Story Notes:
This story takes place in the modern time period of the Banana Fish anime, but borrows heavy influence from both the anime and the manga.
This chapter's theme/mood song is "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry
After Ash died I felt like I had lost a dear friend and like losing a dear friend I'll always be a little sad when I remember. I'm sure many of you feel the same way. T_T That's why I hope this fanfic is as cathartic for you reading it as it was for me writing it. Enjoy.
The Things He Carried
Lynx…Leopard…Lion…Beast…
Ash crouched in the grass, creeping closer and closer to his prey. The heavy musk of prey was so heavy it sat on his tongue. From Ash's pumping heart to the tips of his fur, his body cried for the heat of destruction. The air trembled in his presence.
His prey raised its head. Ears twitched. Legs kicked off the ground.
The chase was on.
Ash ran with everything he had. He couldn't let his prey escape, couldn't quit the hunt, couldn't stop. If he did, for some unfathomable reason, he knew he would surely die.
His body suddenly felt too small. An inferno inside him shook with the desire to shatter the cage of his bones, shed the flimsy confines of his skin and burst out of his mortal shell.
Roaring, he leapt and sank his fangs into the nape of his prey. Dark satisfaction overwhelmed him as blood filled his mouth. His prey kicked and thrashed, but it slowed to twitching and finally stillness. He withdrew to survey his work and froze. His prey shared his face.
Ash was both predator and prey, both powerful and powerless. Simultaneously, he was lying on the dirt dying and watching himself die from above.
He didn't hesitate to make the killing blow.
Buddhist Mythology…Asuras…heathen deities that fought the good deities…The Asuras are said to be fierce warriors, terrible demons…
The darkness was all Ash could see. It strangled him, violated him and nested in his lungs. Drifting in the void, he wondered what he had become, for his old mortal shackles were no more.
Was he a demon, a god, or something in between?
The inferno still burned inside him, almost like a hunger, a great nothingness longing to be full.
A light appeared, almost like a star, and he swam to it instinctually the same way babies instinctually missed the womb.
When Ash reached the light, he stood before a great feast for the gods. Glass and cutlery chimed. Carefree laughter bordered on careless. Among the rhythms of eating, the promise of never going hungry again whispered in his ear.
And so he fed.
Breaking glass. Laughter twisted into screams. The hunger inside him smiled.
As the blood flew, Ash distantly wondered if it was too late. Could he swim out of the hole he made for himself? Could he climb back down the mountain? But this was the useless pondering of a child, for he already knew the answer.
In the eyes of those he killed he finally saw himself.
He was a beautiful youth in fine, flowing robes hiding a malevolent monster within. How did I get this way?
Adorned with six arms, he killed without restraint to kill his great hunger. Will I ever be full?
On his shoulders sat three heads; each had a different face. Who's the real me?
He nibbled on rotting, sour envy in eyes that pierced him, and he grew bigger. He sucked sticky, sweet pride from the veins of deities, and he grew even bigger. He licked salty, bitter wrath stuck to his fingers, and he grew impossibly big.
Yet no matter how big his body grew, the inferno inside him was always bigger.
Even after Ash devoured the entire golden feast until there was nothing left, he was still hungry.
And so he ate himself.
Devil…The whole world will be at your feet…
Respect. Fear. And absolute power. Everyone bowed down to Ash or became ashes. He lived in a hell of his own creation.
There he sat upon a throne of bones atop countless corpses. A crown of steel and smoke adorned his hair. The entire world was his kingdom of fire. And still he felt nothing.
In his rebellion against evil, he became the greatest evil he had ever known.
The boy he used to be tried to run away from himself but died before he got the chance to escape.
And still, the inferno within him could not be satisfied.
So, he let himself burn.
Ash jolted awake in his bed—screaming. He covered his mouth. It was only another nightmare. It's okay. I'm okay, he lied to himself.
His blankets suffocated him like a coffin. He yanked them off and kicked them away.
Naked and trembling, Ash wrapped his arms around himself. Sweat drenched him as if he had sprinted through a hurricane. In his dreams he burned, but now he froze, icicles stabbing his insides.
Hurried footsteps thudded toward the bedroom. The door flung open. Eiji rushed to his side. "Ash, I heard screaming. Are you okay?"
The icicles instantly melted in the sun. Seeing Eiji's face always softened Ash's jagged edges. "Yeah, I'm fine, just had a few bad dreams."
Eiji cradled Ash's head to his chest. "I'm here for you, you know that, right?"
Ash deeply inhaled, trying to seep himself into the warm home of Eiji's scent. But Eiji smelled wrong, like rotting fruit. Ash shoved him away. "You're not Eiji."
"That was quick," Fake Eiji said. "You always had impressive instincts, Aslan."
Ash reached for his gun, but it was gone. He tackled the imposer and pinned him to the floor. "Where's Eiji?! What did you do to him?!"
"Don't worry, he's safe. You just no longer reside in the same world he does."
We never lived in the same world to begin with.
Fake Eiji wasn't lying, and he wasn't struggling. He smiled in an indulgent sort of way like he was humoring a kindergartener who was showing off a pipe cleaner giraffe.
In fact, Fake Eiji seemed oddly sweet and eerily familiar like Ash had known him since childhood, but that didn't change the fact that Fake Eiji raised red flags.
