GUILTY AS CHARGED
A Touken Ranbu Fictional Work
Font Guide:
Hello? – Regular narration
Hello? – Thoughts in the current timeline or memories
'Hello?' – Thoughts occurring in memories
"Hello?" – Dialog occurring in memories
It was cold and muggy. Kashuu never liked the heat, but he never really loved the cold either. He found himself on a rocky shoreline, perched among massive grey boulders without the slightest clue of how he'd gotten there. Sea and sky stretched out before him and melded into perfect synchrony. Everything was silent and grey. It was as though he was the only living, breathing thing on the whole planet. He looked down at himself and gave a startled squeak when he saw red nail polish on his fingertips. Isn't this for girls?
Curious, Kashuu stumbled into a standing position and made his way to the water's edge. It was so clear he could nearly see to the bottom, which was extremely strange. His reflection stared back at him. It was unfamiliar. He couldn't place the face he saw with anyone, much less himself, but who was he anyways? Crimson eyes stared unsettlingly into his soul and he could only stand a few seconds before he had to avert his gaze. A feeling of overwhelming sadness struck him to the core, but he didn't know why.
The soft sound of a flute wafted to him on a non-existent breeze. It was a beautiful, but eerie melody. Kashuu had never heard a tune like it before…at least he thought so. There was a sort of magnetic pull about it; he just wanted to get as close to the source of that strange music as possible. As he dragged himself away from the lonely scenery before him, he caught a flash of white deep within the water, but paid it no mind. The song was what was important. Perhaps if he followed it, he'd get a better sense of what was going on.
He climbed over rocks and hopped across little puddles that littered the beach, never seeming to really cover any ground. But the intensity of the melody grew, and strangely enough it sounded no louder than before. Instinctively, Kashuu knew that it was wrong. Something wasn't right about this place; although he couldn't even remember his own identity, that much was obvious. But he had no choice but to keep on moving forward. That sound was his only lead.
Days passed, maybe hours, probably a few minutes, Kashuu couldn't tell. His body was numb maybe from the cold or from the climbing, he couldn't really be sure. All he knew for certainty was that there was a strong pressure bearing down on him and making his ears ring, and he was sure it was coming from the song; the same song that now seemed even fainter than at the beginning. There was nothing around him. Here, where the intensity was at its peak, there was nothing, no one; just the same old boulders and sand and sea. Kashuu plopped down onto the cold sand and pressed his hands over his ears. It wasn't a very pleasant sensation at all.
Now what am I supposed to do?
He glanced up at the sky and saw that there was no sun, just a dull expanse of steel blue. The colour felt off; somehow, although he wasn't really sure, he knew that the sky was supposed to look different. Pressing his hands down even harder, he tried to rack his brain in an attempt to stir up memories, but he was a blank slate. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. He didn't feel like he'd forgotten anything; only that he never knew in the first place. As more time passed and nothing happened, he resigned himself to lie against one of the rocks and close his eyes. After a while he got used to the pressure and it didn't feel so overbearing anymore. He fell into a strange state between sleep and wakefulness and stayed there for only heavens knew how long. Everything stayed the same – the placid sea, the frigid air, the background song – and when he next opened his eyes, he felt like he'd only closed them for a second. It was obvious then that the sound had nothing to offer him, so he rose from his seat and stalked off down the beach, not even brushing off the sand that had gathered on his coat. He didn't expect to find anything, just kept walking and walking and walking and climbing and walking some more. He didn't get tired or hungry or bored, those concepts meant nothing to him.
His initial disturbance at not knowing anything about himself dulled and vanished, and the song became a constant companion with him. It actually began to sound less eerie and more peaceful. Probably that was what this was, the embodiment of tranquillity. Because his soul felt as flat and calm as the sea. After years(?) of walking along that peaceful shore, he stumbled upon another person perched upon a rock as he had been when he first woke up. It was a man with eyes that he would have thought suited the sky much better if he had seen them much longer ago, back when the song's pressure was unbearable. The speed with which he scrambled down the boulder startled him. Quick movements like that were foreign to Kashuu. Nothing ever moved except for him after all, and he wasn't in a rush. The man's eyes widened and Kashuu tilted his head curiously as his lips tremored. "Kiyomitsu."
Okita was a flame of life when he woke up, arms and legs flailing as if he was struggling against whoever was dragging him into this new reality. The place was cold, and dead. The last thing he knew, he was pain, pain, pain but he remembered everything before that clearly. That still didn't completely explain what he was doing there though. Not completely. The first thing he heard was a spine-chilling song that had immense power associated with it. It pressed him to the sand and ripped dry heaves from his throat. He lay down for probably a few hours and let the pressure sink into his bones until he got somewhat used to it, then climbed up onto a rock to survey his surroundings. There was no one there. The place was desolate and filled with sadness. Or maybe that was just him, because he had every reason to grieve and mourn. Not long after he arrived, he saw a familiar figure strolling down the shoreline. He moved effortlessly among the rocks like he'd been there for years. And when Okita saw him, his beloved Kiyomitsu, it was obvious that he'd spent so long there that the aura of the place had sunk into his very being. Kashuu was strikingly beautiful, so beautiful that it hurt his heart to see him like this here of all places. The Kashuu he knew would never go out without makeup, would never look as dishevelled and untidy as the person standing before him – sand speckled hair, clothes and all. But it made him look younger, made Okita remember how young he really was, how young they all were and his heart hurt all the more. Because the last memory he had was of drowning in his own blood before he ended up here, and if Kashuu was here too that could only mean one thing. They were both dead.
