"Come in," Aki shouted waving him over.
The address . . . it had not reminded him of this place. The road didn't either but everything else did. He felt he was hallucinating. There was no way he was back to that house.
He turned to the statue of the fish in the fountain and its tipped-off tail thanks to his playful hands when his mother sculptured it but she had never bothered repairing it for the memories.
It really did bring back memories, painful suffocating memories. The last thing he wanted was to step into the house. He would rather have his existence disappear from the face of the earth.
He looked down at his bag. He could not remember when he had dropped it on the gravel ground. "Brother, aren't you coming in?" Aki asked from the window.
The front door opened like the mouth of a dragon ready to spit out fire. His college classmate stepped out and looked at him. "Why didn't you come in?"
