It was a bright, sunny day. The sort everyone associated with happy things. The sky was a clear light blue, with scattered white puffy clouds. The sun was shining brightly. The grass was a bright shade of green, presenting a pleasant foreground for a row of houses across the road. Groups of people, mostly families, were sitting or playing in the park. Small children were running around a slide and some were on the swings. A red blanket was spread under a tree, on the side of the park grounds, and a young couple were eating lunch. Everything was giving off a vibe of peacefulness, of perfection, of fulfillment.

   But in a far corner of the park, under a tall tree with wide branches, leaning against the trunk, was a small boy. He was probably no more then nine or ten, sitting with his legs drawn up, hugging his knees. His deep purple eyes shone with unshed tears. The little boy bit his bottom lip as he watched the people from afar. As he witnessed a reminder of what he had lost.
 

father of mine
tell me where have you been
you know i just closed my eyes
my whole world disappeared
 

   As he started to cry, silently, he closed his eyes to the visions before him. He blocked out the sounds, and tried to forget all his pain. He pressed his face to his legs then moved his arms to cover his hair, to further hide his pain from anyone nearby. Brown hair, compliments of both his fathers. Light shades from Daddy and dark from....him. Because of modern techniques the boy was able to look like both his parents instead of just one and part of a surrogate mother. He had his daddy's smile and love for life. From him he got his high intelligence, stern gaze, and strength. Qualities he sometimes hated for the mere fact they came from him.

    "Are you okay?" A soft voice suddenly interrupted the boy's thoughts.

  Looking up, with his tear stained face, he was greeted by a young lady. She was smiling warmly but had shallow lines of worried etched in her face. The boy stuttered an excuse as he got up and walked away, trying to ignore the lingering glances of the woman.
 

father of mine
take me back to the day
when i was still your golden boy
back before you went away
 

   As the child walked towards the street he could no longer completely block his thoughts. The came in a flood, washing over him. Tiny flashes of past days, insignificant memories that meant the world to him. He remembered days, just like this, where he had been part of that happy crowd. An image floated to his mind, as he kept walking.
 

   A young man with short, dark brown hair falling in his eyes, was leaning against the trunk of a tree. Another man leaned against his companion's chest, nuzzled in the crook of his neck. The second had very long hair, held in a braid, which was falling over his shoulder, onto the first's lap. The young man leaning on the tree was idly stroking the other's hair. Moments passed in peaceful quite as a very small boy cuddled in between them, feeling completely loved. Looking up, the man with long hair leaned to kiss his lover. A tender, long, kiss was exchanged and then they moved apart, slowly. Leaning his head unto the other's, the man with dark brown hair whispered three soft words.....
 

i remember blue skies
walking the block
i loved it when you held me high
i loved to hear you talk
 

    The boy had made it down the street and was heading towards his block. He kept his head down, so the people didn't see his still wet face. Looking at his worn out red shoes hitting the pavement reminded him of other times when he was young. Times he didn't want to think about, because they would always be followed be worse ones, but couldn't help it as they crossed his mind.
 

   A boy of about four was riding a bike, for the first time without training wheels. A tall man, presumably his father, was walking besides him. Whenever the small child began to slip, he would upright him.

   "See Takeshi, you can do it. It's all in here," The man said, lightly tapping the boy's chest.

  The boy grinned up at his father, his tiny, spaced  teeth glistening in the sun. " 'hank you papa!"

   Smiling the man nodded, ruffling the young boy's hair. After a few more tries on the bike, and only one more tumble, the little boy was riding better. The bike wasn't turing madly from side to side, and was going a stead pace. The boy was grinning madly and yelling happily "I can do's it! Daddy! Daddy, come see! I can do's it!!!"

   The front door of a small house opened, and the man with the braid stepped out. Looking towards his son he smiled wide.

    "Takeshi! I'm so proud," He said. Evidently he had been making supper, because in one of his hands was a long spoon, dripping sauce. Turning  to the other, older, man he said, "Heero-kun, thank you for helping him..."

