A Figure Approaches

“The Land of the Living is divided into five regions: Tundra, Mountainous, Mushroom, Forest, and Rainforest. The forest region flourishes the most. It is home to one certain young future Chief who I respect highly, but intensely worry for.”

—Robin Benz

Fear steals my breath. Dread settles in my limbs, keeping me still. The humid air swirls with wind, rustling my black hair, but I don’t shake my bangs from my vision. My eyes are locked on that monstrous snake with sharp scales and thin, blue whiskers that resemble a catfish’s. It’s thicker than Mirei’s arm and longer than her body.

Mirei glances down and gasps. It’s a slight, nigh imperceptible movement, but the snake stops instantly.

It nudges its head against her shoulder. The whiskers catch on Mirei’s puffy sleeves, leaving droplets of blue liquid.

After several seconds of investigating this puffy surface, it turns its head away with disinterest, and continues its slow glide over her side. We do not move even after it has completely passed over her. It’s only until the snake disappears behind rose-colored shrubbery that we sigh in relief.

Mirei sits up, shaking violently. “W-What was… that?”

“I don’t know,” I stutter. I slap my cheeks several times, trying to stop the pins and needles that had sunk into my skin. My heart thumps erratically in my tongue, so I bite it down between my teeth.

I cannot be afraid. Not with Mirei here beside me. If I’m afraid, one moment of hesitation could cost the life of my closest family, the one who caught the despair in my eyes and replaced it with laughter. Without her, it’s very possible the fight I waged every night against death in my bed would have ended in my loss.

I refuse to let anyone but me die an early death.

I open my hand to reveal the hearing aid that got us into this mess. I shove it into my ear haphazardly. Then, I adjust my position so that I’m facing her, cross-legged. “Mirei, do you know where we are?”

Round eyes wander beside me for a while before stopping above us. “Is that…”

“Three suns,” I finish for her.

She shakes her head, blinks, and then squints. “Three suns.”

I dig through my school bag and pick out my phone. The screen flickers on, and I check to see if I have bars. I’m greeted with a message that simply reads “No Service.” I assume it’s the same for Mirei and exhale heavily.

“This isn’t Japan. So then where are we?”

Mirei sits up from her fetal position and continues to look around. Her head whips this way and that, curious hums slipping from her mouth with every glance at somewhere novel. “I dunno. But look at those bushes! They’re pink!”

In a flash, she darts up and speeds her way to the closest bush. An image of that horrifying snake pierces into my mind's eye and a plea rips from my throat: “Mirei, get back here!”

She stops very suddenly and nearly catches her sneaker on a twisting tree root. She peeks back at me.

I stomp up to her and grab her hand. “No exploring. This place is dangerous. We stay exactly in this spot until help comes or we magically teleport back to Sendai!”

I do not trust this new environment wrought with colors that don’t belong. Green, white, and crimson rays fall through lush tree leaves of varying shapes. Wrangled tree trunks rise from squishy soil and loom overhead, probably hiding innumerable exotic animals. Their warbling cries cut through the distant sound of rushing water and send chills up my spine. Overgrown vines hug mossy boulders, brown and burgundy tree roots, and even the web of branches above.

It’s not just that everything is alive, but it almost seems… sentient.

“But I’m hungry. And thirsty,” She adds.

“I can look through my bag, but in the meantime, we’re waiting for whatever teleported us here to put us back.”

My little sister grumbles but plops onto the ground— right next to a perfectly clean boulder. My eyebrow twitches. This girl is wearing a white dress, yet she doesn’t care enough to sit on a rock instead of red soil. Whatever, I think. Staining clothes are the least of my worries right now.

And so, the wait commences. As the Earth-like sun crawls across the sky, the two other suns swirl around it lazily. Their rays of light tilt steeper before dimming and eventually fizzling out. The song of the forest animals slows to a whisper, leaving the chittering of insects as the loudest. My thirst and hunger increase tenfold as darkness engulfs everything. The only good thing coming out of this is that the heat has abated. Night has come.

