Days of Gold Gone By: Ep.Eleven

Days of Gold Gone By: A Serial

Episode Eleven: Back from the Grave

Misaki returns in November. There is a big fuss; Mother wipes her eyes and Kaho won’t let him go as he tries to pry her fingers into the cloth of his uniform shirt. I just hold my ground and stare at the scene before me. He is a ghost, not long left the dead, and they are a group of fussing strangers.

Misaki looks just like he did in the photograph except for the smile. The photograph does not capture the fact that his teeth never disappear. I watch those grinning teeth float amidst our family with contempt. He is their hero.

He greets me the last. He pats the side of my arm firmly, giving me a half sideways smile. I hold my gaze flat; he is approximately the same height as me.

“Stay safe little brother.” He says in a tone far too cheery for the occasion, “I do it all for you.”

I decide I am going to keep my tone and words very formal and unfamiliar out of an immature whim to make him know how uncomfortable I want this to be. He is trying too hard to make the situation easy and sweet. I laugh in my head at the words I have planned; I think I am funny.

I bow in the common form of a greeting, “You are Kozuki Misaki correct? I have heard much about you and your fate.” I lift my head with a fake curve of the lips. Misaki’s face briefly creases to the point where it seems like he is about to let out tears, before smoothing over as quickly as it appeared.

“The injury has really taken a toll on you? It’s a shame it traumatized you so much to the point of memory loss.” He sighs. I once again smile gently, but in my heart it is sly. Let him think whatever he likes.

“I am Kozuki Akira. Please take care of me,” I continue my introduction. My words do not seem to affect him any more than they already have. I stiffen as he attempts to hug me.

“I won’t, Akira,” his voice is warm, “and watch over Hikari for me... and stay away from certain people who are bad for you.” At these words I immediately think about June. If the connotations bring his face to my mind then perhaps they are true, but I associate it more with what June had said during the funeral. If only Misaki knew. I instantly feel horrible for my stupid behaviour in the past few minutes. I don’t even understand what had come across myself to try and cause this older brother such misfortune. He will never see me again. I almost bite my tongue trying to get the words out quickly enough.

“Don’t die...” I stand in silence and let the people drain away from me and back into the house. I feel like a stone stuck in the sand with the tide washing away from beneath me, slowly seeping back into the mass of the ocean, leaving me so alone and oblivious.

~

Life in general is so different with Misaki around. The atmosphere of the family has entirely lifted; with the exception of me- I am sinking. I notice that June has become notably less present in my life. He no longer visits my house nor so actively takes me over to his. I am lucky to see him once in a week following an argument that had occurred between him and myself regarding the English classes. I had decided that I no longer wanted to learn. I did not need to know what the enemy’s words were to know that they were the enemy. June doesn’t seem too objecting, he just lets of a few sighs and tell me how I never showed up anyway, before trying to guilt me into it with promises I made in the future.

As October waxes and wanes these events suddenly change. My family seems to bar me off from the outside world. I never seem to be the one to drop the groceries by the shops, or help out with the work at the hospital anymore. I know I could easily just leave, but something personal about the whole endeavour makes me trust in my own families wishes. I find that I start to see June at my own house everyday. He makes an effort to avoid Misaki, and when they meet in an inevitable encounter, a war of eyes ensure. However in my case, I haven’t received many words, only pitied stares.

~

I have barely woken up to the evening when June barges into my room. The sun is barely setting over the horizon. I have slept in; usually when I wake up it is already dark. I sit myself up from where I had been so blissfully sleeping, and groan at the glaring light.

“Fine. Go to sleep. Go and escape into your carefree dreams, but I’m letting you know, this is not the last you’ll hear of this!” Junes voice carries more than harshly into my morning ears.

Yes it is, June. I think. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned whatever you are about to say before, he must have forgotten. I yawn and lazily stand up, rubbing my eyes and preparing for a lecture. June paces the room, fretting. His hands fidget urgently together and he mutters softly to himself.

“It is just plain impossible!” He yells, finally becoming audible.

“Even given the circumstance, it just can’t happen. What is it? Some sort of....” June suddenly lunches at me in a strange sort of backward manner. He grabs a hold of the bottom of my shirt and wrenches it up.

“Hey, get off me!” I snap. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” June doesn’t respond but instead keeps on muttering words of impossibility under his breath. He has starts to rub the skin of my stomach so desperately it is as if he is searching for something.

“June...” I try to protest, my forehead falling into my palm. I rub my nose, he is so frustrating.

“A form of a mutation! A holy magic or miracle? It’s not humanly possible. Its not possible in nature!” He seems to fanatic I reluctantly let him scour over my abdomen and back. He circles me like he has just made a bewildered discovery.

