Archive of Our Own

‘You’re a normal child, Saga,’

Was what Saga always remembered his mother used to say when he was little. He wasn’t sure what the cause of it was, but it seems like when he’d have things that would upset him or problems he knew not how to face, his mother would say that to calm him.

‘You’ll solve this like any normal child would,’ she’d advised.

He used to never know what she meant by that too, only that her hands threading his hair would feel calming enough. But maybe she’s just happy to have an unremarkable son.

The problem was, ever since he could remember Saga wasn’t sure if he was ever as normal as his mother seemed to believe.

Ever since he could remember, Saga knew not to take part on anything much to do with luck. Cleaning duties were a lost cause, and so does drawing straws to play the heroines in school plays (he grew up in an all-boys school, and somebody has to do it for the whole class). And he could live with that, really. What tasted bitter were things he really cared about. Baseball was one of them. He loved playing, running across the field under the sun with sweat making his shirt cling on his skinny back, standing on the mound trying to make his hands stop shaking long enough to pitch. He could even endure the few usual freak accidents that seemed to follow him everywhere. Sure, tripping on the base and falling flat on his face hurt, but he was still having fun.

It didn’t matter how much fun he had when he started hurting other people, though. The first dead ball he pitched that day grazed the side of the first batter’s helmet, but he’s okay as he jogged to second base. When the second dead ball almost hit the second batter on his temple, Saga winced and silently cheered when he successfully ducked. The third one wasn’t so lucky, and Saga could almost hear the cracking of bones when the ball hit the third batter’s knuckles. The boy’s steel bat clattered on the ground as his grip failed. Color left Saga’s face as the boy was taken out of the field by the medics and the rival’s coach. When his own coach called him over, he knew he’ll be quitting the club by the end of the day.

Years later his old teammates would still talk about Saga’s Triple Dead Ball, but Saga never quite able to erase the guilt from it.

He’d try to recall sometimes if he could remember when it all started, but that was the other thing that Saga never felt normal about himself; how his memories were like a bad novel with plot holes. Except in place of the plot holes were gaps of void in his mind, where he can’t assign any recollection to fit with the gaps at all.

The further he tried to dig at his memory, the more it crumbles. He’d look at childhood pictures where he’s surely old enough to remember, where even his little brother could retell in great details, and it won’t even looked real. He wasn’t even sure what felt uncomfortably faker—the pictures his mother cherished or the emptiness in his head where a part of his life should be.

Sometimes, nothing he remembered of his childhood ever holds up.

He’d asked his mother once, and she’d looked at him with such sad eyes it was making him feel sorry he’d said anything. And then she’d thread her fingers through his hair and said how he shouldn’t worry so much about the past.

‘You’re a normal child, Saga. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.’ She said, and Saga wondered if he imagined how her hand trembled slightly.

Silently he wished that it was true, for her sake. That he was her unremarkable son after all.

He tried his best anyway.

Trying to be an unremarkable person didn’t really work, of course, especially when his luck was still as rotten as ever. But Saga had sort of made his peace with the occasional broken bones and/or concussions, the job interviews turned disaster every now and then, and the penchant of the university’s computer lab to short-circuit every time he needed it the most.

The guy currently walking beside him though, has an inclination to take it personally how resigned Saga was to what he called ‘the ghouls circus over your head’. Maybe it was because he could actually see them, and could know even on an intellectual level what caused his slightly unfortunate life.

Sometime Saga would think how maybe he just wasn’t cut for this whole spiritual defense thing, and doesn’t Shou have other things to do than to train somebody who just couldn’t get better at this thing no matter how long they’ve tried? If he said the thought out loud, though, Tora would go ‘tsk’ and glared at him in annoyance. And then he’d walk him home while muttering about can’t he see how convenient life is without things falling on him from the sky?

Which was true. Being near Tora is convenient, since he has enough defenses to protect the both of them, even with Saga’s apparent magnetism concerning nasty spirits. But that also just showed him how much his ‘normalcy’ isn’t really normal after all, and sometimes after Tora left and the oppressing air surrounding him came back, he had to gasp for breath for a few minutes to adjust himself to the unclear air he’d always been breathing his whole life.

