Do not look way, for this is the most important moment of your life, my life, and everyone else's lifes.
Do not forget this man nor what did you feel here.
Be grateful that you're here in the presence of his birth, Kanji.
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A single, fluffy white cloud drifted in the distance like an errant paintbrush stroke, making the day resemble a cerulean blue canvas. Sycamore Lane is a quiet residential neighborhood surrounded by houses painted in vibrant shades of buttercup yellow and lavender. The sun shone down on this beneficent giant. Four-year-old Leo, a bright spot in this picture-perfect scene, walked by wearing a faded red T-shirt with an image of a wonky spaceship on it and a pair of faded khaki shorts. His disheveled brown hair, constantly blowing in the wind, framed a pure joyous face.
The worn leather ball at the center of Leo's universe was covered in a jumble of scratches and a faded blue paint job. He chased after it, his plump legs bouncing like pistons, giving a happy yelp with each bounce.
A confidante in his imaginary travels, the ball mirrored him in every way. He would dribble it like an old hand, kick it high into the air, and hold it tenderly in his arms while whispering things only they would know.
With a great deal of enthusiasm, the ball was kicked farther than usual. Leo chased after it, eyes fixed on the bouncing prize, and giggled with delight. He failed to notice the dented mailbox sticking out of Mrs. Peabody's picket fence. There was a dull thud and a wobble, and then Leo was left sprawled on the asphalt, his tongue stinging from the taste of his scraped knee.
Tears were about to spill out, but curiosity, a strong emotion in any four-year-old, intervened. He looked up, sniffling, and wiped his nose with a dirty hand. The sight of Mrs. Peabody's flowerbed was not what he had anticipated. Actually, it was a wall.
That being said, this was no typical wall. It was enormous, beyond belief. Gigantic over everything in its vicinity, it stretched infinitely in both directions. Upon closer inspection, Leo discovered that it wasn't a wall at all but rather the massive trunk of a tree, unlike anything he had ever seen. Its bark pulsed with an otherworldly glow; it was an inky black color with an almost iridescent sheen. It was so enormous it was incomprehensible. It had to be higher than the school, perhaps even higher than his house! Thick as telephone poles, its gnarled branches vanished into the sky, their leaves, if any, hidden by the encroaching distance.
Leo's spine tingled a little, partially due to the scrape on his knee. Here, the air felt distinct—heavy and infused with an energy that was invisible.
The ball was a last-minute idea. Right now, getting out of this strange and terrifying spectacle was all that mattered. With his tiny legs thrashing angrily against the pavement, he turned and ran. With each stride, the grotesque tree appeared to enlarge, its strange luminosity creating a ghostly shade on the formerly known road.
He heard a growing disturbance as he ran. Eyes wide with surprise, heads turned. Individuals were gesturing, muttering, their expressions a patchwork of perplexity and wonder. The reactions grew more intense the closer he got to the neighborhood's center. Adults were fidgeting with their phones as they took in the incredible spectacle. Like him, the children stood motionless, staring at the enormous intruder.
He heard bits and pieces of conversation from a safe distance away. With a tone of incredulity, a woman exclaimed, "It wasn't there this morning." "It's expanding," a man murmured, staring at the tree. Expanding? Something that size could not possibly grow.
With a trembling small frame, Leo stood mesmerized. The tree defied the natural order of things by standing alone and refusing to bend. An unexplainable fascination washed over him along with a wave of fear. Something like this shouldn't exist; it was something out of a fairytale.
His reverie was broken by a warm hand landing on his shoulder. Sitting next to him was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a grin that was slightly strained. Hey, how do you feel about this? Yes, child, that is a lovely view. Similar to a soft summer breeze, his voice was deep and calming.
"Don't you think this is scary, sir?" Leo said in a voice that was hardly audible.
"I think it's more for the locals, to be honest," the man laughed, "but at the same time, I'd love to die watching such a beautiful God creation from so close."
Leo stepped back, shocked expression on his face. Perish? from observing a tree? The child was confused, but the man didn't seem to notice. As if deep in contemplation, he averted his gaze. Yes, I realized that I had to return home and buy groceries. This is a waste of time for me."
