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Billows of blue and silver cloud loomed in the distance, violet rain spilling like a shadow over the curve of the ocean. But for where they were now, sunshine poured over the water, over the boat deck, over himself, over the broad shoulders of his father who stared out to sea. In truth Noa thought boating was boring but he felt his father loved him then.
He couldn’t remember the first time he died within the blur of panic and rotten color. It had become dreamlike to him, having woken in a virtual bed in a virtual room after the accident. His father had saved him. But there were no more boat rides and Noa felt something sinking, felt violet shadow cloak over his father until his father no longer visited.
The second time he died he had to go back. The world was too bright for him now. He couldn’t understand what love was but he wanted Mokuba to be happy and he wanted Mokuba to be safe. And it broke his heart that he couldn’t save his father like this. He didn’t understand what love was but it broke his heart that his life was all he could offer now and his father still didn’t want it.