Question: If needed, how to kill Fake Eiji?
In less than a second, the options scrolled through Ash's mind.
-Smother him with the sheets on the bed
-Break his neck
-Break his spinal cord
-Break his balls
-Fatal brain damage via the temple
-Fatal brain damage via back of the head
-Fatal brain damage via the ears
-Gouge his eyes out
-Break the vase on the nightstand, slash his throat
-If he struggles, lure him to the next room and…
Fake Eiji laughed. "You instantly devised 9.5 different ways to kill me, didn't you? Ha, I love it. You're such a hootenanny."
This guy was dangerous and could apparently read minds, but he also had no real harmful intent at least for now. Besides, Ash was curious. His nose scrunched up. "What's a hootenanny?" he said as if he just sniffed an exotic dish and was debating whether to eat it or not.
Fake Eiji gently nudged him toward the dish. "Hootenanny: a celebration, a thingamajig, a folk music gathering. The usage of Hootenanny has transformed over the years, but the modern meaning was popularized in the 1950s and 1960s by Pete Seeger and Woody—"
"Alright, alright, I got it, Professor." Ash had his fill of exotic word delicacies. He sat on the floor to let Fake Eiji sit up. Ash shivered; he had forgotten he was still naked.
Fake Eiji waved his hand. "You seem quite chilly."
Ripped jeans and a white shirt manifested on Ash. He inspected his new clothes: They seemed alright, but they only made him more curious. He narrowed his eyes. "Thanks, but who are you anyways? You're too weird to be human."
Fake Eiji shook his head and smiled like he was dealing with a likable but slow child. "Memory loss is common especially after intense physical trauma like the kind you faced, but you're so astute: I assumed you would have realized sooner."
Ash felt young again like he was at the beach at Cape Cod—neck deep in water and paralyzed as a colossal wave's gaping maw prepared to engulf him. Yet, he was not afraid: He accepted the inedible.
"I've known you since you were 8 years old," Fake Eiji said. "And you know me better than most people ever will. Our paths often intersected, but we didn't officially meet until recently: At the New York Public Library."
Ash hissed. A sudden pain stabbed the side of his stomach out of nowhere. Blood bloomed from the wound as he pressed his hand against it. Panting, he stared at the real empathy in Fake Eiji's face and let the wave of memories crash over him.
Ash had been slumped in his favorite chair at the library and resting the side of his head against the cool surface of the table. It was a comforting position that reminded him of distant days where he slept at his school desk.
The wound at his side no longer hurt. Instead his body was dandelion seeds: incredibly light and ready to float away. His fingers caressed Eiji's letter as if to caress a cheek. Ash couldn't open his eyes anymore, but it wasn't a problem: he had already memorized the letter.
You are not alone, Ash. I am with you. My soul is always with you.
Even though the world taught Ash to never believe in anyone, he believed in Eiji, and so Ash knew he would never be alone again. Despite the chill outside, more than ever before, he felt warm.
A finger tapped his shoulder. "Aslan, it's time to go."
The voice was gentle and enticing. Ash had no reason to say no. "Alright, give me a minute. It might take me a while to move. I'm so comfortable…"
"Ssshhh, it's okay. I'll carry you," the voice said.
Ash didn't like depending on anyone, but this felt right. "Okay…thanks." He smiled feeling truly at peace for the first time in his life.
Bony yet loving arms cradled him like a newborn. Normally, Ash would bite, claw and kick because that was all he knew before he met Eiji, but now Ash didn't have to struggle anymore. And so, like Eiji did the first day they met, Ash flew.
Ash snapped back to the present gasping as if almost drowning.
He stared at Fake Eiji finally seeing him for what he really was. "You're Death. You took me away, and I…died."
"That's right, you got it," Death said as if Ash answered a question correctly during after school tutoring. "How do you feel? I imagine you're quite overwhelmed; many humans are after dying."
Ash clutched the side of his stomach where the wound was, but it was already gone: a phantom of a memory.
For most of Ash's life, no one gave a rat's ass about his feelings. He got used to burying them like dead bodies and donning masks to perform different roles. But that wouldn't work here, so Ash answered honestly. "I feel free."
"That makes sense," Death said. "You've lived a heavy life, heavier than most. It's no wonder you slept for such a long time: It must be a relief to finally get some rest."
After Death picked him up and before the nightmares, Ash actually slept well, better than he ever did while he was still alive, but rest was never a priority when he died. "Yeah, it was nice to sleep, but that wasn't what I meant."
Ash fiddled with lint on the carpet. "It's hard to explain, but by dying I freed a lot of people. Everyone I ever hurt finally got their vengeance. I can't kill anyone anymore. And…Nobody will go after Eiji with me gone; he can finally be safe."
Pulling apart the lint, Ash said lightly, "It's good I died. The world's better off."
Death stared. His eyes were no longer Eiji's. They were dark holes in space absorbing light, stars, galaxies and everything they came across. It was impossible to look away. The air around him vibrated to steer clear of his wrath.
"So, you're saying," Death said slowly. "Your life was a burden you freed everyone from."
Ash was used to intimidation, but this was on a whole other level. Still he would not be cowed. "Yeah, that's right."
Death's eyes narrowed. "And you think your life was worthless?"
