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   Chapter 58 No.58

A Change of Heart - Yaoi By Lady Lilium Characters: 5278

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:02


The bus screeched to a stop, its brakes hissing loudly as the doors opened.

Ken let the other people move ahead of him, paying for their ticket and taking a seat on the bus before following after them. He told the bus driver his destination, got a ticket, then sat nervously at the back, fiddling with the zip of his suitcase and gritting his teeth.

The bus set into motion and Ken bowed his head, waiting to arrive at his stop

What am I going to do when I get there? Just wait? What if he doesn't arrive? What if he's not there?

Ken pulled out the letter from his pocket again, reading it for the thousandth time.

Mustang… he thought with anguish to himself. Why did you leave me like this?

He straightened slightly, glancing to a young man sitting on the back seat of the bus on the opposite side.

'Excuse me.'

The man glanced around, pulling out his earphones and looking at him.

'Is there a place to stay in this town?' Ken asked him, 'like a bed and breakfast or something?'

'There's several hotels' the man offered. 'Where are you heading?'

Ken told him the route and which stop he would be getting off at.

'Once you get off' the man told him, 'keep following the main road, you'll see several sign posts for different hotels.'

'Thanks' Ken nodded.

The stranger smiled at him, turning away and putting the earphones back it.

Ken looked away, back out the window at the beautiful town they travelled through.

He felt sick.

Chapter Twenty Three

Ken got off quickly when the bus had reached his stop. The doors closed behind him and the bus drove away.

Ken glanced about him at the new environment, he wasn't familiar with any of it. He had never been to this town before, and it was all so strange and new to him.

Behind him the road was fairly quiet, and he saw on the post beside the bus stop, a sign pointing towards the cemetery. It was directly before him.

Ken drew a slow and steady breath, calmly his nerves. He stepped off the main path, heading down the narrower one towards the grassy hill, following a winding trail through an archway and between the trees. It seemed he was in some sort of park, a family was there, their children playing, groups of friends walking paths that branched off from the one Ken walked, several people walking their dogs.

Ken faced ahead again.

He walked for many minutes, passing a college through the carpark at the entrance before stepping onto grass again.

He paused, looking up.

He had reached it. Here he saw a traditional stone church, the entire building was shaped like a cross, and its stained glass set into t

he walls all around was beautiful.

There were many graves here, and the grounds were beautifully kept, the flowers before the stones fresh, the grass kept short, and the gravel path that led to the church was free from weeds.

As Ken passed through the iron gates that were held open, he saw a picnic table off to one side, upon its surface were pots of flowers, 'free to good homes' said the sign.

Ken passed this, pulling the suitcase with him along the gravel path was difficult, and so he left it under the picnic table, hidden from view. He continued on without it.

Ken glanced about him at the graves as he went, seeing the names upon them, the words of comfort carved into the stone. There was a child's grave here, little cherubs upon the small headstone, before which were some cuddly toys, damp and a little dirty from the last time it had rained.

And another grave, the grave of a woman it seemed who had died recently. The flowers were fresh, the picture of her young, perhaps the same age as Ken, maybe even younger.

'Too young' Ken mumbled sadly, '…too young…'

He faced ahead again, and continued walking.

It was a beautiful place, so silent, so still, so sad.

Ken wandered the stone path around the grounds, stepping off occasionally to look at some of the graves themselves. There was no one in the cemetery besides himself, and so he went back to his bag, sitting on the picnic bench beside the flowers, waiting.

He only saw one other person there that day, a young woman about his age. She brought flowers to a grave; white trumpet shaped flowers, and stayed for a time before leaving. Ken could see the tears in her eyes. She glanced at him only briefly, before her eyes dropped to the floor again. She did not speak to him.

And then everything became quiet again. Ken sat there alone. He breathed a heavy sigh, looking up to the sky.

The world was growing dark.

Ken sighed again, bowing his head.

He rose, walking out of the cemetery with his suitcase and back down the path he had come, reaching the main road again, and looking for a hotel to stay in.

I'll use the money Mustang gave me.

Chapter Twenty Four

Ken returned to the cemetery the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. For days he returned to this place, the grounds of the church, quiet and peaceful they were. He would leave to find a place to eat, but would always return. Hours every day Ken would spend here, just waiting, and watching.

He would at times wander between the graves simply looking at them, always glancing about him in case he saw a figure with fiery red hair.

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