As with all things under the sun, life's most delightful moments and blessings cannot endure forever.
Kazuki trudges down the uneven street, the package slung over his shoulder. He glances at it briefly, the leather wrapping worn but secure. He doesn't know what's inside—his employer only told him it was important. Important enough that his job hinges on this delivery going smoothly.
It's strange, though. Kazuki has worked as a carpenter for decades, cutting beams, fitting joints, and building frames. This is the first time his boss has asked him to deliver something. No explanation, just a short order, "Get this to the address before midnight. Don't lose it."
The faint scuff of sandals on ground pulls him from his thoughts. He stops, his instincts prickling.
Four figures step into the dim light of a distant lantern, their faces partially obscured by scarves. One steps forward, his voice rough and unwelcoming.
"Hand over the package."
Kazuki stiffens, his grip tightening instinctively. He doesn't recognize them, but their intent is clear. Maybe they're tied to one of his boss's rivals. Carpenters don't usually get tangled in rivalries, but businesses in this place are far from clean.
"No," Kazuki says firmly.
"You sure about that?" another sneers, revealing the crude blade in his hand. "You're outnumbered. Just give it to us, and we'll let you go on your merry way."
With no other word the first one lunges, and Kazuki sidesteps, slamming his fist into the attacker's ribs. The man crumples, but another moves in quickly, his blade flashing. Kazuki twists away, grabbing the man's wrist and slamming it against the wall. The weapon clatters to the ground.
For a moment, it feels like he might hold his ground. But then, the others close in. A kick to his stomach sends him staggering back. Another blade slashes across his arm, hot pain searing through him.
He fights with raw strength, landing blows where he can, but he's unarmed, and the robbers are relentless. A blade pierces his side, and Kazuki gasps, his knees buckling.
The package tumbles from his grip as the robbers snatch it, their laughter ringing in his ears as they flee into the night. Kazuki collapses to the ground, clutching his stomach, his strength fading.
His breaths come shallow, his cheek pressed against the cold, uneven stone. Blood pools beneath him, sticky and warm, the sensation sharp against his numbing body. He tries to move, but his limbs refuse to respond.
It's not long before he hears footsteps, faint but growing closer.
"Kazu-oji, what are you doing lying on the ground?"
The familiar, cheerful voice startles him. The brat? Why is he out here? His brother would never allow him to wander around this late.
Kazuki can't turn his head to look, but the footsteps grow louder.
"I escaped from home. So easy! Sousuke won't even know until we're back!" Shisane says as if hearing the unvoiced questions, his tone light and carefree. Then, with a hint of reproach, he adds, "I was looking for you. Why are you still working at night?"
Kazuki can't see him, but he knows the brat is pouting. He can almost picture Shisane's exaggerated sulk, his hands on his hips as he scolds.
Kazuki grits his teeth, trying to form words, but he has no strength.
Shisane huffs, clearly displeased. "Hey, why aren't you answering me? Come on, we have to go home!"
Kazuki feels Shisane's hands grab his arm and tug. The movement sends sharp pain slicing through his stomach, and he lets out a low grunt.
"Kazu-oji, you're heavy!" Shisane complains, tugging again. "Get up already!"
"Don't," Kazuki croaks, but his voice is barely a whisper.
Shisane's effort to haul him up shifts Kazuki's body slightly, exposing the wound beneath him. There's a sudden pause in the boy's movements.
"Huh…" Shisane mutters, his tone puzzled. Then, with dawning horror, "Blood?!"
Kazuki wants to reassure him that this kind of wound won't kill anyone, but his vision blurs completely, and the consciousness almost slips from his mind.
The world tilts once more, darkness creeping in at the edges. Shisane's voice grows faint, a frantic echo in the distance.
And then, everything goes black.
I dream of a star-devouring black sun, I am consumed by an overwhelming dread.
Sousuke stands still in front of their shared bedroom door, the quiet settling around him like a thick fog. He's grown used to Shisane's unpredictability— his twin's tendency to slip away or cause mischief at the most inconvenient times—but tonight feels different. There's an odd sensation gnawing at him, a quiet unease that he can't quite ignore.
He moves through the house slowly, his gaze flicking over the familiar surroundings. Everything is in its place, just as it should be. But still, something about Shisane's absence feels off.
