It's Always The Step-Being

It was the first day of the week. I was supposed to go to school. But the weekend felt absent. It felt like nothing happened. 

At breakfast, as I ate the bread, I noticed the clock's hands were working wrong. The numbers didn't stick. It was seven, then eight, then seven again. So I kept checking the clock while I chewed on my bread. Then my grandma told me it was time to leave for school. I didn't know how long I had been eating.

I walked toward the door. I took all the steps; after one more, I would be out.

But I was still in my house.

How?

The hallway was longer than I remembered. The walls pressed in, and the floor stretched. So I walked back to my room and fell onto my bed. The uniform was still on me. Clinging to my skin. I didn't remember putting it on. I didn't remember yesterday. 

This is all due to the arrival of the step-being. All the missing time and the missing memories. It's all the step-being.

Ai-chan's voice called out. I buried my face in the pillow. The room was shrinking. I stayed like that.

'Was I at Kaito's home yesterday? Or was that today?'

'Father came yesterday? Or was that today?'

'There were no guests at home. Not yet.'

Ai-chan stood in the doorway. She looked out into the hall, then back at me.

Sora? Are we not going to school?

I turned onto my back. Stared at the ceiling.

"I don't know."

I turned to look at her. My grandmother walked past the entrance. She glanced at me but not at her. Her wrinkles curved around her face, folding into themselves. She kept walking. Didn't say anything.

I closed my eyes and hummed a melody I learned from Ai Chan.

When I opened my eyes, the light had shifted. It was late, too late for school. I didn't know if I left now whether I'd make it on time.

Time?

What was "on time"?

The clock ticked. Each sound pressed against my chest. My heart throbbed in rhythm.

The mark burned with it.

I took three cold showers. The fire wouldn't settle. I sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom. Water splattered over my head. The heat tried rising, so I leant back and let the water hit my stomach. Right where the mark was.

It helped a little.

I looked down at my feet. Bending my legs to see the soles. The small circles were still there. Dozens of them. They were all white. I'd stopped counting those years ago.

The water ran over them. I didn't feel anything.

A humming sound came from outside. Like an engine stopping before blasting into chaos. The bathroom seemed to grow longer, stretching laterally, and then stopped.

Ai-chan peeked through the door. Tilted her head.

He's here.

I don't know when I got dressed. I don't know when I walked out. But I was there. Standing in the hallway. Water dripping from my hair.

Someone was talking too close to my ear. It was Grandma's voice, too high, too fast, and too unnatural. She laughed at something. I didn't know what.

A water drop dangled from my bangs.

I didn't know my bangs were this long.

The drop hung there. Caught light from the ceiling bulb. Dangled for a long time. Then fell.

My eyes followed it down.

Before it hit the floor, my body was yanked forward.

I blinked.

Arms wrapped around me tightly. I could smell petrol, foreign cuisine, and Europe.

A hand rubbed the back of my head. Rough? Or gentle? or both. I didn't know. I heard my name many times. All muffled up. It didn't sound like my name.

The mark screamed. It glowed. I smelt the burning of my clothes.

I pulled away from the arms. I stepped back, my spine hitting the wall.

I blinked.

He was still there watching me. I noticed the lines at the corners of his eyes. I think they are called crow's feet. His glasses glistened like the drop that was dangling from my hair.

'Was he always this weak?'

'Was he always this small?'

"Hey, Sora," he smiled. Took off his glasses. Rubbed his eyes. "It's been long, hasn't it?"

Long? The word was wrong. Misused.

I chuckled. I didn't dare be loud.

He acted like we'd seen each other last week. I didn't remember how long it'd been. It felt like a millennium.

"Look at you. All grown and strong." He pressed his hand on my shoulder. Shook me gently.

'Strong?'

I didn't know. His grip was firm. So he must be strong.

I looked at his face. It kept dissolving into a mass or a mess. I blinked. He narrowed his eye. Those small, small eyes.

Did he want me to say something? I didn't know what. I didn't know what he liked. I didn't know if he was nice or trying to be nice.

A voice called out, "Ahh, you're Sora, aren't you?" A soft and distinct sound rang in my ear. It reeked of something sugary. "You're such a pretty boy."

The voice melted. It dissolved into a syrup of hollow sweetness. I looked at the floor where it had spilt. Touched my feet.

"Sora, this is your mother."

Mother? She died. A millennium ago.

The syrup hardened at my feet and turned black.

Ai-chan stood next to me. Look at her.

I looked up. The dark syrup had moulded into a shape. Hollow. Beautiful. A woman. Her arm was wrapped in my father's. Her lips—red lips—stretched into a smile.

'Ah, a replacement.'

I looked at my grandma. She wore the same smile. Even Grandpa had something like a smile on his face. 

They all smiled.

She has a dark soul. Ai-chan pointed at the being claiming to be my mother. Another 'step-being'.

Ai-chan wasn't smiling. She was the same as me.

"Sora," my grandmother nudged me. Her voice was normal again. "Greet them."

I looked at her. Then at Ai-chan.

"Hello. I am Sora."

Another drop of water fell from my hair. I brushed my hair back while keeping an eye on the step-being.

We were all at the dinner table.

My grandparents and I were at our usual spots. He and the step-being were in front of me. Why there? I couldn't see the clock anymore.

My grandmother was behaving unusually again. She kept refilling Father's bowl. Grandfather was released from his newspaper. 

I twisted my chopstick. It had a pattern I'd never noticed. Small flowers. I'd held these chopsticks a thousand times. They weren't there before.

"How was school?"

I looked at Father. He asked that. But what did he want to know? The shape of the building? The classroom? The homeroom teacher?

"I don't know."

He made a face. Looked at my grandma.

"He didn't go today. He was too enthusiastic to meet you."

I nodded. I didn't want to prove her wrong.

"Sora?" the being spoke.

I swallowed and glanced at her smile, which never wavered.

"You don't talk much?" She looked at me and then turned to my father.

'I talk to Ai-chan. Not step-beings.'

I didn't answer. Instead, I began refilling my soup.

Grandpa grumbled about being a rude host. 

I didn't care. I promised myself... if he said anything, I'd break his glasses. And this time, I'd break his son's, too.

I glanced at his son, my father.

He was glaring at me. Or staring. I didn't know which. As our eyes met, my heart ached, and the mark glowed. 

Ai-chan disappeared for a moment and then reappeared. But her body was flickering.

I shuddered. 'I should answer the dark spirit before Ai-chan vanishes again. But shouldn't I just believe harder?'

"He's just shy." 

I looked at my father. His words fell onto the table. "He was always like this."

A-always?

The words vibrated, then flew at me. I tried to dodge, but I was too slow. 

They struck me.

I looked at my hand. The word 'always' was dug into my skin. My index finger tingled. I looked closer.

The nail... the pink part... was gone.

I blinked. I waited for pain, but it never materialised.

I could hear my breathing. 

Ai-chan walked to me. Leaned close. Whispered in my ear. But does he even know you?