It has been so many years since then...
Seishin did not dare to count - he knew the answer would not satisfy him. This opportunity did not heighten his mood, as it should have either. It would be easier to run away... So much easier to just flee and forget this tiny house on the edge of the woods, this vulnerable seclusion and the one, who lived within - or hid at that matter.
Seishin clenched his fists. A part of him deliriously craved for this opportunity and of course there was that command.
A knock.
Seishin had a bare minute to compose himself, before there was a creak and a brown head peeked out. They stared at each other.
The years surely did a number on the other male. Wrinkles were evident around the eyes. This plain, sooty clothing did not match him either, Seishin deemed. He looked so different from back then. Finally, the jinrou gathered his strength to part his lips. A frail sound left him, not much of a greeting, but a wail.
"Toshio..."
"Where have you been?" - wasn't a line, that Seishin had predicted out of the other. Either way, with his expectations now askew, he stood there motionless, stashing his guilt under glassy eyes and arms, hidden away behind his back. Toshio blinked at his friend's quietness, settling on a lighter subject. He leaned at the doorframe. "You've changed a lot."
"You as well." Seishin nodded with a crooked smile. His eyes quickly surveyed the wrinkles and the grown beard.
"Ah. What am I doing?.. Come inside, won't you? We have a lot to catch up."
"You're not... angry with me?"
"For what happened?" Not long after Toshio took a step and placed a hand on Seishin's stiff shoulder. With a gentle push, he forced the other to follow his lead and into the small wooden house. "I always knew you were stupid, that came of no surprise, as much as anger."
"Because I left you?"
"Yeah... "
"You're not angry with me now?"
"Am I the one to hold grudges?" Toshio snickered, giving an eye. "Life's too short for that. I have more important matters than wondering about the past." He quieted down. A mutter. "It ate away too much already..."
"What?"
"Nothing." He waved away Seishin's interest and stopped in the middle of the joint kitchen and living room. In the next spare minute the silver-haired male took his time to curiously inspect the other's living quarters. He saw dusty counters, a number of tiny windows on either sides, then a table, a faded yellow carpet. Beside it, there was a stack of books, a couple of wood-carved sculptures. There had been figures, symbols depicted on them, Seishin spotted years and letters after, though he did not bother to go into that. This all seemed minimalistic. Perhaps Toshio hadn't lived here much? Seishin turned, focusing on his childhood friend, who leaned back at the counter with a dry cough. Toshio's head remained downcast and his words could have been easily misplaced, but he still managed...
"Maybe I was wrong..."
Quiet.
This wasn't what Toshio had imagined: no argument, no lecturing, no nothing. Toshio looked back at a stone-faced Seishin. Had he not understood? A displeased clear of the throat:
"Back then I mean."
"We both were..."
"Heh?" A false smirk decorated Toshio's lips. At least he got a response... Still he could not help himself, as he leaned forward with a teasing smirk. "So you're admitting you did wrong, leaving me in that mess?"
"I'm not admitting anything."
"Still stubborn?"
"Aren't we both?"
Toshio rubbed a side of his face. His knees grew weak and their persistent stinging became all the more apparent, the longer he spared it. A chair was pulled from the nearby table and he sat down, fell into its embrace.
"You know this is getting us nowhere, right?" An exhale, since Seishin remained silent. "What are we doing, Seishin? Must we interrogate each other of all things? We should be happy we still have each other after everything, shouldn't we?"
"I suppose..."
"Right... Right, then I'll make us some tea... Okay?" Toshio stood up a bit waveringly and his eyes portrayed pitiful gentleness. He instantly spotted, how the gloom outlined Seishin's figure, outside of this humble abode. The silver-haired male remained inert with eyes carelessly veered to the side, perhaps even trying to mask his presence, meld in... There was a sudden urge to strangle the other's feeble neck.
X X X
A need for confirmation...
When did it occur? He had lost the track of time...
"The god has banished us... That's what you had said back then, is it not, Muroi-san?" Sunako's voice drifted in.