Sousuke doesn't jump to conclusions. It's not the first time his twin has wandered off, and it's certainly not the first time he's had to track Shisane down at odd hours. But tonight, the discomfort lingers, a feeling that he's learned to trust more than he'd like to admit.
He briefly considers the possibility of Shisane being outside instead of hiding at the oddest corner of the house, running around or sneaking off for some adventure of his own. His twin's energy is endless—Sousuke has long since accepted that he can't always keep up with it, let alone control it.
The house is too quiet without Shisane's usual noise—his footsteps and chatter. Sousuke exhales quietly, pushing a strand of hair back behind his ear. He knows his twin well enough to expect him to be just outside, causing trouble as usual.
Still, that uncomfortable feeling nags at him, sharper now.
Sousuke's hand hovers over the door. He pauses, listening. Then, faintly, he hears it—a voice at the back of his mind.
His brother's.
The voice sounds far away, almost like a whisper carried by the wind.
Sousuke furrows his brow, the unease he's been trying to ignore goes up a notch. He doesn't panic, there is no use. Shisane is fine, probably off doing something foolish.
But still, that nagging feeling doesn't go away.
Sousuke steps toward the door, his movements calm. He doesn't rush; he's familiar enough with his twin to let a fleeting worry control him.
Sousuke tries to keep his composure as he steps out into the cool night air, but there's a tightening in his chest he struggles to dismiss. The nagging sensation in his gut persists, and he can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.
He takes a steady breath, trying to center himself. He tells himself it's just his twin's usual antics—Shisane running off for some impromptu adventure, getting caught up in something trivial. But the unease still coils in his stomach.
Sousuke doesn't question how he knows the general direction Shisane has gone. It's a strange certainty that settled within him decades ago, almost like a gut instinct. A bond between twins, perhaps. A feeling that tells him where Shisane is, even when the other is out of sight.
Without a second thought, Sousuke moves at a quick pace, running toward where he feels Shisane's presence. He keeps his movements controlled, focused, though there's a subtle urgency in each step.
The streets are eerily quiet as he moves through the district, the dim streetlights casting long shadows on the uneven ground. His reiatsu remains subdued, a constant presence that he keeps in check, careful not to draw attention.
After a few minutes of running, he rounds a corner and finds himself face-to-face with a group of people running in the opposite direction. Their eyes are wide, filled with fear, and they don't even glance at Sousuke as they rush past him, barely able to keep their footing.
Sousuke stops, watching them for a moment, a growing sense of worry trickling through him. The fear radiating off them is palpable, and it strikes him immediately that something out of the ordinary has happened.
His mind flashes to the worst possibilities. A hollow? Something worse? What could be worse than a hollow, anyway?
He stands there for a moment, watching the people fade into the distance, and then his feet start moving again.
Sousuke's heart quickens as he pushes himself harder, the urgency driving him forward. His thoughts race faster than his footsteps, a heavy weight settling in his chest. The fear radiating from the people who fled only fuels the gnawing discomfort inside him. He has to find his brother. He has to make sure his twin is okay.
But as he rounds another corner, everything comes to an abrupt, chilling halt.
The street before him is... gone.
It's as if the world itself had been wiped clean. The houses, the shops—everything that had been there moments ago—is now nothing but empty space, vanishing as if they were never there to begin with.
Sousuke skids to a stop, his breath caught in his throat as he takes in the sight before him. There's no sign of the normal hustle of civilization, no distant sounds of people or the usual murmurs of life. The ground stretches before him in a strange, barren void. It's not just an empty street. The air feels... wrong. Heavy.
It's as if the very fabric of this place is unraveling.
Sousuke's eyes dart around, his senses on high alert, yet everything is eerily silent. The edges of the vanished buildings seem to flicker and blur, as if they were never meant to exist at all. The dirt, the wood, the stone—it all dissipates, turning to ash and dust, fading into nothing.
Sousuke's reiatsu flares, a ripple of his power surging outward, but it's met with the same oppressive emptiness. No resistance.
He takes a hesitant step forward, his mind racing. What's happened here?
He pushes forward, despite the dread creeping at the edges of his mind. He needs to find his brother.
