Harakiri -(Short Story)-

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It clinked but not a bell, sounded more like scrap metal. What is that? He moved his wrists, feeling heavy as if someone was holding them back, so even when he started moving his feet. What is wrong?

Hesitating, he opened his eyes.

He was lying, on a divan. The first visual is weathered asbestos tile, with tile dirt dangling here and there, then switching to a jumble of items around the room. Not a single air vent. Where is this?

He tried combing around, in vain. His head was completely immovable. Two pieces of plywood are placed longitudinally between the head. He tried to get up, but there was only the sound of scraping iron. Iron?

He glanced down. His eyes were rounded, so he knew that his body was shackled by iron chains. What happened?

"Please!!!" He then shouted, immediately moved his body, trying to make a scene.. Over and over.

You could hear the squeak of the door being pushed, “Hana? Are you awake? "

He bit his lip. That voice! “Akira! What are you doing? Quickly open my shackles! "

The man called Akira appeared from above his lying head. "Why should I let you go, honey? The show hasn't fully started yet, ”Akira lifted the couch where she lay, leaning her against the wall in a vertical position.

"You are crazy! Awake Akira! Quickly let me go! " He shouted as hard as he could while enduring the pain as his position hanging on the sofa was very unfavorable, coupled with the rusty iron chains that cut into his smooth skin.

Akira grinned. Hana, the woman he has entrusted as the first cherry blossoms of spring is helpless in the snare of his masterpiece. There is a certain satisfaction to see the woman he loves so much struggle amidst helplessness.

"Hana, I love you".

Hana squinted, streaked with hatred on her face.

Akira smiled. Undaunted, he walked over to the woman, a piece of cloth and tape clasped in his hand.


A hill in Kobe, Japan, March 2013

The morning sun shone golden against the hundreds of pine trees that lay like living rugs. The voices of birds chirping were heard, so clear and clear, accompanied by the rustle of the wind which carried the scent of wet grass and pine.

Akira glanced at the woman sitting innocently next to him. The sun's rays this morning were so fitting to shine on the curves of that woman's figure. Her fine wavy hair and the color of withered flowers looked golden due to the touch of her olive skin. Her sad eyes are perfectly shadowed with curvy lashes and thick eyebrows. And, her lips are ripe like a rose crack that is tempting to pick. Hana, from a name that means flower, she is definitely the first Sakura of spring for Akira.

"This beautiful view will be in vain if all you have seen is me," said Hana shyly.

Akira smiled, "You are more beautiful."

He lowered his head. "You think Akira-San, can the Senpai family be willing to accept Hana?" He asked carefully, “Hana is just a poor student with a scholarship. Besides, we have different cultural backgrounds. I'm worried if, - "

Akira gently lifted Hana's face, "Everything will be fine," he said soothingly.

Hana smiled.

Akira kissed Hana's forehead, "I love you."


Tokyo, Japan, April 2013

"Ottou-San doesn't want to consider Hana a little?"

Tomoyuki slightly raised the newspaper in hand, glanced at his son, "For what?"

Akira looked embarrassed at Tomoyuki, "Ottou-San met Hana only once, just because she is not Japanese and comes from a poor family, doesn't mean she's bad!"

Tomoyuki did not flinch, ignoring his son's babbling.

Akira bit her lip. "Why is it difficult for Ottou-San to bless us?" He asked half frustrated.

Tomoyuki put the newspaper on the table, since the beginning of the conversation he couldn't concentrate on enjoying his reading. “You think, why did I divorce your Okaasan? He's a fraud! In his head there is only money, money, money! You think that doesn't apply to your Hana? Don't be naive Akira! "He took a deep breath, trying to control the sudden emotion." You're the only son of Ottou-San. I just don't want you to repeat the same mistakes. "

Akira groaned in frustration, "Kanojo Mushi Dewa Ikite Ikenai!"

"You choose him, ikaku omaewa heya kara." Tomoyuki immediately left while parting the hondou roughly without seeing Akira who was stunned and felt defeated.

Hesitating, Akira reached into his cell phone from his shirt pocket. Taking a deep breath he pressed the dial button on the only contact in the history of the phone.


One word from the owner of the voice that instantly broke his heart. He wavered, I don't know how many times.

Again he bit his lip. There was a glimmer of doubt in his mind, the two choices he had had consequences that were too bad to be true. After all, he was forced to choose!

"Hana, Aishiteruyo ..."


