KIRO’S STORY / CHAPTER 13 OF 36
Frame
by hasira · about 14 min read
The shop was still closed.
Susie noticed it only after they had been inside for a while.
No customers.
No lights in the front except the ones Kiro had switched on.
The sign on the door still said CLOSED.
She looked at it.
“Wait.”
Kiro was putting the record back into its sleeve.
“What?”
“Why is this place closed anyway?”
Kiro's paws slowed.
“It's Thursday.”
“Yeah.”
“And you're here.”
“Also yeah.”
Susie leaned against the counter.
“But nobody else is.”
Kiro looked down at the record.
For a few seconds, he seemed much more interested in getting it perfectly back into the sleeve.
“I'm not really working right now.”
Susie waited.
Kiro sighed.
“I took some time off.”
“Vacation?”
“Not exactly.”
He put the record away.
“Personal stuff.”
Susie's expression changed slightly.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Kiro rubbed the back of his neck.
“The owner knows me pretty well. I've worked here for a while.”
He glanced around the little shop.
“I was good at it.”
Susie smiled slightly.
“Was?”
“Am.”
“Better.”
Kiro rolled his eyes.
“He knows I've been having... problems.”
He didn't explain what kind.
He didn't need to.
Not after last night.
“So he told me to take a month.”
“A month?”
“Yeah.”
“That's actually pretty decent.”
Kiro nodded.
“Paid too.”
Susie looked surprised.
“This little place can afford that?”
“Barely.”
Kiro smiled.
“We don't make a lot. Enough to keep going.”
He pointed vaguely toward the window.
“Tourists help.”
“Tourists buy records here?”
“Tourists buy fucking everything if you tell them it's old.”
Susie laughed.
Kiro smiled.
“The owner said he'd rather pay me to disappear for a month than have me completely destroy myself trying to work.”
Susie looked at him.
Kiro immediately frowned.
“His words were nicer.”
“I assumed.”
“He likes me.”
“I can see why.”
The answer came too easily.
Kiro looked at her.
Susie was already looking through another crate.
His ears moved slightly.
He looked toward you.
Don't.
Not now.
He turned back to the shelves.
Susie pulled out another record.
Then suddenly stopped.
“Oh.”
“What?”
She put it back.
“You showed me your thing.”
Kiro blinked.
“My thing?”
“The shop.”
“It's not mine.”
“You know what I mean.”
Susie stepped away from the crate.
“I should show you mine.”
Kiro stared at her.
The silence lasted just long enough.
Susie narrowed her eyes.
“Photography.”
Kiro's face changed.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You absolutely thought something.”
“I did not.”
“Your face is terrible at lying.”
Kiro smiled.
“Okay. Photography.”
“I need to grab my cameras first.”
“From where?”
“My house.”
Kiro stopped smiling.
Susie noticed immediately.
“My house, Kiro. Not a basement.”
“I know.”
“You looked scared.”
“I'm not scared.”
“Right.”
Kiro looked toward the door.
“Is your dad there?”
Susie paused.
Then smiled.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“That's what this is.”
“It's not anything.”
“Kiro.”
He sighed.
“I don't know. Going to someone's house is weird.”
“You literally let me sleep in yours.”
“That's different.”
“How?”
“It was my house.”
Susie stared at him.
Kiro realized how stupid that sounded.
“...Yeah, okay.”
“My dad's out anyway.”
Kiro looked at her.
“Out?”
“Working.”
His shoulders relaxed before he could hide it.
Susie smiled.
“There.”
“What?”
“You did it.”
“Did what?”
“Relaxed.”
“Shut up.”
Susie's house wasn't far.
Kiro still felt strange walking inside.
Not bad.
Just aware of everything.
Shoes near the entrance.
A jacket that clearly wasn't Susie's.
A mug left beside the kitchen sink.
Little signs that another person lived there.
Kiro didn't ask about her father.
Susie didn't explain.
She disappeared upstairs.
“Don't steal anything.”
Kiro looked up after her.
“I work in a record shop, not for a fucking pawn shop.”
“Just checking.”
Kiro stood awkwardly in the hallway.
There were photographs on the wall.
Some were landscapes.
Some streets.
One showed Susie much younger beside a woman with similar eyes.
Kiro looked away before she came back.
Susie returned carrying a bag over one shoulder.
An instant camera hung from her paw.
Kiro pointed at it.
“That's old.”
“Still works.”
“Polaroid?”
“Yeah.”
She lifted the bag.
“Digital one in here.”
“Why both?”
Susie shrugged.
“Digital if I actually care about getting a good photo.”
She raised the instant camera.
“This if I want one.”
Kiro nodded.
“Fair.”
