Chapter 25 — Crush / Grape Fanta

"Go Yomotsu, go!"

Mercy probably had her hand cupped next to her mouth to amplify her shouting and was throwing her fist into the air.

"You have the edge!"

She sat on the wooden stool, behind the two armchairs that had been moved to face the new television set.

"You may have the edge, but I have Star Power," said Olivia, before tilting her guitar and going mad on the Whammy Bar while tracing the blue Star Power Path. She tilted the guitar again, and suddenly her Star Power activated, and Olivia let loose a hellish cry of victory. "You may play righteously, my dear Yomo, but the universe has equipped me with some pretty extraordinary tools and principles that will guide me to victory!"

The crowd was no on her side, and Yomotsu, try as he might, he could not regain momentum. He was missing the notes, when normally his timing was remarkable. "Through Fire and Flames" was about to end, and Yomotsu was left in despair.

"…Olivia, you can do it! Crush him!"

Yomotsu furrowed his brow. He was already losing in Guitar Hero to a woman about three times his age, and now Mercy was rooting against him. He heard Olivia rise from her chair, and he could do nothing to stop her from playing out the last notes of the song flawlessly. The crowd cheered, and it was over. Yomotsu shook his head in disbelief.

"How are you this good? You never played this game before—or even had a TV in this house…"

Olivia sat back down. "In another lifetime, I must have been a guitarist," she speculated. "Perhaps the lead guitarist in a punk band, perhaps a solo act with underappreciated skill… But in any case, I believe I owned you, Yomo."

He could do little else but nod. "This is true," he said. "But next time you won't be so lucky."

Olivia cackled. "Next time is now, and luck has nothing to do with it."

Yomotsu grinned. "This time I pick the song."

As "Paint it Black" started, Yomotsu and Olivia exchanged taunts and promises of victory. Mercy, throughout, playfully twirled her finger through Yomotsu's hair. Whenever Olivia started to get the lead, she would shout (with her voice booming in Yomotsu's nearby ears) and pull on his hair. Whether fighting crime or fighting a guitar battle, Mercy was right behind him, rooting him on.

It ended up being close, but Olivia took the win again. She was truly an unbeatable force in Guitar Hero.

"You're lucky this isn't Soul Calibur," he mumbled.

"My soul is sharper than most others," Olivia cooed back. "Bring it on, Yomo! Next time, we can play that!" She chuckled. "This is such fun. No wonder you and your friend with the cute butt like playing video games so much." Olivia had by this time stood up and started stretching. She turned to acknowledge Mercy again. "As well as this pretty young lady, here."

Mercy was probably beaming. She sure sounded pleased when she said, "Aw, I'm hardly half as pretty as Yomotsu."

"You are both so young and attractive," Olivia agreed. "Almost as beautiful as I was in my youth."

Yomotsu had a hard time imagining Olivia being young, especially because he could not physically see her now, let alone take that image and alter it to suit a younger age. Nevertheless, he smiled at what was likely the truth.

"I was not always the old woman I am today," Olivia went on. "I used to participate in beauty pageants. I advertised products. I was once in a soda pop commercial! But, youth goes away and people have to grow up. My brother and I went our separate ways, and well, Yomo, you know the rest from there."

Yomotsu nodded. Mercy was curious. "Your brother?"

Olivia sighed. Yomotsu heard her place her hand on the arm of the chair. "Albert. He was very ambitious, you see, and went into business. We did not keep much in touch, due to… ideological differences. I'm afraid for how much harm he might have been responsible for, but there's always people like Yomo here to clean up… And the 12th and Lunatic, of course."

Yomotsu smiled at Olivia's polite version of the story. When he broke the information to Yuri, he broke it in full. He did not regret being so detailed with his friend, but it certainly evoked a strong reaction from his friend. Yomotsu did not know how Yuri would take finding out that Olivia's maiden name is Maverick.

"There's a reason for everything," Olivia went on, feeling another wise tangent coming on. "And through all the pain and heartache I learned what it is to love, what it is to appreciate life and others, and what it is to appreciate the lot we're given. No matter how short or hard, I felt it. I have learned so many things, but the most important truth I've learned is that our time here is short and that we cannot take those around us for granted… Sometimes you might be angry at or resentful toward an individual, but the fact that you feel anything is an indication of your care for them and how sacred human love truly is. Life can take you away in the blink of an eye. We must live for those who have passed and for those who have yet to come to this planet; we all leave a trail and wake of influence, you see. My brother's and mine are trails that forked apart many, many years ago, and now his has come to an abrupt end. Mine continues on, toward the stars."

