(This is just a really wierd AU that got stuck in my head. If you must know, I just think it would be adorable if Mikazuki was Yamanbagiri's father. This story is partially inspired by a touken ranbu video version of the "You Are a Useless Child" song. Even though it's tragic I LOVE THAT VIDEO. Anyways, I own nothing and I hope you enjoy. Good day and God bless.)
Often you'd hear children speak of their dream of becoming a movie star. The majority of children wanted to stand on stage, having pretended to be anything from an astronaut to a werewolf, loved and adored by the populous.
It was odd but was accepted as a glamorous dream to children was the worst of nightmares to a young boy by the name of Yamanbagiri.
He, despite being told since he was very small that he had both the face and talent to be a very successful actor, could not think of any greater hell than this.
He was trash and he knew it. Yamanbagiri knew he was the copy, the twin that no one wanted.
His half brothers, Kunihiro and Yamanbushi told him otherwise. They were always very kind and supportive, far more than he ever deserved. He wanted to listen to them but the truth was undeniable. He was ugly, useless, pointless, worthless. His own mother hated him so much, she took her own life.
His mother was a sort of merchant. She was not cruel, rather she was just intelligent. She was the kind of merchant that sold love to men in the dead of night for money, so being pregnant for nine months was rather bad for business.
She loved her children and did her best to keep them but she was struggling with money and depression far more than anyone could ever know. The last thing she needed was another two mouths to feed, and yet here he was.
The twin ran away. Yamanbagiri didn't really even remember him anymore, nor did he miss him. The last he heard, he was accepted into the famous school called Osafune. It disgusted Yamanbagiri that, instead of helping their mother out, he chose to abandon her. The twin was as good as dead to him.
Even though he was a mere thirteen when it happened, he still felt as though he should have done something, anything to get money and buy his mother help but she always did everything in her power to keep her sons out of distasteful lines of work. The last thing she wanted was for them to end up like her.
She did this, and yet one day the struggle became too much. She took too many pills and died a peaceful death in the comfort of her own bed.
In her hands was a note. She told Yamanbagiri not to blame himself. She told him to smile because he was a beautiful child on the inside and out.
He was a disobedient child till the very end because he could do nothing but blame himself for this because he knew it was his fault.
The young man knew the truth and yet, somehow, when he found out who his father was, it only made him feel worse.
In black ink at the very bottom of the note was one simple sentence.
"Your father's name is Mikazuki Munechika."
Yamanbagiri's stomach dropped.
He knew that name. Everyone did.
Over a decade ago, Mikazuki Munechika was an incredibly popular actor and hailed as the most beautiful man in the world. He was talented, charismatic, handsome, rich, and overall perfect.
Surely it wasn't that same Mikazuki. Surely not. It was impossible.
Mikazuki was a movie star and he was just some orphaned teenager living on the street.
There was no way.
It was impossible.
Kunihiro always told him otherwise. Yamanbushi always said that he saw the resemblance and that Yamanbagiri was just as handsome as Mikazuki was.
Yamanbagiri appreciated their kindness, but he knew it was all lies.
He was not handsome, he was a hideous copy and a burden to those around him. Even if Mikazuki was his biological father, why would he want a useless son like him?
With that thought, he pushed Mikazuki to the back of his mind, almost forgetting about him entirely.
It was only when three years had past when the name was brought up again.
Yamanbagiri was sixteen now and unemployed.
Kunihiro was currently working as a slave to some rich boy called Kane or something. Kunihiro insisted he was the boy's partner and assistant but Yamanbushi and Yamanbagiri knew a slave when they saw one.
Yamanbushi was currently living in a buddhist temple up in the mountains where he was happy and well fed.
The twin was probably a successful business man by now.
Yamanbagiri was sixteen and unemployed. His family blamed his people skills but he blamed his entire existence.
Which one doesn't belong?
Somehow, he just could not seem to hold a job. He'd get sudden bouts of insomnia, he was too slow, he couldn't talk to people and sometimes he had a very short temper.
