Misora Yotogi
The Forktailed Devil
I was six when I first met him.
Misora Yotogi.
Though I've only just remembered him.
Back then there were only four of us.
Us evacuees I mean, we were moved faster due to our families and their connections, good ones, but we didn't know that back then, all we knew was what we'd been told, that we were taken away from our home because of the ShinRa and were here to be kept safe. The people here were good, though they worked for the Electric Company they'd helped push our innocence as purely victims in the war, and so this strip of land, just over the horizon from home, became a safe zone, though our adults were always treated with the utmost of suspicion. We four had guards, two each, but the twelve that followed over the sea didn't have such escorts, and in their first week or so the enmity that was felt by a minority of the habitués was made known, though it died down quickly enough, in hindsight I suppose whoever was 'in charge' at the time stepped in. He must have commanded great respect.
The first time I saw was on the walk home with Qui, the daughter of the owner of Turtle Paradise -or rather, to where our foster families lived, our two escorts walked behind us, silent, strong, unsmiling- she pointed him out to me, Look, she'd said, See that man over there, I'm glad we got out of school quickly, I was hoping to see him, isn't he strange? I didn't see what was so strange about him, so I said so: Qui, I don't see that, why is he so strange? Qui was older than me by two years, and we weren't really friends, but we were staying in conjoined houses so we walked home together, she was more perceptive than me, and taught me a lot about noticing things: about people, about situations. But look at him, she pressed, I've watched him at weekends too, he only shows up for a short time, see! There he goes now; he'll be back in a day or two though!
What does he do?
I didn't know at first, she answered, lowering her voice as he walked past us in the opposite direction, But now I think that he watches The Fork Tailed Devil, and she pointed towards Wutai, barely visible now as little more than a flash of sun on steel, the huge ShinRa vessel, known to us only by its nickname and terrible visage looming over the mountains towards the towns, pushed onwards on its terrible mission.
It didn't appear the next day, and neither did its watcher, indeed neither was seen for quite some time. The week ended and a new one began, aged, died away. I didn't know it at the time, but I had been witness to the last War-Flight of the greatest airship to pass through the hands of the ShinRa, and she was currently in Junon, being refurbished as a private vessel. Yet more weeks past and in that time other children from the besieged Wutai joined us –others had gone to the peaceful town on the cliffs of Cosmo Canyon- and the small village of ad hoc houses and apartments scattered around just five miles out from the foot of the rocket gantry continued as if life had never been better, and for many here, that was indeed the case.
A month past and then the man showed up again.
The second time I saw Misora Yotogi, and the first time I saw him ias/i Misora Yotogi. Sprawled on his back, balanced on the top of a dividing wall, his fingers tangled and tugging in his light hair, he gazed upwards with an almost sorrowful smile on his thin lips, one I would one day become accustomed to, his bright blue eyes stared longingly upwards, tracing the paths of the clouds, white and fluffy, like cotton-balls in the otherwise clear sky, that was the thing about this place, though storm clouds sat over the mountains on the horizon, the skies here were invariably clear. As we -Qui wasn't with me, she was ill and being catered to by her foster mother, but the guards were still flanking me- drew closer, he looked up, appearing somewhat spooked as he eyed us up, Afternoon all, he nodded to us, and I beamed back, Qui was right in saying he was odd, but there didn't actually seem to be anything wrong with him per se, I moved to step closer, meaning to be polite and introduce myself, but he jumped up, looking painfully guilty, and backed away nervously.
Three weeks past, I didn't see him again.
Qui claimed she saw him walking out through the fields, that the little red plane that flew over commonly was his.
The third time I saw Misora Yotogi he looked like an angel.
Hoi! Comeback here! The boys behind me called, they were older, they lived here but had been away at boarding school, Little kid's fast! I heard one say, but it only made me go faster. A snake shimmered through the brush, caught in beams of sunlight through the unusual rain clouds, the tidal river! It's depths murky and swirling as the sea water rushed up it's mouth and up across the flatlands. I squawked and turned sharply, avoiding a wet fate, for now at least, the boys were catching up and I didn't know what they were going to do when they caught me!
I felt hands grip my shoulders and I screamed, I didn't see who grabbed me until I was flying through the air, then I saw them laughing, Go on! Swim back to where you came from little ninja! Then the murky water closed over my head. As I was swept under all I could think about was how stupid I'd been to trust anyone outside of Wutai, especially at a time like this, although at the age I was at the time, I don't suppose that was a major factor in its self. When I surfaced, spluttering and coughing, the rain that had been pouring all day had started to let up; it was a fine mist that I barely registered, that I did at all in that situation always confused me. I struggled against the strong current, but I was no match for the sucking waters. I was going down for the umpteenth time when my arm hit something and I instinctively clung to it, a tree branch, salt bleached, lodged in the bank.
Hay! Hay! I looked up, squinted against the spray, illuminated from behind, his damp hair shining in the sun, the man who gazed at the sky with such longing looked like an angel, he was running towards me, shrugging off his anorak as he came…
I don't remember what happened, I think maybe I passed out, it was very cold, but I woke up and was in the care of a young woman. Misora Yotogi wasn't there; he was working on the rocket according to the woman. It was only a few months after that, and I might add that those two boys who threw me into the river were severely chastised, that there was an incident with the huge rocket, my dad, worried at my safety if I stayed there moved me to Cosmo Canyon…
***
…I watched through the mizzle, the huge lamps of the airport illuminated him from behind, his ashen hair glowed like a gloriole, his tired face was drawn into a guilty smile, and I frowned at him, but followed him towards the huge airship, our escape from the navel port, it loomed above me and made my blood run cold, I scowled upwards at The Fork Tailed Devil, and refused to believe my Cloud Watcher was the angel of death that had plagued our lands a decade ago.