Chapter 1: A Day in the Life of...
Shoba POV
Shoba concluded without a shadow of a doubt that after living in his Mother's country of birth for most of his adolescent life, the summers here were almost ten times better than those in Europe.
The festive season felt like a grand celebration, from the olive grove streets and the winding roads cutting through emerald sparse green meadows framed beneath liquid gold, but also because it marked the beginning of a joyous festive period. And festivals were always a fun occasion.
They tended to remind Shoba of this lovely island's vibrancy and rich culture. Although they lived 20 minutes from the city, small rural towns like this tended to spurn bursts of creative warmth within his young heart. The lively green village was filled with countless folk adorned in fancy wear, costumes, and colourful dresses.
Shoba scanned his surroundings. His statue-like eyes gleamed beneath the sunlight, golden brown with flakes of curious amber dancing around the iris. They were filled with a whimsical glare as he imprinted everything into his mind. Towards the westward way, the streets were alive, with people wearing colourful masks and performing ceremonial dances in preparation for the festival. Beneath the meadowy hills, he saw little children filling between the groves and chasing butterflies or stray white-tailed foxes.
All in all, the air was lovely to Shoba. He heard the playful chimes of toiling bells rung by elders in crimson and orange kimonos. Stray dogs sought refuge from the intense heat by seeking the shadows cast by the giant-sized floats passing along the streets. Locals would stop beside these estranged pups and gently feed them.
Shoba loved this lovely island. And couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather be.
Today, he was dressed in light attire—brightly washed shorts, a clean, freshly washed salmon-coloured shirt, and comfortable sandals. The sounds of his bike wheels squealed along as he rode it through the bustling streets with a cheerful demeanour.
Having been born and raised in Europe, Shoba easily stood out among the locals. His father, a property developer of African descent, and his Mother, an Osaka native and neuroscientist, had relocated to this island when Shoba was just ten. His younger sister was born when he was just four years old, so her life was spent on this vibrant island.
Shoba had grown to love this island for its dynamic energy and unmatched culinary delights. On this particular day, he made a deliberate detour through Mount Takao, eager to witness the breathtaking spectacle of the Sakura blossoms in full bloom.
The beautiful pink petals shone brilliantly under the sun's gaze; the wind carried loose sakura petals around the air and framed the scenery in a majestic canvas fitting for such a magical place. Shoba's attention shifted from the towering oaks covered in pink bushes to the vendors aligned along the winding, thin road. A childishly broad smile appeared across his features. He noticed her from afar, his favourite street vendor tending to her stall, a woman he knew very well as Old Lady Ma.
And her expertise just so happened to be one of his favourite delicacies—freshly made Dango.
Bringing his bike to a gentle skid near her stall, Shoba greeted her with a broad smile. His white teeth gleamed beneath the sunlight. He didn't have much money, so he hoped his boyish charm would earn him something delicious. He warmly addressed the elderly vendor, a loving and familiar figure he had passed by and interacted with many times.
"Good morning, Ma-San", He sang in his rehearsed pleasant voice.
The old lady finally realized who the young brown-faced boy was. Her previously still eyes were instantly warmed, and she saw his broad smile spread warmly.
"Shoba, you're late! Come, come, my dango won't eat itself. How are your parents, and how's sweet little Ringo doing?"
Shoba unhesitatingly accepted the four skewers with seasonal pink, white, and green balls of goodness. He devoured the delicacies, relishing the burst of sweet flavours in his mouth. He felt his body almost ascending into a glorious state of happiness, resembling someone intoxicated with delight.
"Mmm-hmm... all good. Ringo's not so little anymore, by the way, but it's all good the same... GULP These are incredible, Ma got any more?" He grumbled with two round cheeks filled with doughballs like a chipmunk
Old Lady Ma chuckled at his enthusiasm and offered him more laded neatly against her heated silver steam bowl.
Shoba caught the older woman staring dreamily. "Ho-ho, you remind me of my son," she remarked, gazing lovingly into his youthful, bright eyes. Shoba was unable to stay still for a single moment; his attention was constantly tugging at the bustling atmosphere around him.
"When he was young, he too couldn't get enough dango. You have the same energetic spirit as him," Old Ma reminisced.
While the frail, short older woman was lost in her memories, Shoba, still enjoying the sweets, noticed a large gathering nearby across the field.
"What's that about?" he inquired, looking over towards the formation of monks gently walking through the street.
"Hm? Oh, they're preparing for the Yule festivities. We'll be seeing the azure and crimson dragons again this year."
"Two dragons?" Shoba asked, puzzled.
Old Lady Ma nodded, her mouth forming a distant smile. Shoba didn't miss it; her gaze was strange and complicated as she watched the monks.
"Once every hundred or so years, the people celebrate the birth of the twin dragons, destined to spend an eternity in each other's embrace while providing us with abundant, bountiful riches and peace for the next hundred years."
Shoba found the tale a bit cliché for his taste, but he enjoyed watching the floats' construction of his third dango. Suddenly he felt his phone vibrating against his thigh. Pulling it out, he saw "Mom" on the caller ID, but the call ended before he could answer.
