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To Washizu Iwao, a human was only worth as much blood as they had. They were a way for him to sustain himself, nothing more, nothing less with the exception of those that served him. After being alive for centuries, his emotions have dulled. The thrill of hunting humans at night was now a tedious job that he tasked his Whitesuits to find a suitable human for him to devour. Now, even devouring humans was becoming a chore of its own.
It was too easy and far too boring.
It was in the 20th century when Washizu discovered his gift in Mahjong. A gift that could only be described as a blessing from the Heavens, bestowing him with good fortune in Mahjong. There, Washizu Mahjong was born.
Humans are such simple-minded creatures, once they see a wad of cash in front of them, they greedily jump at the opportunity. For Washizu however, cash does not move him. The only thing valuable was their blood. The sheer terror and dread as more blood drained from their bodies brought joy to him, the same joy that he once felt hundreds of years ago.
The younger they were, the more delighted he felt. Sometimes they’d scream and beg for mercy, that they were too young to die, that they should be given another chance, and other pathetic excuses and pleas. It was all so amusing and Washizu found great delight in watching them slowly succumb to their demise.
He could never remember the faces of the humans he had drained nor could he recall their names.
Except for one.
Washizu broke through the residence and barged through the shoji doors. Alarmed shouting filled the area but he stormed through the building, opening doors left and right. He pushed the last shoji door open, slamming it with a loud thud.
Of all human faces, only one remained clear in his head. The same face now looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden intrusion.
Hee grinned. He found him. He had finally found the human named Akagi Shigeru.
There was a metallic gleam in the corner of his eyes. As he glanced over, looking straight into the barrel of a gun. There was another human in the room with them. The gunshot echoed throughout the residence, followed by still silence. After a few seconds, both parties erupted into panicked cries as they dropped their disputes towards the source.
The Whitesuits were there first, stopping in front of the doorway. The yakuza’s henchmen filled in the rest of the doorway, also frozen in place.
Blood was pouring down the man’s throat as he squeezed gurgling chokes out of him.
One of the henchmen seemed to have more guts than the rest, pushing others aside as he stepped forward. “Wh-what do you think you’re doing?!” he shouted out. “Get your hands off of Boss!”
The yakuza’s body dropped to the floor, twitching and spurting blood. Evidently, no one could save him at this point. Not with all this blood loss.
When he turned to the entrance, all of the henchmen turned pale at the sight.
It took a few seconds before one of them finally came to their senses to let out a shrill cry.
“M-m-m-monster! It’s a monster!”
As if it was a signal, the rest of the group turned tail and fled, screaming in terror.
It was a bit amusing to say the least, quelling the anger that was flaring up in his body. Who does that human think he was, pointing a gun at him? He reached up to feel the gaping hole in his forehead. Blood gushed from the wound as the bullet dropped to the floor.
“Handkerchief,” Washizu said as he flicked some blood off his hands.
No one moved a muscle.
“Did you not hear me? Get me a handkerchief!”
All his men hurriedly fumbled through their pockets to pull out their handkerchiefs. He wiped the blood off his face and arms, using up several that were offered to him.
The gunshot wound will disappear, the bloodstains on his clothes though… Washizu sighed. It was not what he thought their first meeting after years would go like.
“Apologies for this unsightly display of mine. Let’s head to the next room while this room gets cleaned up.”
Akagi only nodded in response.
Some of his men stayed behind and the others led the way through the residence to find a suitable room. Once they found a room and sat across one from another, he was able to take a good look at Akagi.
Akagi looked the same. How many years had it been since he last saw him? Washizu does not know. A few years or so was nothing to him. But the search for one human was more difficult than he thought. His mobility was severely limited during the day and Akagi left no clues on his whereabouts. The human had no close friends or family that he could find. When he finally received a lead, by then, Akagi was already gone.
But not this time. He was able to get here on time. Fortunately, so as it seemed Akagi had landed in some troublesome business. But despite what happened, Akagi didn’t seem to be fazed. Instead, the human was examining him closely.
“...What are you, Washizu?”
A familiar feeling ran through Washizu. He had been asked this question before.
Washizu looked down at his tiles and the characters on the tiles were swaying, he could not see them clearly. Eventually, they began to bleed.
Blood.
Yes, blood. If he could win, he would have the human before him dead. A human like him must be special, with the blood quality far exceeding that of a typical human. A dark swirling mass of bloodlust began seeping in as Washizu’s head spun. It would be blood so rich and thick that he’d be able to lather himself in it. It was blood fit for a godly being such as himself.
Never had a human’s blood been so appetizing, so enticing, and never had he felt… so hungry. His vision swam as it turned a deeper shade of red.