“It was right here. It was life threatening. You should have been dead. It’s gone; not even a scar.”

“Hold up...” I say, “What are you talking about?”

“Your injury! it was stitched but it kept getting worse by the day. No-one could figure it out. Where has it gone? Even in the time you have been gone it would have been impossible to heal.” His eyes widen as he stares more intensely before exclaiming out an English profanity.

“Calm down.” I say after he finally lowers my shirt. “There is nothing to see.” He becomes more docile, his manner of amazement vanishes. Instead he seems drained, slumping his body forward and using my shoulder to support his head. He breathes slowly and heavily.

“I thought that you were gone for good...” He says. The voice does not sound like June to the degree that is scares me. There is a trapped child emerging from between his teeth. It pleads and grips onto me tightly. I pat its back roughly and then a little more consoling. June picks me up by the shoulders for a moment, drawing closer before leaping away, halfway across the room, and vanishing into the house. The movement was so sudden I am baffled. I understand that he had been in some sort of hurry and although he could sometimes act child-like he had never been so jumpy before.

“Akira! June is here to see you!” I hear a familiar female voice calling out to me. I feel detached from the sound, plagued by the mysteries surrounding me. I touch my own stomach expecting to feel something drastic, but there is nothing. Fully awake I stare at the floor, at my hands, and around the room. A suitcase has appeared. It is small and hanging open and empty. I step backward, leaning onto the furniture behind me. There is a tanto and a set of colours laying across my desk. I lift the blade. It is heavier than expected. I unsheathe it and touch along its invisible edge. It leaves a thin red line along my fingers in its wake. I place it back down and focus again at the desk. I inhale sharply as my eyes register what exactly they are seeing. The hanging ghost has escaped from the closet and lazes across the back of the chair; slumped although it owns the room and everything in it, including me. I touch the fabric, it is still the same as I remember it, rough and cotton. Warm.

.

I am not sure how, but I eventually find myself being cradled in my mothers arms. She is sobbing furiously but it does not seem like a cry of pain but rather happiness. June departed our house several hours ago leaving the whole family alone in an uncomfortable atmosphere. Misaki and Kaho stand by the doorway politely, staring at us. I let my mother grovel all over me while I stare Misaki down. The left side of his face seems rather red, a sharp indent curves under his eye. He speaks a single sentence. “It can’t be helped.”

Kaho gasps briefly. “But you hate the war.’ She says, “you swore you would never be involved. You lasted all this time.”

“I told them they could have me; that I’ll fight.” Misaki says, “In exchange they never contact Akira again.” His words are bold and direct. Mother, Kaho and myself watch him as he leaves to the front of the house. The woman who holds me has stopped cooing and whimpering and sits in silence. I hear yelling coming from the front of the house- Misakis voice. I stand up and pull myself out of Mothers hold and hurry over to see the commotion. Kaho follows me but veers off to the bedrooms instead of the front door.

There stands Misaki, facing two very prestigiously and uniquely uniformed men. One of them towers over both my brother and the other, looking extremely intimidating. He suddenly thrusts the barrel of his gun into Misakis face just before Misaki attempts a lunge at him. I edge forward slowly and make eye contact with the older and shorter of the two. He watches me patiently, waiting until I arrive beside Misaki at the door. He lifts a series of cards much like the cues of a speech, and begins to read them aloud to me.

“Kozuki Akira. Please listen to us very carefully. While I speak may I request you ignore everything that your family is saying at this point in time, as they will sound illogical to your own stream of time.” His words sound hesitant and forced but I nod at him. There is no harm in just giving him a little time. Misaki has his arm around me and is still snapping at the men, in a much lower tone. My mother stands behind me, weeping. I concentrate hard to try and listen to the man with the speech cards.

“We know about how you live.” He continues. “We know that you experience time backward and thus are living into this past. This is correct.” I stutter out a reply confirming his statements even though it was not really a question. He looks at me satisfied.

“May I request that you step outside beside us so we can speak more directly to one another.” I don’t hesitate and do as he asks and step out of Misakis protective hold and onto the step. Kaho appears and places the suitcase I had spotted in my room, tightly packed near my feet. The huge and intimidating man picks it up in his right hand and picks my wrist in his left.

“We are from an important military organization who play an important role in the outcome of the war. In our past you have been working along side us a notable hero, contributing greatly to us and the course of our rescues. For your family it is as if we are returning you, but for you we are here to collect you.” I stand, jaw-gaping, staring at the man’s sparkling eyes. These people knew. How I lived, how time moved around me. And here they were, offering me the opportunity I had been dreaming about.

“What do you say...Akira?” The man addresses me in a more friendly manner. “Will you co-operate and join us?”

“Yes.” I say, the words spilling faster than I can even think.