Umi
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Notes: Updating as promised. I know exactly how this story is going to go now; I have it all outlined. It moves extremely rapidly and won't be too many more chapters from now. Maybe just one.
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Chapter 3
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Mako sighed, and absently brushed the mud off his legs. It had dried enough so it came off easily. "Lovely place, this swamp is," he mumbled.
Aura, who was busy waving away the clouds of mosquitoes hovering around her head, didn't answer. She simply gave a tired nod. Eventually, she asked, "Where were we planning to go? We obviously can't stay here much longer. Ow!" Annoyed, she flicked the bug off her arm.
"Actually…" Mako hesitated. "Well. I originally began my travels in hopes of finding my father."
"Your father?" she asked, her hand falling back into her lap. "What about- where is he? I mean, why are you looking for him? What happened?"
Mako fell silent. That was a good question. Where had his father gone? Why hadn't he come back for his son?
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"Stay still, son!" his father cried in a voice that betrayed none of the fear Mako was feeling. Quickly, his father lashed the ropes around Mako's body, securing him tightly to the ship.
"What if she goes under?" Mako asked, trying to be strong like his dad. But his voice shook nonetheless.
"She won't," his father said, clutching onto the mast. "She's a good ship. And you're stuck good to her. Just be brave, and the storm will pass!"
Mako tried to be brave. He wanted, more than anything, to please his father. But his eyes grew huge as the wage crept up behind them. He tried to shout a warning, but the fierce wind carried his voice far away. His father must have seen the look on his face, because he turned just in time to catch sight of the wall of water. He instinctively ducked, but it was futile…
The water washed over the ship, drenching Mako and leaving him spluttering. He shook his head fiercely to get rid of the water in his eyes, and grinned nervously up at his father, expecting to see the older man laughing.
But he was gone…
Hours later, after the storm had passed, a Coast Guard ship had picked Mako up. The boy was sobbing and shouting, trying to break the strong rope knots that bound him to the ship. When he was freed, two guardsmen had to restrain him from jumping overboard.
"No one could survive that storm," they told him, eyes shadowed. He refused to believe them. After all, the lifeboat was gone. And they hadn't known his dad. He was alive! He was out there somewhere!
"But as the years passed, I grew less certain," Mako said quietly, tracing idle patterns in the mud. "Why didn't he ever come find me? If he were alive, he never would have left me alone. I kept thinking that he must have been stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere, unable to get off… but something doesn't fit." He blew out a sigh. "And then a few years back, I received a Duel Monsters card in the mail. A very special card. The Legendary Fisherman. I lost it in… well, someone I respect has it now. But I was convinced that it was from my father. Except that it doesn't make sense. If he was well enough, and had the access, why wouldn't he pass on any more of a message?"
These things had been turning over and over in his head ever since that fateful day on the boat. They kept him up all of this night, too.
And then the next day, Mako and Aura left the swamp, traveling across Africa and up through Asia. They were looking for clues, leads, anything… and they were also making their way slowly to Japan. After all, they didn't have any better paths to choose from at the moment, and Mako wanted to return to Domino. Some of the most important events of his life had occurred in that city, and something was telling him that he should go back there.
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There was a small kitten in the middle of the road that immediately scampered up to Aura and Mako, meowing loudly to be pet. Mako uncertainly sidestepped it, but Aura knelt and scratched its ear to placate the animal.
"I'll go into the main hall," Mako said, continuing on. Each seaside town had a main center, where the leading individuals would gather and keep records, discuss politics, etc. He'd been questioning everywhere for news of his father, giving the most detailed description he could. So far, he'd met with nothing.
Aura stayed in the warmth of the sun, basking in it: it felt wonderful. The kitten's meowing was incessant. He began to lick Aura's hand, then a low moan from a nearby hut startled the both of them. The cat bolted and Aura rose to her feet again, looking around in bewilderment.
"That's just Ishmael," a warm voice sounded, and she turned around to see its source. Two middle-aged woman were walking down the street, looking sympathetically at the hut.
"Ishmael?" Aura asked.
"Well, no one really knows his name," the second woman said in a hushed voice. "The poor dear. He washed up in this town nearly ten years ago, him and a splintered piece of driftwood. He had amnesia, you know. Can't remember a thing. Can't even remember his own name."
Aura remained silent, staring at the two women. It couldn't be.
"And now he's sick, the darling," the first woman said sympathetically. "He caught some dreadful cold last winter, and he's never really recovered. I think he's on his last leg. The local healer thinks he'll be dead by morning."