He had to kill him—to consume every last drop of blood from that human. He has to kill him! He has to devour him! To sink his fangs into his neck and–
A voice cut through his thoughts, forcing him back to his Mahjong table. Akagi, Ohgi, and that cop were staring at him. While the latter two faces were aghast, Akagi’s eyes had a hint of curiosity.
“What are you, Washizu?” he questioned, staring intently. Observing him. Studying him.
His attention turned to Suzuki who frantically motioned at the mouth. he understood. They had gotten a glimpse of what he truly was.
“A monster,” he answered as he bared his fangs. “A real monster.”
Akagi did not look surprised. Of course not. It was the same response as before.
“Why take the form of an old man?”
Amused, Washizu laughed out loud. “I’ve got to keep up appearances! How strange would it be if everyone grew old and frail, yet I remained full of youth? Every hundred years or so, a new Washizu Iwao will be ‘born’.”
“Is that so…?” There was a shift in his tone. Indifference, he realized as the young man stood up from the floor. “I’m going to take my leave now.”
He abruptly stood up. “Where do you think you’re going?! We’re not done talking!”
Akagi paused before the door, glancing back at him. “I know what you’re thinking. You want another match with me. Sorry, but I’m not interested.”
Washizu smirked. “I knew you'd say no, Akagi.”
His men were right about him. He was not like the other humans.
“I’ve lived a long time now. I saw countless humans come and go, their young self happy and full of vigor, and as they age… gone was that energy and vitality and they will begin to feel the inevitable pressure of certain death.”
No amount of money would move him to change his decision. Instead…
“Be honored, human!” Washizu stepped towards Akagi with arms stretched outwards. “I’m giving you the opportunity to get your hands on what all humans dream of–immortality!”
Then, Washizu waited in anticipation.
Living forever is what all humans yearn for. Why else will there be countless stories of a fountain that reverses one's aging even before Washizu’s time? The desire was there! It would be a dream for any human to simply live forever, to finally break past their limitations.
Yes, even Akagi would be tempted. No one can turn down an offer like this, but Akagi stood there, deep in his thoughts.
There shouldn’t be anything to think about.
You can become immortal! Just give in already! Give in to the temptation!
The look that Akagi gave him was more than enough. Washizu’s smile faded as the door slid open.
“Immortality? Living forever? You’re out of your mind.”
Out of his mind? Washizu stood there, stunned. Had Akagi just declined his offer? An offer that no human would ever reject?
Suzuki stuck his head into the room. “Washizu-sama! Akagi… Akagi is—“
Suzuki didn’t finish his sentence when Washizu bolted out of the room. He did not chase down the human. No, he stood under the moonlight with clenched fists, glaring at the back of his blue-collared shirt.
“Akagi Shigeru!”
The human did not look back. He continued as if he hadn't heard him. Washizu’s body shook as his eyes twitched. Such arrogance from a lowly human…! He should have been on his knees before him, thanking him for his kindness and consideration!
All humans have the desire to live. Every single one of them. Akagi was still a human! Deep down, he must also have that desire to live, even if it’s just a small part of him. Wait… Washizu’s eyes widened as a sudden revelation struck him.
He was still a young human, wasn't he? He couldn’t have lived more than twenty years. A human that young would not worry about death until the Grim Reaper was breathing down their necks. Yes, that must be the reason why Akagi rejected his offer!
Washizu’s face split into a wide smile.
“You’ll regret this,” he said, loud enough for him to hear. “No human can escape aging, not even you, Akagi. When you begin to struggle to walk or even stand… When you could barely see or hear… You’ll come crawling to me, begging me to make you young again.”
Akagi stopped walking, turning to face him with a smile. “Are you hearing yourself, Washizu? That sort of thing will never happen.”
He said it so defiantly, so confidently. But he was sure that Akagi would come to him.
“Oh, but it will!” he told him, gleefully. “Perhaps by then, you are already at Death’s door. It can’t be helped at that point. I’ll pay you visit instead.”
The young man hummed. “I’m looking forward to that.”
And me as well.
With that, the human turned the corner and disappeared from Washizu’s view.
“Washizu-sama… are you sure you want to let him go?” He turned to see his men there. It looked like they had finished cleaning up. “After all the trouble you went through looking for him… Even though he turned down your offer, at the very least, he should thank you for coming all this way. Shall we go and bring him back for you?”
The rest of the Whitesuits agreed in unison.
They did have a point. Akagi was disrespectful. Still, there was no point in dragging him back here once again. It was unnecessary and pointless.
“Let him go. We’ll see him again. Until that day comes, keep an eye on his activities.”
His loyal men bowed their heads.
