Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei
Notes: The priest's absolution is different from what any Catholics in the audience might experience. That's because the prayer used changed after the Second Vatican Council. That was 1962, and this is 1917, so…yeah. Traditionally the absolution is said in Latin, but I wrote the translation so you could understand it. There's also a prayer made by the priest between the confession and the absolution, but I wasn't sure if that was a new addition, or if the Japanese church would use it, and besides it made the opening too long, so I left it out. I also wasn't sure where exactly the penitent's prayer of contrition was supposed to go, so I tacked it on after the absolution. Catholics, feel free to correct me.
Trivia: The church they're in is St. Mary's Cathedral. It's in Bunkyo, which is in Tokyo Prefecture, and was the closest church to Tokyo-shi that I could find (it's not to be confused with St. Mary's Cathedral in Nagasaki, better known as Urakami Cathedral, the largest church in East Asia). Built in 1899, St. Mary's Cathedral was destroyed during WWII, and replaced with a more modern building in 1964 (the year Muraki was born, funnily enough).
Speaking of Muraki, I've made Daiki frighteningly like him.
I'm trying to weave in as much history as possible, as well as try to actually write a decent-sized chapter (seriously, I'm stuck on this one), so here's a few notes you'll need to know: at the turn of the century America and Japan were having extremely strained relationships over economic influence, land holding, and immigration. "The SMR" is the South Manchurian Railway (I doubt it was referred to by those initials IRL, but bear with me), which Japan had forced China to sign over to them in 1905. The Roosevelt administration didn't take any specific action at the time, but I assume it hurt the railway business and associated industries, which I've made Takashi a part of. "The Demands" are the Twenty-One Demands Japan gave to China in 1915, which basically made China Japan's economic bitch. America announced that it wouldn't recognize any policy that interfered with the Open Door policy currently in place. Which didn't do a whole lot of practical good for China, but I'm betting it was enough to annoy Japan.
"A time to kill and a time to heal" – Ecclesiastes, 3:3
For I Have Sinned
-March, 1917
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession. Since then I have…continued my affair with my brother's wife, and also felt myself desirous of her brother. Daily."
He had gotten tired of saying it; he was sure the priest was weary of hearing it.
"May our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and by His authority I absolve you from every bond of excommunication and interdict, so far as my power allows and your needs require. Thereupon, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen. May the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints obtain for you that whatever good you do or whatever evil you bear might merit for you the remission of your sins, the increase of grace and the reward of everlasting life."
"O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You, and I detest all my sins, because I fear the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell, but most of all because they offend You, my God, who is all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of Your grace to sin no more, to do penance, and to amend my life. Amen."
The Eucharist had tasted bitter for the past three years.
"You'd think Tokyo was on fire, the way everyone's running around."
"Remember, some people are happy to have the soldiers coming home. "Furlough" isn't a dirty word to them." Yuuki smiled at her sister-in-law from across the table, and took a sip of her tea. Ruka's bloodshot eyes, dark pink cheeks, and runny nose showed her excuse for not attending Mass with her family.
"And I'm not happy Daiki's still in one piece?"
Yuuki made a silly face. "Actually, you're one of the few."
"Oh, come on, Yuuki, not even a little?"
"Well…just a tad. For your sake. And your father and the twins."
"And Asato-otouto?"
Yuuki put her cup down and pushed her hair behind her ears. "He's torn. Daiki coming home means he's alive and well…it also means we can't be together for the time Daiki's here."
"There's also the fact that someone might tell Daiki what's going on."
"Is that a warning?"
""Am I my brother's keeper"? No. Tattling on Asato has only ever led to bad things. I won't put him through that again."
"So you value Asato over Daiki, then?"
Ruka frowned. "Daiki is my brother; Asato is both my brother and my friend. Besides, it's his responsibility to confess. Or yours, for that matter."
"I've actually been wondering what Daiki's reaction would be," Yuuki said, running her finger around the rim of her tea cup. "It's not like he's all that attached to me. Would he even care?"
"Daiki is a stickler for principles. Even if he hates your miserable guts, he expects you to be faithful to him, just because you're his wife. It's probably the same reason he's even in the military…he's a Japanese male, so it's his duty to protect the country. It's the samurai in him."
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."
The German prisoners-of-war were constantly saying that. Some poet or other had written the quip centuries ago, and it had gotten all the German boy-men into their uniforms. Daiki's background in Latin, the second language he had been practically breastfed on like his brothers and sister, allowed him to be the only sailor on board who knew what they were saying, and the other soldiers asked him to translate.
"It is sweet and fitting to die for your country."
