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The Great War
It was the fifth night in a row Takeru jolted awake to the thunderous roars whipped up by his parent’s storm. Although his eyes were still blurred by the specter of sleep, his ears were woke enough to catch the sharp words and murderous tone flung between his mother and his father. It froze his limbs and shook his teeth. Some words were too long and sophisticated for him to understand, but he understood enough from the tears and the screams, the heaviness that sat in his heart as he listened to the storm brewed on.
It took his mother’s sobs to unbuckle his muscles, movement returning to him the louder his mother’s anguish cry became. During the day, his mother was sunshine and smiles, bending down to wipe a smudge of dirt from his cheek. But under the cover of night, his mother’s sunshine becomes clouded by grief, and Takeru could only lay helpless as he listened to her howl out her anguish after another contentious fight with his father.
He peeked his head up and eyed his bedroom door. Much to his surprise, a slim offering of light poured through the tiniest of cracks, and with it, Takeru saw his brother pressed close to the gap, standing tip-toe and straining hard to catch sight of the commotion outside.
“Onii-chan?” Takeru called out.
His brother whipped around quickly. Even under the dim lighting, Takeru could see his brother’s eyes wide in fear, the sight so unsettling, it pushed tears to his eyes. His brother was everything he aspired to be, nothing could break him, nothing could scare him, so to see Yamato now so shaken up, Takeru thought he would rather have the floor eat him alive.
“Takeru? What are you doing awake?”
Takeru swung his leg off the bed and let it dangle freely from the edge, he rubbed more sleep from his eyes, then pressed his palms against his ears in a futile attempt to muffle out his mother’s cry.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Takeru explained.
“No?”
Takeru shook his head, then made an attempt to hop off his bed. But before he could plant his feet on the ground, Yamato had shut the door. It closed with a subtle click, dampening his mother’s cry. Right away, Takeru felt he could breathe a hundred times better. He settled back in between his pillows, just in time for Yamato to shuffle onto the bed beside him.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I couldn’t sleep either.”
Despite a heavy sigh rolling up to his throat, Takeru remained silent. It was disquieting, hearing Yamato admit to his weaknesses and limits. He wondered if Yamato knew how much he needed his onii-chan to be the land he could balance himself on, especially during these moments, when their parent’s fighting threatened to split their ground asunder.
“I’m sorry you had to be awake for this, Takeru.”
With a primal desperation, Takeru pushed his thumb into his mouth. The feel of it took away some of the butterflies in his stomach, but not all. He shrugged and nestled himself closer to Yamato, until Yamato knew to wrap his arms around him.
“I thought it was a good night tonight,” Takeru whispered, “I thought…I thought it would be peaceful”
Yamato nodded, a faraway look haunting his eyes. Indeed, the evening did start out peaceful. For the first time in weeks, his father came home from work before dinner was ready. Takeru was thrilled, everyone was thrilled. But to Takeru, what mattered most was the delight on his mother’s face when his father walked through the door. They ate together that night, his mother and father on either side of their square dinner table, with Takeru facing Yamato. He thought he could burst with happiness in between helpings of rice as he listened to his father laugh and joke with them.
It was the best night Takeru could remember in a very long time.
So perhaps this was what shattered his heart most. The near perfect night they could have had, there was no reason Takeru could think of that could lead to a fight this vicious. It strengthened the inevitability that anger and turmoil were destined to call their family home.
His mother stopped crying, but only for a moment, because next thing they knew, the screaming picked up again, followed by smashing and banging of heavy objects hitting the floor. Immediately, Yamato dislodged himself from Takeru and swung off the bed, his bare feet hitting the hardwood floor as he rushed out in a mad dash.
Now, Takeru found himself alone.
He shivered in the darkened bedroom. Beyond the open door, the screaming picked up in intensity, followed by Yamato’s squeaky voice interjecting every so often, attempting to disrupt the conflict. But despite his brother’s best effort, the war waged on, no peace treaties could be found on the war torn land of their embattled family. Destruction was inevitable.
