For the SinJa Headcanon and AU Week: Day one, Reincarnation.
How many years had it been? No matter how much he tried, Ja'far couldn't recall. Just how many lives had he been searching for him?
With every new life, there were things that subtly changed, and the pale man feared one day so much would change that he wouldn't even recognize him, but his heart ached and told him that no matter what, he'd know Sinbad. How could he not? Sin was unforgettable, irresistible, irreplaceable.
He'd lived several lives without him, though he could barely remember most.
The first, he hadn't even known what was wrong. Something had been… Missing. It had ruined his relationship, caused him so much stress he didn't study, got kicked out of several schools, and being bullied and abused led to suicide.
Lives two and three, he did better. He had an average life, had children, and had a good job before being murdered in the second and died in an accident in the third.
The next several weren't so good. Ja'far had joined a gang and perished in a raid, became addicted to drugs and died from the overdose and fought in a bloody war, and died in action.
Something was always missing.
Those were the ones he could remember, but he never lived passed 31 in any of the lives he'd lived; that much he knew. And, he knew in his most recent life before this, that he'd met everyone else from his first life when he was seven. All the memories from every previous life had come rushing back to him, and together they'd figured out that it had been around two thousand years since they'd all died the first time.
And like that, everything fell into place. Rurumu and Hinahoho adopted him just as they did before, and things were almost reminiscent of how everything used to be, although they were all more normally sized and without the power of the djinns.
Except… Everyone still died at the same ages or before. Rurumu always died at twenty-seven, Mystras at eighteen or nineteen depending on when he was born, and Vittel and Mahad with them.
He wanted it to end. He wanted to stop it. But he couldn't. Ja'far couldn't change anything on that scale, only prolong the inevitable.
And then it happened.
He knew this life was somewhere around number seventeen, and he was eight years old. This time, Ja'far'd followed the path of his first life, that of an assassin. They'd sent him on a mission, some remote city, just to scope it out for a new base.
So he'd donned his civilian clothes; a black and white striped long sleeve shirt, jeans and sneakers with a jacket and small black backpack filled with medical supplies and weapons in case of an attack.
The buildings were somewhat modern, but there were a few older houses decaying around. Ja'far wondered why they'd set up base here; Out in the open, small town far from anything big, easy to track if you run to the area.
And then he realized why no one wanted to be here.
All around, no matter where he looked, were only children and women; This was an army town. Every man was shipped off to the war, and people usually avoided it because they didn't want the same to happen to them.
Damn this government. I could run it better in my sleep! Ja'far thought, glancing around the place. This country was constantly going to war, and in this sandy desert area, it showed the way they treated the families of their soldiers. The boy knew the only reason there were even somewhat modern buildings there was to keep the people docile, and keep the soldiers fighting because they had somewhere to go back to that was more pleasant than the battlefield.
Ja'far'd seen several towns like this, but he wondered why his boss wanted this place. So, carefully he gripped the pistol in his jacket, expecting to be jumped at any moment.
The people of the village ignored him, and whenever a child stared at him, their mother would quietly turn them around and chastise them.
"So this place doesn't get a lot of visitors, huh?" Muttered Ja'far, stopping when he heard a cheering from a distance and noticed a bunch of the children running in the direction he was walking.
"He's back!" They cheered, and the pale boy rolled his eyes. Children were very excitable.
Ja'far pondered what exactly they were so happy about, and decided to investigate. Staying about six paces behind the children, leaning against a wall and waited.
Coming into town on a bike with a small trailer filled with boxes attached seemed to be a teenager, barely, with a slim yet muscular build and… No…
Long purple hair.
The boy riding the bike had on jeans and a gray t-shirt, and Ja'far told himself not to get his hopes up. Don't do it. Don't…
When the bike stopped, and the teen got off the seat, he said, "Hey guys! They delivered the supplies today, so go on, let's bring this around."
The kids crowded the teen, and they shouted his name happily.
"Sinbad!"
"Sin!"
And Ja'far stood there, completely frozen, as Sinbad looked up from the children and made eye contact with him. Slowly, Sinbad's expression turned from happiness and joy to shock and tears started brimming his eyes. He started walking over to him, and the children moved out of the way.
Ja'far began crying as Sinbad grabbed him and held him tightly, whispering over and over again "Ja'far.. Ja'far you're here… I…" and other mindless things.
Sinbad pulled back from the hug for only a moment before kissing Ja'far gently and shakily, and Ja'far wrapped his arms around Sinbad's neck carefully, almost as if he would vanish at any moment.
Finally, for the first time since s arms around Sinbad's neck carefully, almost as if he would vanish at any moment.
Finally, for the first time since his first life, nothing was missing anymore.
When the kiss finally ended, Sinbad whispered, "What are you doing here?"
"I… It's a long story." Ja'far murmured, not wanting to tell Sinbad he was an assassin again.
"Then we don't have time for it; I've got so much to tell you!" The teenager let go of the hug and took ahold of his hand, and started walking towards the older part of the town.
"Sin! Sin where are you taking me?" Ja'far asked, making sure to keep up with him.
"To meet my mother, Ja'far. Oh, and while we're walking, you can tell me why you have these." Sinbad responded, holding up Ja'far's pistol and a small bag with white powder, not looking back at the smaller boy.
Ja'far didn't even begin to question how Sinbad got those from his pockets.
"I… Sin those are-"
"Tell me this honestly, did you become an assassin again, and are they keeping you with drugs?" Sinbad's tone was flat, concealing rage.
Ja'far was silent for a moment.
"Yes." He felt like he was facing down Rurumu again, being chastised for being how the guild trained him to be.
"Then, we're gonna get you off these and you're going to stop being an assassin; got it?"
This time, Sin didn't conceal his anger, tightening his grip on Ja'far's hand as they walked.
"Sin that's not-"
"I know it isn't an easy thing to do, but I've never shied away from a challenge before. Besides, I'm only here every thousand years, I'm going to fix things while I can, and that means making sure you live a clean life like you should."
Ja'far froze, halting his walking and he began to shake.
"Ja'far, I need you to listen. You… You don't need me. I don't know if I can fix things, or make it so I can be reborn like the rest of you guys can, but I'm going to try. You have to prepare yourself in case I can't."
"Stop it…"
"This is serious, Ja'far." Sinbad finally turned to face Ja'far.
"Stop it! The Sin I know would NEVER say can't! Never say try! He always just did it!" Ja'far yelled, and started crying again.
"I'm different here Ja'far… I screwed up in my first life… So I'm going to fix it now. I couldn't do it last time, and I did it the wrong way the first time. I'm asking you; Even if I'm different, will you still follow me?" Sinbad whispered, kissing away the tears.
Ja'far nodded, trying to rationalize what he was doing, but finding he didn't need to.
When you're with Sinbad, things will always change; And for better or worse, Ja'far would be right next to him.