The Kyoto Ordeal (Tales of the Other Universe Book 1)

by J. G. Taschereau

  “War?” Adam repeated.

  “It translated to this: ‘Tonight, I watch the sunset. I witness my new beginning. Bound no more, I wait at the castle. In five nights, come. In five nights, the false god’s era ends. War is declared.’ It was pretty clear it was intended for Daniel-kun.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Daniel-kun seemed upset, not angry or anything, just that way he gets sometimes, you must know it. He went into my brother’s room and started going through some of his things. That’s when Dee-san came out of my room to see what was happening. I told her about the letter, and she became very distraught. It was like she was afraid enough for both of them.

  “Daniel-kun came out of the room a minute later with his coat on. Dee-san and I asked what he was doing, but he wouldn’t say. He just told us to keep the doors locked and stay in the house, not letting anyone in except you or Albright-san. He didn’t say anything else, and before we could stop him he was out the door.”

  “He just left?”

  “Just like that. He wouldn’t even listen to Dee-san or I. Honestly, he’s such a jerk sometimes. He’s no different from when we used to talk six years ago.”

  “Well it’s not like he doesn’t have a good reason,” Adam said. “He’s probably trying—”

  “The reason doesn’t matter!” Ayumi cut in. “He should be letting us help him.”

  “I’m sure there’s more you’re not seeing here.”

  “Don’t try to justify him leaving, just because you did the exact same thing.”

  Her words cut deeply into Adam. She narrowed her eyes at him; he hadn’t realized how passionate she had gotten during the course of their discussion. He stared back speechless, unable to refute her.

  “I’m not sorry I said that,” she stated. “Because it’s absolutely true, and I’m not the kind of person to hold back my feelings because they might offend. You two, whether you are one person, or two, or probably three, you always try to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don’t think about how your actions will affect the people around you. It’s complete selfishness, and it’s clear that neither of you have changed from six years ago. I’m letting you stay here because you’re my friends and I want to help you. It’s about time you do the same for me.”

  Adam turned his head away from the verbal lashing she was giving him, but she wouldn’t relent.

  “Don’t you have anything to say to me? That’s fine, you can take your sweet time accepting what I had to say. But at least talk to Dee-san. She’s the one who was hurt the most by this. She’s sitting in the living room now waiting for Daniel-kun to come home. She’s been there since he left. She needs someone to comfort her, and I can’t do that like you can.”

  “I can’t help her,” Adam said, still not making eye contact. “I can’t even talk to her.”

  “I haven’t even seen you two together since Saturday. She really needs someone to talk to, and besides Daniel-kun she’s closest to you.”

  “I just can’t,” said Adam.

  “Well why not?” Ayumi shouted.

  “Because I hurt her,” Adam blurted. Ayumi blinked in surprise, unfolding her arms.

  “What do you mean you hurt her?”

  “She came into the room while I was still sleeping yesterday morning. She got very close to me, and I acted out of instinct. I grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the dresser. I can’t speak to her after that. She must be terrified. She must loathe me.”

  “So instead of just apologizing or at least talking to her about it, you avoided her. And you plan to keep avoiding her when she’s feeling completely alone. How do you expect to become a hero with that attitude?”

  “I’m not a hero,” said Adam. “I never said I was, and I’m sorry if you think I’m trying to be. I’ve never been able to live up to that expectation. I know that I’ll have to soon, but lately it’s been hard to be strong.”

  “Of course it’s hard,” Ayumi said. “But you just need to push through and get through it anyway. That’s what Shuya always told me.”

  “And what would Shuya tell me to do if he were here now? How can I fix everything?”

  Ayumi sighed. She walked over to Adam and gently placed her hand on his head, looking into his eyes.

  “I’m pretty sure he would say something like, ‘follow your heart, and do what you know is right.’ And he’d be right, like always.”

  “I just hope what my heart says is what is right.”

  “Have faith in yourself,” Ayumi said. Her blue eyes were like mirrors, reflecting Adam back at himself. “Everyone else does, and I do too.”

  Adam tried his best to smile, but it was forced. After all, how could he rely on faith when the one responsible for inspiring faith in an entire universe had disappeared to an unknown destination?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Backup Plan

  Seattle, Washington

  December 20th, 2004

  The sound of the morning commute flooded the Creator’s ears as he walked down the snowy Seattle sidewalk. The busy metropolis reminded him of the traffic he’d seen in Tokyo, but to a smaller degree. Cars zoomed by on both sides of the inner city street, spewing clouds of exhaust that stained the snow banks along the street with brown slush. The depressing sight was balanced by the colorful lights strung along the streetlights, spiraling up to verdant wreaths accented with ribbons.

  At the street corner, a man with a fake beard and a real gut rang a bell with gusto, calling for donations to a local charity. The Creator reached into his pockets and tossed in the spare change he had before moving on.

  “God bless you, sir!” the faux Santa shouted to the Creator. “Merry Christmas!”

  The Creator didn’t answer. His objective wasn’t to help the needy or to wish merry Christmases. He had left Kyoto abruptly with one mission in mind: to find Cody Moon.

