Post by Honda Kiku on Dec 24, 2011 5:32:04 GMT -5
This is not a Christmas story of a little match stick girl working until angels came to her and brought her to heaven due to her goodness of heart. This is not a Christmas story of a Grinch that disliked cheer but later on decided that he did enjoy it once he learnt how special it all was. This is not a story that teaches lessons. This is not a story that people rely on to explain about Christmas.
A story of folded paper hearts and wishes that were not wished.
A story that may be real. A story that may not be real at all.
A story that you may relate to. A story that you may not relate to.
A story that simply wants to be told.
It is merely a story of Honda Kiku.
Christmas.
It was a day to spend with your loved ones, together, and to think of all the times they had spent with each other. Times that they cherish. Times that they are grateful for. During this time, young couples would stroll outside in the Japanese streets cuddling each other for warmth. They would mutter romantic lines to each other and smile and laugh happily. Even if a person may not have a significant other, they would spend it with friends and family. Loved ones. Trusted ones. They may look at the snow fall, the beautiful fragile white flakes dropping gracefully from the sky.. it would be a moment perfect for many people. A moment of warmth, happiness, peace and love.
Honda Kiku spent this wonderful beautiful holiday in his house.
Honda Kiku spent Christmas alone.
He had Pochi and Tama, his two most valued and precious pets with him, snuggling up to his sides and watching the snowfall with him from the balcony of his house. Pochi was his dog. Tama was his cat. Together they watched as the snow slowly covered the bare trees and the cold froze the pond into glistening ice. They watched until there was a layer of snow an inch thick coating everything in the garden. They watched it from the warmth of their balcony. They watched it together.
Still, Honda Kiku was lonely.
It had been some time since he had been with others during Christmas. He no longer allowed himself to go to Wang Yao's house on the invite of family. He had not allowed himself to go for a very long time. Everyone had stopped asking him except Mei, his little sister, but even then she did that out of formality. She still liked him after all. The rest.. He could not bear to see.
The face of Im Yong Soo, his little brother, hardening even for that split second hurt him. That unreal cheerful face always made him look away. Wang Yao, his older brother that took care of him.. but he betrayed, would always plaster a fake smile, seen through by the way his eyes would narrow the moment Honda Kiku entered the household. It would pierce through Honda Kiku's heart. He did not want to see Jia Long, his other little brother, look away from him and pretend to be interested with his fire crackers. The only one who was happy to see him was Mei..
Honda Kiku could not face the feelings of his family.
As for the Nation's Christmas party... Honda Kiku, also known as Japan, had also stopped going there after a while. He only went once every few years. Not every year. It was too loud. It too confusing. It too painful. Every year he went he would be seeing couples happy with each other, and he would look away in loneliness. Every year he went he would be asked if he had anybody yet and he would not be able to answer yes. Every year he went, someone would try to push him under the mistletoe. Every single year he went, everybody would become dead drunk. Every single year he would embarrass himself. Japan wanted some peace. Some peace and quiet and some tranquility.
Still, Honda Kiku could not help but feel lonely.
It was Christmas again. And Honda Kiku was alone.
He drank some tea. He ate the Christmas food. He watched the shows. He listened to the music. He fed his pets. He celebrated as if he was not alone. He did all that was supposed to be done, but that did not make him feel any less alone. The day would end quickly, with him doing all he could to push his thoughts away. After which he would need to start to prepare for the new years celebration. It would be very busy soon and his schedule would be very full. There would be no time to think of such negative thoughts as he would rush to do his chores. Once he had once everything to perfection, once all was complete, he would celebrate it.
He would go to the shrine. He would give a prayer. He would test his fortune. He would do the rituals. He would then later drink some tea. He would eat the New Year's food. He would watch the shows. He would listen to the music. He would feed his pets. He would celebrate as if he was not alone. But he would be alone. It would be just like Christmas.
