A Same Path

Foreword

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To my brother.

I leave in this book the story of my life and my will, where my family and friends entrusted me with their memories and emotions for its creation. Where I hope that the past will help the new generations to choose their path in the future along with the new bonds they will form.

Ryo Kurogane.

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The sound of wood burning and cracking echoed incessantly around me... standing in front of my home completely consumed by fire, I could only freeze, with the irritating heat of the flames hitting my face. A woman covered between her arms, trying to hide those visions from me, but it was impossible, nothing would stop it.

Dozens of people tried to enter what was left of the house, looking for some way to rescue whomever was inside... their screams, their desperation, the crying of the woman who surrounded me with her arms, the picture of that pair of bodies suffering and being burned by the unstoppable fire, where their screams of pain suffocated all other sounds...

They were the ones that finally made me open my eyes with abruptness, before I woke up and get up in fear.

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I was trying to calm down... it was not a new nightmare, but I would never be used to it. As I held my hand to my face to wipe off the sweat, I could only complain about the slight pain of the bruise on my eye.

Annoyance did not took so long to dominate my face... as I slowly fell back to sleep, I could only remain silent, knowing that I would never be able to fall asleep again.

The clock hands began to sound more and more intensely, there were still minutes to go before the alarm, but it was not the first time I woke up before hearing it. I knew that sooner or later I would have to get up, but I refused to stop feeling the soft contact of my bruised face with the pillow.

With each slight movement the prick of pain emerged and with it, like a reality slap, the memory of its causes returned.

My head crashing into the concrete came first. The silence of my home was replaced by shouts and alienated offenses towards me in the post office of my village; Hotaru. The crude sound of kicking did not take long to emerge again in the same way... my work did not end in the best possible way that day if I am honest.

My mind would return to the present at times; as I got up and sat down on the bed, I could barely make out a few moans because of the pertinent pain that was already there, while the bruises and wounds would now stand out on the rest of my body as well, bandaged in some areas, and with the pain of these, the memories would return.