Night Fall

When I think back as far as I can, one of my oldest memories is being afraid of the dark. That mysterious blackness that absorbs the world when night falls. I would have nightmares about what lurked there.

In my memories, I can hear a woman. Comforting me, lifting me up, she tells me:

"Don't fear the night. The night is your friend. The night is special because it shows what the sun is too afraid to shed light on."

As I grew older, the gap between day and night also grew shorter. Once, staying awake until midnight felt like breaking a boundary, like I had started to conquer the yawning chasm that lied between dusk and dawn, the chasm that sleep allowed me to cross.

Eventually, these lapses and skips extended into my life as well. Disconnects, missing fragments. I lost my parents at some point, but even that became yet another point of insignificance. Something within me wanted the voice that I heard in my most distant memory to be my mother.

One part of me that I was never allowed to forget was my skill with a sword. From the moment I became aware of it, it was how I was valued. The man that adopted me after I became an orphan told me as much, or at least, the person that represented him passed on that message.

My adoptive father never spent any time with me personally. He communicated everything he wanted to say to me via his subordinate, who acted as my caretaker. Some would say, from the way he treated me, I was more like his ward, or perhaps even his treasure. The only time I ever saw my 'father' was the day I was adopted, and despite that, I can't recall his face nor do I know his name. There was always this feeling that I received from his actions, one that implied that his separation from me was intentional.

Of the many things that my caretaker told me when acting as a mouth for my 'father' was the importance of my family. My biological father, Nagito Hoshizuna as they called him, was an accomplished swordsmith. However, it was my mother that was always mentioned in passing, or as my caretaker said, 'your father speaks of her often'.

He never truly divulged much to me about who she was, but from the bits and pieces that were shared with me, I discovered that she was a martial artist of some sort, and went by the name 'Tei'. I knew this because whenever I struggled in my training or did something he deemed 'unbecoming', he would use her as a point of comparison.

I should mention that my caretaker's name was Nagisa-san. She was obedient, quiet, and did her best to avoid developing an attachment to me. Based on things I picked up from being with her, I could see that she would sometimes have to change clothes or would pass me by carrying bags of groceries that were not intended for me, so I had the suspicion that she was more than just my caretaker.

I spent most of my time being trained by Nagisa-san in swordplay. I never knew much of the reason why I was doing it, but at that age, I didn't question it. I had a feeling it was something to do with my parents. Outside of that, because of how busy Nagisa-san would end up being, I had to learn to entertain myself. Find humour and enjoyment in my everyday life, play with dolls and live out the life I dreamed of through them. But, of course, it was empty. A plastic life. When it ended, I was still the same.

During my last year of high school, I took on a part-time job as a pizza delivery girl. It was here that I learned that tying up my hair was what allowed it to stay out of the way of my work. Using the money I earned from my job, as well as a loan from my 'father', I was able to move out and live in my own apartment. I finally had my own situation, outside of the influence of other people. I had a job. I had independence. But I couldn't help but feel something was missing. The days where I would come home from an especially taxing shift and collapse in my bed, time would blend together, and one day would lead to the next as if there were nothing between them.

I couldn't tell you for certain when or how I died. I think it was quite an insignificant event. But the reason I don't remember for certain is most likely because it happened at night. When I was asleep.

My first memory after that is waking up on that hospital bed. I'm sure that's a memory that you and I share, Beryl. Placing my hand on my chest and trailing the ridge of my surgery scar, I sat in that fragile hospital-like room as the fading light of the sunset trickled through the windows and something dawned on me.

I wasn't a human anymore. A mechanical object had invaded and taken over my body. I was heartless.

This is where my memory of waking up in the bed differs from yours. Anya never told me who gave me my RepliCor. There was no way that she wouldn't know, unless they did it through a different channel or used a proxy, so as far as I was concerned, she, perhaps even on the orders of Minamoto, was hiding it from me. But I never contested that decision. If they were, it was for a reason.

I started to dye my hair not long after this. Not only because, now that my old life had been shattered before my eyes, I could do as I pleased within reason, but also because it was one of the dreams I'd had as a child. One of my action figures had blue hair, and I'd always wanted to see how it looked on me. That one was my favourite, so naturally, I felt like a new, evolved person when I saw myself in the mirror.

But 

It wasn't much longer after that I received a request. It was an assassination request. I couldn't process it. There was someone asking me to kill someone, for money, as if it were as simple as running an errand. I'd never wielded my sword for anything other than practise, but... there was something inside me that was disturbingly curious. A sword-wielding demon that wanted to be recognised, that wanted all of the training I went through for seemingly no purpose to mean something. Seeing that the targets were criminals put me somewhat at ease, as if it somehow made what I was doing better. My first target went by the name 'Blood Berry' among his Yakuza peers. To me, it was a name from a video game. A boss character. Someone with a name like that lifted the guilt from me.

The money was just a stepping stone. The plastic life that I lived inside my room, inside my mind, I wanted to make that real. And 'father' had shown me that money could make such things happen.

When I told Minamoto about it, she told me that assassination missions were acceptable, but I would have to gain an unofficial rank in return. I would have to wear a black shirt. At first, it concerned me, but she said that only those in the know would understand the meaning of the shirt colour, and my comrades would have no knowledge of the connection.

