Chapter Text
The night was silent.
When Yuichiro woke up, the first thing he noticed was that the futon on the other side of the room was already empty.
The moon stood high in the sky, bathing the world in cool silver.
Silent. Lifeless. No trace of Muichiro.
Had Muichiro woken up because of the summer heat? His brow furrowed.
Neither of them was a heavy sleeper.
Sleeping in the heat was nearly impossible.
He was probably outside, where the air was cooler… logical.
Yuichiro turned onto his back, gazing up at the ceiling.
In the darkness, only the blurred outlines of the wooden beams that formed the roof were visible. The familiar scent of wood and rice hung in the air. Home.
The floorboards creaked softly under his weight.
Slowly, he sat up.
Now that he was awake, there was no point in trying to go back to sleep—
he’d only end up tossing and turning in the futon like always. Fall asleep again?
Hah. Wishful thinking.
The fabric stuck to his skin, literally clinging to him.
Maybe he should have tried. But he’d already made up his mind.
Lazily, he leaned forward,
fumbling for his sandals with his feet.
Yuichiro would go outside too.
Not to talk—
they’d barely exchanged a word in weeks.
Yuichiro had long since grown accustomed to the silence between them.He ignored the ache spreading in his chest at the thought.
He didn’t want to speak.
He wanted to check if his brother really was outside.
After that… he would do nothing.
Just stand there quietly, without Muichiro noticing his presence.
Sure, just thinking about it
wasn’t exactly pleasant…
his behavior bordered on stalking, but it was different—this was just who Yuichiro was.
Different from how a brother should be.
No idea how to be normal and happy.
Tch.
Ever since their parents died, he couldn’t afford that kind of thing. Childhood,
the kind normal kids had:
It no longer existed.
On a night when the sky raged and the wind howled,
the world had collapsed.
The framework he’d believed to be solid had crumbled. The pillars—gone.
Only a pile of rubble remained.
Now it was his job
to piece it back together.
Still… it would never be the same.
Never. Again. He’d been forced to grow up much too fast.
He was forced to teach Muichiro
to grow up.
Things like mercy had no place in this world.
Not anymore.
Over time, he’d distanced himself.
From Muichiro.
He didn’t possess Kaa-san’s kindness,
Tou-san’s gentle heart.
He couldn’t coddle Muichiro.
Not when the world was steeped in injustice. It was the only way
to harden his brother’s far-too-soft heart. By taking it apart piece by piece,
then putting it back together. In the way that was best for him.
The Mu in Muichiro stood for Nothing.
~And yet, it was all that remained.~
A lie shaped by Yuichiro’s own hands.
He couldn’t let Muichiro drown in the lake
like a fish that couldn’t swim. So he taught him one thing.
Kindness was useless.
Not when no one could return it.
Not when that kindness brought nothing.
Especially not when his own heart was too soft.
Fabric rustled. The warmth of the bed left him—or maybe he left it, depending on who was doing what. Screw it.
Let it be empty.
His feet slid silently across the floor as he stood up and moved just as quietly toward the door. The floor beneath him didn’t creak.
Actually, it hardly made any noise at all, like wood or whatever.
Good for him—that meant it was quiet.
He could stay unnoticed.
His gaze darted outside—
a figure stood there, back turned to him, face lifted toward the sky.
Muichiro.
Like countless times before, he stood before their parents’ graves.
His head tilted back as he gazed up at the moon.
His face was bathed in a flowing mist of light, and the summer wind gently tousled his hair. At his feet spread a silhouette—a second, silent companion made of darkness.
In this stillness, he seemed almost a part of the night—
calm, distant, inscrutable.
What was he thinking at that moment?
About what had been…
…about what would never come?
Yuichiro wanted to know—almost.
And yet, his brother was someone he, as a twin, could never fully understand, no matter how hard he tried.
Silently, he leaned against the doorframe.
It was a night made for stargazing—no clouds marred the sky.
For a while, he just stood there.
The air brushed gently against his skin.
A ginkgo leaf drifted silently past him,
carried by the wind, before landing on the ground.
The wind carried the scent of stillness:
earthy, like the forest, like the mountain at night, without the chirping of birds.
Nightingales, owls… as if silence were made for the night.
Silent. Yuichiro could have stood here forever.
Could have.
But he couldn’t.
Muichiro turned—toward him.
His heart skipped a beat,
then raced in his chest.