An expected text soon followed:
'Hey Shoba, don't forget we're having a family dinner today before the festival. Try not to detour before coming home...oh! And thank Grandma Ma for the dango,
I'll be paying her back tomorrow :)..'
Shoba grinned crookedly,
'When did I become so predictable?' he thought wryly to himself
Remembering the family dinner, he quickly realized he needed to leave.
"Ahh, Ma-san, I've got to—"
"Head home? ho-ho-That's quite alright." She half-cackled and laughed
"Oh, tell your father to stop hiding money in my wicker baskets! Feeding his children isn't that difficult. Tsk, I don't need the money," the old lady added with a faux anger.
"Children?" Shoba was a little confused hearing that. Old Lady Ma chuckled to herself before she answered.
"Oh, right. Did you think you were the only one who enjoyed my dango so much? (Chuckles) Ringo may seem serious and shy on the outside, but her appetite almost rivals yours, Shoba."
He shivered, picturing Ringo stuffing her face with his favourite sweet. Shoba creased a tight-lipped smile and nodded in response.
'Shy? More like cold-hearted,' he thought inwardly. He found it amusing that somehow everyone else who knew Ringo saw her as a quiet and sweet little girl. However, he remembered those cold, almost forever indifferent eyes plastered against his exceptionally talented sister's face.
He couldn't imagine her with a mouthful of dough balls, but once he did picture her, the floodgates opened, and his childish laughter broke free from his lips.
Knowing his family was doting on him right now. He didn't waste any more time and quickly said his goodbyes.
Strangely enough, Shoba caught the older woman staring at him with a profoundly saddened look for some weird reason.
"Hm? What's the matter, Old Ma?
Shoba stood still, visibly disturbed by the face Old Ma was making right now. He reached out his hand and wrapped his arm around her frail back, tucking her delicate body warmly and securely in his hold. He tapped his lips against her forehead and smiled.
"I'll pay you another visit tomorrow, Ma. Don't you worry?"
He raised his thumb and gave her a wink for good measure; his handsome, youthful face beamed with delight. Soon enough, Shoba was mounted on his bike again, spearheading down the winding road while the wind brushed past his frame. In these moments, he was as happy as could be.
As he rode away, he failed to notice the older woman's lingering gaze, which never trailed away from his back until he vanished from the street.
Unbeknownst to him, a mysterious glint remained concealed within her Old gaze
"Be strong...Shoba," she said softly beneath her breath. Tucked within the safe confinements of Old Ma's loose sleeves, she pulled free a weathered, palm-sized badge engraved with strange letterings and characters, almost like an RPG sheet. Her gaze filled with a complex wonder. She stared at the badge for some moments in silence, then took a deep breath and quietly walked away.
***
Shoba arrived at his familiar neighbourhood; he slightly raised his chin, gazing towards the azure skies where the sun hung at its peak this late afternoon. The homes and apartment complexes aligned majestically beneath the rays of golden light, bathing their cream and limestone exteriors
Once he entered his home, the light echo of his footsteps on the hardwood floor brought him back to the present.
"Oops, forgot to take off my shoes," he mumbled, realizing his oversight.
Halfway along the corridor, Shoba caught the scent of a delicious aroma filling his nostrils. In time, spurning his stomach to yearn in response with a soft growl licking his lips, he continued towards the dining area at the far end of the corridor. The medium-sized room was filled with bookcases and a large square table with a glass finish surrounded by five mahogany chairs.
At the head of the table sat his father, Mr Thomas, an aged man with a salt-and-pepper goatee and thin-rimmed circular glasses. Despite his middle age, his Dad looked relatively youthful, with a sharp chin and a deep-set jawline.
His deep almond hazelnut eyes briefly shifted from the paper he was perusing to greet Shoba with a warm smile he had never seen before.
"My son has returned," he announced proudly with a hearty laugh. His Dad always laughed, even when Shoba could remember getting in trouble. His laughter was never too far behind his stern telling off. It was his Mom who was the scary one out of the two.
Speaking of who, once he looked across the table. He beheld a gracefully ageing beauty, her raven-coloured hair tumbling past her shoulders. Her intriguing brown eyes shone upon an olive-skinned face, and she smiled cheerfully at him. Shoba creased a warm smile in return, and her delicately poised, veal-colored lips parted, and her soft-spoken voice graced his ears.
"You're just about on time, Shoba. Come, sit down. Ringo is just washing her hands in the bathroom. Oh! and how was your day?" His Mom asked him with an affectionate slight smile.
Shoba sat between his two parents, noticing his Mother's tender gaze and his father's slightly playful one lingering upon him
Patiently seated, Shoba scanned the various trays of food on the table, licking his lips whilst his finger danced rhythmically between the trays, strategizing how to enjoy as much of the delicious food as possible. He was by far too engrossed in his culinary calculations, so he didn't notice when the door to the side of him finally opened. The sound of it breaking the room's calmness caused Mr Thomas to look up briefly from his papers, his brows lifting slightly before resettling into peaceful lines.
