Notes: Oh, my goodness, I can't believe I've gotten brave enough to
actually *post* one of the half-dozen fics I have sitting on my computer.
Well, this is what happens when you're too interested in English and
Psychology and then develop an obsession with _Yami no Matsuei_: you come
up with vignettes for the characters you think are misunderstood. I'm not
a huge fan of Nagare, but I must confess that I find his relationship with
Hisoka fascinating. I think there's more to him and his relationship with
Hisoka than most people give him credit for, especially considering how
rarely it is in _Yami_ that a character is who he/she first appears to be.
And a guy can't be *all* bad if Tatsumi likes him, right? Also, I found it
very interesting that in Gensoukai, Hisoka first draws a parallel between
SohRyu and his father when he sees SohRyu smile at his children. So I
asked myself: can a father *really* hate his child? Honestly? Or at
least, can a parent go from loving a child to hating their child so easily?
And if not, why would Nagare treat Hisoka the way he did? This takes
place during, I believe, the Kyoto arc, maybe a little before, but it's not
particularly important. The important thing is that it's pre-Gensoukai.
Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei = not mine. Fanfiction.net should really have some sort of disclaimer automatically built into the heading that says that everything on the site is copyrighted by the original artists. Because having everyone write them on every fic is just silly.
Warnings: Spoilers for the Gensoukai/Kamakura arc (although not *that* big, since the arc is ongoing). References to violent attacks, sexual assault, and death (this *is* _Yami no Matsuei_, after all). No plot whatsoever. Lots of flashbacks. Mad stream-of-consciousness-ness. Angst, angst, and more angst. Suffocating amounts of angst. The possibility that my interpretation of Nagare is way, way off.
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Secret by The Blackened Rose
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In the Kurosaki household, on October 18, 1998, the sun rose, just like it did every other morning.
The soft beams of the first light of day shone through the window and banished the horrors of the night before, just like they did every other morning.
Kurosaki Nagare lay on the floor of his room, drenched in sweat and blood, quietly gasping, just like he did every other morning.
But this wasn't every other morning.
Nagare's son would have become a man this morning. Hisoka would have been eighteen today.
Nagare sat up and coughed the last bit of blood out of his throat. He spat it on the floor, before the indifferent portraits of his ancestors. All the ancestors who had borne this curse before. For the sake of the village.
Standing and crossing the room, Nagare grabbed bandages from a table and began dressing his wounds. He wrapped virtually everything from the neck down now. Mostly, it was to stop his bleeding, but it was also partially, to cover the scales that had been growing on him since the night his father died.
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//Nagare and Iwao stood at their father's bedside. He'd been sick for a long time; they all knew it was nearing the end. Iwao held his father's hand, but Nagare felt a bit too shy to show such open affection. The old man's breath was heavy and labored; he was obviously struggling for just a little bit more time, just a few more minutes. The two young men were silent.
//"Iwao," their father suddenly whispered. "Take care of yourself and your brother."
//He locked his eyes with Nagare's, and the young man, barely seventeen, felt inexplicable chills go down his spine. He felt something in the air, as though a spell had just been cast on him.
//The old man sighed and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, his body relaxed, and then everything was still.
//"Father?" Iwao asked, shaking his father's hand slightly. "Father?!"
//Nagare was silent, staring at the now-lifeless body in mild shock. That odd sensation...what was it?
//He could worry about that later. The reality suddenly struck him that he was now the clan head. He never really believed that he had been named heir until that moment.
//"Don't just stand there; do something!" Iwao cried.
//Iwao frantically tried to get the doctors to revive the old man, but it was too late. Their father was gone. When the reality sunk in, Iwao became hysterical. Nagare was still too confused to really process all of it. He was clan head now, it seemed. He had a place in the family, after all. So he had to take charge and keep calm, which he immediately did. He had to take care of his father's body, the doctors, his brother, the extended family, the house, the village, and anything else that came up. It was difficult, but not impossible.
//Until later that night, that was all he thought there was to being the clan head.
//After everything had settled enough for the night, Nagare went to his room and sat on his bed. His father...was dead. All that hope and heartache, all that desire to be loved and accepted as his brother was...all that was over now. He buried his face in his hands and began to cry.
//But then he heard a hissing sound. But it didn't sound like a snake's voice. It sounded almost human. Almost.
//"Ah, so you are the new clan head," the voice hissed. It seemed to be coming from inside Nagare's own mind. "You certainly are a pretty one."
//"What? What is that? Who are you?" Nagare demanded of the air, wondering if he was going insane.
//"I? I am the punishment for the sins of your ancestors. I am Yatonogami."
//"Impossible! Ren-sama killed you!"
//"You think so?"
//Suddenly, Nagare felt as if he was being turned inside out. Strong scaled tentacles seemed to come out of nowhere, wrapped tightly around Nagare so he couldn't move. Suddenly, a head rose from among the mess, and Nagare realized it wasn't tentacles wrapped around him; it was the singular body of a snake.
//"Still don't believe me, boy?"
//Nagare couldn't reply, in shock from what he was seeing.
//Yatonogami laughed. "With your father's death, I have a new plaything. I think I'll *enjoy* you." He laughed again and wrapped himself tighter around Nagare.
//The boy was suddenly thrown to the floor and stripped of his clothes. He screamed.
//"Ah, that was lovely, boy. Scream again for me. Your punishment for your family's sins!"
//Nagare felt the snake god *everywhere.* Around him, inside him-- there was no escape. To say it was the most horrible, terrifying, humiliating thing he'd ever felt would be an understatement. But he didn't scream anymore. He refused to give this...this *thing* the satisfaction that he so obviously took.
//And so, all night, the snake god attacked the boy, tormenting him, taunting Nagare with the true nature of the curse and Nagare's purpose as the clan head. Nagare realized then that his father had given him the title of clan head for the power and prestige, but so Nagare would have to suffer Yatonogami's wrath instead of Iwao.
//Even knowing that, Nagare didn't cry. Didn't scream.
//Not for the whole night.
//The next morning, the snake god disappeared. Nagare, sweating, bleeding, shaking and gasping, could barely believe what he had just lived through. It had to be a horrible dream. He looked at his torso, though, and saw snake scales beginning to develop.
//So this was the inheritance his father left him.//
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Father...mother, a long time ago...daughter.wife, not long after that...son. Nagare felt at times like he was the only one left.
So much death. That was the fate of the Kurosaki clan.
But today was not the day to dwell on the fate of clan. Today was dedicated to his most recent loss. The son. Although the loss of his son wasn't really as recent as it seemed.
Nagare finished wrapping his bandages--though not bandaging his eyes, needing to see until he returned--and began to put on his yukata. After finishing with his obi, wiped the last remnants of tears out of his eyes. Of course he gave his blood, sweat, and tears for the village. On the floor, they all mixed to become inseparable from each other. But by the time he would be back later, it would have soaked into the floor, as if it had never been there. How fitting.
It always made him feel pathetic, though, when the sun rose, to have to wipe away his tears. He couldn't imagine what anyone would think were they to see the unbreakable head of the Kurosaki clan in such a state. During the night, it made complete sense to scream and cry, to release his anger and fear. After that first night, he learned that no matter what his pride, he couldn't contain that much torment without driving himself crazy. But the morning would always come. It never seemed that bad once the shadows were banished, making his terror seem like it was much more than was really necessary. So weak, that he would always cry like a...