On the night of Christmas, Honda Kiku would make a wish. Sometimes he may make few wishes. He would wish the best for his friends. He would wish the best for his people. He would wish the next year would be good. He wished all types of wishes.
But he never once wished that this pattern would change.
Honda Kiku was a person of routine. Every year would be the same. He did not wish for it to be different. He was satisfied. He was content. He did not wish for anything more, for that would be too greedy on his part. Instead, he would appreciate what he had. he would appreciate his house. His people. His friends. His pets.
Still, each time, right before he slept, he would fold a piece of origami, and hold it in his hand while he slept. A small origami heart. In the morning he would wake up with the paper all crinkled and crushed. He would try to smooth it out. He would promise that the next time he would not sleep with it cradled to his chest. He promised that nest time he would put it only near his pillow, and not in his hands.Then he would give up and throw the crushed piece of origami away in the corner of his room. Then he would forget about it, and it would be swept away when he would be preparing for the new years and he would never see it again.
Who knew where that little crushed piece of paper went? Perhaps it was incinerated. Perhaps a child saw it in the trash and picked it up and gave it a home. Perhaps it would have some adventure like the toy soldier that did not have a leg. Perhaps it would be sent to where all the other paper hearts were and join them in a dance of untold wishes. We do not know. But we can imagine.
We can imagine that those thousands of papers remember who folded them. That those thousands of papers would remember whose hands gripped them so tightly as they dreamed. That those thousands of papers would remember the heart they were pressed against so tightly. That those thousands of papers would come together and would be strong enough to remember a wish that had not been wished. Perhaps those thousands of papers would grant that wish.
Then maybe Honda Kiku would find a person like him.Then maybe Honda Kiku would fall in love. Then maybe Honda Kiku would spend his time of Christmas together. Then maybe, Honda Kiku would get a happily ever after.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps... Maybe, maybe,maybe
Still, until that wish comes true, there would always be a lonely heart sitting around a house watching the snow fall during Christmas. Perhaps even if that wish comes true there would always be lonely hearts sitting around their house watching the snow fall during Christmas. Would all these hearts some together to console each other? Would they grant a lonely unsaid wish?
We do not know. Maybe we never will.
This is your story.
Your ending is up to you.
A story of folded paper hearts and wishes that were not wished.
A story that may be real. A story that may not be real at all.
A story that you may relate to. A story that you may not relate to.
A story that simply wants to be told.
It is merely a story of Honda Kiku.
Christmas.
It was a day to spend with your loved ones, together, and to think of all the times they had spent with each other. Times that they cherish. Times that they are grateful for. During this time, young couples would stroll outside in the Japanese streets cuddling each other for warmth. They would mutter romantic lines to each other and smile and laugh happily. Even if a person may not have a significant other, they would spend it with friends and family. Loved ones. Trusted ones. They may look at the snow fall, the beautiful fragile white flakes dropping gracefully from the sky.. it would be a moment perfect for many people. A moment of warmth, happiness, peace and love.
Honda Kiku spent this wonderful beautiful holiday in his house.
Honda Kiku spent Christmas alone.
He had Pochi and Tama, his two most valued and precious pets with him, snuggling up to his sides and watching the snowfall with him from the balcony of his house. Pochi was his dog. Tama was his cat. Together they watched as the snow slowly covered the bare trees and the cold froze the pond into glistening ice. They watched until there was a layer of snow an inch thick coating everything in the garden. They watched it from the warmth of their balcony. They watched it together.
Still, Honda Kiku was lonely.
It had been some time since he had been with others during Christmas. He no longer allowed himself to go to Wang Yao's house on the invite of family. He had not allowed himself to go for a very long time. Everyone had stopped asking him except Mei, his little sister, but even then she did that out of formality. She still liked him after all. The rest.. He could not bear to see.