Caught.
Like a deer before a wolf.
Damn…
For a split second, he weighed the idea of
“making a run for it,” but by then his brother had already turned completely.
Plan B.
Their eyes met,
and he froze for a moment.
Hah? Something was—
Muichiro…
He still bore the same features as his brother—after all, they were identical twins. But his posture was different.
He stood. Unfamiliar. Unfamiliar light. Unfamiliar. Nothing like what Yuichiro had known for years.
Maybe he should have been worried.
Maybe he should have asked.
He didn’t.
But that wasn’t it.
Muichiro wore an expression
that made him freeze.
His eyes reflected an emotion he’d never seen on his brother’s face. Never hoped to see.
Because it was… so unreachably distant.
Unreadable.
Yuichiro was a master at
reading his brother’s emotions…
Muichiro was an open book.
But this? Shit.
This was something completely new,
abnormal. He’d never seen anything like it…
Not even in the darkest moments of their shared loss, when their parents had died.
It was an expression he couldn’t name—
And then it was suddenly gone, as if blown away by the wind.
As if it had never been there.
Without a trace. Without anything.
Only the faint scent of something that had been… remained. And then…
There was emptiness. Cold. As if its arrival
brought the darkness between the stars. An emptiness that swallowed everything into its inner void.
It was those eyes. At the same time, it was him.
He couldn’t move.
Wasn’t ready to do so.
To go. So Yuichiro stayed.
He wanted to go.
Away, away from everything he’d burdened himself with—how stupid.
Muichiro looked at him for a fleeting moment. Fleeting, in the sense of…
Far away.
Silence. Loud enough to drown out the whole night. So loud. And yet noiseless.
Yuichiro’s heart sank further.
How was he supposed to—
The silence in the air snapped shut.
The thread tore.
Muichiro’s emptiness ripped open.
His eyes widened.
Froze.
Echo. It wasn’t there. Only in the in-between world,
where silence and night did not separate.
His gaze stared through him,
into his soul, as if searching for an answer hidden from him.
Searching. No. It was more like a…
Something’s wrong
For a moment, he looked relieved—or was it concern? The wind carried the silence away.
And the emptiness fluttered away softly,
like a loosened blanket.
And then… the waves receded from the sand as quickly as they’d come.
What remained was only the deep water.
Oblivious.
They became a shadow in his mind.
He opened his mouth
to speak…
a brief flicker passed beneath his eyes—then he closed it again.
A tight knot clenched in Yuichiro’s stomach.
Muichiro didn’t dare talk to him—
did he? That had to be it.
Something was blocking him—maybe it was uncertainty paralyzing him, or the silence between them, weighing so heavily on his shoulders. Was it the memory
of time spent together?
He’d forgotten what his twin’s smile looked like.
When had their last conversation sunk into a storm?
He had achieved something, but now Yuichiro had to face the consequences.
The gears tangled in threads,
until they could no longer move.
Not without untangling the threads with every rattle.
His fingers lightly clawed into the fabric of his yukata, a faint tremor in his fingertips. Did he hide it?
Fear. Anger. Hate?
Surely, he didn’t want to see the sight of his brother. They would never again share the love they once had.
And Yuichiro had torn it apart with his own hands.
What do you feel… Yuichiro asked the silence. Muichiro.
His gaze dropped to the ground for a brief moment before rising again—
Nothing.
Only two pairs of eyes that had lost each other.
The silence stretched, like a thread
pulled until it tore.
Taking the form of a heartbeat,
throbbing against his chest.
Two. Synchronous. The thought was unbearable.
Finally, Yuichiro could bear it no longer.
His footsteps broke the silence, carrying him away from the rift, further into the deepening void.
Behind him was Muichiro, ahead…
nothing. Just another sleepless night.
A night where the stars could offer him no comfort, where—
"Wait."
A heartbeat. He lost himself in walking.
Until Yuichiro stopped.
Stop. No.
Keep walking. Don’t look back.
When had the floor become so heavy?
He couldn’t move his feet.
Muichiro held him captive.
One word. Nothing more.
One word, a silver needle driving straight into his heart.
His voice…
Hoarse. Unused. Yet unchanged.
At the same time, he couldn’t recognize it.
Yuichiro couldn’t find himself in that voice. Muichiro.
There was something unspoken in it.
In a lake full of emotions.
Not to talk.
but…
Why?