Crimson eyes stared with apprehension at blue ones. Blue eyes that had interrupted the peace of his world. He had called him Kiyomitsu. Was that his name? The sight of this man saying his name with such tenderness filled his mind with one thought. A single name that he choked out on tears he didn't even know he was spilling. "Okita-kun…" Kashuu's chest felt fuller than it ever had – full of giddy happiness and crushing despair and everything in-between and it made an aborted laugh bubble up his throat. Another thought. He knew Okita. He loved Okita. "Okita-kun!" he said again, ignoring the tears that blurred his vision as he hugged the man tightly.
"Kiyomitsu what are you doing here?" he asked as he wiped the tears from his freezing cheeks.
"What am I doing here?" that gave him pause. After he'd learned the song by heart he'd stopped asking the meaning of such a pointless question. "What does it matter?"
Okita couldn't help but feel disturbed. It wasn't a new feeling associated with Kashuu. He'd done and said many unsettling things before, especially in their latter years together. But this person before him was completely different – not even a shadow of who he once was. His nail polish had chipped off and his hair was tangled and mussed up. The cloak was damp and wrinkled and he wore no shoes. This was not the near obsessive-compulsive Kiyomitsu he had grown to love. The aura of tranquillity he had with him was one he could never remember him possessing, ever before. "Kiyomitsu-"
"It's the second time you've called me that. Is it my name?"
Ah. Okita nearly choked on grief. It wasn't a surprise. Kashuu didn't remember a thing. It was a relief really. "Yeah. Kiyomitsu Kashuu."
The young man pondered over it for a moment before shrugging. It didn't matter to him. For once in his life Okita wished he could be happy about the day Kashuu stopped caring about his name. "Hey, what is this song? Do you know where it's coming from?"
"Song?" Kashuu looked at him strangely for a second before his face lit up with understanding. It had been with him for so long that he'd forgotten it was a song in the first place. "Oh, I'm not completely sure."
"Does it have a name?"
"A name? Why would it?" And it seemed like a perfectly valid question to Kashuu. He'd been the only one to hear it before, so it didn't need to be named. It was simply a lovely song and nothing more. Seeing Okita's face twist into some weird expression of disappointment made his chest tighten. "Would you like to name it?"
"I guess."
"Alright then. We'll call it…the Song of the Sea."
Okita nodded. He tried not to let his discomfort show. Everything about this Kiyomitsu was wrong. But he didn't have time to focus on that. He needed answers, and so far, the Song of the Sea was the only lead they had. He considered asking again where it came from but he doubted the boy would be able to answer. He'd just have to rely on his own senses. Okita reached forward and laced his cold fingers with Kashuu's silently lamenting that they would never again feel warm. "Let's find the source. You've been here all alone haven't you? Time for an adventure."
"An adventure?" Kashuu let himself be pulled forward, and for the first time since he came, he began to feel as though there was so much he was forgetting, and it was really, really important.
They climbed up the rocks that made up the slope of the beach until they were on flat land overlooking everything. The sameness of it all was sickening to Okita, but Kashuu's delighted face made it bearable. He always took pleasure in the smallest things. He fought through waves of nostalgia and pulled Kashuu along a little too roughly, but it didn't matter now, because nobody could hurt them ever again. Okita followed the force of the sound all the way to the base of a cliff. A stone door was built into it and it practically hummed with energy. He couldn't feel it though. They were both numb to everything. It grated horribly as it slid open, but instead of being greeted by a dank cave like he was expecting, they stared at the interior of an elevator.
A chill ran down Okita's spine. He didn't have a good feeling about this. Heck, he didn't have a good feeling about the entire place. He'd like nothing more than to grab Kashuu and embrace him until this horrible nightmare was over, but there was no going back for either of them. "What are you waiting for, Okita-kun?" This time the smaller man took the lead and soon, they were travelling down, down, down, beneath the hill, beneath the shoreline, beneath the sea, beneath the universe itself. As they made their descent, a strong presence came over them. It was one of authority – one that made Okita stand a little taller and Kashuu shrink a little smaller. Kashuu was shivering and he didn't know why. Yes he was still cold, but his palms were sweating and he just felt cold and clammy and scared and awful. A heavy guilt settled in his stomach and he felt the need to apologize, to anyone, anything that he could, but his throat was so tight with tears that he couldn't speak. Okita was startled. Although he should be familiar with these sudden mood swings, it still took him by surprise. "Kiyomitsu? What's wrong."
Kashuu shook his head and swiped at the tears. For some reason he couldn't look Okita in the eye, so he just curled in on himself, trying to find comfort in his own arms.
Has he remembered something?
"It's going to be okay, so no need to cry."
As if that would help. Kashuu let himself be held by this man he apparently knew before and just listened numbly to the elevator as it whirred down at a ridiculous speed. How had he morphed into a blubbering mess so quickly? Just minutes ago he was living out his days in utter serenity. No unnecessary emotions plagued his mind, so why now? Okita simply hugged him tighter, trying to be strong for both of their sakes. The elevator slowed to a halt almost unnoticeably. He only realized when Kashuu's ragged breaths were the only thing he could hear.