But with each step, the nothingness seems to stretch further. The ground is empty, barren, as if the entire area has just erased itself on a whim. His vision blurs around the edges, his senses stretched to their limit as the oppressive silence presses in on him.
After a moment, Sousuke starts to feel a strange tingling sensation beneath his skin. His body protests, a creeping sense of discomfort growing in his limbs. His skin, already pale from the lack of sunlight exposure, begins to flake—small pieces of it peeling away as if being worn down by the very air around him.
He tries to ignore it, but the sensation becomes harder to ignore. His body is screaming at him to get away, to flee from whatever this place is, yet he continues forward. Stubbornness outweighs self-preservation.
Then, he sees him.
Sousuke's heart races as he reaches Shisane, still kneeling amidst the utter destruction, as if he is part of the very pervasive emptiness surrounding them. His twin's wide, unfocused eyes are clouded, completely unaware of his presence, as if the destruction itself had washed away his awareness of anything else.
"Brother…" Sousuke's voice shakes, fear threading through his tone, but his hands are steady as he reaches for his brother.
When he touches Shisane's shoulder, the immediate contact of it makes his palm feel like burning. The sensation spreads up his arm, and his skin begins to fray—small cracks opening on the surface, as if something deep inside his body is being worn away by the atmosphere itself. Blood wells up from the fissures, leaking onto his fingers.
But he doesn't pull away.
Sousuke grits his teeth, trying to ignore the pain. This isn't important right now.
He needs to get Shisane out of here.
Shisane blinks slowly, his eyes unfocused. His lips part, and he mumbles, "Who…?" His voice is distant, as if he's talking through a thick fog.
Sousuke's breath catches in his throat. He's disoriented, just confused. He calms himself, trying to push the rising panic down. He'll be back to normal once this is over.
"Brother, listen to me. We need to leave, now." Sousuke's voice is firm, but it cracks with a hint of desperation. He grabs Shisane's arm and yanks him to his feet. His brother's body feels limp, and there's a wild, distant look in his eyes, but he doesn't resist.
Sousuke doesn't even care about the pain in his palm anymore. He doesn't care about the way his skin is still cracking open, the blood running down his wrist. He drags Shisane, stumbling, toward the wilderness, toward something that feels even vaguely like safety.
Behind him, the scene begins to shift. The edges pulse, as if it's reacting to their movements. He doesn't look back.
He's not sure if this disaster has already attracted the attention of the Shinigami, but he doesn't want to be caught on the scene when they come.
The aftermath is filled with palpable unease, but no one speaks of it directly. The districts of Rukongai are quiet in a way that doesn't seem natural, as though the events that transpired are too heavy to discuss, too unsettling to face. People move with a hurried kind of energy, their eyes furtive, but they do their best to act as though everything is normal.
Sousuke stands at the window of their small home, the familiar walls and woodwork around him somehow more comforting today, as if they were the only things left untouched from the disaster a few days ago.
He gathered that the Shinigami had arrived a few hours after he spirited his brother away from the crime scene. It was obvious they were confused. Their search was methodical but distracted, as though they couldn't quite piece together what had happened. They asked questions, gathering fragmented testimony from the witnesses, who could barely describe what occurred.
No one really knows what to make of the destruction. The scene itself seems impossible to explain, like a wound that etches itself into the realm.
Most people are trying to convince themselves it was just some freak accident, nothing more. A few are whispering about strange reiatsu readings, but nothing concrete. An unusually powerful hollow is being blamed for the destruction.
At least, that's what most are going to assume from this point onward. Anything else, anything more, is unthinkable. So, they settle on the simplest explanation, and with it, his worry of being discovered settles into the background.
He pulls his gaze away from the window and glances at his twin. Shisane is sitting on the floor, his gaze distant, but not entirely absent. He doesn't seem worried, just… detached. The change is upsetting, but it's not as if Shisane is unresponsive. He still reacts when spoken to, though it's clear his mind is elsewhere.
Sousuke doesn't move from his spot, pretending not to notice the discomfort building up in his chest. He's learned to ignore it, just like everyone else is learning to ignore the strange, lingering tension in the air.
Sousuke has learned not to mind that his twin has forgotten about him. There is a gap between them that has never existed before. Shisane's absence, his withdrawal, is something he has to learn to endure, just as he endures everything else.
