Post by neonquincy1217 on Jul 3, 2016 16:53:37 GMT
A/N: Yay! I have entry!
...
Except I'm not sure if adding an original character doesn't disqualify me or something. I've checked, but I can't find a rule anywhere restricting an OC, so... Heiji!~
This turned out to be fun to write, since I get to incorporate a headcanon character. I liked how the story flowed too. It's just... is this entry even legal? *paranoids*
Also, I have decided to make this story a part of a compilation, featuring the Gosho Boys as responsible parents.
Enjoy~
Title: Shooting Star
Word Count: 3936
Characters: H. Heiji, T. Kazuha, OC, H. Saguru (mentioned)
Rating: K
Genres: Family/Hurt/Comfort
FFN link: Here
I. Hattori Heiji: Shooting Star
Raising a child is hard enough, but raising a child alone is a much harder challenge, especially if said child loves sneaking out at night to stare blankly at the sky.
It’s half-past eleven, and Hattori Heiji’s nowhere near finished with his search. For five hours and counting, in the middle of what could be the coldest night of the summer, in only his shirt, jeans, and a pair of sneakers, Heiji searched every single high ground in Osaka for what could be the seventh time that month.
Looking for missing people is part of being a detective. He’s been doing this for more than twenty years and to say that he’s used to late-night searches is an understatement. Needless to say, that’s not what’s keeping the Osakan detective on edge. What’s keeping him antsy is what or who it is he’s looking for.
“That darn brat!” he muttered under his breath as he turned another corner. Heiji ran his fingers through his hair in an agitated fashion. He’s been up and around Tsutenkaku Tower thrice (thanks to Otaki-han, he can still enter the premises way past viewing hours), traveling by foot from this point to the next, skimming throngs of people for a single head in the crowd wearing his favorite baseball cap.
Heiji heaved an exhausted breath, wiping a trail of sweat with the back of his hand. He took out his phone to check if there’s any message from anyone about that person’s whereabouts. There was none, so he opted to check the time instead. It’s almost twelve. Just what kind of place would a four-year-old go to this late?
The detective ended up staring at his phone much longer than he intended, his eyes traveled to the date. And then it hit him…
“The Perseids!” he shouted, and broke a run to the direction of his parents’ house.
Near their dwelling is a hill, elevated at around thirty feet from the ground, with a lone tree standing high and tall atop of it. He and Kazuha used to play there with the other neighborhood kids, he recalled, and that was the perfect viewing spot to watch the night sky. It’s a good thing no one ever dared trample around the place, as some believed the evergreen housed the soul of a restless spirit—a common urban legend to the Osakan detective’s ears.
True enough, when Heiji reached the top, by the lone evergreen was a silhouetted figure of a child. Heiji approached with mastered stealth, careful not to make any sudden noise that may frighten his target. As he drew nearer, a smile of relief formed on his lips. There was his Sax’s cap, on the same child’s head, its visor pointed behind her, as if the ponytailed four-year-old was imitating the way he always wore it.
“Kirakira…” Heiji hollered when he got close enough. In response, the child turned her head to his direction, flung herself around him and answered, “Hikaru!”
That was a greeting specially made for the two of them, akin to the nursery rhyme she loves so much. In response, the father of one hugged her back tightly, caressing the strands of hair his fingers can reach.
“Oh, Hikaru, honey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You know you can’t see well in the dark. Why do you keep running off alone at night?”
The private detective detached himself to look at the younger one. In the darkness of the night, with only the celestial bodies as their source of light, cyan eyes, not unlike his, glowed like precious gemstones. The little girl, who was curled up to her knees up until her father found her, gave a carefree grin. And for a moment, everything was perfect.
The four-year-old reached for the cap on her head, took it off and put it on Heiji, before she smiled wider and said, “Because I know you’ll find me.”
“Of course I would. But what if you got lost? Or worse…” asked the twenty-nine year old, thoughts from mere minutes ago plaguing him once more. Once he secured his cap in place, he sat on the grassy earth beside her, hands on either side of the child’s form.
“I have this,” Hikaru replied, reached for the flashlight that hung around her neck, and turned it on. The bright light blinded Heiji for a moment, before he managed to shield his eyes long enough to say, “Hey, cut that out! Turn that off!”
The child cackled maliciously upon this, before she did as she was told and bombarded her father with kisses on his cheeks.
“Sheesh, you’re such a troublemaker! How did you leave the house without Mumsie and Popsie noticing?”
“I climbed the tree and hopped over the wall.”
“You did what?” said Heiji in faked fury. He then proceeded to tickle Hikaru as he muttered, “You rascal! That sounded more like a thief’s escape than a detective’s. What if you got hurt?”
“I didn’t,” was her hitching reply in between giggles. “I-heehee-promise I didn’t, Daddy!”
The tickling ended as quickly as it started, and Heiji held the girl by the shoulders and reminded her, “You must promise me not to do that again, young lady! What would your mother say?”
To this, little Hikaru noticeably turned somber.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, removing herself from the Osakan detective. “I haven’t seen her for a long time, remember?”