Shoba had heard her before he saw her. His little sister had appeared. Ringo.
Ringo, a foot shorter than he was, possessed smooth red sand-like skin and a full head of curly black and light brown hair styled into afro puffs. She had blonde highlights and a nose ring. Her large eyes were cute, but her cold demeanour often quickly fractured that adorable image. She moved swiftly to the seat opposite her brother, dressed in high knee socks, dungarees, and a light white top, a small golden necklace with a striking blue gem of a tiny goddess in the pendant adorning her tall neck. If he remembered correctly, it was a gift to her from their Grandmother.
'And God rest her soul.' Shoba thought, remembering the frail old woman
Shoba awkwardly smiled and scratched his head as their eyes met. His own gaze shuffled around awkwardly; Ringo didn't blink and beheld him with a cold, expressionless mask.
'Jheese, talk about a murderous scowl, ' he said to himself, trying to think of anything to deter him from this awkward situation. Thankfully, his Mom was at hand to take the reins away.
"Ringo, what took you so long?" their Mother asked.
"Ah?" She sounded a little nervous whilst trying to find the right way to gather herself.
"Never mind, the food's almost cold now. Come on, let's say thanks before we eat.
Dear, isn't that enough light reading for now?
And Shoba, take your elbows off the table." Shoba wondered how long it would take her before she put on her sergeant cap. A family dinner wasn't a family dinner without his Mom organizing them all into semi-well-groomed fellows who would do well to respect the cultural dining etiquette.
She led them through a short version of their usual grace, and finally, they all tucked into dinner.
'Ah, it's great to be home', Shoba thought, after a long morning of parkour and judo training. A lovely, warm meal was just what he needed.
The family enjoyed a sumptuous three-course dinner featuring assorted meats and fish, vegetables, rice, peeled pork, and beef. The second course brought sweets and cakes, fruits, and a choice of tea or something more substantial, with bowls of sake reserved for his parents. Time passed pleasantly, and as evening arrived, dinner concluded.
Ringo patted her stomach approvingly and shot her brother a curious scowl.
"I heard you don't plan on taking the top Eastern prefecture's scientific exams. Hmm, could it be Big Brother is scared of showing everyone he's too weak?"
'Ah, here it comes.' Shoba could sense she was getting ready to begin her usual prodding and scrutinizing.
Her smile suggested she was joking around, but her cold, indifferent eyes told Shoba otherwise. After he finished savouring the sweet-tasting mouthful of sweet beef, he picked up the handkerchief and carefully dabbed the corners of his mouth. Purposefully taking his time to answer. Deep down, he knew very well the turn this seamlessly harmless interaction was about to take.
Chapter 2 : Feud
Shoba POV
"Uh-huh, but...Gulp...what's it to you? And if you must know, my omission from that poxy test is down to my lack of interest in schools such as those," He sang with an air of arrogance. He already smelled Ringo's plan of attack and decided to meet her halfway before the invasion of his peace began.
He continued before she could snap. "I'd rather not waste my time with those snobbish places. Besides, when was the last time a true elite had ever walked through those halls."
A downpour of anger filled her chest, and Ringo's nostrils flared up. Shoba carefully examined her entire face, which was almost steaming red.
'Uh-oh'
The entire table almost topped beneath Ringo's ire. Slamming her palms down with her whole weight, she rose and half-bent her lithe body over towards him, and in a flash, he was cowering away, praying for his life she wouldn't lunge over and whack him whilst he was trying to digest his food.
"Waste of time! How can you sit there and say that when countless people would give anything to have the opportunity you have? How many people make it to the last phase out of the 1000 applicants? 17! And here you are pretending as if it's not one of the most critical choices of your damned lazy life."
"Ringo! Your language," Their Mom quipped furiously. Ringo's cheeks immediately turned red. She covered her little mouth with her dainty hands, realizing her tongue was too sharp in front of her parents. As for their Dad, he decided not to get involved and placed himself outside of this argument.
A deep sigh escaped Ringo's mouth, realizing this was how her brother always was; her cold, indifferent gaze slowly returned.
"All I'm saying is it's not so bad to have a little drive in life."
"Hey, now that's not completely true. I do have goals and aspirations. For example, getting you angry all the time has become number one on the list of things I take great pride in recently."
"You…"Ringo growled at him, her cold glare deepening further. Shoba thought she might have lunged at him with claws and teeth bared if their parents were not present. Seizing the opportunity to exploit her restraint due to their parents' presence, he indulged in the rare sense of security their company provided. After pushing Ringo to the brink of frustration, he saw his Dad setting down his paper and clearing his throat purposefully loud.
"Shoba, your sister is right. You need ambition," His Father announced. Shoba glared at the calm man dismayingly, almost like he was staring at a traitor.
"Your nonchalant outlook on life touches me. I've always encouraged you to find your path. Your mother and I love you for who you are. But there comes a time when enough is enough.