Thank everything holy the charm worked.

For perhaps the hundredth times that day, Saga circled his hand around the woven bracelet on his wrist. It was the first charm he ever used that worked and not dissolving into shreds as soon as he touched them. Uruha said something about how Tora’s energy was compatible with his, and that he’s certain a charm bracelet woven from Tora’s own hair would function fine, and he was right.

He’s been faring pretty well now even when he’s not near Tora. Shou said it wasn’t a substitute for a personal defense system, but for now at least Saga was grateful.

He didn’t even wake up in the middle of the night to weird sounds or unsettling feelings anymore.

If you looked at it that way, perhaps it was better if he was still got woken up in the middle of the night. He might saw the scratches growing on the corner of his room wall before too late.

The first time the bracelet felt hotter, Tora was in Life Drawing, and the sensation was so sudden his charcoal pencil flew out of his hand. It clattered against the floor, enough to make the professor look up from behind his own easel and asked him if he’s all right. Tora mumbled a ‘fine’ and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling.

The second time he felt it, it woke him up from a fitful sleep at three twenty in the morning, and he was then sure the bracelet was the cause of it. It prickled hotly against his wrist and he couldn’t even take it off no matter how he tried. Annoyed, he mumbled about ‘sneaky dimension wizards’ before rolling over, trying to get back to sleep.

He’ll go to the shop after class today.

Saga overslept that day, judging from the angle of the sunshine peeking through his window. When he opened his eyes to glance at the clock on the wall, he froze.

There was what seemed at first like overlapping scratches all over his wall, up through the ceiling. After a few moments he realized they were words, and he could read them in their coarse and angry shapes. A small sound reached him, and he looked to the side of his head to realize new scratches were forming on the wall nearest to him too.

He looked on, horrified, as the scratches formed a question mark.

Saa-chan do you remember me? the scratches asked.

Saga couldn’t leave his apartment fast enough to go straight to the shop.

Tora was already at the genkan to greet him when Saga arrived and he looked like he was about to asked Saga something but then his gaze flew to somewhere behind Saga’s shoulder and he looked more than slightly taken aback.

‘What is it with you and attracting wandering spirits?’ he asked hotly, like he was heavily offended by it.

‘What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything,’ Saga frowned. His heart was still thumping too fast in his chest; he wasn’t in the mood for this.

‘And what makes you think I believe you?’

Is this guy serious? And here I was starting to think he might be an okay enough guy. Saga gritted his teeth. ‘Look, I don’t really care if you believe me or not. I need to see Shou or Uruha about something.’ Why was Tora being ridiculous?

‘Why are you here?’ Tora asked again. Saga’s eyes widened in annoyance.

‘I just told you—’

‘I don’t mean you,’ Tora pointed at seemingly empty air. ‘I’m talking to that kid.’

Saga turned around. ‘What kid?’

His eyes widened as Tora’s words sunk in. ‘You mean I got—’ he gestured vaguely at the air behind his shoulder. The dark haired one nodded.

‘You should come inside,’ he suggested. Saga didn’t need to be told twice.

‘I’ve told you, I meant no harm, and you won’t listen.’

‘It’s not that I wasn’t listening, as I’ve said, I have no reason to believe you.’

‘Ma, ma, Tora-shi, let’s hear the boy out.’ Shou calmed him.

The apparition before them has the physical appearance (if you can call it like that) of a child probably no more than ten years old, but he’s an old soul, this one. (Thanks to the Masato fiasco, Tora has been honing his Eyes again to heighten his sensitivity. He won’t ever mistake a ghost for a human anymore, no matter how stable their energy might be.)

Tora’s bracelet had started burning again at the sight of him and he was in tune enough with it now to know it won’t burn like that over lesser spirits. The clarity in the boy’s eyes also spoke of maturity. He’s been dead for a while, then.