“I wonder how many moons there are…” I murmur to myself.

Mirei gives a short groan.

I let out a long breath. The hunger is starting to really kick in for me, so it’s probably bad for Mirei. She has an insatiable appetite. I remember last night at dinner, she was munching on her curry with gusto. Mom shook her head and chuckled.

“Eat slower, honey. Otherwise your stomach will hurt.”

Mirei scarfed the last spoonful of her second plate.

“Oh please,” she said, curry dripping down her chin. “I’ve never gotten a stomach ache before! Even during summer camp, when I won that raffle and ate a whole bowl of candy!”

Those memories bring me the most comfort. For the handful of years my illness was really bad, my mom, dad, and Mirei were some of the only people I saw.

My head falls into my hands. That familiar lump of despair crawls its way into my heart. I feel bad making my little sister suffer, but I really can’t risk her eating something poisonous.

We’ve settled under a particularly large tree, Mirei resting her head against my shoulder. She clutches my school bag which, unfortunately, has no drinks or snacks in it.

“Brother,” she mumbles. “From summer camp, I remember an important wilderness tip.”

My ears perk up at this. “That’s amazing, Mirei! What is it?”

“It’s the rule of three: we can live three minutes without air, three days without water, and three days without food.”

“Then we’ll wait three days here.”

Mirei shoots up and glares at me, moonlight glinting off her face. “Are you kidding me? I don’t want to wait three days! Let’s just go now!”

I flinch and hiss at her, “Be quiet! We don’t want to attract some bloodthirsty murder spider!”

Mirei whines quietly and bonks her elbow against my chest. I bonk her back.

The next two days and two nights follow this rhythm. We are stuck in a cycle of fitful sleeping and then waking to chapped lips and rumbling stomachs. There were two close calls: one with an absurdly large dragonfly-wasp hybrid and another with a tree root. Yes, a tree root. Those things can move. Just as I thought, this forest is sentient in some aspects. I almost broke my ankle, yet Mirei laughed at me. Clearly, she’s incredibly upset with me. That’s why, when the suns set for the third time, she stands up and stomps away from our huddle.

“Hey! Where are you going?” I yelp, scrambling up and grabbing my school bag. Without answering me, she marches toward the faint sound of running water. I scoff and hurry after her while skirting around as many of those pink bushes as possible.

“Mirei, answer me!” I demand. She just keeps forging ahead, stepping on twigs and blooming pink seedlings.

Finally, after a long bout of silence, she says, “I’m thirsty. Brother, it’s been basically three days and you're being stupid. Aren’t you thirsty?”

Of course I’m thirsty. My tongue is like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. I refuse to admit this to her, though. I don’t reply, I just walk with her. The whooshing water gets ever louder.

Eventually, Mirei parts a waterfall of green vines to reveal a gleaming pond. Its water is crystal clear, sparkling with pale moonlight. I can see the reflection of one moon, about twice the size of Earth’s moon. When we tread closer, the sight I’m greeted with steals my breath.

It’s beautiful: a dozen white flower petals glide languidly across gentle ripples of pond water. Tiny groups of duckweed bump against the petals and duck below the surface. When I crouch down, I can see a bit of the colorful vegetation swaying on the pond bed. From behind a cluster of tall, string-like plants the head of a white fish peeks through.

I don’t want to disturb this creature, not out of fear, but because it looks so shy, just like us. But just the sight of water is enough to push me to my limit.

So thirsty…

I try to be as gentle as possible when dipping my hands below the surface. When I bring the cool water to my lips, instant relief floods my senses. I go for another dip when the water’s surface splashes against my hands, disrupted. In the corner of my eye, I glimpse Mirei fervently bringing water to her mouth.

“There’s a fish here, don’t disturb it or it could attack,” I tell her quietly. She sips one last time before shuffling closer over to my side.