Curious, Leo enquired, "What is your name, sir?"
With a look of mild astonishment, the man pivoted around. "Oh, I apologize. I need some manners, even if you're a child. Akasaburo Kanji is my name.
Just when Kanji needed it, a cloud passed over the sky and a ray of sunlight fell on him. He changed right then and there. The common man seemed to radiate, an air of ethereality around his blue eyes and blonde hair. Once imposing, his height seemed almost divine now. Leo thought for a split second that he was staring at an extraterrestrial.
"Well, I gotta go, bye," Kanji said, his tone abruptly different from how he had been acting earlier. Leo gave the departing figure a confused wave of his hand. Kanji got into his ancient pickup truck, a rust-colored beast that didn't look like it belonged in the upmarket area. He took off with an engine roar, scattering dust in his wake and shocking the onlookers with his sudden silence.
As the truck disappeared from view, Kanji slapped his forehead. "What was I supposed to buy again?" He scratched his chin, trying to dredge up the forgotten list. His mind was a blank slate. A wave of panic washed over him. He couldn't return home empty-handed. He needed a cover story.
He murmured to himself, "Well, there's this enormous tree in the path of the store, yep, that's it, great." Although that was a weak justification, it will serve for the time being. He nodded decisively, turned the truck around, and drove back into the city.
After a little while, Kanji stopped into a service station. In a weak attempt to contain the situation, he picked up some candy bars for his children. He got back in the vehicle and headed down a gravel route off the main road. This was the trip home, a lonely road that meandered through an expansive woodland.
A strange feeling came over him as he drove. A golden sign glowing with an unsettling brightness caught his attention as he looked down at his palm. A reminder of a life he had attempted to flee, it was a sign he was all too familiar with.
He said, in a tone that was both dreadful and resigned, "This again..."
As he continued into the well-known area, Kanji's hold on the steering wheel grew more firm. Unconsciously, he drew the golden sign on his palm with his other hand. His mind was racing, a tornado of ideas and anxieties. What was taking place? Was there a threat to his family? One horrifying question after another, they piled up.
At last, the sight of his house appeared. A little wooden cottage in the middle of a large sugar plantation. The cold evening air did little to slow his beating heart as he parked the vehicle and got outside. Something was wrong with the home as he got closer. A red streak, contrasting sharply with the soft moonlight, extended from the front door.
A powerful mixture of anxiety and frustration arose. He kicked the door and broke it into splinters, letting out a savage howl. His presence was abruptly announced by the tremendous smash that reverberated throughout the dusk. Through his formerly serene house, the macabre guide of a blood trail called him.
The thundering thump of Kanji's heart was accompanied by a melancholy lament as his footsteps reverberated throughout the home. With every stride the iron smell intensified, a sickening perfume that hung in the air. With a raspy voice from despair, he shouted out repeatedly. "Hay marumaya! Cheers! Hey Marumaya, where are the kids? Hello, Maru! Maru!"
The home had become a haunted house after formerly serving as a haven of warmth and family. The typical clutter in the living area remained untouched, as it was vacant. Now a place of silence and sterility, the kitchen had once been a hub of laughing and shared meals. A quiet, scarlet path of blood guided him upward into an unidentified horror.
Voices came from the first floor and floated up. Reporters were examining the enormous tree on a television broadcast as their faces were carved with a mixture of terror and wonder. The TV was in one of the bedrooms. Kanji paid little attention to what was happening outside his house. He had a single, unwavering concentration because of his innate need to keep his family safe.
Kanji's bedroom, a chamber full of recollections of better days, was located along the blood trail. The red line that curled across the floor, however, destroyed the picture perfect. An unrelenting rhythm of terror and dread slammed in his heart like a battle drum.
A sizable cabinet—a piece of furniture that was home to innumerable secrets—marked the conclusion of the route. Reaching for the doorknob, his palms trembled. He took a deep breath and threw open the cabinet doors.
A terrifying scene was what met his eyes. A million parts of his universe broke apart.