A bad story

It was one of the best days that summer in terms of weather, that’s why despite it being so early in a Sunday morning, many people were out in the streets, most of which on the older side.

He was greeted by many on his way to the shrine, “Good morning, Akihiko-sensei.”

Once all signs of urbanisation faded from his surroundings he put on his earphones and navigated a path of cobblestone that stretched farther than his eyes could see. At the age of twenty-six, Akihiko Hayato had the physique of someone decades older, and walking that distance on a daily basis never truly became second nature for him.

Eventually he reached somewhere. He could hear it before seeing it, a familiar song that sent a warm feeling of nostalgia running through his skin for what could have been the millionth time.

Soon enough, he could see four children, the youngest of which was twelve, and the oldest no older than sixteen. They sat at the entrance of a shrine humming a melody that he knew well, for he is the one who taught them.

His lips made a think line of a smile as he waved to them, and accordingly, they stopped singing. They stood up and walked towards their teacher. Each greeting him in their own way: Shouta—the youngest—immediately called the teacher’s name, a name he could not fully speak before the fourteen-year-old Himawari struck his head: “Calm down you wild beast.”

The other two who were roughly the same age—Inori and Seishiro—approached calmly, they acted like two planets in different orbits. As Shouta fell into the ground exaggerating the pain in his head for the sake of attention and drama, Himawari explained that the two had something of an argument.

“Inori, Seishiro,” called Akihiko, “is everything alright?” His way of speaking had a unique charm to it; he was neither the most sociable person, nor was he the easiest to approach. But when it mattered, he was well-thought and well-spoken.

The two looked at each other, not sure what to say.

“Inori?” Akihiko tempted her to speak first. Although she was the oldest, Inori was shorter than both Seishiro and Himawari, she had a minuscule figure accompanied very fittingly by a pixie voice… but looks can be deceiving.

She went silent for a short moment before opening that door of hell of hers she calls a mouth, “Seishiro is stupid.”

Akihiko sighed as the thought “Why did I even ask her?” occurred to him. He next turned to Seishiro for a more acceptable answer.

“It’s about something we heard at school yesterday… some Third-year student is going to get involved in a fight with some guys from a different high school.” Explained Seishiro.

“And?”

“I suggested to go help him; they’re the ones who started the fight, anyway.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know for sure. People say one of them was dating a girl from our school and he tried something funny after they broke up. The guy from our school was trying to help and here we are.”

Akihiko looked at Seishiro in the eyes, “So you decided to go help, and Inori tried to stop you.”

The two nodded.

“I’m sorry Seishiro, she’s right.”

A wide smug was drawn on her face, tasting the addictive flavour of victory.

Forced to admit defeat, Seishiro apologised. All four were completely submitted to Akihiko’s judgements, for he was all the family they had, and that shrine was all the home.

Upon entering, Akihiko would always empty his bag of all the things he’d brought for them. They all were too old for toys, and he couldn’t afford to buy all four any other source of entertainment, He had lately spent so much money on their cell phones, but it was a good deal; it made him feel a little safer to know they could call him anytime they needed to.

Besides, they were never going to get bored in his company. Akihiko was a teacher—a teacher of many things. To the world, he taught high school mathematics, he taught kindness, he taught hard work and commitment. But to these four, and only to them, he taught magic.

“Sensei, where does magic even come from? And why can’t everyone use it?” Shouta asked, causing the other three to sigh. It was a story all three of them heard before, and it was finally time for Shouta.

***

Once upon a time, there was a god who ruled over humans.

IT had a name, though I may not say it.

IT was a lonely and sad thing who lived amongst weak and frail humans, and was worshipped for a power only IT possessed.

IT lived so long, many like to believe that IT witnessed the beginning of all beginnings. However, the longer IT lived, the more miserable IT felt.

One day, a child entered a shrine. It was left without visitors for sanctification; humans hate to approach the things they love and the things they fear, and IT was both.

The child approached where IT sat, showed no sign of respect or fright. But IT took no offence, IT watched the child curiously.

“Why are you here?” the child asked, “Mama said no one is allowed here.”—completely undermining that he himself broke that rule.

IT looked at the child in silence, partially because IT was confused, but also because IT barely knew how to speak to humans.

“Why are you so white? You look funny.” The child kept testing the patience of a god, but IT did not react.

IT held the child from its feet and the child laughed like a madman.

“I have a gift, human. And in my gift, I am lonely. May you lend the wise one some of your wisdom.”

The child of no more than three years took off a shell necklace and handed it to the god in front of him, “Mama said you should share with friends.”

With the child still upside down, IT walked out of the shrine, and in seconds, out of their houses, was everyone.

The mother of the child was in tears, to her, the claws of a monster were around her child, but she could neither fight nor resist.

Finally, IT spoke.

“Humans! Have I not given you what you asked for? Have I not granted you glory and abundance?”

Despite IT not meaning for the speech to sound the way it did, people were trembling in fear where they stoon watching IT.

“Now is time for you to pay me back. This power will be yours just as it is mine, but it will come at a price—an oath of loyalty to me!”

The fearful villagers knew neither what to expect, not what to feel. They bowed and offered their loyalty.

The end.

***

It was a bad story.

Minutes turned to hours as Akihiko spent his time teaching the four all sorts of things, all things but magic.

It eventually was nighttime, and he had to leave. He stepped out of the shrine and headed back to the long cobblestone path. This time, however, he was more excited to take his time and walk.

At least, so did he intend to do, if not for his eyes meeting those of a pale child, not far away from the shrine.

The child started running away from Akihiko, and Akihiko followed as fast as he could, he knew the child, and he knew ITS presence was a bad omen.

Near the end of the long path, Akihiko was out of breath, he stopped, took the white cloak out of his bag and wore it, then resumed running in the directing where he thought the child went in.

And it was not long until he could no longer see a pale child, not that one at least.

In front of him was a high school boy laying still on the ground, a broken glass bottle, and enough blood to soak his shoes, but the boy was still alive.

“Un-fair…” The boy said upon seeing Akihiko, perhaps his pride was more wounded than his head that was flooding with redness. He broke into tears as though it was not too late for that, for him to feel pity towards himself. “Please, H-help, anyone…any…’

The completely dark alley lit up for a second, as the pale child from earlier joined the two. The child stood next to Akihiko and intimately held his hand, like a younger brother would hold the hand of a bigger brother before crossing the road.

“Anyone’ll do?” Asked Akihiko.

The bleeding child nodded with last bits of strength he could afford to use.

The child let go off Akihiko’s hand and held the boy’s instead, and the rest was magic. His wounds started healing and the two shone in the no-longer-dark lane.

“I must have gotten lucky today.” A man in a black robe said in a low, calm and melodic voice as he approached them.

“How can I help you sir?” Akihiko asked.

“We must protect the seals.” He continued in an automatic manner before noticing the child lying on the verge of death. “You bring IT more suffering by bringing more believers. Not only the seal will I take, but the child too.”

The man kept approaching wit accelerating steps. The sound of his boots more and more threatening to Akihiko’s ears.

Akihiko’s mind raced the footsteps of the mysterious man, “Should I fight?” He thought, immediately rejecting that idea. He instead reached out to his bag and touched the staff that rested inside of it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his lips moved and he spoke something he himself could not fathom.

And out of their sight was the man-in-black, not only him, but the dark alley, the breeze of the street… It was all replaced with a sight Akihiko was familiar with; the attic where he woke up earlier that morning, and every morning as far as he can remember, at last, he was home.