Chapter Text
Once upon a time, in a remote village surrounded by vast fields and forests lived a young and bright carpenter's son. Having just reached adulthood recently, he was the jewel of his family and was destined to inherit his father's workshop and stellar reputation.
Though small, the village formed a tight-knit community over its long existence and had prevailed through countless hardships by upholding tradition and supporting one another in their rough day-to-day lives.
One would think that dedication, love for one's family and hard work would be the only things needed to achieve a happy life in a place like this.
However, as is sometimes the case, not everybody was cut out for simple country life. Among the men, who would grow up to be farmers, artisans and hunters to support their own budding families, the timid carpenter's son Tsujinaka Yoshiki was silently fighting a losing battle with himself.
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Watchful eyes follow every delicate movement of the thin and striped front legs weaving a shimmering thread and guiding it along the unfinished web. As he shifts from one leg onto another and props up the leather-bound notebook on his knee, the tiny creature stills and lifts up four of its legs into the air.
“Araneidae…” Yoshiki's pencil swiftly scratches lines into the paper. He's truly mesmerized by this hostile stance the spider adopted as soon as his face got a little too close.
“Araneus diadematus…” How desperately he wishes to take a picture of the specimen instead of having to draw it. But he does enjoy becoming engrossed in that process quite a bit, too. Only problem is that with cross spiders in particular, getting a good look at their tiny round eyes can be tricky, lord knows he's tried with a few others now..
Slowly, he reaches his hand closer and closer towards the arachnid's plump body, one fairly large for its kind. Almost…he can almost feel those tiny sticky leg hairs pressing into his fingertips.
“YOSHIKI! FATHER IS LOOKIN’ FOR YOU!”
He drops his hand and sighs deeply, then accidentally shuts his notebook so hard that the spiderweb begins to vibrate from the air the impact creates. Standing up, he quickly fixes his hair before jogging back to the house.
“He's inside. You're not in trouble, I think he's got somethin’ to tell ya though…”
How ominous. The short girl standing in the doorway looks to be just as clueless as he is. She's wearing an apron and her short hair is tied back.
“Alright…Kaoru, can ya hold onto this for a bit?” He lifts up the notebook, but she just shakes her head.
“Am cooking with mom, sorry. Oh, I know, I'll just put it with the cookbooks!”
He smiles at her weakly. “Thanks.”
As expected, he finds his father inside the workshop adjacent to their house. His father is a man of tall and imposing stature, but his personality couldn't be further from that, Yoshiki thinks. He tends to speak very little and when he does, it's usually somewhat self-pitying or about something Yoshiki cares little about. Even though they spend so much time together working, he and his father don't have much to talk about besides woodwork.
“You were lookin’ for me.”
“Mhm. I have somethin’ I need you to do for me today. It's a bit different from the usual.”
Yoshiki is barely listening. His eyes wander down the row of small wooden figurines he sometimes carves for his sister Kaoru in his free time. But she's getting a little old for them now.
“There's someone I want you to meet. Her name's Yasaborou Rika, the teacher's daughter.”
“I already know her from back in school. What about her?” That monotone question finally gets his father to look at him directly.
“Son. It's a rendezvous. You should get dressed,” he states dryly, sucking all the air out of Yoshiki's lungs.
From that point on, until he's shoved outside the front door with a basket and a bouquet in hand, Yoshiki is trapped in a dense fog. The cold water dripping down the flower stems, then his hand and onto the flat cobblestone street eventually brings him back to the present moment.
Date. With a girl. In 15 minutes. By the old oak tree near the river. Arranged by both his father and hers. His legs move robotically down the road, but he slowly starts breathing normally again the closer he gets to his destination. Or maybe not . As he pictures Yasaborou Rika in his mind, he sort of feels a little sick. Though he quickly realizes how rude that thought is and instead tries to imagine himself sitting next to her on the dry rocks near the water. It all looks very wrong and distorted in his mind though.
“Hey!”
“H-Hey…”
Him and Rika are face to face with each other. Her long brown hair is carefully braided into a short, detailed hairstyle and she's wearing a beautiful, form-fitting orange dress. Yoshiki didn't remember her looking so grown up and…womanly. Really, she looks much more mature than on their graduation day. Yoshiki thinks he himself hasn't changed one bit.
“So…are we sitting over there?”
