Don't Look Now

Chapter 2

A man flipped a worn file folder on his lap. Handwritten notes filled every line of the file, at the top of the first page read, "Matsumoto Kaji, age 10, Referred January 27, 2013."

The man's hand touched the name almost reverently as he glanced through the page. Important words and phrases are circled throughout the file.

"...Acute anxiety"  
"...Socially isolated"  
"...Possible mood disorder"  
"...Parent status -- Divorced"  
"...Communication difficulty between mother-child"

The man's hands flipped the page. At the top of this new page read, "Tsukishima Yuuto, age 8, Referred September 4, 2019." As the man's fingers moved through the notes, important words were again highlighted.

"...Acute anxiety"
"...Socially isolated"  
"...Possible mood disorder"  
"...Parent status -- Divorced"  
"...Communication difficulty between mother-child"

The man closed the folder, his hands were slightly shaking. It's been a year after the incident and he still remembered everything like it was yesterday. The sound of the gunshot, the blood on his sweater, Koushi's scream... Kaji's lifeless expression. Everything was still fresh in his memory.

He silently sat on a sidewalk bench, facing a row of apartments across the street. He looked blankly at the brown stone wall when the main door opened. Daichi was immediately brought out of his trance.

Tsukishima Yuuto stepped out of his front door. The young boy had innocent, brown eyes that seem to take everything around him, his hair, honey blonde in color, had a small patch of jet white on the side. Yuuto carefully locked the main door behind him, moved to the bottom of the front stairs and looked around nervously. The eight-year old reached into his pocket and slipped on a pair of very large glasses that looked funny on him.

Daichi rose to his feet, smoothed out his shirt, and buttoned his jacket. When he looked up, Yuuto was gone. Daichi barely caught a glimpse of the boy, running down the street, his small sneakers screeched on the sidewalk. For a second, the brown-haired doctor didn't react, but after a few moments, he stuffed the file in his bag and started running, too. He came to a hard stop at a street intersection and spotted Yuuto sprinting across the empty lot. The boy reached the doors of a building, using all his strength to push open the highly ornate doors then he slipped inside.

Jogging into the parking area, Daichi's pace slowed to a walk and then to stillness as he gazed at the building's facade. It's an old stone church. He entered it and saw a few people sitting and praying in a sea of oak pews. He scanned the area and eventually found the boy in the last row of the church. While he walked toward the boy, Daichi saw him as he played silently with a set of tiny, green and white plastic soldiers.

"Pro... Fun... Ad..." the boy mumbled under his breath, the words unintelligible. He stopped, sensing someone. Looking up, he saw Daichi staring at him. Yuuto immediately went silent as he awkwardly clutched his plastic riflemen.

"It's okay, Yuuto, don't be frightened," Daichi calmly said. "My name is Dr. Sawamura Daichi, but you can just call me Daichi-san, or just Daichi. I was supposed to meet you today, I'm sorry I missed our appointment."

The doctor waited for a response, but Yuuto remained silent.

"Mind if I sit down?" the doctor asked.

Yuuto slowly slid on the pew, giving Daichi most of the seat. The doctor sat while the boy fidgets with his toys.

"Hmmm... Your eye frames, they don't seem to have lenses," Daichi said as he stared at the boy's spectacles.

"They're my dad's. The lenses hurt my eyes."

"I knew there was a sound explanation." The doctor returned his gaze at his lap. "What were you saying a while ago, while you were playing with your soldiers?"

"De profundis clamo ad te domine."

Daichi was surprised at the boy's knowledge of Latin.

"It's called Latin, it's a language" the boy said candidly. Daichi only nodded at the information.

"Do all your soldiers speak Latin?"

"No, just this one," Yuuto held the one white soldier among his pack of green ones.

Daichi beamed at Yuuto, his eyes drifted down to the young boy's arm. The doctor's smile suddenly disappeared. The eight year old's arms were covered with tiny cuts and bruises, some almost healed, some still fresh.

"You know, in the olden times, in Europe, people used to hide in churches and claim sanctuary," Daichi said. He didn't want to ask the child about the wounds yet. He wanted the boy to feel comfortable with his presence.

"What were they hiding from?"

"Oh lots of things, I suppose. Bad people, for one. People who wanted to imprison them... hurt them," Daichi replied.

"Are you a good doctor?"

"I used to be... I got an award from the mayor once..."

Yuuto pocketed his toy soldiers and rose from the pew. "I'm going to see you again, right?"

"If it's okay with you," the kind doctor smiled at the boy.

"It's okay with me." The boy turned and went to the rear of the church. Daichi looked at him as he stopped by the exit doors and took a tiny statue of Jesus off the back table. He quietly pocketed the statue and left. The doctor just sat and stared.

That evening, Daichi turned on the light in the hallway. The house was dimly lit. He walked quietly into the bedroom where a small light fell on Koushi as he sleeps on the warm bed. Daichi moved to his side and stared. Koushi was huddled under a blanket, a wad of tissues in his hand. A wisp of gray hair fell on his soft lips. Outlined in the soft light from a bedside lamp, Koushi's face truly looked like an angel. Daichi formed a gentle smile as he stared.

He then silently went to the basement to search for old medical books. A desk sat in the corner, next to the wine racks. The room still felt unsettling, but he didn't mind. He hunched over one of the books.

"The Meridian Latin Dictionary." The title was etched on its hard cover.

Daichi sat back on the desk and opened Yuuto's file. Handwritten on the first page were his words, "De profundis clamo ad te domine."

The doctor started working through the Latin text. As he searched for each word, he jotted it down underneath the Latin. He stared quietly at the paper as he finished translating the text.

"Out of the depths, I cry to you Lord."