Ash couldn't understand why Death simmered with rage. "Yeah, less than worthless," Ash said as if he was reading a history textbook aloud. "I was scum, a murderer, a semen toilet. You made the right choice picking me up before I could screw over anyone else."
The lights flickered. The burnt smell of lightning whirled and roared. Death's body warped like it couldn't hold its shape anymore and blared static like a TV possessed by ghosts.
Ash was witnessing power beyond his human comprehension, but he didn't care what happened to him. His friends were already safe.
Then like a spring storm suddenly passing the darkness ended.
Exhaling like a kettle whistling out steam, Death's features became normal again. "My apologies: That was rude of me. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Now I'm pleased we got to chat, but it's time to discuss business."
Ash tried to be as casual as possible as if he didn't just avoid a small cataclysm. "Good, I was thinking the same. What are you going to do with me now, Professor?"
Death tapped his chin. "I actually don't know. You're a conundrum to say the least. I need to have a few heated debates with my coworkers before we find you a place in the Afterlife."
"Just drop me off in Hell. It's where I belong, and I'm sure there'll be plenty of people down there who'll be happy to see me."
"I never met a human so eager to visit Hell. You're certainly don't fit expectations."
Ash snorted. "Speak for yourself. You're fluffier than cotton candy. Don't get me wrong, you're dangerous, but even Eiji has more bite to him if you push him right."
Death conjured a mirror with a swipe of his hand. "In social psychology there's a concept called 'the looking-glass self.' Have you heard of it?"
"Yeah, I studied some psychology in my free time." He needed to learn how to motivate and manipulate people early on. "It's definitely more useful than the obscure history of outdated words." Ash smirked.
Death ignored the barb like a mother ignoring a fussy toddler pulling on her apron and touched the mirror. "If one's sense of self and behavior is influenced by how others see them, why would I be any different? I become what humans perceive me as which is usually much more terrifying than how I look now.
"You have a unique perception of me, and I became that perception. You viewed me as sweet, peaceful and enticing." Death put his hands on his cheeks and grinned. "And so I took on the form you find the most sweet, peaceful and enticing."
Ash scowled. "You can copy any face. I don't even care if you swipe Dino's ugly mug, but don't wear Eiji's face." Ash's eyes darted away. "Please."
"My apologies: I was being rude again, wasn't I? I'm taking an empathy course right now, but there are some things you can't learn in a classroom." Death tapped the mirror, and his Fake Eiji façade morphed into a black cat. "Better?"
"A lot better…Thank you." Ash smoothed Death's sleek fur.
Death purred in response. "I appreciate your honesty. Others try to deceive me, but you don't."
Buzz…Buzz…A cell phone was going off. "Gadzooks!" Death said. "I really have to run, but we'll meet again soon."
Death bound toward the open window and paused. "Until we decide where you'll go, you're free to do what you wish. Trust your heart. You'll never be able to escape from it. So it's better to listen to what it has to say."
He winked and disappeared out the window.
Last time I ever trust my heart, Ash thought as he dodged flying fish hurled by men wearing giant bananas.
He was in some type of fish market. Everyone scrambled from stall to stall throwing or catching seafood while shouting gibberish together; it might have been English, but it could have easily been any language.
After Death had left, Ash had laid in bed trying to listen to his heart or whatever. Next thing he knew he was laid out on a giant pile of salmon.
He now sprinted around the fish market hunting for an escape.
"Ash, is that you?" A familiar voice shouted above the cacophony. Ash never thought he would hear that voice again.
"Skip! What are you doing here?" Ash shouted back.
A mustached banana man flung shrimp at Skip like ninja stars while making pew! pew! pew! noises. Skip caught them with a gloved hand and tossed them into a bag with practiced ease. "What am I doing here? I live here! I always swing by here on Sundays. You wouldn't think it, but this fish market has great Rum and Coke."
Skip flipped a few coins to the vendor who tossed two bottles back in return. They exchanged nods before Skip turned his full attention to Ash. "I can't believe you're really here. It's like some kind of dream. Wait, why are you here?"
Ash wondered that himself but answered instinctually. "I wanted to see you, Skip." And as soon as he said that, Ash knew the purpose with the time given to him. Skip grinned, and Ash couldn't help but smile back. There were too many people he wanted to see again.
Black hair and eyes the color of night came to mind.
Then a flying squid nailed Ash in the face. The squid oozed down, fell on the wet cement with a loud smack and quickly crawled away.
"Let's get out of here," Skip said. He made a valiant effort not to snicker. Bless Skip. Another certain someone would have laughed his ass off. The beautiful bastard.
As they left the fish market, Skip clued Ash in on what the hell was going on.
In the Afterlife reality could be molded by the imagination. Skip had always wanted to build and live in an amusement park, so he had worked on his dream in the Afterlife. Word got out, and soon other souls moved in and contributed their own ideas till Skip's dwelling got more than a little wild (e.g. purple flamingos kept stealing Skip's sneakers), but he liked it that way.
Together Ash and Skip crawled through wire tunnels in the sky, slid down 10-story slides, climbed through broken planes, explored ancient caves and fled from an elephant-sized hamster. The hamster eventually caught them, but she only wanted hugs, so all was forgiven.