"Kiyomitsu, the elevator's stopped. Do you want to go back?"
"…" Go back? Of course Kashuu wanted to go back. Back to his shoreline. Back to where he wouldn't feel so incredibly tiny. His desire to find the source of the Song of the Sea had died long ago and he'd only humoured this man just because. Too many things were happening all at once. His head was spinning and his gut was clenching and he knew that all that mattered, the one thing he desperately needed was peace. Once he went through those doors, his reality would change. He just knew it, the same way he knew Okita's name.
Okita didn't prod or push, but instead silently prayed that Kashuu wouldn't go back. Although he didn't realize it, he needed answers just as much as Okita himself. So when cold fingers reached out to press a button, he held his breath.
The doors slid open noiselessly. Kashuu didn't know why he opened them or what was driving him to move forward. I don't want this. His lips were sealed shut. Okita misunderstood his actions and kept an arm looped supportively around his shoulder as he guided them into utter darkness.
It took a while for their eyes to adjust, which was strange considering the bodies they had. Okita found himself standing in the centre of a once grand hall. It reminded him of an opera house he'd been to when he was still alive. The stage was made of wood so fine and highly polished it felt like porcelain tiles beneath his feet. A conical gallery stretched up for hundreds of feet above them. Even in the dim lighting that seemed to emanate from some distant overhead source, he could see the rich wine velvet of the seats. Okita suppressed the urge to whistle his impressment. If it weren't for the stale air and the heavy violet drapery that decorated the room, he'd have forgotten where he was.
When he looked to his side, he froze. Kashuu was staring at one of the gallery seats, teary eyes wide, standing still as a spooked animal. It brought back very bad memories. Tearing his eyes away, he turned his attention to the spot the young man seemed so fixated on. At first, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, then looking a little closer, he could just make out a head, resting on the back. In that instant, a strange sort of energy permeated the room; not the electrifying sort of energy that bursts up spontaneously, burning fast and hard but dying down just as quickly. It was of a sombre sort, the kind that creeps in slowly, unexpectedly on a lazy breeze, then grows in power, leaching the life out of everything it touches until it crushes it all and dissipates, leaving a hollow ache in its stead. The rest of the body materialized, and not just in that seat – the entire hall was being filled with human-looking creatures gradually. They manifested bit by bit, part by part, and it was unsettling to watch, but they didn't have a choice.
Even when the place was packed, it was still deathly quiet. The strange creatures merely stared at them, but they exuded a power of authority that was greater than anything Okita had ever felt before. He couldn't keep his eyes on any of them. Are they the rulers of this realm?
It was ironic. Here was a skilled swordsman, a police officer who stared death in the face without cringing more than once, cowering beneath the eerie gaze of some ghosts. "We know what you are thinking, Souji Okita. We are not ghosts."
The voice rang clear and strong through the room, and if the place could get any quieter it would. The one that spoke was very impressively dressed in a white judge's gown and held a mahogany gavel in his hand. Get yourself together Souji.
He dug deep within himself and from the depths of his obstinate soul found the will to be defiant. "And contrary to your belief, we aren't afraid of you."
"Speak for yourself." The words were slow and deliberate and simply said as fact.
That made Okita look to his side. Kashuu had slid down to the floor and buried his face in his knees. He was trembling so violently that Okita was afraid he was in one of his fits again. He was about to rush to his side, but the sharp smack of the gavel gave him pause. His head was wrenched up to the speaker sitting in the middle of the gallery and so was Kashuu's. Ever since he'd set foot in the room, Kashuu felt his inner peace drifting further and further away, being replaced by something darker and more primal: fear. It coated his throat and sewed his lips shut so that even his pathetic sobs couldn't breach the surface. Feelings of insecurity and intimidation washed over him, and the frightening thing was that they felt like they belonged. Had these always been a part of him in a previous life? The one he lived in with Okita?
"Souji Okita, Kiyomitsu Kashuu, you have been summoned to the Land In-Between."
Every syllable made Kashuu curl his shoulders inward until he was small as a child. "We are the judges that reign in this realm. We are the ones who decide your fate."
A gut-twisting discomfort settled within Okita. They were on trial, and judging by the nature of this court, only one of them would win.
"Your trial has already begun, however it seems as though this one has buried his memories deep within himself."
Kashuu squeezed his knees even tighter; if he was alive the skin would be bruised all over. I've hidden my own memories?
"We cannot proceed unless he regains them."
Okita's fingers curled into tight fists. Remember? The last thing he wanted was for Kashuu to remember. "Can't you judge us without them? You already know all you need to."
Grey eyes narrowed and the white cloak shimmered in the dull light. "For a fair judgement, past must be aligned with present. What is wrong, Souji Okita? What do you have to hide?"
Okita's breath caught in his throat. What did he have to hide? From Kashuu – everything. They finally met again across time and space. He was finally able to see those crimson eyes once more, despite however empty they looked. But again it couldn't last. It was like they were destined to be separated, no matter what.
"It is about time we begin." The gavel was struck once and a wave of breeze swept through the room. Kashuu's head grew light and he slumped over himself and would have collapsed if Okita hadn't realized he'd been released from the Judge's power and rushed over to cradle him like a doll.
