Blood Red Memories

It was the epitome of a quaint kitchen; warm and inviting, with tastefully simple décor. The scene was completed by the wafting smell of eggs cooking, happy tuneless humming overlaid with sizzling, and a stout tawny-haired woman cooking on the stovetop, gazing absentmindedly out a window to the sunrise. The early morning stillness was the picture-perfect definition of serenity.

Until a bloodcurdling, earsplitting scream ripped through the air. The woman wasn’t startled in the least, and responded only by pursing her lips and sliding a perfect semicircular omelet from the skillet and onto a plate. The scream broke into gasping, distraught sobs and the woman was still impassive, floating about the kitchen to clean. Finally, after minutes more crying, the house finally fell dead silent. The woman began pouring juice in a cup, completely undisturbed by the commotion. It was all a part of a bleak routine.

A petite girl stood in the doorway unsteadily, eyes bloodshot from crying. Her dark brown hair was in disarray from tossing and turning all night. "Reina-chan, you're awake. Ready for breakfast?" The ritualistically pleasant greeting had met her every morning since she could walk on her own. The brightly smiling woman had been Reina’s resident nanny for many years, even before living in Suna, not that Reina could remember back that far.

Reina sat down at the kitchen table, which was up to her chest. Most children would find it just about at their stomachs, but she was small for her age. Reina took no notice. Kaiyo placed an omelet with extra salt and a glass of juice in front of the petite girl before sitting down across the table. She was always awake at the crack of dawn and had breakfast ready by the time Reina rolled out of bed.

"You woke up screaming again," she said with concern but not making eye contact. It was the same worried look Reina had been receiving for two years. Kaiyo always had the demeanor of a scolded child when she said this, apologetic by force of habit and knowing that it would upset Reina.

Picking up chopsticks, she merely replied with a quick nod. After a moment of frustrated contemplation, Reina greedily dug into the warm yellow eggs. She tried snatching the salt shaker, to add more salt, but Kaiyo merely ‘tsked’ disapprovingly and moved it out of her short arm’s reach. She smiled, shaking her head as Reina gave her a mean frown and continued eating. Kaiyo sobered back up, remembering she was still mid-interrogation.

Kaiyo pursued, in a calming voice, "It was the same one again, wasn't it?”

Reina frowned unhappily. The only memory she had of her mother was a gristly nightmare, haunting with such poignancy, Reina felt as if she sat in the cellar every time she closed her eyes.

"I wish you'd tell me about it. I might be able to help..." Kaiyo said trailing off. She had made the same offer every day of Reina’s life, but the answer always remained the same. Silence.

Reina glared darkly. Most five year-olds couldn’t intimidate an older woman, but, tiny as she was, Reina mustered so much resentment in that one look, Kaiyo couldn’t meet her eyes. Silence enveloped the room, as Reina slowly unclenched her fist and relaxed her hunched shoulders.

"Right. Sorry. Well, when you're done Hiram requested I take you with me to the market. You never like what I pick out," she said, leaving the room with a weak smile.

Reina replied by dumping her plate and cup into the kitchen sink that was almost as tall as her (the ledge was to her chin). She walked the spacious hallways back to her room to get ready for the day, rushing through the morning routine of brushing teeth before sliding on a dark red shirt with a brown pair of shorts and sandals, all a bit too large for her small frame. She rushed out the door after quickly after checking that her brown braids, courtesy of Kaiyo, were still intact.

They walked to the market in silence, Reina following Kaiyo like a miniature shadow, never breaking the rhythm of steps across the hot grainy street. She kept her eyes low and never made a sound as while following Kaiyo in and out of the shops and stalls. Kaiyo always told people, “She’s just a bit shy,” but Reina had an unnatural aversion towards anyone and everyone and had never spoken a word since she was three.

Reina nearly jumped out of her skin, as an old man suddenly said, "What a wonderful little girl. I always say children should be seen and not heard. Why if my little grandson was like her…" The shopkeeper had complimented with a warm smile, noticing her hiding shyly behind Kaiyo. Reina nodded to him, but then hid behind Kaiyo again.

"Why thank you," Kaiyo replied while paying the shopkeeper. She unclasped Reina’s hand from her skirt, moving over so that she stood beside her, “Say thank you, Reina.” She bowed slightly to the old man before jogging to catch up to Kaiyo.

Shopping always seemed to take forever, to Reina, who spent every minute on edge, jumping whenever someone brushed her in the crowded streets. Thankfully, by the time they were done, Kaiyo wasted no time getting home. She especially hurried past a dark house at the end of the road.

Reina enjoyed walking past it, because she didn’t have to worry about any people around her; the streets always became eerily deserted and silent after the chaos of the crowded market. Her childish logic couldn’t explain everyone’s aversion, and she always looked at the house with an admiring wonder, to Kaiyo’s discomfort. They continued at a fast pace, Reina taking four hopping steps for each of her caretaker’s two, until they reached their house a block and a half down.

Kaiyo let out a sigh of relief then sent Reina “out to play”. The request had never been successful, as she would merely sit and let sand drizzle through her open fingers to be carried away by the wind. Perhaps Kaiyo believed one day she would play with children in the neighborhood; Reina wanted no part in their play and was more than content to sit quietly in the shade.

A few times, it was offered for her to join in, but she merely stared emptily, as if not comprehending what playing could possibly be. Eventually, they gave up and avoided the house, slightly disturbed by the girl’s hollow gaze that seemed to follow them but only see right through them. The same children would come to believe she was actually a spirit, and never there at all.

Today, she sat on the steps staring out at the featureless sand dunes on the horizon, without particular thought as the wind pushed her braids back and forth. Suddenly her line of sight was blocked. Reina blinked in surprise. Who would be in front of her house? The question was answered as her curious gaze fell on a young boy across the street with dark red-brown hair, head bent mournfully as he dragged his feet through the sand with a light scrape.

He glanced sideways, meeting her stare in the corner of his eye as he walked past. The boy had cold steely blue eyes that radiated even greater sadness than his melancholy posture and gait. They lingered on her questioningly. Reina opened her mouth, as if to call out to him. Something in the depth of that great sadness had mesmerized her. There was a wordless exchange in that moment, one ghost acknowledging another.

Reina couldn’t really tell what “it” was; she just knew that she felt a bond with this wandering boy. Kindred spirits, trapped in a lonesome world with only their own sadness for company. Until now. Reina was suddenly jerked backwards, and began to flail in confusion across the doorjamb and into the house with a loud slam.

Kaiyo stood, panting against it, as if there was an army on the other side about to tear it down.

And then she turned on Reina, “What’s wrong with you?!?” She clasped her shoulders, “You won’t speak, you barely eat, and walk around as if you’re only part there, and then you cavort with demons!” Kaiyo said it like it was a great and foul scandal, forbidden. Reina stared hollowly at her.

“Why won’t you speak?” she cried, shaking Reina. “We’ve never done anything wrong, raised you perfectly, and then you act like this! Say something!” There was nothing but silence, and an empty gaze from cold, steely blue eyes.

Kaiyo released her, suddenly shocked by her own actions. She tried to calm herself a moment before saying in a quiet, shaky voice, “I am sorry Reina. Terribly sorry.” She began to tremble slightly, “please, just go to your room.” Reina obeyed, never glancing once over her shoulders, even as the woman began to sob. She merely drifted silently away, still gazing emptily as if she really were a ghost.