A broken man and moonlight

Shinichi took cover behind one of the many shipping containers resting atop the abandoned ship. He kept his ears peeled, listening out for the footsteps of whoever approached.

“Careful.” He could hear a voice whisper in the distance.

He silently winced in pain, still cupping the open wound on his shoulder.

How could a mana shot that small pierce my skin? He pressed harder in hopes that the bleeding would stop, but the blood poured through his fingers.

He felt sick, dizzy, as if the world was spinning.

The hell's happening to me?

He could hear a pair of footsteps slowly getting closer, a voice ringing out.

“I see blood!”

He looped around the other side of the container, his sword at the ready. He peered around the corner, watching as the agent with the sword carefully stepped around it. Shinichi quickly snapped back around the corner, rushing toward the man and plunging his sword through his body. They both fell to the floor, the man gurgling and shouting. Shinichi attempted to keep his mouth closed, but it was for naught.

The sound of several more footsteps quickly rushed toward him, and in a moment of desperation, he pulled his sword from the man's flesh, fleeing as far as possible.

He could hear multiple voices clamoring behind him.

“Damn it, he got the drop on him.”

“We need to keep looking, stay close.”

The shipping containers grew fewer in number, the walkway became narrower, and the sea became more visible. The moonlight bounced off the gentle waves, appearing like beautiful crystals.

The footsteps got louder, and with nowhere left to run, he turned to face his attackers.

He kept his hand clamped tightly over his shoulder-wound, his grip around his sword growing looser. The wound began to bleed more profusely, his vision blurring.

One of the men held his hand outward, gentle blue light gathering at his fingertip. Shinichi, on instinct, raised his sword, the blue bullet crashing into his blade and bouncing off it. Before he could react, another bullet of blue struck his chest, and then he felt it on his leg. Blood poured endlessly from all his open wounds, and his vision became more blurry. He could feel himself stumble back, a strange sensation welling in his stomach as he began to fall.

Then he met something hard, his body being consumed by a cold-stinging sensation. The world slowed down as water rushed into his ears and nostrils, his blood mixing in with the twilight ocean that consumed him. The moon shone brightly upon him as he sank further and further, his arm reaching outward, hoping that something would pull him up. Then everything went dark.

When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting on a park bench, a cup of steaming coffee held between his freezing hands.

“Really? That’s awesome!” A high-pitched voice spoke from beside him.

He turned to his side, taking notice of the person sitting beside him. He was dressed in a heavy jacket, a red beanie atop his blonde hair, his blue eyes staring into his own with glee.

He winced, holding his head.

“Is something the matter, Shinichi?” The man spoke with worry.

“Yeah, I think I was having a dream.”

“Really? What about?”

“I can’t really remember.” He answered, the pain slowly subsiding. “What were we just talking about?”

“You getting accepted into the Takeba group!” The man answered with enthusiasm.

“Oh, that’s right!” Shinichi stood with equal excitement. “How could I forget about something like that?”

The man stood beside him, hands behind his back, “That’s super cool! You get to be a hero!” He smiled.

“It’s all thanks to you, Amato. I would have never signed up if not for you.” A slight blush played on his face.

“I can’t take all the credit!” Amato waved his hands in a bashful gesture, “It’s cause you’re so strong.” He yelped, feeling Shinichi wrap him into a tight embrace, pecking him on the cheek.

“Thank you, seriously.” He closed his eyes, basking in Amato's warmth. When he didn’t receive a response, he pulled away, reopening his eyes.

Everything around him changed. Amato was still before him, but something was different. His head began to throb with pain once more, and he could feel his lungs start to burn. Memories in which he’d forgotten ran rampant through his mind, images of Amato flashed hundreds of times, a single word ringing in his head over and over again. “Protect. Protect. Protect.” And then, everything stopped at once. The world was engulfed in white, and Amato stood silently.

“What is happening to me?” He held his head in an attempt to subdue the pain, and finally it stopped.

Bright colors started to paint the white canvas that was the surrounding world, warm heat encapsulating him, the sound of clamoring coming from nowhere. Chairs and tables formed around them, and the smell of seasonings overwhelmed.

“Is it good?” Amato giggled, his long blonde hair drooping down as he knelt forward, trying to get a good look at Shinichi’s face.

“Huh?” Shinichi muttered in response. 

“The food? Is it good? You took one bite and went silent on me there.”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry, I’ve just got a bad headache all of a sudden.” He silently winced, looking down at the bowl of ramen beneath him.

“Mine's kinda spicy.” Amato stuck his tongue out, panting like a dog.

“I told you to get the mild.” Shinichi pointed at him with his chopsticks.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes, going in for another bite before clearing his throat. “So, about this top secret assignment you were telling me about.”