She points to a wooden table and benches near the thick old oak tree. Those are always here, it's a pretty nice spot in the summer, but Yoshiki hadn't ever envisioned himself coming here with a girl. Really, he had never thought that he'd ever take a girl anywhere .
He places down the basket and sits across from her. Rika smiles at him with shiny white teeth and crinkled eyes. Their color resembles that of the tall grass around the little seating area.
“You brought flowers! Thank you, Yoshiki!”
“O-Oh yeah…here you go.” He already feels weird being on a first name basis with her.
“Ah– I love alliums! How'd you know?”
“Hah..well…I just know the best flowers…or maybe I just remembered your favorite.” A blatant, not very confident lie.
Yoshiki doesn't know a single thing about what flowers anyone likes. He rarely remembers people's interests if they're not part of his immediate family.
“Hah, that's funny. Hey, so I brought this–”
She presents a sweet smelling strawberry cheesecake. Yoshiki stares at it with an open mouth and wide eyes. But he's not surprised in a good way, seeing as there's no worse food to him than sugary treats.
“Hehe…trust me, this one's the best! It's my grandma's recipe!” She claps her hands excitedly and strains her neck to get a look at his basket. “So? What do you got in there?”
Yoshiki actually doesn't know either. But he doesn't say that out loud..out of his basket comes their finest tea set, a steaming teapot and an assortment of fresh fruits cut up neatly in advance. Finally something edible, he thinks. And definitely prepared by his mom and Kaoru.
“Perfect! Let's chat while we eat. If I'm honest, it feels kinda weird to see you again under these…ahem..circumstances.”
Her smile is somewhat strained, which confuses Yoshiki. Up until now, he had just sort of assumed this date thing had been her idea from the start. He thinks it's better not to ask, but perhaps they had both been forced into this…if that's the case, maybe this would go over smoothly and quickly.
“Yeah…”
He looks away. There's many colorful bugs humming and dashing through the air around him. He spots a particularly large dragonfly near the water's edge. But the clinking of porcelain forces him to focus on his date instead. Rika is putting down the tea set and plates. Maybe he should make himself useful, too.
Yoshiki stands up and lifts the teapot. He tilts it gently to pour her a cup, when suddenly something large and hairy drops onto his hand and makes him flinch back. Hot liquid sprays over the table and onto Rika's bare hand.
“Ouch! It's hot!!” She yells out and holds her aching hand close to her chest. Yoshiki almost drops the entire teapot in shock.
“I-I'm sorry! I didn't me–”
“EEEEK! WHAT'S THAT?!”
She screams even louder than before and wildly gestures at the hairy thing writhing next to her cup. Yoshiki grabs it without a care in the world. He examines it for a second, before presenting it with an enthusiastic grin.
“Arctia caja! It's a tiger moth caterpillar! Totally harmless, don't worry.” He smiles as he watches the little fluffball crawl along in his palm and looks over at the frightened Rika.
“Trust me, I know bugs. You…wanna hold it?”
“N-No way! That thing's gross! What if it bites me?” She shakes her arms in disgust.
“Ah…alright, I'll just– I'm putting it over here...” As Yoshiki leans down and places the caterpillar on a tree root, he finally allows for his face to fall into a frown.
He doesn't want to be here. He really, truly loathes this situation and he can't help but feel annoyed that his parents had felt the need to set this all up for him. The prepared food, the refusal to tell him until he couldn't back out anymore…it makes him feel so inadequate, like an utter disappointment.
Just why is it so important that he gets a girlfriend, anyway? He's only 19, he's doing everything else they ask of him like running errands, helping out the neighbors and giving up his dreams of the big city to continue working in his father's workshop. And still, it's not enough for them, just when he thinks he's done good they manage to come up with yet another thing that he lacks. But this time…this time Yoshiki fears this is an expectation he is unable to ever meet.
Relief washes over him as soon as he steps out of the summer heat and into the cool shade of the hallway. Their date had ended up going alright, awkward, but less horrible than he had imagined. Though it had felt a lot more like catching up with an old acquaintance than the romantic event it was supposed to be…
Fresh water and lunch, that's what he needs right now. But stepping into the kitchen, he sees what can only be described as a rare, highly out of the ordinary family assembly. Kaoru is by the sink drying off dishes, but his parents are sitting at the table together, an extremely unusual sight.
“Uh…hi everyone…” he greets, suddenly feeling unsure of himself. His father turns around, his expression a tired one.
