#niwatari rei

It's been a while, 𝓅𝒶𝓅𝒶〜

He doesn't respond, stares back. Sheesh, what a puzzled face!

         Hilarious~

“It seems that a… fortunate event struck you.”

Something infinitely better than hearing Ṃ̴̤̉͋y̵̳̾ ̸̪̍͊Ñ̵̘i̴̙̚g̷͍͒́h̷̡̠̑t̷̤̓ͅm̶̳̈́ȁ̵͈͝r̴̬͔̓̽e̶͕͍̋̋'s complaints every day. (Whose fault was it, again...?)

They're in his mind, so he can read the attempts at regaining composure, the smile that draws itselt almost automatically, as well as the desperate effort to conceal the helplesness that has spread everywhere in that messy, m̵̪̀̓é̷̞̠͆s̸̯̓͊s̸̜̈y̷̗̽́ body.

   Gloved hands cup the metaphorical face,     fingertips slide under the eyeglasses temples,      faces grow closer.

I'll leave in a second〜

I know, I know. You're wondering how I could visit so easily. Well, you see, I didn't only get this new hat. Who else could know you as well? I only had to  l o c a t e  ⋋(•⌔•)⋌ you.

He gasps, trying to avoid his touch.

(There's no avoiding, in a dream. Whatever you fear is going to come, will come, because you gave it the idea of coming.)

Do not approach them, okay?

I know where you 「live」 now.

And entering that mind of yours was surprisingly easy.

The entrance door shut down on the other side of the apartment: Satoshi had returned from his evening classes slightly later than usual. Sitting up straight again, Kei listened to the steps in the living room, through the corridor, to the bedroom the child used until boarding school reopened near the beginning of autumn. Tip, tap, tip… The light, steady patting sound of a small animal. How foreign… He still struggled to get used to the idea of living with this child, and the imminent upcoming change didn’t help.

He glanced at the watch on his right wrist. He’d give him ten minutes, pay him a visit, then get dinner ready. As for the bath, Kei didn’t bother running it in his place: the boy was big enough. Thus went their common life.

Sometimes, he reminisced about the first time he had held Satoshi in his arms, and the indefinable emotion that had spread within his entire body. Dying instantly would have been a desirable option if it had meant any benefit for the newborn, and he’d have accepted with joy. How things could change once reason took control again…

The required time passed, and he rose from the armchair to seek Satoshi’s presence, not without closing the diary and putting it back in the work bag where it had no chance of being forgotten. Old reflex: where there is any pair of prying eyes, never leave personal belongings in plain sight.

All this time, the child had been occupying his bedroom, allowing him to spend most of his time there, where he wouldn’t be bothered by his demanding schedule – polite way to mean “presence”. A knock on the door later, Kei had pushed the door open, catching him as he had expected: sitting at the desk with his homework.

“Good evening, Satoshi!”

“Good evening.”

The boy wisely placed his pen down in the middle of his open notebook, knowing well that such a visit would last more than a few seconds. If, at first, uninspired comments about good behaviour and excellent results were all Kei managed to summon, he came up with a new angle in listing and commenting the supplies he would soon receive for his education. Without really realising how, encouraged by the abandoned exercises before the boy, he ended up giving recommendations about how to receive positive attention from professors, the best way to deflect anger from jealous comrades, or which characters he had to pay more attention to in his handwriting. There was something truly joyous in declaiming a well-meaning tirade about the importance of tying a tie properly in front of an entirely inexpressive child who he knew paid much more attention than what his lack of responses indicated.

“In short, there is one thing you must remember if you want to have effective success in any initiative…”

Kei had leaned against the door’s frame, arms crossed. From here, he could embrace the entire bedroom in a single glance. The few belongings, books or bags, that Satoshi had scattered on the floor or desk were not enough to dissimulate the emptiness Kei had left for him. This way, it was impossible to guess the man’s personality, tastes or even history. Pictures and souvenirs had been moved to the office, where the boy couldn’t see and tacitly wasn’t even allowed to go.

“Be flawless, always. If you are at your very best at all times, you’re leaving no cavity for anyone to grab, right?”

“Yes, father.”

Satoshi lowered his gaze to the floor. They were probably thinking about the same thing: how the boy already flowed like water between his fingers, preventing him from attacking on any side. Flexible, avoidant, unreachable. A perfect child who, with assertiveness, would become a perfect adult. He only needed to make sure he stayed steady during the upcoming years, and Kei would help.

“You’ll be fine,” he concluded with a last smile.

Thirty days left before school. Thirty tiny days of this adorable face, and then… Then, Rio’s side of the plan would reach its end where Kei’s would begin.

“Perhaps you have questions?” Kei only responded.

“Is there anything I should know before Satoshi?”

In front of the Black Wings, Kosuke had ruined everything. Weeks ago, the man had obviously guessed something sounded off in the stories he had been told. From this unspoken beginning of truth, suspicions had risen, excited by the other’s silences. The latter had understood, from the looks he caught, that Kosuke was expecting him to plan to leave, disappear, perhaps even die. How, he couldn’t possibly figure, but the researcher had fathomed that much. He was that efficient.

Thus, when they had rushed to defend Satoshi against Krad one last time, Kosuke had immediately understood the moment had come, that a confession would lead to a disaster; facing a confused, helpless, hurt Satoshi, he had stopped him from telling the truth. Doing so, Kosuke had saved his life.

But at what cost? The lies that he had tightly weaved for over six years weren’t supposed to last forever, just like his purpose. Kosuke had been the softest, the gentlest parenthesis in this life, bringing him undying support and unrivalled understanding. Despite ignoring his true nature, he had managed to share his feelings to an intimate level. Parenthood. Dedication. Sacrifice. However, true understanding had never been an option.

