Japan was a culture richly steeped in heritage and tea. Although, in truth, every country had its own treasures and gems hidden in each city and town. Stories tucked away in the most unlikely of places. Events that could unfold in front of your eyes with a single look into a memory.
It was easy for Gene to blend in, seamlessly speaking the language and dialects. It was a skill he had honed from being a medium, since he was more easily able to learn a language after being possessed by a spirit that had spoken the language. Being possessed by a linguist was interesting, as could be assumed.
Even though he knew his wife would disprove, he was finding a soft spot for the Japanese street food. The fine food that he ate at the restaurants with his group was good, too – food just was – but he felt most like a tourist by eating street food. He wanted to feel like a tourist. He didn't belong here, even though he fit in. The last week and a half had been a mixture of eating, working, exploring shops (buying souvenirs), eating, sightseeing, and taking plenty of pictures.
He stood at the edge of a cross walk, trying to call his brother about something that had happened with a spirit earlier that day. Noll only wanted to hear about the parapsychology parts of his trip, and didn't care much about what was going on in their heritage country.
"Noll? Can you hear me?" the blare of the city was the same, not matter where you were, but the clouded skies definitely deterred the normal walker.
"Yes, but why don't you just call me when you're back at the hotel? I'm busy at the moment."
"Noll, name a moment that you're not busy."
"I'd rather not."
"Maybe when you're sleeping."
"I'm busy then, too."
Cars zipped by against the road as he waited to cross. His brother was certainly not making the boring task go any faster. He admitted feeling a little weird crossing the road today, the feeling of wanting someone to hold your hand as you cross, because they would somehow keep you safe against any harm.
A cluster of people were around him as they also waited, their own heads filled with their tasks and fears and dreams of today. Rain started drizzling softly, and a few umbrellas went up.
One girl next to him with shaggily cut brown hair lifted her suitcase up to save herself. It looked like she hadn't had enough time to do her eye make-up correctly, since it was a bit smudged. She was wearing a suit with an open jacket. It was a tad wrinkled, but still smart and presentable.
Gene still had fun talking in English around groups of people, and she gave him a small smile as he talked to his brother but Noll didn't talk back.
"The haunted teahouse was the most interesting this week. The ghost was haunting a teapot."
As the rain steadily picked up, the light turned green. The girl went first, probably thrilled with the concept of getting home and out of the rain after a long days work.
Gene wasn't thinking about hurrying across the road, since he was being a bit wary and was a little distracted, anyway.
It had been ten years since he had planned his trip to Japan. Ten long years that held everything that years should. Happiness, hardships, moments, problems, dreams and things… He remembered holding his daughter for the first time. The fact that Noll actually came to his wedding, even though he hid in the back of the sanctuary. He visualized Luella's face when it lit up with a bouquet of roses. Speaking at one of Martin's lectures. Teaching Eliza to ride a horse. Reading to his daughter to help her sleep at night. That one ghost that affected his very soul, and he had released silent tears all through the week.
All these memories were very prominent when he heard the car screech on the road.
The girl wasn't walking fast across the road in her high heels – he would believe that she wasn't used to them yet – and was behind the group. She dropped her suitcase and stood shock-still in the rain as the car swerved towards her.
Instinct was a powerful thing in a human being. The urge to protect what wasn't even yours. To give your life for a love one. To protect another person that you had never met before.
Gene dropped his phone as he ran across the street, shoving her out of the way as he replaced her in the path of the car.
…
Noll listened to the sudden quiet of the phone going dead. Contrary to popular belief, silence was actually very loud.
…
"Noll, don't look so glum. The sun is shining for once in gloomy England. Smile."
Gene knew that he was pushing his brother, especially since it was only more likely that Noll wouldn't smile if you told him to. Gene smiled enough for the both of them.
They walked the paths in the park. Silent most of the time. Other times Gene speaking rapidly to fill the dense quiet between them.
"Gene, did you have something you wanted to talk about? You seem on edge." They had stopped by the pond, Gene staring out at it absent-mindedly.
He turned to his brother, and gave a faint smile. "Do you remember what you said that day, ten years ago about me not going to Japan?"
"No."
"Well, fine. You had mentioned that maybe there was a reason why some things don't happen. Maybe coincidence. You had mentioned luck. But maybe it really is more complex than we can comprehend."
Gene leaned against the rail that was designed to block people from the pond. He pulled out his phone and held it in his hands without looking at it. "What if there is something else? Do you remember what you said about something too great to be thought about?"
"Why do you expect me to remember everything I've ever said?"
"Because you're my brother of course. Anyway, I've been thinking about what you've said these last ten years. It occurred to me that people interchange fate and destiny, they become entwined into one word, but what if they're actually different? What if destiny is what the soul's path is when fate is your conscious path?"
"What is your point?"
"Maybe fate can be 'consciously' changed – that's where you get coincidence and luck – but destiny cannot be? That's why even if something has been changed it's still bound to happen?"
Noll was silent as Gene moved closer and held up his phone. "So, take a picture with me. Smile."
Two mirror images. They had grown out of their baby faces and into smooth jawlines and appealing young adult features. One was smiling like life was perfect, one frowning like he wasn't even sure why he was here. The faces of comedy and tragedy.
But which mask belonged to whom?
Even though Noll didn't smile, Gene still took the shot.
…
Noll's thoughts of that afternoon from a week and a half ago were interrupted by the ring of the phone, which he knew would very shortly connect Martin to the Japanese police force, bearing the unfortunate news of his son.
…
"Are you okay? Ma'am!"
She could remember the time that her mother had fallen ill, the feeling of helplessness as a soul made a decision in front of her.
Tears washed her eyes, but her own soul did not feel cleansed. Her heart thudded so hard that she could only breathe in silent gasps. Her chest hurt from the spasmodic breaths.
Why would this happen? The feeling of falling when no one is there to catch you. She could still remember the imprint of his eyes when she looked into them at the time he was talking on the phone. They were the impression of some grand knowing. His eyes were rich and deep, glancing at her with a look that said he remembered her.
But how? Why was he so familiar to the aching in the back of her mind?
"What's your name, Ma'am?" The officer couldn't console the woman. Tears flowed from her eyes, her tears black from mascara and dirt. Her outfit was rumbled and dirty. Her sobs were wheezing and she could barely speak between hiccups and rubbing the tears and rain out of her face. "Taniyama," she said, "Mai Taniyama."