“You're back. Sit down, there's more to talk about.”
“Kaoru, dear. Go feed the geese outside, alright?” His mom gives the girl a look, and she silently obliges.
Yoshiki suddenly feels very, very afraid. An intense uncomfortable excitement blooms in his stomach, it makes all of his organs twist and wind into a painful mishmash of anxiety. His father motions at him to sit down, so he does, positioned on his chair as stiff as one of the pieces of wood in the workshop.
“How was your arrangement with Yasaborou?” his mother asks. He tries to swallow, but his mouth and throat are as dry as a desert.
“Fine,” he says awkwardly. “She brought cake.”
His mother just sighs, exuding not so subtle disappointment. Father speaks up instead.
“Yoshiki…I hope you enjoyed Rika's presence.”
“Sure…? She was fine…” Yoshiki hates how no one in this family is ever able to just get to the point and say what they think…He's about to regret that thought.
“Good. Because we've arranged for you to marry her. She's your fiancée. The Yasaborous have already agreed to the engagement.”
Yoshiki's world stops.
All the color drains from his face and his hands and arms quickly go numb from the heat that's rapidly overflowing his nerve system. In the span of just a few seconds, Yoshiki goes from feeling somewhat ticked off with his parents to staring into a pit of total darkness and misery. The void clings to him, sealing his lips and preventing him from screaming out.
He can't make a single sound. No matter how badly he wants to yell at them “NO!”, there's nothing coming out at all.
Yoshiki's eyes are so unfocused that he can barely see his own hands down on the table's edge. He wants to move and run away from this conversation, but his legs seemingly aren't a part of his body anymore, because he can't feel nor see them. The ticking of the clock and the deep voice of his father become muffled and finally disappear completely, just like everything else around him, leaving only the gaping void.
“YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!”
It's what he wants to say to them. His entire being is screaming and pleading with him to protest, to do anything to reverse this decision. But deep down, in the rational part of his mind, Yoshiki knows all too well that he has no power over any of it. The parties involved had made up their minds long ago and all he needed to do to fulfill their expectations was to follow what they had chosen for him.
And maybe, possibly, if Yoshiki was born a different man in a different body, he would accept his fate at this moment. But Yoshiki is himself– the depressed, good for nothing, gay piece of shit loser of a son that his family hadn't asked for and would probably trade in for a better version if they could.
But no. They're all stuck like this. Making sacrifices and clipping each other wings if needed, to uphold the family image and traditions that help keep their rural village intact. Without such sacrifices, all hell would break loose. Yoshiki has never and will never be exempt from that for as long as he lives in this awful dump in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. There is no escaping this.
After a harrowing long hour spent screaming and arguing with his parents, they had eventually angrily sent him off to his room. He had never seen either of them so thoroughly furious with him, his mother's laissez-faire attitude completely melting away as she scorned him with hurtful words that cut deep into Yoshiki's self-image.
Although it had always been an unspoken thought of hers that Yoshiki had been long aware of, he had not expected her to openly compare him to his father in such a negative manner. Accusing them both of not giving a damn about the family's well-being, his mother had loudly dropped a plate on the floor. Whether it had been an accident or on purpose, in that moment Yoshiki had finally understood that they would not come out of this event as the same family they had been before.
The things all of them had said to each other could not be taken back, despite them now being nothing but a blur in Yoshiki's mind. They had not budged on their decision to marry him off. It will be made official in the coming days.
Yoshiki is packing the biggest bag he was able to find around the house. Choosing what clothes to take with him is perhaps the hardest part, but he decides on the one's with the most robust fabric that also provides the most warmth. Although the summer heat is dizzying during the daytime, he knows it might not be the same at night, in the cool shade of the forest he is about to enter for a while. Kindling, match boxes, two knives, some first-aid items and a rope. He's not quite sure he'll actually need all this, but…better to be safe than sorry. Lastly, he smashes his piggy bank and retrieves every last bit of cash from its remains. It's less than he had hoped for – but enough to buy himself some food in another town.
Running away from home, the only place he had ever known in his sheltered life…it feels daunting, but freeing as well. There's a harrowing fear growing in his chest, but it's not entirely bad, no. He feels strong, more independent than he ever had before in his life.