He should have kept walking.
Without looking back.
Because that was what fate wanted.
That was what Yuichiro wanted.
Muichiro didn’t want it.
And somehow… maybe it was because of the silence. The cold, despite the summer season.
Maybe Yuichiro didn’t want to be honest.
But he stayed, shadows falling across his face. Stay.
GO! That was his goal.
Forgotten already? To re-puzzle Muichiro.
Break him apart and sort him anew.
Make him independent.
So that he could survive even without a Nii-san,
without any care at all.
Teach him to swim by first letting him sink. Learn to breathe with gills.
Sink.
Down into the depths.
In this moment, however, Yuichiro couldn’t.
Because the truth was:
Yuichiro couldn’t be a good brother.
He couldn’t be weak.
He was weak. In one place in his heart,
which he named after Muichiro.
Muichiro.
The wind brushed warmly over his skin,
whipping his hair along.
The air was heavy, as if thousands of stones were pressing down on his lungs.
A lone ginkgo leaf drifted silently past him. Landed on the ground.
Muichiro’s approach was a sound that wouldn’t alter the leaf’s trajectory.
He refused to turn around.
To look into those eyes.
What would they say? It’s better to leave things unspoken.
Don’t turn around. Not even
as his warm breath brushed his neck.
If he turned around now—too late.
"Thank you…"
Stop it. Stop telling lies.
What are you thanking me for?
He was a failure.
Had failed his duty as a brother.
He didn’t deserve a thank you.
Didn’t want it.
Said nothing.
"Nii-san."
Do you still see me that way?
Or just the shadows of myself?
His nails dug into his flesh.
So hard his palm throbbed.
To restrain the beast of his heart.
To suppress the surge of emotions rising inside him.
But above all… he hated it.
Why couldn’t Muichiro just
leave the abyss behind him, turn back,
realize it was much too deep…
After all this time?
For his own good.
So he wouldn’t fall. Yuichiro wouldn’t be able to catch him.
Because he was already on the edge of the cliff.
No matter what he tried:
nothing was what Muichiro would have wanted.
Did he want it?
Not like this.
The earth beneath him fell silent.
In that second, two things remained intact—
Space. Time. And in the middle of it—
Muichiro. Yuichiro.
Two lonely figures beneath the moon.
So close. Yet unreachably far apart.
And then… there was also a sound in the air.
A single note trying to play a melody. A piece of music.
Tack—tack—tack—
Like the baton of a conductor.
Two heartbeats. Yuichiro could only hear his own. But in truth, there were two.
Ba-dum, ba-dum…
Onward. Ever onward, until the sound was muffled in his own chest.
Breaths. In… out…
Synchronized. They breathed in time.
The silence would hear their breaths.
Not the heartbeat.
The sound of rustling fabric echoed in the void.
But a third sound played along.
A second. Invisible.
Warmth. Warmth that tingled at first,
before it was heard.
Skin. Real, living skin.
Embraced him. A hand placed itself directly over the place where his heart pounded.
His eyes widened.
On his. And it was… so.
So warm. Those arms held him.
Together. It was…
His chest tightened.
A hug.
In that moment… he could feel it.
A faint pulse against his back.
… A heartbeat… stop… heartbeat…
In time.
A symphony.
Something rested in the crook of his neck.
Hair. So soft… like a dove’s feather.
His head rested on Yuichiro’s shoulder.
It was warm. And yet…
The knot in his stomach tightened.
Ice-cold.
Something was wrong.
It shouldn’t be like this.
Wrong.
Seconds stretched.
How long had they been standing?
It didn’t matter.
He closed his eyes.
So tired. The waves had carried away his strength.
Why not forever…
Go! Someone was screaming at him.
It was himself. What are you standing around for?!
Leave him!Leave yourself.
Yuichiro couldn’t.
In this moment, he simply couldn’t.
Have I… forgotten my duty?
“I’m glad you’re here.”
But now it was dark.Sky and stars separated.The rain had fallen.Snow and ice… had parted.
He had thought he could hold on.
But it wasn’t so.
Yuichiro had fallen again.
No. A breath. A step.
And the sky fell.
Two birds flying past each other.
And so the warmth that had surrounded him dissipated.
Muichiro didn’t resist.
He let him go, but his fingers lingered a moment longer on his shoulder.
A hesitation. But Yuichiro had seen enough.
Felt enough. Now the warmth of the hug remained clinging to his skin.