‘About twelve years ago actually. And physically I’m nine and a half.’ The kid said, clearly reading inside Tora head.

Brat. Tora thought sharply.

The kid rolled his eyes. ‘Is this how you treat customers? You’re supposed to grant anybody’s wish, here, right?

‘And?’ Tora prodded. ‘Were you attracted to Saga’s energy too, like so many other spirits?’ at the mention of his name, Saga sat up straighter. Tora almost felt sorry for him now. He said the bracelet’s working and yet the stronger ones are still latching onto him, weakening his aura.

‘Oh I wasn’t trying to steal Saa-chan’s aura, honest.’

‘Saa-chan?’ Tora asked.

‘It’s my childhood nickname,’ Saga answered. ‘Though nobody ever called me that since elementary school.’ A frown appeared again between his delicate brows.

The kid looked at Saga with sad eyes. ‘Yeah. Probably because I was usually the one calling him that.’

Tora brain tried to process that and it came back with something not unlike an ‘error: cannot compute’ message.

With eloquence he asked, ‘Huh??’

The kid’s said his name is Tomoya and that he’s Saga’s childhood friend. That was enough to grow Tora’s distrust, but Shou said he wasn’t lying so he continued to listen.

They’ve just celebrated Saga’s birthday, the younger of the two, when Tomoya got into a nasty accident and was killed in a crash. But he came back to his best friend’s side and Saga remained his friend even after his death.

Or so he said.

‘He could actually See you?’ Tora asked dubiously.

With conviction Tomoya answered ‘He used to saw a lot of things.’

Shou and Tora exchanged glances at that.

‘I think he told people he had an imaginary friend and people thought that was his way of coping with my death. It wasn’t, though, he really could see me. I stayed by his side. Followed him everywhere. Until that summer holiday where his family took him on a trip. When he came back he couldn’t see or hear me. In fact, he just couldn’t See or Sense anything anymore.’

I spent a long time trying to communicate with him again, to no avail. But he’s been coming to this shop now, and I thought this shop out of everything else might help. Especially as his energy level seem to have risen.’

Tora frowned, wondering if the kid wanted Shou to replace Saga’s memory and thinking if it’s at all possible, what kind of price will it worth?

‘You want to be remembered,’ Shou said after staring at the ghost, and it wasn’t a question.

The boy nodded. He spoke of things and places that only the two of them know, that might jolt Saga’s memory, surely? Although how he failed to remember everything back then was more than suspect.

Tora felt it before he saw out of the corner of his eyes Saga’s movement as he silently exited the room. Tora excused himself after a while.

He found the brunet hugging his knees on the wooden terrace facing the courtyard.

He took a seat beside him.

‘You okay?’ Tora asked after a few moment of comfortable silence.

‘I’m… not sure?’ Saga answered slowly. ‘I could only guess what you guys were talking about back there, you know.’

‘If you’re uncomfortable with this you can refuse.’

‘And that kid? Who said he knew me more than I know myself? What’ll happen to him?’ there was deep uncertainty in his eyes, and Tora knew it was not just on behalf of Tomoya.

‘You’re the one who’s alive, Saga. You’re the priority here.’

Saga halted at that.

‘You’re right, but…’

‘Unless you do want to know.’

Saga glanced at him. ‘Do you know how it feels to have holes in your head?’

Tora blinked.

‘Gaps in your brains and things that won’t add up and a lot of questioning your own thoughts, and it physically hurts if you do so? Do you know how that feels?’

Tora looked him straight in the eyes when he said ‘Yeah. I do.’

Saga smiled tightly. ‘I guess you might just, yeah.’ He halted again, like he’s trying to put the best words to voice what’s in his head.

‘Are you afraid of what might the gaps are actually about? What they’re supposed to be filled with?’

‘I’d rather that than the uncertainty.’ He caught his gaze again. ‘But this isn’t about me.

I don’t know how Shou would go about answering the kid’s Want, but ultimately it’s your call.’

‘I don’t get that a lot, you know. Calling the shots.’

