Medusa: Eternal Journey with Holy Light
Banana Fish characters belong to their various owners.
Story encompasses Vol 19's final story: "Garden with Holy Light", along with the cameo appearance both Ash and Eiji have in Yoshida's other series, "Lover's Kiss". Has sci-fi elements (cause how else could this possibly work?). Dedicated to those tasteful, passionate individuals whose love for this timeless classic has persevered to this day.
You're not alone, I'm with you. My soul is always with you.
We'll be united, no matter how far apart.
You are my best friend.
For a moment, they merely stood awkwardly watching each other.
At their close proximity, the blond was privy to the gradual change of expression as betrayed by the man's bespectacled dark eyes: the frantic hopefulness that got cut short by painful disappointment, before all that passion cooled into weary resignation.
Beside them, the blond's like-aged brunet companion arched a quizzical brow at the man's odd behavior.
"Pardon me," managed the long-haired, bespectacled man in Japanese-accented English. "I mistook you for someone else." His gaze lingered briefly upon the blond's broad chest, upon the cartoon sun printed upon his t-shirt. "Sorry."
"No problem," said the blond, offering a easy, polite smile. He watched on as the Japanese man rejoined his Asian companions in the broken, stumbling steps of the wounded; he kept on watching inconspicuously until the group was to disappear completely off view.
"You can change back now; keeping your eye-lids puffed up for too long like this can cause swelling."
The speaker was the brunet, looking young and buff and completely at home in the sunny tourist town that was Cape Cod. Only his eyes, now looking deeper set and more wolfish than just moments ago, set him apart from the jolly folks currently crowding this sunny dock.
"As expected, not even he can recognize you with your current crypsis chops," drawled the brunet, sweeping his longish hair back from his pronounced hairline with a hand. "People can talk about souls and emotional connections all they want. But, at the end of the day, it's appearance that they judge you upon. Your soul mate is no exception . . . and neither are you."
That hand, broad and brazen, now clasped itself upon the blond's shoulder.
"You used to loath it when I so much as lay a finger upon you." The brunet leaned over to whisper in the blond's shell-like ear. "But now that I'm young again like this . . ." He trailed off at seeing the blond's change of expression - or rather, complete change of face.
Gone were the puffy lids, revealing his green eyes to be upturned and feline-sharp. Those eyes now were cutting sideways and at the brunet like a pair of daggers.
"What a change." Not the least offended, the brunet merely marveled at the now exquisitely defined contours of his companion's face, which seemed to make even his light hair appear all the more golden. "This real face suits you much better."
"You're the one who've changed," muttered the blond, sullenly adverting his gaze. "You never were quite so hard to make angry before."
"Life-altering changes tend to quell a man's fire." The brunet's wolfish eyes grew soft with something akin to wistfulness. "Even your hatred for me from before has dulled as per our current situation.
"Yet still that torch your carried had burned brightly on throughout these past seven years."
The blond jolted under the brunet's increasingly sympathetic gaze.
"I am responsible for your current dilemma," admitted the brunet, matter-of-factly, "so I can understand how you don't want to hear this from me. But, this secret guardian angel nonsense has dragged on for far too long: the only "enemy" you need to protect him from now, is time. As it stand, you're merely making the poor man suffer on unnecessarily out of your own cowardice-"
"I'm pasty as fucking jelly," exclaimed the fair-complexioned blond aloud while stalking off and towards the sandy shores. "Gotta get more sun." Already, he was taking his shirt off, the lithe build revealed drew appreciative gazes towards him from the tourists cluttered around.
The brunet alone remained darkly solemn amidst the dock's merry, sunny-basked crowd.
Ring . . . .
Producing his cellphone, he leaned over the dock's rail to accept the call while keeping his eyes on the blond treading the shore.
"Mr. Lee, I've been expecting your call.
"Like I said, the old men on Hong Kong's Executive Council can prove difficult. But, at the end of the day, all you need is a hold over the owner to keep his dogs from barking. So, as long as the Lee Clan has resource enough to contribute to the Chinese communist party . . .
" . . . if that's the way you want to play this game, then it looks like you'd end up one of us sooner rather than later.
"You don't mind? Mr. Lee, you know there's no known way to control the transdifferentiation mechanism as induced by Medusa, or we'd both be making billions off this gene-editing wonder already.
"Once the process has been triggered: you could potentially revert all the way to becoming a baby. Good luck on running your clan in that state.
"Yes, well, me and the boy were exceedingly lucky in this regard."
"Why of course he's difficult, and stubborn too. How else could he possibly be?
"There really aren't no way to tame a wild lynx, not even when it's been reborn as jelly.
"Worse, this cat appears to have been stalling since at the age of nineteen. IQ 200 notwithstanding, he's actually far less mature than any twenty-six year old should be when it comes to dealing with what we call life.
"As his 'creator', the fault is mine completely. So yes, it does look like it's again up to Papa to step in and make the big decisions for the damned brat yet again . . ."
"Sing . . . I meant what I said before. I'm not unhappy. I am grateful for the time I got to spent with him back then."
