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I. FATHER
He is always in the corner of your vision, the back of your mind, the edge of your dreams. He is the voice in every silent moment and the glimmer in the dark. He is there even when he’s not, even when you’ve run so far, even when you’ve moved on, even when you’ve found a new home and a new family and even when he’s dead.
Even when he’s dead.
You don’t tell your friends how often you see him. You don’t want them to worry, and you don’t have any explanation beyond he’s always there, he’s always been there, he takes a different shape and different face on occasion, but he is always there. You’d like to say you’ve gotten used to it. You should be used to it.
If he’s always there, it should be like he’s never there.
But,
there he stands. Face shadowed and formless, but standing tall and stern just as he did back then. He’s in the middle of the street, he’s behind a desk, he’s in the bathroom, the kitchen, your bedroom, etc, etc. He doesn’t speak much these days.
But there he is.
There he always is.
Is something wrong, Kyouka asks, following your gaze to the lamp in the corner. The bulb flickers. He does not say a word, does not move a muscle, does not so much as breathe. But his presence is enough.
You click your teeth and tell her, “No.”
II. ENEMY
He sneers at you, and you sneer back. That’s how things are between the two of you, whether it’s him or the him you see now. The him you see now doesn’t appear all that often, really. Mostly in times of distress. You’re not distressed right now, exactly, but you’re not not distressed.
It’s a mundane distress.
“You are overreacting,” he tells you, as if you don’t know that. As if you’re an idiot—fool, his voice corrects in your mind. Foolish weretiger.
There is a familiar sort of comfort in the insult.
“I know that,” you bite out. You try to brush past and ignore him, but he rematerializes several meters ahead of you. No matter how far or fast you walk, he continues doing this. He’s just as irritating and stubborn in this form, it seems.
Finally, you stop and turn to fully face him. His dark eyes bore into you, face on full display, clad in black. His coat blows in a non-existent breeze.
“Fool,” he says. “You did not even bother to pay attention to where you were headed.”
You start, looking around, and the protest dies on your tongue—because you are, in fact, lost. You were supposed to meet up with Kyouka five minutes ago, to go over your findings for the case, except you don’t have any findings, so you were desperately searching for anything to bring back to her, and then he appeared, looking at you as if you’re the scum of the earth, and now—
you’re here.
You’re here, and he’s here, because you can’t outrun him and you were stupid to even try.
“Okay, well.” You cross your arms. “You know this city better than I do. Help me get back.”
He rolls his eyes.
Then, he points you in the right direction and follows you until you reconvene with Kyouka.
III. MENTOR
You watch him from a distance, unsure if he’s really there.
You can’t sleep, and so you’re on the roof. You were watching the stars until a different movement caught your eye, and now you’re watching him pace back and forth. It might really be him, except he’s wearing his day clothes, and it’s the middle of the night, and the one time you actually ran into him in the middle of the night, he was in pajamas. He said, if he’s got the energy to get up and walk around at this hour, he’s going to be comfortable.
Fair enough, you thought.
So you watch from afar. He’s always distant anyways.
He paces. You pick at a thread on your gloves. He paces some more, and you wonder if he’s here for any reason other than to be a bother in the corner of your vision. Or the center of your vision. He’s not keeping you company, and he’s not offering you advice, and he’s not scolding you, so—
You’re a bit confused.
In the past, he’s only ever appeared with a purpose.
Finally, after what might be hours, he stops pacing and he looks up at you.
“Atsushi-kun,” he says. “Go to bed.”
“I can’t,” you reply. Your voice shouldn’t carry over the wind, but he understands you anyway.
“It’s cold. Go inside.”
“Bold words coming from you,” you grumble. He’s never been one to care for his own health, and when he worries about the health of others, he does not use so many words to admit it. He’ll lock you in your dorm before he’ll tell you that’s where he wants you to go, and then he’ll say he only did it because the sound of your sneezing was getting on his nerves.
He sighs, turning his gaze to the sky. “Your memory is getting hazy,” he notes.
You frown, and look to the sky as well. All of the stars are gone.
Of course they are. You’re in the city now, and the light pollution blocks out all of them. This isn’t like the orphanage in the middle of nowhere. The stars are there, but they can’t be seen, and you don’t remember the exact patterns from your childhood. You weren’t allowed outside enough to memorize something like that.