You'll have your own home, perhaps a wife and children. And you must understand the importance of building and nurturing life," His Dad continued, propping his chin a little higher to impress his wife beside him.
Shoba couldn't help but lower his gaze. He wasn't lazy; academically and in sports, he excelled in everything. He regularly aced all the tests he took as a junior and even now.
Moreover, he was proficient in more than ten instruments and fluent in 6 languages, including his native tongues of many other old languages, especially the dual languages he inherited from his parents.
The term 'prodigy' was often thrown around loosely, but in Shoba's case, the academics he attended had rightfully bestowed it upon him from an earlier age.
The issue was that much to everyone else's dismay, he had little regard for his innate talents.
His father still reminded him of how a very childish version of himself, when offered a chance to attend one of the most prestigious private schools in the entire country, had emphatically declined, expressing more interest in extreme sports or, failing that, becoming a farmer.
To focus his energies, his parents enrolled the hyperactive youth into learning judo, Boxing, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, rock climbing, and gymnastics once he was old enough.
While Shoba took great pride in learning these skills, they still couldn't sway his mind.
The whims of a 10-year-old are often not too taken seriously, yet, as Shoba had declared in his childhood, the way he wanted to live his life was precisely the path he chose.
He spent his summers helping a distant relative on a farm in the plains, far from the city hustle. His leisure time was devoted to scaling heights with his gymnast friends in the adrenaline-fueled art of parkour. Now turning 17 this fall, even Shoba was finding it increasingly difficult to cling to his dreams of freedom. Under the intense scrutiny of his family, he felt like the loneliest boy in the world.
'If only they could see things from my perspective,'he thought to himself, wondering if there was a world where he could live as he pleased, free of all the world's troubles and simply at peace.
'But no one understands what it's like not to know where to go. If only they listened to me.'
"As for you, Ringo, your mother and I have explained the importance of communication, especially with your kin," Mr. Thomas said, piercingly at his daughter.
Ringo straightened her back stiffly, feeling sweat trickle down her spine beneath that stare. Everyone knew their Dad was considered a pushover, a laidback nonchalant who spent his days laughing or lounging around reading. This surprised Shoba, who heard countless stories of his Dad's adventurous spirit when he was young. He always wondered what might've happened to change his behaviour so drastically.
"Hmph. I hope you both take my words seriously and do not forget everything we discussed. It's OK to be zealous about improvement, but remember that arrogance deviates from humility and, in turn, makes you pretentious.
Never forget that... both of you."
Shoba saw his Mom nodding in agreement; for her part, she was relieved that the argument had subsided and there would be peace, if only for a moment.
"Hahaha, good, good. Now then, back to my paper," His Dad concluded, returning to his reading with a sense of satisfaction.
The late evening arrived, and both his parents had long since left the dining table, settling into their chilled world children in the next room away from the bickering of their two children. Mr Thomas, who usually occupied the cosy recliner, was beside his wife tonight. Shoba could hear them through the thin walls, engrossed in a light hearted debate, they were only vaguely aware of the local news blaring in the background.
Meanwhile, Shoba and Ringo were busy with their clean-up duty. Since they had started, an uncomfortable silence had hung above them, Making Shoba feel a growing anxiety.
He eventually held enough passive aggressiveness as he could handle for one day. Pausing from drying the washed porcelain plates, he glanced over at his sister, letting out a deep sigh before he parted his mouth aside.
"Ri-ringo, let's settle our difference and call a truce." he declared in a softer voice.
In Shoba's position, it was better for them to be friends than enemies. After a while, all the bickering got tiresome and a little too personal. Gone were the days when Ringo was the cutest baby he had ever seen. He still remembers those nights when she couldn't sleep and would constantly run into his room for comfort or during the days when she followed him around everywhere, asking to be carried.
'Sigh, those were the days.' He reminisced, feeling somewhat guilty for how their relationship had transpired. Shoba did desire to mend their relationship; he just couldn't find the answers to how
Ringo's voice eventually broke the soft thoughts swirling around his mind.
"What's there to set aside?" She replied coldly. "We don't get along; never have, and possibly never will." She declared a matter of factuality. Shoba felt his chest tightening hearing that.
"B-but How can you say something like that? We're family, and families sometimes don't always get along, but that doesn't mean we can't try to improve things."
Of course, he felt a genuine hurt hearing her say those words. He knew things had been tense with them recently, but to Shoba, he expected them both to grow out of this phase. He had heard about other people's relationships with their siblings and how time and age brought them closer.
I mean, who didn't have an annoying little sister?
"Pfft, family, you say. Don't make me laugh. You don't want that almost as much as I don't, "His little sister scoffed, pouring more cold water over his wishes.
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, his frown becoming more profound as he watched her putting on airs.
Ringo put down the utensils. Her perfectly shaped almond eyes locked onto him with an intensity that conveyed growing fury.
"Don't try to play the perfect brother now! You've always gotten whatever you wanted and never cared for a second about my feelings. How your selfishness has made my life a living hell." Her voice trembled with emotion.
