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Ryoji knew he had a burden to bear. The entrapment of a boy who never wished for it. Who gave up his existence to seal away Nyx, to seal away death itself.
He loved that boy…his softness…his soul. If he could, Ryoji would pull him off the door and bridal carry him into a life of bliss. But he couldn't. Makoto was doing far more than he could imagine.
Yet…in a roundabout way…maybe he could make it up.
He never asked for Makoto to be brought back. He honestly never thought it was a possibility. Yet, on a moonlit night, with petals still falling from the trees, he watched it happen. The mother opening her body up. Exposing the tangles of wires and machinery Ryoji couldn't begin to understand. And from those mechanical organs she produced a living, breathing child. Still connected to her by a cable. There was no pain in her body, like that faced by a human mother. Just pure adoration for her newborn.
Aigis, the same machine who had sealed him away inside Makotos heart, had brought life into the world. Birthing a child who was in every conceivable way, a clone of Makoto Yuki. Ryoji felt as if he was intruding on something sacred. And who could blame him? The resurrected blood of a dead hero, birthed from a war machine. It was nothing short of holy.
His last memories of Makoto was his sacrifice, the image of him nailed to the door of death. Now, a child with his DNA calmly sat in his mothers arms. His mind warm with love, his tummy full of milk, and his skin wrapped in soft cloth.
And in this amazement, Ryoji felt he had a second chance. This infant, christened Mitsuo by his mother, wouldn't have the responsibilities of a messia. No evil to fight, no war to win, and a mother far more resilient than a human.
Ryoji would look after him from the shadows. A guardian angel of the midnight hour.
(Well not really, the midnight hour was long gone, but that didn't mean Ryoji couldn't add an extra hour of the day just for him to visit Mitsuo. He had more abilities than one would think.)
Time had gone by since that night. Mitsuo was six years old now, a vibrant and healthy child who loved going to school and exploring the city around him. Who, despite his shyness, was kind to even the littlest of creatures. A boy that got cornered into an alleyway by stray cats because they loved snuggling with him. A boy with a pure heart, and boundless love. So close to what Makoto used to be…
Ryoji had things to do in the world, things outside the understanding of even wildcards. So his visits weren’t an everyday occurrence. But every full moon he’d make sure to pay Mitsuo a little visit.
This night was no exception. A summer rain had just blown by, leaving droplets hanging from the sill and a subtle gloss on the leaves. Ryoji descended down from the dark skies and perched atop the great pine tree closest to the building. Slowly, he made his way down the branches and to the boys window. Once the so-called midnight hour had ticked, he knocked on the windowpane.
Mitsuo was slow to wake up, but seeing the familiar yellow scarf glowing in the moonlight, he leapt from his bed and flung open the window. Looking like he was about to jump straight into his arms.
“Ryoji!!” Mitsuo jumped up and down “yay ya yay!!!”
The boy couldn't help but laugh “Tch, I can tell. How’s my little buddy been lately?”
“Awesome! Mama and auntie Labby took me to the museum in the city and we saw the whole thing and it was awesome!! We got to see some cool old cars too, Mama told me all about them, they had cars from America and England too!”
Ryoji listened as the kid regaled every bit of his life since their last playdate. All while spinning around his room and waving his hands excitedly. Moments like this truly reminded Ryoji of how different Mitsuo was. How different he’d always be. Makoto was only a bit younger than him when his parents died on the bridge. When death itself was sealed within him. Mitsuo didn't have any of that on his mind. All that mattered was the stories he told.
“What do you wanna play Ryoji? Mama got me a new box of blocks!”
“Building blocks would be wonderful, I can’t remember the last time we played with those.”
Mitsuo dumped out a plastic box of blocks. Mixed in with a few toy dinosaurs and other trinkets.
“I was gonna build a spaceship but mama said it’s too late” he huffed, holding up the half-completed engine of some make-believe vessel “but now I get to finish it with you!”
“I think I’ll do the same…maybe I could build a creature for your spaceship to encounter!”
Ryoji began putting blocks together, seeing what sorts of shapes they’d create. A long brick here, some tiles there, began to form a strange alien bird. Mitsuo was building some kind of triangle shaped fighter ship, built from a dozen different colors of blocks.
Ryoji began to mull through his recent memories, trying to find an interesting story or two the boy might like. But it seemed Mitu had other things in mind.