To the eyes of her father, Hikaru is a miniature model of Kazuha. The way her hair parted in the middle, the way her bangs fall on her forehead, her bright smile, and lean posture mirror hers perfectly. Moreover, she grew up to be cheerful, sassy, brave, and aggressive—not unlike her mother at all. Heck, if she doesn’t possess his eyes, doesn’t display a mischievous personality and a certain degree of hot-headedness, and wasn’t planning on becoming a detective, he’d think Kazuha had a little sister!
As it stands, though, the child in his arms is theirs—Heiji and Kazuha’s firstborn: Hattori Hikaru.
A bright preschooler, Hattori Hikaru loved nighttime. She most especially loved the cool night breeze. More than that, she loved the night sky… and she loved for nothing more than to see the stars.
As if to embody her name, Hattori Hikaru’s naturally attracted to things that shimmer. From Popsie’s and Pop-pop’s ebony pistols and bullets to Mumsie’s hair pin, from Daddy’s gold medal in kendo to Mommy’s omamori, heck, even the koi fish’s shiny scales… everything she sees that emits and/or bounces back light was, to her, a priceless treasure. Of course, that includes the sun and the moon… and the tiny glittery things called “stars.” She’s heard everything about them, read every book in the local library about these gaseous lightbulbs, known every color they emit.
The only problem is she can’t see them…
For some reasons, the four-year-old child was born with night-blindness, and Heiji couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It was not something she got from anyone’s side of the family; it was just there. It’s bad enough to have a single parent raising her in the absence of her mother, but it’s even worse to have the single thing that’ll make her happy invisible in her eyes. Despite this, not once has Heiji made Hikaru feel pitiful. To him, Hattori Hikaru shines brighter than any star, even with her circumstances, and he shows her more affection than any four-year-old can hope for. To make up for her disability, Heiji did—and is doing—every little thing he can to give his daughter the best. He was not one to be interested in floating balls of gas until Hikaru showed interest in them, and he, too, was eventually drawn to the fascinating cosmic bodies. He feels bad that his precious child cannot enjoy the sight like he does. Which is why, as substitute to the stars, he takes her out to the top of Tsutenkaku Tower every once in a while. There, she gets the closest thing to constellations: the lights of urban Kansai. She can’t see stars, yes, but at a hundred meters up, the street lights of Osaka are bright enough for her to see them shine like a few dozen threads of stars across the metropolis. Tonight, however, Heiji deduced she’d be where he found her, waiting for a chance to see actual floating lights draw lines across the sky. Compared to the faintness of the stars, she can see city lights as blurred blobs of fuzz, which, in her opinion, is definitely better than pitch darkness.
“Can you see me, love?” said Heiji out of the blue. The girl’s sudden muteness caused him slight distress. Perhaps, even until now, two years since she last saw her mother, Hikaru still looks for her.
“Yeah. A little,” she whispered in reply, her nose an inch away from his as her little fingers roamed her father’s face. She traced his forehead, his brows, and his eyes, down to his nose, lips and chin, before her palms rested on either side of his face. “Just stay beside Hikaru, okay?”
Her words sounded like a plea, and once more, Heiji’s heart ached for her. At that moment, little Hikaru knew that without her father, she’d be lost and alone, under the new moon and the dim lights of the stars she can’t see. With a nod and a small smile, Heiji replied, “I promise,” taking care so she won’t notice his unease.
Unceremoniously, Hikaru gave Heiji a hug, her arms flung around his neck. She buried her face on his chest, as if seeking comfort from the cold.
“Is something wrong, Pumpkin?” Heiji called as he, too, placed his arms around her.
“Daddy, when can I see Mommy again?”
Heiji bit his lip, and he swore for a moment there, his breath got caught in his throat. That was a question he’s been hearing from her for the last two years, the question that, even now, he possesses no answer to. Even if he tries to deny it, Kazuha… Kazuha is somewhere he can’t reach. Only, if he does so much as say that to her daughter, he fears she really might not come back.
“I never see her anymore,” he heard her continue, her voice faltering a little. “I can only remember her face through pictures.”
And as an afterthought, she added with a sob, “I miss her.”
“Aww, I miss her too, darling…” Heiji muttered, not knowing what else to say to make the girl feel better. He tightened his hug on her in an effort to keep the tears in. “So, so much…”
To break the heavy atmosphere threatening to build up, the private detective broke the hug and placed his hands on her face.
“Look alive, you! I thought you went out here to see stars,” he chimed with a fake smile.
“I can’t see them,” said Hikaru, the glimmer in her eyes fading each minute.
Heiji sat there silent, just watching her features. In that moment of silence, he read between the child’s words: More than anything, I want to see my mother again.
“Do you want Daddy to ask Otaki-jii to let us into the tower again? We can view Osaka from high up,” Heiji entreated. At this point, he’d suggest anything—and he meant anything, even if it meant he’d wake up the Occhan from the okonomiyaki place downtown—to see Hikaru’s shining smile again.
The preschooler shook her head vehemently at this.
“No. Let’s stay here. The Perseids are about to come out soon,” said she before giving her father another smack on the cheek and settling down on his lap.
For a while, under the shade of the evergreen, the father-daughter duo sat in comfortable calmness, listening to the nighttime orchestra organized by Mother Nature herself. Eventually, Heiji moved so his back leaned against the trunk. All that while, Hikaru remained still, head lulled against the curve of her father’s neck, as if in a state of sleep. It was when Heiji unknowingly let out an exclamation of awe that he realized the child in his arms remains awake.
