They were bright smiles that day. They usually were, when they were all together. And it had admittedly been much too long since he'd last visited his home in the little seaside town that he'd grown up in. The scent of the sea, the coolness of the breeze, the caw of seagulls, and the weightless clean of the air. He had missed all of it so much, but most especially his family, and that was the thing he thought about when they presented the sailboat to him. That was the thing that had brought him to tears. Not that he had dreamed of something like this his entire life, but that he was overwhelmed by how much he loved them — his mother and his father, his siblings.
And he had thrown his arms around them with a larger-than-life smile, sobbing out "thank yous," and they had all laughed, but were misty-eyed too. And Ren was in everyone's faces with his camera phone, insistent upon capturing this moment, and no one stopped him.
"Well now," said his father, first to pull himself back together and prop his hands on his hips. "Shall we give her a test run?"
They'd all jumped on board. His mother and his siblings loaded their picnic supplies while his father pointed out all the little details and specific nuances about his boat that he needed to know, and when they finally released the sails and set out to sea, he was full of such excitement, he could hardly breathe.
He fell instantly in love with the feel of the wheel beneath his palms, with the hum of the engine, with the strong flutter of the sails. Namiko was perfect, every bit a child of the sea as he'd dreamed she would be, and she sailed across the water with such effortless ease.
The day had been utterly cloudless. His parents had checked the forecast to be sure the weather would be perfect, and there was nothing but endless stretches of blue both above and below them. For a solid hour, they sailed under the afternoon sun, noticing new features about the boat, talking about how his family had struggled to keep it a secret from him for five months. His brother had nearly given it away at least three times, and Makoto had laughed and admitted he hadn't caught on at all.
They ate the lunch that his mother had prepared — wanpaku and egg sandwiches, onigiri, salad with ginger-carrot dressing, and ripe peaches — and it tasted all the more delightful with the spray of ocean waves in the air.
It was two-thirty, when they saw the clouds in the distance, and his parents had commented on it, said it was strange, because they were sure the weather in the area was supposed to be perfectly clear for the next three days. But either way, they as a seafaring family were all well-versed enough in their knowledge of sailing to call it a day and turn the boat around immediately.
When living so close to the coast, you always had to be aware of the ocean's temperament, understanding that it could be perfectly at peace and harmless in one moment, but deadly in the next.
They should have had plenty of time to make it back to the docks. So when it so suddenly started to rain, he and his father ended up exchanging looks of confusion.
"Ren, Ran," his father shouted over the crash of waves spraying up against the sides of the boat. He was already turning quickly for the mast. "Give me a hand with the trysails. Makoto—"
"Stern to the waves. I got it!" He spun the wheel, aiming toward the right side of the storm, giving them less resistance against the rising waves, though the ride became rockier with every passing second.
His mother had already collected the life jackets and was throwing them over Ren and Ran's heads as they helped his father tie down the main sail and raise the much smaller trysails to combat the wind. She ran back across the deck to toss the last life jacket at Makoto, who caught it with one hand, then she moved quickly to secure everything down.
He only had one arm through the vest, when they all flinched and the twins let out a yelp as a booming crack of thunder split the sky alongside a jagged flash of lightening. Again, he and his father exchanged glances, and without a word ran to switch positions.
"Go help Mom get everything tied down, and stay low!" Makoto said, the moment he ran up to his siblings and gave the tack line a final securing yank.
They flounced off immediately and he hurried to the bow to drop the anchor, continuously squinting through the sheets of falling and splashing water up at his father, who was carefully turning and adjusting the angle of the boat, sending him silent signals when he was good to give the chain more slack, and when to lock it.
"Where are we at?" his father shouted after the fourth drop, his voice barely making it across the howling winds.
"Sixty!" Makoto shouted back, holding up his fingers for a visual.
"Leave it there!"
He made sure the lock was secure and shrugged on the other side of the vest. The water dropped from underneath them as the waves pulled back and the boat rolled dangerously to the side, making them all slip on the incline and lose their balance, sliding toward the starboard side. Makoto latched onto the forestay, glancing up in time to see Ren catching both their mother and sister and losing his feet from beneath him as he pinned them to the deck. His father struggled to even the boat, trying to keep his balance at the same time.
The water came down, threatening to turn the whole boat over, before it dropped again and threw them all the opposite direction. The life vest was ripped off of his shoulders, never having been secured in the first place, and washed overboard, though he didn't give it any mind.
"Aki!" His mother's voice was dampened by the roar of the sea, but he could hear the pinch of distress in it and was already on his feet and stumbling toward the rest of them.
"How bad is it?" his father shouted back.
"I'm fine!" Ren said, though when Makoto was close enough, all he saw was that his brother's leg was gushing blood. His vision was too obscured by the rain and the thick dark that was only getting heavier as the sea became that much more unsettled to make out the injury in detail.