Kashuu pulled his grey newspaper boy cap low down over his eyes as he carried a wicker basket of the day's paper fresh from the printery. He tried not to let his eyes linger on the uniformed children his age running through the paved streets, trying to reach in time for the final bell. He stayed as far out of their way as he could and pressed the basket closer to his worn sweater. "Hey Tetsuo! If you don't hurry we're gonna be late!" a girl shouted, tugging her sister who was only a little bigger than Kashuu himself along. Their gazes met. He looked away too late. The scornful expression dug into still festering wounds, and it was everything Kashuu could do to keep his tears at bay.
'What should I do if I want to stop crying, Mommy?'
'Just smile Kiyo. It's easy as this. See?'
Kashuu turned his back to the street and faced an orange vendor on his side. With his biggest, brightest smile he said, "Morning paper mister?"
He walked through the entire town until the very last paper was sold and his pocket was full of coins. He didn't look up at the people that he passed, at the pretty buildings that lined the road, at the nice treats that vendors sold because he didn't belong there. He lived on the other side of town where the road was packed dirt and stone and the tiny houses were shoved out of sight so people who didn't want to see them didn't have to. He always hated leaving home. Because home meant safety, home meant his mother, home meant love. At least there he could hide from judging stares thrown his way. At least there he mattered to someone.
The heat always seemed more intense out of the city. It made sweat drain into his eyes and his hair stick flat to his face, and combined with the dust caking his feet, it wasn't a very good feeling. So Kashuu was more than a little irritated when he found his way blocked by three pairs of feet.
"Hey Kashuu."
His blood ran cold instantly and he apologized to the universe that he had the audacity to even feel irritated in the first place. A hand shot out and picked him up by the collar while another found its way into his pocket and fished out the few coins there. The coins he had worked so hard for that very morning. The coins his mother was counting on him to bring home.
Kashuu squirmed around in the choking grip, feet kicking out wildly and hands flailing for his robber's. "No! You can't! That's for Mommy!"
The older boy flung him to the ground and stuffed the money in his own pocket. "Not anymore."
Frustration fuelled Kashuu to launch himself at his attacker, and the next thing he knew was utter blackness, then pain.
The disappointment he felt when he reached his doorstep was almost palpable. He was ashamed that he let that money slip through his fingers so easily. His mother was bound to be disappointed too, but she would just smile and say everything was okay when it wasn't. He heard her muffled sobbing in her bedroom late at night when she thought he was asleep. She must have sensed him at the door because it swung open just a few seconds after he arrived. His tear streaked face and black eye were enough of an explanation to her. She enveloped him securely in her warm arms and cherished the moment of his childish stubbornness while she still could.
"Don't worry Kiyo. Everything will work out."
Kiyomitsu was trapped in a haze of thoughts and he murmured incoherently, clutching on to Okita's clothes tightly. He drifted in and out of consciousness and the Judges stared on in silent apathy. The experience was terrible for Okita. It was too familiar.
Kashuu washed out a bloody towel in a basin of water before replacing it and snaking his tiny hand into his mother's fragile grip. Hacking coughs wracked her weakened body and Kashuu lingered at her side, suppressing his panic. How much longer was she going to keep coughing? It had better not keep up, because mouthfuls of blood came up with every heave and no matter how resilient she used to be, Kashuu knew she couldn't keep it up forever. He squeezed his eyes shut as a violent fit came over her and he even felt his own lungs rattling. He'd sought out so many doctors, reached for help on so many sides, taken up so many odd jobs, but they still couldn't afford treatment. His father had run off the minute he'd been conceived, and there was nobody else there. They only had each other, and now that his mother was leaving him who would he have? The thought was terrifying.
"Mommy please," he begged, nuzzling her with his head, trying to get as close as possible, to cling to her like he always used to when she had more strength. "Isn't there anything I can do?"
"Mommy…Mommy?"
The woman slowly brought a trembling hand up to Kashuu's cheeks and wiped away his tears. She gave him a tired smile, lips stained with her life. "I love you, Kiyomitsu. I'm sorry I couldn't stay with you just a little longer." And her arm fell onto the old mattress with a dull thud. Her eyes closed, and she looked like she'd just fallen asleep.
"Mommy?"
Kashuu shoved himself into a cupboard in their old kitchen, biting down on his favourite cap to stifle the wheezes ripping themselves from his throat. The house was dark. He was alone up until a few minutes prior when he'd heard the front door crash inwards.
"Kashuu? Where are you hiding?"
The boy bit down harder on the cap, a gift his mother had gotten him when she was still alive. "Poor boy, you've been on your own for how many weeks now? We'll take care of you in Yuka's place." More crashes pounded themselves into his ears as the sound of them wrecking his home grew louder. He covered his ears when he heard cupboard doors being flung open as if that would save him.
When cool air hit his skin and he looked up, he was met with the grin of a man with pink hair and deadly eyes.
Okita, stumbled with his group of half-drunk friends through the city at one in the morning. His curfew had long since passed and he had twenty missed calls on his phone, but that could wait. His sister would get over it soon enough. They'd just dragged themselves from a party being held in the Lower Quarter. He was one of the few partygoers still alert and lucid enough to be called sober. Yaminami was too, and he was also the one who knew the town the best.
