Work Text:
*glug glug* All around are the sounds of the drowned dying.
Looking upwards, the sky was still obscured, black and grey intertwined to form only despair in people’s eyes.
A thunderstorm in the middle of the night, the sky seemed to break open and the pouring rain flooded everything on the earth. The surviving mortals climbed to high ground one after another to pray to God for salvation.
“Save me.”
“Please grant me with light and hope, free me from the suffering of drowning.”
Yukimiya Kenyuu stood on the roof, the flood had reached the eaves, but he did not panic. Instead, he scoffed at the fools who believed in the Lord only in their last minutes. These people who usually do not regard God as their only, who do not have the awareness of dedicating themselves to the Lord, but only seek His protection on the occasion of a huge disaster, having delusions that they would be favored and protected by Him, were both hypocritical and self-serving.
However, he does not like death, nor does he like darkness, and drowning was definitely not a good way to pass on. The only reason why Yukimiya was not afraid was simply because he was a devout believer of God, and the heavy rain was simply a trial from Him.
“God will never give us more than we can handle.”
The first time Yukimiya heard this sentence, he was ten years old. He had just finished his swordsmanship class that day. Children of the same age were throwing stones at the missionary who was wearing rags, slashing and playing around with wooden swords, imitating the adults who drive away crazy vagrants. He passed by with his wooden practice sword and felt out of place.
This country pursues only strength and authority, love only exists in family and blood. The missionaries who preached that for God so loved the world, the world should also love God, were branded as hopelessly foolish lunatics and heretics. Yukimiya has never heard the contents of these preachings, and he was not a follower who has fallen into the arms of God. He only focused on his swordsmanship, but the mottled bruises exposed under the missionary’s cloak made him unable to stand it anymore, and he unconsciously stopped them.
The indignant children dispersed, Yukimiya looked at the fallen figure on the ground and was also thinking of leaving. He did not mean well, he just felt that the filthy bruises would be an eyesore.
“*cough*, can I trouble you to wait for a moment? I would like to thank you for your help.” The missionary slowly crawled up from the ground and put his cloak back on, covering his black hair and bruises, and walked limping towards Yukimiya, holding him back.
He was about the age of an adult, but had no honor or dignity, wandering around in tattered robes. Such a person makes Yukimiya’s eyes flash with contempt, and he only felt that a lunatic was a lunatic after all, clinging onto the person who saved him. Just sparing him a glance and he will begin to talk about his belief in God, trying to brand themselves as the weak to gain sympathy.
“There’s no need, I still have things to do.” Yukimiya stepped back, widening their distance.
“Wait...” The missionary, unwilling to give up, chased after him again, and even boldly tried to stretch out his hand, as if to pull Yukimiya’s hand. Yukimiya subconsciously pulled out the wooden sword, fending off that thin and bony hand.
Fortunately, it was a wooden sword, so the back of the missionary’s hand only formed a reddish bruise, which would undoubtedly turn into a dark blue bruise the next day, the same color as the blueberries that were dropped to the ground because of the pain blooming on the missionary’s hand.
“Ah...” The missionary did not make that sound because of being beaten, but because he felt it a shame that the blueberries he wanted to give to the other party were knocked down and split open in the soil. Yukimiya naturally saw this scene, and naturally thought of the reason why the missionary stopped him. He only wanted to give Yukimiya the blueberries as a symbol of gratitude, and it was even Yukimiya’s favorite blueberries.
The missionary squatted down and attempted to find a few blueberries that were still in good condition in the soil. Yukimiya was unsure on what to do, and strange emotions rose in his body. It made him want to lift the shabby and pitiful missionary up from the ground, but also made him want to just turn around and leave, out of sight, out of mind.
But in the end, he still chose to squat down to help the missionary pick up the remaining salvageable, though small, ugly, and from just a glance one would know unpalatable blueberries, and then pulled him up.
“Enough, I don’t need it.” Yukimiya put the dusty blueberries back into the other person’s hand, saying that it was unnecessary, but only twenty percent of it was from disgust from seeing the other party’s thin and weak hand covered with wounds. How could a vagrant have warm and satisfying food? So naturally, how could he eat the weak’s rations?
“I’m sorry, the blueberries in the West Forest are bigger and more delicious. Tomorrow, tomorrow I will still be waiting for you here...” The missionary said as he rubbed the dirt off the small blueberries and placed them in his mouth, a shiver going up his spine from the sour and bitter taste.
