The world rocks gently below his feet, the familiar sway of a quiet sea. In the dark, he tastes the salt on the breeze, allows himself to dance in time to the rhythmic pounding of the waves.
And then, he opens his eyes, and what he sees makes him stand still.
Around him is... his room. Not the bedroom heâs settled into in the mansion, not the office he spends more time in, not any other place that exists in Hive City. Heâs in his quarters aboard the Kiheitaiâs ship, docked in Edoâs harbor. All his possessions are as he left themâfrom the row of stringed instruments against the wall to the disorderly pile of paper on his desk, to the bloodied laundry left on the floor to be cleaned later, when heâd inevitably return with more to clean.
When he... returned. As he always would, to the only home he has and the only people who matter.
They took it as simple fact, not something to feel worry or relief about.
And now, it seems he was right. Heâs here at last.
Though... no one else seems to be. The ship is oppressively quiet, not a word nor a note echoing down the halls to greet him. Only the sound of water washing against the hull.
He turns to open the door, and his foot kicks up a dust cloud. Thatâs not right... on closer inspection, everything in the room is coated in a thick layer of dust. Even the unmade futon, which logically he should have just been lying on.
A cold, creeping sense of dread has begun to rise in him, but he takes a few deep breaths, coughs once as he inhales even more dust, and then steps out into the corridor.
Silence. He opens each door he passes, poking his head inside, but every room is void of life. Even Matakoâs and Takechiâs rooms, still full of all their things, stand empty. Even Shinsukeâs...
As if on cue, there is music. A song Bansai knows well: a surprisingly simple, repetitive melody layered in harsh stabs of rage and sorrow until it becomes almost a driving force, a wall of sound that takes oneâs breath away when it hits.
Of course, there is only one place heâd be on a night like this. Bansai breaks from his cautious pace into a full sprint, following the sound out to the deck. Sure enough, the man is there, standing at the bow with his back turned.
Bansai stops at a polite distance, waiting to be addressed. But, when there is no answer, he takes a few steps closer, speaking again in a hushed voice. âYou are here. You are... it is a relief to see you at last. Shinsuke, something is not right. Where have the others gone...?â
The song plays on without change; there is not even the slightest hint that his words were heard at all.
Has he done something wrong? No, even if Shinsuke was refusing to answer him, there would still have been a reaction. And speaking of reactions... his song lacks the usual quiet wistful quality it takes on when he is relaxed, sounding dire and dour in contrast to the peace of the night.
Gradually, he inches forward until he can rest a hand on his leaderâs shoulder.
Bansai tries to shake him, but finds his form as solid and unyielding as a statue. So instead, he leans around him until their faces are almost touching. Shinsukeâs lone eye is undoubtedly alive, but dull and tired as he stares fixedly down at the dark water.
They stand like that for a while, until Shinsuke shifts his weight, the sudden movement causing Bansai to jump, backing away again.
Shinsuke sighs, his shoulders slumped as he turns around at last, the distant look still in his eye.
Bansai watches expectantly, forcing a smile that immediately dissolves into a look of concern.
âPlease, Shinsuke. Say something... say anything. It is okay if you are upset. If you are angry, or frightened, or... disappointed.â
His voice catches on the last word. Heâd seen that last mission as their greatest victory, but even if the Earth was saved it could also be considered their greatest loss. It was likely they would never be able to rebuild what they had, so much was sacrificed.
Even Bansai himself was... no. Heâs here now.
âThis one can take anything you have to say. You know that, and even if you did not you have always spoken your mind regardless. So, please...â
Shinsuke takes an uneasy step toward him, and his heart leaps... and then, Shinsuke keeps walking, closing the space between them until heâs...
...Passed right through Bansai, continuing uninterrupted on his way back inside.
Bansai shudders violently, his legs buckle under him, and he falls to the floor.
The sound of footsteps recedes, but the music does not; it only grows louder, shriller, warped by distress until it is no longer recognizable. His hands clamp over his ears, but it does nothing to block out the horrible sound.
He isnât here. He can never be here again. Heâs gone, lost, dead. Less than a ghost, merely a memory that clings where it is inconvenient. And Shinsuke is alone.
The darkness closes in. Heâs curled into an uncomfortable ball, trying in vain to shelter himself.
Unseen and unheard, all he can do now is cry.
titsay
2087
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