Her words took Shoba aback. He was acutely aware of the pressure he had faced since school, which led his parents to give him more leeway these days, fearful of damaging his mental health as he grew up, but that still didn't stop him from making sure the spotlight was pointed towards his sister rather than him.
Hearing Ringo's harsh accusations left him incensed. Because of her, he chose to forgo pursuing this so-called genius intellect that others had fawned over him. Because of her, he decided to allow his light to dim so that she could have a chance to be brighter than him. Because of her, he's had to endure this constant feeling of self-hopelessness just so that everyone else around him feels fine while his own mental suffers.
His ire boiled to the point he could no longer be playful and remorseful. Rage bubbled in his stomach, and at this moment, Shoba wanted nothing more than to put his spoilt little sister in her place.
"I'm the selfish one?" Shoba retorted ferociously,
"You're the one who can't get over the fact that I'm good at something you're not!
Life isn't a competition, and if you desire so much of what I have, then by all means, take it!
I've tried to let you take centre stage, yet here you are, blaming me for your shortcomings, just like you always do.
Boo-Hoo! Poor Ringo—angry at the world because she can't get what she wants!
Try focusing on being better than me rather than actually being me; maybe you'll have some success of your own!"
A look of fury flashed against Ringo's face.
"Y-you...how dare you!" She was seething. Shoba knew he had gone too far, but right now, he was furious and wanted her to feel what she was making him feel.
"I'm not scared of you! It's about time someone told you some home truths for once." Shoba barked back with venom. He was tired of this nonsense between them both, this childish behavior of hers was beginning to grow old.
"You're the worst brother ever! I wish...I wish I weren't born into this stupid family!
Then I'd never have to see your stupid face again!
All you do is torment my life—I hate-I hate you!"
In a rage, Ringo grabbed the nearest plate and hurled it at Shoba. Fortunately, he had anticipated her move and managed to dodge the flying dish with a side step, repeatedly reminiscing some of the Judo footwork.
SMASH!
"WHAT'S WITH ALL THAT RUCKUS BACK THERE?" His Dad's voice boomed from the other room.
Standing amid the shattered porcelain, Shoba felt a mixture of shock and adrenaline coursing through his veins. His breathing was erratic, and warm beads of sweat dotted against his face because of the fury. After reflecting on what had just transpired, he turned his shaken gaze towards Ringo. Her large hazel and brown eyes were now brimming with tears; her frustration had also simmered to its boiling point.
Shoba uttered a simple sound to console her, but he could only stare helplessly as she stormed down the hall.
With a defeated sigh, he knelt to gather the broken pieces delicately, feeling the one who had been hurt the most during another of their long-standing feuds.
'Sometimes...I feel like I don't understand her at all,'
Grappling with a sense of guilt, he felt his shoulders tremble with both coldness and a sense of isolation running through his body. After placing the last shard into a secured black trash bag, he heard footsteps approaching.
Looking up, he saw his mother standing in the doorway, her arms folded and her expression far from pleased. She had heard everything.
Shoba suddenly felt a deep, non-physical pain gathered in his chest, the kind that couldn't be quickly healed with a band-aid or medication. His mother's disappointment weighed heavily on him just as much as Ringo's hate.
He heard her sigh before her footsteps approached him. Shoba remained on his knees in the middle of the kitchen. Her slender olive hands reached forward and rubbed Shoba's coarse afro hair.
"What were you both fighting about this time then?" She asked him. Shoba could hear the pang of disappointment in her tone.
He remained silent to decide what to say. Should he blame Ringo? After all, she was the one who couldn't let go of this unusual rivalry between them.
Shoba felt deeply frustrated because he wasn't sure what to do anymore. He was called lazy and too aloof when he chose to go against what the adults had expected of him. And if he tried to embrace his so-called genius, his sister was against him.
This whole mess made him feel like the world could not allow him to live freely. After a short while, he lifted his tired gaze and beheld his mom.
"It's nothing I can't handle," Shoba answered weakly, directly avoiding his mother's gaze. He was scared he would start crying if he stared at her for too long.
"Sigh, my brave boy." She said, ruffling his coarse afro hair. "Did you know you got that from me?"
"G-got what?" he sniffled.
"Your strength. Hahaha, but don't tell your Dad that. Now, Listen, you should not always shoulder the world's burdens alone. It's an impossible task and also a selfish one. Because who told you it was your job to do that in the first place...you understand what I'm saying to you, right Shoba?"
Shoba nodded. He had read about something called the God Complex. When you try to shoulder the world's burdens and create this sort of complex, you have to solve things that aren't even in your control. Most antiheroes tended to be born from such a complex.
"And don't think so bad about Ringo...she-she's growing up so quickly these days. And just like you and I, she too wants to be brave and protect the things closest to her. It's one of my greatest wishes that one day, both you and her will be the best of friends. So be patient, okay, try your best and allow her to grow?"
"Yes, Mom...I will try." Shoba wiped away the warm tears from his eyes as he responded.