“Are there any shooting stars, Daddy?” Hikaru asked. “The news says tonight is when the meteor shower will peak.”
Heiji nodded before saying, “There are. They’re beautiful.”
Hikaru let out an amused giggle, and Heiji did the same.
“You always say that!” said she, and Heiji couldn't shrug off the thought that there was jealousy in that statement. Jealousy, because he can see them but she couldn't…
“This is why you ran off, isn’t it? You wanted to see the stars?”
“Yes.”
“Well, don’t look away! There must be one that’s big and bright enough for you to see. Focus on that one point over there,” and Heiji pointed to the direction of the Perseus constellation. The little girl raised her head to take a look. To Hikaru, the area pointed out to her was a mere patch of black. Despite this, she focused as he listened to her father talk about every string of light coming from that direction. She gazed on, staring at what she can’t see, until a meteor, twice as big as a common lightbulb and twice as bright as her flashlight, in proximity they never thought possible, zoomed across the sky. To the eyes of Hikaru, that single ribbon of light, blurred as it may be because of its incandescence, sparked a sense of hope—the hope that maybe someday she’ll be able to see the stars she loves very much.
“WHOA!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed by the sight, not caring at all if the shower of stars still in process do not pass through her eyes. That single ribbon of light was enough.
Heiji couldn’t even begin to explain his feeling when his four-year-old leaped up in excitement, took a few steps forward, and reached up, as if plucking a ripening fruit from its tree.
“You saw that one didn’t you?” he shouted, standing up as he did.
“Daddy!” Hikaru exclaimed, tears of joy rolling down her face. She ran back up to her father, who was waiting with open arms, and clung to him, all too joyful for the rare sight entreated to her. “It’s-it’s wonderful! Oh, Daddy! You’re right, it’s beautiful!”
For the next few minutes, Hikaru cried, and Heiji settled with rubbing circles on her back. He moved from side to side in an attempt to soothe her. Seeing his daughter overjoyed upon such a small thing—to the point of crying, even—made his heart leap a thousand feet. This moment of bliss took Heiji back to the time when he got Kazuha to say “yes” to his proposal. And for the second time that night, the father of one drowned in that bittersweet feeling of joy and longing.
“Would you like me to catch one star for you?” Heiji said finally, once the sobbing died down.
“Yes,” she said with a hiccup. Heiji stretched an arm up to the sky, imitating what his daughter did a while back. He clenched his hand to a fist once a shooting star passed by, and retracted it to Hikaru’s eye level. The preschooler pressed her lips on the detective’s hand, in all the innocence a four-year-old possesses.
“What do you wish for, Pumpkin?” asked Heiji as he wiped away the last of her tears with his thumb.
The girl gave a thoughtful hum, before she whispered, “I wish that I can grow quickly, so that I can see Mommy again.”
Heiji forced a grin. You’ll know your daughter misses her mother when, after all the good things that happened with dad, she still looks for her mom. In a way, there’s truth in the statement. She’s—they’ve—been disconnected with her long enough. Hikaru can’t meet her mother until the right age, or until Kazuha comes around, whichever comes first. Heiji, though, wishes he could have more of Hikaru’s moments of innocence and bliss. He’d gather them all up in a bottle or a wooden box or even in something as small as an SD card, and cherish them forever. Contrary to his daughter’s wish, Heiji couldn’t help but think, Don’t. There’s no need for you to grow up just yet. Enjoy your childhood. Make more dreams. Stay a stargazer for a bit longer.
Because I’m willing to give everything up to make you happy.
Because reality is unfair and cruel…
“I bet you’ll see her again soon,” was Heiji’s slurry reply. And gods, right now he’s thankful she can’t see that well in the darkness, else she’ll notice clear liquid forming on the side of his eyes. Instead, she gave him a toothy grin.
“Then we can all watch the stars together, right?”
The detective forced himself to smile before he kissed her on the forehead and pulled her closer.
“Of course.”
“How about you, Daddy? What’s your wish?” asked Hikaru out of curiosity.
Hattori Heiji pursed his lips. He’s never seen himself to be the type of person to make a wish. That’s just ridiculous! Nothing can happen with a wish! One must work really hard in order to achieve something.
However, under the pretext that he’d do just about anything to protect his child’s innocence, he replied without a hint of reluctance.
“I wish for Hikaru to see the stars… I wish you can see them with Daddy and Mommy.”
“I know that wish will come true,” the younger one swooned.
“How can you tell?”
The four-year-old reasoned, “Daddy’s a good person, and good things happen to good people, right?”
Slowly, a smile formed on Heiji’s lips. Maybe it’s not that ridiculous to wish, after all…
“Yeah. They do.”
The child lifted her head and said, “Kirakira?” to which her father was more than willing to reply, “Hikaru!”
With that, Hikaru pressed her hands on Heiji’s cheeks and pecked him on the lips.
“I love you, Daddy,” said she.
Heiji held her tight, placed another kiss on her forehead, and muttered, “I love you too, munchkin…”
“Shall we go home? You’ve been out too late. Mumsie’s gonna get mad at you.”
And with that, the father-daughter tandem strode home, with Heiji holding his half-asleep child close to him.