...child.
He wondered if he looked the way Hisoka did that morning. The morning that Nagare lost his son, even if it was another three years before the boy actually died. It was much like this morning, after he had done the same thing he was doing now, a routine...
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//Nagare walked out of his room, having bandaged and dressed himself, like he did every morning. He began to walk toward the dining room to have breakfast, when he heard someone running behind him.
//"Master!" Miya called. "Master!"
//He turned and regarded her calmly. "What is it?"
//"Hisoka-sama! He's gone!"
//With that, all calmness disappeared from his face. "WHAT?!"
//Miya began to look frantic and tears began to form in her eyes. "We...he didn't come back here last night when he went for a walk!"
//Nagare stared at her, all his contained rage apparent in his eyes. "*Why* didn't anyone go with him?"
//"He--he asked to be alone!"
//Nagare balled his fists. "We have to find him immediately! Send out anyone you can find to look for him!"
//"Yes, sir!"
//Hisoka often went for walks at night, especially on nights of the full moon. On those nights, Yatonogami was particularly vicious, and Nagare wasn't sure that even the distance between his room and Hisoka's cell could keep the boy from feeling his father's torment. So they usually got Hisoka out of the house. But he was always back by morning.
//The search went on for nearly two hours. The servants canvassed the entire grounds of the household, not ignoring a single square centimeter. Nagare was pacing frantically until one of the younger servants ran up to him.
//"Master, we found him!" he cried, not quite sounding relieved.
//"Where was he?!"
//"He was at the gates. If seems like he just came back by himself."
//Nagare was absolutely furious. What the *hell* did that boy think he was doing, wandering off like that? Didn't he know what could happen to him? Didn't he know what kinds of people wandered late at night?
//Probably not--it wasn't as if he was allowed to know anyone.
//Still, to wander off for so long and not let anyone know what he was doing? Nagare was torn between wanting to crush his son in an embrace wanting to tear his head off. Right now, tearing his head off was winning.
//Nagare stormed out into the courtyard, and seeing his son's kimono, yelled with the full force of his anger, his son's empathetic sensitivity be damned, "WHERE WERE YOU?!"
//Hisoka was standing in the center of the courtyard, his knees shaking. He looked up at his father with green eyes that nearly matched Nagare's in color and were now wide with fear. Hisoka's kimono, which looked like it had been hurriedly thrown on, was covered in dirt and blood, as was his face, his hair, and the rest of his body. His shoes were nowhere to be found.
//Nagare felt his heart stop.
//"I...I don't know..." Hisoka whispered.
//He then coughed up blood and collapsed.
//The servants screamed, "Hisoka-sama!" and rushed to his side. Nagare had to swallow hard before being able to speak again.
//"Take him in the house and clean him up," he ordered, his voice so calm it surprised even him. "We can find out what happened later."
//Back in his room, Nagare paced again. *Nothing* in the village should have been capable of doing something like that. And *no* one would try to do something like that to the heir of the Kurosaki clan, not to the village's sacrifice. For a villager to hurt a Kurosaki would be little better than suicide.
//Only one creature Nagare knew of was capable of that kind of damage. But it couldn't possibly have been Him. He wouldn't do something like that.
//After all, Yatonogami played by the rules, however twisted they were.
//But nothing else made sense.//
----------
He remembered screaming at Yatonogami that night, demanding why he would begin attacking the heir before he had even become head of the family. It was too soon; it was bad enough knowing that this would happen to Hisoka after Nagare died, but to watch it while he was still alive was too much to bear. He told the snake god that He could intensify His treatment of Nagare as long as He left Hisoka alone until Nagare's death.
Yatonogami only laughed.
It didn't really matter in the end. The damage had apparently already been done. Maybe it made Hisoka's immune system weak, or maybe Yatonogami wasn't actually responsible. After all, He would never *kill* a Kurosaki clan head or heir.
That took all *fun* out of it, didn't it?
He passed one of Hisoka's portraits. He was very young in the picture, only five or so. It was made not too long before the discovery. Hisoka wasn't smiling. He rarely did, even as a child. Nagare stared at the portrait for several moments. Gods, the boy was so *small.* Eventually Nagare shook his head and continued his pilgrimage.
Several of the servants were already awake and were preparing breakfast as Nagare passed the kitchen. He went into the garden and picked some flowers. Young flowers, of course, only just bloomed. It was only appropriate. He went to the shrine and chose incense, and made his way back to his house. He told Miya and a couple of other servants that he was leaving and then walked out of the house.
Very few people were walking about town so early in the morning. Nagare only saw a couple of merchants beginning to prepare for the day's business. One of them looked at Nagare, smiled at him sadly and knowingly, and returned her attention to her shop. She was an old woman who remembered the tragedy of Hisoka's death well.
Hisoka was remembered fondly as the heir who died far too young. It was better that way. Of course, they'd never really known why they saw so little of the young heir after his early childhood--after his death many had assumed that he had *always* been sickly. It was undoubtedly best that way. Much better than knowing the truth.
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//Hisoka, now about five years old, sat on a cushion in the living room, doing his best to look brave, holding his tiny hands together so they wouldn't shake so much. Nagare sat on a cushion on the opposite side of the room, with Rui next to him, while Iwao stood immediately in front of Hisoka, demanding the child's attention. Nagare had been dreading his brother's visit for exactly this reason.
//"Now, Hisoka-kun," Iwao began with false gentleness, "I want you to answer all my questions honestly, okay?"
//Hisoka's breath was shaking and he nodded hurriedly. He glanced at his parents, but Nagare looked away. He couldn't bear looking into his son's wide eyes, feeling as if he'd betrayed the boy.
//Both Nagare and Rui had been aware for some time that there was something...*different* about their son. They couldn't quite put their fingers on it, but he seemed to have some sort of sixth sense, some sort of special sensitivity to the feelings of others, even when those feelings weren't shown. It was just little things, but they were starting to add up. They'd only mentioned it between themselves once or twice, only making vague implications, trying to avoid confronting the issue directly.
//But then Iwao had come to visit. That evening, when he asked to see his nephew, who had seemed to be avoiding him all day, it took several minutes to find Hisoka.
//"I don't want to see Uncle Iwao!" Nagare heard the boy cry to one of the servants. "Don't make me!"
//"Please, Hisoka-sama, he asked for you," one of the servants told him gently, leading him by the hand.
//"Come on, Hisoka, be brave," Nagare encouraged with a soft smile, holding out a hand to his son. "It'll be okay. I promise."
//Hisoka looked at his father for a moment, hope beginning to fill his fearful eyes. The servant released the boy's hand and Hisoka placed it in Nagare's.
//"Okay," he said. "But only if you promise."
//"Good boy," Nagare encouraged.
//Of course, as soon as he entered the room, where his uncle sat chatting with Rui, Hisoka had recoiled from his uncle's friendliness, still clutching his father's hand.
//"Hello, there, Hisoka-kun!" Iwao greeted with a smile. "What's wrong? Don't you want to say hello to your uncle?"
//"No," Hisoka replied defiantly. "You feel scary."
//Iwao blinked and Nagare groaned internally.
//"I...what?"
//"You feel scary." Hisoka repeated.
//"What does that mean?"