To that, Sing Soo-Ling, currently seated at the adjacent sofa from him drinking his coffee, simply gave him with that pained, exasperated look that had become a signature expression of his in recent years.
"Eiji . . ." The man hesitated, briefly, prior to forcing out those cruel words he felt he needed to say. "How many times have you mistaken some random blond kid for him just this year alone?"
Okumura Eiji, feeling the question hammer at his heart, could offer no reply to that.
"Including this time in Cape Cod, it's been five times already that I know of." Putting down his cup, Sing pressed on in his merciless manner. "I understand how you do not wish to forget the past, but your refusing to let go of the past is eating into your present. It has been seven years, Eiji; Ash Lynx has been dead for seven years already."
"I know that, Sing. I-"
"Then why do you still hang on to this delusional hope? You can never, ever find him among the living again, Eiji, not in Cape Cod, not here in New York, not anywhere in this world! Why can't you accept this?"
Sometime during the exchange, tears had blurred Eiji's vision. Thus, he could not tell just know how he ended up getting enveloped within Sing's embrace, feeling the younger man's chiseled musculature crushing against his smaller frame, along with the hotness of the latter's tears seeping though where the shirt covered his shoulder.
"Ash always wanted what he though was the best for you back then," croaked Sing, sounding more like the angsty boy he once was and less the assured man he had since matured into. "Do you think he wants to see you chasing after shadows for the rest of your life?" Eiji, knowing the truth in Sing's words, along with what direction this conversation was heading towards, mentally prepared himself for what he knew he must do next.
"Eiji . . . I also meant what I've said before. I want to make you happy; I want to-"
"Sing, I would be very happy to see a talented man like yourself make the most of your life."
Just like that, Sing's crying ceased; it was not long before he slowly backed off and away from him.
"You've paid heavy dues to get where you are today. " Eiji made a small show of soothing his wrinkled clothing, all to avoid looking his friend in the eye. "If anyone deserves to fly high over New York, it's you-"
"Did Yut-Lung say something to you?"
Re-aligning his glasses, Eiji saw that Sing had since re-erected his steely defenses.
"Trying to have you kick me out so I'd be back in his clutches . . . huh? " Smirking cynically, this powerfully built twenty-three year old man looked nothing like a mere boy now. "Going back on his word and trying to run my life despite promising me otherwise. How like him."
"The last time Lee-san had contacted me was seven years ago, to apologize for being indirectly responsible for Ash's murder," said Eiji, carefully keeping all traces of bitterness out of his voice, even at "indirectly". No matter how sincere the man had seemed when offering both apologies and condolences in the wake of Ash's demise, fact remained that Ash's old nemesis was the one to have manipulated Lao against Ash out of sheer spiteful pettiness, resulting in the dual deaths. It was only Sing's unlikely friendship with Lee that had forced Eiji to mask his lingering resentment against the man. "I found out about your opportunity to take over the New York branch of the Lee enterprise from someone in the know at News Week." His voice softened with heartfelt sincerity. "This seems like a huge opportunity no matter how I look at it. You really should spend more time with your organization's people to work out the specifics and make this happen."
"Instead of hanging around your house all the time re-reading Ash's old documents, right?"
Sing's question had a stinging note of accusatory resentment to it. Since expecting that resentment, Eiji merely faced the other man with his civil, impenetrable Japanese smile.
"You really have changed," muttered Sing after a significantly long moment had passed. "I never though I'd hear you talk about the triad life like it's a legit way of living, Eiji." Weary defeat - if not outright disappointment - was evident in his voice.
"I haven't changed," replied Eiji, smile deeping in spite of himself. "I've always loved the darkness along with the light. I'm not the innocent angel you and the others have all painted me as.
"I'm not who you want me to be, Sing; I'm not even the one you really want."
His statement - softly voiced but blunt nonetheless - had Sing jolting as though kicked.
"Sing," Eiji spoke on before the other could. "It's okay. The one you truly want to direct your feelings towards has never been me to begin with." Reaching into his pocket, he produced a photo, which he handed to the other man. "It has always been that brilliant ray of light that had illuminated both our lives back then." Sing's narrow eyes widened in awe at what he saw.
"Ash's picture from back then . . . " Which should have remained locked away in a box like it had been for the past seven years, was what Sing had left unsaid.
"Behold, the final addition to the exhibition tomorrow," revealed Eiji, trying to sound as lighthearted as possible.
Sing slowly looked up from the picture to study his face closely. "Eiji . . . you . . ."
"I'm not over Ash; I never will be," admitted Eiji, plainly. "But . . . I think I can finally let myself get over his death, and truly look back on all that has to do with him again." He stepped up to beside his old friend. "It's an improvement, isn't it, Sing?"
" . . . what will you label this piece?"
" 'Akira', namely dawn."
Huddled together, like the boys they were years ago, the old friends regarded the golden youth as immortalized upon the photo - that evanescent ray of light now forever out of their reach - in wistful mourning.
To be continued . . . ?