Finally, he speaks, his voice calm but tinged with a note of unspoken concern. "Shisane," he begins, the name lingering in the quiet room. "Are you alright?"
Shisane glances up, his expression unreadable. He blinks slowly, as if processing the question, before replying in a flat tone. "I'm fine."
Sousuke isn't convinced. He can see it—the way Shisane's posture is a little too still, his eyes a little too empty. It's a far cry from the playful, attention-seeking brother he used to know.
"How is your memory?" Sousuke asks, though he's asked the question a dozen times already, each answer still somehow disappoints him.
Shisane shifts slightly, his gaze now turning back to the ground in front of him. He doesn't seem upset by the question, but neither does he seem eager to answer. "Nothing."
Sousuke doesn't press further. He can tell Shisane is in one of those moods—the kind where even a simple question feels like an interrogation.
I dream of a hollow sky where echoes go to die, I feel the weight of silence pressing on my chest.
Shisane's gaze flickers over to the boy who looks like him, the one who claims to be his brother. There's something about him—familiar, and yet, it's distant. He knows the name attached to it. Sousuke, he thinks, but the name feels like it belongs to someone else. As if he's hearing it for the first time.
They're in the middle of dinner. The food on his plate looks ordinary, but the taste is even more so. It's bland, flat, as if his tongue can no longer grasp the flavors that once mattered. No matter how much he chews, it feels like he's swallowing air.
Sousuke sits across from him, pushing his food around with the same lack of enthusiasm, though for different reasons. The quiet between them is thick, though not entirely uncomfortable. It's the kind of silence that comes with time, the kind that feels normal—for him, at least. Sousuke would probably claim otherwise.
Sousuke glances at him, his voice breaking through the stillness. "It's your favorite, you know."
Shisane blinks at him, confused for a moment. My favorite? He isn't sure if that's true. How could it be? But there's a slight tug in his chest, a feeling that he should like this food, that he should care. It feels like a memory, one he can't quite access. Still, the words come out of his mouth without thinking.
"Right," he says, though he's not entirely sure why he said it.
Shisane's eyes shift back to the food on his plate, the bland texture sitting heavily on his tongue. But there's a vague instinct tugging at him now, and he picks up his pace, mechanically chewing and swallowing. He eats more than usual, though it's not out of liking—more because he feels like he's supposed to.
His eyes flicker back up to Sousuke. The expression on his brother's face is unreadable, but there's something in the way he looks at Shisane. A quiet, steady gaze, like he's waiting for something.
Shisane tries to ignore it, but it's hard. Every bite feels like an attempt to fill the space between them, as if the act of eating might bring back something he's missing. But it doesn't. The food is still tasteless, the world around him still feels off-kilter.
Still, he eats. It's like he's performing the motions of someone who knows how to live, even if he doesn't feel it himself. His movements are quick, automatic.
Sousuke watches him, and for a split second, Shisane thinks he sees a flicker of something—maybe concern, maybe disappointment. But it's gone before he can be sure. Shisane doesn't understand why, but he's aware that every word he speaks, every motion he makes, is like an unwitting stab in Sousuke's heart.
"I still don't remember you," Shisane says softly. It's not that he doesn't want to remember. It's just that he can't. The memories slip away, no matter how hard he tries to hold onto them. And every time he tries to speak, it feels like he's breaking something.
Sousuke's expression falters. It's only for a moment, but it's enough for Shisane to see. It's almost imperceptible, but there's something there. Something quiet, deep behind his eyes. Vulnerabilities that he can twist.
Shisane wants to stop, but the words come anyway. "I still don't know who you are."
Sousuke's posture stiffens slightly, though he doesn't say anything. Shisane's heart twinges, but only for a second before the numbness overtakes him again. He would take a broken heart over this constant emptiness.
The silence drags on. He's going through the motions. It's all he's doing these days. But the hollow ache in his chest deepens, and he doesn't know how to stop it.
Shisane finishes his last bite of food, mechanically swallowing it without tasting. He sets down his utensils, his hand lingering over the plate as if contemplating whether he should eat more, but the desire fades. There's something about the way Sousuke is looking at him that makes him feel... uncomfortable. Unsettled.
Sousuke doesn't say anything for a while, just staring at him, the silence hanging thick in the air. Then, with a quiet sigh, Sousuke stands up from the table, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape.