The other stood a couple of steps away, whilst Sunako crouched in front of the little rusted cross, they had found by the road, below it was written: 'Memorial to Nokosa village. The year 1985.'
She innocently tapped at the piles of moss on the structure. Her touch remained, as if trying to console its loneliness or maybe the fact of abandonment itself. Needless to say, it was very uncommon for them to find something like this in the middle of nowhere. Nameless fields outlined the puny gravel road. In this darkness they could barely take in the surrounding woods, that lounged in the horizon, like some kind of protective guards. They stared down at them both, while the grasshoppers sang in the background, filling in their pauses.
The weeds tickled the edges of Seishin's arms. He failed to approve of that. If it wasn't for Sunako's words, he would have discarded this reality into the back of his head long ago. They spoke so rarely... Why did she feel a need to break that mundane, even more so, for something as this…
Heat rose up to his eyes at that instant and he could not be grateful enough, that she had her back turned. The man eventually pinched on his bottom lip. The voice croaked out.
"That's not it, Sunako. We are hated..."
X X X
A soft clang, reverberating somewhere on the edge, caught Seishin's interest. He rolled over in their bed, so to lay on his stomach. Drained eyes peered at Toshio's half-sitting posture.
"What is that?"
"Oh?" Toshio stiffened before a smile arose. "I thought you were already asleep."
"I'm not that tired." He shook his head.
"Good for you."
"Toshio..."
"I did not mean anything bad with that."
"I know..." Seishin ignored the other's rash apology. Instead he pointed at the small rusted key in Toshio's hold. "What is that? Or am I asking too much?"
Toshio took a satisfied glimpse in his direction, before regarding the key.
"Not at all. Do you remember those old days?"
"When we swore to love each other?"
"Not those old days. Hell, Seishin, we were children back the-"
"Teenagers."
"Whatever." Toshio scoffed. His hand rose to ruffle Seishin's sweaty head. That was only for a moment, since his fingers trailed down towards his chin. The jinrou's eyes did not waver, even though the touch soothed his tired body. Toshio smiled at him again. "We were collecting trinkets in a crate..."
"As memories, I remember that. So you still hold onto it?"
"Ah. It's one of the few things I salvaged from Sotoba." Toshio nodded. The hand trailed on the other's cheek, the thumb rubbing in slow, practiced circles. "You can't blame me for that. I thought you had died in the fire..." A tiny halt, in which Seishin's heart hammered in fright. Unbeknownst to any of that Toshio hummed. "I missed you..."
"You're sentimental." Seishin rose up a bit, leaving the hand to waver in thin air. Toshio sat perplexed.
"And you're not?"
"Not anymore..." A strained answer... In fact, Seishin could not mourn at all. There was nothing. How he wished it to be different, how he wished to feel again. But... Then he'd have to fight through worthless labyrinths. Just a thought of that caused a twitch to run down his spine. A clutch of the covers. Seishin ventured further, despite his own restrictions. "I don't even know, what I...feel for you anymore..."
"Really? A bare hour ago you-"
"Toshio, I said, I don't know. Not that I don't love you anymore." Seishin fixed himself hastily. "I can't hold onto the past like you do."
"And now you make it sound, like I'm in the wrong. You do that often?" Toshio chuckled. Seishin rose an eyebrow. That was rhetorical, wasn't it? The silver-haired male's voice remained too calm for his own liking.
"I think we said, we won't talk about Sotoba's incident, no?"
"Yes. We were both wrong. Let's leave it at that." Toshio sighed with a flick of a wrist. He watched, how Seishin's shaded form settled down beside him. He waited for a bit, listened to the rare nocturnal birds and the hollowing wind, like a traversing diety, in search of something grand to tear... Seishin's heated side bumped against his shoulder and Toshio took that as a cue to run his fingers over the other's arms, tickling, soothing, until he found a palm and embed the key within. However Toshio did not allow his friend to pour him with questions. "You keep it from now. I held it safe for ten years, now it's your turn to guard the crate."