An unwelcomed wind blew past, pulling down the cloak, and thus Yukimiya saw dull black hair and deep blue eyes, like the night and sea water radiating off each other, the corners of his mouth stained with blueberry juice, a harmless and lovely face, making one feel breathless.
“Missionary, what is your name?” Yukimiya did not agree to the invitation, but instead subconsciously asked the other’s name.
“I am the eyes and heart of God, I am His incarnation sent to walk on this Earth, my name is Isagi Yoichi.” The missionary gently tapped his eyes, heart and forehead, and replied slowly.
Yukimiya must be going crazy, for he was rushing with all his might to the agreed location right after finishing his swordsmanship class. Today’s opponent was particularly difficult, and so it dragged on until the sky turned dark. Before he had time to accept the teacher’s praise, he ran out, leaving behind not only the confusion of the crowd but also faint thunder and lightning.
Halfway through his run, it began to rain heavily. Yukimiya was able to find an abandoned stone house at the last minute to take shelter from the rain and catch his breath, thinking to himself just how foolish he was to keep an appointment with a crazy missionary, not to mention in such a heavy rain.
Yukimiya ran out of the house he was using to hide from the rain, while running, he cursed himself and the missionary who was covered in scars and dirt yet had the name “Isagi” (潔) which meant the opposite. Through the hazy curtain brought by rain, he saw the cloaked figure at the intersection from yesterday, alone and weak, like a dead wood floating in the water.
“Are you an idiot?” Yukimiya raised his wooden sword and knocked it on the other’s head, but the missionary just smiled indifferently and said, “The rain is God’s trial, God will never give us more than we can handle.”
Isagi (the) Yoichi (missionary) bent his waist and took out round, plump blueberries from a small cloth pouch, placing it against Yukimiya’s lips. The rain washed away the dirt, leaving only pure deep blue. Perhaps because of this, he then bit the fruit off the missionary’s fingers without any resistance.
The figure who was shorter by half of an adult pulled the follower who had no intentions of sheltering himself from the rain into the abandoned stone house from earlier, Yukimiya would, of course, not leave behind people in the heavy rain in the middle of the road. They were unable to make a fire, but at least found discarded fabrics which they could put on while waiting for their wet clothes to dry.
Yukimiya looked behind him at the adult who was ordered to remove his clothes and saw the mottled scars on his back. The rain could wash away the dirt, but it could not wash away the scars covering the entirety of his back. It was even more shocking to see them on a back where even bone was visible through the skin.
Isagi wrapped a piece of cloth around his waist, the excessive cloth placed on his shoulders. He turned around and saw Yukimiya’s stunned expression, and did not mind it, only bending his knees slightly to use the rag in his hand to gently wipe Yukimiya’s hair.
The wooden sword in the hands of a ten-year-old child would only leave bruises. He had never seen much blood or scars, not to mention think about the deeper meanings of life and death or love and hate. He just allowed Isagi to wipe his hair, warmth radiating from the close body and from the fingers on his hair. Perhaps the hands wiping his hair were too careful and gentle, or perhaps the kiss gently falling on his forehead after finishing with wiping his hair was overly pure and innocent, that only until years later, did Yukimiya realized that he had grown feelings of love and admiration.
“What are you doing!?” Yukimiya was very shocked at being kissed on the forehead, backing away repeatedly. His parents would naturally kiss him on the cheek, that was the love parents have for their children. Fathers and Mothers would kiss each other’s lips, that was the love husband and wife have for each other, but Yukimiya does not understand the meaning of Isagi’s kiss.
“It was a response. It is the piety of God’s love for the world. God will watch over and protect you and respond to you every night when you pray to Him.” While saying this, Isagi knelt on the ground, clasped his hands tightly and pressed them against his forehead, lowering his head slightly and closed his eyes. Suddenly, lightning flashed across, illuminating half of the stone house with light, the other half left in darkness. Thus, Yukimiya saw Isagi Yoichi in a praying posture with his head bent, but suddenly opened his eyes and looked up, half of his face bathed in light, the other half in darkness, holy like the Lord, impure like a devil.
To this day, Yukimiya would still recall in his dream, that right eye illuminated by lightning was as pure as a lamb, but no matter how much he tossed and turned, he could never see clearly what his left eye looked like in the darkness.
Since then, Yukimiya has become a believer of God. However, he did not share his Lord with the world, because the world was so ignorant that on the second day of rainy nights, the eyes and heart of God was chased out of the village. The same path, regardless how many times he passed by, until the blueberries in the cloth pouch rotted, he was never able to see Isagi Yoichi again.