Yomotsu wanted to ask how a blind man is supposed to know where to place his feet, but he did not think it is appropriate. Right now, he was contemplating where to go, but for all he knew, one route might lead to a sudden drop-off. He scratched behind his ear.

"I am going to go get myself something to drink. Do you two want anything?" Olivia offered.

"Hot chocolate, with or without the marshmallows, please," Yomotsu answered.

"Coffee, with plenty of sugar and cream… Arigatou gozaimasu!" Mercy answered.

Olivia scurried off into the kitchen. Yomotsu then turned in his seat, toward Mercy. "Did I not tell you that her ladyship is the greatest? Olivia Walkins is great, no?"

Mercy chuckled. "She's so cool! I admit, I did actually kind of doubt you. I mean, for someone who likes Power Rangers so much, I mean… But really, she's really, really cool! I've never met someone so much like a cross between a wise sage and a rock star. She is both better than Nirvana the state of being and Nirvana the band. Granted, I don't really like Nirvana's music that much, but yeah…" She sighed. "You do know some really cool people, Yomotsu. Olivia, Yuri, and the people from Sakurami City you've told me about… So cool and so weird. But I like weird. Who else is friends with a Japanese cult leader?"

"Tsubaki and I really do need to Skype more often," Yomotsu muttered.

"I want to meet them, someday. I want you to introduce me to them, like you're introducing me to Olivia. Thank you for that, really."

She began to massage Yomotsu's neck and upper back. He did not expect it at all, and at first, his instinct was to flinch her away and create distance. This was not how people usually reacted to him—they usually thought of him as weird and creepy. Instead, here was this beautiful-sounding girl using her fingers and palms to release the tension in his neck and upper back.

"Yomo, dear, could you give me a hand in the kitchen?"

He did not want to respond to Olivia's call at first, but when Mercy's hands moved from him, he knew that the moment had left. He rose from the chair, nodded awkwardly in Mercy's direction, and went into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, Yomotsu felt a shrill, piercing sensation go through him. His body became cold, and his balance weakened. He had to find the door to the pantry to steady himself, as he felt the earth move beneath his feet—he pondered if there was an earthquake in Graceville—and then he realized that all of his senses were being effected.

He felt the earth move and his body grow colder and colder. He heard a screeching that was growing in volume. He tasted in his mouth at first something mild and stale, but it was becoming disgusting and rancid on his tongue and was stuck between the spaces of all of his teeth and crawled along his gums. He smelled the smell of decaying, rotten spinach, or something like it, too foul to ascertain what it might have once been. And he saw—Yomotsu saw whiteness, a sharp whiteness that contrasted the darkness he usually saw. There was nothing in the lightness, and there was no transition, just a sudden switch to brightness.

He crawled along the pantry door and found the counter. He had remained entirely out of Mercy's view the whole time. He felt like crying out to her, but he could not speak. He was choking on that awful taste in his mouth, and his mouth refused to move. The cold crept over his body, and the whiteness seared his mind.

Then, he heard Olivia speak.

"In another lifetime, you were killed before you could become a true hero of righteousness. You were killed in a survival game, when someone with another Future Diary slit open your throat with an axe. Were you fated to die such a failure? Was this the will of God? Or did it just happen? And if a person lives a whole life up to a certain point and dies in one universe, and in another universe lives up to that same point but lives… Are those two the same person? Are you the walking successor to a man who should have lived, or are you two different creatures?"

The screeching and foul taste and rotten smell and shaking ground and somehow even the whiteness each intensified.

"And if you should die now—or rather, if you should choose to not acknowledge and live out this crush you have on Mercy, if you should make that choice in this universe… And in another universe you do decide to pursue your crush on Mercy and are changed for it… Do both of you have the right to co-exist, albeit in different universes? Are you both real? Does it even matter, then, in the grand scheme which decision you make? Because in the end, it's only going to affect you and the small web of people in your life, people who in countless other lifetimes might be your enemies or might not even have met you, might not even lived long enough to become anything at all. But what if, what if there is one person who exists only in this dimension… What if you're a constant, and Yuri is a constant, but Mercy herself is only here, and was not in the other universes in which you have lived and are living in at this very moment and will live in…? What if the reason you weren't killed by Gasai Yuno, the reason the Survival Game never happened, is because you were meant to have this chance to love Mercy?"

Then it all went away.

The earth went back to its normal rotation.

He felt warm.

He tasted only his own saliva.