“Hey Ryoji? Did you used to know my dad?”
He paused. His blocky bird almost falling to the floor.
“…your father?”
“Mama told me why he’s not around. He died fighting something. Thats why I only have mama.” Mitu looked to the floor, cyan eyes swirling with something unknown. A truth deeper than he could understand “you’re older than me right? Did you know him?”
Ryoji was a truthful man. Yet, the idea of looking a child in the eyes and telling him the truth, that he killed the boy’s father…
A little white lie couldn't hurt.
“Yes! Your father and I were great friends.”
The look on the boys face was priceless. Big sparkling eyes looking up at him with absolute awe.
“You knew him!! Were you friends!! Did you do cool things!! What did he like? Did he like animals? Did he-“
“Woah woah woah, you’re talking a mile a minute, I’ll explain everything kiddo.”
Ryoji took a moment to steady himself. Sitting against the bed as he twirled the end of the scarf between his fingers.
“Your father was the kindest, gentlest soul I have ever known. He was quiet, not exactly the chatty type. But more than anything he cared for people…” Ryoji felt as if his mouth was going faster than his brain, fact blurring into fiction as he spoke just to make the boy happy. Everything he said was spoken from his heart, yet the omission spoke the loudest. The truth…
“Your father died before you were born. But I just know he would have loved you” Ryoji tried to keep himself from crying “after all, you’re practically a little copy of him.”
The “practically” was doing a lot of heavy lifting.
“Did he look like me? Mama said I have her eyes but my papas hair.”
Ryoji chuckled “oh you look just like him dear. I know if your father was alive, he’d be so proud of you.”
“Really??” The boys eyes widened “he’d be proud of me?”
“I’ve always kept an eye on you since you were real little, I’ve seen how kind you are to everyone, how understanding you are, how you appreciate life itself, those are all things your father valued.”
The boys visage turned from wide eyed joy, to a more quiet worry or sadness. Turning away from Ryoji and towards his own toys.
“I’m sad I never got to meet him…I love my mama but I wish I had a papa too.”
“I understand your grief. I don’t blame you for thinking that way” Ryoji looked off through the window, off into the dark night “but you should be happy for what you have…you have a mother who takes care of you and a family that cares for you. That is something you should treasure.”
The boy nodded. Wiping tears from his eyes.
“H-hey Ryoji?”
“Yea?”
“You said you’re from a magic place right? You can do things others can’t?” Mitsuo folded his knees to his chest, curling up on himself “c-can you tell my dad something?”
Ryoji nodded.
He twiddled his fingers “c-can you tell my dad that I miss him? That mama and aunt ‘Kari and Mitsuru and everybody miss him too? That I’m trying real real hard to be strong like him…I wanna do good for people, I wanna be like him.”
The boys voice faded out. Turning to silence as Ryoji brushed his hair with the palm of his hand. Looking into his eyes, the same deep blue as his fathers once were.
“I will buddy, I’ve got to go now, but I promise I’ll tell him as soon as I reach him” Ryoji picked him up “but before then, I’ve got to get you to bed.”
The shadow-spirit tucked the boy back into bed. Pulling the covers over him, fetching his dear little sheep plushie, and waving goodnight. Climbing up to his windowsill, Ryoji looked back one last time before he leapt. Floating mid-air as if he had wings. With his yellow scarf trailing behind him, Ryoji disappeared into the night. Into the vastness little Mitu couldn't begin to understand.
Ryoji made good on his promise.
He was a frequent visitor to the sea of souls, to the gates which sealed Nyx, all because of dear Makoto Yuki. His lifeless form still draped over the door. Locked in perpetuity. Each time he visited Mitu, then Makoto, their similarities only grew stronger and stronger. Ryoji would imagine poor Mitu nailed to the door like his father and sob, yet today he cried for a different reason. Sitting in front of the gate as if In prayer, he spoke to the messianic figure.
“…your son is trying to become like you. He wishes to be strong, brave, kind, all things you were. I hope you know he is excelling at all those things..”
Ryoji wiped tears from his eyes.
“if one day, you can reunite with him, you will see what I mean. You should be so proud…I will do what I can in the meantime. I shall care for him to the best of my abilities, I shall love h-him…”
He choked up. Trying to stifle his crying.
“-I-i shall love him like I have loved you.”