//"It *means* that you feel *scary,*" Hisoka repeated with mild irritation, as if his statement had made perfect sense before. "Father, Mother, don't you think so?"
//Iwao looked to his brother. "What's the meaning of this, Nagare?"
//Nagare couldn't meet his brother's eyes, nor could he meet his son's. What could he say? Were he to tell his brother that knew that Hisoka seemed to have some sort of.psychic ability, Iwao could pounce on it to have grounds to remove him as head of the family. Hisoka would then probably be disowned, thrown out, even killed, and if Nagare didn't have the final say as clan head, then there was nothing he could do to guarantee Hisoka's protection. But if he didn't stand behind his son, it would be a betrayal that the boy might never recover from. Their entire relationship could be ruined with this one moment. Nagare might never get over that guilt.
//Oh, surely that was exaggerating. And protecting his son's life was much more important than their feelings.
//"I don't...I don't know," Nagare replied.
//"Father...?" Hisoka asked, his voice scared.
//"Well, then, we'll have to find out, won't we?" Iwao asked calmly.
//"I suppose so," Nagare replied, releasing his son's hand.
//And so Iwao began his interrogation. Nagare and Rui could only sit in helpless silence.
//"Hisoka-kun," he began. "You said that I felt 'scary.' Pretend I don't know what that means. How would you describe it?"
//Hisoka looked at him in mild confusion. "Describe...?" He asked. He lowered his eyes and spoke softly. "I don't really know. It's just...a feeling I have."
//"What do you feel?"
//"It's...it's not what I feel. It's what you feel."
//Nagare was both horrified and fascinated by the conversation taking place in front of him. He had always wanted to know exactly what his son's mysterious power was, while at the same time wanted to pretend it didn't exist.
//"What do you mean by that?"
//"I don't really know."
//"Don't lie to me, Hisoka-kun."
//"I'm not lying!" Hisoka yelled. "I really don't know! I can tell when you're angry, and happy, and sad; I just *know*! Don't you feel it, Uncle? Mother...Father...?" His eyes were filling with tears. "I can feel something scary from you right now; you're happy like you got away with stealing something. And I can tell Mother and Father are scared right now, and what's going on?"
//Iwao was shaking.
//"I think we're finished now," Nagare ordered, standing up.
//"I think we've just started," Iwao replied, his voice level. "If you knew nothing of this, don't you want to get to the bottom of this mystery? Now sit down."
//Nagare continued standing, but made no reply.
//"Why are you scared, Uncle? Why are you all scared? Did I do something wrong?"
//Iwao ignored his question. "How long have you felt like this, Hisoka-kun?"
//"Since...I don't know, since always. Can't you feel it? What's wrong?"
//"This...what *is* this?" Iwao asked no one in particular. "He's...a psychic? A telepath?" He whirled on his brother. "A monster! We can't stand for this. A clan head must be able to restrain his own feelings. To feel what others feel will be a threat to the entire way our family is run. He will drive himself mad, and will not be able to protect the village. That *will not* benefit *this family.*"
//Hisoka gasped. Neither Iwao nor Nagare looked at him.
//"We cannot allow this path to continue. 'That' will be of no benefit to the family. We cannot have an inadequate heir. We must have a new one. Dispose of 'it' quickly, Nagare!"
//"What?" Nagare growled.
//"Kill it, Nagare!"
//Hisoka screamed and ran from the room. Rui cried out his name and ran after him. Nagare glared at his brother.
//"How dare you come into my house and order me to kill my *son.* Isn't having the death of *one* of my children on your hands enough for you?"
//"*That* is how this clan *works,* Nagare."
//"There is *no* reason for Hisoka to *die* over this! He can still act as head after me!"
//Acting as the head...suddenly, Nagare felt his stomach drop. If his son felt everything other people felt...that meant that every night...with Yatonogami...
//Oh, God. Nagare thought he might be sick.
//"Is that so?" Iwao challenged. "I would like to see that."
//Rui walked back into the room, carrying Hisoka in her arms. His face was buried in her shoulder, and he was crying hysterically, screaming, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll never ever do it again, I promise! I don't want to die! Please don't kill me!"
//"We aren't going to do anything like that, Hisoka," Nagare told him, trying to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke. "We'll just have to find another solution."//
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The only solution that they could find was to hide Hisoka away. Everyone in the house knew now that whatever lies they told, whatever secrets they hid, could be uncovered by a five-year-old boy. And they were all afraid. Hisoka was a threat to anyone he came in contact with, and vice versa.
They later found a word for Hisoka's power: empathy. It was like naming a disease.
After the discovery, one of the servants had even planned to kill the boy. She was, of course, caught, but the reality of the situation struck Nagare hard. Hisoka couldn't be allowed to wander free anymore if his empathy was this much of a threat. Iwao was right; Hisoka's power couldn't be allowed to run wild. They couldn't possibly ask around for outside help; they couldn't let anyone know that there was a...*problem* with the heir to the Kurosaki clan. So the solution was to force the boy to control his powers by locking him up whenever he exercised them. It was tough, but so was the clan. Nagare sincerely believed that there was no other way.
The first night was absolutely the worst. Nagare and Rui had to explain to their son that, no, not everyone felt the way he did, and that he had to be separated from them until he could control his powers, until he could stop himself from feeling what others felt. Nagare tried to be reassuring, but he was afraid--afraid for his son's welfare, afraid for the clan's future, afraid of what his son would see inside his own father.
Most of all, Nagare was afraid of what happened every night, that his son would feel what Yatonogami did to him. But how could he say anything to explain? So he left Hisoka alone. And Hisoka's mother couldn't help him, either. Rui's claims that she was haunted by her sister's ghost made her just as incapable as Nagare of reaching out to her son.
That first night, everyone heard Hisoka screaming and crying, begging for his parents, apologizing over and over, saying he was scared, begging for *anyone* to come help him. But no one came. No one could come. Hisoka *had* to learn.
So Nagare practiced tough love on his son, leaving him alone until he could control his powers. The boy *had* to learn to do it, otherwise he literally would die. Iwao, the servant, Yatonogami, the clan, *everything* made that abundantly clear. And Hisoka *had* to understand that. So Nagare had to keep his distance.
But he also knew that he couldn't just leave his son in that cell without anything to do, or else he would go crazy, empathy or no empathy. So Nagare made sure his son had a constant supply of books. Hisoka was a very bright boy and tore through any books that his father gave him, probably without even realizing where they were coming from.
The only time Nagare really saw his son after that was when he was teaching Hisoka martial arts. Coming from the Kurosaki house, he showed a natural aptitude for all the arts that the family practiced. Nagare especially wanted his son to learn kyudo, because it forced him to clear his mind, and it seemed like a good way for him to learn to control his empathy.
In those sessions, however, Nagare forced himself to be absolutely restrained. He could not allow himself to pity his son, at least not while his son could feel it, because if his resolve were broken, Hisoka would die. He repeated it to himself over and over. He will *die* if you show him love, he will *die* if you don't treat him this way, he will *die*...
But now it didn't matter. His son was dead anyway. But now he had no idea why he lived the life he did. He probably died assuming his parents didn't even care, never knowing how wrong he was.
Nagare arrived at the town's only sakura tree. Since it was fall now, the flowers had long since faded away. A specially-built awning was there, complete with running water. Nagare had ordered it to be built specifically so it would be near the graves of his children. He walked up to it and took the wooden ladle and held it under the water for a few seconds, allowing it to fill.