He took a deep breath.
It smelled warm. Too dry.
When was the last time it had rained?
His eyes closed.
Tired. He didn’t want this anymore.
Why not stop…
Muichiro.
Why are you so naive? So kind?
And why… won’t you let yourself break?
"Why do birds fly away in autumn?"
Back then, they were both small.
Stupid. Ignorant.
Yuichiro had told him not to question things.
The truth was—he didn’t know himself. And now… he’d figured it out himself. Birds left their nests
to survive the cold winter.
Yuichiro was no different.
He left Muichiro to teach him how to survive. But in spring, he wouldn’t be able to return.
Not like this. He saw his self-cast shadow on the ground.
His eyes glinted coldly in the moonlight.
A gust of wind swept past.
Yuichiro turned around.
Blue met blue. Ice and water.
Snow and ice.
Birds survived winter by flying away from their nests. Snow would fall from the sky, but not the shadows of birds.
"Cut it out already."
A word that sliced through the silence. A sharpened knife cutting through lines of waves.
Yuichiro’s mouth moved on its own. Forming words—words that would drag them both down.
It didn’t matter.
"I thought something had changed."
The crickets chirped on.
"Tch."
Stop lying. A step. Backward.
Yet Muichiro didn’t react. No flinch, no contradiction.
Did the words even touch him?
"You’re even dumber than I thought."Then why am I holding on to you?
"Don’t you see, Muichiro?
I’m not the big brother you wish I was."
Too soft. He clenched his teeth so hard they ground together. For some reason, now that Muichiro wasn’t saying anything at all, his adrenaline spiked.
His words needed to be sharper—more cutting.
"Do you know how pointless you are? You’re standing there like a little kid. Begging for wishes."
A night owl screamed.
"Pathetic.
It won’t help.
Not today, and not in the future."
He didn’t move. Muichiro didn’t either.
"I’ve said it so many times. The Mu in Muichiro—"
His eyes narrowed.
Yuichiro was more than used to this.He wished it weren’t so.
He turned away. Couldn’t look Muichiro in the eye. He took a step forward. Then another.
"Stands for Nothing. Worthlessness."
That was it. Now Yuichiro would go. Would leave Muichiro with a hurt expression.
Muichiro’s look from earlier.
Before the words even left his mouth, he noticed it. None of it fit together. The situation. The words. With the situation.
Muichiro hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t done anything either. Absolutely nothing…
What?
As he spoke, he met resistance—
not from Muichiro. But from within himself.
Something’s wrong again.
Yuichiro turned around. And Muichiro looked at him. Not hurt, not shattered—nor nothing. It was simply that Yuichiro couldn’t read how Muichiro felt. What he was thinking.
"Why…"
The sentence hung in the air.
A vague suspicion crept into his heart, struck him, silently yet—the thought of it spread unease.
His face darkened.
It has to be, right?
"You’re not thinking about trying it again, are you?"
Muichiro looked at him.
What?
He looked at him. But not the way he was used to. Not overwhelmed by emotion, but rather as if studying something interesting. The reaction Yuichiro had expected evaporated into nothing.
Maybe Muichiro would have looked at the ground in shame. Maybe he’d have clenched his hands. Maybe they would have argued again.
But this reaction? It was… much too little.
Had Yuichiro assumed too much?
Had Muichiro long since abandoned the thought of demon slaying?
He closed his mouth, shook his head.
No. Muichiro must be tired. That’s all.
But deep inside, something rumbled. This time, it had nothing to do with demon slaying.
Something was strange about Muichiro.
Very strange.
Everything he’d been about to say
dissipated. Now there were just two boys standing face to face. How ridiculous it was. What was the point anyway?
Yuichiro turned around. The hug that had been warm now felt ice-cold on his skin. A numbing weariness gnawed at his bones. He didn’t want to stay here anymore.
Behind him, Muichiro remained alone in the silence.
X
For a while longer, a lone figure stood beneath the night sky. Then, as if someone had cut a marionette’s strings, Muichiro collapsed to the ground.
Like a defenseless animal, he lowered his head to the earth. Fingernails dug into the soft soil. Hair hid his eyes…
It was silent. But if you listened closely, you could hear a barely perceptible breathing pattern in the darkness.
"It’s…"
Eyes glistened.
"not a dream…"
That night had no clouds. Even when morning dyed the sky red.