‘Get used to it. Once your luck is yours alone, it’ll be the only thing you do.’

Saga smiled at those words.

Which was how Tora found himself having this ridiculous little outer body experience. Well maybe not ‘little’ as his spirit has been out of his body for close to an hour now.

Yes, he’s counting; you got a problem with that?

It was all Shou’s fault, because Tora was about to say ‘hell, no.’ when Tomoya said what he needed was a physical medium to interact with Saga. But the dimension wizard had rationalized with him, how Shou was no longer a viable option for a medium, him being not quite human. And how if Tora gave him the consent, he would be the one controlling the link, as opposed to forced possession, and isn’t it much more preferable that way?

And then Tora had remembered the resolved in Saga’s eyes to face his past, and really. Tora needs to do something with this meddling in other people’s business thing he got going.

So he grumbled and cursed his way through Tomoya seeping in to his body and his own spirit floating out of it.

It never felt nicer no matter if it’s the second, third, fourteenth time around.

The worst thing about surrendering your body as a medium, Tora thought, was actually watching your body functioning without your doing. It’s always hard to see yourself walking and talking, but knowing you’ve got nothing to do with any of those things.

Right then he was watching Tomoya as he took Saga to what appeared to be their old elementary school. It’s after class and the setting sun casted long shadows of trees coming through the classes windows. The air was humid, and still compactly filled with laughter and life from the residue energy of children running their way through these hallways each day.

It’s because of so much intense emotion like this that Tora usually avoids schools and children. Cautious, as he followed Tomoya and Saga walking their way floor per floor, Tora tried to build a bubble of defense. A sudden burst of emotion stopped him. He caught a glimpse of a boy from behind the crack of the door leading to the rooftop. He looked vaguely familiar, but Tora couldn’t figure out how.

Tomoya was still talking in a low voice, pointing at little bits of things here and there, and Saga’s face was open and attentive. Tora knew he wasn’t receiving any enlightenment just yet, but he was trying.

Tomoya finally guided them to the rooftop. Tora looked around for the boy he glimpsed earlier but couldn’t find even the traces of him. Figuring that if it was indeed a ghost he’s got his hands full dealing with one already, Tora refocused his attention on the two figures leaning against the railings.

‘Weird’ is too weak a word to explain looking at Tora’s eyes and knowing he wasn’t really looking at Tora, but Saga had to get used to it at least for the day. He somehow knew this alien boy called Tomoya would take him to the old school. He didn’t know what it was that he himself expected out of it, but there was a part of him that kind of holding his breath for a glimpse of understanding, for something to somehow slot into place.

Tomoya was talking to him in a low voice, like he’s retelling stories he treasured more than anything, stories of the two of them as he pointed at this place and that, a reverence in his eyes as he looked at them.

Saga felt that it was somehow unfair that he couldn’t see them and talk of them in the same way. He tried to look pass the depth of Tora’s eyes to see the boy who apparently had a huge presence in the part of his life that he knew very little of, and there’s something there. There were something in the lilt of his voice as he speaks, the relax way of which he smiles that were different from Tora’s, that made him think he might fit.

Tomoya was retelling him how they used to get in trouble with the Biology teacher, an assuredness in his tone as he retold the stories that Saga envied, and that was when it came into him he might fit with the void. He might make the whole thing add up nicely.

Saga wasn’t about to ponder how much of it was because Tomoya had convinced him and how much of it was of his own desperation for clarity.

When they came to the last place on the rooftop and Saga hadn’t been overcome with enlightenment after all, he wasn’t sure who was more disappointed; Tomoya who could see the void in his eyes or himself who could still feel it.

‘We’d sneak up here after school just to nap under the sun like cats,’ Tomoya said but it’s more like he’s saying it to himself now, rather than to help jolt his friend’s memory.