He often parroted the line before opening fire. Sometimes the dying foreigner would choke and whisper the words while he waited for Daiki or some other Japanese combatant to give the finishing blow. Perhaps it was not so sweet to die on the floor of an enemy ship with a bullethole in the head letting your brains leak out, but Daiki thought it was certainly fitting. Liars and cowards who didn't adhere to deals proposed by civilized countries deserved grisly deaths, after all. Daiki reminded himself of this every moment of privacy he had, while furiously masturbating to the thought of some other liar, traitor, coward, worthless scum on their knees knowing there'd be no mercy for him…for her…whomever it was in those fantasies.
Aimi had tried to train him out of those thoughts. "No one is superior to anyone else." "Don't stoop to their level, Daiki." "God loathes violence." "It breaks my heart to see you be so mean to your brother."
Aimi was some otherwordly creature, one that wouldn't survive in this world because she didn't know its rules. It was why she was dead, Daiki had figured out…had she thrown away her worthless third child, she would still be alive.
She'd been a fool, Daiki finally admitted to himself, swallowing the bitter pill almost with a relish no matter how much he had adored her. And Daiki wasn't a fool.
Dinner that night was a chilly affair. Even the precense of dinner guests—both Daiki's and Yuuki's families—did nothing to add life to the gathering. No one seemed to know, whether they were awed or horrified, how to deal with the fact that Daiki had made a living by killing people for the past three years. As a result, the man of the hour was largely ignored.
Not that he minded. It wasn't like he had ever been fond of his siblings, and since he barely welcomed Yuuki into his house, her family was more like beggars that he allowed in to appear generous in front of his neighbors than his in-laws.
Particularly irritating to him was Asato's apparent determination not to look him in the eyes. He hated the little bastard but wanted him to be more like the proud Germans on the warships. It was much more gratifying to break an enemy spirit if they thought themselves guiltless.
It was a trememdous relief when the relatives began to filter out; the twins first; then Ruka and Shinji, chastity safely guarded by Yuuki's parents; until only Takashi and Asato remained. Yuuki stood stiffly off to the side with Asato, regarding Daiki with an unreadable look. He sent her a sneer and then turned his full attention to his father.
"How is the war really going? We hear everything from the government, but…"
"Fine, as far as we can tell. But it looks like the damn Americans will be throwing their hat in soon, and no one's looking forward to that."
"I do business with some of those "damn Americans", Daiki."
"Yeah, and you've been suffering for it, I'll wager. Ever since the whole business with the SMR—"
"My God, you remember that? You were nine at the time; let it go. I did. I'd be…I am more concerned about their reaction to the Demands."
"They're sitting on their hands about China. They need to protect their interests. I can't believe you haven't pushed this advantage, Father."
"I don't do business like that, Daiki. We've been over this. Your mother would never forgive me if I resorted to tactics like that."
"If you'll forgive me for saying so, Mother could've stood knowing the proper way to deal with non-humans."
Asato flinched, but the sting at the underhanded jab suddenly disappeared with the sound of Takashi's hand against Daiki's face.
"I am still your father. You will not speak ill of your family in my precense."
"I apologize," Daiki said, automatically, casting his eyes away to glare at the wall. Takashi could be quite annoying in this regard as well, though he at least had the good sense to not show fondness towards the sub-human in question.
"I think it best that we leave," Yuuki piped up.
"You'll stay where you are, Yuuki."
"Last time I checked slavery was illegal," she returned coolly, turning and pushing open the sliding door. Asato quickly followed her, bowing his good-byes to his father and brother.
"Insufferable bastard," Yuuki muttered, slamming the sliding door into place. "I'm not going to survive this…"
"Just two weeks, Yuuki."
"What the hell were my parents thinking, marrying me off to him? There are four of you, you'd think they'd have married me off to a better son just by playing the odds…"
"The problem is we're all younger. Daiki just got to get married before us because he's firstborn."
"Asato, do you think…if Daiki doesn't survive the war…"
"Yuuki, please don't talk about that."
"Well, you know, it's not like I'm ever going to wake up to find a mikudori-han with my breakfast! I'm sorry the only way I can imagine myself being happy requires your brother at the bottom of the Mediterranean, but that's how it is, Asato!" She slapped a hand to her forehead and pushed her bangs back. "I don't know why you care so much considering how terribly he's treated you…"
"He's still my brother."
She made a disgusted noise. "Of course he is. You're going to be walked on all your life if you keep this up, Asato. Grow a damn backbone!" She pushed him, more violently than she meant to. He didn't resist the shove, but merely swayed on his feet. Unlike Ruka, Yuuki had never been strong.
"Hey."
Both were startled by the sudden appearance of Ruka's head over the hedge.
"I think it's in both your interests to keep it down. There's lot of things wrong with Daiki but his hearing isn't one of them."
"You know what, Ruka? I really don't care," Yuuki snarled, not looking at her sister-in-law. "Asato, if I don't leave I'm just going to end up yelling at you. I'll see you in two weeks."