  He pulled out a scrap of paper from his jacket pocket and read the address again. He scanned the row of apartment buildings along the street and reached one that matched his directions. The Creator looked up the side of the building, peering at the windows to try and guess which one might contain his backup plan.

  Without further guessing, the Creator walked up the steps to the door. As he tried to pull it open, he realized that it was only able to be opened with a key or by having a tenant open it remotely. Not wanting to spoil his entrance, he decided to wait for someone to open the door from inside. After all, this early in the morning most people were leaving for work.

  He pulled out his communicator and pretended to carry on a conversation so as not to seem suspicious. Not long after, a middle aged man dressed in a suit passed through the door. The Creator reached for the door as the man exited the building.

  “Thanks,” he said, pretending to leave his false conversation to offer his gratitude to the man, who didn’t think anything of the young stranger he had allowed to walk into the building.

  The lobby hummed with the sound of the fluorescent lights above his head. It was rather plain with beige walls matching the tiled floor. A few potted plants tried to boost the appearance of the room, but the half wilted leaves failed to impress the Creator. He walked passed the block of mailboxes to his left and moved to the end of the lobby, choosing to turn to the stairs rather than the elevator.

  The stairwell was as bleak as the lobby with the same monotonous hum of the lights. The Creator held his fingers to the wall as he walked up the steps, feeling the sharp bumps of the Stucco against his fingertips. It was an interesting sensation to him. After climbing up two stories, the Creator reached a door marked “3”. Pushing through, he found himself in another bland hallway. The pale yellow of the carpet tried to evoke some brightness, but the prickly white walls and plain wooden doors reflected the true nature of the dreary hallway. Not quite a prison, but not warm or kind in the least.

  The floor boards beneath the carpet creaked slightly as the Creator made his way down the hall, passing the shi
ning plaques on each door. 303, 305, 307, 309.

  309.

  The Creator froze as he reached the door, staring at the number. He understood what was behind the door, what was likely to follow if he knocked and asked to come in and talk about something important. He knew that harsh words would be exchanged. Angry words. He knew from the moment he left Ayumi’s home that it would come to this, his last resort. As much as he did not want to, he knew there was no alternative.

  He knocked.

  For a moment there was silence. The Creator raised his closed hand to knock again, but a voice called out from behind the door.

  “Just a minute!”

  The voice was female, something the Creator was not expecting. He heard soft footsteps approach from the other side of the door and saw the knob twist as the door opened slightly, being caught by the chain. A young woman peeked through the opening, showing only an eye that was obscured by strands of bright red hair.

  “Can I help you?” the young woman asked.

  Having already built up the courage to speak, the Creator addressed her.

  “Good morning, miss,” he said. “I’m not sure if I’m at the right address, but I’m looking for a man named Cody Moon.”

  Before he could even finish saying the name, the girl slammed the door shut. Momentarily stunned, the Creator tried to make sense of her reaction as he heard the slide of the chain behind the door. With great force, the door was flung open as the girl burst out of the apartment, still clad in her pajamas.

  “Oh my God! I mean, my God!” she shouted, eyes wide in shock. “I mean, my Creator! It’s you! The Creator Most High!”

  Astonished by the girl’s response and sudden outburst, the Creator chuckled uneasily and raised his hands up as if to hush her. “Yes, that’s right, but please don’t speak too loudly. It wouldn’t do well for the whole building to know.”

  The girl immediately knelt down and bowed her head.

  “Forgive me, my Lord!” she spoke in a hushed tone. “It’s just such an honor and a surprise to see you again.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Moon Fox,” the Creator replied, bringing his hands back to a relaxed position. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well here on Earth.”

  She raised her head back up and flashed a smile. “Actually, my Lord, I’ve changed my name. On Earth, I’m going by ‘Melody’ now. It helps avoid confusion.”

  “Ah, I see,” the Creator remarked.

  “Please, come in!” Melody insisted before the Creator could say another word. She rose to her feet and skipped back into the apartment, followed by the Creator. He looked around and noted that the rooms of the building were not as dreary as the lobby and hallways. The walls were painted a light bluish-grey and were mostly bare, aside from a few cheap decorations and a painted wall scroll of a bonsai tree in the living room. The furniture seemed very used, but was still in good condition, probably hand-me-downs from Cody’s family, what was left of it. Still, the apartment seemed well managed for a teen boy and a girl who had only been on Earth for a little over a year.

  “Can I offer you something to eat or drink?” Melody offered as she walked into the kitchen, pinned in between the main hallway and the living room.

  The Creator politely declined. “I hope I didn’t disturb you at such an early hour,” he added. “I came from out of state, so my time zones are a bit off.”

  “Oh, not at all,” said Melody. “I usually wake up this early anyway. Cody’s actually still asleep though. Today’s his day off and he likes to sleep in. Do you want me to wake him?”

  The Creator thought about this for a moment, but remembered the urgency of his situation.

  “That would be best,” he answered. “There’s something I need to discuss with him.”

