九

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

I just did this, these thoughts are fresh in my mind. The only difference now is that their recurrence is notable.

The thud of a can. To my right, little Keisuke is handed a cola by his big sister. They walk to the yellow line.

I remember now what Kai said about the acceleration of these things. This regret lasts only a matter of minutes whereas the previous ones were days and hours.

My father isn’t here to distract me this time, so I pay closer attention to Keisuke’s sister, trying to see if there was a sign. Quickly, I realize how fruitless an endeavour it is that I’m engaged in. This is Keisuke’s regret, it can only be represented as the mixture between fact and fiction he remembers it as. Perhaps there was a sign, a moment her eyes glossed over but to Keisuke, it will always be like this.

One moment his sister was there, and then the next she wasn’t.

Watching the events from over here is somehow worse. Before, I split my focus between Keisuke and his sister but now, I can only watch the little boy.

He pulls at her, but he’s not yet strong enough to sway her body. He screams at her but he doesn’t have the words to sway her mind. He cries, but tears have never been enough to sway the whims of fate.

The train’s bell tolls and Hori’s legs seem to give out from under her, almost like an involuntary action.

Her body snaps back to the platform on impact and takes Keisuke with her. From this angle it’s easier to see the flesh being ripped off by the combination of stone surface and friction, leaving a trail to the resting point of Hori's body. It didn’t occur to me the first time I saw this but this must be where Keisuke got those scars on his back.

As the blood begins to pool around the two of them, I notice that cola does not seem to like the company of blood.