Soon they arrived to a half junk-yard, half play-ground sort of place. Children and 8-legged dogs scampered over old mattresses. Invisible hands built swings out of tires and bottle caps. Sizzling barbecue beef marinated the air with the promise of umami and spices. Perfectly at ease in the happy chaos, Skip handed his bag of shrimp to a sequin-suited woman who tended the barbecue.
Ash and Skip ducked into a burrow that led to the inside of an old bus with all the seats removed. Skip pointed at a floating TV and Xbox at the back of the bus. "Wanna play some games?"
"Sure, why not?" Ash said. He never actually played video games before; he never had the time to, but since dying he had experienced a lot of new things all at once. It made him feel young, raw and exposed like a baby turtle crawling to the ocean.
They started with Mario Kart while they sipped the Rum and Coke Skip brought. Ash caught on to the goofy driving of Mario Kart quickly but needed more explanation with Super Smash Bros.
Skip scrolled through a bunch of backgrounds. "First, we gotta pick our battleground. Since you're my guest, I'll let you pick. If you want suggestions, Final Destination is a classic and—"
"How about here?" Ash pointed at a background with a Japanese castle accompanied by a vivid sunset. It looked like the sort of place where 8 million gods slept. Why don't you come to Japan with me?
"Suzaku Castle? Niiiccceee. The music's really good there."
The next screen had dozens of cartoon characters Ash couldn't recognize. Skip continued explaining. "Next you pick who you wanna fight with. Sonic's super fun and fast. Bowser's a powerhouse and easy to learn. Oh and there's Mario who's average all around, but there's something real honest about how he fights. And then…"
Ash chose Mario. He was one of the only characters Ash knew, but besides that, Ash found something profoundly appealing about an "honest" character. He decided not to think too deeply as to why that was.
Skip picked a mysterious-looking, blonde ninja in bandages. "I mainly play with Sheik," Skip said. "She reminds me of you: Fast, tough and full of surprises."
Before playing, Skip quickly explained how they each had a damage meter and 3 lives called stocks. "Your main goal is to make me lose my 3 stocks first by either knocking me out of bounds or landing a strong enough attack on me when my damage is high."
They played for a while in silence. Ash quickly adapted to the game mechanics, and his honed reflexes were a good match for Skip's enthusiasm and experience. They each had 2 stocks left.
Mario was in the middle of aerial combos mixed with meteor barrages when Ash finally gathered the courage to say it. "The day you were shot…I couldn't protect you. You were so young when you died, Skip. I'm—"
"You died young too, Ash," Skip said.
Sheik vanished, reappeared and sent Mario flying into the air with a kick combo.
Ash vaguely registered that his damage meter soared way over 100%. The rising percentage turned a rusty red like a warning or like a scab he couldn't help but pick at. "Yeah, but I got what was coming to me. I was always a troublemaker, but you were different: You were a good person, a really good person. You could have lived a normal life if you never met me. You would have been better off."
Skip hesitated before he replied. "People normally see me as…cheerful, but I wasn't always like that. I was the middle kid of a big family. For most of my life I felt useless, invisible, like nobody ever saw me."
Mario and Sheik got into a cycle where she knocked him far away from the platform, he recovered enough to barely grab onto the ledge and then she blasted him away again.
Hollowness numbed Ash's chest. Even though he had spent so much time with Skip, he never truly knew him, but then again maybe he didn't truly know anyone. His life style had never allowed him to get close to people (with one exception).
Skip continued. "But then I met you. You gave me a job, and it let me bring money back to my family, but more than the money you and the gang made me feel important, worthwhile like you saw me. That's why I always looked so happy around you guys because I was happy the happiest I ever been in my life. So please don't ever say it would have been better if I had never met you."
Ash didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all.
Sheik's tenacity won, and she finally knocked Mario out of bounds. He quickly reappeared onto the platform with 0% damage almost as if he was purified. Skip-2 stocks. Ash-1 stock.
For a while they returned to a casual exchange of blows.
"You know," Skip said quietly, "I wanted to make an amusement park because I wanted to make a place where everyone could be happy no matter who they were or where they came from. Even though it wasn't in the way I expected, my dream still came true."
The video game music grew faster.
"It's a good dream," Ash said. "But do you think everyone deserves to be happy?"
Mario unleashed a powerful up smash and sent Sheik flying out of bounds. 1 to 1 stocks. The end was near. Sheik became a flurry of punches and kicks when she returned.
"I don't know," Skip said. "But I know one thing for sure. I want you to be happy."
Mario faltered. Sheik grabbed him and slammed him into the ground.
"I idolized you, you know?" Skip said. "With your Smith & Wesson .357 magnum gun with the cut barrel you were unstoppable like a real life superhero."
Sheik constantly jumped around and landed devastating blows as soon as it seemed like Mario got the upper hand again.
"But after I died," Skip said, "I sometimes caught glimpses of how you and the gang were doing on Earth, and I realized you weren't an invisible superhuman." Skip's Sheik was going nuts, going in for the kill. "You got hurt and cried and suffered more than anyone else, but you always stayed strong and always kept going. It made me admire you even more…No matter what, you'll never stop being my hero, Ash."
Sheik sent Mario flying; he became a distant star disappearing on the horizon. The game narrator bellowed "GAME!" and Sheik cut a victory pose.