A few birds sang in the distance. The water sloshed softly as it filled the ladle. Otherwise, the clearing was completely silent.
Nagare first walked to his daughter's grave. The first child named Hisoka, the child Nagare never even got to meet. He washed the grave with the water from the ladle, removed the old flowers and then laid new ones, removed the old incense and lit new ones. It was routine, even by the time the son was born. After all, the girl had been dead for nearly twenty years.
When he had returned from his trip, the girl was already dead, had barely even been able to take a few breaths before Nagare's brother had strangled her. Kasane was already starting to lose her mind from her grief. There was nothing Nagare could do to punish his brother or even save his wife, because that was how the Kurosaki clan worked. The way it had worked since the beginning. For the sake of the village.
Nagare was barely more than a child then, only a little older than what his son would be now. And by then he'd already lost his wife and child, all because of his family tradition. The loss of the first woman he had ever really loved nearly killed him, too. After Kasane's suicide, Nagare could only force himself to go on. In desperation, he had married Kasane's twin sister, hoping he could at least pretend to get everything back.
But underneath it all, he knew it was just a lie. A replacement. Because he tried so hard to force himself to love Rui, he knew he never really would. So when Rui had his second child, the heir, he was determined to feel the same way. He wanted nothing more than to feel that the child was only a replacement for the daughter he had lost, given the name Hisoka to wipe out the last vestiges of the daughter who never was. The son was just the child who was lucky enough to be born male and not have to die as his sister did. Nagare had been determined that that was how he would feel.
But then his son was born.
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//Nagare walked into his wife's room. She had given birth to her baby in the house, as was only appropriate, given the traditional nature of the family, as well as the fact that the nearest hospital was too far away.
//Rui lay back on the bed, looking exhausted but elated. The doctors had already left. She held a small bundle in her arms, and all her attention was devoted to it. Nagare wondered if Kasane had looked the same way when their daughter was born.
//Rui looked up from the baby to look into her husband's eyes. She smiled. No, not smiled. Beamed.
//"It's our son," she told him in some sort of awe, "Hisoka."
//She offered the boy to Nagare. "He looks just like you."
//Nagare carefully took the boy into his arms, holding it as he would a fragile object--something to be careful with and admired, and put down as soon as possible. Because that was how it was going to be. He wouldn't let himself get attached.
//His son was sleeping, but woke up as he was being transferred. Nagare was afraid the boy might start to cry, but instead he looked at his father with wide eyes and then yawned.
//Before that moment, Nagare wasn't sure what it felt like to have his heart melt. Then he knew. He looked his son and smiled for the first time in what he felt was years.
//He knew that the boy would have to have a proper and strict and most importantly *traditional* upbringing, and would never be allowed these kind of indulgences ever again, but right then, at *that* moment, it didn't matter. Right then, it was perfect. Nagare was afraid to speak for fear of ruining it.
//He ran a finger down the newborn's tiny face, absorbing every detail in fascination. His nose, his eyes, his face, his ears, the way he blinked, the way he breathed--the only word Nagare could think to describe it with was "amazing."
//Moving his hand from Hisoka's face, he put his index finger in the infant's hand. Hisoka's own tiny hand reflexively closed; his hand was so small that his fingers only barely made it around his father's larger one.
//He had no idea how long the moment lasted, but by the end of it he could only be certain of one thing--the son was not, and could never be, merely the daughter's replacement. Both children had places of their own.//
----------
And now those places were side-by-side graves. He had brought Hisoka here once, back when he was very, very young, barely old enough to walk and probably not even old enough to remember it later. He held his son's hand and showed him his sister's grave. He told Hisoka that in the family, tradition was everything. For the sake of the village.
Nagare walked back to the awning and refilled the ladle, listening to the silence once again. He made the walk to his son's headstone now, much more slowly than he had to his daughter's grave. He carefully washed the headstone, removed the old flowers and incense as he had for his daughter, and replaced them with the new ones.
He took a step back and regarded the headstone in silence for a moment. It was very simple; the kanji read, "Kurosaki Hisoka. Heir to the Kurosaki clan. October 18, 1980-November 21, 1996." And that was all.
Nagare was still surprised that Hisoka lasted as long as he did. Three years against an illness that not a single doctor could even identify, let alone treat. The boy was barely sixteen when he died, and yet it seemed like so much longer ago that he had lost the boy.
He remembered, toward the end, seeing his son lying on the hospital bed with tubes everywhere, trying to force life where it was obviously being rejected. He was so pale, and so small, that Nagare could barely differentiate his son from the sheets he was wrapped in. The boy was in so much pain that he didn't even seem to be aware of the world around him. In the early stages of Hisoka's illness, Nagare had only come in the very early mornings, after Yatonogami had disappeared for the morning but while the boy was asleep, to watch him. He could never reach out and touch his son, though, never offer physical comfort. The power of his own worry and pain would send his son's system into empathetic shock. And he was weak enough without that.
By the end of his life, Hisoka couldn't even force the concentration to read anymore. There was no longer any escape from the pain for him.
And all Nagare could do was stand back and watch.
At least he was there when his son finally did die, though. He found the thought of being away when the time came unbearable. He wasn't there for his daughter when she needed him most, but damned if the same would happen with his son.
Nagare still wasn't sure how he felt about his son's death. He *hated* that he lost his son, hated that the boy would never be able to live, to grow up, to marry and have a family of his own. But at the same time, he was relieved that Hisoka wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Not from the illness, not from the clan's curse, not from his family's treatment of him. Whatever happened to him, all that was over.
Still, Nagare missed him terribly. It was funny; after the discovery, he barely ever even *saw* his son, except when he was teaching him martial arts, yet he still felt like part of him himself was missing. But then, he felt the same way about his daughter and he'd never seen her at all.
He continued to stare at his son's grave. He wanted say something, as if somewhere his son was listening. There was so much he wanted to tell his son. /I wish you had lived, Hisoka. I wish I could have been a better father to you. I wish I could have saved you. I wish I could have helped you. I wish I had told you why. I wish I had decided differently on that night all those years ago. I wish I had told you I love you. I wish none of us were Kurosaki./
He reached out and put his hand on the headstone, rubbing his thumb along the rough rock, deciding on what he would say to his son.
"Happy birthday, son," he whispered. "I hope you're at peace."
He then turned and began the long walk back to his home.
- End -
(1) Okay, I'll admit that one of my goals in writing this was to make myself cry. I didn't, but I came very close a couple of times.
(2) I think I'll write something about Yuma and Saya shopping at Pink House for my next fic, just so I stop drowning myself in angst.
(3) I read a fic where someone proposed that the Gensoukai and Kamakura arcs are somehow linked. I *totally* buy that. I really, really hope that Nagare and Hisoka see each other again at the end of the arc. I really hope Tsuzuki meets Nagare, too, because I think it would be a great "Meet the Parents" moment.
(4) A couple of the things Iwao says in the scene where they discover Hisoka's empathy are from Theria's translations of volume 9 of the manga. (Namely, these were the "'That' will not benefit this family," "Dispose of it quickly" and "Kill it Nagare!" lines) It doesn't say who said them, but I think it was Iwao, because only Iwao calls Nagare "Nagare" and would talk about how they need someone for the benefit of the family. One of the reasons I think Nagare really *did* love Hisoka is because in that scene someone (I presume Iwao) yelled at Nagare to kill Hisoka, but obviously Nagare *didn't.* So that was kind of the catalyst for the fic.