Susie looked him over.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“The forest.”
Kiro stared.
“The same one?”
“Daylight this time.”
“How adventurous.”
“And no storm.”
“You're removing everything interesting.”
“You're welcome.”
The forest looked completely different during the day.
Yesterday it had been shadows, rain and fading light.
Now everything was visible.
Wet orange leaves covered the ground.
Red ones clung stubbornly to some branches.
Pines stayed dark green between them.
Water still hung from everything after the storm.
The old railway line cut through it all.
Grass and moss swallowed most of the tracks.
Susie stopped almost immediately.
Kiro kept walking another few steps before noticing.
“What?”
She was already raising the camera.
“Nothing.”
Click.
Kiro stared.
“Did you just take a picture of a puddle?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It looked nice.”
“It's dirty water.”
“Beautiful dirty water.”
Kiro shook his head.
“You collect rocks.”
“Minerals.”
“Exactly.”
“Not the same thing.”
They kept walking.
Susie photographed everything.
A broken section of track.
Leaves gathered inside an old rail joint.
Water hanging from the spiderweb.
An abandoned sign half hidden behind bushes.
Kiro watched her crouch in the mud just to get a better angle.
“You're going to destroy your jeans.”
“I've done worse.”
“You have no respect for clothing.”
“It's fabric.”
Kiro looked personally offended.
Susie laughed.
A few minutes later, Kiro heard the instant camera.
He turned.
Susie lowered it.
Kiro froze.
“...Did you take a picture of me?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“You were standing there.”
“That's not a reason.”
“It's literally how photography works.”
Kiro walked toward her.
“Give me that.”
“No.”
“Susie.”
She held the camera away from him.
“You looked nice.”
Kiro stopped.
His expression changed immediately.
Susie noticed.
“...Or I can delete it.”
Kiro looked at the camera.
“You can't delete a Polaroid.”
“Good point.”
“Why would you use that one?”
“Because I wanted the photo.”
Kiro looked away.
His ears lowered slightly.
“I don't really like pictures of myself.”
“I figured.”
“Then why did you take one?”
Susie thought about it.
“Because you weren't posing.”
Kiro looked back at her.
“You were just looking at the trees.”
She shrugged.
“It looked nice.”
Kiro stared at the little square slowly developing in her paw.
He could already see his shape.
Orange-brown against wet autumn colors.
He felt weird looking at himself from the outside.
Too exposed.
Too real.
Susie noticed.
“You don't have to look.”
Kiro immediately looked again.
“Didn't say that.”
“Okay.”
She didn't push.
The photo went carefully into her bag.
They continued.
They left the tracks eventually.
Susie knew a smaller path farther into the forest.
Kiro didn't.
That bothered him slightly.
“How many times have you been here?”
“A lot.”
“Alone?”
“Sometimes.”
Kiro looked around.
“You know there are probably murderers here.”
“You're here.”
“Exactly.”
Susie pushed his shoulder.
Kiro smiled.
The path opened into a small clearing.
One tree stood farther away from the others.
Old.
Crooked.
Most of its leaves were already gone.
A thick branch stretched out over the clearing.
An old tire hung from it on a rope.
Susie stopped.
“Oh.”
Kiro looked at her.
“What?”
“That.”
She pointed.
“That's good.”
“It's a tree.”
“You're learning.”
Susie walked toward it.
The tire moved slightly in the wind.
She stood beside the trunk and looked back at Kiro.
“Take one.”
Kiro blinked.
“What?”
“A photo.”
“Of you?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the camera she was holding toward him.
“No.”
Susie frowned.
“You've been complaining about me taking pictures of you.”
“That doesn't mean I want responsibility.”
“It's one button.”
“That's still responsibility.”
She held it out.
“Kiro.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
He took the instant camera carefully.
It felt strange in his paws.
Susie moved back beside the tree.
“Like this?”
Kiro looked at her.
“You're asking me?”
“You're the photographer now.”
“I've been a photographer for eleven seconds.”
“Work faster.”
“Fuck you.”
Susie smiled and leaned lightly against the tree.
The tire hung a little behind her.
Kiro raised the camera.
He looked through the viewfinder.
Susie.
Tree.
Tire.
Orange leaves behind her.
The framing wasn't terrible.
He moved slightly to the left.
“No, stay there.”
Susie stopped.
Kiro adjusted again.
Then looked through the viewfinder.
And everything changed.
Susie was gone.
Kiro stopped breathing.
The tree remained.
The tire didn't.
Something else hung from the branch.
A body.
His body.
Kiro stared.
His own legs hung still above the ground.
Head tilted wrong.
Arms loose.
Tail hanging beneath him.