‘I’m sorry,’

Tomoya turned at him at that. ‘There is something in you after all, Saa-chan. Now that I’m using these eyes I can see it, it’s like a shield keeping you away from all this.’ His eyes looked too sad as cool fingers that didn’t belong to him reach out to hold his friend’s face. Saga shivered at the contact, but he let the boy pulled him closer as he rested their brows together. ‘What happened to you that summer?’

Saga wished he knew the answer to that, he wished he knew how to make this spirit of a child shivering like that at his first contact with early evening’s wind in a long time.

He felt strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer still.

Tora’s eyes widened almost comically at the sight in front of him, of the (sneaky bastard of a) ghost still in his body wrapping his arms around Saga.

‘Okay, that’s it. Ride’s over.’ Tora mumbled under his breath, feeling vaguely unclean, as he took back the control of his body.

Which meant he was then the one with arms around Saga.

Jolted with the realization, Tora quickly pulled away. Saga’s eyes flew to up to his, startled as he was. Tora broke the eye contact to glare at Tomoya, who was now already hovering slightly overhead. The kid actually shrugged as if it was nothing.

‘We’re coming back to the shop,’ Tora said with finality.

Let Shou deal with this.

It was his idea anyway.

Tora dumped two fistful of purifying salt into the bath water and had started scrubbing even before he rested his behind on the wooden bath. Being a medium always left him with an uncomfortable feeling like his skin wasn’t put on the right way, and the residues of alien energy inside of him were like grime he’d take a while to scrub off.

He almost voiced out an unbecoming yelp when Tomoya walk through the wall to stand beside the tub.

‘Damnit, kid!’ he yelled, still trying to calm his heartbeat. ‘Do you really want me dead, or something?’

Tomoya actually looked sheepish. ‘Sorry, I was actually here to thank you about today,’

He glared at the kid at that. He still couldn’t get the image of Saga in his arms from earlier.

‘You’re angry about the hug,’ Tomoya said. ‘We did that a lot though, when we were kids,’

That’s a completely different matter than this, though, his brain wasn’t about to let it slide, apparently.

‘I don’t get why you’re so upset. I thought you of all people would be okay with that. I looked—’

‘Kid, I thought you’re here to thank me. You did that, now can I at least bathe in peace?’ Tora cut him off.

‘Sorry,’ the kid mumbled. ‘It just that I might need your help again for tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘We’re going to Nara.’

Shou always said he couldn’t ever let go of a customer without their Want being granted in some way, unless they’ve the kind of Want that shouldn’t be granted. And Tora knew it was probably that line of thinking that made him said, they should this whole thing one more time.

‘This whole thing’ of course, being Tomoya’s Want and this time it actually requires them to go to Nara.

He has his suspicions, the boy had whispered, of Saga’s family’s trip there when he was little. If nothing else worked here, and clearly from the blockage of his energy that even the shop still couldn’t plow through that was the case, he felt that the answer lies in Nara.

Tora is always uneasy about Nara. He wasn’t even convinced the trip would work, but he asked under his breath at Saga who was sitting beside him if he’s still up for it, if this was in anyway still something he’d go through with. Saga had answered back with a nod and clear certainty in his eyes.

Tora has a problem saying no to that.

The most uneasy thing for Saga concerning Nara was that he has absolutely no recollection of the place. The JR Line they took from Kyoto to Nara itself, Saga spent it staring out the window, trying to find familiar scenery in unfamiliar rows of buildings and serpentine spines of mountain ranges. Anything at all will do.

Nothing registered in his mind, though. And Tomoya seemed to think that’s a good sign they’re on the track. At least that’s what Tora relayed to him. The four hours journey Tora had spent mostly in silent, brooding.

Shou said Nara reminded Tora a lot of his late grandfather and that he hasn’t been back here since his death. Saga could understand why he’s apprehensive, but his nervousness was contagious, leaking off of him like his defense barrier. It didn’t ebbed one bit as they stepped out of the train.

‘So.’ Tora started, and Saga knew he wasn’t talking to him. ‘You said something about a shrine? There are millions of them in Nara. Pick one.’

