Cerainly, it's already been a year.
There are a lot of fandoms with their author passed away, I wonder how they can keep on going. A fandom can eventually withered away when there's no more stories to tell, no more arts to enjoy, and people moving on.
The news still freshly imprinted in my memory like it was yesterday, none of us were expecting it. In this day and age, if no illness, a healthy man can live up to his senior years and should be passing peacefully on a bed surrounded by their family. Mr. Takahashi was 60, he was alone in the cold sea and discovered by the news 3 days later.
Whenever he died for his heroic acts, I still found it an incredible hard pill to swallow. Partly because I wonder if the US marine guy ever called for help for him, and if he didn't saw Mr. Takahashi dive into the waters, how can he retell the story later with him in it? Did his student saw? Why did nobody called to help him too? Did the US military forbidden them from talking? Was that how the news got delayed for 3 whole days?
It's frustrating when you can only sit at home, trying to assemble the puzzle pieces, tried to deny the possibilities, hoping it just a fake news, and so on.
Every day, every year, there's news of other deaths, and so it covered up the previous news, and just like that, Mr. Takahashi faded in obscurity.
Maybe I should be glad about such, it means that his death won't be the gossip talk for a long time, he can be in peace, but I couldn't. What was the correct course of actions, let his family grieve in silence, or should he be remembered by the world? Serenity or reminisce?
He never took a wife, a family, his loved ones are probably his parents and friends, who should not buried their own child, and his beloved Shiba, in which, I took a peek again at his old archived posts, saying the dog was getting old, too, and yet, in the end, he was the one who passed before his pet can know its owner will never greet it again.
Every year, in my hometown, instead of bright summer suns, we have rain, rain from April to early November. I find rain to be soothing, I like the sounds of it tapping on my windows, it's easier for me to be lost in my thoughts, for me to dream about hope, passing by memoirs of childhood innocence, a childhood in which Mr. Takahashi had built for his fans, for me.
After a year, I think I will be too, at peace now. What I should try, is to enjoy myself, paint with my own hands, keep on going instead of waiting out on others, expect them to take actions, expect someone else to take the spotlight and fanning the fire. I think I've been a back seat for too long already, I should learn to take the wheel, too.