(5) I know this didn't come out in the fic anywhere, but I think Miya (the servant) is *evil.* Evil, evil, evil.
(6) Oh, yes, I completely made up Hisoka's death date.
Comments, criticism, and corrections always encouraged and appreciated.
kurobara_kakumei@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei = not mine. Fanfiction.net should really have some sort of disclaimer automatically built into the heading that says that everything on the site is copyrighted by the original artists. Because having everyone write them on every fic is just silly.
Warnings: Spoilers for the Gensoukai/Kamakura arc (although not *that* big, since the arc is ongoing). References to violent attacks, sexual assault, and death (this *is* _Yami no Matsuei_, after all). No plot whatsoever. Lots of flashbacks. Mad stream-of-consciousness-ness. Angst, angst, and more angst. Suffocating amounts of angst. The possibility that my interpretation of Nagare is way, way off.
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Secret by The Blackened Rose
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In the Kurosaki household, on October 18, 1998, the sun rose, just like it did every other morning.
The soft beams of the first light of day shone through the window and banished the horrors of the night before, just like they did every other morning.
Kurosaki Nagare lay on the floor of his room, drenched in sweat and blood, quietly gasping, just like he did every other morning.
But this wasn't every other morning.
Nagare's son would have become a man this morning. Hisoka would have been eighteen today.
Nagare sat up and coughed the last bit of blood out of his throat. He spat it on the floor, before the indifferent portraits of his ancestors. All the ancestors who had borne this curse before. For the sake of the village.
Standing and crossing the room, Nagare grabbed bandages from a table and began dressing his wounds. He wrapped virtually everything from the neck down now. Mostly, it was to stop his bleeding, but it was also partially, to cover the scales that had been growing on him since the night his father died.
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//Nagare and Iwao stood at their father's bedside. He'd been sick for a long time; they all knew it was nearing the end. Iwao held his father's hand, but Nagare felt a bit too shy to show such open affection. The old man's breath was heavy and labored; he was obviously struggling for just a little bit more time, just a few more minutes. The two young men were silent.
//"Iwao," their father suddenly whispered. "Take care of yourself and your brother."
//He locked his eyes with Nagare's, and the young man, barely seventeen, felt inexplicable chills go down his spine. He felt something in the air, as though a spell had just been cast on him.
//The old man sighed and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, his body relaxed, and then everything was still.
//"Father?" Iwao asked, shaking his father's hand slightly. "Father?!"
//Nagare was silent, staring at the now-lifeless body in mild shock. That odd sensation...what was it?
//He could worry about that later. The reality suddenly struck him that he was now the clan head. He never really believed that he had been named heir until that moment.
//"Don't just stand there; do something!" Iwao cried.
//Iwao frantically tried to get the doctors to revive the old man, but it was too late. Their father was gone. When the reality sunk in, Iwao became hysterical. Nagare was still too confused to really process all of it. He was clan head now, it seemed. He had a place in the family, after all. So he had to take charge and keep calm, which he immediately did. He had to take care of his father's body, the doctors, his brother, the extended family, the house, the village, and anything else that came up. It was difficult, but not impossible.
//Until later that night, that was all he thought there was to being the clan head.
//After everything had settled enough for the night, Nagare went to his room and sat on his bed. His father...was dead. All that hope and heartache, all that desire to be loved and accepted as his brother was...all that was over now. He buried his face in his hands and began to cry.
//But then he heard a hissing sound. But it didn't sound like a snake's voice. It sounded almost human. Almost.
//"Ah, so you are the new clan head," the voice hissed. It seemed to be coming from inside Nagare's own mind. "You certainly are a pretty one."
//"What? What is that? Who are you?" Nagare demanded of the air, wondering if he was going insane.
//"I? I am the punishment for the sins of your ancestors. I am Yatonogami."
//"Impossible! Ren-sama killed you!"
//"You think so?"
//Suddenly, Nagare felt as if he was being turned inside out. Strong scaled tentacles seemed to come out of nowhere, wrapped tightly around Nagare so he couldn't move. Suddenly, a head rose from among the mess, and Nagare realized it wasn't tentacles wrapped around him; it was the singular body of a snake.
//"Still don't believe me, boy?"
//Nagare couldn't reply, in shock from what he was seeing.
//Yatonogami laughed. "With your father's death, I have a new plaything. I think I'll *enjoy* you." He laughed again and wrapped himself tighter around Nagare.
//The boy was suddenly thrown to the floor and stripped of his clothes. He screamed.
//"Ah, that was lovely, boy. Scream again for me. Your punishment for your family's sins!"
//Nagare felt the snake god *everywhere.* Around him, inside him-- there was no escape. To say it was the most horrible, terrifying, humiliating thing he'd ever felt would be an understatement. But he didn't scream anymore. He refused to give this...this *thing* the satisfaction that he so obviously took.
//And so, all night, the snake god attacked the boy, tormenting him, taunting Nagare with the true nature of the curse and Nagare's purpose as the clan head. Nagare realized then that his father had given him the title of clan head for the power and prestige, but so Nagare would have to suffer Yatonogami's wrath instead of Iwao.
//Even knowing that, Nagare didn't cry. Didn't scream.
//Not for the whole night.
//The next morning, the snake god disappeared. Nagare, sweating, bleeding, shaking and gasping, could barely believe what he had just lived through. It had to be a horrible dream. He looked at his torso, though, and saw snake scales beginning to develop.
//So this was the inheritance his father left him.//
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Father...mother, a long time ago...daughter.wife, not long after that...son. Nagare felt at times like he was the only one left.
So much death. That was the fate of the Kurosaki clan.
But today was not the day to dwell on the fate of clan. Today was dedicated to his most recent loss. The son. Although the loss of his son wasn't really as recent as it seemed.
Nagare finished wrapping his bandages--though not bandaging his eyes, needing to see until he returned--and began to put on his yukata. After finishing with his obi, wiped the last remnants of tears out of his eyes. Of course he gave his blood, sweat, and tears for the village. On the floor, they all mixed to become inseparable from each other. But by the time he would be back later, it would have soaked into the floor, as if it had never been there. How fitting.
It always made him feel pathetic, though, when the sun rose, to have to wipe away his tears. He couldn't imagine what anyone would think were they to see the unbreakable head of the Kurosaki clan in such a state. During the night, it made complete sense to scream and cry, to release his anger and fear. After that first night, he learned that no matter what his pride, he couldn't contain that much torment without driving himself crazy. But the morning would always come. It never seemed that bad once the shadows were banished, making his terror seem like it was much more than was really necessary. So weak, that he would always cry like a...
...child.
He wondered if he looked the way Hisoka did that morning. The morning that Nagare lost his son, even if it was another three years before the boy actually died. It was much like this morning, after he had done the same thing he was doing now, a routine...
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//Nagare walked out of his room, having bandaged and dressed himself, like he did every morning. He began to walk toward the dining room to have breakfast, when he heard someone running behind him.
//"Master!" Miya called. "Master!"
//He turned and regarded her calmly. "What is it?"
