Chapter Text
Equilibrium; A state of balance brought about through opposing forces...
Peace brings about the need for violence and Violence brings about the need for peace. Why does it always work like that?
Why is the world always fighting towards this unachievable equilibrium.
Today on X News, new developments have come about in the western armed conflict between—
“Everyday its a new one, isn’t it?” an unfamiliar voice is heard.
I turn my head in annoyance. It had already been a long day at the Dojo.“I don’t wanna talk about this right now.”
“Isn’t it interesting how there is always war, in this world that’s claiming to be at peace?” he looks at me with cunning eyes and a smirk. Just who the hell is this annoying little bastard ruining my perfectly good night. Doesn’t he see how fuckin' busy I am here?
“Giving the silent treatment, I see how it is, hmmm...” I hear him mutter.
I know he is trying to provoke me but I won’t let him—
“How rude...”
“That’s it you little prick, what the hell are you tryna provoke me for?” and now HE’S giving me the silent treatment.
I see to the fact that this man is not going to shut-up. I chug my remaining sip hoping to continue the rest of it back at the Dojo. I pick my coat up and as I’m getting ready to leave—
“I’m sorry~”
I can hear that he is NOT sorry, “I was just starting to know you~!”, his smirk grows and then he gets up. What pretentious appearance! “Well, that’s too bad, I guess we can have a chat tomorrow!” he says in a cheeky tone while flipping his hair.
I begrudgingly say, “You won’t be seeing me tomorrow.”
What a horrible way to end my exhausting day. It must be because my hat’s still to be laundered. Uhgg, I never wanna see that prick again. Annoying bastards always get on my nerves. Though with this one, I do wonder what the hell was up with those arms of his. Which idiots wraps an injury like that? ¥580 and 40 minutes of my precious night’s times wasted for a sly smug. Even Just thinking about it makes me wanna—
Let’s stop thinking about it now.
trk trk trk trk... 40 minutes pass by
Pissed off, I make my way home.
At night, the Dojo is always very peaceful. Ane-san always makes it a huge deal to keep everything neat and clean; especially the front and side garden. She never yells but my god, can she be horrifically terrifying. I wouldn’t dare to curse her out, even in my thoughts.
My bastardly encounters had made me arrive home early, I didn’t even get the chance to make it till midnight.
“ただいま.” I take my shoes and my coat off. “Ane-san, I’m back.”
I get no reply. The Dojo is in complete silence. Shockingly the gekan is empty, too? As my eyes gain vision, I see that only my shoes are parked. It’s barely 11, where the hell is everyone? I am still questioning the situation when I hear something from upstairs—
“What the hell was that sound? A door crashing?” I’m not so concerned; this is a Dojo after all. We all know how to fight but it’s the nighttime and even the little one’s shoes are not here.
“Kyou—” I call out concerningly.
“Chuuya-kun, you’re back early!” She sneaks from the behind.
“Kyouka-chan!” I pat her on the head, “Where were you? And why’re you so outta breath?”
“Oh, I was running around the garden!”
“I was just in the garden. No one was there—”
“Come come! I have something to show you!!”
I barely get any time to process what had just happened before as I get pulled towards the first floor. She grasps my hand tightly, something I’m not always very open to. We speed upstairs. I’m rushed into her room and suddenly made to sit down? She seems excited though she isn’t usually this energetic, and definitely not like this and,
“Hey, where is Ane-san?” I get no response. I guess she didn’t hear me. She’s busy shuffling around her drawer for somethin’.
“There a festival in downtown tomorrow” she says from within the drawer.
“Uh-huh, and I’m gonna assume you want me to wear this?”, I point to the belt she had just pulled out. “With that crimson yukata on your back” her excited finger points to my back. “You know I’m not interested in traditional wear—”
“But Chuuya-kunnnnn... pleaseeeeee!” she’s slyly pleading. She knows I’m weak against her psychological attacks. “Chuuuyaaaaaaa-kuuunnnnnn”
“Okay okay, I’ll wear it.”
“Can I make your hair too, plea—”, she’s giving me puppy-eyes.
“What’s the point of even asking when y’know I won’t say no.”
This stealthy little punk.
The Dojo is quiet, something only possible on the weekends. It’s my turn today, to make breakfast. Ane-san and I rotate to cook, but she won’t be back from her ‘meeting’ until tomorrow. The kiddo finally got to tell me after her excitement toned down a bit.