He often recalled the rainy night when they sat together, Isagi reciting to him the miracles demonstrated by God when He walked on this earth: a lame child, after gently pushed by Him, ran faster than a leopard. A dancer with a monster living in his heart, with His help, found friends who would never disappear. An arrogant and greedy wolf, after having eaten His flesh and blood, stopped hurting mortals, and so on and so forth, with many more miracles created by God.
“The Lord is omnipotent and omniscient. He will always watch over and protect you, when you are in trouble, please do not forget, God is watching you. As long as you pray to Him, He will respond to you and save you from darkness and suffering, giving you hope and light.” Isagi’s voice, accompanied by the sound of the rain outside the house, fell heavily on Yukimiya’s heart. The person who Yukimiya turned to look at was also looking at him, tenderly and with a smile.
Yukimiya Kenyuu likes people who look at him and protect him, and also likes people who are always smiling.
And so, he became a devout believer, even though the parents who loved him died one after the other within a span of few years, even though he was alone in the darkness groping around for the future, even though he never heard the voice of Isagi (The) Yoichi (Lord) again after that rainy night, he would still kneel besides his bed before sleeping, both hands clasped tightly in front of his forehead, and sincerely pray to God, not seeking for luck, only looking forward to salvation.
The rain became lighter in the latter half of the night, but the water level still rose slowly but steadily, gradually covering Yukimiya’s ankles. There were several corpses floating around, half-opened mouths which just moments earlier were praying incoherently to God. Yukimiya saw on the far-left side a surviving wild dog paddling in the water towards a corpse, trying to use it as support, but the weight of the corpse was not strong enough to support the weight of the wild dog. As soon as it got up, it would sink again, and could only half-straddle the corpse and kept sliding down, but it gradually lost its strength and was about to fall into the water.
Yukimiya watched all this with cold eyes, but was still thinking that the rain was a trial from God. He followed Isagi’s example and tapped his eyes, heart and forehead. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the wild dog being picked up from the water, slowly being put onto a floating boat.
Who was it?
Who would prepare the boat of salvation before the doomsday flood?
Who would save a wild dog that no one cares about?
Yukimiya followed the line of sight, the figure in the rain was blurry, but he could still see that inhuman figure, with parasitic horns of the devil at the top of his head, wings spread out thinly on the back, with spikes attached. The boat slowly approached, and Yukimiya could see even more clearly the other parties sitting on the boat. One of the companions was with goat horns, and the other, slit-shaped pupils with bared sharp teeth, feeding the wild dog, and standing on the boat reaching out to him, was the devil himself.
The devil’s hair was also black, but with demonic horns growing out of it, twisting and intertwining; the devil’s eyes was also blue, but not as clear and bright as the Lord, full of filthy desires; the devil’s face was Isagi Yoichi’s face, underneath a lovely face was only obsession for domination and controlling those useful to his victory.
Without thinking, Yukimiya reached out and slapped away the devil’s outstretched hand, the disgust in his eyes about to overflow. Compared to ignorant non-believers, he hated the devil who voluntarily surrendered himself to depravity even more.
“Hey! The water will rise soon, what are you thinking? Come here quickly. My boat is big enough to carry one more person, the rain will stop on the first day and the flood will recede on the fifth day. By then, help will arrive...” Speaking of saving people while wearing the devil’s horns with even an urgent tone of voice.
“Why do you know the timing of when the rain will stop and when the flood will recede, and why did you prepare the boat in advance?” Yukimiya retreated, even though the water had risen to his thigh level, he refused the devil’s temptation without fear.
“Why do I know? Because I made a deal with the devil, the devil parasitized me, told me the doomsday, and helped me build the boat. But is it time to talk about this now? Come here quickly!” The devil saw Yukimiya retreating, so he got off the boat directly, the water covering him up until his waist, his black tail behind him floated on the water, like a water snake itching to swim over.
“I am the Lord’s follower, God will not turn a blind eye to His followers, and I would rather die than join the filthy things that are in league with the devil. You foul thing, disappear from my eyes immediately.” Yukimiya raised the sword he carried on his back. It was not the wooden sword from his childhood, but a sharp blade that could pierce the heart and bring death.
The sharp blade scratched the devil’s face, but the blood flowing down was red. And so, the devil stopped in his tracks, grabbed the blade with his right hand, and wiped the blood from his face with his left hand. The wound healed in an instant, although his expression was not pretty, he still stopped the angry companions behind him from getting up.