"Where are we headed to next?" Okita asked. The party hadn't been enough to cool his head after a heated fight with his bull-headed sister.
"Frustrated are we?" the boy snickered.
Okita responded seriously. "More than ever."
The snicker morphed into a smirk after Yaminami appraised him for a short while. "I know just the people you can take it out on."
They weaved through the streets, avoiding cops on night patrol with the ease of any criminal. Okita found himself standing at the entrance of what looked like another club.
"Eiji, you take care of those three. If they look like they're falling down just go on ahead of us."
Yaminami pulled Okita into the building before the other could spare a thought. The first thing that hit him was the strong smell of incense. The threshold opened out into a sort of lounge and bar and screen doors shielded the rest of the building from view. The lighting was dim, so they couldn't really see much except for what was immediately in front of them. Even so, it didn't take long for someone to sidle up to them as soon as they took a seat. Okita was indeed startled. It was a girl of about thirteen, small, fragile, but with a mesmerizing pair of crimson eyes that sucked him in instantly. He took in her cunning tilt of her lips, the glint of bangles around her wrist, the smoothness of her porcelain skin and understood what kind of person she was instantly.
"Good night. How lovely of you to join us here."
"How lovely indeed," Yaminami chuckled and Okita found himself wondering how the boy even knew about a place like this.
The girl smiled innocently and smoothed her long chestnut hair down. "Can I interest you in anything in particular?"
Okita gulped. His mind was screaming for him to get away from this place, but his curiosity got the better of him.
"I-I'm not sure."
The girl chuckled lightly and settled between them, snaking her hands into both of theirs. She smelled sickly sweet. "Maybe I can help both of you tonight?"
"B-both of us?!" Okita couldn't help but stutter and he was cut off by Yamanami's giddy laughter. "Why not? She's pumped so full of drugs that she can't feel a thing!"
She smiled in agreement and leaned closer to Okita, bringer her inviting lips closer to his face. The close proximity and seductive sent him reeling so badly that he almost sighed in relief when he felt his phone vibrating against his thigh for the twenty-first time.
He gently pushed her hand away and stood up. "Yeah Mitsu. I'm coming now." He dragged a confused Yamanami up out of the seat and the girl's clutches and gave her a patronizing smile before he left. She stared at him, hands hovering mid-air, looking lost. He couldn't shake the image from his mind.
Kashuu huddled up in an alleyway partially shielded from the unforgiving sun. He hated its brightness; it made it more difficult to hide his flaws. He sat on a filthy piece of cardboard, and covered his body with an equally filthy coat. His boss had been arrested around two months prior and he had been living on the streets ever since, scrounging up whatever he could to survive. Sometimes he found himself in a section of town that he was completely unfamiliar with and no recollection of how he got there. Sometimes he would find himself wheezing and panting and shaking and screaming without knowing why. Who was he kidding? Of course he knew why. The drugs they'd hooked him on were so much more scarce now and he simply had to get them. They made him bold and confident; numbed the pain and the fear and just made him feel so giddy and ready to please. It had been a while since he could find anyone on the streets who had any, so he'd been hiding away since then; saving up his strength for the time he'd need to offer himself to get that reward. Because that was the only thing worth living for anymore. He tried to smooth his hair down, hating how filthy he felt and smelled, and he lowered his eyes no matter who passed.
Okita strolled down the sidewalk aimlessly. It was one of those rare evenings when he actually felt like walking through the town. He hadn't returned to the Lower Quarter since his expedition with Yamanami. Days after when he brought up the incident in conversation, Okita discovered that the boy had just visited the place based on rumours and gossip. It was a relief to know he wasn't friends with a paedophile.
A piece of cardboard partially in an alleyway caught his eye for just a split second. It wasn't unusual to see beggars in the city, and Okita didn't feel especially sympathetic towards all of them anyways. 'Anybody can earn at least something if they just try hard enough'. A terrible hoarse cough broke his train of thought, and he whirred around to face the person. He started with a jolt when he found himself staring into a pair of all too familiar crimson eyes. The person's face was haggard and dirty, but still held some beauty. 'So this is where she ended up after that raid.' Okita didn't want to imagine all the things a thirteen-year-old girl had to go through on the streets.
"It's you."
Kashuu locked eyes with this strange person who stopped to address him. Nobody had done that before. Who was he?
"I'm sorry but have we met?"
Okita frowned. Was this the same person? The face was the same, but the voice was a little strange. 'He sounds like a….oh.'
"You wouldn't happen to be a twin?"
"Um…no."
"It is you then. We met one night, but nothing happened between us."
Kashuu lowered his head, pressing his knees to his chest. Okita wondered how this little girl…no, boy, had survived without support for two months. "What's your name?"
"Kashuu."
"Okay Kashuu. Come home with me?"
"I still can't believe you! Where do you think you are? An orphanage?" Mitsu chided. She was more incredulous than anything else.
Okita just sighed and rubbed the back of his head. 'Why did I bring him home anyways?' Maybe it was some twisted sense of obligation or an extreme display of charity? Whatever it was, he'd acted without thinking his actions through and he had a complete stranger taking a bath in his home.
"Yasusada will be excited to have a little brother!" he teased.
The older woman conked him on the head with her ladle. "We're gonna have a loooong discussion tonight, Souji Okita."