The smell in the kitchen was just the smell of coffee from the pot.

The white was again black.

And all he heard was Olivia's sweet voice say quietly to him, "Can you live with not knowing what would happen?"

It's been seven months.

Seven months since I first drank Grape Fanta with Yomotsu Hirasaka. That was the day I moved in and saw my roommate for the first time. Yomotsu listed that he wanted a roommate who "follows his own code of justice." This matched up with one of my secret motivations for moving to Graceville: on the surface, I told myself I was going there to escape everything in my past, but there was also a real desire to investigate the hero of righteousness who had started fighting crime in the town.

What would motivate such a man? Graceville was one of the safest places in the United States to live. When I first arrived, he was fighting petty criminals and acting as though he were doing something remarkable. Part of me wanted to show up to laugh at the scene that was inevitable: someone, eventually, would put the 12th in his place.

I had heard of this masked vigilante, but until I saw it for myself, I was in a sort of denial—I truly did not know what to expect when I saw Yomotsu dressed up in that outfit, when he fought Wi-Fi Man. I look back now on it and have to laugh at myself. I was being so secretive, but it was hardly necessary.

When I first met Yomotsu, he was sitting on the stairs, waiting for me patiently. He introduced himself politely and showed off his motorcycle. We went inside, and he asked me what I wanted to drink—and I said tea, and when he had no tea, I asked for wine. My decision was made for me when he offered Grape Fanta, because it turned out that is about all he had.

As I recall this, I crack open another can of Grape Fanta. Its rich, grape flavor tickles my palate. 100% natural flavors, no caffeine. Mostly corn syrup, but it is not a bad drink. I have taken quite a liking to it, much as it humors me to admit it even to myself. Just the same, it humors me to think how at first I worried about Yomotsu, when now I realize his character.

Had I come out from the start and told him my suspicions of him as the 12th, maybe we could have avoided fighting each other during that unfortunate Bryce Wayne incident. Maybe if I had come out from the start with all my suspicions about Kira, Yomotsu wouldn't have had to overhear what I said to Light out of anger.

But now I know that Yomotsu's nature is kind. He prepared a room for me that I now spend much of my time in. The only reason I don't spend more of my time in the basement is because I want to spend time playing video games with him and chatting over food. Yomotsu also gave me a second chance—me, whom he learned was Lunatic. He despised Lunatic for the same reason he later despised Kira—and yet he believed me when I so quickly said I was intending on reform.

That was the plan. I came to Graceville to put Lunatic behind me, to forever ignore the voice of Thanatos. Yet I wore the mask once again when Yomotsu was in danger, and ever since, I have sought to reform Lunatic. But Yomotsu has, thankfully, in the 12th created a persona that needs no more adjustments.

The 12th's code of justice, now much my own, rests on the principle that it is our duty to use our powers and courage and wit to defend the innocent from the guilty and to, in turn, bring the guilty into the hands of the proper justice system. If no such system of justice is in place, we advocate its reformation rather than decide the fates of men. Guided by his Justice Diary, the 12th gives criminals the evil eye and puts on his

—Transformation Belt—

—Transformation Tights—

—Transformation Gloves—

and

—Transformation Mask—

And yet, for his blindness, Yomotsu does not follow a code of blind justice. His is overzealous at times, certainly, but I never did have real grounds to distrust him. He is a much more intelligent individual than I had originally given him credit for. That he puts up with me as his partner and his friend—that shows the essence of his heart.

He is spending tonight with Mercy. He invited me to go with, but I hardly could accept that offer. It is Valentine's Day, after all—and even if Yomotsu and Mercy choose to deny the obvious, I shall not. They should spend it with each other, alone. Such is the proper conduct for those soon to be in love. Even Yomotsu must be able to see that, although it is sad that he cannot see Mercy at all.

She is a beautiful young woman, and the way her eyes light up at the mention of either the 12th or, more recently, Yomotsu—she is a bit too reactionary for my tastes, but hers is a pretty face it is unfortunate that Yomotsu cannot at least once see. On her bookshelf she has manga and books on Japanese culture and books with edgy and easy philosophy. She listens to punk music and says that her and I compose a "My Chemical Bromance." Her and I are, so to speak, "bros"—and she and Yomotsu are, I suspect, soon to be a separate entity in of itself.

And of course I have had to wrestle with this future. My natural suspicion of others is normally high, but after what happened with her former boyfriend, I am especially cautious of everyone who might want to befriend Yomotsu and I, let alone his former love interest. I know not whether to regard him as Luke or as Light in my mind. It hurts to simply label him as "Kira," because Kira could be anyone now. The ugly face has shown itself around in the lingering Cult of Kira. There are still those, albeit more silent in their expression, who support the actions of Kira.