He had lost a lot of weight because he couldn't afford food and he didn't eat the food he was given. His brothers were worried and rightly so.
They really tried to help him but nothing seemed to work. He had grown awfully distant, he had even considered suicide a couple hundred times.
Nothing worked and yet they hadn't given up on him.
Finally, Kunihiro said something.
He, in a complete moment of genius, suggested that perhaps Mikazuki Munechika could help.
Yamanbushi didn't know if Kunihiro meant help with their brother's financial state or emotional state but he didn't care. Immediately, despite Yamanbagiri's fervent protests, he picked his younger brother off the ground and declared that his roaring muscles would deliver him to the man's front door.
Kunihiro stated simply that nothing bad would happen but if the man did treat his younger brother badly, he would make sure he would regret it. That gave them chills, knowing that when Kunihiro threatened someone, he meant it with his entire being.
Yamanbagiri just said no about a million times but his voice was unheard as his two brothers pushed him into the back of Yamanbushi's car and they began to drive.
He did everything he could to get away but his brothers had set their minds to this and nothing would deter them from this path. They would help out their youngest brother even if they had to try everything in the universe.
It began to snow softly then, like cherry blossoms falling.
Yamanbagiri's efforts to escape weakened as time went past only to quadruple in intensity when Yamanbushi found the retired movie stars house and arrived at the gates in front of it.
It was a mansion. A beautiful vast mansion and it was not something Yamanbagiri belonged. He nearly began hyperventilating when Kunihiro pried his hands of the seat and pushed him out of the car.
He really wanted to run away. He really truly did, but Yamanbushi and Kunihiro drove away and Yamanbagiri was not good with directions.
The gates stood in front of him like an enemy in an rpg, one where you couldn't use an item to flee from the battle. Perhaps Mikazuki was like the final boss or something.
Either way, at this point, he knew he couldn't leave. There was no turning back now.
And so, he walked forward, oh so very slowly, and lifted his finger to press the buzzer on the gate.
But, to his surprise and horror, the gates opened on their own.
He really would have run away in fear if he weren't frozen in place like a scared rabbit because from those opened gates walked out the most unusual sight.
He recognized him from the photos instantaneously. It was Mikazuki not looking a day older than he had a decade ago. Was the man immortal? Over his body was a thick shawl. He wore slippers and reading glasses and Yamanbagiri could not help but think he looked exactly like an old man.
Immediately, the man looked at him and said in an all too familiar tone, "Tsurumaru, isn't it your day off?".
Yamanbagiri had no idea who Tsurumaru was but his face immediately went tomato red.
Why was he talking to him so familiarly? Who the heck was Tsurumaru? Didn't he know he was terrible with people?
But the familiarity immediately faded from the man's beautiful two toned eyes and he looked at him closer.
"Oh, my apologize." He quickly said with a laugh, "Your white hood made me think you were the mailman. Young man, you look familiar. Tell me, who are you?"
It was in that moment he had convinced himself of two things.
One, this man was totally his blood father.
Second, there is no way his blood father would ever want to meet him.
And all Yamanbagiri could do was swallow really really hard. He hadn't blinked nor had he responded to the man's question for a solid minute and it was starting to look odd, so he thrust his body down in a really really low bow.
"I…...I-I'm sorry, sir…….." He stuttered, his teeth chattering frantically in this cold, "I….I…..I'm sorry for disturbing you….. I-I-I will l-l-l-leave….."
But before he could react, fingers reached out and tilted his chin up so that his face was visible.
Mikazuki was looking at him with something akin to remembrance and nostalgia.
"Oh yes…." He said in a quiet tone, almost a whisper, "I've seen those eyes before."
And, without further ado, he took hold of the young man's wrist and began to pull him inside the gates.
"You should come inside and have some tea. I take it you have something important to tell me."
(I don't know about you but have you ever just gotten this huge urge to write really dumb fanfiction at three in the morning? #WhatIsMyLife #Why)