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Two children, no older than 10, stood across from each other. They stood in a dojo, holding wooden imitations of swords, ready to fight. One had not known defeat so far and had been going from place to place, seemingly to show off his prowess, the other looked unimpressed with him.
The end of that match would shape the years to come.
—
Over the years, Fukuchi would never forget the moment he fell in love. When he was beaten in a match and would do anything for the stoic kid to be his friend. It worked, of course, he was nothing if not persistent. He didn’t realise it then, but only a few years later, he would know the feeling for what it was. He promised himself he would only confess once he beat his friend in a fight, only then could he be worthy of the feeling being returned.
He remembered how the feeling was like a burning fire, consuming him almost. It was a fight and Fukuchi never backed down from one. Years later, the burning fire he felt simmered down to a simple, warm feeling in his chest. Like a place to belong, like a home. Fukuchi wasn't sure if this was a better option.
But here he was, 15 years after meeting his oldest friend and being introduced to what is essentially his child. Ranpo was the kid’s name and while a peculiar child, Fukuchi understood how Yukichi got attached to him so easily. Yukichi himself was currently not present, as he had decided in a very unsubtle way to leave and let the two be by themselves so they could get to know each other. He wasn’t far, still in sight seemingly looking after them, but out of earshot.
“You love him,” was the first thing Ranpo decided to say with what could only be described as deep confusion. “And he loves you too, why are you two like-” he stopped and vaguely gestured up and down toward Fukuchi “-This”
“Simple, he doesn’t love me the same,” Fukuchi said, looking off to where Yukichi was. “And he’s currently involved with that Doctor,” he practically spat the last word, filled with venom as if it would reach said doctor, who wasn’t even near.
“But he does!” Ranpo almost sounded like he was whining, like a bratty child “He likes Mori, sure, but he’d drop it for you, anything else would be stupid.” He now even crossed his arms stubbornly. Fukuchi could quite like the kid.
“You were barely born when I met him, so trust me, I know what love looks like on him,” Fukuchi started reminiscent, the good memories he had of the past years were all with him, how curious
“I wouldn’t want to break it for him.” What Fukuchi didn’t say was, regardless of what happened with Yukichi’s love life, they were best friends, brothers in arms. Before anyone else, the other was most important. Mori could never know Yukichi like Fukuchi did and that gave him an ugly vindictive little feeling he wouldn't voice.
“But-” Ranpo wildly gestured around with his hands, looking for the right words until he crossed them again with a ‘hmmpf’. Very quietly he added, “You two look like my parents did,” and murmured something along the lines of ‘adults are strange.’
Fukuchi broke into a hearty belly laugh watching Ranpo try to stubbornly stand his ground. He gave him a big pat on the back.
“You’ll understand when you’re older”. Yes, he thought, he quite liked the kid. “I’m glad your parents got along so well.” This was also the moment Yukichi decided to return to them. “Look, I think Yukichi even brought some sweets with him.” And Ranpo perked right up, as if the earlier discussion hadn’t happened.
Fukuchi would always be a part of Yukichis life, be on top of everyone else, but he didn’t mind the second person to be Ranpo. He was a good kid after all.
(Years later, when Ranpo was old enough to understand, he still thought himself to be right. Fukuzawa loved Fukuchi just the same, which is to say, so much that a man who always struggled with words would never be able to tell the other. Not that Ranpo would make the same mistake, he thought, looking at a certain author.)
—
A decade had passed since that conversation, give or take. For some reason, Fukuchi now thought back to then. He remembered the small moment, where for just a second he realized the only times he had been happy were moments with Yukichi. The war had only brought suffering, only brought pain and death to people and this cycle of violence would just continue and take more and more and more people’s lives with the way the world was now. He had sacrificed almost everything in his life for something greater and he would continue to do so.
He remembered Yukichi’s kid, Ranpo, and the other kids he told him he’d taken in. The Agency he’d built to offer Ranpo a good life. Fukuchi knew all these kids had suffered because of the war. It would never end, no generation would ever know peace from this war or any that were to come.
Fukuchi needed to frame the Agency, his Agency, Yukichi. For his plan to work he needed a black sheep, a scapegoat to start it all, and he’d understand, right? Of course he would, he fought too. Not like Fukuchi did but he fought too. He suffered the consequences too. The years after, where Yukichi struggled letting anyone in or reaching out to him hurt, but they had made it through, they’d make it through this. He knew what it was like, Fukuchi could just explain it after the fact, but that would be fine. His Hunting Dogs wouldn’t hold back but it would be fine, he knew Yukuchi, his Agency would be strong and they’d be fine. It’d be fine.
He’d understand. It would be fine. So Fukuchi started to write on the page.
—
Two men, around their 40s, stood across from each other. They were on a ship, each holding a steel blade reflecting the sun, ready to fight. One, who has not only learned defeat but also loss, looked determined, mostly to make the other see, understand what was happening. The other mourned his best friend and first love though he stood across from him.
The end of the battle would determine the days to come.