   Shrugging the man walked to his koi, and wrapped his arm around his waist, in a loose hug. "No big deal....but thank you, Duo, for making use our dinner," he practically whispered before he kissed the man.

   When they broke off the kiss, the braided man turned to the boy, who hand gotten off his bike and was standing there watching the two of them. Smiling slyly the boy said, "Daddy gots kisses."

   Grinning at each other the men separated, keeping their hands entwined. "That's right. Now, come inside, the both of you, before all my cooking gets cold."

  With that the little boy ran up to the braided man, scrambling into his arms, and all three walked into the house, the door shutting soundly behind them.
 

you would take me to the movie
you would take me to the beach
you would take me to a place inside
that is so hard to reach
 

    Takeshi walked up his driveway slowly. Looking up he saw his Dad's car parked in front of their house. It was odd, somehow. Even after the war and his parent's involvement in Operation Meteor, the knowledge of which they had not hesitated to keep from him, it seemed odd that they had chosen to live in the suburbs of California. On earth none-the-less. But then again, why would they have wanted to be reminded of all the problems that had been in space and on the colonies?

  Dropping that line of thought, he opened the front door. It creaked loudly, reminding him that it needed to be oiled. 'When we have the money' he thought. It wasn't fair. His Dad worked two jobs, trying to keep them stable. Takeshi barely saw him anymore, and they still had problems keeping up on their bills. But at least when he was home he tried to be the best parent he could be. He would take him out to see a movie or to just get an ice-cream. Subconsciously trying to remake better days.

   The boy could remember a time when things were good. They had had enough money to live comfortably. When Papa had still lived with them, when they could have done almost anything. When he felt.....whole. He had been happy then. He could have come home and been sated just to be there. It was so hard to feel good anymore. It was like everything had just paled or died. Nothing was good anymore. Nothing.
 

father of mine
tell me where did you go
you had the world inside your hand
but you did not seem to know
 

   His tears were coming back. He rushed through the house, noting that his Dad was sleeping on the threadbare couch. As quietly, and as fast, as he could, he shut his door. Takeshi practically threw himself on his bed. Sobbing he tried to muffle his noise with his pillow. He shouldn't, no Couldn't be weak. He had to be strong, to get through this, to be better then it.

    Suddenly there was a knock on the door. A soft, comforting voice came through the door. "Honey? Takeshi, what's wrong? Can I come in?"

    The crying boy tried to respond, but all that came out was a huge sob. Without looking up he knew his father had walked in. A moment later his bed shifted, as the braided man sat down. Without words the boy shifted into the older man's warm embrace, no longer trying to be quiet.
The man with the long hair rocking his small son back and forth, trying to comfort him.

     After a long while Takeshi brushed off the wetness on his cheek. Shifting, so he was sitting but still in his father's arms, he looked up. "Ai shiteru, father."   The blue eyed man smiled, nodding, and replied by giving Takeshi a tight hug.
 

father of mine
tell me what do you see
when you look back at your wasted life
and you don't see me
 

    Four years had past, since that day at the park. Not much had changed, except that Takeshi had grown taller, and somewhat broader, and that he and his dad had saved up for a vacation. They were currently on L2, visiting people his father knew. They were also potential clients for Duo's now steady, not to mention well paying, job. So that meant Takeshi had the majority of the day free to look around the town.

   So he had been walking around, gazing at the things that were so different then on Earth.  Everything in general seemed alien to him. The flowers gave off a different smell, the water tasted odd, and even the dirt looked unusual.

    As the, now, young man walked along the crowded street he noticed a man. He didn't know why he recognized him. He had just looked up, and upon seeing the man's face, though 'hey, i know him...'

    The man, who wasn't very old, nor was he young. His very dark brown hair was cut short, but not very much so, and he had somewhat longer bangs, that framed his face. His skin was a light tanned color, paling next to his deep gray suit. His entire stature gave off an air of importance.

     Takeshi had now completely stopped walking. He was just staring at the man who was walking towards him, although he was a ways off. Takeshi was gazing at his eyes. It was those eyes that was what he recognized the most. Those dark purplely colored eyes that shone in the light.   Suddenly he realized who was walking towards him. His father. The man that had left him, so many years ago.

