This Is Not a Tragedy

32 | Reunion

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Sergius ends up wrong. I realize this as soon as I get off the plane in Japan and am greeted by sharp, light brown eyes.

The young Japanese man beside those eyes smiles warmly. "Hey," he says in English. His messily styled hair with bleached tips immediately draws my attention. A thin face accentuates his high cheekbones. "Natsu, right? I'm Kyo."

Kyo's use of English throws me off, and I have no clue what language to respond in. He doesn't mind, though, as he continues.

"This is Amelia. She's from Italy." He has a clear Japanese accent, but I suppose he's speaking English for her sake.

"Nice to meet you," I reply. Amelia looks me up and down then snubs me by turning her olive-toned chin away, reminiscent of Valerian. What is it with Italians immediately hating me?

Kyo and Amelia start walking, and I tighten the grip on my suitcase then follow. They lead me to a discreet-looking car, and we climb in, me in the back.

"There are five of us, including you," Kyo explains. "We're staying at a business hotel. You have a room to yourself. I'll explain things in more detail when we get there."

I nod.

Amelia says something in Italian, and Kyo replies in the same language. They have a conversation for the rest of the ride, dropping words like "Transformatis" and "IVA" so I assume they're talking about the work and not me.

When we get to the hotel, Kyo first takes me to his room where he continues speaking English despite it just being the two of us now. "You'll meet the others tomorrow. The training is at this address," he hands me a card with a handwritten address, "at 9 a.m.. You probably have a lot of questions. Sorry things are moving so fast. But a lot will be answered at the training. Today you can relax." He takes the car keys out of his pocket. "Sergius said you'd need the car."

"Hm?"

Kyo's eyes turn a bit soft. "You have someone to visit?"

I wonder if he knows. I look at his eyes again while taking the keys. He knows. "Thanks."

Kyo nods and gently slaps my arm. "Here's your room key. It's next door."

"Thanks."

"No need to thank me!" He grins. "We're all here for work. It's only natural to give you a place to rest, right?"

Well, I guess he's right. I put my suitcase in my room then slowly head to the parking garage. Can I even drive here? I don't have an international license or whatever I would need. I guess if I get pulled over, though, one of our own will eventually intervene and tell the officer, "You saw nothing." The sky is grey, and I can tell it's going to rain soon. More omens.

By the time I get to the parking lot near the cemetery, it's coming down in fat drops. I wonder if there's an umbrella somewhere in this car. After some digging around every possible compartment, I find one under the passenger's seat. When I pop open the black umbrella, the rain makes popping noises as it hits the nylon. I take a deep breath and climb the stairs towards my mother's grave.

Regardless of the rain, it'd be proper to clean it. It is my first time grave visiting. Despite being Japanese, we never did anything for Obon. No deceased relatives to visit―or so I was told. Am I supposed to greet the grandparents and aunt I never knew as well? Before I can change my direction towards the buckets and spigot, I spot a figure on the row where my mother's grave is. In fact, if I recall, it's exactly where her grave is.

A man. No umbrella. A bucket for grave cleaning beside him. Nervously, I ascend the stairs. With each step closer, my body fills with heat, and my veins tremble. I'm four or so meters away when I stop.