Takeru shivered involuntarily. Without fully understanding why, fear possessed every fiber of his being, tightening and loosening all the wrong muscles, and with horror that rivaled his worst nightmares, he felt wetness radiating from the lower half of his body. He looked down and gasped, then rolled onto the floor, his body hitting the hard ground with a loud thud.
He should have felt pain, instead, he felt a peculiar emptiness gripping all of his body. The dampness seeped through his pants and onto the floor. He could already hear his mother yelling at him, and his father’s derisive comments when they inevitably discover him in a puddle of his own urine and tears. Outside, the screaming raged on, this time accompanied by glasses hitting the floor, the shattering of peace and happiness in his ragged soul.
Through tear-streaked vision, a glimpse of something shiny caught the corner of his eyes. Takeru lifted his head slightly, honing in on a discarded object beneath their bunk bed. He reached forward into the darkened space, his eyes squeezed shut in uncertain fear, the acrid smell of urine burning his nose while sounds of his parents screaming deafened his ears. But when his fingers clenched around the feel of soft fabric, everything - from the screaming and the crying, to the wetness of his recent accident - disappeared in a haze of happiness.
It was his green hat. But not just any green hat, the green hat his parents bought him on their last family outing to the beach.
Instinctively, he placed the hat on his head, his fingers traced the seams and bumps on its pronounced stitches, then the smooth face of the gemstone mounted in the centre of the hat. In spite of everything around Takeru, he was transported away from his bedroom, away from the battles being fought over their kitchen table, away from uncertainty and despair, and back to the last time he could remember them all together, laughing and at peace.
It was…afternoon, around the time he would be coming home from preschool. Except that day, Takeru remembered his father driving their family past his little school, and straight to the beach at the end of the road. Right away, his father bought them ice creams from the little old lady at a tiny convenience store. He had chosen the last fudge popsicle, while Yamato settled on the vanilla. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, his vision caught the shiny decorative gemstone nestled high on a shelf. His parents immediately cued in on the enraptured gaze of his son’s face, and silently, without saying one word to each other, they purchased the hat together and gifted it to their youngest son.
With the hat firmly on his head, he could taste the sweetness of the chocolate on his tongue, hear the waves singing out its song to them as he dug his feet into soft sand. And before him, framed against a picturesque sunset was his parents holding hands as they walked down the beach together, forever stretched before them while their two young sons trailed behind them.
This was the world he wanted to remain in. Forever.
Suddenly, his mother turned around, then much to his surprise, the smile on her face collapsed, replaced by a stern frown. She drew her hand away from his father’s grasp and reached forward, extending her fingers towards him
Takeru, he heard her call.
A sudden fear took hold, prompting Takeru to backtrack, Unperturbed, his mother advanced on him, while his father and Yamato remained behind.
Takeru! she called again.
Takeru shook his head and broke into a desperate run, all the while, his mother closed in. Only, it was no longer his familiar loving mother, her arms seem to have elongated, her fingers sharpened into claws. Takeru had no understanding of the situation, only a frantic desire for escape.
TAKERU.
With a powerful lurch, his mother took hold, her claw-like arms digging into his flesh, eliciting a choked scream from Takeru’s parched throat. He turned around in panic to find his brother and father in the distance, drifting further and further away as his mother pulled him towards the enveloping ocean.
“Takeru! Takeru! Wake up, wake up!”
Takeru groaned. That time, the voice sounded suspiciously clear, the sinister air evaporating bit-by-bit.
“Wh–what?” he managed to croaked out, and realized then that he had fallen asleep, and everything he saw was a fragment of his dreams.
He opened his eyes, blinking sleep away to find his mother staring down at him, her eyes puffy and red from hours of crying.
“Takeru, wake up,” she repeated the directive.
He obeyed robotically, turning and standing in a dreamlike daze. The hat he had on fell to the ground, and as his eyes followed its movement, his gaze caught the drying yellow puddle by his feet, and the characteristic crinkles in his clothes he knew far too well.