“Come to think of it, Mommy’s birthday is coming soon,” the dark-skinned detective mentioned. “What shall we do for your mom’s birthday?”
And, getting no response, Heiji took a glance at the child to find her sleeping with a peaceful smile on her face.
The father of one did the same. If this was ten years ago, Heiji never would have thought he’d be cherishing someone the way he does with his wife and daughter.
Truly it’s strange how a single person’s existence can change someone forever.
As the girl in his arms drifts into a world where the stars twinkle low and bright just above her head, Heiji couldn’t help but be thankful for how becoming a father changed him.
“Hikaru.”
That was the name given to her by her mother, and she was Heiji’s saving grace—his reason to keep holding on to the hope that someday, the woman he loves will be able to watch her shine along with him.
“Happy birthday, Mommy! Daddy and I prepared a surprise for you!
“Ta-da!~ Hikaru made her own omamori! Do you wanna know what’s inside?
“Surprise! It’s a marble! It’s shiny and blue and it’s got glitter in it. Beautiful, right?
“I’ll have Daddy give this to you when he comes over. Don’t lose it, okay? Hold on to it very tight until you wake up, all right?”
“Heheh, this kid…” Heiji commented as the video on his phone continued to play. “I still can’t get over the fact that she looks just like you. I learned how to tie her hair up, y’see. She really does look like you!”
“You know what, Mommy? The other night, Daddy and I watched the Perseids. I saw a shooting star, Mommy! It’s very big and bright and long… I wish we could’ve seen it together…”
“I met Hakuba yesterday. He said Hikaru’s eyesight can still improve. Do you think, maybe, I should consult a legit eye specialist? That person’s a neurosurgeon, after all. What does he know about night-blindness?”
The Detective of the West snorted. Even now, he finds it hard to believe that one of his fellow detectives is now active in the field of medicine.
The lingering scent of anesthetics and the steady beating of the paraphernalia filled Heiji’s senses as he waited in vain for a reply. Not able to get any, Heiji’s grin slowly turned into a frown. For the record, the intensive care unit wasn’t the most caring place for anyone other than the patient.
“I miss you Mommy,” the girl in the video continued on. “Daddy misses you too… Hikaru can’t see you now, but I hope you’re okay. Next time we meet, we’ll watch the stars together, okay?”
And after a few kisses blown to the direction of the watcher, the video ended. Heaving a deep sigh, Heiji pocketed his phone, leaned closer to the sleeping body in the middle of the room and stuttered, “I know you’re still in there, Kazuha. I know y’can hear me so listen up…
“There’s a little girl out there whose only wish is to see her mother again. And my conscience wouldn’t bear it if that said girl doesn’t get what she wants.
“Your daughter’s growing up, ‘Zuha. You can’t miss that for the world…
“So you better hurry up and heal fast so you can wake up soon.”
With both hands, Heiji reached for Kazuha’s . The private detective squeezed it twice before he continued, “She’d want to hear your voice. She’d want to have her mother back…”
Heiji gulped audibly before he said in a low voice, “I want you back.”
One of his hands went up to stroke her head, while the other stayed to caress her hand.
“It’s been two years since you bumped your head. Shouldn’t you wake up already?”
Another weary sigh, and the boy found himself leaning his forehead against his wife’s.
“Look, I… know I’m terrible with words but… I miss you, love. Please come back. It’s painful watching her grow up without you. If not for me, then please do it for Hikaru.”
Without him meaning it to, a lone tear dropped on her cheek. He stared at it for a while, wondering why it’s even there at the first place, before he realized it was his own, brought about by the thought of his daughter and his wife.
But, perhaps, it was because of that, that a trickle of clear liquid came out of her eyelids.
Heiji’s eyes widened upon the sight. Does this mean…?
“K-Kazuha?” he called out, completely dumbfounded by the sight. A light squeeze on his hand caused him to flinch.
“Kazuha?” Heiji called yet again. And again. She’s in there. She’s coming back, and little by little he’s managing to pull her out, something that he’s never done before.
“Kazuha!” Heiji practically screamed, and before him, along with his tears streaming uncontrollably, Kazuha slowly swung her eyes open…
“You know what, Hikaru? Daddy’s got a wish that he really really wants right now.”
“More than anything?”
“Yes. More than anything…”
“What is it, Daddy?”
“It’s for your mom to wake up. If Mommy wakes up soon, you don’t have to wait until you’re the right age to see her…”
“Oh… Will she wake up soon, Daddy?”
“I don’t know, Hikaru. But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that your mother won’t let anything get in the way of seeing you again, even if it’s a deep, long slumber.”
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except Hattori Hikaru and the evergreen atop the hill. I know nothing about night-blindness so please correct me if I got something wrong. Kazuha's birthday has no canonical reference.
A/N:
vocab box and background info, for everyone's convenience:
*omamori - lucky charm
*Kirakira Hikaru - a Japanese nursery rhyme, equivalent to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star"
*hikaru - to shine, hence the reference to stars and lights, etc.
*Perseids - meteors that fall during the Perseid meteor shower, occurs every year between July 17 and August 24. The shower tends to peak around Aug 9-13, so the story falls along those dates.
Also, for everyone's reference:
*Popsie is Hattori Heizo
*Mumsie is Hattori Shizuka
*Pop-pop is Toyama Ginshirou
*And yes, guys, Hakuba's a doctor :3
...
