Lost and Found
Between the pool of tears and the moment he finally gives up, Ishimaru lies in a long silence. There it a distinct emptiness to it, still different from nothing — it is a hollow shape, left by things that were washed away and can never be repeated.
His life gets caught in the lack of anything, of just one reason to — what used to be his greatest fear, the eternal horror of giving up, suddenly becomes his destiny. And in fact, once things come to a halt, he finds he does not remember the way back.
Hey, brother. It's me. And I am not leaving this time. But forget all about this, stop being an idiot and don't you dare, dammit-
Voices melt in his head, the words fall one by one, rain on fire. It is too fast to even notice, the way his eyes change in hue and the flames take over whatever was left untouched.
From the outside, everyone else watches, and nobody can tell whose tears they are anymore.
I ain't useful, am I? I never was in the first place. I can't even save you… not from here, brother…
The night flows far from his unaware conscience. Neither was ever fond of keyboards; now, time runs slower than his fingers. A kind voice answers his questions, although not all of them.
Then, sometimes, his other voice comes. He needs to hear it again, over and over. And dawn breaks, and they are not alone anymore.
You don't remember, brother, do you? What they stole from us… you just need to, y'know, dig up the past…
It feels so nice, the knowledge of what has been; now that he is free, he finally sees with his own eyes. Beacons on the streets fill the path, engines roar, a shy boy plays with a good dog; then a grown-up, sad and yet full of energy, looks up to the perfect brother he has. A motorcycle flies away; he follows, closely, without finding the end.
Why cannot you hear me? Fuck!
He imagines a cloudy morning beyond the window plates. His fingers mess with the note, the first scrap of hope in such long days; he wants to believe, he needs to, for the sake of all of them. He wants to show his lost brother; he wants to gift him with the freedom of the cold air, with the day he won't see anymore.
Fuck. Wake up, brother. Do you need me to call ya by your name? Wake up. Ishimaru Kiyotaka. Go back to the friggin' world NOW- AH!
The next thing he recognizes is a loud thud, and a lacerating force.
It takes his mind a heartbeat to go blank, and his chest swells with surprise as memories cascade in his head — the sunshine beyond a window and the pouring leaves in the fall, the walks and the laughter and the best grades, the happiness, and then a bully with such a big heart, a friend, his best friend —
Not you… not you too.
— and by the time he slips away, Ishimaru firmly believes that this kind of pain is much better.