    He watched, with a slight ache in his chest and a feeling of a full throat, like someone had shoved cotton down it. His mouth was opened slightly, yet he wasn't breathing quite normally. His lips tingled slightly, for a reason unknown, yet he was not aware of this. All he was conscience of was the man walking towards him. That's all he seemed to be. Just a man who had been known to him. But also just a stranger who had killed him. Who had destroyed his life.

   The dark eyed man was only a few feet away now. Takeshi didn't think he recognized his own son. A few moments later he knew this was true. He had  walked past him. Just walked by his own son, like he was only another local boy. Someone unimportant, insignificant.
 

i was ten years old
doing all that i could
it wasn't easy for me
to be a scared white boy
in a black neighborhood
 

   Takeshi felt numb, yet he was burning with emotion. Hatred, sadness, loss, and most powerful of all....useless. He had been reminded of how he wasn't loved by one of the people who should love him forever and always, no matter. He knew he was going to cry. He tried not to, he really did. Boys don't cry...always the motto went. But he was human, humans did cry, no matter gender. It was an emotional reaction, that one couldn't help. Still he couldn't help feeling weak for it.

   Wiping away his tears he turned on his heel. Heading after the man who had abandoned him. It took only a moment to catch up. He didn't know what to do, so he just followed closely behind him for a short while. Finally Takeshi just grabbed the man's shoulder and flung him about-face. He realized as he did this, that it probably wasn't a smart idea, seeming that his father had been a very skilled Gundam pilot, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it came.

   Heero stared at the young man who had flung him around to face him. Anger boiled in him. Before he could help himself he let his anger control him.

    "What!!?" he spat.

    Takeshi just gave him a cruel grin, which came out somewhat like a sneer. "You don't recognize me do you?"

   The taller of the two felt slightly confused, but his anger was still bubbling beneath his skin. "Should I? I usually don't make a habit of talking to children who grab people in the streets."

   "You don't make a habit of children in general. Especially your own."

   Heero realized then that the young man was crying. Not the loud sort of crying, but the kind where tears roll down one's cheek. His face faltered for a moment. Then he realized who the boy was. He was his son...his little boy. Yet the boy who stood before him was neither little nor was he his. Heero had left him. And Duo.

   "I-I-I'm sorry. But I am late for a meeting, please excuse me," He stammered, wrenching free of Takeshi's grasp, spilling what was in his coat's pocket onto the ground. He didn't stop to pick any of it up. He just rushed away, once again disappearing into the crowd.

   Takeshi made no attempt to follow him, only shouted after him. " I hate you! You left me! You left Dad to care for me! Let the man you loved, raise me on his own. HE cared! He raised me, when you just walked out! I hate you!"

   Ignoring the stares of the passerby's he sank to the ground. Sobs racked his body as he curled on the ground. Crying and muttering to himself. He knew he was making a scene, but he couldn't care. To much pain. To much to care.
 

sometimes you would send me a birthday card
with a five dollar bill
i never understood you then
and i guess i never will
 

   After a few minutes, and numerous offers of help, later,  Takeshi sat up. His face was wet, and he was still crying, albeit quieter. He was kneeling on the sidewalk, where he had stood with his father. He hurt, badly. His whole body was weak yet he was fully awake. Gazing down at the ground he looked at the things Heero had dropped. There was a a card, probably for his work, an dark blue and gold pen, and......And a picture.

   The photo was old, worn around the edges and torn near the bottom. It was a clear picture though. After all these years it seemed ironic that his father should have this certain picture. The photo had been taken soon before his seventh birthday. About a year and a half before his perfect world came crashing down.

     The day was rainy, wet, and downright unpleasant. Takeshi was crying because he had wanted to go to the beach, and the rain was preventing that. Duo, who was trying to calm the screaming child, by telling him a story.

    "Honey, shhhh. Please. We can't help the rain.....but I promise if you calm down, and let me tell you a tale, that we will go tomorrow. Okay?"