Light is not the only one, then, who could have done what Kira did—Light simply had the means and, as he described it, the "boredom" that made this nightmare a reality. As Luke, he presented himself as a hardworking immigrant from Japan. He hungered for power at a grocery store, and when given the power in the form of the Death Note, he used the cursed book to write in the names of criminals across the world. He executed based on names and faces when he was not playing Soul Calibur and eating pizza with me and Yomotsu.

He lulled us into trusting him, because he wanted our names. We held him, we consoled him, we listened to him, and we even cleaned up the pretzels after he threw them to the ground—we spent that time with him, and behind our backs, he was against us. If we had not stopped him, if Kira had continued—I fear for what might have happened. Now Light is just Luke, and he is too busy to care about becoming the god of the new world.

But corruption is so rampant in this world—the Grape Fanta almost tastes bitter on my tongue when I think of it all… The 12th stopped Light by using his NEXT powers to persuade him into giving up the Death Note, thereby forfeiting his memories of the book. But my father… I stopped my father by murdering him.

He was a hero, the original and greatest. But his powers declined, and he began to drink and bottle up his aggression. He took it out mostly on my mother, and although I was young, I was keenly aware of what he was doing. "Never turn a blind eye to justice." That is the sort of thing he might say. "Grow up so you can punish evildoers like your dad."

But when I did stand up to my father, the urge to defend my mother mixed with my rage against him, and my own NEXT powers took hold of me. Flames burst from my hands, and I burned my father alive. But he didn't die in the green and blue flames. He is still alive. His ghost has been with me in the years since. I wanted to forget Thanatos and Lunatic. And I came here to forget him.

I might not have left Sternbild if my mother had not passed away. Her mental deterioration continued up to the end. But I would like to think that in her last moments, she knew. Because when she was in that hospital bed, before I was rushed out of the room and her attendants rushed in, she smiled at me. Genuine happiness—or maybe it was just the effect of some drug they had her on. But it was not the complacency or the anger that ruled her life since her son killed her husband. Her memory continued to lapse as she remained frozen in time, unable to accept the truth. She told herself back then that he would get better, that it was just a rough time, and she would not allow herself to believe that there would be no opportunity for improvement… For her husband, or for me.

And then she died. And I was only somewhat sad. She had been an empty creature ever since that day, and her death came as no surprise. It was easy to foresee and easy to accept, even if its consequences were profound on me.

I never saw Vidalia's death coming.

"When you see the rain, think of me."

I have always thought that, if I had read the letter as soon as I got it, I might have been able to reach her before she jumped off the waterfall. I waited to read the letter until after I was done with my work, and ever since, ever since… She is too painful to me. She is too beautiful to me.

This Grape Fanta is half gone now. I have shaken the can to confirm it. I look out the window, and I see the white expanse of snow that covers the neighborhood.

I wouldn't be alive today if it were not for Kotetsu T. Kaburagi. He and his partner, Barnaby Brooks Jr., made Lunatic's death look so real— and before even that, it was ultimately Kotetsu's idea of justice that saved me from an even deeper type of death.

In the emails we have exchanged since I left for Graceville, he has told me little about the hero business. If I wanted to know about that, I could just look it up—as I often do, admittedly. He mostly asks about me and talks about how he and his daughter are doing.

Only once a few times did I ever encounter Kaede Kaburagi, all as Yuri and never, thankfully, as Lunatic. He must have told her at some point, but she never seemed afraid of me in the slightest. That helped my impression of her, as a sweet young girl. One time at a HeroTV picnic I was invited to by Kotetsu (at the time it did seem really strange to even be there), I recall Kaede accidently bumping into me and gaining my powers through minor contact. She then nearly lit the whole picnic area on fire. She would have, too, if Blue Rose had not stepped in and gave Kaede her powers instead. I remember the "picnic on ice" as one of the fonder memories from my last few weeks in Graceville.

NEXT powers—they can be so destructive in the wrong hands, but in the hands of a hero, they can save lives. In either case, I doubt a NEXT can live a normal life. They can either live an awful one or an extraordinary one. But it cannot be boring.

If Light was a NEXT, maybe he would not have killed as many people.