“Where?”

I dip my finger below the surface to point. “In those plants, it's in there. I think you scared it off…” Right as the words leave my mouth, the fish drifts back into view, but slightly higher. Its face is round with tiny button eyes. Hesitantly, it slides out completely from its home, rising to the surface. I can’t help but let out a sound of awe.

“Look, the fishie has a little gold marking on its back!” Mirei exclaims. Sure enough, when I look closer, a long line of gold trails down its body before cutting off at its tail fins. Mirei slowly sinks a finger below the pond’s surface and touches the top of its head.

The fish doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, it nudges against Mirei’s finger, as if happy with receiving a head pat. I chuckle.

“Aw, it’s so cute,” I murmur. The fish swims closer to me, now, like its expecting the same treatment. I hesitate, though. Mirei bumps her shoulder against mine in encouragement before standing up and walking away. I watch her go to the other side of the pond and reach out to a floating flower. This pond doesn’t seem to be hurting her in any way, so I suppose touching a little white fish won’t kill me.

My index finger once again breaches the pond’s surface. My mouth falls open in a silent “Wow” shape. The scales are hardly perceptible. In fact, the skin is very smooth.

But as soon as it nudges closer, it freezes.

My eyes widen. I poke it, urging it to move.

It does not.

Then, it tilts to its side and begins to sink. My heart lurches into my throat. “No, no! What did I—“

Right as the darkness swallows the fish whole, lost to the pond bed, something in my head splits. Pain surges and mixes with a piercing shriek: “STOP IT! STOP IT PLEASE!!”

I flinch back and clutch my head instantly. What—

“Brother?!”

It hurts, it hurts—

Small hands grip mine and shake me. “Brother, what’s going on? Hey!”

Then the pain sinks away, leaving a whisper of “please” before disappearing entirely.

Oh my God.

“What did I do?” My voice quavers. “Was that the fish that said that just now?”

Mirei grips my wrists now and yanks them away. “The fish didn’t say anything! SNAP OUT OF IT!” She demands, shaking my wrists violently.

“Ow, ow! Okay, okay!” I relent. My eyes lock with her concerned ones. Her brow is furrowed and the first drops of tears are starting to flood her eyes.

I don’t know what that was, but I can’t worry Mirei with it. I touched something of this world, and it stopped moving. What else can that mean except it died? I can’t tell Mirei that this cute fish just died by my touch. I can’t.

“Sorry, sorry. My hearing aids just acted up. Heard a ringing sound, I thought it was words.” I pour out lies, hoping Mirei will drink them up without abandon.

She stares at me for a moment, two, three. Then her shoulders relax and she falls back on her haunches. “Jeez, don’t do that again. Scared me.”

“Sorry.”

I feel so guilty. Not just for taking the life of an innocent fish, but also for letting my guard down. I let myself relax for a moment, and this is the result. From now on, it won’t happen again, I resolve.

My weakness is definitely showing on my face, so I close my eyes, turn away from Mirei, and stand up on shaky legs. I cross my arms tightly and bury my hands between them. I gulp one deep breath of air, and open my eyes once more— but immediately squint them. Something is there, in the foliage, just beyond the pond’s edge.

“Huh?” I whisper. This figure is tall, shrouded in leaves, but I can see a… human-like silhouette.

They step forward.

The sweet, humid air catches in my throat.

The first part of him I see are his hands: outstretched, guarding his bare torso, ready to defend. But these are not normal hands. They’re…

Claws, I think.

Beginning at the elbows, tan skin becomes a lavish mix of greens, grays, and blues. The tips of his fingers are not human fingernails, but sharpened stone. If the forest had to be in the shape of hands, this is what it would look like.

A glint of green brings my attention to the figure’s face. Waist-length brown hair obscures part of it, but not a pair of striking green eyes.

This person is not human.

The fear I’ve felt before does not compare to what chokes me now. It is two parts horror and eight parts awe.