    Still crying but not yelling anymore, Takeshi sniffled. "B-but I w-w-wanna go toda-ay!"

  "Hush, I know baby, but we can't. If we did it wouldn't be any fun. Now will you let me tell you a story?"

      "Fine," he sniveled up at the braided man.

   "Okay. Now, where to begin," he said, while repositioning himself so that Takeshi was cradled next to him, while Duo himself was laying on the couch. "Once upon a time, in a world just like this, there were five young boys. Now these boys had never met, but all had something in common. They were all Gundam pilo-"

   "Daddy!" said the little boy suddenly, "You and papa were gumbum pilots!"

   Duo nodded, "Yes honey, we were. Now shush and let me finish my story...These pilots were all under the age of twenty, yet they were all wise beyond their years. All had their own abilities and weaknesses, but that's not important right now. I'm going to tell you a story about the two pilots who fell in love."

   Looking down at his son, the man with bright blue eyes saw the boy smiling around his thumb, which was stuck in his mouth. " One on those boys was named Heero. He was a very quite boy, who tended to be not so nice towards people. Everyone thought he was in-human. Trained to be the 'perfect soldier', Heero was skilled in all that he did. He could crack practically any code or accomplish any mission. He seemed almost faultless. But you must remember....he was still human. And all humans have faults.

    "The other boy was named Duo. Duo was a more talkative person then Heero and also a tad more upbeat. Although he had had a hard live, having no parents and the closest to them dying when he was young, Duo seemed to value life. He was somewhat the optimist, seeming the total opposite of Heero. But they had more in common than most realized.

"It was in the last year of the war, although none knew that then. Both young men had secretly fallen in love with one another but dared not tell the other. Heero was confused with these emotions because he had been raised to be without all feelings, to only fight. While Duo was scared Heero would hate him. So both hide in their masks, miserable and afraid."

  The braided man looked down at his son. Takeshi was beginning to fall asleep. His small eyes drooping, and his shoulders slumping into his fathers side. His head was beginning to lean on Duo's shoulder. None the less the older man continued.

  "Well, one day, while they were not on a mission, they both found themselves caught in the rain. It seemed a simple enough thing, but neither felt like getting wet right then. So they ran under the nearest tree, trying to get as far underneath as they could, causing them to crush together. Duo's body heated by Heero's. His body leaning against the only person he loved. And for some reason he couldn't stop himself. He turned his head, looked straight into Heero's eyes. Something in his eyes compelled him to do what he did, like they knew what he might do, and wasn't afraid of it....or disgusted. So that day, under the tree, they had their first kiss. Finally, in the middle of a horrible time, happiness was found. And they knew they would be happy, for a long, long time......"

   Duo yawned. It had been a long day, especially with a screaming child to supervise. His small boy was now curled against him, so he wrapped his arm around the child's waist, slowly falling asleep.
 
 

   A few minutes later the man's spouse walked in the front door. Upon seeing the two on the couch, went to find a camera. Then leaning over, took a photo of the both of them, wrapped together in a sweet embrace; Duo's chin resting lightly on Takeshi's hair, his arm tucked under his son's waist, both relaxed and peaceful looking.  A moment in time burned into paper, captured for all eternity.
 
 

 Yes, Takeshi remembered. Such a wonderful day. The first time he heard the tale of his parents. Such a fairy tale it was, and now it seemed that's all it ever was. Just a fairy tale, nothing more. Doomed to end, in pain and suffering.

  As he got up, his tears now almost all gone, he picked up all that had scattered out of Heero's pockets, and placed them in his own. Finally he stood up, and walked off. And as he headed for his hotel, he mumbled to himself.

    "You can abandon us, never call, or contact us in anyway. Just like you completely forgot us...but you still carry a picture with you? Why? I guess I will never understand you....."
 

daddy gave me a name
my dad he gave me a name
then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
 
 

     Returning to the Hotel, Takeshi checked into his room, trying to avoid anyone's eyes. He didn't want to think. If he did he knew his mind would drift back to everything he had tried so very hard to forget. Something that he would rather had not been resurfaced.

