Take Me With You



  TAKE ME WITH YOU

  By Asiko Ogunje

 

 

  PROLOGUE

  She was always weary of the rain.

  It was coming down hard, creating puddles that appeared shallow but was clever with its deception. A hurried foot came down hard on it, sending large drops scattering in every direction, becoming lost in the chaos of the downpour. Despite the rain she ran.

  Dashing across the busy district formerly known as Akihabara, Hatsuo Seiya’s panic made her oblivious to life’s clutter; the pedestrians ignoring the rain as they calmly made their way to their destinations; cars humming as they roamed the streets. All she could hear was her ragged breathing – dangerously painful to hear and to feel; she had been running for far too long and soon she would collapse.

  That moment stuck in Seiya’s mind, a moment where her body felt so raw that it was hard not to believe that she was alive yet, the moment had faded and her body numbed. She didn’t feel alive anymore. Perhaps that was why she was in the position she was in now; stood on a dive-board set up what felt like to her, impossibly high above the swimming pool. At her height the pool was as large as a playing card and it frightened her. She gazed down worriedly as the water swayed gently, glistening under the strong lights while the crowds’ eyes were on her, encouraging her to make the leap of faith.

  Seiya imagined what it would be like. With enough confidence she would be able to soar like an angel and be admired by everyone as she fell gracefully before disappearing under the shimmering surface.

  Yet, hesitation continued to fill her stomach, stopping her from making her move. Seiya couldn’t do it, she was a coward. She knew it and so did the spectators. Deep down in her heart however, she knew that that was a lie; she wasn’t a coward, she was was strong. Unexpectedly, her face lit up when she decided that indeed she was strong, she had the resolve to launch off the dive-board, break the surface of the water and enter another world. She would swim and forget her worries, her studies, and the people around her.

  Her arms spread out either side of her and she continued to stare down. Tears slid down her cold cheeks, feeling more real than they ever had. Motivated now, Seiya found the courage to tip her weight forward and let gravity take hold, falling off the dive-board to gracefully fall into the water below.

  GHOSTS

  In his mind he could hear her ragged breathing...

  She looked up at him with dead eyes, her body weak and depleted, unmoving under the thick covers that sheltered her but did nothing to warm her shivering body. Her hair was soaked with sweat, was breaking apart and clung to her skin – grey and dying, overrun with black blood vessels.

  ‘I will always love you...’

  She had said to him.

  Never before had he felt so scared, but what scared him even more was that this grim creature gazing longing and lovingly at him was his own mother. ‘Kioshi...’ An arm rose from under the covers. ‘I’m sorry... I’m sorry that I can’t be there to protect you from the monsters you’ll meet, from the dangers and horrors in the world...’ Tears like diluted ink spilled from her eyes and the sight frightened her son who clung on to his father tightly.

  ‘No matter what darkness you meet, Kioshi, you mustn’t become lost in it like I did. You’ll think that it will cure you of your pain, but it won’t. You must fight it. You can’t–!’ His mother stopped short, writhing around, startling him as moans of pain escaped her. Whatever illness that tortured her was one she never had a hope of beating. ‘I’ll be there! Whenever you’re lost and you need me most! I’ll be there!’ She held out a desperate, shaking hand. ‘Don’t lose hope, Kioshi.’

  Then her arm dropped like a stone and she was still.

  His father beside him tucked her fully under the cover and together they stared at the woman who hadn’t really been alive for years but had struggled to keep not only her sanity but her humanity.

  ‘Don’t be afraid Kioshi...’

  Kioshi gasped, the sound of the world flooding into his ears, sending a shock through body, reminding him that he was alive. Sweat slid down his left temple, cooling him down in addition to the gentle wind. Kioshi placed a hand on his forehead and stared as the world passed him by.

  Everyday for the years that followed his mother’s passing, Kioshi lived his life in fear and anxiety, mindful that at any time he too may become plagued by the same illness that had driven his mother insane and destroyed her body. Not a day went by when the image of his mother’s sick face forced its way to the front of his mind where he confronted it and then wrestled the dread that followed.

  Tamashii Kioshi waited for his time to come – which it would, he was sure of it.

  ‘Don’t be afraid Kioshi...’

  Kioshi slowly lifted his head, peering through tired and worn eyes. Despite being eighteen years-old he still hadn’t gotten used to the sight of the unforgiving grey sky that enforced melancholy on every citizen in Japan. The sun could barely be seen hidden behind the wall of grey and so the world was for ever dark. Under the dark sky were the black the Black Towers as many referred to them as – the buildings, filled the people with doom with its architecture; plain black structures with black windows that could be looked into but not out of. The combined elements made Japan a very unpleasant place to grow up in.

  His stare returned to the road where the cars zipped back and forth – much like the people around him, with an energy that he didn’t possess and didn’t think he ever would possess. All over Japan from what Kioshi gathered, everyone moved in the same mesmerising, loathsome unity that added to his bothersome opinion that the adults literally had no souls. The teenagers who still retained their sentience all dreaded the time when they would lose theirs too and fade away into the society that many of them quietly opposed.

  Much like his peers, Kioshi wasn’t prepared to assimilate to the world.

  His mother’s kind, gentle face appear at the front of his mind, smiling at him. She used to read him stories as a child during times when she was lucid, stories of boys and girls who went on adventures exploring other worlds, worlds with strong, vibrant colours that inspired joy – a feeling that the people in Japan seldom felt – if ever. The colours under Japan’s vast, grey sky were bleak and pale as if they were afraid to show their true splendour.

  The worlds he read of were vastly different to the one he lived in where the skies were such a rich blue that they were intoxicating and awe-inspiring just to look at; a blue so deep and luxurious that just imagining it made Kioshi lose all sense of where he was.

  ‘This is Paradise Kioshi.’

  His mother laid beside Kioshi as he fought to stay awake, his infant eyes trying to focus on the story. ‘Paradise?’ His hand reached out to stroke the watercolour drawing of children playing in a field. ‘What’s that?’

  Kioshi’s mother smiled and then spoke in a calm voice; ‘Paradise is a beautiful world where dreams come true. It is a world where you can be free and follow your heart.’

  Such books were a luxury when he was younger. Now, those sort of books; books about hope, dreams, fantasy, they didn’t exist.