Chapter Text
JUNE 21st, 2009. 12:22 P.M.
The sun beaming down seemed like a betrayal of trust.
Like some sort of sick joke told too soon after the fact.
The sounds of cicadas screaming overhead nearly drowned out anything and everything in a too-easily-won contest.
It was the longest day of the year, sunrays blazing down, causing black suits to burn to the touch and little foreheads to sweat.
Within wrought iron fences on the outskirts of town, at the top of low rolling hills filled with granite and marble, stood three brothers and their grandfather.
The elder among them would dab droplets of sweat from his furrowed brow as they fell in tandem with fat globs of tears rolling down children’s cheeks, still full with baby fat.
The eldest of the brothers stands stock still— as much as he could, anyhow —while gripping his hands into fists at his sides. Tears threatened to roll down his cheeks, over a horizontal scar stretching across the bridge of his nose in the center of his face. He kept his lips in a tight, unwavering line as he steadied his breathing, glowering at the freshly dug graves before him, one newer than the next.
The two youngest boys, twins, stand uncomfortably in the heat, clutching each other's hands tightly. One of them is huffing and puffing his breaths, attempting to steady himself. His eyes are puffy and cheeks tearstained, cried out. He’s squinting with too-big golden eyes in the sunlight, straining as they ache. He turns, and golden orbs are met with identical ones, and he realizes his twin is still sobbing. He realizes he hadn’t run out of tears to shed after all.
The sobbing is quiet and grief ridden, subdued in an attempt to be respectful, but wretched all the same. Tears roll down his cheeks past angular birthmarks gracing his cheekbones, the only distinguishing mark between them. He clutches at his chest, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt in a desperate attempt for reprieve from the summer heat.
Their grips on each other’s hands tighten, one turning and looking to their older brother in urgency.
At this, the teen crumples, falling to his knees as he envelopes his baby brothers in a hug they were already rushing towards. Their grandfather steps closer, firmly grasping the eldest shoulder in commiseration.
A forlorn gaze meets headstones…
ITADORI KAORI
LOVING MOTHER, WIFE,
AND DAUGHTER
25 MAY 1978 – 12 MAY 2009
ITADORI JIN
LOVING FATHER, HUSBAND,
AND SON
1 SEPTEMBER 1977 — 16 JUNE 2009
***
JUNE 21st, 2009. 9:43 P.M.
The summer night air was humid, pregnant with the smell of rain as dark clouds blended into the inky night sky, hiding the stars from view. The faint redolence of copper and disinfectant permeated it as an antiseptic wipe was used to dab gently at a swollen, gashed lip and where blood had dried beneath his nostril.
Bright, flashing lights glared in discordant colors of reds, whites, and blues against the faded, peeling paneling of a small house, casting distorted shadows and shapes across his vision. The figures of unfamiliar adults moved in hurried steps in and out of the structure, expertly maneuvering around him where he sat on the brick steps in front of it, stubby fingers digging into them.
A woman sat next to him, dressed in white and black, tending to him. A red bag sat at their feet where a man stood in front of him, clothed in a long, brown trench coat and holding something rectangular in his hand.
Their voices came to his ears distantly, muffled and warped. The woman was trying to comfort him, he was fairly certain of that. The man was asking questions, but none of them reached him.
Instead, his gaze was locked on an indiscernible mass of people hoarded around a gurney that held the awkward, gaunt frame of a young girl on it. They were yelling amongst themselves, the occasional feminine pronoun echoing in a sea of words he didn’t know, didn’t understand. He watched as they lifted her up into the ambulance, a few of the people climbing into the back of it with her while others ran around to the cab, or off to another blur of lights.
The sound of the doors getting slammed shut came like the crashing of violent waves. The sounds and sights around him suddenly became violently clear as the murky water that had seemingly encased him washed away in an instant.
It was then he realized he was still crying; steady, undisturbed streams of salty tears flowing down from emerald eyes, burning his cheeks.