//"Hisoka-sama! He's gone!"
//With that, all calmness disappeared from his face. "WHAT?!"
//Miya began to look frantic and tears began to form in her eyes. "We...he didn't come back here last night when he went for a walk!"
//Nagare stared at her, all his contained rage apparent in his eyes. "*Why* didn't anyone go with him?"
//"He--he asked to be alone!"
//Nagare balled his fists. "We have to find him immediately! Send out anyone you can find to look for him!"
//"Yes, sir!"
//Hisoka often went for walks at night, especially on nights of the full moon. On those nights, Yatonogami was particularly vicious, and Nagare wasn't sure that even the distance between his room and Hisoka's cell could keep the boy from feeling his father's torment. So they usually got Hisoka out of the house. But he was always back by morning.
//The search went on for nearly two hours. The servants canvassed the entire grounds of the household, not ignoring a single square centimeter. Nagare was pacing frantically until one of the younger servants ran up to him.
//"Master, we found him!" he cried, not quite sounding relieved.
//"Where was he?!"
//"He was at the gates. If seems like he just came back by himself."
//Nagare was absolutely furious. What the *hell* did that boy think he was doing, wandering off like that? Didn't he know what could happen to him? Didn't he know what kinds of people wandered late at night?
//Probably not--it wasn't as if he was allowed to know anyone.
//Still, to wander off for so long and not let anyone know what he was doing? Nagare was torn between wanting to crush his son in an embrace wanting to tear his head off. Right now, tearing his head off was winning.
//Nagare stormed out into the courtyard, and seeing his son's kimono, yelled with the full force of his anger, his son's empathetic sensitivity be damned, "WHERE WERE YOU?!"
//Hisoka was standing in the center of the courtyard, his knees shaking. He looked up at his father with green eyes that nearly matched Nagare's in color and were now wide with fear. Hisoka's kimono, which looked like it had been hurriedly thrown on, was covered in dirt and blood, as was his face, his hair, and the rest of his body. His shoes were nowhere to be found.
//Nagare felt his heart stop.
//"I...I don't know..." Hisoka whispered.
//He then coughed up blood and collapsed.
//The servants screamed, "Hisoka-sama!" and rushed to his side. Nagare had to swallow hard before being able to speak again.
//"Take him in the house and clean him up," he ordered, his voice so calm it surprised even him. "We can find out what happened later."
//Back in his room, Nagare paced again. *Nothing* in the village should have been capable of doing something like that. And *no* one would try to do something like that to the heir of the Kurosaki clan, not to the village's sacrifice. For a villager to hurt a Kurosaki would be little better than suicide.
//Only one creature Nagare knew of was capable of that kind of damage. But it couldn't possibly have been Him. He wouldn't do something like that.
//After all, Yatonogami played by the rules, however twisted they were.
//But nothing else made sense.//
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He remembered screaming at Yatonogami that night, demanding why he would begin attacking the heir before he had even become head of the family. It was too soon; it was bad enough knowing that this would happen to Hisoka after Nagare died, but to watch it while he was still alive was too much to bear. He told the snake god that He could intensify His treatment of Nagare as long as He left Hisoka alone until Nagare's death.
Yatonogami only laughed.
It didn't really matter in the end. The damage had apparently already been done. Maybe it made Hisoka's immune system weak, or maybe Yatonogami wasn't actually responsible. After all, He would never *kill* a Kurosaki clan head or heir.
That took all *fun* out of it, didn't it?
He passed one of Hisoka's portraits. He was very young in the picture, only five or so. It was made not too long before the discovery. Hisoka wasn't smiling. He rarely did, even as a child. Nagare stared at the portrait for several moments. Gods, the boy was so *small.* Eventually Nagare shook his head and continued his pilgrimage.
Several of the servants were already awake and were preparing breakfast as Nagare passed the kitchen. He went into the garden and picked some flowers. Young flowers, of course, only just bloomed. It was only appropriate. He went to the shrine and chose incense, and made his way back to his house. He told Miya and a couple of other servants that he was leaving and then walked out of the house.
Very few people were walking about town so early in the morning. Nagare only saw a couple of merchants beginning to prepare for the day's business. One of them looked at Nagare, smiled at him sadly and knowingly, and returned her attention to her shop. She was an old woman who remembered the tragedy of Hisoka's death well.
Hisoka was remembered fondly as the heir who died far too young. It was better that way. Of course, they'd never really known why they saw so little of the young heir after his early childhood--after his death many had assumed that he had *always* been sickly. It was undoubtedly best that way. Much better than knowing the truth.
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//Hisoka, now about five years old, sat on a cushion in the living room, doing his best to look brave, holding his tiny hands together so they wouldn't shake so much. Nagare sat on a cushion on the opposite side of the room, with Rui next to him, while Iwao stood immediately in front of Hisoka, demanding the child's attention. Nagare had been dreading his brother's visit for exactly this reason.
//"Now, Hisoka-kun," Iwao began with false gentleness, "I want you to answer all my questions honestly, okay?"
//Hisoka's breath was shaking and he nodded hurriedly. He glanced at his parents, but Nagare looked away. He couldn't bear looking into his son's wide eyes, feeling as if he'd betrayed the boy.
//Both Nagare and Rui had been aware for some time that there was something...*different* about their son. They couldn't quite put their fingers on it, but he seemed to have some sort of sixth sense, some sort of special sensitivity to the feelings of others, even when those feelings weren't shown. It was just little things, but they were starting to add up. They'd only mentioned it between themselves once or twice, only making vague implications, trying to avoid confronting the issue directly.
//But then Iwao had come to visit. That evening, when he asked to see his nephew, who had seemed to be avoiding him all day, it took several minutes to find Hisoka.
//"I don't want to see Uncle Iwao!" Nagare heard the boy cry to one of the servants. "Don't make me!"
//"Please, Hisoka-sama, he asked for you," one of the servants told him gently, leading him by the hand.
//"Come on, Hisoka, be brave," Nagare encouraged with a soft smile, holding out a hand to his son. "It'll be okay. I promise."
//Hisoka looked at his father for a moment, hope beginning to fill his fearful eyes. The servant released the boy's hand and Hisoka placed it in Nagare's.
//"Okay," he said. "But only if you promise."
//"Good boy," Nagare encouraged.
//Of course, as soon as he entered the room, where his uncle sat chatting with Rui, Hisoka had recoiled from his uncle's friendliness, still clutching his father's hand.
//"Hello, there, Hisoka-kun!" Iwao greeted with a smile. "What's wrong? Don't you want to say hello to your uncle?"
//"No," Hisoka replied defiantly. "You feel scary."
//Iwao blinked and Nagare groaned internally.
//"I...what?"
//"You feel scary." Hisoka repeated.
//"What does that mean?"
//"It *means* that you feel *scary,*" Hisoka repeated with mild irritation, as if his statement had made perfect sense before. "Father, Mother, don't you think so?"
//Iwao looked to his brother. "What's the meaning of this, Nagare?"
//Nagare couldn't meet his brother's eyes, nor could he meet his son's. What could he say? Were he to tell his brother that knew that Hisoka seemed to have some sort of.psychic ability, Iwao could pounce on it to have grounds to remove him as head of the family. Hisoka would then probably be disowned, thrown out, even killed, and if Nagare didn't have the final say as clan head, then there was nothing he could do to guarantee Hisoka's protection. But if he didn't stand behind his son, it would be a betrayal that the boy might never recover from. Their entire relationship could be ruined with this one moment. Nagare might never get over that guilt.