He seemed to be listening to whatever it was Tomoya was saying then, and then he closed his eyes. He’s been doing that a lot, Saga noticed. He’s receiving a projected thought, that was the only thing Saga understood of it.

So it took him completely by surprise when Tora’s suddenly slumped onto the ground, his face ashen with his hands cradling his head.

Saga crouched beside him. ‘Tora? What’s wrong?’ he seemed to be in pain, but Saga couldn’t see what could possibly hurt him. It was a few minutes later when color finally returned to Tora’s face and, breathing still elaborate, he struggled to stand up. Saga frowned at him. ‘You wanna look for a place to rest?’

‘It’s okay. Let’s get this over with.’ Was what Tora replied, and there’s hardness in the glint of his eyes that Saga never saw before.

He was already walking forward before Saga could ask if he’s sure.

‘Wait. You know where you’re going?’

‘Yeah. For once.’

They took a bus closer to the mountain range where the trees grew denser and denser. Saga was still glancing at him every now and then. Tora knew he made him worry, but he was still fighting with the remainder of the image Tomoya had put in his head. Hell, he knew he was making even the ghost worry with how his body had reacted to it.

The image was something Tomoya had extracted out of the gaps in Saga’s mind as he used Tora’s body yesterday. Any other time, Tora would’ve exorcist the hell out of such violation, but he’s forced to shelf that thought for now.

They were nearing their destination. Tora could actually smell the sweetness in the air that a hidden part of his brain associated with this place. They stopped at the bus stop and had to hike for a sometime to enter the hill further. If Tora tried to map the place I his mind, he could feel the headache from before peeking its head again, so he tried not to think about it too much. The spirit he has running through his veins still remember this place like the back of its hand, and that’s more than good enough for Tora.

Low-hanging branches seemed to stoop lower to take better look at him. He could already glimpses of eerily shimmering things fluttering through the canopy. Something beside his ear whispered,

‘Welcome home, little one,’

Tora let his first smile that day grazed his face. He’s still terribly frightened of what’s in front of him, but the fay’s right.

This was home.

He stopped at the foot of a long series of stone steps leading to the peak of the hill.

‘This is where we’re going,’ he pointed at Saga, and Tomoya also nodded in acknowledgement. He knew this was the right place.

He guided them, steps after nerve-wrecking steps, towards the place at the top of that flight of stairs. Slowly, a temple came into view. Tora let out a breath he didn’t realized he was holding at the way everything stayed the same.

Except for the absence of his grandfather. He closed his eyes at the pain that thought evoked and swallowed the sadness he could feel bubbling up.

This isn’t about him.

He looked up and caught Saga’s eyes. ‘This is it.’

The brunet nodded at that. His breathing was a bit shallow, and a frown appeared on his face. If Tora’s suspicion was true, this won’t be a pleasant trip for Saga to endure. And with the instability of his core energy, Tora was certain it won’t be a good thing. He needed to make sure of something first before they jumped into anything rash.

‘Can you guys stay here, the both of you? I have to make sure of something.’

Saga nodded uncertainly, and Tora told him to stay on the edge of the courtyard if he’s unsure of entering further just yet.

He let his legs followed a track his mind wasn’t familiar with, but his mind wasn’t a good compass for this particular thing. Not when the traces of his granddad’s energy was still strong here.

He stared in relief at the familiar cedar tree he remembered from his buried memories still standing proud at the ford of the mountain stream. When he looked up at one of the higher branches, his eyes met that of the Karasu-tengu.

‘You sure took a long time to come back, little priest.’

It was amazing how much that voiced still sounded so familiar in his ears after all this time.

‘You didn’t even come back when the old man died.’

Tora’s face fell. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Wasn’t your fault, was it? The old man made you forget.’ The tengu crept down closer to him. ‘You forgot this place and each and every one of us’ his claw-like hands gestured to his surrounding before he placed it on top of Tora’s heart. ‘And even a part of yourself.’

Just like he did to that delectable little friend of yours.’

Tora’s eyes flew to the tengu’s again. ‘Saga?’

