Chapter Text
Dear Ash
Ash —
I'm worried to death because I haven't been able to see you doing well.
You said we live in different worlds. But is that true?
We have different colored skin and eyes. We were born in different countries.
But we're friends. Isn't that what counts?
I'm really glad I came to America. I met lots of people.
And more than anything, I met you.
You asked me over and over if you scared me. But I never feared you, not once.
What's more is you're hurt much more than me. I couldn't help feeling that way.
Funny, huh?
You're way smarter, bigger, and stronger than me. But I always felt like I had to protect you. I wonder what it is I wanted to protect you from.
I wanted to protect you from fate.
The fate that tries to carry you away, drifting futher and futher.
You told me once about a leopard you read in a book. How you believed that leopard knew that it couldn't go back.
And I said you weren't a leopard, that you could change your destiny.
You're not alone. I'm by your side.
My soul is always with you.
— Eiji Okumura
I guess that's technically the last thing he said to him.
-
"What?"
Unfathomable pain. That's one way of describing how he felt. Unfathomable pain tearing at the surface of his chest, his heart throbbing, beating so hard it was about to burst from the cage it was locked in.
Did you know that heartbreak isn't just a metaphor? People call it "broken heart syndrome," and it's real. Losing someone you loved so deeply is draining, so deeply, and emotionally draining. It's a rare case, but overwhelming loss has been known to effect physical health; including the heart. Thankfully, doctors can treat most cases, or at least help stop the never ending endurement of pain.
Thats what was happening to Eiji. Or... at least that's what he thought was happening.
At first everything was stood still, silent, yet he was aware of every little movement and undetectable sound in the room. Aware of his own pulse beating in his ears. Aware of the hair stood up on the back of his neck. Aware of Ibe-San's watery eyes, searching for his own.
Everywhere was swimming, and suddenly Eiji Okumura was drowning. Someone was forcing him deep under the ocean, allowing the salty water to scratch at his widened eyes that had somehow forgotten how to close. The air was closing in on him, his lungs compressed. Suffocating. Eiji was suffocating.
He was surrounded by all this water yet... his throat was so dry.
"Sick." The young boy finally managed to muster out, "I'm going to be sick."
Chest heaving, shoulders rocking up and down. "Cant breath." His hands were at his throat, clawing down his neck as though it would help him draw his much needed breath.
Ibe-Sans lips were opening and closing, his hand reaching forwards and resting on Eijis shaking shoulder. He could tell the older man was speaking, but Eiji couldn't hear anything other than the ocean crashing against his ears.
"...2....3....1....2....3"
His head was still submerged underwater but the soft words leaving Ibe-Sans lips were finally audible. "Breath Ei-chan. You can do it. Just... breath."
Their faces were merely inches away, eyes threaded through one another's as Eiji listened closely to Ibe-San's words of comfort, until alast, his breaths had returned to a steady pace, caught in the lump at his throat.
The older mans hand was caressing his face now, bringing it to his shoulder as they shared a somewhat awkward, yet comforting hug. "You're okay kid. You're okay."
Lies. It wasn't okay. How could any of this possibly be okay?
Nevertheless, Eiji nodded into Ibe's shoulder, letting out a shaky breath in attempt to rid himself of the thoughts threatening to swarm his mind. He wanted to know, he wanted to know how, he needed to know how. Why? Why was he...? Who could possibly...?
He didn't know how long he'd stayed in Ibe's embrace. Not long enough apparently, because as soon as the two pulled away, Eiji felt like he was being pushed deeper into the never ending oceans abyss.
"Sit down for a moment Ei-Chan," Ibe murmured, gesturing towards the small velvet sofa stood alone at the back of the room, "I'm going to get you a drink of water."
Eiji slowly nodded, taking a step backwards in the direction of the inviting seat. But not before catching his own reflection in the mirror set on the wall, directly above the petite fireplace that clearly hadn't been used for some time. The boy staring back at him was a ghost. Pale as any sheet he'd seen, widened eyes like a deer in the headlights.
It was himself. His legs shook as he took the next few steps towards the leather couch. It made an undesirable squeaking noise as he sat down, leaning into the armrest attached at the sides.
EARLIER:
"I got a phone call from Max, Ei-Chan."
"Wow, so soon?" Eiji was practically beaming, to excited about the statement to notice the grave sight of Ibe's face. "How is Ash? Did he get my letter okay? Did Sing find Lao? When can w"-
"Ash is dead Eiji."
"What?"
——————————
The conversation was engraved into his brain, written in big block letters by one of those permanent black sharpies pens.
"Here." A glass of water was suddenly hovering infront of his face, snapping Eiji from his intrusive trance. The glass clicked against his teeth, shaky hands not allowing the beverage to rest comfortably at his lips.
The silence was awkward. Unwanted. But what was there to say?
What could he possibly say that would make any of this okay?
"I called your mother to come and pick you up." Ibe sighed, sitting down beside Eiji, the leather couch mimicking the noise it had made earlier. "She's on her way."
"Oh."
Eiji took another sip of the water he was given, letting the liquid run down his burning throat. It didn't help one bit, but at least it was something to focus on. Maybe calling his mother wasn't such a great idea, the poor woman was going through enough with Eijis father constantly in and out of the hospital due to his suffering from severe liver problems. But before he knew it, there was a light tapping at the front door, a soft knock that Eiji could only recognise as his mother's.
"Oh Ei Chan, you're as pale as a ghost." His mother sighed sadly, her mouth twisted into a slant. "Thankyou, Ibe-San, for offering hospitality to my son." She bowed, before ushering Eiji to do the same.
"My pleasure, Okumura San." He returned the polite gesture, turning to Eiji and crouching down to his level. "Stay safe, Eiji." Ibe said in a low voice, offering a right smile "you have my number, please call me if you need anyone. I'm right here for you."
The ride home was mostly silent, the low hum of the radio being their only source of noise. Of course Eijis mother had been told what happened, but it was difficult to feel sympathy on Ash Lynx's behalf. First of all, she'd never even met the boy, although she may as well have since Eiji would talk back and forth about him non stop. Second, she thought him too dangerous. Her son came back to Japan in a wheelchair, a gunshot wound in his stomach; only to find out that it was the second time he'd been shot since going to America.
She couldn't express this to her son of course, he looked broken enough as it is....
"How about chicken katsu for tea tonight, hm Ei Chan?"
Eiji looked at his mother tiredly, offering a tight smile of reassurance. "Actually, I think I'm just going to go to bed." He nodded, as though he was agreeing with himself, keeping his head low as he kicked off his shoes at the doormat, and retreating to his room.
How strange. I cried so hard when we parted ways, to the point where they had to put me back in that dreaded hospital bed.... yet, why am I not crying now?
The young boy pulled his shirt over his head, turning at his reflection and inspecting the bandages smothered over his torso. It hadn't even been a week since he came home from America, so his wound was still painful at the touch. At least he wasn't planning on going back to vaulting, because a massive bullet wound in your torso might be a deal breaker...
A sad chuckle escaped his lips at the thought, before piercing his lips shut once again. Photography, that's where his career was headed. For a long time he'd hoped that Ash would revolve around the pictures he took, and for a short while... he did. There were dozens of photos that Eiji had taken of his beloved Aslan Jade, all prepared to be printed off and plastered into folders and frames.
Maybe it was a selfish thought, but he didn't want to share those photos with anyone; he wanted to treasure them to himself forever. After all, they were all he had left of him now.