Except I'm not sure if adding an original character doesn't disqualify me or something. I've checked, but I can't find a rule anywhere restricting an OC, so... Heiji!~
This turned out to be fun to write, since I get to incorporate a headcanon character. I liked how the story flowed too. It's just... is this entry even legal? *paranoids*
Also, I have decided to make this story a part of a compilation, featuring the Gosho Boys as responsible parents.
Enjoy~
Title: Shooting Star
Word Count: 3936
Characters: H. Heiji, T. Kazuha, OC, H. Saguru (mentioned)
Rating: K
Genres: Family/Hurt/Comfort
FFN link: Here
I. Hattori Heiji: Shooting Star
Raising a child is hard enough, but raising a child alone is a much harder challenge, especially if said child loves sneaking out at night to stare blankly at the sky.
It’s half-past eleven, and Hattori Heiji’s nowhere near finished with his search. For five hours and counting, in the middle of what could be the coldest night of the summer, in only his shirt, jeans, and a pair of sneakers, Heiji searched every single high ground in Osaka for what could be the seventh time that month.
Looking for missing people is part of being a detective. He’s been doing this for more than twenty years and to say that he’s used to late-night searches is an understatement. Needless to say, that’s not what’s keeping the Osakan detective on edge. What’s keeping him antsy is what or who it is he’s looking for.
“That darn brat!” he muttered under his breath as he turned another corner. Heiji ran his fingers through his hair in an agitated fashion. He’s been up and around Tsutenkaku Tower thrice (thanks to Otaki-han, he can still enter the premises way past viewing hours), traveling by foot from this point to the next, skimming throngs of people for a single head in the crowd wearing his favorite baseball cap.
Heiji heaved an exhausted breath, wiping a trail of sweat with the back of his hand. He took out his phone to check if there’s any message from anyone about that person’s whereabouts. There was none, so he opted to check the time instead. It’s almost twelve. Just what kind of place would a four-year-old go to this late?
The detective ended up staring at his phone much longer than he intended, his eyes traveled to the date. And then it hit him…
“The Perseids!” he shouted, and broke a run to the direction of his parents’ house.
Near their dwelling is a hill, elevated at around thirty feet from the ground, with a lone tree standing high and tall atop of it. He and Kazuha used to play there with the other neighborhood kids, he recalled, and that was the perfect viewing spot to watch the night sky. It’s a good thing no one ever dared trample around the place, as some believed the evergreen housed the soul of a restless spirit—a common urban legend to the Osakan detective’s ears.
True enough, when Heiji reached the top, by the lone evergreen was a silhouetted figure of a child. Heiji approached with mastered stealth, careful not to make any sudden noise that may frighten his target. As he drew nearer, a smile of relief formed on his lips. There was his Sax’s cap, on the same child’s head, its visor pointed behind her, as if the ponytailed four-year-old was imitating the way he always wore it.
“Kirakira…” Heiji hollered when he got close enough. In response, the child turned her head to his direction, flung herself around him and answered, “Hikaru!”
That was a greeting specially made for the two of them, akin to the nursery rhyme she loves so much. In response, the father of one hugged her back tightly, caressing the strands of hair his fingers can reach.
“Oh, Hikaru, honey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You know you can’t see well in the dark. Why do you keep running off alone at night?”
The private detective detached himself to look at the younger one. In the darkness of the night, with only the celestial bodies as their source of light, cyan eyes, not unlike his, glowed like precious gemstones. The little girl, who was curled up to her knees up until her father found her, gave a carefree grin. And for a moment, everything was perfect.
The four-year-old reached for the cap on her head, took it off and put it on Heiji, before she smiled wider and said, “Because I know you’ll find me.”
“Of course I would. But what if you got lost? Or worse…” asked the twenty-nine year old, thoughts from mere minutes ago plaguing him once more. Once he secured his cap in place, he sat on the grassy earth beside her, hands on either side of the child’s form.
“I have this,” Hikaru replied, reached for the flashlight that hung around her neck, and turned it on. The bright light blinded Heiji for a moment, before he managed to shield his eyes long enough to say, “Hey, cut that out! Turn that off!”
The child cackled maliciously upon this, before she did as she was told and bombarded her father with kisses on his cheeks.
“Sheesh, you’re such a troublemaker! How did you leave the house without Mumsie and Popsie noticing?”
“I climbed the tree and hopped over the wall.”
“You did what?” said Heiji in faked fury. He then proceeded to tickle Hikaru as he muttered, “You rascal! That sounded more like a thief’s escape than a detective’s. What if you got hurt?”
“I didn’t,” was her hitching reply in between giggles. “I-heehee-promise I didn’t, Daddy!”
The tickling ended as quickly as it started, and Heiji held the girl by the shoulders and reminded her, “You must promise me not to do that again, young lady! What would your mother say?”
To this, little Hikaru noticeably turned somber.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, removing herself from the Osakan detective. “I haven’t seen her for a long time, remember?”
To the eyes of her father, Hikaru is a miniature model of Kazuha. The way her hair parted in the middle, the way her bangs fall on her forehead, her bright smile, and lean posture mirror hers perfectly. Moreover, she grew up to be cheerful, sassy, brave, and aggressive—not unlike her mother at all. Heck, if she doesn’t possess his eyes, doesn’t display a mischievous personality and a certain degree of hot-headedness, and wasn’t planning on becoming a detective, he’d think Kazuha had a little sister!