‘Uh-huh. That is some sweet-smelling blood he got there. He’s a child not unlike yourself, after all. But the old man put a spell on him too.’

‘So that’s true? I’d wondered, but—’

‘My dear little priest, you saw him yourself, don’t you remember?’ the tengu asked, and from the complete blackness in his eyes Tora saw the image of a little boy doubling over in tears at the temple’s garden.

The curve of his trembling as he held back tears looked familiar, and Tora knew why as he saw the image of his own younger self walking closer towards the boy.

‘He was trying to protect you, but his method is poor,’ the tengu sneered. Tora snapped his eyes back towards his face. The tengu held up his two hands ‘Pardon my tongue, little one, but it’s true. Sealing your Self would never lead to anything good.

Ah. See. It might not lead to a good thing for your friend too,’ he said, pointing at something in the direction of the temple. ‘Bringing him so close to the energy source of his Seal might not be a good idea,’

Tora’s eyes widened.

‘Go, little one.’ He pointed again, and Tora didn’t need to be told twice.

Saga wasn’t really trying to ignore what Tora had said when he told him to stay put, but he felt compelled to move further inside the courtyard after all.

The air was silent, but Saga could almost feel the undercurrent of energy flowing through the building, inside and out. His feet took him closer and closer still until he was standing in front of the opening to the inner chamber. Prayer bells that looked as old as the forest itself hung from the door’s framework. Almost by their own accord, his fingers rose up and touched them.

As soon as he did so, he could feel a sudden burst of energy propelling his body away. He closed his eyes from the impact as everything went dark.

What came after that was all a blur to Saga. He was breaking down with fever, that was the only thing he was aware of. He couldn’t hear Tora’s worried voice, nor the commotion as his body was moved and placed in a room.

Nothing of the physical world held any relevance to Saga’s mind at the time. He seemed to be floating in void, not knowing where’s up or down. When he regained his bearing, he was exactly where he was that afternoon, in front of the exact same temple, surrounding but the exact same forest.

Except everything was colored in washed-out hues and a flimsy sheen of something alien seemed to be covering every surface.

‘Welcome back, child,’ a voice said, and when Saga turned around to look for the source, he was startled with what he saw.

‘…Tora?’ he asked, uncertain.

But no, no, he was wrong. This wasn’t Tora. The man wearing a priest’s robe currently looking at him with kind eyes looked every bit like the Tora he knew, but something in his stance, in the set of his shoulders, said he wasn’t really looking at Tora.

He then smiled, showing a dimple on his left cheek, and Saga knew he wasn’t the same person.

‘You know my grandchild,’ he said, pointing at the bracelet circling Saga’s wrist. Saga looked at it. It was the only thing in this place not covered with the thin layer coating.

‘I— yeah. You’re Tora’s grandfather?’

The man nodded. ‘Yes, the one that owes you an apology.’ His smile turned sad at that, as he walked closer towards Saga.

‘Apology, for wh—’ Saga couldn’t finish his question though, because the priest had covered his eyes with a warm palm and Saga could feel his body starting to shake.

He’s filling him. Every crevice, every void and gaps that weren’t supposed to exist, he’s filling them up until everything, everything adds up.

An image of the dark-haired boy that held his hand and brought him inside the temple.

His mother’s slightly damp eyes as she whispered, again and again, ‘we’ll fix you, dear, we’ll fix you’ as his younger self came to her, frightened by something in the dark again.

Tomoya’s face as he appeared in front of him and for the first time Saga thought he didn’t mind being able to see things people don’t.

The man removed his palm from Saga’s eyes and the brunet went falling onto the floor, gasping for breath.

Saga felt gentle arms stroking his back, calming him as his breath returned to normal. ‘That couldn’t be pleasant, forgive me child,’

‘It—’ another gasp for breath ‘wasn’t your fault, wasn’t it,’ he said as he remembered the steely resolve in his mother’s eyes.

‘It still wasn’t a decision anybody should made for you. Your Sight was as much a part of you, as it was Tora’s.’