  Melody’s expression shifted as the Creator said this, realizing for the first time since opening the door that the Creator’s appearance may not be benign.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “I’ll explain it to both of you,” he replied. “But I really must see him.”

  Melody stepped out of the kitchen and walked towards the end of the hall.

  “I’ll wake him for you,” she said.

  Before she could reach the bedroom, someone turned the corner and stood in her path. Unlike Melody, he was already dressed.

  “No need, Melody,” he said. “I’ve slept long enough already. I’m up.”

  The Creator looked down the hall at the sandy haired youth and recognized him instantly as the same boy he’d sought out a year earlier. This time however, his face was washed with fatigue. It was the face of someone who has seen war, someone who has experienced more tragedy in his short life than many ever will. With silent bitterness, his dull eyes gazed back at the Creator. This was his last resort. This was Cody Moon.

  “Oh, Cody, good morning,” Melody said uneasily. She turned back to the Creator as if to reveal his presence there, but noted that the two had already made eye contact.

  “Good morning, Cody,” the Creator said. “I hope you’ve been well.”

  “We have been,” he replied. “As well as we can be. And how have you been, Creator ‘Most High’?”

  Cody’s emphasis on these words weren’t unusual. The Baggins wasn’t the only one who was disenchanted by the Creator’s methods of running his universe.

  “Quite alright,” he replied. “Do you mind if we sit and talk for a bit?”

  “Melody,” Cody said, ignoring the request. “Can you see if we have any of that really nice tea? After all, we have a very special guest with us.”

  “Right, I’ll check,” she answered, moving back into the kitchen and out of the thick path of hostility between the two men.

  “Your hair has changed since the last time I saw you,” Cody remarked, stepping down the hall and joining the Creator in the living room. “Wasn’t it white before? Are you trying to fit in with us Earthlings better or something?”

  “I suppose you could say that,” the Creator replied. “I just want people to think of me like I’m almost one of them. I’m not intentionally trying to fool anyone.”

  “Right,” said Cody. “Not intentionally.”

  He looked back into the kitchen area as Melody rummaged through the cabinets. After a few seconds of searching she popped her head back out.

  “Cody, I can’t find any of that tea,” she called.

  “Oh, that’s right, I used the last of it a few days ago,” Cody answered. “It must have slipped my mind.” Cody stepped over to the door and casually slid on his shoes. “Well, we can’t have our esteemed guest drinking any old tea. I’ll run to the store and pick up some more.”

  The Creator raised his hand. “Cody, there’s really no need…”

  “I insist,” Cody cut him off. “Please, join me?”

  The Creator looked back over to Melody, herself now stuck in the web of tension that had spread across the apartment. She looked back at the Creator as if to say without words, “Why is this happening?” He felt no need to drag that feeling out.

  “Certainly, I can use the exercise,” he answered.

  “Good,” Cody said as he slipped on a dark green jacket. “We’ll be back in a bit. And be careful about opening the door until we get back.”

  She couldn’t answer before he left the apartment, the Creator dashing just behind him. He closed the door behind them and gave Cody a cross look.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

  “Nonsense,” Cody replied. “You are the Creator after all, you deserve the finest tea we lowly mortals can provide you with.”

  “I meant leaving the room,” the Creator clarified. “Melody should hear what I’m about to tell you too. And the high and mighty treatment you’re spouting is getting old.”

  Cody started down the hall before glancing back.

  “Melody doesn’t need to hear anything that you came here to tell me,” Cody growled. “And honestly, neither do I.”

  “So why did you br
ing me out here then?”

  Cody turned back and continued to walk towards the stairs.

  “I want you to understand the way this world works,” Cody said. “I want you to see how things are without your influence, and the kind of world that the people of today want to live in.”

  The Creator said nothing, and waited a few moments before slowly following Cody down the stairs.

  Several blocks away from the apartment, a crowd had formed along the sidewalk facing one of Seattle’s numerous parks. It was here that Cody led the Creator, who tried to make sense of the scene. Those standing in the crowd carried signs held high in the air and shouted loudly in support of some cause. He examined the signs and determined that they were here today in protest of a war, a deduction that was affirmed with a banner tied onto the nearby stage reading, “End the War NOW!”

  The Creator thought that their determination for the cause must be great to come out in the cold December morning to show their opposition to this war. Cody had no such signs, nor did he shout any of the crowd’s antiwar chants. Instead he looked over the crowd, making sure that the Creator observed the number of people who were present.

  “All of these people are here because they are against an unpopular war currently being waged in Iraq,” Cody explained. “In addition, this is just one protest in a single city. Similar protests are happening all over the country, all over the world even. All because people are tired of the lost lives, the wasted money, and political turmoil that the war is causing.

  “Earth is a lot more progressive than the Carvon I saw during that war,” he continued. “Even though we’re in the midst of war, many people are trying to find a peaceful resolution. The odds might not be in our favor, but even so, that peace is the kind of life I want for Melody and I.” He turned towards the Creator, whose eyes were still taking in the crowd. “That’s why I’m telling you right now, Creator, regardless of whatever trouble you and your universe have gotten yourself into, I won’t be a part of it.”