     In utter silence, and with a mask of complete disinterest, he got on the elevator. As the lift went up to his floor, he stared blankly at the wall. 'Will not think. Will not think' became all that passed in his mind. He wanted to be numb. He needed to ignore. He couldn't do this right now.

     He stepped out of the lift silent and utterly void of emotion. He walked down the long hall. Every step he reminded himself not to relive the past. 'Just make it to the room'. He knew it would come. As soon as his body was able to collapse, he would finally let himself fall apart. Finally let himself remember. But not yet.

     Practically collapsing against his door, he began to shake. His hands shook from emotion as he opened his door. All calm he thought he had reacquired vanished. Quickly he rushed inside, not bothering to turn on the lights, and leaned against the door. Tears where once again falling down his cheeks. The pain was again assaulting his gut. He slide down the door, slowly falling into a sitting position, that left him hugging his knees.

  He really didn't want to think about it. He just wanted it all to have never happened. Why did his life have to be so bad? Wasn't he good enough for a pleasant one?! No, he wasn't good enough. No one would ever truly love him. His dad didn't, he was merely a responsibility. People would not love him, how could they? No, not a single person could love him, not even his own Father. Old thoughts attacked his brain, corroding his strength, making him weak.
 
 

father of mine
tell me where have you been
i just closed my eyes
and the world disappeared
 
 

      It was a warm night. Sticky and hot. Highly unpleasant. Very befitting of the events that occurred all because of one man's doubt and another's lack of understanding towards his emotions, and small arguments which grew worse over time...
 

     "Heero?! Your so late. Why didn't you call?" Duo asked, looking at his lover with a slight glare.

     Raising his voice only slightly, "What! Just because I was out working, while you stayed home, you have to snap at me?!"

   "But Heero-kun, couldn't you have called? I was worried."

  "Worried? I was only at work. I swear sometimes you as bad as Quatre use to be. Always concerned about the smallest things."

   Duo huffed indignantly, and walked into the kitchen. Passing, unaware, the small boy, who was huddled behind the countertop. He placed his arms on either side of the sink, leaning unto it slightly. After a moment he turned back to the taller man, standing near the table.

   He took a deep breath, think how he was going to word this. Heero had been unusually high strung as of late, and he didn't want to make him any worse. If only at that time did he know what this simple statement would lead to. "I, I'm sorry. I do worry. But can I ask you something, without you getting mad?"

   Heero only nodded. The braided man continued.

  "Well. It seems that lately you keep being late. And I do love you, and trust you. But I can't help but think.....think maybe. Well, that maybe you have found someone else."

   "What?!!" Heero spat. "Are you accusing me of potentially cheating on you!"

   Heero took a step towards the braided young man. He was upset. He felt so betrayed. How could his lover think this? But it only showed as anger. Anger he never could control.

  "H-hee-chan! I wou-"

    "How could you think that?!" His eyes were narrow slits, filled with emotion. "You think I would cheat on you! How could you think that? Why would it even have crossed your mind!? Don't you love me? Don't you think I love you? You think I would break that promise I made?"

     Heero, who still had trouble dealing with emotions, was fuming. The only release he ever knew was physical. Usually resorting in 'violence'. He needed to hit something. He had to release his anger, his aggravation, his doubt.

    So he turned and smashed his fist in the nearest object. The cabinet he hit crunched under his hand, the soft wood breaking under his fist. When he realized that hadn't really helped he turned and fled the house. Leaving behind a stunned man and a very confused, and scared, little boy.
 

father of mine
tell me how do you sleep
with the children you abandoned
and the wife i saw you beat
 

       It was late. The moon was barely visible behind the clouds that could be seen in the dark sky. It was quite, even the animals seeming to be asleep. Well, all was quiet except for the noise of a man stumbling through the driveway of his home.  With shaking hands, a combination of anger, tiredness, and far to many drinks, he slide his key into the door. Tripping on the way in he walked inside, forgetting to close the door behind him.   A slim form slipped out from the living room, clicking on the lights in the process, starling the drunken man.