‘He also…’

‘I Sealed his Sight, too, but his body repelled it after some time, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Him being Sightless was not written anywhere in his fate.’ The man’s deep eyes caught his gaze. ‘Nor was it ever written in yours. No matter how much it brings forth fear.’

Saga shook his head. ‘I don’t really mind it. I had a friend once, and I didn’t lose because I could See, and—’

‘And now that you’ve remembered him, he can finally continue on his way’

The priest seemed to sense how the thought of it still weighted on Saga when he pulled him into his arms. He smelled of some of the incense that Uruha would burn in the shop, and it calmed the brunet as he inhaled deeply. ‘That is the only way he could reach contentment, dear child. A different one would lead you to yours, just like Tora’s Want would lead him to his.’

Saga pulled back to look at the man at that. ‘What is Tora’s Want?’

The priest smiled at that. ‘Something he thought he lost. Something he thought he couldn’t have. But he’s wrong on both counts.’

Saga was still pondering those words when he could feel the man nudging his conscious awake.

‘Time to go back,’ he whispered. ‘Send my regard to the dimension wizard for taking care of my grandson,’

In an instant Saga could feel himself being pulled away, back into the physical world.

The first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was the concerned eyes of Tomoya.

Saga smiled at the familiarity of looking at him again, and the ghost, sensing the recognition, smile the widest smile Saga had ever seen.

‘You remembered,’ he laughed.

Saga was just starting to laugh back when he realized how the edges of Tomoya’s apparition started to waver. Tomoya looked at his disappearing spirit, still with a smile. ‘I got my Want.’

‘Yeah.’ Saga whispered. ‘I guess you did.’

The boy wrapped his evaporating arms around Saga’s neck. And once more before he left completely, Saga could hear him saying ‘bye,’

He remained motionless on the bed for a long time after that.

Tora stepped inside the room sometime after that. He was holding something in his hand, its whiteness stark against the darkening sky outside the window.

Seeing that Saga was awake, he walked closer. ‘The priests here asked if you wanted something to eat,’

It was those words coming out of Tora’s eyes that made Saga blinked. He looked around the room and the bed he was lying in. When he looked back up at Tora, the question in his eyes must’ve been obvious, because he quickly answered.

‘We’re in the lodging inside the temple, the priests brought you here when you collapsed.’ Tora scratched the back of his head. ‘My granddad used to head this temple, so—’

‘I’ve met your grandfather.’

Tora halted.

‘I’ve remembered everything now.’ He continued, looking straight at Tora’s eyes.

Saga folded his legs under the sheets as Tora sat down at the foot of the bed. ‘No more gaps, right?’

The brunet shook his head. ‘No more gaps. Except…’ he looked down. ‘Except for the part where Tomoya used to be.’

‘Yeah, I felt him leave. He gave me this though, to give to Shou,’ Tora dangled the thing that was on his hand; a small pouch, with bright yellow sunflower printed at the front.

That brought a smile on Saga’s face, the fact that Tomoya still had them. ‘That is…’

‘His most treasured thing. Payment for his Want.’ Tora carefully reached out and ran a hand through Saga’s hair. ‘He was happy when he left, you know that right?’

Saga nodded. ‘Yeah. I do.’

‘If you’re feeling better, we’re leaving in the morning. Apparently Uruha is getting worried. How’s that sound?’

‘That sounds great.’ He said as he leaned into the comfort of Tora’s fingers. ‘I wanna hurry home too.’

‘We’ll be home before you know it.’ Tora was smiling as he said it. It was a good look on him.

‘Then maybe’ he smirked. ‘Maybe, we can start getting some improvement out of your pathetic, pathetic spiritual defense.’ As he said so his fingers turned from stroking Saga’s hair to ruffling it.

Saga smacked his hand off of him, muttering how once they’re home he’ll start practicing so hard, and he’ll be so good at it that Tora would come begging to him for protection.

‘Just wait till we get home,’ Saga threatened.

Tora chuckled at that.

Stop.