It wasn't long before Higara's mind was back in the Modern World, on his Mother's front porch. The house was a small one, and there was only enough room on the porch to sit on the steps. Of course, he didn't mind this. He was too busy watching his mother.
Her name was Garasu Raito, he recalled, when he had to tag along with her to a meeting, where she had given out her first and last name. Garasu, meant glass- which was pretty fitting -and Raito meant light, courtesy of his Father marrying Garasu.
Garasu was currently standing in their front yard, using her special Glass Weaving powers, to create a ball of Molten Glass in between her hands. Almost immediately Higara could feel the heat from where he was sitting, and he began to squirm. He knew that if he got too close, and if he didn't have the proper equipment, he'd burn up.
Of course, Garasu seemed fine, as she compresses it between her fingers, which she had made in a circular fashion- a hand gesture that usually means "Ok!" -and she began to blow the Molten Glass out like a bubble. It was satisfying to watch, as it grew slowly in size.
Higara's eyes lit up with excitement and wonder, as to what she could be making.
After she had blown it up no bigger than a volley ball, she held the ball of glass in her hands and began to shape one side of it, with an ease that almost made the Molten Glass appear to have the same consistency as clay. She had formed that side into the opening of a vase, and afterwards, the glass cooled instantly on the spot.
Garasu gave a small smile at her fine craftsmanship. It had been made just the way she wanted it.
"I'm sure Akuri will love this..." she said absentmindedly, as she had cradled the newly made vase.
Higara hopped off the steps of the front porch, and dashed over to her, a wide grin on his face.
"Wow!" he exclaimed brightly. "It looks awesome!!"
Garasu turned towards Higara, her small smile growing wider.
"I'm glad you like it," she said, bending down to his level- she was a six foot tall, slender woman, while Higara at his age had only been barely at 5'2 -as she held the vase out to him.
"Why dont you take this, and fill it with some flowers?" She asked, tilting her head a bit.
Higara remembered getting a sly grin on his face, shortly after she had said that.
"Is it a present for Dad?" he remembered asking, and all his mother did at first was ruffle his hair roughly. He laughed, as this triggered his static. Electricity sparked off his hair, making small popping sounds, almost like popcorn.
Garasu laughed with him, shortly afterward removing her hand, before she got shocked.
"Yes," she said with a smile. "its a gift for your father for when he gets home. So, would you mind helping me make his gift by filling that up with flowers?"
She didn't need to ask him twice. Higara took the vase from her grasps and zipped away, becoming a blur of motion, electricity left in his wake.
Garasu blinked, and glanced behind her towards the Garden. Higara had just stopped running, and he stood in front of the Garden, catching his breath. His body was sparking all over, as he was currently charged with electricity.
"Looks like you're getting faster!" she called out to him, as she jogged over. By the time she had arrived, the electricity had faded from Higara's body.
He nodded. "I've been practicing!" He grinned, still a bit out of breath.
"I can see that," Garasu said, smiling as she bent down and kissed his forehead. "Now, which flowers do you think your Dad'll like?"
Higara had turned towards the Garden. Back then, he recalled there being many colorful flowers. He didn't know the names of any of them, but they were all still very beautiful.
But the ones that had caught his eye back then, were these blue puffball looking flowers that grew off of a small shrub. He picked a hand full of them off the bush, and carefully placed them inside the vase.
"There we go!" He turned to his mother, holding up the vase. He stopped, however, when he saw the surprised look on her face.
"Whats wrong?" He had asked, tilting his head.
Garasu blinked, shaking her head.
"Its nothing," she said, smiling. "I'm just surprised that you picked out my favorite flowers."
Higara blinked, looking down at the vase. He hadn't had any idea how these small things could be his mother's favorite. They were very pretty, sure, but how could they be someone's favorite? He had once thought.
"But how could such tiny flowers be your favorite?" He had echoed his thoughts, looking back up at his mother.
Garasu chuckled, and after a moment she lowered down to the grass and sat on her knees. Higara followed suit.
"Well," she said, thinking of the best way to tell the story. "they were present when I had met your father."
He blinked. "Really?" Higara asked, his eyes lighting up with the excitement that there may be a story.
"I had met your father during a very difficult time in my life, you see," she said, staring at the vase. "I was completely alone, and I must've been about your sister's age at that time. No family, not many friends. Just me, and my glass weaving." She formed a tiny ball of glass, and held it between her fingers. Since it was small, the intense heat that came and went quickly didn't effect Higara too much.
"It was the only way I could figure out how to make money. I made some here and there, but there would always be someone who ran through and shattered my precious masterpieces. Works of art that I had poured my heart and soul into..." she sighed.
"The only reason why they shattered in the first place was because at the time, my heart and soul didn't have a lot to give. I couldn't make the vases or the sculptures strong. They were fragile, like I was."
Higara stared. He had never seen his mother look this solemn before.
"One night, I just couldn't take it anymore, you know? I had a plan. A plan to fix it all." She looked down at her arms. There were tiny white cuts all over them, and they gleamed in the sunlight.
"A permanent solution. But thats when I met your father." Her face lit up a bit, as she looked back up at Higara. He perked up.
"He literally came in like a blinding light- always with the dramatic entrances -and had asked me what was wrong. When I had explained it-"
"-I helped you strengthen your heart and soul, until your works of art became unbreakable."
Garasu and Higara jumped, and they rose to their feet. When Garasu turned, she saw Akuri standing right there, a smile on his face.
"And thats when you fell in love with me, wasn't it?" He asked, a playful smile on his face.
Garasu laughed, as she threw her arms around his neck. She was only a foot taller than him, so the gesture didn't seem too off.
"Of course I did," she said, smiling. "you were too good to resist."
Akuri laughed at that, as he hugged her. Higara watched the two of them, smiling at the sight. He wanted something like that, when he got older. He wanted something to love like that. (He laughed, as he realized that, in present time, he has something like that now.)
Garasu pulled back, and turned to Higara. "When I first met him, I was kneeling in front of a small cluster of Hydrangea. They were wilting, until your father shined his light upon them when he made his entrance. It was like something from a fairy tale." She glanced back at Akuri, smiling.
"Thats so cool!" He said, grinning. Just then, he remembered the vase he held in his hands. "Oh, right! Dad, here you go!"
He walked over to his father, holding out the vase, when suddenly, the vase shattered.
A metal rod had shot through it.
The rest was blocked out from his memory, as the impact had made him hit the ground hard. That, or maybe his mind refused to see the images of his mother and father, trying their best to fight up against her- that Okina, before they had been cut down.
It didn't matter, because he had awoken soon inside of that power plant. Metal cuffs were attached to both his hands and feet, and the metal chains were pulled tight, to where his body was spread apart like an "X". He was just hanging there, in mid air.
He remembered his body aching from hanging there for so long. Each chain was connected to a huge generator. He had only realized this, however, when they started forcing his body into overcharge, so his plasma could be drained from his body and stored. He screamed each time, and always screamed after, as he wanted to go back home. He wanted the pain to stop.
Not even a worker heard his pleas.