The Darkness was Strange

The darkness was strange. It was frustrating. The light existed, there was color, there was a heaven, yet Shien could not see any of it despite being present among them. Settling in his bones was the resignation that he was truly ripped from the womb of existence, that he was an unfulfilled ghost living among the contented ones who delighted in the soft pinkness of the cherry blossoms, the endless sky of heaven, the fresh visual coolness of the water gardens and marble pillars…that between that beautiful world and himself was an impenetrable wall of estranged darkness condemning him to an eternity of alienation.

Then so be it. What was he now? What was his world? It was the silken sheets that hugged his body, the itchy bandages that covered his scars. The rustling of the curtains as the sun warmed breeze wafted into the room. Tea that lacked the vital warmth present in watching the steam rise above the transparent surface. Shien's world was a snowy pitch dark night, the coldness incessantly layering and lining his plane of consciousness until the soldier could almost swear that his moist breath froze instantly after leaving his body. So his voice, like the rest of his entire world- the bandages, the sheets- stayed close to his body…only for himself, as a constant reminder of a continuing existence.

And ever closer to his lips and farther from the world around him hovered the name of the dear one who could not be saved; the mutilated body under which Shien was found. It was a name he could no longer remember, even though in the middle of sleep it grazed his memory, evoking an ache that could never be relived except by his own shameful action. In that aching darkness, he desperately prayed no one looked on as he tried to remember a face, a name, a voice, a touch; any fading image to become the object of either hate or love. He had only himself. But when his own self was not enough and the darkness gave him nothing save for the memories of bloody battlefields and cherry blossoms… there was nothing to be done. He prayed for various other darknesses to overcome him- he considered unconsciousness-he considered death- but was always taken by neither fate.

Shien hadn't counted how many days he had been bed-ridden. His sense of time had been totally erased, having been formerly based on the rise and set of the sun. Day in and day out, but there was no day anymore. And no sun. No direction. No arrows. No bow. No function. His utility was gone, as was everything else beyond utility. Logically speaking, that everything else was a single someone else. That was all he knew, but who that someone was remained beyond the reaches of his memory. 

If he thought about it long enough, let his thoughts thin out until there was nothing but the feeling of sheets around him and nothing but the light smell of hot tea at his bedside…if he slowed his breathing…it brought the sensation of evaporation. Of not-thereness. Thoughtlessness, but momentarily. He was stretched thin, thin as the air around him until Shien's body forced itself to breathe and he was left in a state of utter daze.

Then through the daze, one or two memories dripping through, precarious as raindrops running off the edge of a leaf.

As the world grew increasingly still, Shien noticed footsteps punctuating his train of non-thought and grounding him back to heaven. They neared and the bed sunk slightly at the foot. "You may be blind, but you fake sleep rather badly. And by the looks of it, sleep takes to you rather badly." A voice floated out to him; then that feeling of so many nights returned. Shien shoved the feeling away with disdain. No. This was different. This was a stranger.

"For someone alive, you fake life rather badly as well." Shien replied calmly.

"Excuse me?"

"One who walks like a ghost," he continued coldly, sinking deeper into the down pillows of the bed. Shien reached for the cup of oolong tea by his bed and took a sip, enjoying the minimal warmth it provided. "Or at least attempts to make his presence as such…has questionable business. What do you want?"

There was a thoughtful pause at the other end of the bed. Fingers softly tapped against the mattress near his foot. "Want and duty are two separate obligations- one to one's own body, the other to an extraneous entity. Would it ease your fears to know I am not here to satisfy the former?"

Suddenly a voice started echoing in the deeper recesses of his mind, like the howling of wind resonating through a sinuous cave. Ghosts indeed.

"Is there such a thing as dishonorable duty, Shien? I would  like to think so. What celestial duty would have us whore our consciences away to some insane general? I can see you don't agree, but still…Shien, we're killing people. Do you not see it? This isn't duty. This is pay-off."

"Even duty has its downfalls. Even gods have ulterior motives. Duty, just like you, is questionable." Shien shot back, and was surprised to find the words falling from his mouth with the weight of lead. His head lolled forward and that feeling…the extreme thinness of existence… he was feeling it again.

"Yes, I must admit, I am quite questionable. What surprises me is that you still sipped your tea when I could have very well slipped something in it…which I did."