Kashuu felt sublime as he pelted his skin with warm water. He hadn't had a decent bath in weeks, so all the grime and sludge trickled off him and swirled down the drain. It was brown and disgusting, just like the polluted river that ran nearby his home. This strange blue-eyed boy just offered to take him home out of the blue for what reason? Was he an idiot? Who in their right mind would let a filthy homeless beggar into their home? 'Isn't he afraid I'll rob him or something?'
Kashuu's eyes roved over the contents of the shower caddy that hung from the head. There were all sorts of personal care products that he could never even dream of owning. He ran a hand through his hair, not surprised to find broken off ends caking his fingers. It didn't matter that much anyways; he no longer had anyone to look pretty for. Sighing tiredly, he switched off the faucet and dried himself, relishing the feeling of the plush towel over his damp skin. The clothes set out for him were a bit bigger than his own size but fit well enough to be passable as his own. 'Is there someone my age who lives here?'
Despite the great kindness that had already been shown to him by simply letting him set foot inside his home, Kashuu couldn't help but feel extremely sceptical about the whole thing. What did this weirdo want with him anyways? Maybe he'd ask after he got some food – no need to risk giving up a good meal. He smoothed down his hair and pinched his cheeks, aware that he probably looked nothing like the person Okita had claimed to meet before. 'I'm not beautiful anymore after all.'
He wandered into the kitchen-dining area where he was met with a familiar set of sky blue eyes but on a younger face. A child sat around the table spooning big mouthfuls of stir fry into his mouth. Their gazes locked, but the boy went right on chewing.
Kashuu was the first to look away; he never made a habit out of staring at anyone. He plastered a fake smile on and instantly regretted it. It felt too brittle, like the boy was seeing through every inch of him, but he'd started this façade so he had to keep it up. He bowed deeply and softened his voice until it was smooth as milk. "Hello, it's an honour to be here."
The boy motioned for him to sit down. "Eat up. It's good to have you," then he shoveled another spoonful inside. Kashuu felt like he could gobble down his soup but restrained himself. Politeness was everything. These people had offered him relief and he was going to ensure he got as much of it as possible before he had to leave.
In the pitch darkness of the night, Kashuu crept from his room to Okita's. he adjusted his shirt so it was just slipping off his shoulders and ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them. He'd thought about it over his silent dinner with the boy. The older one was one of his customers once. If he'd gone through the trouble of taking him in, that could only mean one thing, right? Kashuu clenched his fists, wondering about the sort of performance he should put on. He didn't trust himself to hold out for long without the drugs; they made him bold and witty and seductive. They made him Kiyomitsu Kashuu. Without them, he was just a weak vacant shell without personality, only tears. But Okita had so kindheartedly given him a second chance, at least for one night, so he could not disappoint.
Three soft knocks on the door was all it took for Okita to show up. Kashuu's hands trembled, but just a little. He'd get over it as soon as he started. "Thank you for accommodating me today. It was very kind." He didn't miss the way Okita's eyes roved up and down his form, a confused expression on his face. Obviously he was still having a hard time accepting that the person he'd so thoroughly believed to be a girl before was definitely a male. Even now, with narrow shoulders that sunk and curled inwards and a frame so delicate a firm shake would snap him in two, Kashuu was clearly a small, cute boy.
'Maybe it was the makeup?'
Also unmistakeable was the way Okita squirmed uncomfortably on the spot, the way his fingers twitched and how he gritted his teeth as if in discomfort. Kashuu looked down at his pants purely on instinct and understood immediately. 'Oh. It's one of those nights I guess.'
He shuffled closer to Okita who seemed rooted to the spot, too wrapped up in his own pain to notice. Kashuu reached forward and gripped the hem of his pyjama shirt lightly. "I can help if it hurts."
Startled blue eyes snapped down to crimson ones and Kashuu pushed further. "Let me be of use to you."
Okita didn't even consider it. Kashuu saw the disgust in his eyes as clear as day and his throat tightened instantly. That reaction was unexpected to say the least and his grip loosened. Okita must have sensed the change because he caught himself and plastered on a painfully false smile before prying Kashuu's fingers off him gingerly. "I'm sorry Kashuu-san but that's not why I brought you here. Get some rest now, okay."
In seconds the door was softly closed and Kashuu didn't even notice that he'd moved until he was lying facedown on his bed, feeling empty and cold.
Mitsu looked over her boys thoughtfully. It had been three months since they'd taken in Kashuu and within that time it had been difficult for the boy to adjust. He was always antsy around the other two, but she got along pretty well with him. If anything, he'd proved himself to be a hard worker and that was what Mitsu loved the most in a person.
"Say, it's been a while since you've come here, hasn't it Kashuu-kun?"
His eyes flitted up to hers and he gave a discreet nod. He was always so reluctant to talk around the other boys. Needless to say they were confused.
"I was thinking I could enrol you in school."
Kashuu froze, chopsticks midway to the plate.
"Uh…Kashuu?"
He couldn't hear her, couldn't see her. He was living in the past – in a time when he pretended not to see his mother storing up most of her savings for a time when he could finally go to a school. 'You're a smart boy, Kiyo-chan. There's so much you can learn about this world. You're excited about it too, aren't you?'