The devil did not care that his right hand was sliced open with the sword, and forcefully snatched it away and threw it aside. The weight of the sword made it sink to the bottom of the water quickly without even bubbles emerging.
“Even in this kind of situation, you are full of nothing but childish thoughts, huh?” The devil lowered his head, his black bangs covering his eyes, and his tone became calmer, but unable to make one feel reassured.
“I also have no interest in being on the same boat with a bastard like you who can only get off from being immersed in his own fantasies!” The devil raised his head, when he opened his eyes, they were dark blue, like the sea before a storm.
“Just watch. Soon you and your precious fantasy will sink straight to hell.” The devil turned around, ruthlessly left behind curse words and returned to the boat, ignoring the person behind him.
Yukimiya was enraged by the devil’s words and wished nothing but to chew and spit out his flesh, but he still remembered to first pick up his sword, to pick up his honor. When he looked up again, the devil’s figure and the boat had disappeared.
“Kind and merciful Lord, please open your eyes and look at me. Please save me from darkness and suffering, give me hope and light.”
Yukimiya silently recited words of prayer, until the water flooded his thighs, his waist, his chest, and until the soaked corpses pressed against his chest, making it impossible for him to say words of prayer, he was still conversing with God in his heart.
“Conversation? When was the last time God answered my prayers?” When the turbid water reached his chin, only then did Yukimiya realize something was wrong.
“This is God’s trial.” Yukimiya firmly believed and raised his head slightly, the filthy water flooding to his lips made him feel disgusted, so he recalled God’s response to him when he was ten years old, falling onto his forehead, as light as a feather, pure, flawless, and bright.
After that, God disappeared.
Since then, God has not responded. Whether the house was lit with candles all over, or the clasping of hands, kneeling in front of the bed and praying head down, there was no response from God. He did not slowly unclasp your tight hands, He did not gently hold your face, He did not kiss your forehead, He did not give you endless light.
When the water reached his eyes, only then did Yukimiya realize that he had been in darkness from the beginning until the end.
*glug glug* That was the sound made by a boy who believed in God.
*glug glug* That was the sound made by a drowned person before death.
Even if he did not open his eyes, Yukimiya knew that only despair lay before him, but he still opened them and chose to witness his own death.
Then he saw it, a lonely and weak piece of dead wood floating in the water.
Yukimiya could never reproduce his state of mind at that time, a roll of parchment would not even be enough to write out the entirety of his feelings, but he did reach out to grab the dead wood, even if it was not enough to bear his weight, it still gave him some buoyancy, enabling him to see clearly the world above the water.
The devil stained with desire stood on the boat floating some distance away from him, stroking his twisted horns while throwing dead wood at Yukimiya.
Even if ten rolls of parchment were given to Yukimiya, it would still not be enough for him to finish writing down his inner conflicts, only his survival instinct made him continue to grab on to the dead wood given by the devil and finally cling to the boat. The devil looked on coldly, showing no intention of reaching out, and so Yukimiya could only drag his exhausted body onto the boat, still holding onto his sword and glory in his right hand.
Seeing that he was still holding the sharp sword, the devil laughed and said, “Just in time, I need your strength.”
The devil saw that he almost pierced his sword into the boat and cursed: “Be careful, the boat is made of wood, not iron!”
Yukimiya laid on the boat, looking at the devil who kept changing expressions and could not help but laughed, coughing up the black water that almost got him killed.
“*cough cough*...thank you for saving me, so why did you come back again?” Yukimiya asked while lying on his back, looking at the cursing devil.
“I am just using you as a pawn, it is not just me who will survive the apocalypse, but also the bastard who wishes me harm and wants to ridicule and defeat me. You and your sword are just the weapons I will use to fight against him.”
The devil’s mouth only spouted self-serving words. His eyes were dark blue, a devil’s eyes should be full of arrogance and desire, but now should one look into his eyes, they would only see purity.
“But I never thought that you were still alive and could even swim here on your own, you are very powerful.” The devil sat close to Yukimiya, even though he exceeded his expectations, the devil did not hesitate to praise him.
Yukimiya was about to speak, but his slightly opened mouth touched something. It was the devil’s lips, though soaked in the rain, but they were frighteningly hot, like the blood of a lamb whose throat had just been sacrificed and cut open.
“What are you doing...” Yukimiya was shocked by the devil’s sudden action but did not push him away.
The devil smiled. It was a familiar smile Yukimiya was familiar with, a smile he liked. The devil touched his own chest and eyes, and then tapped his own lips.
“This is my response, if you want this, then please open your eyes.”