But there's Bryce Wayne, who did not have NEXT powers but was going around the country, gathering up other heroes to form some sort of alliance against evil. When he dropped into the cold water that night, I wonder how many dreams died with his…

And when I think of dreams, as I drink down this Fanta, I can think of only Olivia Walkins. Perhaps she knows if Bryce Wayne is actually alive somewhere, somehow. She looks so fragile, our neighbor with the mole on her forehead… When Yomotsu told me she is Albert Maverick's brother, I did not know what to think. But right now, I accept it. She is allowed to be better than him.

Often the people we are close to are the furthest from us. Yomotsu and I are not like our fathers, Olivia is not like her brother, and Mercy is not like the man who claimed to love her.

Fun fact: Fanta came out of Nazi Germany. When the US put a trade embargo on Germany, the German branch of Coca-Cola made a new drink using only German ingredients. It was given the name Fanta after the German word "fantasie."

What!?

You again—why are you here, father?

You choose to sit across from me at this table. That is Yomotsu's spot. That is where he first drank Grape Fanta with me, where he drinks his hot chocolate and "reads" the paper. But there you are, sitting, breaking the chair under your heavy weight, sipping a Legend's Cola from a bendy straw.

Don't think you can convince me or convict me of guilt anymore, father! You were buried years ago, and now that my mother is at peace in the grave, the only one left on this earth who does not know you are dead is you, you disgusting, lingering ghost!

Is it not enough of an agony to know that I killed my own father?

Is it not sufficient enough that I suffer the image of your face, contorted with anger, seared with pain, burned into my mind from that day?

Are you still not satisfied, after I witness in my nightmares and sickest of dreams your body writhing in the flames, your eyes reflecting the death of my childhood?

Curse you, father! Curse you Thanatos!

You bore from hell a Lunatic, and you set him free, and you embrace him in the licking fire of hatred! Hatred toward self, hatred toward you, hatred toward injustice—so far do you spur on your hellfire spawn that he burns the whole world and his heart with his murders!

This cycle of killing then perpetuates, as I seek to undo all that you do and thereby allow it to continue—I kill the killers, and the heroes fight me, and I fight the heroes, and I become a hero and a killer at the same time, bearing the weight of the worst of both. Unlike the hero, I feel shame and guilt instead of honor and glory. Instead of personal wealth, I receive the opposite of a criminal's lot—I lose what I care most about and gain nothing. I lose my mind, I lose my humanity, I lose Vidalia! I lose my mother and I lose Luke and I lose Olivia and I lose Yomotsu!

Wretched father—don't you see what you are doing to me? And you smile, like you know! Like you would somehow know! Why can't you die, father? Why can't the voice of Thanatos go away?

And now—why

Vidalia, you become her… But you think you can fool me, by taking on her form? By showing me her as she was, in her beautiful full reality—what are you trying to do to me? I have not seen her face or body since before she went on vacation with her friends—and here she is, and it's you, not even her! She should be alive! And now you, you do this to me, you do this to me…

And you become Light, and that's more fitting, right, yes, because a dark creature such as you would be so becoming of Light… You and Light would get along just great, father… You created me, and he is the next step from me… He is me unrestricted, unattached… And now Mercy and now Olivia and now Kotetsu—why do you keep changing in front of me?

And now you think you're Yomotsu—mind, oh, mind! How ridiculous you are! How much of a fool do you think I am, eh? Just because, just because you see me this way, just because I am slightly out of my element, you think this is justified? You think this is a loss for me?

But I, but I…

And there, the culmination. I see you across from me, and you're me. You're Lunatic, and I see you there. But you're still my father. And I won't forget, and I won't let go, and I won't deny that you're still there in me, wretched father! Wretched devil!

Rise from the table—destroy me! Ha, ha, ha! Destroy me if you think you are the stronger one between the two of us! I have been winning so far, since I have come to Graceville! I have been winning, and you think—you think that you can just kill me now, now that I have a friend to protect? Now that I for the first time since Vidalia have come to love a human being—now that Yomotsu and Mercy need me, you think you can just…

Go ahead, aim your crossbow at me. Scorch me in the fire. Go ahead, just kill me, kill me. I see the light from the window, but I dare not look out—I see the light of the red moon! But ha, ha! Kill me! Go ahead—shoot me, Lunatic!

. . . . . . . . . . . .

M-my phone….

Hello?

No, no. I am… Fine.

Loud noises? Ha, well, I apologize for the disturbance, Miss Olivia. I have just been home alone, drinking some Grape Fanta. And I suppose… I might have gotten a bit carried away. Already, though, I feel a bit better. Thank you for calling me… If you don't mind, actually…

Maybe we should talk…