Dedicated to a true incident: |h|t|t|p|:|/|/|j|a|p|a|n|d|a|i|l|y|p|r|e|s|s|.|c|o|m|/|l|o|c|a|l|-|r|e|s|i|d|e|n|t|s|-|s|i|g|n|-|p|e|t|i|t|i|o|n|-|t|o|-|k|e|e|p|-|a|-|b|o|m|b|-|d|o|l|l|s|-|i|n|-|h|i|r|o|s|h|i|m|a|-|m|u|s|e|u|m|-|0|7|3|3|4|7|9|/|
Doll
To honour the spirit of remembering in order to forget.
"Thank you Yao.
We
Shall be done soon."
•
He squeezed my hand and
I smiled over my nausea,
Keeping eyes
To Kiku;
Eyes always to Kiku.
•
For doing otherwise would come as a risk.
•
Dangling above me was
The harrowed mate of a suicide pilot.
On either sides, collages
Of black devils
Regarded me with feverish eyes.
Posed
Like actors;
A play of acrimony unfathomed.
And
Jeering to my backside
Were
A throng of rapiers,
To never lap the sweetness of mortal blood forevermore;
Heaven be gratified!
•
I only came to a place
As vile
As the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum
For Kiku.
All for my Kiku,
And him for
Some national affair or another:
I knew
He
Wouldn't lay a toe on a
Single polished step of
This place
If duties had not mandated it.
•
We navigated a turn in the hall,
Chained together
Like missions in the snow.
And I
Kept my eyes
To Kiku;
Eyes always to Kiku.
•
Until a splash of
Crimson
Splattered my cheeks,
Enticing my sight without my consent.
•
And goodness forbade it.
•
The horror my eyes were forced to drink;
A nightmare revisioned!
A length of wall had been
Emaciated
To cinders and ashes!
Rubble to soot!
A brazier eternally bright
Spitting
Ambers and crimsons
Within its vicinity,
Splotching my skin and igniting something
Deeper in me
Than muscle nor bone.
•
A delta conquered by the
Rotting talons of Death,
Glowing more
Effervescently
Than a thousand dying stars.
•
And yet I approached.
Mindlessly, I approached,
Snared
By perils
Far more soul-harrowing
Than even that crumbling wall.
•
Three dolls,
Resembling
Humans gutted and stuffed.
A schoolgirl.
A little boy, and
A young woman.
All three mangled and shredded,
A tint of such peril and pity etched
Into their faces;
Their clothes tattered; covered
In streaks of mahogany;
Hair ashen;
Skin reduced to soot.
I can taste metal and ire in the air.
•
And yet I approached still.
Mindlessly, I approached still.
To the dust-besotted woman
At the centre of the apocalyptic splay.
•
She must have been very beautiful once.
•
Misty fawn eyes
And dark bangs
Cropped
To the base of her neck.
Shredded robes
And shredded skin,
The tendrils raked her stage like the
Blood did the
Memories,
Drawing essence where its cobalt
Had died into…
•
Grim familiarity.
•
I stared at the doll.
She stared at the ghosts behind me,
Face cringing (forever cringing…),
Her fingers curled with
Hesitation
Before her, as if wondering:
"will anyone remember
Japan
After the plight which had
Descended
Upon us today?
Oh mercy my Gods,
Will we be remembered?"
•
I staggered backwards.
Now
The fawn of her eyes
Were glaring into mine.
A flame darted past,
Igniting
Her pallor into that of a skeletal nightmare.
•
The screams of the damned
Pierced
My eardrums to cinders—
•
"Yao?"
•
Kiku appeared
Anxiously before me,
Blotting the doll from my sight.
Immediately
The bombs were disarmed,
Just seeing
My
Kiku.
My Kiku here
To bail me from
The horrors
Of his scythed history.
•
… This…
This is good.
•
Just keep to
Kiku,
Yao.
Keep your eyes
To Kiku;
Always to Kiku,
And see no more.
•
No more! No more!
•
"Yao?"
The brazier frayed with his hair.
Kiku staggered towards me,
Cobalt dress shirt
Trailing from his shadowed limbs.
Eyes wide with worry,
Fingers curled with hesitation.
•
No more! No more!
•
"Yao, you're scaring me!"
He cringed.
•
And just then,
Like some
Dirty joke
Of the past,
A flame engulfed his behind,
Igniting
His pallor into that of a skeletal nightmare.
•
The cackles of the damned
Echoed around me
As I slipped into velvety darkness.
"Yao!"
•
"Someone dial an ambulance, quickly!"
•
"Yao? Oh my God, Yao, this was a big mistake…"
•
"Daddy, what's wrong with the man on the floor?"
•
"Yao!" Sob. "Yao, please wake up!"
•
"Calm down, my dear. Now, what seems to be the matter with your partner?"