The rope disappeared somewhere above his neck into the shadow.
Two figures stood underneath.
Black.
Featureless.
One had both paws against their face.
The other looked upward, reaching toward him.
Crying.
Or screaming.
Kiro couldn't hear them.
He couldn't hear anything.
Not the forest.
Not the wind.
Not Susie.
Nothing.
He kept looking through the camera.
His hanging body moved slightly.
Back.
Forward.
Back.
Like the tire had.
One of the shadow figures dropped to their knees.
The other reached higher.
Kiro's claws tightened around the camera.
YOUR FAULT.
His hanging face slowly turned toward him.
Kiro couldn't move.
Couldn't blink.
Couldn't lower the camera.
“Kiro?”
Nothing.
The body swung.
“Kiro.”
Far away.
One shadow looked directly toward him.
“Kiro?”
Closer.
The hanging version of himself smiled.
Kiro's breath stopped completely.
“Kiro.”
A paw touched his arm.
Reality slammed back.
Kiro jerked so hard he dropped the camera.
Susie caught it before it hit the ground.
“Whoa.”
Kiro stumbled backward.
His eyes went to the tree.
Empty.
Just the branch.
The rope.
The tire.
Moving slightly in the wind.
Susie stood between him and it now.
“Kiro?”
He stared.
“Kiro, look at me.”
His eyes moved to her.
She looked worried.
Really worried.
“What happened?”
Kiro opened his mouth.
Nothing.
Susie took a step closer.
Then stopped herself.
Giving him space.
“Was it like the party?”
Kiro froze.
She remembered.
Of course she remembered.
His paws were shaking.
He looked at the camera in her hands.
Then at the tree.
He could lie.
Nothing happened.
Just got dizzy.
Bad memory.
Tired.
Anything.
Susie had already seen his arms.
Seen him panic.
Seen him cry.
Seen him talk to something she couldn't see.
Kiro swallowed.
His throat felt dry.
“Yeah.”
Susie's ears shifted.
“Yeah?”
Kiro nodded.
“Kind of.”
She waited.
Kiro stared at the tire.
It was only a tire.
Just a tire.
“I saw something.”
Susie's expression changed.
“What?”
Kiro didn't answer immediately.
His claws extended slightly.
Then retracted.
“I don't know how to explain it.”
“Try badly.”
Kiro looked at her.
Then almost made him smile.
Almost.
He rubbed his arms through his sleeves.
“Sometimes...”
He stopped.
Started again.
“Sometimes things change.”
Susie stayed quiet.
“Not actually.”
Kiro looked around the clearing.
“I know they're not actually changing.”
He swallowed.
“But it doesn't fucking feel like that when it's happening.”
“What changes?”
“Everything.”
He looked at the tree.
“Sometimes it's memories.”
A pause.
“Sometimes I don't think it is.”
Susie's eyes moved briefly toward the tree too.
Kiro noticed.
“At Rin's birthday...”
He rubbed the side of his face.
“When everyone went dark.”
Susie looked back at him:
“You remember that?”
“Pieces.”
“I thought you just...”
“Froze?”
“Yeah.”
Kiro nodded.
“I didn't see the room anymore.”
His voice became quieter.
“Everyone turned into these black shapes.”
Susie didn't interrupt.
“I couldn't understand anyone.”
He stared at the ground.
“I thought they were all looking at me.”
His tail curled closer to his leg.
“I knew where I was.”
A pause.
“Kind of.”
“But you couldn't react.”
Kiro shook his head.
“No.”
Susie looked toward the camera.
“And just now?”
Kiro went quiet.
He could still see it.
His own body.
The shadows beneath him.
He almost lied again.
Instead:
“I saw myself hanging from that tree.”
Susie's face emptied.
Kiro immediately looked away.
“Yeah.”
Neither spoke.
The tire creaked quietly.
Susie looked toward it.
Then back to Kiro.
“There were two people under me.”
His voice shook slightly.
“I couldn't see who.”
He rubbed his paw against his sleeve.
“They looked...”
He stopped.
“Worried.”
That word felt too small.
“Crying, maybe.”
Susie's eyes lowered.
Kiro looked at her.
“I'm telling you because...”
He struggled with the sentence.
“Because I keep not telling you shit.”
Susie looked up.
“And then you find out anyway.”
He gave a small, uncomfortable laugh.
“The scars.”
Silence.
“The panic.”
He gestured toward his own head.
“This.”
Kiro looked away.
“I don't want you to think I'm fucking with you.”
“I don't.”
“I know.”
He paused.
“Actually, I don't know.”
Susie frowned slightly.
Kiro took a breath.
“I just want to be fair.”
“Fair?”
“With you.”