They call it the journeymen years, his father had told him many times. It's a curious tradition common not too far from here, a three year long period in which young craftsmen, particularly carpenters, live off of the bare minimum while accumulating life experience as they survive out in the world and do whatever job falls into their hands. Yoshiki hadn't thought he'd ever take on a journey like this, his parents most likely would never allow it if he asked, but now that his life is looking to be a bleak and hopeless one he might as well throw it all away for this.
…to say that running away in the middle of a random August night is a bit of an impulsive decision would be an understatement. Yoshiki certainly hadn't woken up that morning with the intent to abandon his family and simple village life just like that. But in his mind, he keeps convincing himself again and again that this isn't his fault. They are forcing his hand, truly, marrying him off just like that… he's convinced they would pay more money for a healthy young cow than their son's future. All because of his own inability to go out and find a girlfriend.
Well, guess what, he thinks to himself with spite as he closes the front door and takes long, quick steps down the empty road. Now you won't have to deal with me anymore.
Yoshiki had accepted this one absolute truth about himself years ago: He would never find a wife, because he would never date a woman. Not only does he find the idea of ending up with a family like his dad's horrifying, but he had never found himself attracted to the female body, not even during the years in which he had tried to be more normal .
Many nights he had laid awake, hoping and wishing that he could change for the better and meet his parents standards. Why him? Perhaps he had angered some divine entity in a past life, or it was just bad luck.
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Crickets chirp in the grass lining the wide forest path. It's a beautiful cloudless night, the only annoyance being the mosquitoes that occasionally whirr near his ears. Yoshiki has to force himself to focus on the way ahead instead of getting lost in the countless distant lights of the stars. A million different worlds are out there, so far out of his reach. But there must be a place for him somewhere on this earth, right? If there's not, then maybe this journey into the woods would be his last one.
As time passes and the darkness of night remains unchanged, Yoshiki catches himself momentarily nodding off, so he lights his lamp to combat the fatigue.
With determination, he keeps moving until he reaches an unknown fork in the road after another hour of walking. As he looks around, failing to spot any signs at all, he realizes that maybe this is not a decision he should be making with so little sleep. The forest around him has grown much quieter now, even the crickets and owls seemingly having gone to sleep. An eerie shiver overcomes him then, suddenly he feels much too aware of his vulnerability in this lonely place, where not a soul would hear him scream if he were to meet with danger. Swinging his lamp around himself, the tall, motionless trees tower over him like legs of giants, alive and breathing, but holding no judgment over him, simply watching his every move.
Despite knowing better, Yoshiki veers off the dirt path and lowers himself onto a patch of moss not covered by sticks and overgrown bishop-weed. It's not very comfortable, even as he wraps himself up in his thin blanket and uses his jacket as a makeshift pillow. Somehow, he eventually drifts off into an uneasy slumber.
…
summer sun your lovely shine singeth me a love song fine, pity is that it's not mine hence I hide from what's divine.
sinful is his fragile heart, easy to harm and discard, though we're dancing deep in bliss, not far off is the abyss.
screams that cross the firmament, they may soon spread their lament. blackened rose, the final call, scornful slash and petals fall.
some say luck some say it's fate, come to me don't make me wait. dim and grim that it shall be, love is like a poison tree, but if we somehow live through this we shall end it with a kiss.
…
Yoshiki shoots up and his eyes search the pitch-black darkness surrounding him. He can't see a thing, but there are sounds, the faint cracking of sticks breaking in the underbrush accompanied by a disembodied whisper. It's like the void is speaking to him, warning him of a threat that lurks nearby.
His instinct tells Yoshiki to grab his lamp and stand up. In his mind he runs through all the possibilities of what could possibly be watching him in the dead of night, just using the light of the moon. A bear would be the worst option, but they are not known for a silent approach. Slowly panicking, he finally lights a match and takes a breath of relief when orange light casts long, dark shadows into the forest.
There's absolutely no movement at first, until he sees them.
Unblinking yellow eyes reflect the light of his lamp. There are multiple pairs in the distance, moving slowly but in a calculated manner, gradually trapping him in their midst. Yoshiki doesn't dare let them out of his sight. When he leans down slightly to lift up his bag though, one of them immediately advances towards him, coming to a swift halt as soon as he stands tall again. An icy cold shiver runs down his back. He's being hunted .
A few tense seconds pass as he contemplates what the best move here would be. By now, Yoshiki thinks he knows who his mysterious pursuers are. A hungry pack of gray wolves has chosen him as their next kill.