Ringo was a case study he was still unsure how to solve. Perhaps he needed to steer things in a different direction. Years had accumulated, and their friction only intensified.
'There's still much of life I don't understand.' He told himself, staring in the direction where his sister had stormed down. Her words still lingered in the air. Shoba wondered if their wishes were true and what life might look like if he didn't have his family or Ringo.
He shuddered just at the thought of it.
Chapter 3 Chapter 3 -Starfall: A most terrible night
"..."
"We..."
'Huh...'
"wa-ai-t"
'What the hell? Who's there'
"Wake...Wake up"
'I don't understand you- who is there!'
"Wake up...Shoba! He's coming"
Suddenly Shoba's eyes flashed open. He awoke suddenly in a strange frenzy where his breaths laboriously fought for freedom away from his tight chest. The airiness of his mind was not the only discomforting thing, he could feel his skin clinging desperately to his vest from the accumulated sweat lathered against his entire body.
'What kind of nightmare was that,' he wondered very much stuck in a whirling trance of discomfort, still trying to reason with whether or not he had been attacked or slept so long he fell into another dimension. Either all felt incredibly terrifying in the moment.
Since he couldn't remember the last time he had such a bad sleep. He wondered what the time was, so he gently moved his tired gaze across his bedroom. He never fully closed his blinds during the night, allowing a freckle of soft light filtering through from the outdoor moonlight. Against his floor he saw the pale dew shedding a small shape of light into the open space.
It wasn't completely dark per se, since he could see the outline and shapes of things inside. The digital clock placed on the center of the tallest wall in his room sat directly in front of him. Shoba squinted his eyes and narrowed his brows in hopes of making sense of the foggy shapes cast within the darkness.
"3:am ey? Sigh...It won't hurt getting something to drink" he said. He had a habit of talking to himself these days, 'Gosh, here's hoping I'm not going crazy.'
Shoba climbed out of his messy but soft quilted bed and stretched his limbs out like a feline, exhaling a loudening yawn whilst the feeling of euphoria ran through his body. Once his feet touched the ground he heard a soft creek against the floorboards. In response he lowered his gaze, realizing he was barefoot.
'Where have my slippers gone?' Sigh, he could bet his savings that Ringo took them again
Knowing one of the things he hated nothing more was walking around his house without anything protecting the soles of his feet. He inwardly knew she stole them to annoy him. 'Just my luck' another loud yawn escaped through his mouth. His original mission of acquiring cold water, before rushing straight back into bed before sleep thoroughly left him for the rest of the long night, had changed into grabbing something to drink first, then locating the culprit who pinched his slippers. The number one suspect was definitely Ringo. But he still held some thought that he might've left them somewhere.
After he left his bedroom, Shoba arrived on the familiar narrow hallway. Against the walls , he stole soft glances at the pictures of their family hung against the wall over the years. He measured his steps purposefully whilst taking a look at the baby portraits of both himself and Ringo . A light chuckle escaped through his parched mouth, he still couldn't believe they both used to be so small. Ringo was also one of the cutest babies he had ever seen if he was being honest. But, Shoba would rather get caught drooling in his sleep than anyone hearing him say that.
Shoba continued his careful measured steps along the hardwood floorboards. He could hear the faint sounds of whirring noises coming from the air conditioner through the walls. Accompanied by a cold air walking straight through him, he reached the end of the hall and shivered a little. It felt like someone left the windows open for the entire night, it was way too cold out here for that not to be the case.
'Or perhaps the air conditioner is broken' Shoba thought to himself, very much dreading being at home once their Dad found that out. He would insist on them both attempting to D.I.Y, just for them both to arrive at the irreversible truth of failure.
Shoba walked into the dining room, scanning the walls for any traces of an opened window. His brow raised upon the discovery of the parted drapes welcoming the outdoor moonlight into the apartment. He felt somewhat strangely attracted to the scene before him, the cool tones formed inside from the moons pale glow. The misshapen shadows casted against the ground from the furniture. For as far along as he could remember, he somehow always found himself mesmerized by the twilight skies.
The mysteries of such tended to remind him about the complexities of their world. The galaxies, the uncharted nebulas and the distant twinkling stars.
You couldn't help feel so tiny in a world filled with so much gigantic chaos.
'Ah, where was that water he needed.'
Living in a same floored apartment, Shoba saw the kitchen from inside the living area. His mouth watered just from imagining the feeling of that soothingly cold water finally running down his throat. 'I need to buy a sizeable water bottle to keep beside my bed when I sleep,' he thought inwardly . To be honest he always told himself the same thing, every night when he was woken up in the middle of the night to quench his thirst. 'Let me set a reminder on my phone.'
He reached into his pocket and took out his smart phone. In a few seconds, thanks to the face ID, he had bypassed entering in his passcode and he was currently scrolling across the touch screen in search of his notes application.
"Ah-there you are."
His fingers got busy, and he began structuring his reminder for tomorrow morning.
"Must…get…water-bottle…wait what the…" he voiced abruptly seeing the touch screen against his smartphone suddenly begin to distort. He tried repeatedly tapping the screens edges, but all he seemed to be doing was creating dark splotchy areas against the surface.
