Page 146 of Dragon 7

Sight continued with distortions of impossibilities. The blood on the cabin floor lifted, drawing up off the metal floor in long, red, shimmering ribbons. And those blood ribbons rose slow, like silk pulled out of water.

They traveled the wrong way through the air.

Rewinding.

Until, every drop that had sprayed off Yuki rose and went right back into him.

I tried to yell or move on my own, but couldn’t.

I don’t understand!! Someone help me!!

The pool of blood dripping from Aki’s throat began to zip back into him.

And everyone appeared in their early positions and began to rewind too.

Wait. . .what?!

I wanted to get a closer look, but my body moved on its own passing Reo as he stood frozen in the wrong direction. Earlier, he had come back through the cockpit door. Now he was walking backwards. The door swallowed his shoulder and his foot came up off the threshold and his breath went back through his teeth.

And he disappeared back into the cockpit.

I passed Kenji.

For the twins’ deaths, my brother's face traveled backward through every expression it had made. The grief left first, peeling off his mouth.

Next, the war returned.

I wanted to reach for him. My arms wouldn't take the order. This cold sensation had me, inside my chest and around my heart. It was driving me backward through the cabin and I could only watch.

The baby girl giggled.

Where are you?

Then the top half of Yuki’s body rose off the floor.

The round in his skull traveled out of it, through the air, and into the muzzle of the gun in his hand.

Wait! What?!

The wound in the side of his head closed. The gun lifted from his temple. His hand came down. His face un-broke.

And he was alive.

The sound of the baby’s giggling rose.

Then, I watched the decision on Yuki’s face. The grief went out of his eyes and the shock came up under it—the shock of a man who had just felt his twin go still in his arms. His mouth moved around the words I'd heard the first time. Who am I without him. They ran backward and were gone.

Then the palm.

They’re. . .coming. . .back. . .alive. . .

Yuki's hand lifted off Aki's hand. The childhood gesture undid itself. He stopped rocking. He had been rocking the body, and now he held it still, and then he wasn't holding it at all, because things blurred backward even faster and Aki rose into Yuki's arms instead of out of them.

Yuki's hand traveled up and set the kitsune mask back onto his brother's face, gold teeth, silver whiskers, the grin the artisan had carved.

The bullet left Aki’s throat.

The hole in Aki's throat closed under the collar.