Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

“A WHAT!”
Kuro, Nagasaki, and Django were relaxing in wicker chairs, listening to the sea crash into the high cliffs farther north and enjoying the medium breeze that negated the horrible heat wave. They had been discussing ideas for their future, until...
“I’m being serious,” Django said. “I want to be a hypnotist.” Kuro shook his head, but regretted it and had to push up his glasses again.
“But, Django, how would you even know how to become a hypnotist?” Kuro asked wildly. Django shrugged his shoulders.
“Through stubborn will, I suppose,” he said, then laughed at his own daring. “Still, if I can’t do that, I could always be a pirate.”
Kuro thought for a moment. “Even if I could be a pirate,” he said slowly, “I wouldn’t do that to my mom.” Django stopped laughing at looked at Kuro curiously.
“Why not? Your mom wouldn’t care if you were a pirate.” Kuro shook his head.
“No, I mean...I couldn’t leave her alone, like my dad did.” Again, anger filled him at the thought of his dad. “I won’t betray her.”
“Whatever you say,” Django said dismissively and stood up. He smiled at Kuro and Nagasaki then started walking backwards. Kuro and Nagasaki burst out laughing.
“You’re still not trying to do that, are you?” he snickered as Django fell over on his back. “You don’t have any sense of balance.”
“And YOU don’t have any sense at all,” Django shot back as Kuro and Nagasaki moved out of their seat and heaved him to his feet. Django tried again, this time tripping over his own feet and tumbling a few feet away. They both started laughing madly as Django continued to try over and over to walk backwards.
“Anyway, tomorrow’s your birthday, right?” Django said after an hour of failed walking. The three had relocated to the southern beach, where the breeze was stronger. The sun still beat down on them, but gray clouds were beginning to cover the orange-streaked sky.
“Yeah, my fifteenth birthday,” Kuro agreed and pushed up his glasses. “My mom’s so happy that I’ve made it this far.”
“Why’s that?” Django asked as he renewed his backward-walking attempt.
“I don’t know,” Kuro shrugged as he stood up. “Still, not every day that you’re fifteen, right?”
“Yeah, and you’ll be fifteen for an entire year,” Django snorted as he fell over. The three laughed and privately agreed to head home.
“Tomorrow, then?” Django said as he took the left fork that led to his home.
“Tomorrow,” Kuro agreed as he took the right fork. They waved and moved their separate ways.
“Kuro!” Even from this distance, Kuro could hear his mother calling him from their door, possibly with a spoon in her hands to beat him for being late. He cursed to himself as he sped up his pace until his house came into view.
“Finally!” Kuro’s mother breathed as he stepped into the house. She then proceeded to whack him over the head a few times with a wet towel. “I was worried you’d disappeared!”
“Aw, come on, Mom, I wouldn’t do that,” he said, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. “Where would I go?”
“I don’t know,” she said. Kuro laughed and fell into a chair. “So...what do you want for your birthday?”
Kuro looked at the ceiling and pushed up his glasses as he thought. “I don’t know,” he said after a while. “You could surprise me.”
“With what, now?” she said. “How am I supposed to know what you like?” Kuro had to admit, she had a fair point; she really didn’t know what he liked, for the simple fact that he himself wasn’t interested in many things.
“Hm...how about a new pair of glasses?” she said, pulling off his glasses. “This pair is always slipping down your nose.” Kuro made a reach for his glasses, but missed and swiped thin air.
“Give me back my glasses!” he said, reaching for them again, but laughing all the same. It took him a while before he snatched them and placed them promptly back on his face, where they slid forward a small bit.
“It’s getting late,” his mother said. “You should get to bed.” He agreed with her and made his way upstairs, where he changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. He took off his glasses and placed them on the table beside his bed and stared at the ceiling for a while before passing off to sleep.
“Wake up,” someone said softly. Kuro moaned and pulled his sheets over his head. He felt someone grab the covers and yank them back to expose his head to the morning sunlight.
“Not now,” he moaned and groped for the covers, his eyes still closed tight. When he couldn’t reach them, he sat up, blinked, and put on his glasses.