Ash put down the controller and flopped down on the floor. He couldn't argue with that sort of unwavering conviction. Was it okay for Ash to daydream, even a little bit, that his life was more than sex and destruction? That he had done some good?
"I completely lost. Good game," Ash said with an arm over his eyes.
"I can't believe today was your first time playing," Skip said, slapping his hands on the ground. "You did aaammmaaazing. I barely won. You have to visit more, so we can play again."
Ash still didn't know what was going to happen to him and where Death would eventually put him. He was used to imagining the worse case scenario, but like when he was invited to go to Japan he wanted to hope in a better future at least for a little while. "Thanks, Skip, I'll have to take you up on that."
Later Ash and Skip lined up next to the barbecue, and the sequin-suited woman handed them a few beef & shrimp skewers. They leaned back against a beat-up, 1985 blue mustang and demolished their food.
"How is it?" Skip said.
Feeling satisfied with food in a way he hadn't felt since Eiji gave him soup in the sewers, Ash responded the only way he could. "Wonderful, exactly what I needed."
The weather was wonderful in Central Park, but Ash couldn't relax. He sped-walked—head down and hands in his pockets.
Nobody was bothering him. Nobody was following him. Nobody was endangering him. So why did he flinch at every new sound like an addict on withdrawal?
In life Ash constantly had a purpose. Survive. Kill. Protect.
Even when Ash had seemed like he was relaxing, he was always prepping for the next fight. But now?
He was already dead, he didn't have to kill anymore, and everyone he wanted to protect was safer with him gone. Eiji's safe now. Stop worrying. Stop worrying. Stop worrying.
Ash was finally free, but it tasted like a fermented lie. Something horrible was bound to happen. It always did. He had to get ready. He had to do his research. He had to—
"Out of the way, Midget!" a hulking man riding a tiny tricycle shouted. Ash leapt away in time and flipped off the guy. It was strangely comforting that whether in the Living World or the Afterlife assholes were everywhere in New York City.
It was weird though. Midget. He wasn't a giant like Blanca, but he couldn't be called fun-sized either. Now that he thought about it everything did look a little bigger than usual. His body might have been smaller too.
Ash swiped a mirror from a woman carefully applying lipstick and tossed it back to her as she squawked at him. His suspicions were right: He was younger and looked about 14 years old.
But why? He didn't will it to happen the way Skip willed his amusement park into existence. This had to be the work of something or someone else.
"I was wondering when you would get here. Can you come sit with me, Ash?"
Ash froze.
Looking exactly like he remembered her, Irene Vega sat on the park bench waiting for him. She was the first and last girl Ash ever let himself love.
They had met when they were both 14 years old. He'd been banged up from a fight and had limped through Central Park with a bleeding arm until Irene stopped him. She insisted on bandaging him up though his glares made her tremble.
As she wrapped him, she nervously chatted about current movies, music and cat memes. It was a truly mundane conversation but also painfully refreshing.
After years of forced prostitution and Dino's "education," she made him feel like a normal teenager for once. When she asked to hang out again, he didn't say no.
They met several times after that at Central Park to eat cheap ice cream and wander aimlessly.
He learned she needed speech classes as a child because she used to mix up the b and v sounds, she always had extra mantecaditos in her backpack to share with friends, and she wished "Dog Cuddling" was in the Olympics so she could compete.
Irene had nothing to do with his world of darkness. In his mind, she represented everything good and normal in the world, and he quickly realized he loved her.
When Ash had first met Eiji, he reminded Ash a lot of Irene, especially after Eiji bandaged his arm the first day they met. But Eiji quickly became his own person in Ash's mind. Ash was always more anxious around Irene compared to Eiji; he was constantly afraid she would discover his past and run away.
Apparently, he had nothing to worry about because she never needed to make that choice. A month after they met, a street gang murdered her because they thought she was Ash's girlfriend. One by one, Ash killed them all using Blanca's training, but afterwards he knew he couldn't be with normal people again.
"It's good to see you again, Irene," Ash said quietly. His body was a boulder: dense and heavy. He sat on the bench far away from her.
Suddenly, it got chillier and windier. Gray clouds rolled in. The trees lost their green to pale autumn colors in seconds.
Between Ash and Irene the tyrant of silence reigned. Ash clenched his fists till his hands bled. She combed through her long, brown hair with her fingers, a fidgety habit she kept from when she was alive.
Ash attacked the silence with the dread of a rebel leading a final charge. "They killed you because of me. You had nothing to do with my world but got dragged into it. Nothing I do or say can ever make things right. I'm…I'm sorry for everything."
Apologizing felt like the only thing he could do now, but in life Ash had avoided it because it left him as a belly-up animal: too open and too vulnerable. Besides, he had been afraid once he said "Sorry" he wouldn't be able to stop. I'm sorry for being a killer. I'm sorry for being a whore. I'm sorry for being alive.
"It's getting cold, let's go for a walk instead," Irene said while standing.
Surrounded by rusting light posts and golden elms losing their golden leaves, they moved through Central Park.
Irene tucked her hands in her coat pockets. "My older sister was the first one in the family to graduate from high school. She was salutatorian for her class and wrote this beautiful speech to give at graduation. We were all so proud of her.
"About a week before the graduation ceremony, my mom, my sister and I planned a girls' night out to buy nice clothes for the big day. My mother and sister had work, so we agreed to meet up later. I headed to the mall first, but I never made it there.