The face of Im Yong Soo, his little brother, hardening even for that split second hurt him. That unreal cheerful face always made him look away. Wang Yao, his older brother that took care of him.. but he betrayed, would always plaster a fake smile, seen through by the way his eyes would narrow the moment Honda Kiku entered the household. It would pierce through Honda Kiku's heart. He did not want to see Jia Long, his other little brother, look away from him and pretend to be interested with his fire crackers. The only one who was happy to see him was Mei..
Honda Kiku could not face the feelings of his family.
As for the Nation's Christmas party... Honda Kiku, also known as Japan, had also stopped going there after a while. He only went once every few years. Not every year. It was too loud. It too confusing. It too painful. Every year he went he would be seeing couples happy with each other, and he would look away in loneliness. Every year he went he would be asked if he had anybody yet and he would not be able to answer yes. Every year he went, someone would try to push him under the mistletoe. Every single year he went, everybody would become dead drunk. Every single year he would embarrass himself. Japan wanted some peace. Some peace and quiet and some tranquility.
Still, Honda Kiku could not help but feel lonely.
It was Christmas again. And Honda Kiku was alone.
He drank some tea. He ate the Christmas food. He watched the shows. He listened to the music. He fed his pets. He celebrated as if he was not alone. He did all that was supposed to be done, but that did not make him feel any less alone. The day would end quickly, with him doing all he could to push his thoughts away. After which he would need to start to prepare for the new years celebration. It would be very busy soon and his schedule would be very full. There would be no time to think of such negative thoughts as he would rush to do his chores. Once he had once everything to perfection, once all was complete, he would celebrate it.
He would go to the shrine. He would give a prayer. He would test his fortune. He would do the rituals. He would then later drink some tea. He would eat the New Year's food. He would watch the shows. He would listen to the music. He would feed his pets. He would celebrate as if he was not alone. But he would be alone. It would be just like Christmas.
On the night of Christmas, Honda Kiku would make a wish. Sometimes he may make few wishes. He would wish the best for his friends. He would wish the best for his people. He would wish the next year would be good. He wished all types of wishes.
But he never once wished that this pattern would change.
Honda Kiku was a person of routine. Every year would be the same. He did not wish for it to be different. He was satisfied. He was content. He did not wish for anything more, for that would be too greedy on his part. Instead, he would appreciate what he had. he would appreciate his house. His people. His friends. His pets.
Still, each time, right before he slept, he would fold a piece of origami, and hold it in his hand while he slept. A small origami heart. In the morning he would wake up with the paper all crinkled and crushed. He would try to smooth it out. He would promise that the next time he would not sleep with it cradled to his chest. He promised that nest time he would put it only near his pillow, and not in his hands.Then he would give up and throw the crushed piece of origami away in the corner of his room. Then he would forget about it, and it would be swept away when he would be preparing for the new years and he would never see it again.
Who knew where that little crushed piece of paper went? Perhaps it was incinerated. Perhaps a child saw it in the trash and picked it up and gave it a home. Perhaps it would have some adventure like the toy soldier that did not have a leg. Perhaps it would be sent to where all the other paper hearts were and join them in a dance of untold wishes. We do not know. But we can imagine.
We can imagine that those thousands of papers remember who folded them. That those thousands of papers would remember whose hands gripped them so tightly as they dreamed. That those thousands of papers would remember the heart they were pressed against so tightly. That those thousands of papers would come together and would be strong enough to remember a wish that had not been wished. Perhaps those thousands of papers would grant that wish.
Then maybe Honda Kiku would find a person like him.Then maybe Honda Kiku would fall in love. Then maybe Honda Kiku would spend his time of Christmas together. Then maybe, Honda Kiku would get a happily ever after.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps... Maybe, maybe,maybe
Still, until that wish comes true, there would always be a lonely heart sitting around a house watching the snow fall during Christmas. Perhaps even if that wish comes true there would always be lonely hearts sitting around their house watching the snow fall during Christmas. Would all these hearts some together to console each other? Would they grant a lonely unsaid wish?
We do not know. Maybe we never will.
This is your story.
Your ending is up to you.