  "WHAT?!" Hissed Heero, and he shaded his eyes from the light.

  "Hee-chan.......are you drunk?" Asked a slightly bemused Duo.

     This was not the right thing to say. Heero's confused state of mind and current state of sobriety, or lack of, didn't want to seem controlled by Duo at that moment. He was angry. And hurt. But all he knew to show at the moment was his anger. And all the alcohol in his system heightened this.

      "Leave me alone you arsehole." He shouted.

   "But, dea-" Duo was silenced by Heero's fist connecting with his jaw. His sentence ended in a scream of pain.

     Heero's mind screamed in protest at what he'd done. His lover leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, tears beginning to run down his face. Duo's tears only seemed to further offend Heero. The beer in his body, which he rarely had so it was effecting him strongly, making his better judgment seem ti disparate. He punched Duo again, screaming nonsense, babbling the hatred he felt at that moment. As he continued to hit his loved one he started to cry. Through his tears he never noticed a small, pj clad, form  walk into the dimly lit hall.

    Takeshi stood transfixed at the sight before him. His papa repeativly slapping or punching his daddy.  The long haired man crumpling on the floor now, hit hands weakly covering his head. The other, his face red from a bad mix of anger, physical exertion, and intoxication, slamming his foot into the crumpled forms rib. After his foot connected with his chest, and Duo let out a gasp, he sank down on the floor. Leaning against the wall he broke down. Sobbing in his arms, realization finally sinking in.

    Not long after Heero's head jerked up. He was staring straight into Takeshi's eyes. His blood-shot pupils filled with anger, regret, and something even the little boy recognized. Fear. Pure "what-have-i-done" fear. And as Takeshi took a step back from the intense gaze, Heero's face fell. Jumping up, he got to his feet. He rushed to the door, his mind screaming at him, telling him how he had hurt those he loved, scared his child, and how he would never be able to face them. He ran out, the door slamming, for the final time, behind him as he fled the house in which everything had taken place.
 

i will never be safe
i will never be sane
i will always be weird inside
i will always be lame
 
 

    Takeshi felt exhausted. It seemed like he had been sitting there forever. He felt heavy, and cold, and detached. He never wanted this. The memories. He had pushed them aside. He had put himself back together. He had lived past the nights of falling asleep with a hoarse throat. Of waking up to a soggy pillow. Of days when he would hurt so much, just by seeing a father and son doing something simple.

   He hurt far to much to move. He was to tired to even shift positions. So he leaned his head on his arms, still hugging himself. And as he nodded off, he found himself humming an old nursery rhyme.

//   Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all   //

    It had always seemed sick to him that a song about a baby falling from a tree, undoubtedly dying, should be song to small children. But now, it seemed to describe his emotions perfectly. If he analyzed the parts, as his brain had already done, it read him like a book. Like before he had been in the tree, high and happy, peacefully rocking back and forth. Then the winds could be compared to all the fights leading up to everything. How his father's marriage had been slowly, but very greatly, changing. How towards the end they had fought more frequently. Then the baby falls, crashing out of its peacefully tree top. Takeshi had seemed to fall. That's how it felt. Like his world had caved in under him. He had fallen, just like the nursery rhyme babe, to his inevitable death, crashing in the end and plummeting full force into the metaphorical ground.

   Those were the last thoughts as he fell asleep. Drifting into a dream land, trying once again to forget all his pain. Starting the journey that would take him years to repeat.
 

now i'm a grown man
with a child of my own
and i swear that i'm not going to let her know
all the pain i have known
 