"I got pulled into an alley. There was this group of 6 or 8 guys. It's hard to remember the details now; I don't like to think about it. They beat me, raped me and shot me.
"But right before they killed me one of them got really close to my face. I'll never forget how gross his breath was—like rotting meat and stale cigarettes cooked in toilet water. 'No hard feelings girlie,' he said. 'We were told to send a message to Ash Lynx, so if you gotta hate someone, hate your boyfriend.'
"I was so confused at first. Boyfriend? I had never even kissed a boy before let alone have a boyfriend. I died denying it and begging for my life."
The sun disappeared as snow invaded the skies. Leaves littered the muted earth and left behind skeleton trees. Howling, the wind sliced like switchblades. An unforgiving winter raged.
Irene held out her hand to watch snow melt on her skin. "I watched my family prepare for my funeral and bury my body. My dad didn't speak for days. My mom lost half her hair. My sister skipped her graduation. If I had to choose between experiencing my death or my funeral again, I would always pick death.
"I knew it wasn't your fault, Ash, but I couldn't help but think: If I had never met him none of this would have happened. In the Afterlife sometimes I had day dreams of becoming a ghost, so I could haunt you and everyone who hurt me. I hated you, and that could never really go away."
Ice squeezed Ash's insides. Even though he had known deep down that being with Irene would put her in danger, he had stayed. His selfishness had killed her, had permanently scarred her family. The weight of all his sins pressed him like an inescapable gravity.
Invisible hands grabbed him everywhere ready to drag him to Hell. Ash longed for the inferno from his dreams to consume him.
He once dreamt Eiji could cleanse his soul, but he was wrong. His soul was too dirty.
Irene's voice rang out like a bell in an empty concert hall. "And I wish it was that simple. That I hated you and that was the end of it. But then I saw you visit my grave in the rain bawling your eyes out when nobody else was around. I saw you hunt down everyone in that gang that hurt me. I saw you suffer over and over again."
She stopped walking and turned to fix Ash with a firm stare. "Then I realized I didn't need to become a ghost to punish you because you punished yourself more than I ever could.
"I slowly remembered why I approached you in the first place. Since we first met you were that beautiful boy with sad, old eyes. I wanted to help you. I wanted you to act your age. And most of all, I wanted you to get out of whatever darkness you were trapped in. Even after everything we've been through, I still want that."
The howling wind became a cool breeze. Baby leaves budded. Even though it started sprinkling, the sun bathed the park in warm light. A sudden April shower embraced spring.
Ash shook his head. "That…that doesn't make any sense."
"Yeah, I was confused too for a long time," Irene said. "But I finally realized all the hate in my heart was making me hate myself. And I didn't want to be like that anymore."
She stared at two juvenile squirrels chasing each other around a tree. "Death gives you the chance to reflect a lot, and I've been thinking: What's most important in life?"
It was a good question—one Ash never got the time to think about before.
Irene's voice became quiet but strong: A shaking fawn standing for the first time. "Even though how I died and all of my pain will always be a big part of me, it wasn't the most important part of my life.
"When I think of what was most important, I think of other things. I think of the smell of simmering garlic and throwing plantains at my laughing sister as we made mofongo. I think of singing Pan de Vida at my neighborhood church and a hundred voices pulsing alongside my heart beat. I think of everyone I ever loved and everyone who ever loved me."
Irene looked up at the wide, open sky. "I am more than my tragedy."
One of Ash's clearest childhood memories was breaking his favorite bowl. He had cried for hours until Griff super glued the pieces back together and told him: "It'll never be the same, but it's still a good bowl. You can still keep it."
There was worth in the broken. Ash had forgotten until now.
They reached the end of the walkway and stood at the top of Bethesda Terrace overlooking the famed Bethesda Fountain. An Angel stood on top of the fountain: lily in one hand and the other reaching out to bless the water around her.
Now there is at Jerusalem by the sheep market a pool, which is called... Bethesda... whoever then first after the troubling of the waters stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had.
Irene turned to him. "What was most important in your life, Ash?"
Violence, goodbyes and clinically-applied numbness built the majority of his life, but that wasn't what he focused on. Instead he thought of slices of borrowed time—sparkling like light clinging to sea foam at sunset.
Laughing, two beers next to each other and late night conversation. A warm embrace that could stop his trembling. A promise that tasted like freedom.
"My reply's the same as yours," Ash said. "It was all about these little moments."
A pigeon landed on the fountain angel's wing.
"You've changed," Irene said. "You look like the same Ash I met when we were 14, but your eyes are softer. Did you meet someone special?"
Ash looked away. "Yeah, you could say that."
"Hmmmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "Do you want to see that person?"
"More than anything, but that's not possible anymore." A distant airplane flew by.
"You would be surprised: Death might help if you ask. I visited my sister and parents a few times and—"
"I don't deserve to see him." The plane disappeared on the horizon.
Irene tapped her fingers along the terrace railing. "No matter what I say you're not going to change your mind, so I won't argue with you. But I will say this: Whether you think you deserve to see him or not is irrelevant. If you both miss each other that's what counts."
Ash didn't respond.