Seishin listlessly stared down at the given object. The stuffy air... It ached... His head spun. A slow hum escaped him finally. Wasn't this it then?
"Toshio..."
"Why do you sound so glum?" He leaned into Seishin. "I didn't say, get out, did I?" His fingers searched blindly again, gripped the loose key inside Seishin's palm, caressed the frightened knuckles. "I won't let you go now. I don't want to, call me selfish, sentimental... I don't know, how you found me here, but..."
The Order...
Order...
Order...
"Could you live with me, Seishin? Please?"
The silver-haired male chewed on his bottom lip, while icy nails scratched at his back. He hunched his shoulders, as if fighting it. However Toshio continued without any hints of dread, his hand still clutching Seishin's. Honestly, the gloom did well in hiding their expressions.
"I want to make this finally work between us..."
"That's not right..."
"Why?" Toshio let go of the other's strained hand. No answer came, after a sudden inhale. So it might have been made for some other reason. Toshio cocked an eyebrow. "Seishin, what's the-"
In the next moment the brunet found himself rolled on his back with Seishin on top of him. From this angle a panicked expression was visible, Seishin did not intend to hide it anymore... There was no point, if he did or didn't honestly. He already heard a muffled ruffle behind him, outside - so far away... He would not have paid it any mind, if it wasn't for the anticipation. There was no time for that apparently. Toshio's eyes were glued onto him dumbly. Had he really grown so naive and gullible or was Seishin just..? He grimaced. Wordlessly, the jinrou lay on Toshio's chest. His hands gripped the sweaty shoulders beneath him or perhaps simply got stuck, tearing off strength. When his voice came out, it was distorted, weak, breathless, a single:
"I'm sorry..."
The others weren't that coherent.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
While Toshio lay baffled, emitting a few soothing hushes, a resolute click sounded at the front door. Seishin sat up with a start, even though his shoulders shook.
"Come in."
The small frame waltzed closer and mingled with the shadows. Those had kindly lent their nails to shade her presence. Toshio felt a chill run down his spine, when he noticed abysmal eyes stare down at him from the edge of the bedroom. They were reminiscent, even if her voice struck no resemblance.
"Oh, what a pitiful sight..."
Seishin was beginning to tremble. His fingers dug into Toshio's shoulders, keeping him in place, crushing the doctor below him, as if meaning to fracture his ribcage under the pressure. Oddly enough, Toshio did not remember his friend having such strength. And yet despite this uncalled for offense, Seishin was weeping, shivering, muttering apologies under his breath like a maniac. The violet-haired girl was getting impatient on the other end.
"Muroi-san... Do me a favour..."
There was a feeble shake of the head. Sunako pinched her lips, locking her immediate displeasure tightly. Finally, Toshio had to interject the scene.
"A shiki, eh?" He gave a sour look at Seishin's buried head. There was a wave of anger sprouting inside of Toshio and yet he felt like a pile of rocks. Blood scuffled quickly to and fro, carrying one muffled twinge after another. It was bothersome... Despite the pooling betrayal, Toshio ran a hand through Seishin's hair, raking it. The voice sounded mockingly sweet. "And here I thought, you'd actually come back for me..."
"I'm..." Seishin's mouth was left ajar. Quickly, eyes jumped to a corner for solace and out of reach, whilst metaphorical needles pierced his insides. He could not say Toshio was wrong. From upon coming here Seishin had known the end goal... Doing anything was beyond his control, there was no point in disobeying...
"Seishin... Do you really think this is right?"
The silver-haired male swallowed in response. Those heavy words harbored no forgiveness. As Seishin raised his head, he spotted a disgusted grimace on Toshio's face as well. He glared at the frozen jinrou up until Sunako sank her teeth into the doctor's throat. What remained was a faint breath... Nothing more, nothing less.