“Surprise!” his mother shouted, holding a small cake in one hand and a wrapped package in the other. Behind her was Django, smiling with his own wrapped gift.
“Wow,” Kuro gasped, rubbing his eyes. “This is...well, thanks, you guys.” Suddenly, he noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Nagasaki?” Kuro asked Django. Django sighed, “She...she couldn’t make it.”
“Huh? How come?”
Django sighed once again, “She’s very sick.”
“What do you mean?”
“She has leukemia; her fever is 104 degrees F.”
Kuro was stunned; their friend had fallen sick and was now bedridden. “Oh...” Kuro said solemnly as he looked down at his hands.
“But,” Django reassured him with a smile, “She’s with us in spirit.”
“Yeah.” Kuro smiled as he nodded his head.
He gave his mother a quick embrace and reached for her present. He unwrapped it quickly to find an eyeglass carrier with a new pair of glasses inside. The rims were circular and stone gray; they encased a glimmering pair of lenses. A huge grin spread across his face as he whipped off his old pair and placed the new pair upon his face, sliding the ends behind his ears. But, they slid forward again, so he fell back onto the bed, laughing.
“I must be destined to have slippery glasses!” he chuckled, then, pushed himself back up. His mother was laughing, too. Django handed him the huge package in his hands; inside was a pair of striped shoes.
“That way, you’ll trip as much as I do,” Django said, and they both laughed wildly.
“Thanks, you two,” Kuro said gratefully. “This has been one of my best birthdays.”
Later that day, Kuro and Django were striding down the town’s main street, examining the shops. Kuro had also received a large sum of Berries and was anxious to spend them. Django was trying once again to walk backwards, this time with more success. Suddenly, Django shouted out, gladly, “Hey, Kuro, look! It’s Nagasaki!”
Kuro turned around and there stood Nagasaki. But...has she recovered from leukemia?
“Hi, Nagasaki, how’re you felling?”
She didn’t know what to say, but had to say something and fast. “Good!” she said ecstatically.
“That’s great to hear!” Django smiled. But, Kuro knew she was still sick. He walked toward her, felt her forehead, and sighed, “Nagasaki, you’re burning up.”
“Kuro, I’ll live, don’t worry about it.”
He sighed once again, “Your temperature is 104 degrees. That’s not good for you, Nagasaki. You, really, should consider seeing a doctor.”
“Kuro, I appreciate your concern. I really do, but I’ll be fine. Really! Besides, the thermometer must’ve been broken. It’s impossible to have a temperature of 104. It was probably a sun stroke. I don’t need to see a doctor.”
Kuro smiled, “Why do you have to be so headstrong?”
“Because it’s your birthday and I don’t want to miss out on it.”
Kuro understood, but still concerned of his sick friend, and the three friends continued walking.
“I don’t understand it,” Django moaned. “Why aren’t you tripping all over the place? Those shoes should have you tumbling all around town!”
Kuro and Nagasaki laughed. “I don’t know, but everyone says I have the cat’s grace.” He didn’t care if this was good or bad; he quite liked the way he walked. “Enough about walking; I want to get into those shops.”
Django laughed. “I’ve never had any spending money.” Kuro was about to say something when he heard the sound of a bugle being played.
“What’s that?” Django asked. He stopped walking backwards and turned to look. Kuro also turned and noticed a new set of flags at the harbor.
“It’s the Navy,” Kuro muttered. “They always search the docks for filthy pirate workers.” But this assumption vanished when he heard the sound of marching. Kuro’s eyes widened.
“Django, Nagasaki, go home,” Kuro said abruptly. His face had gone pale and his hands began to sweat. Django and Nagasaki, surprisingly, said nothing and sped off at a very fast run, not looking back. The Navy, coming to this town?
Kuro began running home, but still the sound of the marching continued. He had a bad feeling about this; since when did the Navy ever inspect a town? Still, he didn’t look back once until he reached home.
“Kuro, what’s wrong?” his mother asked as Kuro slammed the door behind him and bolted it.
