九

When I open my eyes again I find myself in a barely familiar place. Ashi-Toku station is a station with only two platforms, one each for trains going either way on its singular line.

It’s not one of the stations I frequent. Nothing interesting exists out this way, it’s just house after house and I don’t know anyone living in one.

Not anymore at least.

Barely familiar is still familiar. I’ve been here before, when I was young. So young that looking at this scene conjures the phantom feeling of my father gripping my hand tightly. He was always the one to bring me places I wanted to go on the weekend because he couldn’t be at home during the week.

This is where Keisuke used to live, the next street over in fact. I was jealous of him for having a train station so nearby because I thought that made it easier for him to convince his sister to bring him places. I was wrong but that’s what I thought. It didn't help that Keisuke liked to tell me he did all sorts of things that he never actually did.

The clunk of a can dropping from a vending machine brings me back to the immediacy of the situation. A barely familiar girl hands a cold soda to a much more familiar boy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Keisuke with his natural black hair, and he’s certainly a lot taller now but that is definitely him, exactly how he looked 12 years ago.

“...!”

I try to call out to him but I have no voice. Standing up and placing myself in front of the pair as they walk towards the platform yields no results either, the two of them pass right through my body. Something is different here than it was outside.

The next train will be arriving on platform one in two minutes.

The announcer's voice is distorted, as if it’s been dubbed over this scene after the fact. Keisuke and his sister step to the front of the platform, just behind the yellow safety line.

“We have to stay behind this line, Ruri,” my father says to me as his phantom grip pretends to tighten around my hand.

“Nee-san, I’m cold…” little Keisuke says as he fumbles around trying to open his can of cola with his free hand.

“I told you to wear a warmer coat.”

“You didn’t tell me it would be this cold!”

Despite what he says, little Keisuke gulps at his cold drink like it were the middle of summer. He’s so focused on it he doesn’t notice the grip on his hand tighten for no apparent reason.

It might be an odd observation now but this station is lopsided. Keisuke and his sister are the only two people on platform 1 whilst the platform opposite is completely packed.

“Kei-kun… what was it you wanted to be when you grew up?” his sister asks him with more than a hint of trepidation. Of course, he doesn’t notice that, only hears the question.

“I’ve told you a million times, I’m going to be a football player!”

Keisuke does a couple of air kicks that drag him and his sister onto the yellow line.

“But what if you don’t become a football player? What if you’re not good enough?”

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m good enough! I scored 3 goals in my last match, they have a silly-sounding English word for when you score that many!”

This, evidently, was not the answer his sister wanted as her fingernails dig into her brother's hand, causing him pain even through the gloves he’s wearing.

“Ow! Nee-san, you’re hurting me!”

Keisuke tries to free himself from his sister's hold but she won’t let go. As he tries harder and harder to break free, he inches them gradually over the yellow line.

The train on platform 1 will arrive in one minute.

Suddenly, she lets go of his hand and brings it up to her chest. It’s like she’s standing in the fetal position, if such a thing were possible. Keisuke is concerned now, he’s pulling at his sister's jacket with his free hand and looking up at her face with concern.

I need to see what he’s seeing, that has to be important. My father’s hand resists the direction I want to go in, but only for the briefest of moments. He’s nothing but a phantom now, incapable of stopping anything from happening.

Standing just in front of Keisuke, I can see what he sees. His sister's face is a sea of tears and running makeup, both hands are clutched to her chest and her eyelids seem glued open.

“I want to jump,” she says.

With 12 more years lived now, it’s easy for me to understand what she’s saying. I’ve seen this before, in movies, on TV and before my very eyes. But little Keisuke was only a child. When he hears ‘jump’ he thinks of basketball and superheroes. Not this.

“Jump? Jump where? What’s wrong…?”

“Keisuke, you’re still young. Tell me why I shouldn’t jump.”

“What do you mean?! Jump where????”

“In front of the train. Please answer quickly, it's almost here.”

The mind of a child isn’t built to process something like this. It won’t immediately make the connection between her words and suicidal ideation. Because before it can think about what would be best to say in this moment, it must ask itself what happens when a person steps in front of a train. The train will hit them, of course. That will hurt. That will cause them to die. But people die in movies. People die on the news. People don’t die before your very eyes, people you know don’t die. What even is death anyway? Why was Mom so sad when grandmother ‘died’? We’re going to see her again, that’s what I was told. So it can’t be that bad, the problem with stepping in front of a train is that it will hurt, not that you’ll die.

“B- I-I-I”

You can’t have all of those thoughts in 60 seconds.

Keisuke is crying. His sister is crying. My father is crying. It’s all too much, and in normal people that produces tears.

The train’s horn sounds.

One of the very few times that Keisuke brought his sister up to me, he mentioned how she was the indecisive type.

She goes to step in front of the train but she’s a fraction too late to make it clean, a moment early to have survived. The train smashes into her torso, flinging her back onto the platform. Her body snaps around Keisuke’s like a bear trap, taking him with her. The two of them skid along the platform for a moment before coming to an abrupt halt.

Keisuke is trapped under his sister's body, blood is pooling around them as it pours from a wound in her head. And just a little further on is the can of cola that Keisuke had managed to hold onto until now. Its contents are also spilling out from their container, forming a stream that crawls slowly towards the unfolding scene, trying to get a better look. But as it reaches the widening circumference of blood, it too halts abruptly, unable to penetrate the sea of red.