Man of My Word

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Note: Attempted Suicide Warning
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     For the following month, Wraith left Izumi to his own devices, as he began to grow closer and closer to Fuhiro to the point that their conversations exceeded past the topic of games, treading into a much deeper one regarding their lives and upbringing.

Six years ago, Fuhiro was disowned by his parents the moment he finished high school, making him 24 now, Izumi being his elder by three years. They didn’t approve of his decision to play competitively for a living, believing that no one could ever make a stable living off of games, and that anyone who didn’t attend a university was doomed for life. Luckily for Fuhiro, he made enough money from part time jobs enough for him to get a small apartment in the suburbs.

It didn’t take long for his skill in the field to gain recognition as even before he was on his own, he secretly practiced playing in arcades, lying to his parents and stating that he was working or studying. Even when he played competitively, he didn’t have too many friends, and even less after the incident, making him more grateful for Izumi’s presence than he realized.

Progressively, Fuhiro began to struggle financially, since he no longer had an income and he spent the majority of his money at the arcade, but it was his way of escaping from reality. He couldn’t handle the truth of his actions, and while his friendship with Izumi grew closer, he became washed over with unparalleled guilt. How come he was allowed to live and walk the streets while she had to die? The only thing Fuhiro had to lose in his life was his purpose for living: the game he so passionately played.

On the other hand, Toshiko had more of a purpose in life. She was at the age of opportunity, only being 19, and there were many paths ahead of her, which Fuhiro brought to a halt. She had a loving family, unlike Fuhiro, and they would mourn her death, and mourn the fact that they will never receive closure on who committed the murder. Cracks would start to appear in his mask as self-condemnation and penitence drowned him, until finally, he invited Izumi out to a park one fateful night.

     The park was rarely visited, especially at night, since it was a little outside of the city. As such, only the two resided inside. Izumi was both jittery and tense from this strange request by Fuhiro, and the way he spoke lately was of even greater concern. For once, he contemplated calling upon Wraith, but he had already made it this far and he wasn’t about to let Wraith possibly interfere and cause him to lose his confession. Tape recorder in his pocket, Izumi listened to what Fuhiro had to say.

“Thank you for accepting my selfish request, I know you work all day, so it’s hard for you.”

Izumi reassuringly shakes his head. “No, no, don't worry about it! You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yea...about that…” Fuhiro clearly looks anxious, his nerves over the roof. “The reason that I stopped playing competitively...I…” 

Izumi listened intently, putting his worries aside, wondering if it was finally the moment he had been waiting for.

After an excruciatingly lengthy pause, Fuhiro tries to recompose himself and try again. “Toshiko Eri, I’m sure you’ve heard of her. She had accused me of assault and I couldn’t do anything but watch as the one thing I had left was taken from me. And I-I-” His voice began to match the quiver of his body, the words pouring out of his mouth in the moment, “I killed her, I don’t know what came over me I just couldn’t bear it and I followed her when she went on a run at night and I killed her, I-I-”

As though finally realizing the weight of his actions, Fuhiro breaks down into a wave of tears. Despite the fact that Izumi has been awaiting his confession since the moment they met, he still isn’t sure how to react, only watching Fuhiro as he sobbed, coming to the realization that Fuhiro kept his hands in his sweater’s pocket the entire time when it was far too late.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Fuhiro lifted himself from the bench and drew a hidden firearm, directing it at Izumi, who instinctively stood up and retracted, yet through this hasty sequence he scrambled to put his spiking terror aside and immediately tried to calm him down before he can act, but to no avail.

“Fuhiro-”

Breaking off Izumi’s words, Fuhiro attempts to plead his true sentiment through his waterfall of tears, “Izumi, I’m really grateful, truly. I- realize now, what I have to do. It’s like what you said, isn’t it? Life will always beat you down, so what’s the point of living? Don’t worry, I’ll join you shortly. Thank you, for everything...”

As his finger pulled the trigger back, Izumi had only one thought, one name, which emerged in his mind. Before he could complete the thought, a crimson robe draped his view, accompanied by the thunderous burst of a gunshot. The robe didn’t have time to rest as his movements were conducted in a flash, disarming the now panicked and disoriented Fuhiro and pinning him to the floor, knocking him unconscious. Rising from the ground, the gradient haired man kicked the firearm to the side, away from the criminal, with Izumi still trying to register the swift events that unfolded.

“Geez, and here I was wondering why your heart rate was faster than a stampede. I decide to stop by to check on you and you nearly get yourself killed!!! What happened to calling me?!” Even Wraith is a bit shaken, but more so at the possibility of losing Izumi than anything else, which he would rather die himself than admit.

“I was in the midst of doing so-”

“A little too late don’t you think?” Wraith runs his fingers through his hair, trying to destress. “Ugh, look, it’s fine, not really, but can’t change the past. You got your confession?”

With the close miss of death’s hand, Izumi takes a moment to finally breathe before responding, “Yea, although I’ll have to think about how I’m supposed to explain how I didn’t die,” he shivers, still bewildered, imagining the outcome if Wraith wasn’t there.