Okay, you think. Okay. The stars are gone.
You get up and go back inside and try to get some more sleep.
IV. FRIEND?
He sneers at you, and you wave in response, which only serves to make his frown deepen.
“Fool,” he says.
“Hey,” you greet in a casual whisper. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”
“I am not here for idle conversation,” he growls.
Well of course not, you think. But there’s nothing else to do because you’re stuck in the ceiling of some old building, waiting until it’s safe to leave, and Kyouka is asleep. But you can’t sleep at the same time, because one of you has to keep watch. So.
He’s here.
With you.
“Do you have another suggestion?”
“You are the single most obnoxious person I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.”
You laugh silently to yourself. And he—your enemy-turned-friend?—smiles. But only because you want him to.
V. FAMILY
What are you supposed to do?
Voice one, the linchpin: “What about this can’t you understand?”
Head in hands, what are you supposed to do?
Voice two, the protector: “Failure is unacceptable.”
Eyes filling with tears, what are you supposed to do?
Voice three, the sister: “You don’t have to do anything.”
Body shaking. Heart pounding. Breath faltering. How could you have anticipated this; how could anyone have anticipated this? You look up to the faces around you, hoping for the comfort they offer at every other time, but all you find is indifference.
All you find is exactly what you deserve.
+ I. FOIL
“He still shows up sometimes,” you admit, so quiet you hope it cannot be heard. He still shows up, though it doesn’t hurt like it used to. It doesn’t cut so deep. It doesn’t leave him off-kilter for weeks; doesn’t force you into a panic, doesn’t leave you breathless and certain this is the end.
Is he here now?
You nod. He’s cloaked in shadows like a fading memory, but you know exactly who it is. Your hands burn, your stomach burns, your body is alight with the painful recollection of all he put you through. It hasn’t been this bad in a while. You thought you were getting better.
You almost let yourself believe he was gone for good.
Where?
You point.
Ryuunosuke looks. And then he turns back to you. Takes one of your hands in his. Says, I do not see anything. Would you like me to go over there?
“No,” you whisper, lips trembling. No, you want him to stay where he is. You want him to stay here, with you, where you know it is him and not some other version of him who exists only in your mind.
Okay. What can I do?
“He’ll go away eventually,” you explain. “I think— I’m just…tired.”
Ryuunosuke nods slowly. Sleep, then.
“I— I can’t—”
It was not a suggestion.
“But—”
Weretiger.
You cannot look away from him, standing in the corner, in a shroud of darkness. You should be getting better. You were getting better. You hadn’t seen him in so long, you thought— you thought—
“Fool,” a voice says.
You look to Ryuunosuke, catching the tail end of the word as it falls from his lips. He moves his hands to cup your face, forcing eye contact. Forcing you to see him instead of the man in the corner of the room.
“Atsushi.”
You nod.
“Let us sleep.”
You nod again. Okay, you think. Okay. You let Ryuunosuke help you stand, and you do not look at the shadowed man as you pass him by. He does not speak. Maybe because you do not remember his voice anymore. You follow Ryuunosuke to his bedroom, and then, as you turn to enter—
You look back.
The shadowed man has taken on a different face. One with a smile. A bandaged hand gestures vaguely. Go to sleep, Atsushi-kun, he says.
You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Is he gone?” Ryuunosuke asks.
“Sort of. He’s someone else now.”
Ryuunosuke raises an eyebrow.
“I’ll be okay,” you tell him, which is the answer you know he’s looking for.
He nods, satisfied, trusting you know yourself and your mind well enough to be sure of that. He has followed your lead on this from the beginning, back when the two of you were still enemies, through to when you were friends? and now when you are something else entirely. Something bound by blood and oaths and a mutual understanding that runs bone-deep.
When you speak to those who are not there, he only asks whether you need help. When you see something that does not exist, he checks when you ask him to. And when there are nights like these, when you fear you are sliding backwards and the shadow man with FATHER written in blood across his chest makes a reappearance, he holds your hand, and he brings you back to bed.
“Okay,” Ryuunosuke replies easily.
And the two of you sleep.