But I was starting to let go. I didn't care anymore. There was nobody left that I had to keep up appearances for. I wasn't a human anymore, so it didn't matter if I were to become a monster instead. The night demon would make sacrifices so that the Hoshizuna of the day, untarnished, could reap the rewards.

But little did I know that the first request would be the one that weighed on me the most. The man known as Blood Berry. His real name was Akaji Kondou, and as I learned later, even the name 'Akaji' was a moniker. The fact that this man was as much a person as anyone else became viscerally clear when his son arrived on the island one day, without warning, and came metres from taking my life. If you could call it that. His eyes burning with rage and despair. I could never forget them. It's why I still can't look at him.

The night became my shelter. It was where I did my work. The cycles that passed by, switching between light and dark, became routine. I even became apathetic to the fact that I had almost been killed as a result. To be specific, the me of the night became numb to it. As if to torment me, Minamoto kept Akaji's son as my handler. She called it a punishment, but I couldn't tell to whom she was addressing that. I came to known the son as Tsubaki.

Yet I couldn't bring myself to accept who I was at night during the day. The more time I spent with my colleagues, the more I wanted to hide my blood-soaked sword in a box under my closet. Tsubaki's presence was the one that most strongly influenced my desire to hide it. Before, I was able to keep my two lives separate. But with him around, there lived a constant reminder of my double life, and it began to sicken me. I even went to the length of using two different swords, one for Leviathans and practise, and another for assassinations. I couldn't bear to face it.

I know that one day you will meet the real Hoshizuna. It's why I'm telling you this. So that, when the time comes, you'll understand. Or it might just be me indulging myself, as if explaining my situation to you will somehow make me worthy of forgiveness. But don't be fooled. I'm not owed an ounce of that.

---

Ever since the first time I met Reika Hoshizuna, I had spoken to her during the day. Originally, I had wanted to assume she was an early sleeper, it suited her hard-working attitude after all. But there were many things I wanted to assume about her. Many things I would rather have believed than the things I had seen and been told. So it was somewhat comforting when she invited me to her room one evening for, as she called it, 'stargazing'.

A door on the far side of the room slid open, and it revealed a small balcony. Out there, with her hair fluttering alongside the curtains, was Hoshizuna.

"Hi, Beryl."

"I, uh, was it too early to read the letter?"

"No, no, it doesn't really matter when you read it. To be honest I just sat down last night and wrote whatever came to me. It's not like it's crafted or anything. The truth isn't often neat like that."

"Y-Yeah..."

"Why don't you come outside? I invited you here for a reason after all."

"The best thing about being on an isolated island is the lack of light pollution. You don't see stars like this in Tokyo."

"Stargazing was actually the first thing I tried to help me get used to the night. When I was too afraid to sleep at night, I would walk out into the hallway and sit on the veranda and look at the stars. I started asking for books on astrology as, each time, I wondered if those tiny little lights up there in the sky were there for any sort of reason. I learned about all of these... weird mythological associations that these silly little humans were giving them. It showed me that, even when our ancestors were struggling to survive in the harshest time of day, at their most vulnerable, they still looked up."

"I was scared of the dark too. Where I lived, there were no streetlamps outside, so I couldn't sleep unless I had the comfort of the bedside lamp. It was only when I got older that I realised, in reality, the lamp wasn't doing much at all. It was like a placebo."

"Maybe the stars were like that for me too. But the stars were more real to me."

"I was interested in stars, but I guess my interest was made to be more scientific. I learned about their life cycles and about nuclear fusion in school and in college. It's awkward to say but... right before I died, I actually said I was jealous of them."

"Pff, really? I think I can see where you're coming from though. In a way, the constellations were humans accepting that they were nothing like stars. That the stars could only be divine in nature. Even though we know what they are now, like what you learned, it doesn't mean we've lost any of that jealous admiration for them."

"I see... that's... actually pretty fascinating."

Time rolled past, with Hoshizuna resting her head on her palm as she gazed out at the stars. As much as I tried to integrate myself into the relaxed atmosphere, I couldn't forget the words I'd heard at the shrine that day.

"To kill Reika Hoshizuna."

I could no longer wait in uncertainty. I had to ask her.

"Hoshizuna, is it... is it true? About... Tsubaki's father. I've already heard it, of course, but..."

"I'm... I'm sorry you had to find out like this. But after what's happened recently, I just don't think it's worth hiding anymore. I'll understand if you hate me. But I really am a monster. The darkness is the best place for me. I'm thinking that, after we finish the return mission to Unahara Robotics, I'll quit."

"You'll quit the assassinations?"

"No. I don't know if I can manage that. What I meant was I'll quit Anahata. I'll go full assassin. It's best you guys know soon. I was raised to wield a sword, and my skin is too stained with blood for me to wipe the slate clean."

"What about Tsubaki?"

"...I'll find my own way to atone for that."

---

Hoshizuna waved goodbye to me as we both prepared to sleep, already having extended our sleep schedules late into the early morning. Before I was able to fully draw the door to a close, she asked me one final question.

"So... what did you think of the letter?"

"Hm? But...

It was blank."

---

It was true. Even though I'd made up my mind, I still couldn't bring myself to tell Beryl. In accepting who I had become, I also accepted that I was too weak to be anything else. Even hours after Beryl left the room, squeezing my eyes shut, rolling back and forth in my futon, I couldn't manage it. I was tired of pretending to sleep.