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Like glitter on a cake, sunlight sparkled against the lazy sea by the shores of Osaka Bay. The sun spied from the window as little Koizumi Wakoko, age five, laughed like a retard on fire while smashing the flailing fish’s head against the edge of the desk, over and over. No hit would quite kill it. His father’s grimace loomed over her shoulder, the man thankful for not being born a fish, who was yet considering that at least its suffering should end soon enough… while his own would last at least thirteen more years.
Crack.
Finally realizing that the fish had gone limp (at least a full minute late), Wakoko’s big eyes pierced into it to see what had changed, but her curiosity had been left lingering as the golem of a man that was her dad took it and put it on the table. The knife had a long handle, a small, sharp blade, which, under the two suns in her eyes, went into its belly and slowly made its way across. Pink guts came out; bloomed open by dad’s big fingers, the flesh had a reddish tingle that Wakoko wouldn’t quite forget for as long as she lived.
Knife goes in,
Guts come out.
Knife goes in,
Guts come out.
Crack.