•
"Oh Oba-san", sob. "It's all my fault! I shouldn't have let him accompany me today", sob.
"It'd scar him again!"
•
"Kiku?"
I blinked my eyes
Blearily
To the ceiling.
The museum buckled and swayed beneath me.
•
I retreated behind my lids
Once more
With a groan.
•
"Yao!"
Kiku's cries of delight
Pierced
Through the hosanna amidst us.
"Yao",
He took my hand and
Framed it
To his fluttering heartbeat.
"Don't you ever scare me like that again.
It's not good for
You
To be in a place like this.
We'll take our leave now."
•
"Now?" I frowned,
Leaning my head against the wall
I was slumped against.
"But are you even done with
Whatever it is that
You
Needed to do, Kiku?"
•
"Never mind that".
He hauled me to my feet
With the help of
A burly grandmother.
"What matters is that
I get
You
Away from anymore potential accidents."
•
And as he leaned
Me
Against his slender frame,
I complied
Without another word.
•
But as we neared the exit,
I dared myself to
Look back.
Beyond the cockpit of
The suicide pilot's mate;
Drowned
By the collages,
By the mourning rapiers shackled to display.
A small brazier delta where the
Ghosts
Waved their soulless goodbyes to me.
•
That doll was nowhere to be seen.
We had crossed the courtyard,
When
A dot in the distance
Caught my attention.
•
"Kiku."
He stopped as I did.
"Do you
See what I see?"
•
The dot began to
Shift
Into a young anthropomorphic:
Red shirt and
Shorts.
Brandishing
A binder in both hands.
A child no more than eleven.
•
"What is it Yao?"
•
"Some kid", I murmured.
•
"What about it?"
"He's coming towards us."
"Are you sure?"
•
"China-san! Japan-san!"
The child stumbled to a halt.
Bowl cut plastered to his glistening forehead;
Breath snatched and shuddering.
•
Kiku kneeled before him
And said:
"Matsui-kun.
What is that in
Your
Hands, my child?"
•
"Japan-san,
I need your signature!"
•
The grin of an innocent youth
Plastered
On the cherubic child.
He offered his binder to Kiku,
Glancing hopefully
At the nib of the pen
Concealed
In Kiku's breast-pocket.
•
Kiku paled like a ghost
As he saw whatever the binder
Had to show to him.
•
"Child",
I laid a hand on his shoulder, to which
He twitched hopefully.
"Whatever is the matter?
•
"… Oh?"
•
WE WANT OUR DOLLS BACK!
Was etched
In vermillion red.
Beneath that,
A mishandle of signatures,
Clamouring
In a way the bland paper
Had no power—
No right—
To silence therein.
•
"I need yours too,
China-san!"
The child pointed his spindly fingers
To
A throng of workmen,
Eyes fawn and
Welling with tears.
"They won't listen to us!
None of them
Will listen to us!
If we got two nation-san's to
Sign the petition,
Perhaps they will.
•
"You can't let them take our
Dolls
Away, China-san,
PLEASE!"
Poor young Matsui
Began rubbing
The corners of his eyes.
"How else will we remember
Them
If they do?"
•
"But Matsui-kun…"
•
"Kiku",
I muttered.
•
Swallowing thickly,
I slipped the pen from above his
Fluttering heartbeat,
To inscribe
Our names at the head of the mishandle.
•
All the while,
Young
Matsui quivered with unveiled excitement.
•
"There you are",
I beamed at him.
"Now,
I hope you know what you're doing,
Young man."
•
"Ah, believe me,
We do!"
Young Matsui laughed.
"Grandpa Katsube
Will be extremely joyous when I show him this."
•
He ghosted into the surge of pedestrians,
His
"Thank you!"s
swallowed by the clamours
And cheers
Awaiting his presence.
•
But it all soon
Vanished
From plain sight,
Obscured by a metal crate
As tall as Kiku himself.
•
I watched in utter silence as
The crate,
Subservient to the dolly it'd been
Shackled upon,
Rattled grimly away from my sight.
•
Kiku, too,
Watched it go
Before
He regarded me queerly.
•
"Why did you sign it Yao?"
His voice riddled with hurt.
•
I swept my gaze to him.
Vented to the urge
To absorb his all;
Study every sweep of calligraphy
Which riddled his visage:
His fawn eyes;
The dark locks
Which limped to the base of his neck.
•
Smiling,
I tucked the pen over
His fluttering heartbeat
And silently praised
The beautiful mist of his eyes.
•
"She looked just like you."
Aside from, you know, that fact that she's a woman and Kiku's a guy-nation s'all. Nonetheless, Kiku was the first person who came up in my head when I first saw the picture of the adult woman-doll: same hair; same clothes; same time and place...
One a side note, Matsui's name is here for a very good reason.
-Plumeria-hi