Chapter Text
***
As far back as Reiko could remember, the sky was always clear, bright, and blue. She drew that version of the sky a lot growing up.
The first time was in elementary school. The teacher had taken the younger kids out to play in the massive grass field behind the school building after the AC had gone out in the classroom. For the kids who didn’t want to play in the fields, she gave them each a paper, a color pack, and a prompt.
“Draw something you found spectacular.”
The sky was spectacular.
Reiko scribbled the blue crayon to cover the entire paper. She didn’t need any other shade than that vibrant blue. The skies were always beautiful in Gifu Prefecture—never, ever dull.
When Reiko was eight years old, her mother, Reyna, had taken the day off work and brought her on a hike up Mt. Kinku to Gifu Castle. She remembered the sights vividly. It was autumn, and the leaves had turned into a stunning orange shade. They admired them as they passed by. They got lost a few times during the hike, but after long hours and dedication, they arrived in one piece at the rare sighting of Gifu Castle.
However, Reiko wasn’t all that impressed with the castle like Reyna thought she would be. She didn’t care about it. What Reiko couldn’t get enough of was the view of her home and the never-ending sky behind it. That was the second time she drew that vibrant sky that had her captured in an artist’s gaze.
She asked her mom if her father liked the sky as much as she did. If he saw it as brightly as she did.
Reyna frowned for a second before smiling. “He used to,” she replied. “Not anymore, Reiko.”
***
Once high school began, this sentiment never changed. She never asked her mother about her father again after that. All she knew was that he was alive, and his name was Kishibe. She searched his name but to no avail, as she knew no surname to add to the search. Besides, she didn’t care about knowing more about him, having more important things to concern herself with, such as her first year.
During her first year, she joined the art club at her school, where she painted various landscapes, with a significant focus on the sky in her pieces, of course.
By this time, her mother worked a lot, taking on more and more shifts at the hospital where she worked as a nurse. Despite the workload, Reyna always made time to look at her daughter’s paintings and to praise them and Reiko.
The sky was always clear, bright, and blue. Never dull. Reiko was delusional when she thought this. It was a lie. A veil of naivety. The sky wasn’t always vivid. She learned this as the clouds came in—no longer white and fluffy, but now ashy and smoky, tainting her whimsical version of the sky.
The storm front came in.
During spring vacation, Reiko and her childhood friend, Emi, found refuge under a bridge. They sought shelter from both the rain and prying eyes, concealing themselves while smoking. Reiko smoked with a vast amount of shame, knowing the consequences of getting caught. However, she just wanted to have fun that day, so she disregarded the doubt and her mother’s lectures when she came home smelling like smoke.
Emi accompanied Reiko to the point where their paths diverged. She asked her to pass on greetings to Reyna, emphasizing a big smile that showcased her braces adorned with pink and blue bands and her freckled cheeks.
Reiko nodded. She didn’t expect to see her mother when she unlocked the door, and as expected, she didn’t. She couldn’t remember her mom mentioning if she was working a double shift. Reyna did it so often that Reiko shrugged it off whenever she went to tell her. Even later, Reiko couldn’t bring herself to remember if they’d talked about this shift. She couldn’t recall the last conversation. In the moment, she was just happy not to get caught smelling like smoke. So she instantly showered, did laundry, and called it a night.
Sleeping was easy that night. The next morning was eerily relaxing. No school and no mom. Where was her mom anyway? If Reyna worked a night shift, she was usually on the morning train home by the time Reiko woke up. So Reiko thought she’d wait for her. While waiting for her mother’s keys to jingle, she fell asleep again. It was okay; Mom would be there to wake her up.
Except, Reiko woke up to the sun’s setting light gazing through the windows. It was weird for her mother not to be home by now. To not have even called or texted. Reiko panicked, and her thoughts raced. The realization hit her: the last time she saw her mother was yesterday morning. More than 24 hours ago.
Scared, she called her mother’s job. That’s when time stopped. The sun crept down behind the sea. It was all that moved, all that Reiko noticed—her shadow moving alongside it.
“We’ve been trying to contact you.” The words stained her mind. Kimura Reyna was dead.
A patient whom Reyna was treating following a devil attack unexpectedly transformed into a fiend. The fiend didn’t take her life; it was swiftly neutralized. However, during the encounter, the fiend transmitted a disease to her, and she succumbed to it before treatment could be administered. The sequence of events unfolded so rapidly.
Her mother died like it was nothing.
Reiko was almost mad at her for dying. She felt selfish. How could she die when Reiko needed her? She had no one but her mother.
Reiko was alone at the worst moment of her life. She had no family or friends to comfort her when she was told. She sunk to the ground curled tightly into a corner, and cried until the sun was gone and the moon replaced it. The tears didn’t stop until the sun came back. Reiko hoped her mother would have too.
Upon the school learning about the incident, they exerted every effort to assist her. Reiko resided with Emi and her parents, who became a second family to her. In those initial days, Reiko couldn’t fully grasp or appreciate their support. She felt like an empty shell, devoid of her true self. She cried every night at the realization that she’d never hear her mother’s voice again.
The sky was now so dark. Even when it was day, it felt like night. Reiko’s sky was now colorless.
After a few weeks, spring vacation was long over, but Reiko didn’t go to school. She was drained and busy. Somehow, the school had gotten in contact with her father, Kishibe, and he was going to take custody of her. He lived in Tokyo. Reiko was conflicted about moving from Gifu. Part of her didn’t want to leave, while the other side wanted nothing more than to escape.
Reiko gathered everything she could carry, with Emi and Hsiao lending a hand. They held onto the items she couldn’t bring, keeping them safe until the next time they would see her. Reiko’s heart cracked when she said goodbye to them.
***
Kishibe paid for the train ticket.
Reiko didn’t know what to expect when she arrived in Tokyo. She didn’t know what to expect of her father. Didn’t know a thing about him. Throughout the train ride, she either coerced herself into an uneasy slumber or indulged in a cigarette in the bathroom.
When she arrived, Kishibe was easy to find. He didn’t fit the mold of a traditional Japanese man. Towering over her by about a foot, he held a sign lazily displaying her name. He looked rugged, with scruffy facial hair and a horrifying stitched scar running across his left cheek from his mouth.
Once she was a few feet away, he casually dropped the sign to his side and retrieved a flask, swiftly downing its contents before exhaling.
“You’re short,” he stated, looking down at her. “Guess you got that from Reyna.”
The mention of her mother made Reiko’s eyes sting.
Kishibe didn’t push her to respond. “She put in her best efforts raising you; I can see that,” he added. “I’ll take care a’ you now.”
For a moment, Reiko glanced up at the sky. It wasn’t blue today—it was gray, heavy, and uncertain.
***