[Video]
[It's another one of those patchy video-memories, the ones that skip from time to time, that take seconds to flicker through a life in third-person.
The video feed snaps on, showing a much younger Eisuke in a hospital bed. There’s a set of IVs hooked up to a catheter on his chest, and he’s flipping slowly through a picture book. It’s sunny outside the window, and he keeps glancing towards it. He’d much rather be outside -
-- and the view switches, and he’s in a kitchen, maybe seven years old, standing on a stool and washing dishes while a woman with light brown hair cooks dinner, and a highschool-aged girl (obviously Eisuke’s sister, they have the same eyes) works on homework at the table. He turns around, grinning as he prepares to throw a sponge, and --
-- he glances across the street on the way back from elementary school, checking both ways before he starts across, one hand wrapped around the strap of his backpack. The truck comes out of nowhere, and he’s thrown across the street with a startled cry, hitting a lightpole and thudding limply to the ground as the people on the sidewalk gather with startled expressions --
-- waking up in the hospital again, his sister sleeping limply in a chair by the bedside --
-- middle school, coming down the stairs in the morning, and his father is talking with a man Eisuke vaguely recognizes as one of his co-workers.
“Eisuke, you’ll be in his care for a while. Take care of yourself, okay?” It’s not unexpected, and Eisuke nods. There’s something vaguely strained about Eisuke’s father’s expression, as he picks up his suitcase and walks out --
-- the memories have caught up to Eisuke’s current age, and he’s considering a photograph in a frame. It takes a few seconds, but he shrugs and places it back on the bookshelf.
“You’re going through with this?” The man from before, standing in the doorway, watching.
“Yeah. No reason not ta. I’ve got an apartment, ‘n I’ll start highschool at Teitan on Monday.” There’s a light Osakan accent to Eisuke’s words, and he’s grinning as he picks up a duffle bag from the floor by his feet. “Thanks for everything.”]
The video feed snaps on, showing a much younger Eisuke in a hospital bed. There’s a set of IVs hooked up to a catheter on his chest, and he’s flipping slowly through a picture book. It’s sunny outside the window, and he keeps glancing towards it. He’d much rather be outside -
-- and the view switches, and he’s in a kitchen, maybe seven years old, standing on a stool and washing dishes while a woman with light brown hair cooks dinner, and a highschool-aged girl (obviously Eisuke’s sister, they have the same eyes) works on homework at the table. He turns around, grinning as he prepares to throw a sponge, and --
-- he glances across the street on the way back from elementary school, checking both ways before he starts across, one hand wrapped around the strap of his backpack. The truck comes out of nowhere, and he’s thrown across the street with a startled cry, hitting a lightpole and thudding limply to the ground as the people on the sidewalk gather with startled expressions --
-- waking up in the hospital again, his sister sleeping limply in a chair by the bedside --
-- middle school, coming down the stairs in the morning, and his father is talking with a man Eisuke vaguely recognizes as one of his co-workers.
“Eisuke, you’ll be in his care for a while. Take care of yourself, okay?” It’s not unexpected, and Eisuke nods. There’s something vaguely strained about Eisuke’s father’s expression, as he picks up his suitcase and walks out --
-- the memories have caught up to Eisuke’s current age, and he’s considering a photograph in a frame. It takes a few seconds, but he shrugs and places it back on the bookshelf.
“You’re going through with this?” The man from before, standing in the doorway, watching.
“Yeah. No reason not ta. I’ve got an apartment, ‘n I’ll start highschool at Teitan on Monday.” There’s a light Osakan accent to Eisuke’s words, and he’s grinning as he picks up a duffle bag from the floor by his feet. “Thanks for everything.”]