Seishin tardily rose up from Toshio's weakened posture. He suppressed a shiver, watching the other's shallow breaths, the half-lidded eyes. He'd seen this before... So many times before, when she had to feed. He could turn a blind eye then, wallow in his own thoughts, disregard reality. Now it seemed that fate had punished him for his olden neglect. Tears welled up in the jinrou's eyes, burned the edges. Seishin blinked periodically, trying to push them back, where they had belonged. He had no right to cry... The silver-haired male was originally at fault. He had no right to feel anything...
"Muroi-san..." Sunako's gentle voice arose from the side. She tapped closer to him. Her crimson irises matched the splotches down her chin and coagulated on her exposed neck. She seemingly disregarded that, as she tilted her head innocently at him, her voice lulling. "Do you remember what you said?"
"Y-yes, I... remember." Seishin nodded gravely. For some reason, those words were thick under his tongue. They screamed at him from the back of his head, distorting his thoughts, his past and these sheer blissful moments, that faded all too quickly... Retribution...
"Then don't take this to heart." Sunako continued narrowing her eyes. "We promised, haven't we? We are forsaken, there is no other way for us... You said so yourself, Muroi-san..."
He did... Seishin downcasted his solemn gaze. The floor bore this grim revelation and the same burning shame. These irregular sunken holes could have well been a pair of irate eyes, judging him, cursing him... Since nothing arose from her companion, Sunako placed her hands on the sheets, gingerly leaning forward to the shaded jinrou.
"Would it have been better, had I slain an innocent?"
Seishin peeked at Toshio's sickly form, the latter was too far-gone to offer a response. A frown manifested, once Seishin finally took in the words spoken. He shook his head. Soon the jinrou's fingers haphazardly caught an end of the blanket, as he carefully slid off the bed. His hand involuntarily dragged along Toshio's heated leg, hoping to elicit any kind of reaction from the other. There was none. However Seishin did catch an end of the key in his descend. The man's fingers gripped it frantically, holding onto the warm metal, as if it was a lifeline.
"Ozaki-sensei's death will be for the better, for your own clarity and peace of mind. You understand that, don't you?" Sunako spoke after a moment, when Seishin had dressed in a further corner. He could not meet her gaze. There were too many emotions swarming on his expression.
"I understand... I'll fix him up, if you won't mind."
"By all means." Sunako's eyes glimmered. He came closer after a deep inhale and dry swallow. Sunako looked him straight in the eyes now. There was no doubt in them, not even a speck. She had been set on accomplishing this, a curled smile on her lips only strengthened Seishin's theory. With another held-in breath, the male lifted his hand to the bloodstains on her chin. Fingers skillfully wiped and rubbed at the blotches until there was barely anything left - a mindless routine... Besides, despite all the knowledge Sunako carried, hunger evaporated her common dignity. She leaned into his palm after he was done, nuzzling into the fresh smell. She began to lick his shaking fingers with the edge of her cold tongue. Nevertheless, the hand's trembling was irrational, something completely whimsical, that had settled in as a common procedure. Seishin had no idea, why had it always tagged along. Was he afraid of being bitten? Disobeying her somehow? Or did his body surveyed Sunako, as a wounded beast in need of caution and surveillance? Neither one of those fears held any merit...
She straightened after. The hand fell by his side without any strength. A glance was exchanged between them both, before she nodded and exited the room, giving Seishin some much-needed privacy. She was fed, after all, and Seishin had to clean up this mess.
X X X
Toshio sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand. He couldn't do much else today. The man's whole body felt sluggish, unable to concentrate, straying through useless thoughts, like the rooms of the house. He walked back and forth a couple of hours ago, trying to gauge the situation, find something here that could help distinguish, where those blood-suckers had headed and what should he do. Toshio was ripping his hair out by the end of it, finding a nameless wall to punch his rage into. And now, since his ardent feelings had been put on a somewhat decent leash, he could relax for a bit. Tiredness was crawling its way up. That emotion introduced itself as an old, forgotten friend, though acted too clingy for his taste... Absurd... One part of him was set on visiting a nearby town's hospital, but then again, he did not wish to endanger anyone else... He had to suffer through this and deal with the shiki by himself as well.