-in a time when he stood trembling behind his mother in his favourite cap and freshly knitted sweater as she spoke to the principal of a small public school. She had her money in her purse. They'd saved enough to cover his registration fee and a few supplies, but they were roughly shoved out of the office and the door slammed shut. Kashuu gripped his mother's hand tight, tears dripping down his face. 'Don't worry, Kiyo-chan. Everything will work out just okay.'
-in a time when she was drowning in her own blood and Kashuu was clutching to her for dear life, wishing for all the world he could treat her himself. She passed so suddenly, and he never even got the chance to bid her farewell. Words of wisdom died on her breath and with them perished all of Kashuu's dreams.
His vision blurred and he shot up from his seat before the tears could spill. "I won't go!"
Okita watched, unaware of the displeased frown on his face from the lack of manners (Kashuu didn't need to look at him or Yamato to know how they felt about him).
"Did I say something wrong?" Mitsu was just as confused. It was Yamato who got up and trailed after him. "Kiyo-ku…Uhm, Kashuu-kun?"
Okita lurked in the hallway and grimaced. The boy must have been too distraught to gripe over the use of a trivial nickname. The first time Yamato had used it in an attempt to bond with him, the response had been pretty much the same. They just hadn't chased after him that time. Muffled sobs got a little clearer as Yamato let himself into the room he'd obviously forgotten to lock.
"I…can't go if she's not with me. It's not fair to her." The words were whispered between wracking sobs. "I can't do this if she's not by my side."
"Who?" Even though Kashuu wasn't actually talking to him he still felt the need to ask.
"Mom." The word was choked out and he sounded like he was suffocating in his grief. Okita felt a pang of guilt. He remembered Kashuu mentioning he'd been alone since he was six on one of their rare talks. Seven years of mourning had to be painful.
A peek around the door revealed Yamato pressing him into a tight hug. "Kiyo-kun, Mitsu-san didn't know. She didn't mean to hurt you."
The boy slumped against his support and tried to steady his breathing despite the stream still trickling down his face. "I know…and don't…don't call me that." It was a weak protest. "You're not her. You can never replace her."
Kashuu lurched up abruptly, nearly knocking Okita flat onto his back. Somehow, he was drenched in sweat and he was hyperventilating. If he had a pulse, it would have been erratic. He looked around frantically, taking in the room and the strange creatures and only froze once he felt a pair blue eyes on him. Slowly, he turned his head towards them and it didn't take a second to recognize his owner. "Okita…san?" Okita was happy he was out of his delirium, but something still didn't feel right. Did he get his memories back? That would explain why Kashuu looked downright horrified at the mere sight of him, but the honorific didn't match. Kashuu hadn't called him 'Okita-san' since their first few months together years ago.
"What are you doing to him?" Okita spun around to the judge.
"The process has begun. Memories of his past life are returning in stages."
Okita's spine tingled. His past life? "So he'll have to relive everything? Not just the end?"
"So it must be."
"Okita-san, what's happening?" Maybe it was his imagination, but somehow Kashuu reminded him of the broken thirteen year old boy they had to put together again. He never imagined that maybe they didn't do a good enough job; that they hadn't fixed him as well as they thought they did. Okita smiled at him. "You'll feel better soon, okay?"
Kashuu's mouth fell open in a wordless question. Okita is smiling at me? Doesn't he hate me? But the thought of Okita actually smiling at him was comforting in the strangest of ways and he could feel the light tug of a memory at the very edge of his consciousness.
Fluffy blue hair bounced before him as Yamato jogged up the shallow steps to a shrine. "Kiyomitsu, Okita-kun, move a little faster would you?"
Kashuu scoffed loudly and Okita simply laughed and clapped him on the back. Kashuu pretended he wasn't alarmed at how the action nearly made him topple over. If Okita noticed, he kept quiet. "Why are you so excited anyways? Haven't you been to a shrine before?"
"Of course, but you haven't. I still can't believe it! Nineteen and you've never seen a shrine."
"You talk as if I'm to blame" Despite his attitude, Kashuu couldn't deny he was looking forward to this little expedition any less than Yamato. He could finally pay his respects to his mother the proper way. He pulled his coat tighter about himself; it was colder than it should have been and no matter what he tried he couldn't seem to get warm enough. Pressing his hands close together and blowing into them, he tried not to think about his anxieties, instead tried to focus on how happy he felt being around two people he loved the most.
"Are you okay?"
Kashuu's head jolted upwards. Yamato had stopped his ascent and turned around to look down on them. 'I don't know.' Kashuu groaned in annoyance and threw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm fiiiiine, so quit worrying already." And he picked up his pace just to show them that there was nothing wrong with him. Yamato rolled his eyes and turned back. Kashuu was hiding something, but he couldn't tell what. One could never be sure when it came to that boy.
Kashuu was biting down hard on his tongue. Did he look sick? Had Yamato found something out? He'd been losing a bit of weight gradually over the last three months and it was worrying him. He was looking paler and frailer and he found he had to apply more than the miniscule brush of foundation to look like a living person. It was frightening and he didn't know what to do, but most of all he didn't want to burden anyone.
He nearly tripped up when Okita suddenly appeared before him, stooping down. "Hop on. We'll move faster this way, don't you think?"
A lump formed in Kashuu's throat and he hissed out, "Okita! I can-"
"Yes, yes I know perfectly well that you can handle yourself just fine. Just bear with me for the time being. I really wanna see that shrine too you know?"