//Oh, surely that was exaggerating. And protecting his son's life was much more important than their feelings.
//"I don't...I don't know," Nagare replied.
//"Father...?" Hisoka asked, his voice scared.
//"Well, then, we'll have to find out, won't we?" Iwao asked calmly.
//"I suppose so," Nagare replied, releasing his son's hand.
//And so Iwao began his interrogation. Nagare and Rui could only sit in helpless silence.
//"Hisoka-kun," he began. "You said that I felt 'scary.' Pretend I don't know what that means. How would you describe it?"
//Hisoka looked at him in mild confusion. "Describe...?" He asked. He lowered his eyes and spoke softly. "I don't really know. It's just...a feeling I have."
//"What do you feel?"
//"It's...it's not what I feel. It's what you feel."
//Nagare was both horrified and fascinated by the conversation taking place in front of him. He had always wanted to know exactly what his son's mysterious power was, while at the same time wanted to pretend it didn't exist.
//"What do you mean by that?"
//"I don't really know."
//"Don't lie to me, Hisoka-kun."
//"I'm not lying!" Hisoka yelled. "I really don't know! I can tell when you're angry, and happy, and sad; I just *know*! Don't you feel it, Uncle? Mother...Father...?" His eyes were filling with tears. "I can feel something scary from you right now; you're happy like you got away with stealing something. And I can tell Mother and Father are scared right now, and what's going on?"
//Iwao was shaking.
//"I think we're finished now," Nagare ordered, standing up.
//"I think we've just started," Iwao replied, his voice level. "If you knew nothing of this, don't you want to get to the bottom of this mystery? Now sit down."
//Nagare continued standing, but made no reply.
//"Why are you scared, Uncle? Why are you all scared? Did I do something wrong?"
//Iwao ignored his question. "How long have you felt like this, Hisoka-kun?"
//"Since...I don't know, since always. Can't you feel it? What's wrong?"
//"This...what *is* this?" Iwao asked no one in particular. "He's...a psychic? A telepath?" He whirled on his brother. "A monster! We can't stand for this. A clan head must be able to restrain his own feelings. To feel what others feel will be a threat to the entire way our family is run. He will drive himself mad, and will not be able to protect the village. That *will not* benefit *this family.*"
//Hisoka gasped. Neither Iwao nor Nagare looked at him.
//"We cannot allow this path to continue. 'That' will be of no benefit to the family. We cannot have an inadequate heir. We must have a new one. Dispose of 'it' quickly, Nagare!"
//"What?" Nagare growled.
//"Kill it, Nagare!"
//Hisoka screamed and ran from the room. Rui cried out his name and ran after him. Nagare glared at his brother.
//"How dare you come into my house and order me to kill my *son.* Isn't having the death of *one* of my children on your hands enough for you?"
//"*That* is how this clan *works,* Nagare."
//"There is *no* reason for Hisoka to *die* over this! He can still act as head after me!"
//Acting as the head...suddenly, Nagare felt his stomach drop. If his son felt everything other people felt...that meant that every night...with Yatonogami...
//Oh, God. Nagare thought he might be sick.
//"Is that so?" Iwao challenged. "I would like to see that."
//Rui walked back into the room, carrying Hisoka in her arms. His face was buried in her shoulder, and he was crying hysterically, screaming, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll never ever do it again, I promise! I don't want to die! Please don't kill me!"
//"We aren't going to do anything like that, Hisoka," Nagare told him, trying to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke. "We'll just have to find another solution."//
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The only solution that they could find was to hide Hisoka away. Everyone in the house knew now that whatever lies they told, whatever secrets they hid, could be uncovered by a five-year-old boy. And they were all afraid. Hisoka was a threat to anyone he came in contact with, and vice versa.
They later found a word for Hisoka's power: empathy. It was like naming a disease.
After the discovery, one of the servants had even planned to kill the boy. She was, of course, caught, but the reality of the situation struck Nagare hard. Hisoka couldn't be allowed to wander free anymore if his empathy was this much of a threat. Iwao was right; Hisoka's power couldn't be allowed to run wild. They couldn't possibly ask around for outside help; they couldn't let anyone know that there was a...*problem* with the heir to the Kurosaki clan. So the solution was to force the boy to control his powers by locking him up whenever he exercised them. It was tough, but so was the clan. Nagare sincerely believed that there was no other way.
The first night was absolutely the worst. Nagare and Rui had to explain to their son that, no, not everyone felt the way he did, and that he had to be separated from them until he could control his powers, until he could stop himself from feeling what others felt. Nagare tried to be reassuring, but he was afraid--afraid for his son's welfare, afraid for the clan's future, afraid of what his son would see inside his own father.
Most of all, Nagare was afraid of what happened every night, that his son would feel what Yatonogami did to him. But how could he say anything to explain? So he left Hisoka alone. And Hisoka's mother couldn't help him, either. Rui's claims that she was haunted by her sister's ghost made her just as incapable as Nagare of reaching out to her son.
That first night, everyone heard Hisoka screaming and crying, begging for his parents, apologizing over and over, saying he was scared, begging for *anyone* to come help him. But no one came. No one could come. Hisoka *had* to learn.
So Nagare practiced tough love on his son, leaving him alone until he could control his powers. The boy *had* to learn to do it, otherwise he literally would die. Iwao, the servant, Yatonogami, the clan, *everything* made that abundantly clear. And Hisoka *had* to understand that. So Nagare had to keep his distance.
But he also knew that he couldn't just leave his son in that cell without anything to do, or else he would go crazy, empathy or no empathy. So Nagare made sure his son had a constant supply of books. Hisoka was a very bright boy and tore through any books that his father gave him, probably without even realizing where they were coming from.
The only time Nagare really saw his son after that was when he was teaching Hisoka martial arts. Coming from the Kurosaki house, he showed a natural aptitude for all the arts that the family practiced. Nagare especially wanted his son to learn kyudo, because it forced him to clear his mind, and it seemed like a good way for him to learn to control his empathy.
In those sessions, however, Nagare forced himself to be absolutely restrained. He could not allow himself to pity his son, at least not while his son could feel it, because if his resolve were broken, Hisoka would die. He repeated it to himself over and over. He will *die* if you show him love, he will *die* if you don't treat him this way, he will *die*...
But now it didn't matter. His son was dead anyway. But now he had no idea why he lived the life he did. He probably died assuming his parents didn't even care, never knowing how wrong he was.
Nagare arrived at the town's only sakura tree. Since it was fall now, the flowers had long since faded away. A specially-built awning was there, complete with running water. Nagare had ordered it to be built specifically so it would be near the graves of his children. He walked up to it and took the wooden ladle and held it under the water for a few seconds, allowing it to fill.
A few birds sang in the distance. The water sloshed softly as it filled the ladle. Otherwise, the clearing was completely silent.
Nagare first walked to his daughter's grave. The first child named Hisoka, the child Nagare never even got to meet. He washed the grave with the water from the ladle, removed the old flowers and then laid new ones, removed the old incense and lit new ones. It was routine, even by the time the son was born. After all, the girl had been dead for nearly twenty years.