“Not so loud, Amato.” He looked around, making sure no one else was listening in. “The higher-ups in the Takeba group want me to be a part of some program, a research program, I guess. They haven’t told me much about it, not yet, but apparently they’re working to change the world.”

“That sounds much cooler than the stuff I deal with. If I were strong like you, we could be working together.”

“You’re strong in your own way.”

“You always say that, but I wish I were strong the way you are, to be able to protect people.”

Shinichi felt a sudden ringing bounce through his skull, lurching forward in pain. His lungs began to burn once more, the world turning white.

More memories broke through the dam of his mind, and another word seemed to appear endlessly.

“Sacrifice. Sacrifice. Sacrifice.”

The white was painted over once more, a much darker and colder scene spreading around him. It was a cold night, the moon full, wind silently wisping by. He sat at a park bench, a cigar in his mouth, with Amato at his side.

“Sacrifices must be made.” He stated.

“There has to be another way. All those innocent people shouldn’t have to die.” Amato was on the brink of crying.

“Innocent people die every day. At least with this, we have the opportunity to start changing that.” He responded harshly.

“When did you start thinking about human life like some tool? How would you feel if it were me instead? Would you be willing to sacrifice me for the sake of the Takeba group's goal?” He stood, hands balled at his sides.

“That’s different, and you know that.”

“Do I?” his breath projected in front of him in a cloud of mist. “What makes me so different from all the others that died?”

“I-I.” Shinichi stammered, “It just is. You wouldn’t get it, you aren’t in my position!”

“Damn right I wouldn’t get it! I thought you were better than this, Shinichi. I didn’t take you for a coward.” He turned away, stomping off.

“Amato! Wait!” He too stood, calling after him with an extended arm. “You can’t tell anyone about this, if they find out I told you-”

“You won’t have to worry about that.” He cut him off with a harsh and cold tone. “I guess you would sacrifice me.” He stated, disappearing into the night.

His head began to ring with much more intensity than the previous two times, his vision blurring as he fell to his knees.

The world turned white, and once he’d raised his head, he could see Amato. He was different, his eyes were dead, and his feet didn’t touch the floor of the white void beneath them. He wore no clothes except for a black cloth around his crotch, waving around in wind that didn’t exist. A noose was tied around his neck and connected to something invisible; four more ropes tied around his bruised wrists and ankles.

“A-Amato?” He stammered, slowly standing. “What happened to you?”

“I am not Amato. I appear to you in a form you find familiar and comforting. I am your other self, your weapon, the manifestation of your soul. You can call me Ixtab.” His mouth didn’t move; however, he could hear his voice ringing endlessly in his mind. “Your time is running thin; you will die having lived an incomplete life full of regrets and broken promises.” He stated harshly.

“What? I don’t understand what’s happening!”

“Close your mouth and listen. I am your weapon, but you cannot wield me in your current state. Quickly ask yourself, if given a second chance, what would you do?”

Shinichi stood in silence, his mind flashing to Himeno and Amato.

“Good. You want to change things, to make things different. You are unhappy with the way you are. I can give you the change you so deeply desire, the ability to cast away your cowardice, to evolve beyond what you once were. In exchange, you must give me everything.” It spoke calmly, raising its hand and gesturing for him to take it.

“Everything?” Shinichi repeated.

“You have forty-eight more years left in your natural lifespan. Sacrifice forty-six of those years, and in return I will give you the power to change, to protect those you wish to protect, to fulfill your true purpose.”

He thought about Himeno again, then Amato, then the funeral of his previous partner. The sound of wailing, the looks of grief, the guilt, the fear.

“My purpose.” He mumbled, taking a firm step toward the fake Amato. “I don’t want to be a coward anymore, I don’t want to see that pain, I don’t want to keep hiding from the truth.” He clasped his hand tightly around his, looking into fake Amato's dead eyes. “You can take everything, and in exchange, I’ll change everything.”

It closed its eyes with a content smile, the white world around them going dark, the sound of bubbling growing louder.

“Then say my name, and you can change the world.”

|

“You think he’s dead?” The three remaining agents stood over the body of water, examining the dark red that blended into the twilight.

“It’s been a good minute; he’s definitely dead.” The woman with the knuckle-dusters added. “We should get back to Agent Moore as quickly as possible.”
They began to retreat, leaping from the ship.

“Wait!” One of the agents called, holding a hand in the air. He turned back toward the ship, the sound of silent creaking growing ever louder.

“What is that?” He asked.

“Your imagination.” Another answered.

Then it grew louder, like the whining of a whale. The ship began to rattle and shake, tipping to the side, the containers atop it falling into the ocean as it was lifted into the air.

They looked onward, almost mesmerized by the sight before them. A giant made of water stood tall, and the ship was held up in the air. It had no head, and at the center of its chest was Shinichi, staring calmly at the agents.

“Holy shi-”