Taking careful steps, he decides to walk sideways further into the forest. His eyes dart around rapidly trying to find any high point that he might be able to scale, but there's nothing he'd be able to climb. So he keeps moving backwards slowly, never taking his eyes off of the multiple yellow eyes. Noise, he needs to scare them off!
“SHOO! LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Deep down, as bramble clings to his pants and scratches his ankles, he is all too aware that his likelihood of survival in this situation is slim. They are already stalking him and all it takes is one fall or one misguided sprint and they'd be on top of him in no time. Yoshiki curses himself for being so stupid.
“Get away!! SHOO!! JUST LEAVE, DAMN IT…!”
He can barely think straight with how pumped full of adrenaline he is, but he hates himself for thinking that escaping his life would be so easy. He should've just stayed home. Back in the village, he would've married a woman and been miserable for the rest of his life, but at least he'd be alive . Now, he is confronted with the reality that he'll very likely face a gruesome, painful and slow death within the next few minutes.
Was it worth it? Running away just to have a taste of freedom for a few hours?
With intense focus, he keeps walking deeper into the forest, away from the path and away from safety as he yells and screams loudly. His eyes stay trained on the creatures that are now growling and becoming bolder in their approach, though the ones in the back seem to retreat.
He slides his knife into his hand, although he knows this won't help him against so many predators at once. With his back now against a tree, he glances around and still sees no escape. That's when the large animal in the front suddenly comes into view of his lamp and creeps up on him, baring its long, sharp teeth.
Yoshiki's unbearable fear betrays him at that moment. He leaps to the side and walks backwards too fast, next thing he knows he's losing his footing and falling into open space. The last thing he sees is the wolves charging at him, then his lamp disappears into the mess of plants all around him and darkness swallows him up.
He hits his head hard, his body folds over and over, dirt and roots scraping his face, a sharp pain digs into his cheek and a hard object narrowly misses his eye. But the fall doesn't stop here, it's as if he's tumbling further and further into nothingness. Yoshiki's body is mangled by trees and sharp rocks, but at least it's not teeth, no. The forest itself is tearing him open and punishing him for his small misstep.
He lands inside of a cold and freezing mass, so, so cold that it forces life back into him. Fueled by adrenaline and the shock of still being conscious, he picks himself up and runs for his life. He's running in thick snow still surrounded by tall trees, why is there snow in summ er, but there's no time to question any of this.
Yoshiki eventually comes to a stop and collapses onto a hard and flat surface once his energy finally runs out. Panting heavily, he breathes and waits for his heart to slow down, until he can feel his fingers growing dangerously numb in the snow. The endless white blanket over the forest makes the night appear unusually bright.
As he stands on wobbly legs and spits out dirt, a strange, impossible scenery unfolds in front of him. Nestled between unmoving pine trees is a castle , its towers and crenels reaching high into the dark blue night sky. His legs begin to move on their own, dragging his gravely injured body towards the grand structure.
No one is there to greet him at the open gates. A large, wooden door stands open, inviting him to enter. Whatever , Yoshiki thinks. His entire body aches and he knows there at least won't be any wolves in here. Nevermind the idea that maybe none of this is real and he's probably already passing on into the afterlife.
A singular candle is lit inside the empty entrance hall, swaying back and forth at the top of a wide flight of stairs, which he can barely make out. Yoshiki follows that light, but when he's reached the top, everything turns into a blur. He leans against the railing and slides down onto the stone cold floor.
Dust particles tickle Yoshiki's nose and he slowly becomes aware of a bone-deep chill that he cannot shake. Sunlight falls through a large window above the entrance, but its warmth only provides very little comfort, as it is only hitting his legs.
Yoshiki hadn't expected to see the sun again at all, though.
Last night's events come back like fractured memories of a horrible nightmare and he spends the next few minutes examining the injuries on his body. He's certain that the deep snow had helped to cushion his fall. But there are dried cuts and dark bruises covering his entire body. As he scrapes a piece of loose skin off his ankle, he realizes that he must've been incredibly lucky not to end up more injured than this. Though the real scale of the internal damage would only reveal itself if he starts walking around.
That's exactly what Yoshiki does next. He scans his unfamiliar surroundings carefully, pushing down the hunger and thirst for now. Dust covers every surface and spiderwebs litter the countless dark spots of the tall ceiling. He can see his breath in the air as he walks into a long, scarcely illuminated hallway.
