The Girl by the Sea (Countryhumans AU)

Ghost Stories

Written: May 16, 2024

With purpose and determination, North and South begin gathering driftwood and sticks from the beach. Once they return with an ample supply, Japan adds fire-starting liquid to a pit of rocks and ashes within a small pit at the beachfront. As the twins toss the dry wood into the pit, I strike a match and toss it in, the fire bursting into a flickering flame within the makeshift fireplace. We sit around the fire, our gazes fixed on the dancing orange and yellow blaze, waiting for the right moment to begin the seance.

South pulls out a bag of marshmallows from his backpack, grinning sheepishly. The juxtaposition of the impending seance with the frivolous gesture of marshmallows creates a dissonance that makes me chuckle. Perhaps there's a small part of us that still yearns for innocence and simpler times, even in the midst of this dark endeavor.

None of us can resist. We gobble down the marshmallows, almost forgetting about the seance. The fire crackles and pops as we consume the marshmallows, their sweetness melting away any lingering tension. For a brief moment, we simply savor the simple pleasure of eating and being together. But as soon as the last marshmallow is gone, reality crashes back in, reminding us of what we are here to do.

I throw some aromatic herbs into the flames and join hands with my siblings. I take a deep, shaky breath and say, “We are here to contact the spirit of Dai Nippon Teikoku.” The fire crackles and smoke flies up. "Otō-chan, are you with us?" I speak again, my words carrying a mixture of trepidation and hope. For a few taut seconds, silence is the only response we get. Then, faintly, a soft voice begins to echo from the fire.

The voice, though barely audible, seems to emanate from the flickering flames. It's a mix of whispers and crackles, barely discernible as words. North and South strain to make sense of the faint sounds, while Japan sits in silence, her expression tense. The voice grows louder, and we begin to distinguish fragments of syllables and sounds that form words.

“Children.” Father’s figure takes form in the flames, smoke billowing off him. Our eyes widen in astonishment as Father's apparition materializes in the flames before us. The smoke curls off his form, giving him an almost ephemeral quality. North stares at the spectacle, a mixture of fascination and apprehension in his gaze. South is visibly unnerved, while Japan remains stoic, studying the smoky figure intently.

“Otō-chan, can you hear us? Can you see us?” I say, my voice quivering. The smoky figure seems to nod slightly, the curling smoke shifting in what could be interpreted as a gesture of assent. North inhales sharply, still trying to make sense of the sight before him. South clenches his fists, struggling to make sense of the otherworldly encounter. Japan, though she tries to maintain her composure, can't help but feel a shiver run down her spine.

North, his voice harsh and filled with urgency, interrupts the silence of the moment. The tension in his tone betrays an underlying anger and resentment that has simmered for a long time. "We need to talk!" he repeats, his gaze fixated on Father's smoky form.

The smoky figure of Father remains silent, its ethereal form pulsating gently in the flames. The moment hangs heavy as we wait for a response, the weight of our collective history and emotions pressing down upon us. North's impatience grows, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Why are you the way you are?” North shouts, his voice drowned in apprehension. We stand there, our eyes glued to the smoky figure, anticipating the response. South and Japan glance at each other, their unease growing. The air around us feels thick with tension, as if the weight of our history and Father's actions hangs in the space between us. North's outburst has opened a floodgate of questions and emotions, leaving us all on edge as we wait for Father's answer.