As clouds seemed to form around his thoughts, Shien's mind desperately flailed to grasp what little he had of consciousness. He opened his mouth, but words refused to form. He could not even curse his own stupidity, this time more of a flaw of mental blindness than physical. 

"Consider it what you will," said other calmly, bringing a hand up against Shien's neck to check his pulse. "because it doesn't change the fact that you will be under my care from now until your presence is requested in trial and investigation. Goujun will have my head if you aren't healthy by the time you are called for."

It was at that point he found out who this stranger was, because the dragon king held direct contact and authority over one man alone, and trusted only one man in this military…

Something…a sound…behind them made Tenpou jump. And as the world around him began to dissolve once again, Shien felt the hand at his throat move softly to the back of his neck where it gently pulled him up…like a baby…to meet a comforting shoulder that smelled of old books, cologne, cigarettes and cedar. A familiar smell, he thought. It brought him back a singular memory, and it was enough to fall asleep by.

I think I remember you, but it wasn't you, I don't think, but someone like you...but I can't recall, I just can't.

There was always that rumor Kasei took a lover. I wouldn't be surprised if this was the one.

******

Oh. You again. Kenren stood dumbly and stared into the dark room, making out silhouettes that seemed to waver in the dimness- to the point where you'd question whether they were actually there or if they were merely tricks the eye was playing due to alcohol, sleepiness, or maybe a little bit of both. From the point of view of the silhouettes, Kenren was a silhouette as well, framed by the eye-straining light of the hallway. All was quiet as silhouette faced silhouette and the reflection off a pair of spectacles flashed back at the general of the eastern army.

Kenren didn't move, contemplating on what to do. Asshole's reading my mind. Then again, Is he the real asshole who's trying to screw us all over or is he just a plain 'ol hey-what-a-coincidence-we're-on-the-same-track type asshole who doesn't have a clue?

Kenren had his gun. It could be handy. But it wasn't loaded. That wasn't handy, but it's not like the guy in the room knew the difference between a loaded and unloaded gun.

Oh what the hell, kidnapping's kidnapping. An officer's duty is duty plain and simple...quoted from the military manual page whatever, paragraph I-don't-give-a-fuck.

He pulled out the gun, then stopped short. There were voices. Footsteps behind him. Closer. Just down the corridor…Closer… Closer…

And before they rounded the corner, the taishou locked the door from inside and slammed it shut. "Dammit!!!!!" he grunted, causing the approaching party to speed up to a run.

"Kenren Taishou, what is the meaning of this?" demanded the Commander of the Northern Armies, his face reddening.

Kenren abruptly saluted. "My sources reported to me that the survivor is still in danger of possible attack. I came here to verify the health of the soldier, but found the door locked, sir. I think," he paused before raising his voice. You better hear me, asshole. "I think someone else is in there, Commander Takemura."

Takemura twitched, only slightly, his face pulled between relief and consternation. "Break down the door! That's an order!"

"Yes, sir!" A few good kicks and the door caved in with the screech of bending wood.

There was nobody within. And on the floor, a pool of blood.

The taishou blanched. "What the hell…" Don't tell me I pinned the wrong guy…

"Taishou." Said Takemura sternly, eyeing the room warily. "Report back to your commander."

"Shall I send out a search party?"

"That will not be necessary. Given the state of the soldier at the time of kidnapping, there is a minimal chance of a second survival."

"But what about the little chance that he's still alive?"

"If you can find him in time for the formal investigative trial, I will petition for a raise in your salary, Kenren Taishou. But," he continued. "…as it stands, the man is dead on the record until proven otherwise. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

You'd want that wouldn't you, asshole? Kenren saluted once more, turned on his heel and walked out the room. No question about it. You, sir, are it.

Weird. That was the only word he could conjure up to explain the feeling. Starting from second he saw that guy in the room, even though no name or title came up in his head to categorize the guy, even though he didn't remember his face or anything, Kenren felt this invisible tug from inside his body. Something tingled right in the middle of his forehead, in the middle of his chest…like between him and the other person there, the air parted and something whispered in his ear something he didn't understand but actually strangely did because in the end Kenren was doing something he wasn't planning at all to do. He just did it.

He couldn't really understand how the feeling was during those bizarre few seconds.

Sorta like…

Like that short moment between pointing and shooting. Blankness, affirmation of the act to come, affirmation of the consequences, resignation, hello and goodbye. Nothing, but a tightness of will telling you, yeah, it's supposed to be this way. Sort of like…

But gods are beyond that destiny thing.