Kashuu hid his anxiety in an aggravated sigh. "You're all on my case today. Fine." The instant he slipped into place on Okita's back he cursed himself for the fool he was. It was far too easy for Okita to stand up, his ankles far too easy grip. Kashuu felt frail and doubtless Okita could feel his fragility too. 'He already knew.' Why else would he offer to carry him up? Kashuu pressed his face into his neck, willing himself not to let any weakness show. "Don't tell Yasusada."
"Even if I don't, it doesn't make a difference. He's already got a good enough suspicion that you're sick."
Kashuu didn't respond because he didn't trust himself not to break down into tears or into frustration. 'What is happening to me?'
They arrived at the shrine much quicker indeed and Kashuu gave Okita a silent thank you before he ran forward to punch Yamato on the shoulder. "Selfish. Couldn't you have waited for me?"
Yamato frowned at him and instead turned his attention to the grand wooden structure standing on concrete stilts. It wasn't massive, but it wasn't small either. Heavy wooden beams were painted red and gold and all sorts of small ornaments and trinkets decorated the bench. Kashuu walked around, looking for a clear spot and flicked out his phone. "Before we do anything, let's get a picture together."
Yamato's eyes sparkled and he was by Kashuu's side instantly whereas Okita simply strolled along like the old man he was. "Okita-kun," he whined. "Let's not waste any more time."
Kiyomitsu hummed his agreement as he pulled out his selfie stick and set his phone on it properly. They took three perfect photos and much to the other two's surprise, Kashuu took out a small portable printer and had them in hard copy in a flash. Yamato and Okita exchanged a look. Kashuu was unpredictable as always. "Well you came prepared."
"Of course I did. Expected anything less?" He pulled out a small album and placed the picture securely inside. "Okay, so like, how does this shrine thing work anyways? Is there a procedure I need to follow or something?"
Yamato nearly cracked up. "Who calls paying respects a procedure anyways?"
"Just shut up and tell me what to do."
"Okay, okay. First you put down your trinket, say whatever you want to then light the incense. We can all do that last part together."
"Alright, let's go Yasusada. We have to pay our respects too." Okita dragged him away before Kashuu could ask to be left alone.
Kashuu closed his eyes and basked in the momentary comfort that Yasusada's presence brought him. He kissed the book gently and placed it on the bench, long fingers stroking the leather cover gently. "Hey Mom. I miss you a lot, but you probably already know that."
He paused, swallowing back a lump. "I cry a lot lately, but now's not the time for tears, so I'll try to hold out for your sake. Yasusada and Okita carried me here today and I'm so grateful. I can finally get to do this the proper way, y'know. And I'm really grateful for all you did for me when you were still alive. If you'd walked out with Dad, then I wouldn't…I wouldn't even be here right now. It was thanks to you that I was able to meet them, so that's why I'm leaving these with you. Now that I know where this shrine is, I promise to come back again, okay?"
A crushing weight that had become part of the many burdens he had to bear was lifted off him. Kashuu backed away from the bench and prepared the incense for himself and the other two. It didn't take long for them to join him. "Eh? You're not crying?" Yasusada chuckled as he struck a match and lit the stick.
"Shut up idiot," but there was no real force behind his words. Kashuu felt more serene than he had in a long while and the others sensed it. He closed his eyes, breathing in the delicate sweet scent deeply. It was doing something wonderful to him – clearing his mind and freeing him from his earthly shackles. It was a divine feeling, but for some reason, it wasn't all that foreign to him and it was troubling. The supreme satisfaction and lethargy that settled into him after just a few deep breaths reminded him of the numb giddiness he used to feel when he worked in the Gentleman's Club. Then as suddenly as thunder rips through the air, a singing pain tore through his chest and he could hear someone coughing wetly. His eyes snapped open and he looked up at Yasusada and Okita. They seemed fine, so he looked down at himself to find blood staining his beige sweater and his legs sprawled out in front of him. The smell of the incense persisted and it made the air in his lungs thick and clouded his mind. When had he fallen down again? Another set of bloody coughs exploded from his lips and he doubled over on himself.
"Kiyomitsu!" Yasusada steadied his too light body and cursed himself for not noticing whatever this was earlier.
"Wh-at?" he groaned in between rattling coughs. Yasusada held him, not knowing what else to do. Okita was already on the emergency call. Kashuu's head spun and he felt nauseous and dizzy all at once. Worried faces drifted in and out of focus as if his vision was crossing and he couldn't prevent himself from collapsing into a crumpled heap onto Yamato. Yasusada lifted him onto his back where Kashuu lay limp as a ragdoll. If he couldn't feel the fluttering heartbeat against his chest then he would've thought he was dead. Okita lay a hand on Kashuu's back while explaining the details to the operator.
Hello all. It's been a while. These days are rough and writer's block is a devil. I fell in love with some of the characters in Touken Ranbu, this sword-based anime/game. There isn't a large fanbase for this so you may not be completely familiar with the series but don't worry, you don't need background knowledge (although it'd be really awesome if you do) to understand. The next and final chapter's already written and waiting to be posted.
Thanks to the faithful ones who still put up with my slackness, and also to any new readers. As always, reviews and messages are welcome.
Until next time.