~Tatsuyama/ past~
My name is Chiamaka Ayana Fukushima but you can call me Yana. That's what my friends call me. I have been living in Japan for ten years now. I was born in the states and remained there until I was seven. My Parents met when my father was in the states during his college years. Since then, they have dated and married.
At the time I was born; my father's family and friends never came around; something about my mother not being Japanese. My mother's side of the family was a different story. They could have cared less. I saw my grandparents from my mother's side everyday and they loved me as grandparents should. They taught me about the African heritage that flowed through my veins. It wasn't until my seventh birthday, that my parents got a call from my Japanese grandmother. Ojīchan was sick and needed my father.
Since that call, we have been living in the home of my Japanese grandparents. Their home has been in the family for generations. Behind it is a tall mountain called Tatsuyama. It kind of looks like a monster leaning over as water pours out of its mouth. When the sun hits it just right, it looks like a dragon breathing fire.
At first, my grandmother wouldn't look at my mother or I. She never invited us to meet her friends. I guess she was embarrassed. It wasn't until Ojīchan died, a breakthrough happened. My mother was there for Obāchan, even when she didn't want her to. One day, I came home from school and saw my mother and Obāchan crying in each other's arms. I knew then, things were about to change.
Ten years later, my mother, Obāchan, and I are closer than ever. Every morning at 5:00am, Obāchan would come and get me from my room, to bath in the dragon's fire. We would make our journey through the woods, and to the mountain base. There we would enter a cave that led us to the very pool the mountains water poured into. During our journeys, Obāchan would teach me Japanese, and of the Japanese culture.
"Obāchan?"
"Hnn?"
"Why is the mountain called Tatsuyama?"
She sat on a nearby rock and watched as I poured the water over my head. She pondered something that felt like ages. She took a deep breath and looked up to the top of the mountain where the water came out.
"There is a story, about a great dragon demon who ruled the lands. He ruled his dragon people with an iron fist, and protected them with a father's heart. When he died, he transformed into a mountain that would forever provide life for his people."
I looked at my grandmother trying to read the expression on her face. She has told me stories before but she would give me a smirk to let me know she was kidding around when the story wasn't true. She didn't have smirk on her face this time. She looked to the top of the mountain as far as she could see and had a glossy look in her eyes.
"Obāchan?"
"Hnn?"
"Do you think dragons where once real?"
"Very much so my dear."