He blushed, while his mother shook her head and sighed.
“Again?” his mother inquired, disapproval heavy in her tone.
She led him to the bathroom, where she washed and changed him. Outside, their apartment was surprisingly dark and quiet. Takeru’s inside wringed with fear, wondering where Yamato could be this late in the night. Afterward, while Takeru sat on the toilet watching his mother scrub his soiled underwear in the bathtub, the green hat clenched in his hands, he mustered the courage to ask his mother in a quiet voice.
“Mommy…where’s Yamato?”
His mother’s face darkened at the question. She dropped her task at hand and stood up, then moved over to kneel before him. Takeru dug his finger into the soft fabric of his hat, his finger tracing the lines and seams mindlessly as he waited for his mother to respond.
“Takeru…how…how would you like to go away with me?”
“Go where?”
“I…I don’t know yet…Maybe…maybe we’ll stay with grandma for a bit first, then I’ll find a new place for us”
Takeru scrunched his face in confusion. He waited and waited for his mother to answer his question about Yamato, but she stayed silent, her blue eyes on him as she waited for him to respond. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He squeezed the hat in his hands again before asking.
“Mommy, where’s Yamato?” he asked, this time with desperation in his shaky voice.
His mother’s eyes grew wet, but she wiped at them quickly. Without another word, she moved back to the bathtub to resume scrubbing his pants.
“Mom?” he repeated, this time in a louder voice, the volume scaring even himself.
“Yamato…is with your father,” his mother finally responded, “They…went to your Uncle Kazu for tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because…because they…they decided to have a sleepover.”
“A sleepover?” his breathing quickened, the more things didn’t make sense, the more his head spun. Next thing he knew, tears blinded his vision, overflowing his eyes before they trailed down his cheeks.
“Takeru…”
“I…I want onii-chan. I…I want Yamato. Please mom, please can we go to uncle Kazu? I want to have a sleepover, too. I want to see Yamato”
“TAKERU! STOP!”
His mother’s shrill voice pierced his heart, and as sudden as the tears came, it stopped. But still, the heaviness in his heart grew, despite the smear of confusion from his current predicament, he thought he understood one thing.
Things were never going to be the same again.
He clutched his hat to his heart, inhaling the scent of ocean waves and fudge popsicles, of happiness and peace, of his whole and complete family before it was torn asunder by conflict. In that moment, trapped in a vortex of uncertainty and confusion, where pain clung to him and his family like a bad tattoo, his hat represented safety and warmth, the last hope he could cling onto for a semblance of normalcy.
He placed the hat on his head again and pulled the brim over his eyes, ducking his head low so he could cry silently. Beside him, he heard his mother resume the task at hand, sniffling every once in a while as she worked to scrub away the yellow stains from his clothes.
Perhaps she cried too, but he’ll never know.
—
Next morning, Takeru was shaken up early by his mother. Outside their bedroom window, the sky was painted a confusing pink. Takeru never knew the sky could be anything but blue and black. He watched it in amazement, then turned to Yamato on the top bunk, eager to tell his onii-chan about how the sky resembled the bubble gum they found at the corner convenience store.
But much to his chagrin, Yamato’s bed was empty. Instead of finding his brother half-asleep, he found his dishevelled blanket instead.
“Takeru, I’m sorry but we need to go.”
Takeru looked around with confusion and realized for the first time that his mother had on her outside clothes, a sweater swung over her arms. An outfit had been picked out for him, too, and hung on its hanger by the door.
“Come on,” his mother beckoned, and scooped him up and into the bathroom, where she took the lead in brushing his teeth and washing his face.
“Go get change,” she ordered, pointing to the clothes hung by the door.
He stumbled back to his room and obliged, pulling down his pyjamas in exchange for the sweater his mother laid out. As he fit his legs into his pants, he noticed his mother in the bathroom hurriedly tucking his toothbrush into a small bag.
