Blazing Boxes, Burning Memories

Thirteenth Avenue, an inconspicuous strip stateside ending with a cul-de-sac in the hub of all things happening. If you wanted to know something, find someone or get something done you went to Thirteenth, everyone knew it, thirteen was the lucky number for those who knew what to ask or who to call. You could find a bit of culture at every corner, and a friendly neighbor at every turn. It didn’t matter who you were, what you stood for, what you liked or believed in; On Thirteenth you were as safe as could be and respected.

Thirteenth was a place that was built by immigrants that could make anything happen. At least until a month ago, on January 3, 2013 the snowy cul-de-sac had no ice, it was raining. The heat from the unlucky Thirteenth was flurrying ash rather than the fluffy snow coating the city, a strip of seven yards was wiped from the map. Two full blocks of the avenue including the cul-de-sac were ablaze, a full-alarm blaze with two command centers calling point and no indication of what caused the chaotic inferno.

Two years later the zone was no longer condemned, a mall was being erected on the avenue; on the strip a single family made a purchase and set up various taverns, information hubs and monuments to pay tribute to the fallen, to the ashes of those who breathed their last on that day. However the last building at the tip of the cul-de-sac was a building barely standing. It was a decayed building, a charcoal gray that held the scars of that horrifying day that claimed hundreds of lives, a few new additions aged aesthetically were the only indications that someone called that their dwelling.

A girl standing 5’1” with an undercut pixie bob of dirty platinum hair, with eyes so deep blue they almost looked black, a light tan to her skin left no question of her nationality, the Italian flag pinned to her bag seemed to bring life to the drab gray landscape she walked towards. Converse sneakers, paired with her boarding school uniform a short skirt, blazer in black with sport shorts and thigh highs completed by her accessories. On her left ear she had a black drop cross earring hooked from the helix with a double bite into the lobe, with a diamond center, on her right was a simple earring a diamond a carnelian with a crown embossed onto its surface which matched the tattoo she sported on her wedding finger, an Italian crown covered the face where her wedding band should one day sit. When she approached her home, her footsteps slowed and her eyes narrowed.

Sitting on the old porch swing was a brown parcel about the size of a ream of paper, looking harmlessly discarded to a passerby; Yet looking suspicious to the owner. Passing her tongue over her lips she puckered her lips and whistled as she walked, the melody slowly came to Rachmaninoff’s Polka Italienne, her volume increasing as she approached the home, her tone a low alto call. By the time she finished the second bar a baritone and soprano whistle were answering; one drifting from above and the other distant and low to the ground. The three whistles were a communication they shared as they walked. When the high school senior reached the porch a girl with hip-length white hair feathered down her back stepped out from behind the closed door, her gray eyes calculating honing in on the package rather than the girl before her. On the middle phalange of her middle finger was a thorny crowned cross, she was dressed business ready in black which made her seem all the more like a ghost with her pale skin. The brunette boy hopped down from a transplanted willow to the ground behind the porch, putting his hands on the new rail and pulling himself up to crouch there, taller than the other two standing at 5’8” but the youngest with a messy skater hairdo and disheveled school uniform, his chocolate eyes didn’t hide their curiosity as they spotted the parcel that caused the summons, reaching out to it his finger twitched. His trigger finger was slightly red around the new tattoo on his phalange a fretty St. James cross with a vivid dagger as it’s center.

As he reached forward his hand was swatted away, the white-haired girl spoke with a sigh “Hero, have we not learned to not open strange boxes?” The smallest rummaged through her school bag while the boy rubbed his hand and protested “Shiro, if we don’t open it, are we going to let the boss? Obviously, I should open it and check if it’s safe.” With a chuckle, the one who summoned them pulled something from her bag and tossed it with grace to Shiro without notice. Shiro blinked, but reacted with razor-sharp reflexes and caught the device, her eyes widening slightly, a portable x-ray device with a viewing panel, such a thing wasn’t available on the market and clearly wouldn’t be cheap, Shiro’s expression didn’t change although her complexion seemed to lose what little blood colored her face as she turned it on “Understood ma’am.” The screen showed the inside of the box similar to how airport security would see, inside was a book the size of a traditional manga, a USB stick and a letter addressed to April.

Frowning, April approached the box sitting on the swing in its place, Hero and Shiro sitting on her left and right respectively. Inside the package the letter had a fancy script with her name and her familia emblem, her slight smile turned sour as she opened the envelope. The note was simple “The fire that blazes in your heart was no accident. That incident is being concealed to this day. I’ll have you work for me, should you be curious. Plug this USB into a device you’re ready to replace, then we shall meet. I’ll have you repay me for the past Paese side, after all life is the one thing you cannot put a price on, is that not what you told me? ~A~” Swallowing April felt a shiver run down her spine, she picked up the book, handing the flash drive to Shiro, thumbing through the album, the photographs seemed to have been taken from drones, security tapes and other devices that should have been torched. Hero’s jaw fell slack as he whispered “How…?” Shiro fiddled with the drive as she frowned, breaking her icy facade “Ayacry? That genius is back?” April nodded numbly as she flipped mindlessly, consuming the photos locking into memory her familia’s last moments, and the fiery explosive that destroyed her oasis.

According to the photographs that spoke to the city’s lost history, a rogue missile glided down the cul-de-sac, met head on with a second, the two together caused shock waves that brought fire and agony to all those involved. Tears rolled down her face as she flipped through, watching her father and brother become human torches, then disintegrate to ashes. Fire burned in her eyes as tears wetted the back of her hands and her heart wrenched in pain, she closed the book with shivers surging down her spine “I will find the one responsible for this, and they will pay for their actions, whether or not it cost me my life.” Two disconnected voices protested “Boss! Don't even joke about that!!” “Ma’am, that’s a fool hardy idea. We are a family, do or die til death do us part Miss April, even a stampede could not chase us from your side”

Silence was her answer, simply a smile and pushing herself to her feet she headed to the basement beneath the ruin where the three stayed, it was a storm cellar that indeed withstood the trial of agony that scorched the main house. Inside Shiro found their oldest PC and plugged the device in, automatically the computer began running a code, turning the dinosaur modern within what seemed to be fifteen minutes the screen changed, the groaning fan calmed down and the style displayed altered several times. Staring at the flickering screen eventually a camera recording icon appeared and the trio exchanged a glance uncovering the camera “Hello?” A voice gentle and young giggled and answered in a playful manner “It has been a while my dears, April, Shiro and Hero are the next generation staying well? Shall I help you recover the honor of the lost generation?”

Hero narrowed his eyes at the implication “Do not dare under sell boss” Another laugh filled the speakers “I wouldn’t dare underestimate the coming dawn of the largest family in Italy, even here stateside making a careless enemy of them is foolhardy, even with my renown I would never~ After all my darling April is a wonderful asset by any means even if she’s damaged goods.” Shiro narrowed her eyes “Watch your mouth will you” April merely sighed interrupting “Why did you call us Aya, the genius of the ages would never waste time on something meaningless.” The girl on the other screen nodded “That’s why I treasure you April, so clear and concise. I performed a major crack attack recently, part of how I got that footage. I need more time to process, however there’s a black market lab using my studies as their basis. I want you to wreak some havoc, then I’ll give you the information you want. Deal?”

April frowned playing with the brown wrapper in her hand, squeezing the album she gave a short nod of consent “If you back out, even my life debt will not stop me from ending you.” She turned her back and headed deeper into the basement, she’d need to prepare her gear to go whaling.