"Yuuki—!" Her long black hair, blowing in the night wind, had already disappeared around the corner.
"Trouble in paradise?" Ruka quipped.
"She's just upset. I think she was hoping he'd be a little changed."
"I think that's what you were hoping." Ruka rested her chin precariously on the budding, weak twigs of the hedge. "She's not quite so optimistic. She's upset, but because she's frustrated. By the way, I heard that line about the Mediterranean. I love her dearly, but she isn't as noble as we'd like her to be."
"I'm the ignoble one."
"Hey." Ruka's arm just barely reached over the wall of greenery and awkwardly swatted his head. "None of that." She shook her finger, and Asato had to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight before him. "It's takes two to tango…and to have an affair."
"All right, none of that," Asato said, swallowing his laugh, though a familiar knot had already formed in his stomach.
"I mean it," Ruka said, and her hand rested atop his head. "She's with you of her own free will. And she hates Daiki of her own free will, too."
"I've been having an affair."
It had been thirteen days of silence. She hadn't left the house and hadn't known what to do with herself. Teakettles were constantly whistling angrily over the fire. Her voice resembled those teakettles now.
"With who?" It seemed like the question to ask.
"It doesn't matter."
"With Asato, then?"
Yuuki inclined her head. The silent affirmation irritated him less than being forced to speak his brother's name.
"Tramp."
"Oh, come off it. When's the last time you cared who I sleep with? You're hardly interested when it's you."
"You are my wife."
"Could've fooled me. The other war wives are showing off their letters and counting days until their husbands come home. Me? Not one letter for three years, and I'm counting seconds until I move back in with your family."
"How convenient you've waited until my last night here to tell me this. Did you plan it that way, Yuuki?"
"No. I'm not afraid of you telling anyone. If you survive this war, you'd be forever known as the cuckold, and business depends far too much on reputation, doesn't it?"
"That means nothing to me."
"Well, then, think of your father. We've been carrying on right under his nose, and he'd be a laughingstock if anyone were to find out."
Daiki sent her the glare of a cat backed into a corner. Filial piety trumped the desire to shame her.
"Then why are you telling me this?"
"Because I wanted to trap you," she snarled viciously. "Like I'm trapped in this ridiculous farce of a marriage. There is something about you, Daiki, that makes people want to hurt others. I guess you're more influential than I thought."
"And where do you think you're going?" Daiki's hand reached out towards Yuuki, turning to leave. His fingers closed tightly around her wrist.
"I don't think either of us have the desire to be in each other's company at the moment," she said flatly, her voice controlled.
"I never have the desire to be in your company, Yuuki."
"Likewise. Let me go."
His grip did not waver. "Ruka mentioned something to me a few days ago…something about you wishing the war would affect a change in me?" Yuuki's eyes narrowed. "It's changed me, Yuuki. I don't have the patience for scum like you anymore."
"Once a bastard, always a bastard," Yuuki muttered, making a fist. Her fingers remain clenched even as Daiki slammed the rest of her body into a wall. "You pathetic ass. I am not afraid of you."
"I can change that, too," Daiki said in a low voice. His free hand gripped one of her hips; the heel of his palm dug into her bone. With satisfaction he saw her bite back a cry of pain.
"You can't change shit," Yuuki spat, unfurling her fingers so she could set her nails against Daiki's arm and scratch short, pink lines on his wrist. She wriggled her other arm free from behind her back and slapped him across the face; he didn't flinch, but she smiled as his face grew red where she had struck him. Smile becoming a full grin, she spat, only just barely missing his eye.
In response he slammed her again into the wall, holding her trapped hand by her head, and pushed his free hand into her thigh, fingers digging in as if trying to puncture her flesh.
"Not even this," Yuuki muttered, winding Daiki's hair around her fingers and pulling it so wildly that her elbow hit the wall, sending tingling numbness throughout her entire arm.
"You're not much like your brother."
Sleep stumbled away from Asato at the sound of Yuuki's low, tremulous voice. Her pale, sweating form stood in his doorway, breathing heavily, glaring at some invisible enemy.
Asato rubbed his eyes with his wrist to eliminate the film of sleepy water. "Yuuki? What are you doing here? Daiki might—"
"Daiki knows."
"Yuuki…" He felt a knife in his throat as his gaze floated downward. The blade plunged downward into his stomach as his eyes finally adjusted and he saw her clearly. The skirt of her kimono was shredded, hanging in tatters off her hips. Half-dried streams of blood ran over the purple-black bruises staining her legs.
"What happened to you?!" He stood, throwing the blanket back and standing up. Her upper lip was swollen and peppered with bite marks; her black hair was violently tousled. Asato gently took her arms and guided her to sit on the floor. He pushed her hair back behind her ears to look in her face.