Toshio grit his teeth, palming his face, while the other hand pushed the coffee into the center of the table. The drink rippled and spilled on the wood. He only clenched his teeth harder, until his jaw began to ache. Why did he trust him? His Seishin had died long ago. That apparition was but a shell, a puppet to his own twisted morals and beliefs... Seishin said so himself, didn't he? He didn't love Toshio, far from it... And here the brunet sat mourning the last of his friend, the feeling of betrayal. Why? If Seishin oh-so-easily let him go, why couldn't Toshio?
He hated this, he hated this, he hated this...
"Bullshit..." A grunt flew out and Toshio swallowed a bitter lump, dragging it down, where it had originally belonged. Still the bitterness assaulted his throat, like that silver-haired monk, he used to know... It feigned ignorance just like him anyway... Bitter... Bitter... Bitter...
He exhaled shakily, before pushing the seat back with too much vigor. Wherever he looked, there Seishin stood with that mocking facade of his, seeming so calm and restricted, playing the victim of a larger scheme, that already boiled in his own head... The only thing his childhood friend was good at was making stuff up. Toshio emitted a tch.
His coat was yanked off the broken hanger, then he rummaged in both pockets for the well-known matchbox and a packet of cigarettes. Perhaps fresh Autumn air will clear his head.
A river met his vision, as he stepped out on the porch. Misty, coniferous woods stood on the other end far away. It was impossible to pinpoint them, since the golden tips merrily mingled with the ivory clouds overhead. The river wasn't as clear as it used to be during Summer. Now a cluster of leaves, some fractured or ripped, drifted according to the current. Toshio exhaled the first fume, letting his lips linger ajar. His house was enclosed with these forests, save for a little slithering road on the side... How on earth had Seishin managed to find him? After nine years no less...
His eyes narrowed suddenly. There was something standing on the edge of an overgrown garden - more to say an imitation of one. A pile of junk lazed beside that square of dirt. A tattered sofa was pushed further into the forest, along with a senile table. This had been the previous habitants' junkyard and unfortunately Toshio had no time to get rid of it, despite the foul sight the junk caused. His eyes now concentrated on that accursed area. Like a phantom he stood there, further away behind the tree, while glassy eyes were diverted at the brunet. A grunt and Toshio marched closer. The cigarette was clenched between his teeth.
"You..."
Seishin stood unfazed. The doctor could have humored himself, that he had seen that pitiable expression back in their childhood. Now, it did not bring as much confusion, as it gave rage. His hands haphazardly took a hold of the other's collar. For a moment thumbs deliriously traced the cotton fabric and its weaving, perchance wishing to savor it whole or what was left. There was nothing... After all, he...
Toshio stumbled, leaned at the jinrou. His feet hit Seishin's, then legs mixed together, until he sent the other falling. Again Seishin did not react, save for a slight frown, manifesting on his expression.
"Why did you..." Toshio cut off. His cigarette fell, thanks to an ajar mouth.
No answer. Not even a twitch of an eyebrow. It seemed like Seishin once again sought solace from his own depths, in fact, his blank stare meant nothing and lips were drawn together in a sense of finality. He was a lost cause by now. Regrettably, Toshio could not accept that... His pounding heart and the anger within evaporated all traces of life. Toshio forgot the afternoon breeze, the lazily setting sun, the cacophony of chirps and whistles inside the surrounding woods, the mild smell of sap beside him and eventually a soft mush of fallen leaves, which used to bring comfort to his soles... The same meld of crimson, gold and rust outlined Seishin's silver hair, framed his head like a halo - oh, how his delicate face fit with all of that.
Sickening...
Bitter...
