Akane ran from her playing setup in the living room as she heard her grandmother’s hesitant voice calling her. She could sense a hint of playfulness in her tone.
“You see this Akane-chan?” Baachan asked in a low voice. Akane looked at the half-empty tea cup her smirking grandmother was showing her under the table.
They were at Akane’s mother’s house. Baachan’s visits were very few and far in between but, when she did come, it was nothing short of bizarre.
As Akane looked under the table where her grandmother held the tea cup she could feel the air around her thicken, her chest tightening. She sprang a look at her grandma as she hesitated to look into the cup.
Baachan’s face was hidden in shadow, she still held her smirk, which surprisingly, lacked any sort of crease.
She shook the liquid filled glass,
“What’s wrong Akane? Don’t you trust your grandmother?”
Akane could even feel her pupils shaking. She swallowed what seemed like a whole damn horse and peered under the table once again. This time she got a look at the inside of the cup. The swirling green tea seemed to take shape slowly, swishing and swashing around the solidifying center. Suddenly, the head of a creature with uneven moving eyes and gaping mouth devoid of teeth sprouted from the swirl.
/Prrt Ssh Prrt Ssh/
Small splashes of tea prickled Akane’s soft, plush face. Eyes wide, she stood there, dumbfounded. Baachan cackled as she threw the tea to the ceiling. The stream of tea circled and traveled in the air until it made streamline towards her now open mouth.
“Wha- wha-” were the only words Akane could muster.
Just then, Baachan’s eldest daughter, Akane’s mother, walked in the room. She took one look and just by eyeing her little daughter’s face dripping with green tea she already knew her mischievous mother was up to no good.
“Mom are you messing with her? I should’ve known better than to leave you alone with children.”
----
Akane looked out the train window as she slouched in her seat. The landscape slowly went from bustling city with an overpopulation of gray buildings and houses to smaller simpler family structures eventually reducing to seemingly endless fields of grass and rice plantations.
Another two hours until she arrived at the ancient house. Actually, add an extra 3 hours and a half to that. After the train station she would have to walk the rest of the way. The vegetation and bamboo plantations habitually blocked all the main roads that could lead to the house. It was more affordable for her either way just walking rather than renting a car.
Akane looked at the sun lit fields deep in thought, reminiscing all of her grandmas Baachan’s tricks and jokes.
Stolen novel; please report.
/Sigh/
She really was something else. She was 80 years old when she passed away, but the last time Akane saw her she didn’t look a day over 40. Her silhouette was defined by her deep mulberry hat with a circumference that rivaled that of the very moon and plumage covering the band. Large dark robes enveloped her whole body. Akane could only guess she was wearing elbow long gloves of the same dark color because of the few times she saw her perform her ‘tricks’.
She still remembered the sound of the heels of her pointy boots tapping on the wooden floor from the few times she visited.
Station in, station out. People came, people left, but not everyone. There were more than just people here. Akane could sense it. It was a strange feeling that would run down her spine every now and again, even in her normal suburban life. The feeling always followed some sort of overly dramatic event like when her mom accidentally lit the kitchen on fire or her bike getting crushed the other night (she really should get that fixed, how the heck is she going to get to campus on time?). Baachan told her this was her own special power, she could sense mischief, the hunger for chaos.
The scene at the train was no different. She rubbed her eyes, like it could rub away the feeling of dread that had been draping over her since she had left her apartment. Nothing really felt right that day. Hah. When did it ever? The only one who seemed to understand was Baachan. I mean, she even inspired her pursuit for a career in the most proficient form of storytelling (in her eyes), manga.
The morning mist slowly set on the mountains in the horizon as the small numbers on the shattered screen of Akane’s Samsung 6 read 9:00 am.
/BzZtT bZzTt/
The small, barely attached crystals on her phone crickled as it buzzed in her small ink stained hand. It was her mom, Akiko Fujimori. As the eldest daughter of the Fujimori-Hayashi family she was in charge of all the arrangements concerning her mother, Baachan’s funeral. Akiko and her two sisters and four brothers were raised in the family home their mother had inherited, a very traditional japanese home. Might as well call it a mansion, the thing is huge, everyone who passed by could mistake it for a castle as it sat atop a hill, it’s majesty at full display. Complete with bamboo woven sliding doors, tatami mat flooring, paper walls and masterfully crafted ceramic tiled roofs and elevated wooden floors to prevent any dampness or summer sun from aging the insides. They lived surrounded by bamboo and rice plantations on every corner, rarely exposed to the tarnished gray hues of the city atmosphere.
In theory, they had everything they could ever need. This seemed to be the case until Akiko reached the age of 14, her younger sister being only 6 years old. Their mother habitually disappeared, sometimes they wouldn’t even see her for 2 weeks in a row. Despite her absence her husband remained faithful and took care of their children, worked and was in charge of maintaining the house. There had to be something he knew they didn’t. How come he was never doubtful?
Despite the underlying mistrust and absence Akiko felt, she could not deny she loved her mother. Unfortunately not all of her siblings felt the same. She still hoped they would come.
Akane carefully tapped and slid her finger on the screen of her phone (careful not to cut herself again) and answered her mother’s call.
“Yeah, hello?” She said as she took a look around noting there were only a few other people in the cart.
“Aka, are you coming? Or did you stay sulking in your apartment again?”
“No, mom. I’m on my way. And can you stop bothering me about that? I really haven’t felt right since Baachan passed,” her mouth went dry, “I don't know what to do, I just can’t escape this feeling of dread.”
“Well, isn’t that dramatic,” Akane knew she was rolling her eyes. Her mother has never gotten to understand or even believe that those feelings were actually eating away at her daughter’s consciousness. “Just please make sure you get here in time. All your uncles and aunts want to see you.”
“Mhm, got it.”
“Ok bye Aka, love you.”
“Love you.”