'What kind of…damn it- did I get this wet somehow?' he was getting annoyed, and he was still tired. Shoba tried performing the factory reset on the phone as his last resort. He had only just gotten this upgrade recently, now his mind was whirring with possibilities as to what might've caused it to fail. The phone company would be seeing his dead body before they saw his money again so soon. And so, In a brief few moments, those familiar maniacal cogs within his unique mind began to whirl.
Shoba's eyes slowly opened wide, and he adopted a crazed, vacant look, where his gaze refused to even blink for a single moment. Within this intense focus, Shoba could see it all…the placement of each screw, the motherboard, and all those tiny colored veins that firmed the little intricacies of the phone itself.
Whenever he would fall into this state, which the doctors labeled as low latent inhibition, it was imperative that he forcefully remove his eyes away from the obsession. Or immediately look for his emergency medication before he blacked out or fell into a fit.
Shoba thought back to the previous 'falling out' as Ringo liked to call it. He ended up sitting in front of his microwave for 12 hours straight dissembling and putting it back together again. 'Damn it! This isn't the time for this.' He could feel every fiber within him yearning to switch its entire focus on the problem of his phone no longer responding. Just when he was at his wits end with the noise within his head. Just when he thought all hope was lost...
There was a loud bang from the outdoors.
He heard a blood-curdling scream. And sounds of blaring alarms
And just like that, Shoba broke free from that mental hold. But he didn't waste time basking in his victory, 'that crash sounded way too close by.' So he approached the slackened drapes and peered through the thinner white fabrics layered between himself and the glass glazing. There wasn't a lot of visibility afforded to him from this height. But he sensed commotion in the apartment complex stirring in the air. A crowd of voices appeared not so long after that crashing sound, which only fueled his curiosity a little more. Shoba took a questioning look at the grandfather clock standing regally poised against the wall against the shadows. It was incredibly too late to be venturing anywhere at this hour. He knew that was the sensible thought. And yet...
Amid his cognitive dissonance, he was actively searching for his slippers already putting on his robes to brave the frigid night air.
'Ah what the heck, what's the worst that can happen, and it's not like I'll be sleeping anytime soon.' And so off he went, he got modestly dressed as one could do at this hour. He tapped his pockets to make sure he had secured his keys and his phone. He grimaced slightly remembering the state his phone was in. But that was a matter he needed to put aside for now.
Their apartment was located on the 2nd floor. Shoba quietly slipped away from his household and headed towards the stairwell. Venturing down the cold, stony steps he passed by a few of his neighbors who were surprisingly still awake at this hour.
'I'm guessing that disturbance woke everyone up, Well, almost everyone since I imagine Dad, Mom, and Ringo are still lost in the sea of their dreams.'
The closer he drew towards the ground floor the more apparent and loud those voices became. Shoba descended the last staircase where he was greeted by what looked like 1/3rd of the entire complex gathered. Now he was starting to feel tense. 'What has happened at this time of the night.' He squeezed himself through the bodies in his way,
"Excuse me-s-sorry-coming through --sorry about that. Excuse me."
He finally reached the other side of the crowd, curious to see for himself what the large group circled. But perhaps hindsight was a wonderful thing, since the moment he laid his eyes upon the scene in front of him. An intense wave of nausea muddled with a callous sensation of fear ran down his spine. There was a half torn car placed in the middle of the gravel walkway. The back of the car was missing, as though it had been torn away from its front. Leaving only the engine, the front two wheels, the driver, and the passenger seat.
The doors were also missing. So inside he could see what was undeniably a corpse. Yep, the bloody remains of a young man sprawled against the passenger seat. The terror of seeing his bulging lifeless eyes had birthed something horrid inside of Shoba. Halfway torn between throwing up the food he had eaten the previous night or running away as far as he possibly could. Surprisingly to himself, he did neither. Shoba stared at those lifeless white eyes without a single rational thought swirling within his mind.
After a short while he did eventually snap free from his nightmarish daydream. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his trousers listening to the erratic voices around him trying to explain what had happened here.
"It's just like the old man said. We heard a loud bang and then suddenly…l-look what we find." A fellow who lived on the same floor as him said.
"It doesn't make any sense." Another chimed in from the back, after the initial shock had subsided. A series of overlapping voices filled the frigid air.
"There's no signs of a car crash or anything? "
"It's almost as if it was dropped out of nowhere."
"You don't think it's…aliens?"
"What a foolish and incompetent thing to say."
"Show some respect to the dead, you idiot."
"I-I didn't mea-mean it disrespectful. But come on, this is…"
"He's not completely absurd! Which one of you can explain this madness?"
"Yeah but…aliens? Really."
Shoba casually lost focus and steered his attention towards one side of the area. In particular, against a stoned wall he noticed a peculiar pale spiraling sequence etched against it. He surprised himself unsure how he managed to even notice it from afar. He counted 7 rings orbiting around a center. Curiosity got the better of him, and he ended up stretching out his hand, lightly brushing its dust-covered surface with his fingers. As expected it coated the tips of his fingers in a thick white dust.