Funeral home, Tokyo, Japan, August 2013

Akira stared at the cremation urn at the crematorium in front of him silently. It was difficult for him to accept the fact that the engraved kanji on the surface of the jar belonged to Tomoyuki, his father. Four months after he decided to leave the house, Miyuki, who in fact was the secretary and family assistant, came to his house in Hokkaido and reported that his father's hepatitis had recurred. He was asked to return. That was the implied message that Miyuki passed on to him.

Unfortunately, he could not fulfill his father's last wish. It wasn't that he didn't care or the hurt was holding him back. He just doesn't know how to return without having to let go. That is all.

Hana held her hand softly, strengthening it.

Akira smiled, acted strong, then kissed his forehead right in front of Tomoyuki Crematorium. Sorry Daddy, but I love him too much.


Hokkaido, April 2014

Akira glanced at the food that was served without appetite. Again he drank water from the glass in his hand. It's been past a week, but Hana hasn't changed the menu either. Ramen, without variations. Always that! He's Bored!

"More ramen?"

Hana did not flinch, instead approached Akira while handing over several bills attached. Akira sighed heavily. Just looking at the numbers in the appendix made her head dizzy. Hana again handed him an attachment.

"What is this?"

“Certificate of recruitment for agricultural technicians from Indonesia. They asked me to work there. Three months from now, I'm leaving ”.

Akira frowned, unable to digest the sudden information point. "What do you mean?" He was confused.

“I want to go home, Akira-San. More than that, I wish my life was better there ”.

Akira was flabbergasted, unable to believe the sentence had come out of the figure he had known to be tough all this time.

"You mean?"

"I'm tired, Akira. I used to think, the fate of my life will change with you. But after a year we are together, what happened? "Hana started to hysterical," I can't keep living like this stagnant. I want to break up!"

Akira sculpted. Hana's words were like a sledgehammer, sending her flying on the cliff of consciousness. It turns out that women's hearts are too dull for the establishment and welfare of the terms. Slaves of material servants. Money. At this point, he remembered his father. You won, Ottou-San!

He was silent, staring intently into the woman's eyes. In his mind hung a question. Hana, doesn't he love me?


Somewhere, June 2013

He walked over to the woman, a piece of cloth and tape clasped in his hand.

"I love you," he said roughly kissing his woman's lips. Not wasting the opportunity, Hana bit Akira's lip. He jumped, blood dripping from his lips.

Akira chuckled with amusement, "You're so presumptuous, dear," he said without hiding his irritation. He pulled a piece of cloth in his hand and covered Hana's mouth.

The fire in Hana's eyes ignited, staring at Akira fiercely.

As if he didn't care, Akira continued his action. He pulled Hana's eyelids up and plastered them. Hana struggled, but she couldn't do anything about it.

Akira smiled, "Enjoyed the show, honey?" Squinting, he studied Hana's body from top to bottom.

Hana looks pathetic. With her eyes forced to bulge, she was like a deformed mannequin stuck to a divan with its body wrapped in iron chains. In addition, two plywood boards clamped Hana's head, making her unable to fight anywhere.

"Do you know about harakiri, honey?" Akira took out a wakuzaki from his pants pocket, "Die of your own will for honor".

Hana swallowed hard. Horrified at the thought of what would happen afterward.

"I have sacrificed the honor of my family for you, the first Sakura of my spring," he said while drawing Wakuzaki. "I risked my pride but you didn't heed it".

Hana wanted to close her eyes, but the tears didn't stop flowing.

"I want you to be a witness to that sacrifice. The thing you won't forget as long as you live, ”Akira swung his wakuzaki, jabbed it right in the stomach,“ Aishiteruyo… ”He tore his stomach after finishing the final sentence.

Hana is hysterical. He wanted so badly to scream and take his eyes off Akira. Unfortunately, he was powerless. He must see everything. He must see Akira dying.

Akira twitched, blood spilled everywhere while his guts were dissolving. Akira died. Managed to maintain self-esteem with harakiri.

Akira left the woman he loved without ever telling their location, no one could find them.



"San: Call for an older man"

"Ottou-San: Father"

"Okaasan: Mother"

"Kanojo mushi Dewa Ikite Ikenai: I can't live without it"

"Ikaku omaewa heya kara: Then you have to go"

"Hondou: The door to a traditional Japanese house"

"Aishiteruyo: I love you"

"Wakuzaki: A type of short knife used by the Japanese to perform harakiri"

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Harakiri is like u kill yourself or a sacrifice, if i'm not mistaking it's also known as mercy killing?

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3 years ago