She sighed and shook her head. "If you were teleported into a young adult novel, you would be the antsy, brooding bad-boy. I can't believe I used to have the biggest crush on you. Past me had awful taste in men."
"Wait, what did you just say?" Ash said, blinking rapidly.
"Things worked out for the best. You would have been a crap boyfriend anyways."
He snorted. "What makes you say that?"
"I can tell: You probably made your special person worry and cry all the time. Staying up all night fretting over you? Nope, I'll leave my tears at the door, thanks."
Ash laughed so hard people stared. "What's gotten into you? I don't remember you being so blunt."
"Dying helps with that. It sort of makes you stop giving a shit."
"Ha, makes sense," Ash said, watching children splash each other at the fountain. "And…for the record, I used to have the biggest crush on you too," he murmured.
Irene smiled but said nothing.
The day warmed as the sun climbed higher in the sky. The trees were a sea of dark green. To move meant to swim through humidity. Summer was already in full swing.
"Irene," a harsh voice disturbed the peace. "What the hell is this midget doing here?" Tricycle Hulk was back.
Ash tilted his head. "And what the hell are you doing out of the circus?"
Irene put a hand on Tricycle Hulk's shoulder quickly. "Tranquilo, Babe, he's just an old friend. You got nothing to worry about anyways. You're 200 times prettier than he is."
Ash had half a mind to be insulted, but let it go. It was a novelty being called ugly for once.
"Besides," Irene said, "we need to get ready, remember? My sister's graduating with her doctorate today, and it's going to take a while to find my parents in the crowd."
"Oh, right! Let's go." Tricycle Hulk picked Irene up like a toddler and put her sitting on his shoulders. "I got doughnuts if you get hungry on the ride over. They're the baked blueberry kind from that one shop you like." He handed Irene a box from his tricycle basket.
She hunched over to kiss his cheek. "You're the best, Babe."
Tricycle Hulk glowed under the praise like a big puppy before scowling at Ash and pedaling his bike into the air.
Irene winked as she and Tricycle Hulk floated away like a hot air balloon. "You aren't the only one who found someone special, Ash!"
An angel, vampire and a werewolf walk into a Chinese restaurant…Ash wished this was the beginning of a shitty joke, but instead it was his shitty reality. Said werewolf was clever enough to scram when asked, but the vampire couldn't take a hint.
He leered at Ash. "Hey Angel, don't tell me a hot, young thing like yourself is alone tonight."
"Get lost, Leech," Ash said, adjusting his wings. Why were they so itchy? As soon as Ash entered the restaurant, he sprouted wings, and his clothes morphed into loose robes. He looked about 15 years old too, so of course the creeps flocked to him.
The vampire wasn't dissuaded. "I could get lost in those heavenly eyes. Wanna see what else I'm good at sucking besides blood?"
"Oh yeah," Ash said with his voice dripping in honey. He leaned in so close their noses almost touched. His voice dipped low. "Wanna see a stake through your dick?"
Protecting his crotch, the vampire scampered off.
"Jeez, looks like someone's popular as ever," Shorter said, approaching the table with jellyfish soup on a tray.
Ash pointed an accusatory finger. "You! This is all your fault. Make my clothes change, get rid of the wings, something."
Shorter held up a hand in defense. "Hey man, don't look at me. A lot of freaky shit happens in the Afterlife. A lot of it is unconscious too. Not my fault. Besides, you look great!" He put the soup on the table. "Can I get you anything else?"
Ash let his head hit the table with a soft thud and waved off Shorter. "Don't worry about me so much. You guys are busy right now."
Ash sat at a table in Chang Dai—the Afterlife's version of the restaurant Shorter and his family ran in the Living World. After dying, Shorter worked here with his parents while Nadia still ran the Chang Dai in the Living World.
It was currently peak hours, and a mixed bag of supernatural creatures packed the restaurant.
Tinkling their glasses together, a table of goblins sang around a plate of dumplings at least 7 feet tall. A creature wearing an expressionless white mask gobbled a feast laid out by his froggy henchmen. Little ghost girls bounced on a pork bun as big as a bed.
A woman from the kitchen yelled something in Mandarin. Shorter yelled back in Mandarin while blushing furiously. He ran off. "Well, gotta go, wait a while, and I'll bring you something tasty on the house."
Ash shouted back. "If you cooked it, I don't want it."
Several customers who seemed like regulars called out to Shorter as he walked past, and though he was busy he would always grin and greet them. Ash couldn't help but feel relieved. Shorter hadn't changed at all.
Eventually, customers trickled out of Chang Dai till Shorter and Ash were the only ones left. As Shorter finished wiping tables he said, "How was the grub? My cooking's improved, right?"
When he was alive Shorter had cooked everything unevenly and had used way too much salt. Now though, Shorter's cooking had mellowed out. The shrimp lo mein actually wasn't too bad, but Ash wasn't about to admit it. "You're a great cook—for the chickens out back."
"Yep, same Ash," Shorter said, putting his cleaning supplies away. "Now you only need to call me 'Baldie' or 'Melonhead,' and all will be right with the world."
Just to spite him, Ash complimented his mohawk.
They sat together and listened to the humming florescent light tubes for a while. A fly buzzed next to one of the lights.
