ăShabana Gyutaroă January Snow
*i donât think they had guns back then but letâs just pretend they do
âI still firmly believeâ that youâre out there somewhere in this world, waiting for me, as young as you were, as loving as you were.â
Perhaps not many people would believe this, the fact that Shabana Gyutaro has also experienced love in his teenage years of life. A monster like him, a freak, how could he have possibly fallen in love? Itâs ridiculous no matter how he thinks of it.
It was the first snow of the year when he met you. The color white dyed the entire town and the snow produced a satisfying crunching sound whenever he stepped on it with his bare feet, snowflakes fell from the sky and he had almost mistaken it for rain. Sudden footsteps appeared behind him and he spun around, sickle pointing at whoever dared to approach him, only to find a girl a head shorter standing there, panting, with a pink fur coat in her hands. He guessed that it was yours.
âUhm...â You started, âI saw you walking by just now, I noticed that you didnât have a coat, so please, take this.â You handed your coat to him, âYou must be cold.â
Ignoring his dry skin that cracked and turned red due to the weather, and his fingers and legs that slowly turned stiff, âDonât need it.â He scowled. Are you trying to pity him? You wealthy little girl who has multiple coats, each a different color.
Maybe youâve never talked to anyone as ugly as him before, or maybe youâre just cold as well, your hands shook and tears swirled in your pretty eyes, âN-no, I insist, I canât bear walking back home still with the coat I was supposed to give you. Take it, if it makes you feel better then return it when winter ends, you will not owe me anything.â You shoved the coat into his hands and ran as fast as you could back into your yard, tripped by the thick snow multiple times.
Gyutaro watched as you hurried back home, he looked back at the coat in his hands and he wanted to tear it apart and throw it on the ground and stomp it until it was nothing but pieces of dirty and useless cloth. But gosh, itâs so warm, to the point where he doesnât even want to let go.
The second time he saw you, you were just passing by the street with your maid when he dragged one of his victims out of the brothel he was in. Gyutaro flung the man onto the hard earth and pointed his weapon at the victimâs throat. Murmurs were heard throughout the street yet they only made Gyutaroâs smile bigger.
âNow, pay up.â He taunted.
When the gold coins clinked in Gyutaroâs hands and when the man hurriedly scrambled away, he turned around, meeting your eyes. One of your hands covered your mouth and the other clung onto your maidâs sleeves, his surprised expression turned into a frown, and then his lips curved upwards again as he walked to you. Your maid tried to block him but one simple shove from him made her lose balance. You took a step back and he giggled. See, even youâre afraid of him, just like everyone else.
âGot something to say to me? Miss.â He was dangerously close to the point you can feel the heat radiating from his slim body. You looked everywhere but his eyes trying to think of something, would he be mad if you just simply shook your head?
Maggot, dimwit, idiot, good-for-nothing, useless, disgrace, freak, monster. He imagined everything you could call him, hitting him with dirt and rocks on the floor, tripping over your own feet, and then begging for mercy when he decides to kill you.
You were taking too long.
âCome on, come on! Say something, man, youâre taking too damn long!â He raised his voice, scratching his neck in frustration.
âUm!â Startled, you blurted out the first thing in your mind, âYouâre not wearing the coat I gave you, please wear it, itâs still very cold outside!â Immediately lowering your head, embarrassed of what just came out of your mouth. Gyutaro stared at you, wide-eyed, mouth agape.
âDonât give me that crapâŠâ He muttered.
âI said donât give me that crap!!â He shouted, raising his sickle, accidentally slicing across your cheek, blood oozed out of the small yet deep cut instantly, âYou say those things like you actually care! I hate people like you, I bet you think youâre the nicest person in this whole world, huh?! I bet itâs nice to have a nice house with maids to look after you, niiiice for you, mannn, niiice for youu⊠a person like you doesn't have to bring warmth to someone like me, and I donât need your pity either. Go kill yourself.â His words were like fangs coated with venom, tears flowed down your cheeks and mixed in with the crimson blood that has yet to be stopped. Your hands pressed onto your wound, it hurts. It hurts.
Gyutaro stared at the direction you ran off to, all he could hear was your muffled sobbing and it made him want to tear his ears off. He hates the way you cry, it makes him frustrated and when heâs frustrated he canât stop scratching himself, until his skin gets stuck under his dirty fingernails, until the tip of his fingers are dyed red.
And then he never saw you again until spring came. Gyutaro always walks back to that place he called home and then pass by your house, and everytime he tries to look through the windows he sees nothing. Not you, not your maids, not your parents, no one. When winter ended, he stood on your front porch, holding your poorly washed pink furry coat in his hands that were red and numb from being in the cold water stream for too long. His hand was raised, ready to knock on the door any second, yet he paused, hesitating like a teenage boy who had just fallen in love. He stayed in his position for at least 15 minutes, his forearm cold like a corpse as his blood struggled to flow in his raised arm. Until the door opened.
