if he leaves in the morning, but the idea of going back to the room he used to sleep in feels wrong somehow. It feels like he's sinning to stay at a house that doesn't welcome him anymore, so why didn't he leave earlier?

"What's wrong, child?" Grandpa Rei suddenly asks when he notices how Kaiden's hands are trembling.

Sometimes, after long periods of suffering, it only takes the smallest inconvenience to break someone: a broken heel, a late train, or in this case, a dead battery. Everything has already gone wrong, Kaiden asks himself, so why this too? What has he done so wrong for him to be in this situation?

Tears—traitorous tears—have made their appearance again, streaking down his face without permission. He can't do this anymore. It's not fine. He's /not/ fine.

The old man is startled, unsure of how to comfort a crying Omega. He sits down next to Kaiden and gently pats the young man's hand whose fist is clenched on top of his knee. They stay like that for a while, Grandpa Rei shushing Kaiden's crying with a litany of, "It's okay, don't cry."

Kaiden, in turn, weeps until his throat runs dry. Even then, he tries to remain quiet, tries to stifle the sobs, doing his best to hold back the dam from overflowing. When there's nothing left, not even sadness or frustration, he finally asks, "Grandpa Rei, what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you." The answer is confident, reassuring.

But Kaiden doesn't believe that. How can there be /nothing/ wrong with him when he's like this—when he can feel the embers of a burning connection singe through his lungs?

If he doesn't feel utterly hopeless, powerless … "Then why does it hurt so much?" He finally asks, voicing the complaints he kept hidden in his heart.

He's not expecting an answer, he just wants someone to know that he's in pain too.

The old man sighs, deep and heavy. His eyes become dull, visiting the distant past. After he has found what he's looking for, he begins by saying, "Love is not the same for everyone."

Although he is staring into the same empty air as the old man, Kaiden is listening.

"Like flowers," the old man continues, "there are some that require meticulous care and there are some that thrive even if left alone on the sidewalk."

"What does that mean?" He pictures the resilient little things growing through a crack on the road—how pretty they are with their yellow and orange petals, giving life to a bland scenery. Is that what love is? Is that what /his/ love is? Seeding from the minutest kindness and blossoming from the slightest affection, somehow he has laid his heart to find beauty in a place where no one looks.

"It means, my child, that even if you fail, you have not lost. Do not blame yourself if nothing blooms." The old man smiles at him, an elder encouraging the youngster that this is not the end. "Instead, strive to learn about yourself in the process."

Learn about himself in the process? How does he even begin doing that?

"You have grown without your knowledge, and this pain is the soil you will take root upon." It is then that Grandpa Rei looks at him, not with pity or sorrow, but with the gaze of a man with a story to tell.

Someday—maybe someday—Grandpa Rei will tell him about the storms and typhoons ... and the wreck that love brings but tonight, Kaiden lets himself be lost in the knowledge that there is a place beyond the land of misery. When the rain turns into a drizzle, the flood won't last long. It'll be a better day tomorrow.