"Daiki…did he…"
For a moment Yuuki saw Asato's eyes glint blood red. His hands on her arms seemed to be convulsing with moribund self-restraint. She smiled, her eyes meeting his with a crazed look.
"I beat him. He looks like me…a big bloody pulp." She barked out an insane laugh. "I tore his hair out. I scratched up his face. Before I left I got a knife…I almost cut his cock off, Asato. I sliced up his leg. That blood was so delicious; oh, it's so beautiful…"
The blood in Asato's veins iced over. His hands were suddenly still as death.
"I hate him. I hate him and he hates me. I wanted to bash his skull in. I think I still can if I go back."
"Yuuki!" Asato stopped her as she rose, pulling her back to the floor.
"Why don't you come with me, Asato? We can do it together. It'll be the most amazing…"
"Yuuki, please, stop it! You're hysterical!" Asato said, feeling that he might reach insanity as well as tears stabbed the back of his eyes, trying to rip through.
"We can get him back, for all these years…" Her eyes narrowed, and there was poison in her glance. "You worthless coward…will you please just for once act like demon-spawn and kill the bastard?"
For a small eternity it seemed as if a dam was built in Asato's throat, keeping air from his lungs. His hands fell, and after several silent moments he tried to swallow down the wall, willing it to dissolve in the bile he felt in his stomach, and stood.
"Let me take you to a doctor, Yuuki."
"W-wait." He looked down, returning his gaze to her. The venomous hatred in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by a horrified, frightened look. "Asato, I'm not…I'm not like him. He's…I don't like hurting people, Asato. He's…he's infecting me. Wait, wait…Asato, wait!"
"I'm right here; I'm not leaving." His knees hit the floor and he grabbed her hands, hiding them in his.
"I'm not like Daiki," she said, insisting, eyes unblinking. "Tell me I'm not turning into him, Asato."
"You're not. I promise you're not."
"Damn it, why? Why did I do that to him? Asato!"
"Yuuki, shh, please." Asato moved his hands up; the heels of his palms rested against her temples and his fingers slipped into her hair. He brought his face close to hers, trying to look into her dry, unfocused eyes. "Please, Yuuki, just let me take you to a doctor; we don't have to say what happened—"
"Get him out of me!"
Her hands gripped his hair like a vice as she threw herself forward, almost knocking him back to the floor. Their lips slammed painfully together as her pelvis ground against his.
"Yuuki—!" Asato was cut off as she viciously kissed him again. "Yuuki, stop it, you're not thinking…"
"I don't want to think, Asato; I want him gone!" she ground out, her teeth scraping against his lower lip.
"Yuuki, please…" But his body was already fighting to give in to her. Hands and mouths had never been satisfying enough. "What if…what if…"
"Just, just do this for me, Asato." She was pulling him, trying to drag him to the floor, and his resistance was half-hearted. "If you cared about me even once sometime during our miserable existence, you'd get him the hell out of me."
The proverbial camel's spine snapped in half. Yuuki moved to kiss him again but was interrupted by his mouth smashing against hers, unceremoniously dropping them both fully to the floor. Her side connected solidly with the hardwood, but she ignored the newest pain in her bones and rolled onto her back, pulling Asato on top of her. The nails used to rip into Daiki's face and back now set to work tearing off his and what was left of her clothes, marking up both their skins in the process.
Yuuki lay still, deliberately oblivious to Asato whispering her name again and again. After several moments Asato finally retreated to sit against the wall near the door and run his hand over the scratch and bite marks she had left in various places on his body, as if doing so would make them disappear.
Yuuki sat up now that she was finally able to see all of Asato at once. Her eyes took in the wounds, for the most part inconsequential but for one on his chest: five vibrant dark pink streaks that wouldn't fade for days.
For a moment Daiki was superimposed over Asato and she grinned. Then the illusion faded and the pain returned, in her back, in her pelvis, in her heart.
With difficulty, she managed to stand, picking up the shreds of her garments that were still some semblance of intact as she did so. Asato reached forward but she swayed, avoiding his hands.
"I think," she said slowly, "that I should go see a doctor. I'll tell him I was attacked on the street."
"Okay," Asato said, breathing shakily. "We should have done that to begin with. Let me get dressed; I'll help you—"
"No." She strode past him, wearing more firmness soaked in sad resoluteness than clothing.
"Yuuki!"
His hand caught her wrist as she stepped into the doorway. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with mournful disappointment.
"You can't help me, Asato."
She pulled her wrist out of his grasp and strode soundlessly out the door, and Asato couldn't bring himself to move, not even to watch her leave. The past three years walked through a doorway down the hall, and as the door slid shut and clicked into place, he knew that she was gone, and it was over.