"You know," Shorter suddenly said, "In school we all had to read this passage from a book called The Things They Carried. I don't remember a whole lot of it, but bits and pieces stick out. It was about soldiers carrying all sorts of stuff: Guns and gum; comic books and bibles; grenades and good luck charms…"
Shorter rubbed his eyes and whispered, "But more than the physical things they carried, they carried the weight of their memories, their fears and their pain."
Taking off his sunglasses, Shorter revealed tears streaming down his face. "You set me free when you shot that bullet, but asking you to do that was too cruel. You've always carried more than anyone else. I shouldn't have made you carry me too."
Ash balled his hand into a fist. Shorter did nothing wrong. Ash should have been the one repenting. He should have been smarter, fought harder. He should have thought of another way. He should have…
Even though Ash's first instinct was to yell all of that out loud, it wasn't the right thing to do. Apologizing and unleashing his guilt would be more for his sake than for Shorter's. No, that wasn't what Shorter needed.
Clenching his teeth, Ash grabbed Shorter's wrist and dragged him outside. Ash flapped his wings and lifted off the ground. His movements were shaky, but it would have to do. He shoved his arms underneath Shorter's armpits.
"Wait, Ash, what are you doiiinnnggg?!" Shorter screeched as they launched into the air. He squirmed and kicked. "Let me gooooo, I'm terrified of heiiiggghhhtttsss."
"Stop struggling or I really will let you go! You're already dead, what are you so worried about?" Ash yelled.
"You can still feel pain in the Afterlife, and it's gonna be hella painful if you drop me," Shorter said, trembling. At least he wasn't struggling anymore.
They flew high enough to feel a sharp drop in temperature but low enough to still recognize the cramped, colorful buildings of Chinatown.
Ash glided with his body parallel from the ground, and in his arms Shorter hung down limply. Shorter was heavy but manageable.
"So besides torturing me, why the night flight?" Shorter said. "Is it revenge? Are you still mad about the angel thing? I swear I'm not making you look like that on purpose. In the Afterlife your looks change when you enter someone else's territory. It's influenced by your relationship with that person. But maybe if you—"
"You're a fat-ass, Shorter." Ash said, interrupting him.
"Wait, what—?"
"You're heavier than a bag of bricks."
"Yeah, okay, why—"
"But that doesn't mean I'm too delicate to carry you!"
Ash felt Shorter's eyes boring into him from below, but Ash stubbornly continued looking ahead.
Tightening his grip, Ash said, "Don't underestimate me. No matter what happened in the past and no matter what happens in the future, I'll always be strong enough to carry you."
And as soon as Ash said it, he was shocked to realize it was true. Shorter's death had destroyed something in Ash. He used to only kill when he had to, but after killing Shorter Ash killed until he didn't recognize himself anymore.
He had desperately hoped if he bloodied his hands enough, Eiji wouldn't have to. He had desperately hoped if he broke himself into enough pieces, Eiji could remain whole. And most of all, he had desperately hoped if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't have time to think about how damaged he was.
Ash had always felt like his body was too small and too weak to carry the weight of his past like he was tasked to carry the ocean when really he could only try not to drown. Shorter's death dumped fuel onto those feelings. But if Ash couldn't carry that weight, the people he loved suffered, and he couldn't let that happen anymore.
"You know," Shorter suddenly said, "When I first met you in juvie you reminded me of that angel in Nadia's Christmas card mainly because of your looks, but it's more than that now. You make fun of me all the time, and you don't like to show you care, but you always watch over me and everyone else you care about so carefully—like a real guardian angel…Thanks for being my angel, Ash."
Silence.
"Oh look," Ash said lightly. "My hold is slipping. Maybe I will drop you."
"Oh my god, I take it back," Shorter said. "You're not an angel. You're a demon, a demon I tell you! Let me down! Let me down! Let me down!"
Despite Ash's threats, he brought Shorter safely back to the ground with no issues.
Shorter's Mandarin Conversation:
Shorter's Mom in the Kitchen: "Stop flirting with your girlfriend and get back to work!"
Shorter: "He's not my girlfriend, Ma!" *blushes furiously
Wanted: Beta (Fish) Reader
Do you have experience swimming through the turbulent seas of editing and fanfic beta reading? Do you want to be among the first to gobble up this story? Do you love metaphors as flowy and iridescent as betta fish fins? Then please for the love of all that is good and Banana Fish message me.
Not gonna lie fam, this is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and I know I'll need help. Because I love Banana Fish too damn much not to try my absolute best.
References in this Chapter (For geeks and nerds who love to learn)
1.) Ash's Asura dream is based off of a Buddhist story about an anger eating Asura.
2.) Death's line about never escaping your heart is slightly modified from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It's one of those books that casually changes your life forever.
5.) Skip's Fish Market is based off of the very real Pike Place Fish Market in Seattle. Skip's amusement park is also based on a real place (that I reeeaaalllyyy want to go to) City Museum in St. Louis, Missouri.
6.) Bethesda Fountain is also a real place you can visit in Central Park.
7.) Anyone catch the Spirited Away reference? ;)
8.) The Things They Carried by Tim O'brien is a Vietnam War novel which ties in real well with the original time frame of the Banana Fish manga. It's too bad The Things They Carried (published in 1990) was slightly too modern for Banana Fish to allude to; it would have made a great episode title for the anime!
Look forward to more book/media/real life references in future chapters. : )