'It's just like chalk.'
The strange substance bothered him somewhat, but then his attention was swiftly captured by the sounds of more commotion from his rear.
It looked as though an argument had broken out between the crowd. Meanwhile, two slightly elderly women approached the half-torn car, they formed the sign of the cross before lowering their heads in prayer.
It was clear to see the atmosphere was getting tense. So Shoba casually broke away from the gathered bodies and walked a little further past the small wreckage and that dead body. He was still getting goosebumps just picturing those vacant bloodshot eyes staring back at him. Another rogue thought surfacing his mind was the fact he should be at home right now. Instead, he was roaming around outside and possibly a witness to some kind of freak accident, or even worse...a murder.
'Ringo won't allow me to live this down.' He thought darkly.
She would make sure everyone was reminded about that one time he snuck out in the middle of the night and was drawn into a conspiracy which left their families name plastered all over the papers.
By the time he had walked a few 100 steps away, Shoba could still hear the numerous vocal voices behind him, but from this distance, nothing audible reached his ears. He wasn't sure what he expected to find here. He simply obeyed his instincts and walked ahead. He suddenly noticed the rigidity of the air, as though the temperature had plummeted to a dangerously low level. Bearing in mind his only wears this evening was his thin loose shirt and pajama bottoms.
He felt every biting movement of the cold winds drifting to and fro around him. He heard a noise likened to a small owl's hoot echoing in the air at a sudden. Shoba nervily raised his head towards the heavens but found nothing short of the usual starry skies alongside the pale cold eye, lodged deep in space. For an untold reason, his eyes lingered twice as long against the moon. A sense of fear crawled against the nape of his neck.
"AHHHHH!"
"HEY WH-WHAT'S THAT!"
"AHHHH! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!"
The screams from his rear pulled him swiftly away from his daydream. At first, Shoba felt annoyance, but then his entire body turned numb and cold. He narrowed his eyes and widened them in quick succession, before he found himself almost gasping out of shock. Staring at it almost made it feel less true, but he couldn't deny the thing in front of his uncertain gaze.
What he could only describe as a telltale shimmering distortion within the very air itself.
Now, Shoba had played his fair share of fantasy and horror games in his lifetime, so recognizing a portal from an initial glance wasn't difficult. Only, this wasn't a game...so what the hell w-was that.
His footsteps hurryingly approached the direction in which he had moved away from initially. His bones stiffened with each step he drew closer to it. Shoba's chest tightened and he held his feet in place. Standing about a few feet away from the aberration against the formless air. That look of terrible surprise affixed securely against his face. This wasn't a trick, nor was he dreaming. He saw a dark crevice marked in-between the slightly stretched oval shape of the shimmering bubble. Standing this close the bothersome eerie echoes from static and crackling cries filled his ears, reminding him of burning firewood.
"A... a portal? That's...impossible." Shoba mouthed almost disbelieving in the reality itself. He wasn't the only one, everyone else wore faces filled with the same incomprehensible dread as his own. But despite the shared horror, a few bravely stalked around the thing.
"Is this...real?" An old man dressed in fishing garbs asked. There was a shorter and younger fellow beside him, the sallow-skinned youth rather boldly took a step closer towards the whirring distortion cracked against the air and slowly moved his hand towards it in awe.
The old man panicked and swatted the boy's hand away.
"Have you gone completely mad boy?"
"O-ouch...I... Just wanted to check if it was real."
There was a slightly chubby lady, who lived a few floors beneath their apartment. She always cradled her ginger kitten (rather forcefully) in her bearish hug. And so it was no surprise to see the kitten had also been dragged along with her tonight.
"Mr Fujiwara" she said pleadingly towards the shrewd eyed man standing beside her. He carried a slim build and squared horned-rimmed glasses.
"Wh-what is that thing?" she pointed towards the portal shakingly.
Mr Fujiwara in his usual cool manner of doing things, straightened his glasses a little before smoothing his prickled chin in silence for a few moments.
"It appears to be some kind of rift, only...it shouldn't even be remotely possible." He said in deep thought. Shoba noticed he had half a cigarette resting between the top of his ears and his head. Usually you wouldn't see Mr Fujiwara without a cigarette glued between his fingers or resting against his lips.
"We should tell someone?" Said one of the bystanders
"Y-yeah like who?" Another chimed in
"Don't worry I'm already contacting the police..."
"Wait! Look something is...happening."
All of their eyes fell against the floating portal in front of them. Within that dark crevice gaping in the middle, Shoba began to see something slowly unearthing away out from the void. Something pale...a hand? Yes it was a hand and then the sleeve slowly appeared behind it. Someone's arm? He could feel the tense atmosphere around him. It was almost suffocating whilst they endured the stifled patience of awaiting what would happen next.
Shoba couldn't say what he thought might've emerged. But once the full sleeved finally appeared, he wasn't expecting to see what he did.