"I'm going out for a bit," he says, his voice smooth, but there's an edge to it—something that's barely perceptible. Something Shisane can't quite place.
"Why?" Shisane asks, but the question feels pointless as soon as it leaves his lips. It's not like he wants to know the answer himself. He doesn't even know why he's asking. Simply, the idea of Sousuke leaving bothers him so much.
Sousuke doesn't answer immediately. He just stands there for a moment, hands by his sides, eyes looking at the windows. Then, in a low voice, he says, "I'll be back soon."
Shisane nods, though it doesn't feel like he really understands what just happened. Sousuke has excused himself, leaving him alone in the house, the empty space around him suddenly feeling much larger, much more harrowing.
It's quiet now. The only sound is the faint chirp of insects and the rustle of the wind outside. Shisane's fingers rest on the table, the cold wood beneath them offering no comfort. His gaze drifts to the window, watching the rain begin to fall, soft at first, then heavier as the minutes pass.
A strange thought bubbles up in his mind, and he can't shake it: 'Sousuke is leaving, is it my fault?'
'Of course, it's your fault. Your brother couldn't stand you. He pours his heart out, while you intentionally use it to hurt him. He regrets claiming you as his brother. He's had enough. You're a burden to him, and he doesn't need you anymore. He's better off without someone like you.'
Shisane waits a little longer, the stillness stretching on, the weight of it pressing against his chest. His fingers twitch, and for some reason, he feels the need to move. Maybe to clear his head, maybe to find something that will make sense of all this. Maybe to find Sousuke.
Shisane glances around the house. He reaches for the paper umbrella propped against the wall by the door, feeling the smooth texture of the handle as he grips it.
With one last look toward the empty chair where Sousuke had been, Shisane steps outside into the rain. The cold water immediately soaks through his hair, dripping down his face as he opens the umbrella.
I dream of a bottomless abyss, its edges fraying into nothingness, I fear I will fall forever.
The rain drips through the canopy, soaking the earth and creating small rivulets that wind their way across the forest floor. Sousuke sits in a small clearing, his back pressed against the trunk of an old tree, its bark rough against his soaked kosode.
He stares at the ground, watching as raindrops scatter the dirt, forming tiny craters that quickly fill with water. His legs are folded beneath him, his hands resting limply on his thighs.
His hands.
Sousuke's eyes drift down, landing on the pale, jagged scars running across his right palm, fingers, and up his arm. They look like cracks, faintly mocking his memories of that day a year ago. It's as if the marks have been seared into him, a permanent reminder of the moment he dragged Shisane out of the devastation and back into the world.
He turns his hand over, rainwater pooling in his palm before spilling out through his fingers. The cracks stretch along his skin like fractures in porcelain, so fine they almost seem delicate. But they ache sometimes, a phantom pain that flares up when he least expects it.
Sousuke flexes his fingers experimentally, watching the scars shift with the movement. The discomfort is dull today, just a faint throb beneath his skin. Still, he lets his hand fall to his lap, curling his fingers into a fist as if to hide it from himself.
The clearing was supposed to help. It usually does. The solitude, the space to breathe away from the weight of normalcy—Shisane's eyes, his detached attitudes, his thoughtless words.
The rain starts to fall harder, pounding against the leaves above and soaking his hair until it clings to his forehead. He brushes it back absently with his unscarred hand, his fingertips cold and stiff. The storm's chill seeps into his bones, but he doesn't move.
Still, Sousuke feels stupid. He should have ground his brother into his room for his unpleasant words—after all, they didn't share a room anymore after their uncle's passing. Or better yet, he could have kicked his brother out rather than excusing himself and getting soaked as a reward.
His fingers twitch ever so slightly as frustration boils beneath the surface. It's ridiculous to let the weather dictate his mood, but somehow, the rain feels like a taunt. As if the world is laughing at his effort to keep things together when nothing is.
I still don't know who you are.
Shisane's voice rings in his ears, that flat, distant tone that feels like someone else's voice entirely. The way Shisane had repeated the words "Sousuke" and "brother," tasting it like a foreign thing. The way he had looked through him, as if Sousuke were nothing more than a stranger passing by.