She closed her eyes briefly. "Ishmael?"
"That's what we took to calling him."
"What… what does Ishmael look like?"
The women exchanged glances, then shrugged. "Well, let's see. He's very tall, and he was very broad when he first washed up. The sickness has caused him to lose a lot of weight. He used to have this lovely, deep, blue-black hair, but that's gone white as he's aged. But those piercing eyes are the same, though heaven knows they've been closed more often than not lately."
Everything suddenly felt cold and dark. She took a tiny step toward the building Mako had just entered, but the door swung open and he emerged. Aura strained for a glimpse of his eyes, but his head was turned deliberately away from the curious bystanders. He didn't seem to be moving, so rigid was he holding his upper body, but his legs carried him quickly down the street and into the hut.
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A small crowd had formed around the hut when Mako emerged at two in the morning. Someone had started a small fire, and people crowded around it, sharing stories about 'Ishmael'.
"He helped me and the wife build our first house," a man was saying, his voice strained. "With his own two hands, he helped us start it up, and never took any payment. We'd never'of made it on our own without him."
"I remember when he first got sick and couldn't fish anymore," a young woman in black robes said, her eyes red and puffy. "He was flat on his back for a week. He didn't want us to bring him any food, but mom insisted…"
"Then all the ladies started preparing his meals, taking it in turn," an elderly woman sobbed. "We cared for him through all his lonely life…"
Aura sat slightly apart from the group, feeling numb. She'd gotten to know Mako well; it was inevitable, traveling with someone for several weeks. And just as he never really believed his father was dead, so she stood by him, firmly predicting that someday they'd find each other again.
And just as they finally reunited, Mako's father was dying and maybe still hadn't recovered his memories. Why was life so unfair?
"Sssh…" several different people said as the door slowly creaked open and Mako slipped out. He walked away from the group, head bowed down.
"Is he…" someone started to ask, and Mako stopped walking. He resignedly joined the circle, drawing his legs up to his chest protectively.
"He's gone."
There was a moment of silence, and then the tears started. The men Mako had originally met, the ones who told him where to find his father, moved around him, roughly clapping him on the back. He shook his head, hot water prickling at the corner of his eyes.
"Did he remember who you were?" Aura's soft voice asked, and everyone hushed, waiting to hear his response.
Mako held his breath. "I think… in the end… he might have.
"I hope he did."
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Mako wanted to leave the village as soon as possible. He stayed long enough to help bury his father, and the townspeople gladly gave him leave to sort through his father's possessions. He spent a whole afternoon looking at the hut, just staring at his father's bed and clothes and furniture- all carved by the once-large and ruddy hands. Aura entered at one point to find him staring at a rough wooden figurine, sculpted by his father, turning it over and over in his hands. It was a boy, riding atop a giant fish. She quietly exited again after that.
But in the end, Mako didn't take anything except for that figurine. He allowed the women who had fed and cared for his father throughout the end of his life to go through his possessions and distribute them properly. He and Aura left early one morning, walking on the dusty road with only their modest packs.
He hoped to make a quiet exit, but they ran into the same young woman who had been sobbing at the camp side. She was standing off the road slightly, staring through the tree branches at the distant sea.
"I meant to tell you," she said in a rush. "My parents wanted to let you know, but they forgot. I remember something about your dad. When I was young, about eight or nine, a strange thing happened. Ishmael had a couple Duel Monsters Cards. One day, he woke up and came to our house, asking for an envelope and a stamp. He put one of the cards in the envelope and scribbled something on the front. It looked like an address. He stuck the envelope in his pocket, then walked down to the ocean and threw the rest of the cards in the water." She took a deep breath, clearly nervous. "And I never found out what he did with the envelope. When we asked him the next day, he couldn't remember anything."
The girl paused, taking in their identical white faces. "I just thought you should know," she finished meekly. "I don't know if it was important."
Later that afternoon, Aura tentatively brought the incident up.
"I hope Joey is taking good care of the card," was all Mako would say, gazing uncertainly at his hands. Then he took a deep breath.
"At least I know why my father never contacted me after all those years." He bowed his head.
"Are you glad you got to see him? Even though he died?" she asked, knowing his answer.
"A thousand times over," Mako said determinedly. "I love my father. He was my hero. And that's not going to change anytime soon. Like Joey said… I don't need a card to remember my dad, because I'll never forget him in my heart."