“The Navy’s coming,” he gasped. “Coming to town...for something.” His feeling of dread remained as he took a seat across from his mother. She, too, sensed danger and put away the book she had been reading.
Their fears were confirmed when they heard a loud rapping at the door.
“Open up, you scalawags! This is the Navy!” someone yelled from the other side of the door. Kuro and his mother remained still, partially from fear. After a few more slams on the door, a huge foot kicked it down, sending the hinges flying.
What happened next was nothing but a blur of bullets and screams; Kuro and his mother dived under their chairs to avoid the bullets. The crashing of glass and snapping of wood was earsplitting, combined with the yelling of the fifty or so men that had burst into the house. Kuro heard his mother scream as she was dragged out from under her spot. Kuro made to crawl out and grab her, but a swift kick in the head knocked him silly. He heard his mother’s screams as she struggled against the men. After what seemed like an eternity, a sickening sound unlike anyone had ever heard silenced all other noises and was followed by the rough sounds of the men dragging a body out of the room.
When he felt it was safe to emerge, he crawled out, rubbing his head and repositioning his glasses. What he saw was a nightmare; the remains of the door littered the room along with shards of glass and twine from the furniture; there was also a great deal of blood covering the floor.
“No,” Kuro whispered. He dashed out of the house and saw his mother’s mangled body splayed on the dirt. Her clothing had been horribly shredded, but it didn’t compare to what Kuro had first seen.
Her head was gone.
He was lost for words; all he did was tumble to his knees and begin to cry silently, covering his face with his hands. He cried continuously, even as it began to get dark, but no one came to see the gruesome and sorrowful scene that was set there.
It was only after midnight that Kuro began to stop crying. He tried to stand up, but felt weak and simply fell to the ground again. Behind him, he heard a soft yowl.
It was a black cat. It approached Kuro, but kept a short distance and sat, staring at the broken boy before it.
Kuro wiped his eyes with the cuff of his shirt and glared at the cat feebly. “What do you want?”
The cat merely sat there, its lamp-like eyes staring at him.
“Don’t you get it, you stupid cat?” Kuro yelled. “My mother’s dead.” The cat continued to stare, but moved closer to him.
Kuro stared at the cat and was hit with a new, painful thought; he was all alone. His father and mother were gone; there was no one left. He dropped his hands and returned the cat’s stare.
“Do you know that, cat?” he asked the cat. “Do you know I’m alone?”
“That’s not true.” A voice said behind him.
Kuro turned and saw one of his two best friends, “Nagasaki...”
She was leaning against a house with her arms crossed. She continued while walking toward him, “You have Django and I, you’re never alone, Kuro.”
He nodded after he wiped the tears from his eyes. Suddenly, he started to cry again and trying to hold back the tears, but the attempt failed, apparently from the grief of his mother’s death, and cried on Nagasaki. She wrapped one arm around him, one hand on his head, and reassured him, “Shh... I’m here, I’m here... It’s alright, it’s okay... Shh...”
She, later, hummed a lullaby (because she didn’t know the words to the song. NOTE: it’s the lullaby from ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’) that her mother and brothers sung to her whenever she was upset.
Finally, Kuro calmed down a bit, but was still upset. Nagasaki hummed the lullaby again, but this time, cradling him gently from side to side.
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“You want us to go with you?” Django asked,
Kuro had been completely ready to leave the island; but, he knew he couldn’t leave Django and Nagasaki; they were his best friends.
“Yes,” Kuro said. “I’ve had enough of this island; it carries too many horrible memories.” He didn’t tell Django what had happened to his mother, and in any case, it should be only his knowledge.
“But, where will we go?” Django asked. “And do you even have a boat?”
“They have a bunch of old boats at the harbor that no one uses, and there’s an island not far from here,” Kuro answered. Django shook his head.
“But, you said you’d never leave!” He stood up and started walking backwards again. “You said nothing could make you leave!”
“I...” Kuro stopped. He still didn’t want to tell Django about his mother. “Never mind that. Are you coming?”
“Of course!” Django cried. “There’s no work here for a traveling hypnotist!” All three of them laughed and started their way to the harbor.

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