Nonetheless of if Ane-san is here or not, I still need to cook enough food to feed least four people. Kyouka may be just 12-years-old but she has the soul of professional adult athlete. Some people see this as odd but I find her happily eating her meal, quite endearing.
“Chuuya-kun, get up!” she says as she drags me her room. I feel the fear wash over me as we inch further and further away from the dining table; less of what she’s about to do me, but more of the fact that we left the dishes unwashed. If Ane-san had been home, we would have gotten a lecture about not tidying-up after ourselves and how unbecoming it is.
We sit down in her soft room as her small, but rough hands comb through my hair. I’m used to this passing activity of hers, except this time... ribbons are involved?! I guess what-ever makes her happy. It seems that she just wanted us to match. She ties my hair up with red and ties her own with purple.
“Chuuya-kun, you look so pretty.” She says as we both face the mirror. She smiles jollily as my face slowly grows flush.
“Yeah yeah, what-ever. You should start dressing up now.”
“I’m so excited Chuuya-kun”
“Me too” I say as I gently pat her head as to not ruin her hairstyle.
I leave to wear the yukata, something I hadn’t worn in 3 years. Hence, my tied obi doesn’t look the best.
We get to the festival early and... its jammed packed?! Shit. I fuckin’ hate crowded places. Its 11 o’clock in the GODDAMN morning. The fuckin’ Japanese! Do ya gotta be punctual to fuck-ass festival too?! ‘This is just minor inconvenience’ is what I’ll tell myself to survive the day.
“Chuuya-kun, they are selling crepes there!” She tugs on my Yukata impatiently. We start heading its direction. I mean we were until—
“Oh my~ how pretty!” an annoyingly familiar voice appears from behind. It rings in my ear like a metal grater would. It’s that bastard from yesterday. “How lovely seeing here~!!”
“Are you a stalker or what? Don’t you have a fuckin’ job, a place to be? Though, I highly doubt anyone would wanna hire an asshole like you.”
“How mean... Fortunately, I do have a job! And it’s being. Right. Next. To. You~” he says looking a bit too sure of himself.
“Shut your mouth, and stop fuckin’ following me like a creep.”
“But I just told you my job is being next to you~”
“I said shut your mouth, you asshole! Let’s go Kyouka-chan! I’m tired of this bastard.”
I stretch my arm to grasp hers but—
“Kyouka-chan?” I look to my side and there’s no one.
“Whoopsies! But now we get some alone-time—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU BASTARD—” I pull him by the collar ready to throw a punch or two—
“Calm down, it hasn’t been that long. We can still look for her, together.” I let go of his hunched silhouette. As I step back, I see his expression. He looks... serious?
“We’ll split up and look for her. Didn’t she say she wanted crepes? She is probably at one of the food stalls.” He says in an uncanny tone. Shockingly for once, he isn’t being a jerk.
Despite the fact I don’t wish to spend another second of my time with his bastard, Kyouka-chan comes first than other major annoyances. Him obviously topping that list. Unfortunately for me, he had made a good point about splitting up so I nod at him and we start the hunt.
Stall after stall, I keep walking. The festival which was already suffocating felt even more nauseating. It had perhaps been about only 15 minutes but the combined anxieties of the situation which, I didn’t even feel comfortable expressing, made the passing of time all the more excruciatingly painful.
Growing up in the environment we did, Kyouka-chan knew how to protect herself better than the average 12-year-old, but in my eyes, she’s still a kid.
I keep myself stuck in this reassurance loop.
Eyes sharp, I look,
and walk,
and look,
and walk,
and lock,
And then it ends. I had reached the end of the row of stalls.
Now I’m even more worried.
“Kyouka-chan...” I mutter.
Just as I had started feeling buried hopelessness, I see purple in my periphery. I recognize the smaller, and similar silhouette of a certain food obsessed girl. “Kyouka-chan!”, I bolt towards her.
But she’s different. She looks different than she did this morning. Why is she so pale? What happened? And... that fuckin’ mackerel standing next to her.
The closer I get, the paler her complexion gets, that like of a ghost. He’s says something to her,
“You aren’t human, are you now?”,
.
.
.
“What?—” She looks like a ghost,
“What the fuck did you do to her—”
I look up at the bastard and he’s smiling.
“I said what—”, she tugs at my very much dishevelled Yukata now. All her excitement had been drained. She can barely hold herself together.
“Can we leave Chuuya-kun?”