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” With a wave of his hand, Wraith’s appearance changes, his outfit becoming that of a police officer, his hair black rather than a gradient, and both of his eyes royal blue rather than mismatched. “I’ll just use magic to make them believe I’m an officer, and I happened to be in the area and saved you. The get-up is just so I don’t have to put more magic in than I already have to.”

“I imagine this’ll cost me…?”

“I should honestly charge you just for the fact that you nearly DIED because you didn’t decide to call me sooner, but honestly I’m too relieved to even be upset so it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Wraith sighs heavily, still distraught at the thought.

     The pair takes the unconscious Fuhiro to the nearest police station, Wraith using magic to make the public disregard anything that could possibly seem suspicious, while the firearm and tape recorder were submitted as evidence. Both Wraith’s and Izumi’s testimony of the event were taken, the whole affair taking longer than Wraith would usually care to bear, making him begin to regret not fining Izumi. Although saving his life would always be free of charge, Wraith still couldn’t stand the meticulous nature of human affairs, especially regarding the law. 

The two were brought in a few times after the fact for more clarification, but soon enough, they were left alone, at least by the law. In comparison, the press still tried to get Izumi to crack whenever they would find him on the streets, with Wraith eventually having to enchant the public into leaving Izumi and himself alone. After the fact, Wraith changed back his appearance once more and spent the subsequent days with Izumi, as in reality, he was worried about him, but he didn’t care to admit it, even through Izumi pestering him about his strange lingering presence.

Kanae and Eiji were both equally frightened upon the news, nearly dropping to a heart attack, yet they settled on scolding him for getting himself into such a dangerous situation, ignoring the fact that Wraith was more than your average bodyguard and ghost. 

Izumi spent the days following Fuhiro’s arrest writing, but something seemed off to him as his heart wasn’t in the words. As he was writing one day, Wraith lay on the bed beside Lala, and although Izumi side eyed him every now and then, he grew to trust that Wraith would stand by his word, considering the heartfelt remorse he had regarding the incident with Eiji, who he eventually apologized to as well albeit through gritted teeth.

“Wraith? Are you asleep?” Izumi paused from his article in-progress, turning the desk chair to face Wraith.

“If I was, I’m not anymore. What’s up?” His eyes were in fact closed, but he wasn’t really trying to sleep. Wraith, feeling tension in the air, decided to sit up and give his full attention to Izumi, while Lala was still sleeping beside Wraith.

“How should I put this…” Izumi looked down, distress written across his face as he resorted to his usual nervous antics as silence filled the air before he ultimately continued, “Did I do the right thing?” He finally utters, gazing upwards at Wraith.

Unexpectedly, Wraith found himself unsure how to approach the question, as for the first time in a while, he finally cared about giving the correct advice. “....I think you did.” He scratches his head, trying to fish for the right words. “Listen, Izumi. I’ve seen a lot of things in my long lifetime, and if there’s one thing I can say for certain, it’s that nothing can so easily be divided into two opposing categories. Take that politician I told you about, the one who made a deal with me to cover up his bribery allegations. Sure he did some despicable things, but he still was a good father and husband at the end of the day. So, essentially I robbed his wife of both her husband and child, while on the other hand, the world lost one of many corrupt politicians. I guess what I’m trying to say is...nothing you do will ever be one hundred percent correct.”

“But I...what makes me different from Toshiko? She tried to use Fuhiro for her own gain, aren’t I doing the same thing?”

Wraith adjusts, sitting on the edge of the bed in order to close the distance between himself and Izumi. “Not at all. She falsely accused him of a severe crime and had no shame for her actions, while you sought to have him atone for the crime he committed after the fact. If you think about it that way, then aren’t all journalists profiting off of the suffering of others? In fact, anyone involved in the system is. The police get paid one way or another, whether the person was fully innocent or fully guilty, or in the middle, like Fuhiro; people who are one of many unfortunate souls who got caught in the wedges of the world. Hell, even the mourning family gains something: media coverage, and in some cases, genuine profit. Yet due to the severe nature of losing a loved one, no one points it out. No matter how you look at it, no one is free of criticism.” Wraith sighs. “At least, to put it into simple terms, I’d say you’re the least guilty in this situation. You gave her family–no–the city closure as to what occurred. Nothing frightens people more than a loose criminal, no matter how forlorn they are. And…” 

He finally stands from the bed, warmly ruffling Izumi’s hair, he full heartedly smiles with great reassurance. “You saved Fuhiro from himself. Despite how unforgiving the world can be, I think it’s always worth living, or else, I would’ve let the hundreds of thousands of enemies that I have tear me to pieces a long time ago. So, keep your head up, Izumi.”

Through Wraith’s hand, Izumi feels an unexpected sensation, one that he hardly believed Wraith capable of conveying. Comfort. Izumi lay his hand on top of Wraith’s, absorbing the tenderness before lifting his head and, from the bottom of his heart, uttering, “Thank you.”