As it stands, though, the child in his arms is theirs—Heiji and Kazuha’s firstborn: Hattori Hikaru.
A bright preschooler, Hattori Hikaru loved nighttime. She most especially loved the cool night breeze. More than that, she loved the night sky… and she loved for nothing more than to see the stars.
As if to embody her name, Hattori Hikaru’s naturally attracted to things that shimmer. From Popsie’s and Pop-pop’s ebony pistols and bullets to Mumsie’s hair pin, from Daddy’s gold medal in kendo to Mommy’s omamori, heck, even the koi fish’s shiny scales… everything she sees that emits and/or bounces back light was, to her, a priceless treasure. Of course, that includes the sun and the moon… and the tiny glittery things called “stars.” She’s heard everything about them, read every book in the local library about these gaseous lightbulbs, known every color they emit.
The only problem is she can’t see them…
For some reasons, the four-year-old child was born with night-blindness, and Heiji couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It was not something she got from anyone’s side of the family; it was just there. It’s bad enough to have a single parent raising her in the absence of her mother, but it’s even worse to have the single thing that’ll make her happy invisible in her eyes. Despite this, not once has Heiji made Hikaru feel pitiful. To him, Hattori Hikaru shines brighter than any star, even with her circumstances, and he shows her more affection than any four-year-old can hope for. To make up for her disability, Heiji did—and is doing—every little thing he can to give his daughter the best. He was not one to be interested in floating balls of gas until Hikaru showed interest in them, and he, too, was eventually drawn to the fascinating cosmic bodies. He feels bad that his precious child cannot enjoy the sight like he does. Which is why, as substitute to the stars, he takes her out to the top of Tsutenkaku Tower every once in a while. There, she gets the closest thing to constellations: the lights of urban Kansai. She can’t see stars, yes, but at a hundred meters up, the street lights of Osaka are bright enough for her to see them shine like a few dozen threads of stars across the metropolis. Tonight, however, Heiji deduced she’d be where he found her, waiting for a chance to see actual floating lights draw lines across the sky. Compared to the faintness of the stars, she can see city lights as blurred blobs of fuzz, which, in her opinion, is definitely better than pitch darkness.
“Can you see me, love?” said Heiji out of the blue. The girl’s sudden muteness caused him slight distress. Perhaps, even until now, two years since she last saw her mother, Hikaru still looks for her.
“Yeah. A little,” she whispered in reply, her nose an inch away from his as her little fingers roamed her father’s face. She traced his forehead, his brows, and his eyes, down to his nose, lips and chin, before her palms rested on either side of his face. “Just stay beside Hikaru, okay?”
Her words sounded like a plea, and once more, Heiji’s heart ached for her. At that moment, little Hikaru knew that without her father, she’d be lost and alone, under the new moon and the dim lights of the stars she can’t see. With a nod and a small smile, Heiji replied, “I promise,” taking care so she won’t notice his unease.
Unceremoniously, Hikaru gave Heiji a hug, her arms flung around his neck. She buried her face on his chest, as if seeking comfort from the cold.
“Is something wrong, Pumpkin?” Heiji called as he, too, placed his arms around her.
“Daddy, when can I see Mommy again?”
Heiji bit his lip, and he swore for a moment there, his breath got caught in his throat. That was a question he’s been hearing from her for the last two years, the question that, even now, he possesses no answer to. Even if he tries to deny it, Kazuha… Kazuha is somewhere he can’t reach. Only, if he does so much as say that to her daughter, he fears she really might not come back.
“I never see her anymore,” he heard her continue, her voice faltering a little. “I can only remember her face through pictures.”
And as an afterthought, she added with a sob, “I miss her.”
“Aww, I miss her too, darling…” Heiji muttered, not knowing what else to say to make the girl feel better. He tightened his hug on her in an effort to keep the tears in. “So, so much…”
To break the heavy atmosphere threatening to build up, the private detective broke the hug and placed his hands on her face.
“Look alive, you! I thought you went out here to see stars,” he chimed with a fake smile.
“I can’t see them,” said Hikaru, the glimmer in her eyes fading each minute.
Heiji sat there silent, just watching her features. In that moment of silence, he read between the child’s words: More than anything, I want to see my mother again.
“Do you want Daddy to ask Otaki-jii to let us into the tower again? We can view Osaka from high up,” Heiji entreated. At this point, he’d suggest anything—and he meant anything, even if it meant he’d wake up the Occhan from the okonomiyaki place downtown—to see Hikaru’s shining smile again.
The preschooler shook her head vehemently at this.
“No. Let’s stay here. The Perseids are about to come out soon,” said she before giving her father another smack on the cheek and settling down on his lap.
For a while, under the shade of the evergreen, the father-daughter duo sat in comfortable calmness, listening to the nighttime orchestra organized by Mother Nature herself. Eventually, Heiji moved so his back leaned against the trunk. All that while, Hikaru remained still, head lulled against the curve of her father’s neck, as if in a state of sleep. It was when Heiji unknowingly let out an exclamation of awe that he realized the child in his arms remains awake.