You stood there as beautiful as you were a few months ago, the cut he accidentally gave you remained as a scar on your skin. You looked up at him, surprised by his presence, yet remained quiet, waiting patiently for him to say something.
âI⊠I came back to give back your coat.â He said, dryly, handing over your coat.
â... Thank you for returning it.â You bowed your head as thanks.
Gyutaro watched as your delicate hands reached for the coat that looks like itâs been used everyday for years, and then suddenly he no longer wants to give back your coat. Someone like you touching something that has been used by him seems terrifying, like a drop of ink in a glass of milk. It was a sinâ a sin greater than anything else.
He clung onto the coat until he realized that he was clutching onto it, hesitantly, he released his grip. He watched as you passed the coat to your maid, who then took it inside the house.
Gyutaro awkwardly stood in front of you, staring at your peaceful smiling face in silence. Awkwardness took over the air, for him at least.
âCome in and have some tea.â You broke the silence, offering a cup of tea in gratitude for him giving back the coat.
Gyutaro froze in place. Go inside and have tea? What kind of sick joke⊠You canât have someone like him dirting your floors, especially after giving you that nasty cut, or what he thought was a nasty cut, on a pretty face like yours. âNo- no, Iâm good, man. My sisterâs waiting for me to go back home. Maybe some other day.â He says.
âOkay.â You said, smiling calmly as always, and Gyutaroâs hand rose up to his nape, scratching it in a kind of frustration he canât even find.
And there he unintentionally created another chance to see you again. Until the long summer days finally came to an end, and winter passed halfway.
âHey, Gyutaro-kun! Letâs go to the New Years Festival today! Bring Ume-chan with you, please?â You called his name like you always did, asking him to accompany you wherever you go.
âSure.â He grumbled, different from when you first knew him, different from denial and rejection.
Colorful fireworks exploded into the night sky, creating a beautiful contrast. It was truly the happiest moment of your life, welcoming the new year with good friends, not worrying about a thing in this world, about your parents who never come back home.
But happiness doesn't last. A sound that sounded like fireworks came from the crowd, a person dropped down onto the floor, a crimson red pooled beneath him, and the people around him screamed.
âWho did that!?Whatâs happening!?â
And then everything else was a blur. People were running in all directions as more gunshots went off, and fires started to spread from all the knocked over food stalls. More and more people ended up dead on the floor, and people stepped over anything and everything to escape.
âWe have to go!â Gyutaro called your name while holding onto Ume. As he finally got a grasp on your wrist, someone collapsed onto the hem of your kimono.
You panicked and tried to yank out your kimono but your feet already took their steps. Tripping over, someone stepped directly onto your back, knocking the air out of you, before the wooden support post of a nearby food stall collapsed right on top of your lower body. You cried in pain.
âHurry! Get up!â Gyutaro screamed, yanking you with his hands before trying to lift up the support post.
âI⊠I canâtâŠ!â Tears pooled in your eyes, âDonât worry about me, just go. Go back with Ume. Iâll be okay, someone will come soon, to help, Iâll be fine.â You shoved on his hand, âCome back later when you get Ume home, Iâll be fine.â
Gyutaro opened his mouth as if to protest, but watching all the chaos going on, and your pleading eyes. âOkay, wait for me, Iâll be back soon.â Slowly, he let go of your hand, and that was the last time he ever touched your warm hands.
You muffled your sobs with your kimono sleeves as you watched him disappear into the chaos with Ume.
No, donât leave. It hurts. Donât leave me alone. Help me. Donât leave me.
White snow started falling from the sky and the fires died down. Tears dried on your face and your vision started to blur. The snow fell on your body like a white blanket as if the sky was mourning for you.
When Gyutaro returned, all he could find was your already cold and stiff body, his hands shook with fear as they reached for yours. Your empty eyes that were still opened stared into his, cut and bruises littered over your body yet you were still as beautiful as always. His hand gently covered your eyes and brought your eyelids down.
âDidnât you say you were going to be alright?â
Gyutaro gritted his teeth and his eyes were bloodshot with anger and sadness. His sickle that he brought with him cut down the wooden support post, and he carried your body out and slowly brought you back home. He watched helplessly as your maids cried over your body, and suddenly he wanted to cry too.
He wasnât there at your funeral. He was scared, afraid. Afraid of those hollow eyes that stared into his, as if your death was all on him, as if you were blaming him for everything that happened.
âShe wouldnât do that.â Ume immediately opposed his thoughts. âSheâs the nicest person Iâve ever met! If she didnât die, she wouldâve married you. If you think she hates you, then youâre just speaking ill of her.â Tears pooled in her eyes as she cried to defend you with everything sheâs got.
Gyutaro looked down at the tattered and molded tatami heâs sitting on. âI wish I married her.â He simply stated.
Even after becoming a demon and losing all his memories, he always knew that there were once someone in this world who loved him. Even when his head got cut off, he still firmly believes, that youâre still out there somewhere in this world, waiting for him, as young as you were, as loving as you were.
And the next time he opened his eyes, you were right there.