The action took his breath away. The only times his mother put his toothbrush away was when they were going somewhere far and wouldn’t be returning home for the night. His fingers began to shake, he surveyed the room, wondering how long they would be gone for, when he could see his toys again. He wondered if Yamato would be waiting for him wherever his mother was taking him.
But then, his breathing stopped, for when his mother turned away, he realized Yamato’s toothbrush was still in its place.
“Takeru, are you done?” His mother called out.
“Yes,” he responded instinctively, just as she burst through the door.
She clicked her tongue and dropped to her knees, before yanking him violently towards her to pull his sweater off.
“You put it on backward…again. Honestly, Takeru, can’t you do anything by yourself? Yamato was already taking care of you when he was your age.”
Takeru ducked his head low, tears stinging his eyes as his mother donned the sweater back on for him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Don’t cry, Takeru, please…I can’t…not this morning…For once, act like a boy and stop crying all the time. Come on, we have to go. Our ticket leaves in an hour”
Tickets?
“Where are we going?” he asked in panic.
His mother got up and pulled him outside their room. It was then that he noticed two suitcases waiting by the door, his school backpack perched neatly on top of one of them.
“We’re going to your grandmother’s,” his mother responded simply.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know yet”
“Will Yamato be there?”
There was a long pause, during which time his mother wiped fervently at her eyes, and when she pulled her hand away, he swore he saw tears clinging to the tips of her finger.
“No,” she finally responded, before pulling him to the door.
“Why not? When will I see Yamato?”
“Takeru,” his mother heaved a heavy sign, then dropped to her knees and clenched his shoulders until he flinched, “I’m sorry Takeru…but…this is how it will have to be…at least for the next little while. Your brother…your brother has chosen your father so…it will just be you and I from now on. But…but it’s going to be okay because…because we have each other, and I promise you…I promise you I’ll always be here for you. It’ll be okay with just the two of us. I promise.”
Takeru averted his gaze quickly. His inside twisted and squirmed, and he felt an overwhelming desire to throw up on his mother’s pink cardigan. He didn’t want his mother’s promise. He didn’t need it.
He only wanted normalcy again. He craved quiet evenings in front of the sofa, family outings to the beach, and Yamato always within an arm’s reach.
Had Takeru known last night was the last time he would see his brother, he would have hugged him tighter and told him he loves him, perhaps apologized for taking the last fudge popsicle at the beach when he knew Yamato would have wanted it too.
“Can I…can I get something before we leave?” he whispered.
It took a few seconds, but at last, she nodded.
“O-okay but…quickly. We have to leave soon”
Without hesitation, Takeru ran back into his room, flinging the door open in desperation. Luckily, it didn’t take him long to locate the object of his search. It was there, tangled with his blanket, the green hat with the blue gemstone he distilled comfort from last night. He crossed the room and retrieved the hat, and immediately after the soft fabric fit around his crown, his stomach loosened and the jitters vacated his muscles. He was once again transported back to ocean waves and salty air, cultivating a glow in his heart.
It’s not impossible. One day, they could be a happy family again.
—
Years and decades later, Takeru would claim that the trip to his grandmother after his parents’ last fight would be his earliest memory in life.
It wasn’t the shaky bus ride or cold sandwiches that he remembered most, nor was it his mother sobbing quietly beside him that he could recall with mental acuity. It was that although he should be confused and anxious, he felt eerily calm, like a supernatural power had overtaken him as he watched the Tokyo buildings transition to the trees and water of countryside Japan.
He knew his family had fractured, there was no salvage from his parent’s war, but he still clutched within him a desperate whisper of hope, an unwavering belief that this was all temporary. Occasionally, his armour would crack ever so slightly, especially during moments where he thought of Yamato, when his yearning for the sturdy grasp of his brother’s hands became so compelling, he felt he would shatter and join his mother in mourning the loss of the only life he had ever known. But once he reached up and pressed against his green hat, the memory of the happy family he once had would return to him, convincing him of the delusion he would cling onto for years to come.
They were happy once, so it’s not impossible. One day, they could be a complete family again.