His voice became quieter.
“You keep spending time with me.”
He looked at her.
“So you should probably know what spending time with me sometimes looks like.”
Susie stared at him.
Kiro immediately regretted saying it.
“That sounds dramatic.”
“A little.”
“Fuck.”
“But I get it.”
Kiro looked toward the tree again.
Susie did too.
After a moment she asked:
“Does it happen a lot?”
“Not constantly.”
“Enough?”
Kiro nodded.
“Enough.”
Susie adjusted her grip on the camera.
“Do you know when it's going to happen?”
“No.”
“Anything I should do?”
Kiro blinked.
“What?”
“If this happens again.”
“Oh.”
He thought about Rin touching his shoulder at the party.
The sudden return.
The confusion afterward.
“I don't know.”
Susie nodded.
“Helpful.”
“Sorry.”
“There it is.”
Kiro almost smiled.
He thought again.
“Rin touched my shoulder last time.”
“And that helped?”
“It brought me back.”
“Okay.”
Kiro looked at her.
“But maybe don't fucking tackle me.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
“I'll save that for emergencies.”
“Great.”
A small silence.
Susie looked toward the tree.
Then at him.
“Do you still want to take the picture?”
Kiro stared at her.
“Here?”
She immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Definitely not here.”
Kiro breathed out.
“Thenk you.”
Susie looked around.
A little farther away, the old railway line was visible between the trees.
She pointed.
“Over there?”
Kiro followed her paw.
No rope.
No tire.
Just wet tracks and orange leaves.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
They started walking.
Kiro looked back once.
The tree stood alone in the clearing.
Nothing hanging from it except the tire.
He knew that.
Still, he was glad when the trees blocked it from view.
Susie stood beside the old tracks.
Kiro held the camera again.
“Don't make it weird.”
Susie looked at him.
“I was going to say that to you.”
“You're the one being photographed.”
“You're the one who just admitted you've been a photographer for about thirty seconds.”
“Forty now.”
“Professional.”
Kiro raised the camera.
This time, before looking through the viewfinder, he hesitated.
Susie noticed.
“We don't have to.”
Kiro looked at her.
Then at the camera.
“No.”
He breathed out.
“I want to.”
He lifted it.
Susie appeared inside the little frame.
Just Susie.
No shadows.
No body.
No blood.
She stood beside the tracks with one paw in her pocket, hair slightly messy from the wind.
Kiro waited.
Nothing changed.
Click.
The camera spat out the picture.
Kiro lowered it.
Susie walked over.
“Did I look stupid?”
“Probably.”
“Good.”
Kiro handed her the developing photo.
She held it carefully.
Then looked at him.
“My turn.”
Kiro immediately stepped backward.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You already survived one.”
“Against my will.”
Susie lifted the camera.
Kiro covered his face.
“Susie.”
“Move your paws.”
“No.”
“Kiro.”
He peeked between his fingers.
Click.
His ears shot up.
“You asshole.”
Susie laughed.
Kiro reached for the photo.
She moved it away.
“Nope.”
“That's me.”
“It's my camera.”
“My face.”
“My picture.”
“Give it.”
Susie looked at the slowly developing square.
Then her smile softened.
Kiro noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“That face.”
She looked at him.
“You look normal.”
Kiro went still.
Susie seemed to realize how strange that sounded.
“I mean...”
“No.”
Kiro looked at the photo.
“Let me see.”
She handed it over.
Kiro stared.
Wet forest behind him.
Old railway line.
His sweater.
His ears slightly uneven because one had turned toward Susie when she called his name.
His expression caught somewhere annoyed and amused.
Nothing else.
No shadow.
No blood.
No rope.
Just him.
Kiro kept staring.
Susie stood beside him.
“You hate it?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Then:
“...No.”
That seemed to surprise him more than her.
Susie smiled.
Kiro looked at her.
“You can keep it.”
“Really?”
“Don't make it weird.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“You were.”
“Maybe.”
Kiro handed it back.
Susie carefully slid the photo into her bag.
Kiro watched.
Then glanced toward you.
You had seen the tree too.
Of course you had.
His expression tightened.
“Don't.”
Susie looked at him.
“What?”
Kiro looked back toward the wet tracks.
“Nothing.”
She stared at him for a second.
Then started walking.
Kiro followed.
After a few steps, Susie reached into her bag and pulled out the first photo she'd taken of him earlier.
The one where he hadn't known she was watching.
She held it beside the newer one.
Two Kiros.
Both alive.
Both standing in the same forest.
Susie looked at them.
Then carefully put them away.
Kiro didn't ask what she was doing.
He just stayed beside her as they walked deeper into the autumn trees.