Driftwood

Discovering Atsuko: Part 1 of 3

12:35pm, Lunchtime, Wednesday, outside the old science block.

Faint beams of sunlight impaled the foggy morning air, cloaking the skin of anyone it touched with an aura of relaxation. To Akira, this was the perfect concoction of weather conditions. His confidence rose in whatever he did under the calm sun.

That confidence was needed immediately.

Going off the info Mrs. Akinawa gave him the day earlier he strolled across the path to the library, which had remained untouched for many years, to the displeasure of many bookworms. (Thanks eBooks...)

Suddenly he halted and gazed around the spot he stood dormant on. To the right of the path a coarse patch of grass and dirt separated two blocks, while to his left a white wall with a chip in the dried, rough paint lined the old science block; something was unsettlingly familiar about this place.

Akira twisted his upper half towards the wall and analyzed the chip in the paint. "No, no way" He murmured, exploring the mark with his fingers. His head leaned in towards the wall, his mouth hung ajar as pieces of the past recollected in him. Before much else could be thought of he pushed back from the wall and straightened up, gradually pulling his sight down towards a swollen brown patch in the grass just beside him. Now he was getting it, the chip in the wall, the nostalgic atmosphere turned melancholic, he knew a bigger clue was yet to be uncovered, literally.

Akira jolted as a memory came back to him. He knelt down and eyed the protruding patch of dirt. "I swear, if it's there..." He said, abruptly cutting himself off and digging his hands into the dirt. He pushed them further into the pile until they were completely absorbed, and then tore the pile apart; a green, reflective paper was partially uncovered.

His eyes enlarged and a gasp jumped from his mouth, knowing what piece of the past he had uncovered. He grabbed the paper and pulled it from the dirt. It wrapped around completely rotted flower stems, their petals long gone after at least a year in the soil.

Akira's legs extended and he stood again; the resurrected and unwelcomed memory spawned by the flower bunch further squeezed his grip on them. Frozen, he stared coldly down at the bunch in his hand.

It all came to him again, that ill-fated moment when life flipped one hundred and eighty degrees, and his nose caved in from a feisty fist. "Holy hell, it's been that long?" He said, slapping his wet forehead. His eyes shut and wrinkled as the event replayed in his head.

First the offering of the flowers to a girl, and then the panic attack that consumed her, followed by a swing perfectly angled at Akira's nose. He recoiled onto the white wall and cupped his uneven, bleeding nose, dropping the flowers onto the concrete, and wailing in the sting of an out of place bone. The girl, whose face Akira's subconscious left veiled, stomped up from the grass and clamped his chin, slamming his head onto the wall. "Guys did this to me before and I'm not falling for it this time!" She shrieked, closing her nails deeper into Akira's cheeks.

"I didn't know! I thought we were close!" He stammered, taunted by the potency of her close up breath on his nostrils. "Let me go! I'm sorry! Please!"

The girl threw another fist at Akira, who moved his head just enough for her to miss and clout the wall, knocking a chip out of the paint. "Argh! F*ck you too! And don't ever think of seeing me again!"