Dear Father,

        I am unsure even now if I should write this to you with that heading. You have not been my father in over thirteen years.  I do think you gave that title up when you walked out on me and my real father. That is what he is to me. He took care of me. HE was everything a real father should be. Even when we were in the lowest parts of life, he always tried to make me happy. He always tried to show he loved me. I guess he felt like he had to make up for the love of both parents. . .
       Even now there is a place in my heart that still aches for you. I miss you. Yet I hate you.  I am still angry at you for walking past me that day. The day my world crashed, for the second time. I don't think you will ever understand how much pain that day caused. You could have changed everything, did you know that? With one gesture all would have been forgiven. If only you had done something....But that was me when I was fourteen. I lost those thoughts of forgiving you not long after that day on L2.
       I'm now twenty-six. I wonder if you know that. I wonder if you ever feel anything on my birthday, on christmas, on fathers day. On any day. Do you ever regret leaving? Did you ever think that you had made a horrible mistake? Did you even love me, or my dad, after you left? If you didn't then why the picture?
       I still have that photo. The one you took of me curled in dad's arms. The one that fell from your coat when you ran away from me on the streets. Remember that one? Well guess what? You can have it. I'll send it with this letter....that is if I ever do send it. I've written countless letters, but I've never sent any. I don't think I'm ready, after all these years, to once again be ignored by you. I don't want that anymore then I ever have. Because your pain is the worst I have ever suffered.
        One of the reasons I wrote is to tell you that you  have a granddaughter. Sakura. You know, like the cherry blossom. Because that's what she seems to be. She came into this world, five years ago, all rosy, all beautiful. And I want her to always be happy. I swear on my life I will not let her suffer. I will show her I love her. I will NEVER  abandon her. Ever. I will not be like you.
 

~~then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name~~
 

      I asked before if you ever regretted walking out. I really would like to know. Yet I don't trust myself to deal with it if you say no. I find it so hard to believe that although you've become a stranger to me, you still hold the power to completely destroy me. Its so utterly and cruelly ironic. The man who named me, gave me a name which I always tried to fulfill, loved me for the years I can barely remember, then walked out on me......ironic that he could still have a place in my heart that could hurt so much.
    You will never know the full extent of pain you have inflicted on me. Its not describable. Its an all consuming pain that never leaves. An empty hunger, that begs to be filled... but is never satisfied. Yet words would only make it sound cheaper...less...then they are. That's the thing with emotions. You can never accurately describe them. The most eloquent words, that seem to describe feelings to the utmost detail...do not, when you are feeling them. When one experiences something, they then realize the words are not even close.
     I want to end this, I have duties as a father that I must do. Funny actually. I'm writing this to You before I go take my daughter to the beach. I'm glad I'm not totally like you. I really am. Because if I ever knew I caused someone the pain I have felt....I would choose to die. I couldn't live with knowing I was the fault of someone's pain. Especially pain this deep.
         So on a final note....goodbye. This IS the letter I will send. This is the last you shall ever hear from me. I am officially ending what has dragged me down for years. So...goodbye. And may you rot in hell for what you have done.
                                                                              Sincerely, with mild regards,
                                                                              Takeshi   Maxwell-Yuy
 
 

then he walked away
daddy gave me a name
then he walked away
my dad he gave me a name
 
 

       Getting up Takeshi folded the note into its mailing tube. He addressed the outside with the address he had located through work. Moments later a small little girl with long blonde hair, put into a braid by her grandfather, ran in.

      "Can we go now dada?"

  Smiling down at Sakura, "Yes. On the way we have to stop and mail something, okay?"

      The little girl only grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him outside. They walked to the corner chattering along the way. Both stopped at a blue and white mailbox. Takeshi took a deep breath. This was it. This was his way to end the pain, the suffering that truly would never end. Opening the lever he pushed the mailing tube in. It slide inside with a loud popping sound.

     "Daddy?" the tiny blonde said, looking up at the man. "You never finished the story about grandpapa's Koi. Tell me what happened.."

     Picking his daughter up, Takeshi gave a sad smile. He had not kept his past from his daughter. In fact he wanted her to know, so he wouldn't ever make the mistake of hurting her. He looked down at her, as she wrapped her arms about his neck.

        "Well, darling it's very simple. On the night he hurt grandpa he cried very much. And he noticed I had seen him. So he did the last thing, I think, he knew how to do. He got up. . .

               then he walked away"
 
 
 

~~Finis~~