“Yes, Washizu-sama!”
A vigil was to be held at night after the ceremony.
Distant shouting was heard throughout Seikan Temple. In the middle of it all, a man dressed in a clean, dark suit walked past all the fighting and into one of the adjacent buildings.
There he was.
He flashed a wicked smile as a familiar face turned towards him.
“I knew you weren’t dead, Akagi Shigeru.”
The once youthful face was now outlined with deep creases. Eyebags developed under what used to be lively eyes. Washizu was reminded of how fragile humans were, how easily and fast they degrade over time.
Pitiful was the only word that he could use to describe the human before him.
“I can’t stand seeing you in such a miserable state.” He took the empty seat beside Akagi. “It seemed like it was me who came to you instead.”
The human before him looked confused. “...Who are you?”
“What?” Washizu laughed. “Has my appearance changed so much for you to forget me? Here, let me change.”
He had a different appearance. Gone was his frail old body, instead, he was in his prime, or rather what others consider prime for Washizu Iwao. Slowly, his appearance began to revert. His untamed mess of dark hair dropped down to his back as it began to lose its color. His healthy tan shifted to a duller skin color and his body began to shrink. Soon, he was back as the same Washizu Iwao as years before, sneering at Akagi.
“How about now?”
Akagi’s brows furrowed, eyes looking Washizu up and down. There was a small flicker in his dull eyes before his gaze sharpened. “...Washizu Iwao?”
It looked like he hadn’t gone fully senile yet. Akagi genuinely looked surprised, eyebrows raised as he looked at him with an expression that Washizu had not seen before.
“You’re really here. I’m guessing you saw my obituary in the newspaper then?”
He scoffed as he folded his arms. “Of course! You’ve given me quite a scare but I knew someone like you couldn’t be dead! Why lie that you’re decreased?”
“It won’t be a lie.”
“What?”
Akagi chuckled. “It won’t be a lie soon. I’m preparing to die in a few hours.”
“Die….? What are you talking about?”
There was a pause.
“I have Alzheimer's,” Akagi explained. “I have been gradually losing my memory. I can’t recall today's date, much less my own age. So before I lose everything completely…” He tapped on the strange device on the table. “I’ll press this switch here to activate this machine. It’ll be a quick, painless death for me.”
“Nonsense. That’s all nonsense!” Washizu waved his hand dismissively. “Can you even remember why I’m here after all those years? I’m here to—”
“I remember,” he interrupted him. “At the very least, I can recall that night clearly.” He grabbed a glass of alcohol from the table, taking a sip before speaking again. “Immortality… that’s what you’re offering.”
Inflicted with an incurable disease, there was only one correct answer here.
“Washizu…” The ice cube softly clinked against the glass as he gently swirled it in his hand. “What made you think I’d change my answer?”
He looked at him in disbelief. “Are you… Are you rejecting my offer?”
“So it seemed.”
Perhaps Washizu was wrong. Maybe Akagi had gone senile.
“If I were to make you immortal, that disease of yours would vanish!” he exclaimed. “You’ll be able to turn young too! You can change your image to whatever you’d like! Do you not understand?!”
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand, Washizu. What this is all for is to die while I am still ‘Akagi Shigeru’.”
Of course, Washizu doesn’t understand. The human was throwing his life away for nothing. “With immortality, you can stay Akagi Shigeru forever,” he argued.
“Washizu.” Akagi set his glass down. “How many years have you lived? How many decades have gone by for you?”
Before he could answer him, Akagi continued to speak.
“You must have been Washizu Iwao before but now, that name has lost its true meaning. Are you truly still Washizu Iwao, even after all that time?”
“What are you talking about… I’m still Washizu Iwao! If you accept, you’d be the same.”
“I’m a human, aren’t I? Turning immortal is to reject myself, in other words, rejecting Akagi Shigeru. I will no longer be able to call myself Akagi Shigeru.” He leaned forward in his seat, looking Washizu in the eye. “You’ve said it yourself. How many Washizu Iwaos had you gone through at this point? The identity of the man was lost some time ago. Right now, you’re just a monster that calls itself Washizu Iwao.”
A monster.
Washizu’s brows furrowed, hearing that time and time again. Before his name, before Washizu Iwao, it had always been that. But perhaps that is only natural. Humans fear what doesn't belong, their attention never drawn to the man underneath once they discover his true nature. Over time, it has carved an invisible wound into his identity, splitting him into two, one of a monster and another of a man named Washizu Iwao.
But now, it was a decision between life and death. The more obvious and logical choice was to accept, even if it meant Akagi would be reborn as a monster. It was unacceptable for someone like him to die in such a pitiful way. To allow that rare and brilliant mind to rot away was unthinkable.