“Are there any shooting stars, Daddy?” Hikaru asked. “The news says tonight is when the meteor shower will peak.”
Heiji nodded before saying, “There are. They’re beautiful.”
Hikaru let out an amused giggle, and Heiji did the same.
“You always say that!” said she, and Heiji couldn't shrug off the thought that there was jealousy in that statement. Jealousy, because he can see them but she couldn't…
“This is why you ran off, isn’t it? You wanted to see the stars?”
“Yes.”
“Well, don’t look away! There must be one that’s big and bright enough for you to see. Focus on that one point over there,” and Heiji pointed to the direction of the Perseus constellation. The little girl raised her head to take a look. To Hikaru, the area pointed out to her was a mere patch of black. Despite this, she focused as he listened to her father talk about every string of light coming from that direction. She gazed on, staring at what she can’t see, until a meteor, twice as big as a common lightbulb and twice as bright as her flashlight, in proximity they never thought possible, zoomed across the sky. To the eyes of Hikaru, that single ribbon of light, blurred as it may be because of its incandescence, sparked a sense of hope—the hope that maybe someday she’ll be able to see the stars she loves very much.
“WHOA!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed by the sight, not caring at all if the shower of stars still in process do not pass through her eyes. That single ribbon of light was enough.
Heiji couldn’t even begin to explain his feeling when his four-year-old leaped up in excitement, took a few steps forward, and reached up, as if plucking a ripening fruit from its tree.
“You saw that one didn’t you?” he shouted, standing up as he did.
“Daddy!” Hikaru exclaimed, tears of joy rolling down her face. She ran back up to her father, who was waiting with open arms, and clung to him, all too joyful for the rare sight entreated to her. “It’s-it’s wonderful! Oh, Daddy! You’re right, it’s beautiful!”
For the next few minutes, Hikaru cried, and Heiji settled with rubbing circles on her back. He moved from side to side in an attempt to soothe her. Seeing his daughter overjoyed upon such a small thing—to the point of crying, even—made his heart leap a thousand feet. This moment of bliss took Heiji back to the time when he got Kazuha to say “yes” to his proposal. And for the second time that night, the father of one drowned in that bittersweet feeling of joy and longing.
“Would you like me to catch one star for you?” Heiji said finally, once the sobbing died down.
“Yes,” she said with a hiccup. Heiji stretched an arm up to the sky, imitating what his daughter did a while back. He clenched his hand to a fist once a shooting star passed by, and retracted it to Hikaru’s eye level. The preschooler pressed her lips on the detective’s hand, in all the innocence a four-year-old possesses.
“What do you wish for, Pumpkin?” asked Heiji as he wiped away the last of her tears with his thumb.
The girl gave a thoughtful hum, before she whispered, “I wish that I can grow quickly, so that I can see Mommy again.”
Heiji forced a grin. You’ll know your daughter misses her mother when, after all the good things that happened with dad, she still looks for her mom. In a way, there’s truth in the statement. She’s—they’ve—been disconnected with her long enough. Hikaru can’t meet her mother until the right age, or until Kazuha comes around, whichever comes first. Heiji, though, wishes he could have more of Hikaru’s moments of innocence and bliss. He’d gather them all up in a bottle or a wooden box or even in something as small as an SD card, and cherish them forever. Contrary to his daughter’s wish, Heiji couldn’t help but think, Don’t. There’s no need for you to grow up just yet. Enjoy your childhood. Make more dreams. Stay a stargazer for a bit longer.
Because I’m willing to give everything up to make you happy.
Because reality is unfair and cruel…
“I bet you’ll see her again soon,” was Heiji’s slurry reply. And gods, right now he’s thankful she can’t see that well in the darkness, else she’ll notice clear liquid forming on the side of his eyes. Instead, she gave him a toothy grin.
“Then we can all watch the stars together, right?”
The detective forced himself to smile before he kissed her on the forehead and pulled her closer.
“Of course.”
“How about you, Daddy? What’s your wish?” asked Hikaru out of curiosity.
Hattori Heiji pursed his lips. He’s never seen himself to be the type of person to make a wish. That’s just ridiculous! Nothing can happen with a wish! One must work really hard in order to achieve something.
However, under the pretext that he’d do just about anything to protect his child’s innocence, he replied without a hint of reluctance.
“I wish for Hikaru to see the stars… I wish you can see them with Daddy and Mommy.”
“I know that wish will come true,” the younger one swooned.
“How can you tell?”
The four-year-old reasoned, “Daddy’s a good person, and good things happen to good people, right?”
Slowly, a smile formed on Heiji’s lips. Maybe it’s not that ridiculous to wish, after all…
“Yeah. They do.”
The child lifted her head and said, “Kirakira?” to which her father was more than willing to reply, “Hikaru!”
With that, Hikaru pressed her hands on Heiji’s cheeks and pecked him on the lips.
“I love you, Daddy,” said she.
Heiji held her tight, placed another kiss on her forehead, and muttered, “I love you too, munchkin…”
“Shall we go home? You’ve been out too late. Mumsie’s gonna get mad at you.”
And with that, the father-daughter tandem strode home, with Heiji holding his half-asleep child close to him.
“Come to think of it, Mommy’s birthday is coming soon,” the dark-skinned detective mentioned. “What shall we do for your mom’s birthday?”
