It is the 28th of February 2025, a Friday. The feeling of regret is the worst feeling to ever exist. I couldn't remember a single decision i made wasn't full of regret in my entire life.
Hiroshi thought sitting beside the window of his room. The day was a gloomy, rainy day. Dark Clouds loom over the city, matching the weights in Hiroshi's heart. The rain poured relentlessly, tapping against the windowpane like an unending melody of sorrow.
His hands resting limply on his lap. The air around him was heavy, almost suffocating. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, staring blankly at the floor, at the ceiling. Hours, maybe? Or had it been the entire day? He doesn't know. All he knows is that he is a complete failure.
I'm Yamamoto Hiroshi, an average 18 year old boy living in Tokyo. Actually, I'm worse than an average boy. I didn't accomplish a single thing I that I or anyone could be proud of. My life was just passing same as a radar less ship. How did I end up like this?
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. It wasn't like he had ever been special. He was just… average. Always had been. An ordinary, introverted kid, blending into the background.
But at least back then, he had something. A routine. A life. A quiet world that still felt stable, even if it was unremarkable. He closed his eyes, letting the sound of the rain fill the silence.
A sudden gust of wind rattled the window, breaking his trance. His gaze shifted to the small desk in the corner of the room, where a dusty old photo album lay half-open.
The edges were worn, the colors slightly faded. His fingers twitched. Slowly, as if drawn by some invisible force, he reached for it.
The moment he flipped the page, the dimly lit room faded. The sound of rain was replaced by distant laughter.
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It was the 9th of August in 2006, a beautiful Wednesday. The sky was clear, clouds were like cotton candy floating in the clear blue sky.
The sharp cries of a newborn filled the sterile hospital room, breaking the tense silence. The air smelled of antiseptic, but for the two people in the room, all that mattered was the tiny life that had just entered the world.
"He's here…"
Yamamoto Haruko's voice was weak, but the warmth in her tone was unmistakable. Exhausted yet relieved, she turned her head to the side, catching a glimpse of her newborn baby wrapped in a soft blue blanket.
Beside her, her husband Yamamoto Hiroki stood frozen, his eyes locked on the newborn. He had imagined this moment a hundred times, but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over him.
The nurse gently placed the baby in Haruko's arms. Tiny fingers clenched the fabric of her hospital gown, as if already seeking comfort in his mother's presence.
"He's so small…" Haruko whispered, brushing a trembling finger against the baby's cheek.
Hiroki let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He leaned in closer, his large hands awkwardly resting near his son's head.
"I've already decided his name" Hiroki said with a playful smirk on his face. "I know that dear. I remember you buying and researching a bunch of books about names for babies" Haruko chuckles.
A soft smile appears on Hiroki's face, a smile of relieve. "Hiroshi," he murmured. "It is a beautiful name dear" Haruko said closing her eyes in happiness. "Our Hiroshi."