They had loved each other. If Kosuke had ever found out about his true nature, the level of acceptance brought between them would have immediately destroyed the thing called Elm Root. Simultaneously being understood and sharing affection were impossible for him. They had always been, at the core of his being, of his curse. Destruction had been the only outcome – it hadn’t happened, now what?

“Is there anything you want to know before Satoshi?”

Kosuke smiled, amusement mixed with sadness. Getting any answer had never been simple, their twisted little game resonated sadly after what they had lived. Yet it was something they could still share.

“What’s your name?”

“You’ve guessed that much, haven’t you?”

Both Kosuke and Satoshi were knowledgeable enough to put a word on the powers he had displayed against Krad. Few ancient artworks had survived the Cultural Revolution, even less shared a bond with trees.

“And how should I call you?”

This question was unexpected. His identity had always been clear: Elm Root, first artwork of the Hikari patriarch Himself, faithful companion of a long lineage of artists, guiding them towards perfection, through prosperity and madness. That had been until twenty years ago, when Hikari Rio had appeared. She had been the first to challenge what he meant to the family: not only had she encouraged him to completely pass as human for the next generation, but she had concealed information about his true identity. No record mentioned Elm Root; after Rio, no Hikari knew it still existed.

“‘Hiwatari Kei’ is the name I chose for this life. So that Hikari Rio’s son…” He paused. Satoshi would have to forgive him for revealing the truth to someone else first. “So that our son could be supported until the time had come.”

For the first time this day, Kosuke glanced in his direction. Their eyes met for a few seconds; the corner of his lips twisted in a quiet grimace. Had he guessed this as well? Had he guessed that much? Were a few painful words interrupted in a critical situation and a few months of relationship all it took for him, really? Meeting someone this talented and intelligent was rare.

“Then,” Kosuke asked, straightening his back as if he was about to leave. Yet he stayed. “Can I ask if you still want me?”

Reddening ears however betrayed the true feelings under the detached demeanour. Shared true feelings. At no moment had he expected Kosuke to want to stay by his side. There was no way love could have survived this amount of… “Kei” being “Kei”. And even if it had, somehow, Elm Root would have been turned to dust.

“If there is any way Niwa Kosuke can willingly decide to spend more time with a thing, I’ll gladly observe the process.”

“You’re not a ‘thing’, Kei.”

That was new. And unexpected.

Typical Niwa Kosuke…

Hair spread around her head on the pillow, their curls a controlled mess, revealing that she, or perhaps a nurse, had combed them earlier in the day. Could Satoshi…? There was so much he did not know, so much she didn’t tell, so much he didn’t see for himself and, even if he knew this was the rule, he couldn’t help but feel the small, so familiar bite of regret.

He had cheated, bended, visiting her from time to time, when Satoshi wasn’t there, making sure he’d remain nothing but a stranger for as long as possible. He had caught glimpses of their life together – Satoshi’s changing toys, her new love for vinyl records, art projects left around to dry. Certainly not enough to fill every gap in his knowledge, but abundant enough for him to get a nebulous idea of their everchanging selves. Every time, she scolded him, in her own, silent ways, punishing him with the lack of attention he always found so charming.

But the time had finally come for him to leave this part of his life behind and take shape in their son’s mind. Everything was ready, from his own soaring career within the police to the boarding school Rio had (reluctantly) picked (with his guidance.)

“I know.”

Her voice came out rough, low, almost a whisper. Giving up on resisting, he reached out and placed one hands on hers. He needed to keep the moment a bit more, a tiny bit more, before he had to leave.

Everything was ready but his own feelings.

He didn’t have a lot of clothes; everything he truly needed would fit in his bag once again. “Kei” could keep the rest; he could even set it on fire if he wanted. Without bothering with folding, Kosuke pressed everything together, soon moving on to the living room where his notebooks waited. More than a decade of researches, the work of a lifetime.

Daisuke and Satoshi were free… Did he still need these?

No, no, he’d think about it later. These journals were important to him, leaving them behind was out of question; they joined the clothes in the backpack. The cell phone would come, as well as his old bentō box. The couple books he had bought for himself could fit, but they forced him to slow down in front of their shelf. Which ones did he really want to keep…? Many were gifts from “Kei”, or volumes they had bought together on one of their numerous escapades downtown. In a way, his books were their books. Kosuke had devoted everything he had to finding a solution to the curse: his time, his studies, his belongings. He would probably have eaten Hikari-themed food if it had helped in any way.

And all along, Kei had encouraged him, well aware of the benefits it could bring to his own son. Of course, he had never thought about Daisuke, not even for one second, yet Kosuke had worked for both of the kids, Satoshi’s weakening health only acting as a motivator. Wasn’t that the right thing to do? And all that for what? In the end, he had barely lightened their pain…

Kei could keep the books too.

No time to think about the suffocating weight in his throat. He needed to leave this place, not even to join his son, who he was certain was too busy to think about his parents at this moment. Just… to go anywhere. In a place that didn’t feel like the fabricated fantasy he had been living for months.

He needed truth. Anything tangible. For now, putting on his shoes and walking through the door would have to do.

But the weight dragged him down, slowing his gestures, forcing him to focus twice as much on the knots his trembling fingers refused to tie.

He had lied for this long. Who wouldn’t be furious? And yet, above everything, Kosuke was still mad at himself. He was mad that he got deceived for this long, that he hadn’t guessed anything even remotely close to the truth. A lousy researcher. Mediocre father. An execrable husband. An absolute disaster of a person. And the worst boyfriend in town. By far.

He kicked his shoes away, flipped his bag, shaking it mercilessly to make its content fall. From the chopsticks to his underwear, everything spread on the floor of the genkan.

“Kei” – or whoever that was – would need clothes at the hospital.