His hand throbs, the scars tightening as if in response to his spiraling thoughts. Sousuke exhales sharply, gripping his forearm with his other hand as if to stop himself from feeling it.
Sometimes, Sousuke wonders if his twin is purposely trying to hurt him, or if it's just a case of him being insensitive.
…
Sousuke feels him before he sees his brother—the shift in the rain above him. The steady drumming against his head stops abruptly, replaced by a faint pattering against a paper umbrella.
Sousuke looks up, and there he is.
Shisane stands beside him, holding an umbrella above them both. The faint light of the moon filters through the rain and catches on his face, his expression unreadable but neutral. His presence is quiet, unassuming, as if he's been there for hours rather than just arriving.
"How long have you been standing there?" Sousuke asks.
Shisane tilts his head slightly, the movement slow and deliberate. "Not long," he says, his voice quiet, almost drowned out by the rain.
Sousuke shifts, standing up, though his wet kosode clings uncomfortably to his skin. He looks at his twin fully now, noting the way Shisane's hand holds the umbrella steady despite the wind trying to tug it away.
"You shouldn't be out here," Sousuke mutters, his tone clipped, betraying a touch of frustration but lacking bite. He doesn't meet Shisane's eyes, instead focusing on the umbrella's edge where rain cascades off in tiny streams.
"I wanted to find you," Shisane says simply, as if that explains everything.
Sousuke exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "I don't need you looking for me. Go back home. You'll catch a cold standing around like this."
Shisane doesn't move, the umbrella staying firm in his hand. "You're the one sitting in the rain."
If his old twin were the one standing here, he would have added 'like an idiot' at the end. But this one obviously wouldn't.
The words aren't meant to cut, but they still land somewhere raw. Sousuke's jaw tightens as he finally meets Shisane's gaze. His twin's face is calm—distant, even—but there's something in his eyes that makes Sousuke pause.
Sousuke lets out a long breath, the edge of his frustration softening. "Did you at least finish dinner before running off?"
Shisane shakes his head, his expression impassive. "I didn't feel like eating anymore."
"That's a first." Sousuke tries for a dry remark, but it falls flat. These days, his twin never feels like eating unless he is truly hungry. The faint crackling of raindrops against leaves fills the silence.
Shisane tilts the umbrella slightly to shield more of him from the rain. "You left in the middle of dinner," he says, his tone placid. "Did I say something wrong?"
Sousuke looks away, "It doesn't matter," he says curtly.
"It does if it upsets you," Shisane replies. There's no urgency or anything in his voice, just a simple statement of fact.
Sousuke doesn't respond. The silence stretches between them, broken only by the faint patter of rain against the umbrella. Shisane stands steady, seemingly unbothered by the tension, but there's a faint hesitation in his posture, like someone stepping onto uncertain ground.
After a moment, Shisane speaks again. "We…" There's a slight hesitation before he continues, "We are twins. That, I believe, despite having no memory of my own. The similarities between us leave no room for doubt."
Sousuke freezes, his shoulders stiffening, though he keeps his face turned away.
Shisane doesn't seem to notice—or perhaps he does, but chooses to press on regardless. "I hurt you," he says quietly. "Constantly reminding you of your loss. I'm sorry. It's just…"
He pauses, his brows furrowing as if searching for the right words. "It's easier, you know," Shisane says, his tone almost clinical. "Hurting you is easier than trying to make you happy. I don't know how to be the person you want me to be when I don't even know how to be myself."
"I don't understand why it's like this," Shisane says, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. "Why I can feel your heart but not my own. Maybe it's something normal for twins. Or maybe we're different. Maybe we were one soul before, and it split—becoming you and me."
Sousuke's throat tightens. His first instinct is to dismiss the words, to brush them off as a clumsy attempt for an apology.
"I don't remember anything," Shisane continues, his voice unwavering. "But maybe that doesn't matter. Memories are fleeting, aren't they? As long as one of us is there to remember, that's enough. Because you and I…" He stops before pressing on. "You and I are fundamentally one."
"You don't even know what you're saying," he murmurs, his voice quieter than before.
"Maybe not," Shisane admits, a faint, humorless smile on his lips. "But you can't prove me wrong either, can you?"
I dream of collapsing worlds, drawn into an endless chasm, I feel the pull of inevitability.