And, getting no response, Heiji took a glance at the child to find her sleeping with a peaceful smile on her face.
The father of one did the same. If this was ten years ago, Heiji never would have thought he’d be cherishing someone the way he does with his wife and daughter.
Truly it’s strange how a single person’s existence can change someone forever.
As the girl in his arms drifts into a world where the stars twinkle low and bright just above her head, Heiji couldn’t help but be thankful for how becoming a father changed him.
“Hikaru.”
That was the name given to her by her mother, and she was Heiji’s saving grace—his reason to keep holding on to the hope that someday, the woman he loves will be able to watch her shine along with him.
-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-
“Happy birthday, Mommy! Daddy and I prepared a surprise for you!
“Ta-da!~ Hikaru made her own omamori! Do you wanna know what’s inside?
“Surprise! It’s a marble! It’s shiny and blue and it’s got glitter in it. Beautiful, right?
“I’ll have Daddy give this to you when he comes over. Don’t lose it, okay? Hold on to it very tight until you wake up, all right?”
“Heheh, this kid…” Heiji commented as the video on his phone continued to play. “I still can’t get over the fact that she looks just like you. I learned how to tie her hair up, y’see. She really does look like you!”
“You know what, Mommy? The other night, Daddy and I watched the Perseids. I saw a shooting star, Mommy! It’s very big and bright and long… I wish we could’ve seen it together…”
“I met Hakuba yesterday. He said Hikaru’s eyesight can still improve. Do you think, maybe, I should consult a legit eye specialist? That person’s a neurosurgeon, after all. What does he know about night-blindness?”
The Detective of the West snorted. Even now, he finds it hard to believe that one of his fellow detectives is now active in the field of medicine.
The lingering scent of anesthetics and the steady beating of the paraphernalia filled Heiji’s senses as he waited in vain for a reply. Not able to get any, Heiji’s grin slowly turned into a frown. For the record, the intensive care unit wasn’t the most caring place for anyone other than the patient.
“I miss you Mommy,” the girl in the video continued on. “Daddy misses you too… Hikaru can’t see you now, but I hope you’re okay. Next time we meet, we’ll watch the stars together, okay?”
And after a few kisses blown to the direction of the watcher, the video ended. Heaving a deep sigh, Heiji pocketed his phone, leaned closer to the sleeping body in the middle of the room and stuttered, “I know you’re still in there, Kazuha. I know y’can hear me so listen up…
“There’s a little girl out there whose only wish is to see her mother again. And my conscience wouldn’t bear it if that said girl doesn’t get what she wants.
“Your daughter’s growing up, ‘Zuha. You can’t miss that for the world…
“So you better hurry up and heal fast so you can wake up soon.”
With both hands, Heiji reached for Kazuha’s . The private detective squeezed it twice before he continued, “She’d want to hear your voice. She’d want to have her mother back…”
Heiji gulped audibly before he said in a low voice, “I want you back.”
One of his hands went up to stroke her head, while the other stayed to caress her hand.
“It’s been two years since you bumped your head. Shouldn’t you wake up already?”
Another weary sigh, and the boy found himself leaning his forehead against his wife’s.
“Look, I… know I’m terrible with words but… I miss you, love. Please come back. It’s painful watching her grow up without you. If not for me, then please do it for Hikaru.”
Without him meaning it to, a lone tear dropped on her cheek. He stared at it for a while, wondering why it’s even there at the first place, before he realized it was his own, brought about by the thought of his daughter and his wife.
But, perhaps, it was because of that, that a trickle of clear liquid came out of her eyelids.
Heiji’s eyes widened upon the sight. Does this mean…?
“K-Kazuha?” he called out, completely dumbfounded by the sight. A light squeeze on his hand caused him to flinch.
“Kazuha?” Heiji called yet again. And again. She’s in there. She’s coming back, and little by little he’s managing to pull her out, something that he’s never done before.
“Kazuha!” Heiji practically screamed, and before him, along with his tears streaming uncontrollably, Kazuha slowly swung her eyes open…
-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-
“You know what, Hikaru? Daddy’s got a wish that he really really wants right now.”
“More than anything?”
“Yes. More than anything…”
“What is it, Daddy?”
“It’s for your mom to wake up. If Mommy wakes up soon, you don’t have to wait until you’re the right age to see her…”
“Oh… Will she wake up soon, Daddy?”
“I don’t know, Hikaru. But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that your mother won’t let anything get in the way of seeing you again, even if it’s a deep, long slumber.”
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except Hattori Hikaru and the evergreen atop the hill. I know nothing about night-blindness so please correct me if I got something wrong. Kazuha's birthday has no canonical reference.
A/N:
vocab box and background info, for everyone's convenience:
*omamori - lucky charm
*Kirakira Hikaru - a Japanese nursery rhyme, equivalent to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star"
*hikaru - to shine, hence the reference to stars and lights, etc.
*Perseids - meteors that fall during the Perseid meteor shower, occurs every year between July 17 and August 24. The shower tends to peak around Aug 9-13, so the story falls along those dates.
Also, for everyone's reference:
*Popsie is Hattori Heizo
*Mumsie is Hattori Shizuka
*Pop-pop is Toyama Ginshirou
*And yes, guys, Hakuba's a doctor :3