With an exhale, Toshio's hands wrapped around Seishin's throat. He began to clutch, strengthening his hold, until his palms began to shake and pushed harder, as if tipping the last drops of sake into his throat. Seishin's mouth parted on its own accord, as he apparently fought for air, saliva slithered out with nowhere else to flee, while tears slid from his glazed eyes. Seishin did not fight back.
"W-why..." Toshio stammered behind his breath. Strength fled him, he had no will either. Why did it felt so different now? He was the same as them, wasn't he? Toshio had no claims, murdering his own wife. Why was this any different?
With a final breath, the doctor's trembling arms ceased to push against Seishin's throat. Instantly, a bulge rose up under Toshio's shaking fingers, he heard the other cough and heave after. The brown-haired male looked down at his own weakened limbs. A pathetic smile gave way to an empty chuckle.
"Huh. I can't kill you, even if I wanted to... You two really thought things through, eh?"
Since the other failed to respond, rubbing his throat. Toshio awkwardly hid his hands in the warned-out coat's pockets. Seishin stared up at him in confusion.
Before long they both found themselves, sitting on the couch inside the woods. Toshio's head rested on the edge of the backrest. His lower body was draped, like an unused rag. After another exhale from Toshio, Seishin looked up, his fingers abandoning the few scratched leaves, which had fallen beside him.
"I think we should start talking about what happened back then. There's obviously something I don't know."
Seishin narrowed his eyes, before shaking his head.
"There's no need. She's a survivor from Sotoba."
"Really?" Toshio's voice rose a bit higher in fake amusement. "Who?"
"I don't think it's important for you to know her identity."
"Gah! It's been nine years, Seishin, like hell I'll remember anything by now! Stop playing games and tell me!"
"No."
"Huh. You're so stubborn... Agh." Toshio scratched his neck, digits came across the twin bite-marks. He froze. The breeze tickled and he shivered, before releasing a gulp. "Hey, Seishin, could you... At least tell me... Whether I'll live?"
Quiet. The silver-haired male had his gaze set in the opposite direction. In the end, his voice mingled with the rustle of leaves.
"That's not for me to decide..."
"A shame, and for a minute I thought, you'd honestly want me dead."
"I would never wish that."
"Is that so?"
"Ah." Seishin straightened then, fearful not to lock eye-contact with the other.
"And if I kill that shiki of yours?" Toshio saw, how Seishin tensed. It made the venom in his tongue drip with more vigor. "You're rather close to her, ne? What then?"
For a minute they both sat in silence, Seishin's nails were edged into his own shin, tearing the flesh beneath perhaps. After a moment he pinched on his bottom lip and turned to face the other. His eyes held intention for a brief moment.
"Toshio..." A shake of the head. "You know it's pointless to talk in theories."
"Is it? Or does choosing still make you uncomfortable..." A devilish smirk crept in.
Seishin stood up, after those words had faded. He veered away from Toshio, admiring the setting sun and the fiery rays, which fell in fragmented spikes on the darkish wood. It was a beautiful sight and furthermore he desired for some kind of temporary escape. The man did not wish to leave, this might be the last he'd see of his childhood friend. And thus he stood, trying to settle his ardent thoughts and acquaintance with a fact of saying goodbye. Sadly, Seishin did not have much time for himself, since Toshio clicked his teeth.
"If you'd actually care for me, you'd never let this happen. You know that."
"I know and I'm sorry."
"That's all? Really now, Seishin?!"
"I'm sorry..." He offered again, giving a brief look back. The silver-haired male did not expect a firm hand to turn him in the next second. A glare - Seishin welcomed it calmly. He expected all of Toshio's rage and curses to fall on him like a rightful fate. He would not mind, if Toshio would lose it again and end him in spite. He would not mind... He wouldn't... But then there was also that hurtful flutter nestled in his heart.
Something inside of him feared to be blamed, to be guilty, hated. The same tiny speck, that still prayed for salvation, like a starved lunatic, wished to be loved, cared for and...