Washizu rose to his feet, standing over Akagi. His lips pulled back to a snarl. “I’ve decided.” He moved closer to Akagi and leaned down to grab his chin, tilting it up to expose more of the bare neck. “You will not die here. I’m making you one of my kind. Don’t even think about struggling or calling for help, my men are stationed outdoors.”
Unexpectedly, Akagi started to laugh.
“Washizu, I’m sure everyone is well aware of what you are. It’s well documented in stories and legends of what.” Akagi grinned. “You’re a vampire.”
The two locked eyes.
“You can bite me and turn me into one,” Akagi told him calmly. “But it won’t change the fact that I’ll die.”
“You won’t,” Washizu said. “You can’t die… You won’t be able to!”
“There is a reason why I’ve only ever seen you after dark, why all the windows in the mansion have dark curtains, and why you want to play with blood. All of these are known myths for what we call vampires.”
Washizu didn’t know where Akagi was going with this. Who cares if he figured out his weakness? It was nighttime, long hours before daybreak for him to seek out shelter that is the sunlight for protection.
“You can bite me,” Akagi repeated as he tilted his head further, almost inviting him to sink his fangs into the skin. “You can force me to be one of you. But the moment daylight comes, I’ll step outside and let the sun touch me. Washizu… what will happen to me then?”
Ashes. Akagi would be nothing but ashes. Not even a trace of him would be left behind. And Akagi only chuckled, sensing that his assumption was correct.
Washizu’s grip faltered, hands trembling as he leaned in closer, eyes wide as desperation slowly rose in his body.
“Akagi, be with me.” His voice shook, still in disbelief that Akagi would simply throw everything away just like that, even threatening to disappear from the face of the world. “ Even if you do not want to fully become a vampire, I can just give you a drop of blood every so often. Look at all my men that served me, they’re healthy even after years of serving me! They’re still humans in a sense, even if that part of you is still human, you can still be Akagi Shigeru! I can make it work, I will accept that. You don’t have to be like this. Please… You don’t have to die.”
His words were frantic, coming out in quick bursts as he searched Akagi’s face for any sign of hesitation. And then he saw it. Something flickered in the human’s eyes.
“Akagi…!” Washizu smiled as a great wave of relief washed over him that his plea had gone through him. Then suddenly, it vanished. Akagi only looked at him wordlessly with a faint smile.
Washizu had seen this look before. Countless soldiers who served the country had this very look. Wounded and on the verge of death on the battlefield, they’d look up at the sky and smile faintly. It was the gaze of a human who had accepted death. While Akagi was not at death’s door, the conviction was just as strong.
At that moment, the cold weight of realization pressed down on Washizu. His hand slid from Akagi’s chin, falling uselessly to his side. For the second time in centuries, something inside of him welled him, long forgotten due to time–a stinging sensation in his eyes similar to what happened during the climax of their match.
“Akagi... Are you really… are you really going to…”
His words trailed off. Washizu can’t bear it anymore. Emotions that he had once lost touch with all rushed back to him, converging into a massive mass in his chest that he was unable to bear. Before the first tear could be shed in front of Akagi, he had turned and bolted with his subordinates calling out after him. He ran off into the night, desperate to put Akagi’s death out of his mind as if refusing to bear witness to it would mean it didn’t happen.
Washizu traced the engravings on the tombstone with his finger. Fresh flowers were placed alongside numerous other offerings that others had left in the morning.
“Washizu-sama,” Suzuki said quietly. “The sun will rise in a few hours. Let’s start heading back.”
Washizu turned to his subordinates, all dressed in black just for this occasion. “Go without me… I’ll join you all soon.”
His subordinates nodded, each bowing before the grave before taking their leave.
It took a long time to calm down and think more rationally that he was only granted a few hours of the night to visit Akagi's grave. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag filled with Mahjong tiles that he had grabbed, the very game they had played that August night. He gently set it down beside the tombstone and clasped his hands together in a silent prayer
Fifty-three years was nothing but a short amount of time. It was within those brief years that had affected Washizu the most, bringing back emotions in their fullest that he thought had been dampened from the moment Akagi stepped into the mansion and to now.
Anger. Fear. Shock. Happiness. Grief. All of it.
It was a profound change and he hasn't been able to stop the tears from falling down his face at the vigil. Even now, drops of tears went over the dirt, weeping for a human that he swore to not forget, crying that he was a spineless coward that fled, not being able to witness the full conviction of an extraordinary man.
Akagi was surrounded by loved ones in his final moments.
“Right… love…”
Washizu wondered in the midst of everything, maybe this once dead emotion has been brought back to life as well.