In the morning, Temoshí stood on the carpet, his gaze fixed on the white flower preserved behind the glassed cabinet. The sunlight danced off its delicate petals, intensifying his curiosity.
His sister entered the room, dressed in a black tank top and holding a glass of milk. "Up early? You usually sleep much longer," she remarked casually, stepping up behind Temoshí and glancing at the flower.
Turning to face her, Temoshí frowned thoughtfully. "You always warn me not to touch the flower, that it could be dangerous. But honestly, it just looks like an ordinary white flower to me. What's so special about it?"
Sipping her milk, his sister revealed a tattoo of a flower on her left shoulder. "Touching that flower could harm you," she explained gently. "It's locked away for a reason. Even its scent can be harmful. That's why I insist you keep your distance from it."
Temoshí remained fixated on the flower, pondering his sister's warning as she headed towards the kitchen. His curiosity gnawed at him, and despite her caution, he couldn't shake the desire to investigate further.
As his sister brewed her coffee and prepared breakfast, she multitasked with a practiced ease. "I've made your usual cereal for now. I'll whip up something more substantial later," she informed him, her tone gentle yet firm. "And I'll prepare something for Chiaki too. In the meantime, please make sure you finish your chores, okay?"
Temoshí nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts still drifting back to the flower. He knew his sister had forbidden him from touching it, but the temptation lingered like a whisper in the back of his mind.
As Temoshí diligently tackled his chores, ensuring everything was done promptly, his sister busied herself preparing gifts for Chiaki. She meticulously wrapped them, her mind focused on making the visit special for her younger sibling.
Once Temoshí finished his tasks, he found himself seated on the sofa, idly twirling the house keys in his fingers. His sister entered the living room, noticing the keys and smiling gratefully. "There they are," she remarked, approaching him with appreciation. Temoshí looked up, slightly bewildered.
"I thought I might have to climb through the window to get to Chiaki," she joked, though he didn't seem impressed.
Standing up, Temoshí tossed her the keys with a nonchalant gesture. "Sorry, got a bit bored. By the way, it's raining out there. Don't forget to take an umbrella," he advised, glancing at the window where raindrops pattered against the glass.
His sister chuckled, acknowledging his unexpected concern. "Look at you becoming a top-notch weatherman. Thanks for the reminder." She slid the keys into her back pocket and retrieved an umbrella from the closet.
"Remember, it's almost bedtime. Make sure you're asleep before I get back," she reminded him, teasingly adding, "And wish me luck not to come home soaking wet."
Temoshí nodded in acknowledgment, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched her prepare to leave. He knew he could count on her return, but the allure of the forbidden flower still lingered in his thoughts, tempting him with its mysteries.
As his sister hurried towards the door, ready to step out into the stormy weather, she called back to Temoshí, "Don't forget to water the plants before you go to sleep!"
Temoshí waved goodbye as she unlocked the door and disappeared into the rain. He watched until the door closed behind her, then turned his attention to the task at hand—watering the plants around the house.
However, a mischievous idea sparked in Temoshí's mind. "The keys should be in her bedroom's end table," he thought, a sly grin forming on his face. "She said to water all the flowers in the house. That must include..." Without further hesitation, Temoshí darted into his sister's bedroom, swiftly retrieving the keys from the end table.
With the keys in hand, Temoshí dashed towards the glassed cabinet where the mysterious white flower was carefully kept. His heart raced with anticipation as he unlocked the cabinet, the curiosity about the flower overpowering any lingering doubts or warnings he had heard.
As Temoshí cautiously touched the flower, expecting some sort of reaction, he was surprised to find that nothing happened. No burn, no reaction at all. His initial fear turned into disbelief and then conviction.
"Huh? It didn't do anything to me... She must have been lying," he muttered to himself, emboldened by the lack of any harmful effect. Quickly, he grabbed the flower with both hands, marveling at its pristine beauty. The petals were as white as snow, shimmering like stars in the night sky.
"It's so beautiful... and not dangerous at all! Maybe she just didn't want me to accidentally damage it," Temoshí reasoned, a smile spreading across his face. Feeling mischievous, he decided to run around with the flower in his hands, reveling in the freedom of holding something forbidden.
"She must really love this flower to keep it locked away," he mused aloud, his curiosity piqued. "I wonder how it managed to stay so perfect for so long."
Unaware of the consequences of his actions, Temoshí continued to admire and explore the flower.
As Temoshí stood mesmerized by the beauty of his sister's flower, he was caught off guard by a sudden thunderclap that reverberated through the storm outside. Startled and gripped by fear, he instinctively jumped, unleashing orange flames from his hands in a panicked reaction. The flames enveloped the delicate flower he held.
"Oh no! This thunderstorm is crazy. I hope my sister stays safe," Temoshí muttered anxiously, trying to maintain composure despite his escalating worry. Swallowing nervously, he attempted to calm himself down.
But as he looked down at the flower in his hands, his heart sank. Horror swept over him as he realized the extent of the disaster. His eyes widened in shock, his body frozen in place as sweat trickled down his forehead.
"The... the flower..." he stammered, his voice barely audible. "It's... it's ash..."
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. In his moment of fear and surprise, Temoshí had inadvertently set the beautiful flower ablaze, reducing it to nothing but ash. The weight of his actions crashed down on him, filled with regret and dread over what his sister would say or do upon discovering the damage.
But amidst his turmoil, he recalled his sister's warnings. "Touching that flower could harm you. It's locked away for a reason. Even its scent can be harmful. That's why I insist you keep your distance from it."
Temoshí now understood the gravity of her words. His recklessness had not only destroyed something precious to his sister but had also potentially put himself in danger. Trembling with remorse, he knew he would have to face the consequences of his actions.
In the stillness outside Chiaki's home, a serene moment shattered abruptly. Temoshí's sister, usually radiant with joy, stood frozen in place, the smile draining from her face. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, seemed transfixed on an unseen terror. The gift-filled bag slipped from her grasp, spilling its contents as the gentle rain escalated into a torrential downpour, mirroring the tempest brewing within Chiaki's residence.
A heavy silence hung over them, broken only by the harsh thud of the sister's body hitting the unyielding ground, mere feet from their doorstep. Time seemed to grind to a halt, leaving Chiaki and her babysitter rooted in shock and disbelief.
In that heart-rending moment, life slipped away from his sister. Her once vibrant heart ceased its beat, leaving behind a chilling void. The warmth fled from her body, replaced by an icy stillness that seeped into her very core. Blood ceased to flow through her veins, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest stilled, leaving only an unbearable emptiness in its wake.
Then, almost cruelly, tulip, the tattoo on his sister's shoulder—a symbol of shared memories—faded away, as if erased by the relentless hand of fate.
The sound of Temoshí sister's collapse reverberated through the house, jolting Chiaki from her numbness into a harsh, suffocating reality. Her cry tore through the air, a desperate blend of fear, sorrow, and disbelief.
"Tomomi!" Chiaki's voice cracked with anguish, the weight of loss bearing down on her fragile frame. Her world had shifted irreversibly in an instant, leaving her grappling with the unfathomable truth of losing someone so cherished to inexplicable forces.
These memories, guarded secrets that Temoshí never dared to reveal, evoked a torrent of tears as he confronted the haunting truth embedded within his very name.
Enshrouded in darkness, nestled beneath the vast expanse of a pitch-black sky, he lay still, tears tracing silent paths down his cheeks, each drop a testament to the weight of his sorrow.
"If only I had heard her warning, resisted the temptation to touch that cursed flower... Perhaps then, she would still walk among the living, and I wouldn't bear the burden of safeguarding these memories from prying eyes."