When he had returned from his trip, the girl was already dead, had barely even been able to take a few breaths before Nagare's brother had strangled her. Kasane was already starting to lose her mind from her grief. There was nothing Nagare could do to punish his brother or even save his wife, because that was how the Kurosaki clan worked. The way it had worked since the beginning. For the sake of the village.
Nagare was barely more than a child then, only a little older than what his son would be now. And by then he'd already lost his wife and child, all because of his family tradition. The loss of the first woman he had ever really loved nearly killed him, too. After Kasane's suicide, Nagare could only force himself to go on. In desperation, he had married Kasane's twin sister, hoping he could at least pretend to get everything back.
But underneath it all, he knew it was just a lie. A replacement. Because he tried so hard to force himself to love Rui, he knew he never really would. So when Rui had his second child, the heir, he was determined to feel the same way. He wanted nothing more than to feel that the child was only a replacement for the daughter he had lost, given the name Hisoka to wipe out the last vestiges of the daughter who never was. The son was just the child who was lucky enough to be born male and not have to die as his sister did. Nagare had been determined that that was how he would feel.
But then his son was born.
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//Nagare walked into his wife's room. She had given birth to her baby in the house, as was only appropriate, given the traditional nature of the family, as well as the fact that the nearest hospital was too far away.
//Rui lay back on the bed, looking exhausted but elated. The doctors had already left. She held a small bundle in her arms, and all her attention was devoted to it. Nagare wondered if Kasane had looked the same way when their daughter was born.
//Rui looked up from the baby to look into her husband's eyes. She smiled. No, not smiled. Beamed.
//"It's our son," she told him in some sort of awe, "Hisoka."
//She offered the boy to Nagare. "He looks just like you."
//Nagare carefully took the boy into his arms, holding it as he would a fragile object--something to be careful with and admired, and put down as soon as possible. Because that was how it was going to be. He wouldn't let himself get attached.
//His son was sleeping, but woke up as he was being transferred. Nagare was afraid the boy might start to cry, but instead he looked at his father with wide eyes and then yawned.
//Before that moment, Nagare wasn't sure what it felt like to have his heart melt. Then he knew. He looked his son and smiled for the first time in what he felt was years.
//He knew that the boy would have to have a proper and strict and most importantly *traditional* upbringing, and would never be allowed these kind of indulgences ever again, but right then, at *that* moment, it didn't matter. Right then, it was perfect. Nagare was afraid to speak for fear of ruining it.
//He ran a finger down the newborn's tiny face, absorbing every detail in fascination. His nose, his eyes, his face, his ears, the way he blinked, the way he breathed--the only word Nagare could think to describe it with was "amazing."
//Moving his hand from Hisoka's face, he put his index finger in the infant's hand. Hisoka's own tiny hand reflexively closed; his hand was so small that his fingers only barely made it around his father's larger one.
//He had no idea how long the moment lasted, but by the end of it he could only be certain of one thing--the son was not, and could never be, merely the daughter's replacement. Both children had places of their own.//
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And now those places were side-by-side graves. He had brought Hisoka here once, back when he was very, very young, barely old enough to walk and probably not even old enough to remember it later. He held his son's hand and showed him his sister's grave. He told Hisoka that in the family, tradition was everything. For the sake of the village.
Nagare walked back to the awning and refilled the ladle, listening to the silence once again. He made the walk to his son's headstone now, much more slowly than he had to his daughter's grave. He carefully washed the headstone, removed the old flowers and incense as he had for his daughter, and replaced them with the new ones.
He took a step back and regarded the headstone in silence for a moment. It was very simple; the kanji read, "Kurosaki Hisoka. Heir to the Kurosaki clan. October 18, 1980-November 21, 1996." And that was all.
Nagare was still surprised that Hisoka lasted as long as he did. Three years against an illness that not a single doctor could even identify, let alone treat. The boy was barely sixteen when he died, and yet it seemed like so much longer ago that he had lost the boy.
He remembered, toward the end, seeing his son lying on the hospital bed with tubes everywhere, trying to force life where it was obviously being rejected. He was so pale, and so small, that Nagare could barely differentiate his son from the sheets he was wrapped in. The boy was in so much pain that he didn't even seem to be aware of the world around him. In the early stages of Hisoka's illness, Nagare had only come in the very early mornings, after Yatonogami had disappeared for the morning but while the boy was asleep, to watch him. He could never reach out and touch his son, though, never offer physical comfort. The power of his own worry and pain would send his son's system into empathetic shock. And he was weak enough without that.
By the end of his life, Hisoka couldn't even force the concentration to read anymore. There was no longer any escape from the pain for him.
And all Nagare could do was stand back and watch.
At least he was there when his son finally did die, though. He found the thought of being away when the time came unbearable. He wasn't there for his daughter when she needed him most, but damned if the same would happen with his son.
Nagare still wasn't sure how he felt about his son's death. He *hated* that he lost his son, hated that the boy would never be able to live, to grow up, to marry and have a family of his own. But at the same time, he was relieved that Hisoka wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Not from the illness, not from the clan's curse, not from his family's treatment of him. Whatever happened to him, all that was over.
Still, Nagare missed him terribly. It was funny; after the discovery, he barely ever even *saw* his son, except when he was teaching him martial arts, yet he still felt like part of him himself was missing. But then, he felt the same way about his daughter and he'd never seen her at all.
He continued to stare at his son's grave. He wanted say something, as if somewhere his son was listening. There was so much he wanted to tell his son. /I wish you had lived, Hisoka. I wish I could have been a better father to you. I wish I could have saved you. I wish I could have helped you. I wish I had told you why. I wish I had decided differently on that night all those years ago. I wish I had told you I love you. I wish none of us were Kurosaki./
He reached out and put his hand on the headstone, rubbing his thumb along the rough rock, deciding on what he would say to his son.
"Happy birthday, son," he whispered. "I hope you're at peace."
He then turned and began the long walk back to his home.
- End -
(1) Okay, I'll admit that one of my goals in writing this was to make myself cry. I didn't, but I came very close a couple of times.
(2) I think I'll write something about Yuma and Saya shopping at Pink House for my next fic, just so I stop drowning myself in angst.
(3) I read a fic where someone proposed that the Gensoukai and Kamakura arcs are somehow linked. I *totally* buy that. I really, really hope that Nagare and Hisoka see each other again at the end of the arc. I really hope Tsuzuki meets Nagare, too, because I think it would be a great "Meet the Parents" moment.
(4) A couple of the things Iwao says in the scene where they discover Hisoka's empathy are from Theria's translations of volume 9 of the manga. (Namely, these were the "'That' will not benefit this family," "Dispose of it quickly" and "Kill it Nagare!" lines) It doesn't say who said them, but I think it was Iwao, because only Iwao calls Nagare "Nagare" and would talk about how they need someone for the benefit of the family. One of the reasons I think Nagare really *did* love Hisoka is because in that scene someone (I presume Iwao) yelled at Nagare to kill Hisoka, but obviously Nagare *didn't.* So that was kind of the catalyst for the fic.
(5) I know this didn't come out in the fic anywhere, but I think Miya (the servant) is *evil.* Evil, evil, evil.
(6) Oh, yes, I completely made up Hisoka's death date.
Comments, criticism, and corrections always encouraged and appreciated.
kurobara_kakumei@yahoo.com