The devil closed his eyes and leaned down for another kiss. One hand passed through Yukimiya’s right hand and held the sword with him, while the other took Yukimiya’s left hand to touch his body from the waist to his chest where his heart was, and then led Yukimiya to pierce his heart with the sharp blade, the human’s sight dominated by the devil.
And thus, he woke up.
Yukimiya Kenyuu has awoken. The sheets in front of him were blindingly white, and the smell of disinfectant that he hated was in the air. He turned his head slightly, and saw a right hand with an infusion tube inserted. When he was first sent to the infirmary, he had to be pricked twice because the blood vessels were too thin, and the back of his hand, which was not very white, was already covered with palpitating purple. Yukimiya at that time thought it fortunate that he was asleep and unconscious, but saw his peaceful sleeping face frowning in unease.
At the end of the game, Isagi Yoichi fell into a coma due to exhausting his strength on the field. It was only when he was being carried by his teammate that they noticed his abnormal body temperature, and was then rushed to the infirmary for an IV drip. Even when the bag of IV drip was almost drained, even when the game between the other two teams on the same day had ended, even until the sky turned dark, Isagi still did not wake up.
His teammates were naturally anxious, even Kunigami who said that he was different from his past self, used the excuse of passing by to visit him several times, not to mention Yukimiya who watched Isagi collapse in front of him.
His words were powerful and sharp-tongued, but in fact he was so exhausted that he fainted even before he could leave the field, which made one feel both angry and funny. Yukimiya looked at Isagi who was sleeping peacefully, and thought that what he said before was indeed correct. Looking at him like this, the Isagi who was not sharp-tongued, was very cute.
It was not an adjective that could be used to describe boys, in a specific semantic context, it may be used to provoke or in a joking manner, but Yukimiya truly felt that Isagi was cute. Even when he had a quarrel with Isagi in the locker room after the first game, after returning to the same room, they were in adjacent beds. Turning over in the middle of the night, the sight of Isagi sleeping under the illumination of the fluorescent light of the clock still made Yukimiya think that he was cute, even though Isagi was someone who would directly look into his eyes and say words that touched a raw nerve.
The one who would look at Yukimiya, even though Yukimiya was not the only one he looked at; Isagi who would give Yukimiya a chance to resurrect, even though he said anyone would do; Isagi who praised Yukimiya outright, even though he said he was just using a handy tool.
The convergence of one’s strong points and shortcomings, the blending of light and dark, the overlap of purity and desire, this was his Isagi (God) Yo- (and) -ichi (devil).
Yukimiya stood up, reaching out to touch the bruise on the back of Isagi’s hand, and leaned down to kiss his forehead.
“My Lord, this is my response.”
His forehead Yukimiya touched was not hot but rather a little cool after the fever subsided. Yukimiya continued downwards, unminding of the bitter salty sweat that emerged again even after patiently wiping it away, and kissed his lips.
“Devil, this is my response.”
He looked at Isagi’s closed eyes and pulled away after hearing footsteps.
The doctor opened the door and was surprised to see Yukimiya still here. While taking Isagi’s temperature, he said: “I’m here to change the needle for contestant Isagi, contestant Yukimiya, have you been here this whole time? Actually, there’s no need to keep staying here. Contestant Isagi not only has a fever, but also rather severe physical exhaustion, and will most likely have to sleep for a whole day before waking up.”
At first, the doctor thought that Yukimiya looked familiar. He was the model that appeared in the magazine he reads from time to time, but never thought that he would actually be able to see him in real life, and was slightly moved. However, he was surprised by the other’s insistence on keeping watch by the bedside, thinking in his heart that contestant Isagi and contestant Yukimiya’s relationship was unexpectedly good, and that contestant Yukimiya was as polite and considerate as the photos in the magazine show. Even if the doctor himself tried to advise Yukimiya, he would probably still stay behind to look after his teammate.
Sure enough, the young man pushed up his glasses, shook his head with a shy smile and said: “I would like to stay and take care of him.”
The doctor thought in his heart that he was indeed such a polite and warm-hearted young man.
“I hope when Isagi wakes up, the very first thing he sees will be me.” The young man said slowly as he touched his eyes, glasses resting slightly on his fingers. His gaze never left the sleeping patient on the hospital bed.
The doctor found it hard to continue the conversation and could only laugh dryly. When leaving, he looked back curiously and saw contestant Yukimiya holding the other party’s right hand, gently kneading his fingers and leaning down. His back blocked the doctor’s view of the kiss and response, which was the only oxygen left in the lungs of a drowned person.