Many lives to be lived, many to be lost

“Hush, keep calm. Keep your eyes open, keep your mind sharp, do not slide away into unconsciousness, do not attempt to escape. Try to kill me and die in the process.”

Yuusuke turned back at a loss for words, the first thing to meet his eyes was the uncanny pale face of a man wearing a black robe. He wanted to shout, to rage, have the man’s blood on his hands. But his body refused to move, he was paralysed from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me not to allow you the sight of their faces, please wait here.”

He walked to the other room while humming.

“There they are, look how clean and beautiful they look, the two of them; the many many years they lived side by side, the memories they shared…” he handed the two heads to Yuusuke. “Look, don’t they look just perfect.”

That was well past the boy’s break point. He dropped on his knees, both hands on his mouth, trying his hardest not to vomit.

The man asked “Oh my, what’s that? Are you saying something? Grandma can’t hear you well.” He then put her head back where Yuusuke could see it.

The stranger then tapped gently on Yuusuke’s back and held his chin, “Poor boy,” he said with heartwarming kindness, “Let me relieve you… You know, helping someone throw up is one of the many skills you learn as you grow older, it comes in handy every now and then.”

But Yuusuke kept holding it in, it was about more than just keeping the floor clean. However, his efforts were made vain by a kick in the stomach that forced the fluids out of his body. The man screamed: “Can you not see I’m trying you help, you little shit?”

The man punched the wall in rage as Yuusuke fell on the sick-splattered floor and groaned in agony.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK! God, do I hate children,” he took a deep breath then continued: “Let’s get this over with.”

Out his robe floated a dagger, black of blade, handle and sheath. The man’s right hand held the dagger, and the other one pinned Yuusuke’s head to the floor. “You have only yourself to blame, child. In the next life, maybe be careful what kind of God you hastily ask for help.” His hand quickly and mercilessly drove the blade through the boy’s neck. But just as blood splatter, death struggles and cries were expected, there was nothing—He instead found his hands empty. As the man checked his robe, the dagger which he had just held sat innocently in his pocket.

“Mind if I interrupt?”

At the sight of Akihiko, the man drew his dagger once more and rushed driven by bloodlust to stab him. But once more, just as he could swear his dagger tore through Akihiko’s organs, he found himself sitting back where he sat as the teacher entered.

In the meantime, Akihiko walked slowly and took hold of the unconscious young man, ignoring the crazed one who tried at least a couple more times to stab him. Of course, failing all of them, and finding himself right where he started.

The teacher walked down the stairs struggling to carry Yuusuke on his back. He stopped just before he could no longer see the attacker and said, “I suggest you leave this place, I’ll burn it down,” he said with a voice that would send chills down one’s spine and kept walking, down the stairs, out the door, through the still-crowded street… Another house was set on fire—a fire so persistent that, despite the firefighters standing next door, the house stayed lit for hours.

“Why?” Yuusuke asked as his sobbing grew more audible. The pain, the loss, the powerlessness, they all became more tangible, more… real.

“You’re awake! Can you walk on your own?”

The boy nodded in affirmation.

“Why you say? Why did they try to kill your family? Why did they try to kill you? Why couldn’t they kill you? Why did they burn the neighbouring building?”

Yuusuke gave Akihiko a dead look, one that carried the words “don’t get carried away, old man.”

The teacher sighed and continued, “They saw your face, they knew you asked IT for help, they knew you can use magic… that’s the kind of dirty work they have their hands dipped in.”

“Who are they?”

“Remember when I told you about how IT was sealed?” He frowned, “Some people obviously opposed such a decision, they tried to have IT break free… This disagreement polarised mages into two parties who have fought ever since: those who want to break the seals on one side, and those who want to protect them.”

“And the ones who attacked us are?”

“The Guards, we call them. Despite their goal being protection, they always dare to do unhinged things to kill opposing mages.”

There was a long, deep and layered silence as the two walked the cobblestone path, the last rays of sunlight showing them the way.

“Do you have any friends or relatives?” Akihiko asked.

“No.”

“Anywhere to live?”

“No,” his voice cracked.

They resumed walking in silence until they reached the shrine where Akihiko called its four residents.

“Sensei? What brings you here so late?” Asked Seishiro, he immediately noticed Yuusuke and addressed him: “You must be Ikehara from the third year, I hope those morons didn’t bother you.”

“Seishiro, we’re leaving.”

The look on the boy’s face changed from concern to calm decisiveness upon hearing his teacher’s words.

“I will let them know, we’ll be ready in no time,” he answered.

“Great, I’ll be back soon.” Said Akihiko as he headed back.

Seishiro shouted “Where to?” But before getting an answer, the teacher vanished into nowhere.

He knocked on the door, once, twice, and just as his worry started taking over, Miss Asahi opened the door and filled him with relief. She invited him in—an invitation he refused on the spot.

He composed himself and bid her the last farewells. He instructed her to the whereabouts of the money he was keeping; he asked her to sell the house and move out as soon as possible. He fled as fast as his manners allowed—Hayato Akihiko was not ready to face the tears he knew she would shed.

On his way back to the shrine, he eyed the starry sky.

Here am I losing yet another friend as I seek you.