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They were dying. Collapsing, wilting, imploding– the flimsy infrastructure of their soul warped and bent and snapped– the splinters making themselves at home in their skin.
Both figuratively and literally.
It felt like Kyuusaku’s body was being impaled by splinters both inside and out. Could it be possible that the blond man’s trees wormed their way into their flesh, their very being? If so, how long would it be until the prickly greenery sliced from the inside, how long until they met the lacerations made by metal? That was poetic, wasn’t it? Kyuusaku Yumeno, enemy of things both natural and man-made. Mother Nature saw no place for them in her iridescent world, and the Big Men in charge were afraid of the threat they posed to their empires. An enemy of both– one that was made to accept her creations, and one that would tolerate those who helped them create. Kyuusaku was an outcast to both of them.
Or maybe it really wasn’t as poetic as they imagined. What would Kyuu know about poetry? Fuck all, that’s what.
Kyuu trudged through the streets. They knew where they were going. But was it the right choice?
Yokohama was quiet. Kyuu didn’t like when it was quiet. Quiet was absent. Quiet was nothing. Quiet was order. Kyuu didn’t like order. They favoured the chaos of noise, the movement of noise, the distraction of noise. Noise could drive one's thoughts away as it demanded your attention, your undivided attention, in order to keep the flames of disorder at bay. Kyuu liked attention. Even the bad kind. Perhaps they really were as disordered as the situations that they bring with them wherever they go.
Kyuu knew who they were hoping to find. They turned the corner, and staggered up the street.
Was there a reason as to why the quiet bothered them so? Maybe. Probably. If you were to ask them to make an educated guess, they wouldn’t be able to tell you shit. What education did they have? What have they been taught– how to read, the geography of Japan or maybe even history? No, no, they became history. With the guidance of a tyrant who came bearing sharp metals that he used to hone Kyuu into a weapon for his arsenal. Not a prized one, not a shiny new toy which is deemed too precious to be taken out of the packaging. Kyuu was a grenade– mass produced, expendable, rough around the edges. Unruly, unhinged– once they’re turned on they cannot be turned off. Thrown into battle, its only aim is to take out the enemies in its path, even if it must sacrifice itself for the sake of ‘good’. Kyuu received no education, nor were they passed on the art of war. They were taught to sit tight and behave, until it was deemed acceptable for the muzzle to come off and the bars to come off their door. Even if it took years.
The sun was setting. The light was fading into darkness. Kyuu hoped that they’d get there in time. She lived in the light now, and light was fleeting. Kyuu needed to find her before the light disappeared.
Perhaps the nail in the coffin was loneliness. The quiet was bad enough, but that was bearable. They could fill the emptiness with chirps and rants of their own making. Though that was the auditory emptiness. Nothing could fill its physical equivalent. There were many words that could describe Mori Ougai, and none of them was ‘generous’. However, the space that he gave them to live in was. The Basement of the Port Mafia’s main building was split into three main sections– the Main Area, containing the panic room and storage, the Blond Man’s training area and Kyuu’s damp little corner that housed the boiler. Kyuu retreated into the store room whenever someone came for a repair. They never saw anyone. Their damp corner that choked them with stale air did allow for hallucinations, sometimes.
Kyuu saw nothing but hallucinations.
Until her.
It was getting dark. Kyuu prayed that it was just their vision going. They’d see her. They knew where she was, it was just a matter of getting there. It’s been hours since they left there. Since Mr Chuuya exploded into a sizzling red light and the splinters of victimised trees joined the splinters of those that victimised Kyuu on their skin. No matter how much it hurt, they’d keep going. They had to.
For the light.
Kyuu first saw her on the eve of their eleventh birthday. She was twelve. It was a cold winter night, just three days into the new year, and the heat was off throughout the building. Kyuu knew that because the boiler wasn’t giving them any heat, as it usually would during tough times. Kyuu remembers pretending to sleep, until a key turned in the basement door. They looked up, and there stood a girl with the appearance of an underfed rabbit. They winced as bright light spilled inside, and waited for their eyes to adjust.
The girl stood, shaking, with a small blade in her hand.
“What’s wrong with you?!” Kyuu spat– their voice hoarse– attempting to match the venom that Mr Dazai used. “What do you want?”
The girl clutched the blade in both hands. “They locked me in.” She whispered. “I can’t get out.”
Kyuu blinked, their bared teeth retreating back into their mouth. “Locked in?” They repeated, their face breaking out into a smile. “Ooh, join the club!” They cheered, bouncing to their feet.
What a great early birthday present indeed! A friend to fill the silence, another poor soul doomed to never see the light again!
Kyuu skipped over to the girl and clasped their hands around hers. “Oh, let me help you! This’ll be so fun!”
They dragged her over to their worn futon, pushing her down by her shoulders.
“I only have one of these, but they’ll probably bring ya one of your own soon enough if we’re good! We can share for tonight! I’ll have to put Magra on the floor, but I’m sure she’ll understand! How old are you? I’m ten! You look twelve. Did you know I’m eleven tomorrow–” Kyuu spoke rapidly, yapping about this and that, and the girl listened. It was nice. Kyuu felt less empty.
Kyuu plopped down next to her. “What’s your name? I’m Kyuu!”
“...Kyouka.”
Kyuu leaned on their new friend. Kyouka.
“Kyouka, you remind me of a baby bunny.”
Kyouka smiled. Not with her mouth, but Kyuu could tell that she was smiling. They could see it in her eyes.
She picked at the frayed edge of the futon. “You… you remind me of a little kitten I had back home.”
Kyuu smiled with their mouth.
Kyuu and their new friend spent all night talking. About animals, about games, about books Kyouka read, about why she was down there. She said she was sent down to train with the Blond Man. She said that she was kept late and the main door was locked. Kyuu said that she was just like them now, trapped. They were just kind enough to let her figure it out for herself. Kyuu said that they would look after her, help her get used to life down under. Kyuu said that they were glad to have a friend. Kyouka smiled, with her eyes again, and set the blade down beside the futon. Kyouka leaned against Kyuu’s shoulder. Kyuu said that they loved her. They could be sibling and sister. Kyouka said that she was an only child. What did siblings do? Kyuu said they didn’t know, but they should be together forever and ever. Kyouka agreed.
The two drifted off to sleep sitting up, leaning on each other’s heads.
Kyuu woke up, age eleven, with their sister taken from them.
For the next two years, Kyuu clung to the memory of Kyouka in the doorway, and the light that she brought with her.
By the time Kyuu reached the building, the sun had set. It was dark outside. They had finally reached their destination, but the doors were locked. Their bones ached and skin leaked and their heart shattered into a million pieces. They failed.
But what were the odds that Kyouka would have even remembered them anyway?
They spent one night together in Kyuu’s hovel, and never met again.
Kyuu just knew that their sister moved to the light.
Kyuu knew that Kyouka hated her ability, much like they did.
Could Kyuu follow her? Could Kyuu escape the hatred, the pain, the loneliness and the quiet? Could Kyuu have a family? Could Kyuu live in the light?
Would Kyuu ever see her again.
Kyuu knocked on the door. Thud, thud, thud.
And a lock turned
The door swung open
And bathed in warm light
Was Kyouka
Kyuu’s sister.
“I need your help.”
Kyouka smiled. With her mouth this time. Her eyes were too busy growing wet.
“I think we have two futons this time.”
And Kyuu collapsed into their sister’s arms.