According to those demented wishes, hands rose to grip Toshio's clenched fists. Fingers ran around the whitened knuckles and Seishin wordlessly laid his cheek on Toshio's shoulder, causing the other to step back in search for stable ground. A grunt. Seishin wholeheartedly wished there would come nothing else. A deep fume was exhaled on Toshio's part and after a short minute or perhaps a whole hour, the brown-haired male rested his head on Seishin's opposite shoulder.
They rested without words and without reaching common ground, without an ending, that would benefit both. So much was left unsaid, but perhaps this was easier. Words could never fully express, what a warm touch could convey in an instant.
An evening passed by them, seeming scared to bring any unneeded distractions. And then Sunako approached...
Seishin dislodged his hands from Toshio's without much question. The brunet kneeled and only from afar he could see Seishin's expression. There was no clearance, since his face was distorted with darkened splotches, like a nest of curling snakes. Although a pair of cold, feminine hands broke his observation.
A sweet tone lulled next to his ear.
"This is for everyone you've killed... For Chizuru..."
X X X
On another nameless night Seishin asked to be left behind. Sunako had no complaints. Now he stood in front of the lonely house between coniferous woods. The silver-haired male took a lonesome peek at it once more. The abode will likely rot with no one to take care of it and then will be swallowed by these welcoming woods. Certainly, what a generous end. But there was one thing, Seishin thought, would not fit with such a calm demise. He crept back into the house, cautiously, slowly, as if fearing to invade on someone still residing within. Throughout this gait the silver-haired man's fingers restlessly fidgeted in his jacket's pocket. Sickly anticipation...
It wasn't hard to find the crate. Toshio's little closet was crammed and most of its space was lent to a chipped wooden box with a rusted lock. Seishin stared at it numbly for an uncounted minute. He hadn't seen it in so long. Nonetheless, he dared not to open it... Those memories did not belong to him. With the things Seishin had done, it would be disrespectful to invade their shared past. This belonged to Toshio, to their youth, to Sotoba - none of the things Seishin could attain... Soon the crate was carried outside. He paused, raising his head for a mindless confirmation. The sky was pitch-black - not a single star greeted him. Good. He preferred there would be no witnesses.
The man followed the slithering trail through the woods and along the river. The water slowly rippled and the branches swayed to a similar tune, as if trying to coax this finality to play out quicker, to an end, so they could finally rejoice.
Not far anymore... Not far...
There was a small opening, which led to an old bridge. Instantly, his glazed pupils sank towards the boat, which had a rope, tied to one of the bridge's poles. A rag covered a corpse, which had rested inside. Seishin positioned the crate with the key near Toshio's cold feet, before halting. For a minute he could have sworn he saw movement in the clammy body - his mind was playing with him again. It was getting tiresome, sadly his subconsciousness held no shame. A frown manifested and Seishin's hands rose to tear at his elbows.
"It'll be okay now..." A delirious whisper...
He climbed in, quickly gripping the sides for more stability, while the wooden boat creaked, apparently at its limit. Seishin whirled around in search of that heavy stone, resting on the bridge. Just a little more... And they could both rest down there...
Just a little more...
Seishin positioned his grip on the rock. His body froze all of a sudden, even though the man's head spun with that single wish. He could not... Just a little more... Just a little more - he kept pleading, despite the stiffness in his arms... Eventually, Seishin bit on his lower lip, feeling saliva flooding under his tongue. Weakly, he steadied himself: weary, lost, his legs unsure, where to place themselves between the crate and stray planks.
As much as Seishin craved it - giving himself salvation did not seem right. A desperate wail echoed throughout the woods, evaporating like worthless smoke. If anyone managed to catch his outcry, it will soon be gone from memory. Unbeknownst, they'll settle on another hopeless search, walking in circles with all their sins...
While standing on the bridge Seishin released the boat, bidding farewell long after it all faded.
-X-X-X-
A/N: I guess I could call this a songfic, since 'Thrice - the lion and the wolf' was a great inspiration. This fanfic took way too long...