Chapter Text
Ajax has only ever felt the bitterness of the cold, after many years, this feeling was all he knew. The tips of his fingers were immovable with the feeling of frost, eyes clamped shut and his lips felt numb. Yes, that’s the feeling, cold numbness, he felt nothing else. He wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or awake anymore, it was simply, nothing.
He knew he was lost to the world he once knew, all of his past actions meant nothing, his present felt nothing, his body felt nothing.
For a long time he felt like this, nothing. This nothing was on the verge of consuming him, consuming his soul.
But then, he felt something. Vapor? The feeling of steam? The feeling of warmth. This feeling, it seeped through his soul, it warmed him up from his core to his soles. He felt his limbs able to move. As if breaking from his frozen chains, removing a weight so hard on his entire body, he gasped a much needed breath of air. His eyes finally opened.
The brightness of the area was almost too much for him. Although there was an opening in the room, a window clearly depicted a setting sun. The sun dawns the sky with its final rays of light before it sleeps. Confused at the sight he glances around the room.
His shock and confusion led him to believe he resided in a room, rather, he resided in a hallway close to a corridor and door. The source of light appeared to be a tiny fire lamp… or whatever it was, rather it looked like a tiny sun in the ceiling. Whatever individual resided here had keen abilities to keep fires contained in such a small ball of light. Speaking of which, shoes were kept near the door, more than likely to be a man’s shoes due to the size. So Ajax was still put on alert, wherever he was taken to must also be aware of his presence. Movement and noise was coming from around the corridor, with another source of light.
With all of his ability he did his best to carefully shift his weight from one side to another, preventing the other from hearing his slow advance. He had no weapon, but surely he would be able to out power the other and catch them by surprise. Those two factors are detrimental to this battle, he knew out of experience.
The slow movement of an unaware man was evident, clacking and shuffling of objects, soft but apparent footsteps. Sloshing of liquid and a presence getting closer and about to round the corner-
“Ah-“
Ajax had stretched forward a fist to collide into this man’s face. He was supposed to take down this man’s body with this movement, but he ended up right behind him instead. His own limbs splayed on the ground instead, he’d fallen. What-
“I’ve forgotten I’ve left the stove on, hm.” The man, still on his feet and not at all paying him any mind, set his bowl on the counter right beside Ajax to attend to what he’d forgotten.
Several clicks and clanks were heard. Ajax getting on his feet, to investigate his predicament much closer. He grabbed the counter to his right to help him up, and he reached out to this dark haired man. He tried to grab him by the shoulder to turn him around and interrogate him-
His hand phased right through his body.
“There, no more fire hazard concerns, at times I wonder if I truly am growing senile.”
He grabbed his shoulder and then back of his neck, where Ajax previously touched. Ajax gave a stern look, apparently unable to be seen by this man, he decided to face him directly to see him.
Realizing that neither of them are a threat to each other, he looks at him calmly and closely. He has a calm but stern look, well aged, but sharp slanted golden and vibrant yellow eyes. Something Ajax has never seen in another man, these colors in eyes are unusual to him, but ever so captivating. Almost like shining jewels or embers of a burning fire.This man also had a pale complexion, not like a sign of death, but almost like he was exhausted and tired, and skin as smooth as cold marble stone. He had long dark brown hair that stretched behind his back into a low ponytail, but at the tips of it they were dipped in an orange or yellow glow.
He appeared formal, but he was also wearing pendants and gemstones, jewelry. Definitely enhancing this man’s odd but elegant appearance. Utterly captivated by how unique this man was, he decided to continue watching, his presence was already ignored by him, so what is the point in attacking a man that won’t fight back? Sounds boring and not at all fulfilling.
He watches as this peculiar man’s face turns into one of thought, right hand close to his chin and fingers right on his lips. His eyes face to his right and upward to ponder.
“It seems that the AC is also not working as well, might need to leave a note of that.”
He wanders back to pick up the glass bowl he had left before he once fell, he wanders back to the entrance where he woke up. Ajax follows him carefully, not too far behind but still cautious. Only to see his guide halt in front of what was an altar, with interesting memorabilia.
Small candles that glowed without fire on this shrine. The glass bowl was placed on top of blue and red cloth, with an elegant design of water. On display was a sword with artwork of a man, moving along the waves with a spear and a grin. An old artwork of a young man with orange hair and void blue eyes.
Upon closer inspection, he felt that he recognized this sword, was it his? He recognized it so well that he felt such a strong connection with it. He reached out to touch it, and immediately he reels back his hand, before he could even touch it he felt the cold he was familiar with. He didn’t want to return to that, it was warmer here.
He looked at the other items on this small shrine feeling that connection between him and the boy of orange. All strikingly familiar once again. Someone he knew? None of this makes sense. What's going on? He was about to attempt to interrogate this man again when-
“Sir Ajax…”
His own mouth agape when he heard the man he did not know speak his name.
“… What?”
“I’ve come with an offering, hot and sour tofu soup, perhaps not something you’re familiar with but it warms the soul.”
“…”
“It has been many years since the tragedy, history has forever been altered since your time, and we have you to thank. You and your death was the catalyst this world needed, you’ve shown people the right path and we are forever thankful for that. Rest easy, and rest well, Sir Ajax. You are now where you have to be.”
He sighs “Alright well, dinner would be nice”, the man grunts as he gets up after that prayer, and passes right through Ajax and retreats for his meal.
Ajax’s eyes were stationary in shock. He now knew why the man couldn’t see him, why he couldn’t feel him, or knock him down.
He was dead. He was a ghost. He was awake many years later after his death. And he does not have a single memory of before his death. He can’t remember a damn thing. He can’t remember his family, or friends, where he lived, or a fragment of his past life. Even how he specifically died. He forgot all of it.
“…”
He looks at the bowl that the man sat down at the shrine. The bowl was very warm, and smelt of warmth and spice. He goes to pick it up, not expecting much, but he manages to feel it. The bowl was doubled, the bowl that the man put down is still there, but he now had his own bowl. His own meal.
He put the bowl to his lips and began to eat. A warmth he’d never felt before fueled him, the feeling of something else rather than cold chills.
It’s the most delicious meal he’d had… in a very long time.