"It's bad!" their mother called back, bracing herself as best she could while she pulled Ren's foot up into her lap. "Ran, get the kit!"
Ran was up and running for the lock box that the first aid kit was secured in. Makoto moved to meet her there and give her a hand, but just as they ran up on the port side, the boat jolted as though hit from underneath. They both hit the rail and Ran was too late to find a grip on it before the water tipped them on their side again. She plunged headfirst and Makoto snatched her ankle with lightning reflexes, heart jumping up into his throat.
The breath gasped out of him, half with relief, half with dread, because what if … And she was still just there, exposed to the elements. She could get whisked away at any moment, right out of his hand, and be lost to the depths of the sea.
He pulled, and the strap of her sandal snapped under his thumb. His heart dropped fully out of his gut in the split second that her shoe slipped free and she was out of his grasp for a fourth of a breath, but he lunged out further, catching her again, and this time he was sure not to let her slip away.
He pulled again, and he grabbed the back of her vest with his other hand, and then he was able to get his fingers around her arm, and then she was safe again — pale-faced and out of breath, but safe.
"Makoto!"
He snapped his gaze up, saw his father leaving the wheel, saw the terror of dread in his eyes, and when he glanced back over his shoulder, he had just enough time to push his sister out of the way before the boom of the mast swung archaically around and struck him in the head, knocking him clean over the rail and into the frigid water below.
His only thought, the moment that he hit the surface was How did that happen? The boom should have been secured, and he'd been sure that his eyes had subconsciously double-checked that when he had tugged on the tack line, but that was apparently irrelevant now.
Where just a moment ago, he had been brimming with adrenaline, hyper-conscious and focused on every movement that his family made, now he was suddenly still, and couldn't seem to will himself to panic, let alone swim.
"Nii-chan!" screamed his brother's voice, and he tried to look for it, tried to find him with his eyes, but he saw so very little. He could barely keep them open, and the sting of saltwater didn't make it any easier, but he wasn't that far from the surface, because he could just barely make out shapes.
None of them were clear. They were all just different shades of black stacked on top of each other. The boat, towering waves, dark clouds, rain, and maybe a shape that could have been his father and his sister, clinging to each other to stay balanced as they hung over the rail.
"Makoto!"
His father's voice sounded so far away.
"No, gods! Aki, do something! Makoto! MAKOTO!"
Maybe that other shape that appeared was his mother, so full of panic. He didn't know how to respond to them, though he knew they were trying to get his attention so that he could do his best to save himself. They'd already thrown a lifeline overboard, that was probably that thing that was floating just above him, but he couldn't get himself to reach for it.
His father was about to jump over the rail. He could barely see it, but he knew. He knew because he and his father were so very much alike, and that's the same thing he would have done if anyone else was in the same situation.
He was only seconds too late though, and Makoto didn't know how to read what he was seeing through all the blurs of black and the haze in his gaze, between the cracks of his consciousness which was slipping very slowly away. It was just another shape, but distinctly different from all the others.
Massive, and the blackest black that he could comprehend. It looked very vaguely like a giant, but with no definitive features other than two glowing white orbs that, if not naturally confused for blinding lightning, could have been eyes in any child's imagination. The way that it rose higher than all things was threatening, and something that was too quick to comprehend came crashing down on top of the boat, splintering it to pieces.
He could hear his family screaming, and he was too slow to avoid the falling debris. Something heavy and sharp landed on his chest and pushed him down deeper, forcing bubbles out of his lips and the current whipped him away.
It hit him the moment he looked down and saw Haru holding Ran's shoe. Crashed back over him like a fifty-foot wave, and he could feel himself drowning immediately. Every single second of that day struck him with blunt force, like they were hammering the details and little nuances into his memory so that he would never forget again.
Namiko was a white sailboat with blue trim. The name was printed in black curling letters on the starboard side. The onigiri had been filled with tuna, and the wanpaku sandwiches were loaded with bacon. The twins had come out of their rooms accidentally matching that morning, and had yelled at each other to change. His mother had sighed about how worn down Ran's favorite sandals were becoming. His father had done that dad thing and tossed a hideously-colored Hawaiian shirt over his white t-shirt, and the twins had groaned about it being embarrassing. They'd had salmon for breakfast.
And now he couldn't stop remembering, even as it squeezed the air out of his lungs with every passing second. He couldn't do anything but cry, hardly aware of anything other than how much it hurt — how much it hurt, how much it hurt. And even though he continued to shake his head in denial, wailing into the sand, he knew there was no way to get the truth off of his back.
It was going to stay there — for eons, even after he himself passed on and left his ghost behind. They were all gone.
They were all gone.