This place is grand and beautiful in every sense of the word. The marble walls and floors still shine despite their obvious age, intricate and unique designs decorate each door, window and the various flower pots, in which old flowers wither away untouched. Everything about this place has Yoshiki in awe. It's like the palace of a king, yet here it lies abandoned and unused, prevailing eternally like a glacier. Being here feels forbidden. This place…is the opposite of inviting, yet it inexplicably draws him in.
He is almost near the end of the corridor, when a small but distinct sound makes him freeze on the spot. It's coming from the dark and narrow spiral staircase ahead, a soft plop plop plop plop repeating over and over until it reaches him.
A singular apple falls down the final step and silently rolls until it hits the tip of his shoe. Yoshiki stares as if it's just a phantom, but something, perhaps his persistent hunger, compels him to pick it up off of the carpeted floor. There is a bite already taken out of it. And Yoshiki is hit with sudden, overpowering fear.
He moves away faster from that staircase than he had imagined possible for his poor body. Still, he stuffs the fruit into his pocket and takes off as fast as he can muster. The marble walls have lost their shine and it's as if they're encasing him slowly, and he's still so far away from the entrance hall when he sees shadowy shapes moving in the corner of his eye. He tries to quicken his pace, straining his throat, pushing his hips to the limit despite painful jabs in his joints.
Whatever is following him, the presence reminds him far too much of those snarling wolves, who had been more than ready to rip him apart for consumption. Yet, despite the overwhelming terror in his bones he stops in his tracks and turns around when he reaches the end of the hallway.
A faint cackling sound echoes through the castle. Yoshiki thinks he might’ve imagined it, when it repeats more clearly after a few seconds, bouncing off of the cold marble. In the far distance he sees them – the unmistakable glow of a red, predatory gaze. Moving shadows spread out on the walls, approaching him with speed. Whatever this is, it's much taller than any wolf and Yoshiki is not waiting to meet it.
He runs as fast as he can down the wide stairs, then is faced with a split second decision: Go out into the snowy forest or hide somewhere inside the castle. He picks the latter option.
Yoshiki's hair sticks to his forehead with sweat as he dashes through another door, footsteps following closely behind him. He finds himself in another large and much brighter room. The longest table he's ever seen is in front of him, but there's no time to think about that and he keeps running, towards another door, hand almost wrapping around the handle–
A heavy, large object pierces the back of his head. Yoshiki can't hear or see, stumbling aimlessly and knocking into the sharp corner of that damned table. He lets out a painful scream and falls onto his back, smashing porcelain cups into a thousand bits and pieces. Rolling around in this mess, tiny shards burrow into his skin through his clothes, but Yoshiki couldn't care less about that.
Because over him stands a pale humanoid figure and it comes at him with the fury and physical prowess of a tiger. A painful, tight grip seals his ankle in place.
“Haha…outsider, just why did ya think wanderin’ into my abode was a good idea?! Haven't ya heard that there's a beast who craves the sweet taste of human flesh?”
It's an ordinary looking boy in torn clothes, seemingly close to him in age, although his voice sounds higher and much too upbeat. Yoshiki scrambles backwards as soon as the hand lets him go, but he realizes in horror that it was just a part of the stranger's cruel game. The person laughs wildly, sticking out his tongue and dragging long, blackened claws along the table cloth.
“Who're you?!! A demon!?”
Yoshiki moves back, but his eyes remain on the curved black horns growing out of white, messy curls. The young man taps his chin confused, before a wide grin reveals his razor sharp fangs.
“Demon? Hah, I might as well be! Yer soul does look so awfully delicious …” His red eyes turn into thin slits and he licks over his bottom lip hungrily. Slowly, he crawls onto the table and towards him on all fours. Yoshiki's heart stops.
“Poor little stranger, so worn out and tired…! I'll make sure that this will be a feast to remember, dontcha worry. H-Hah…it's been so awfully long since I… ”
A crazed look washes over his face, uncanny and lacking any semblance of human emotion. Yoshiki sees a white fox's tail swish back and forth with excitement between the boy's legs.
He suddenly pounces on top of him, claws digging into Yoshiki's wrist and slamming his arm onto the hard surface. A terrible stench hits his nose when he comes face to face with him, the smell of death and rotting meat violating his senses. It's so powerful Yoshiki fears he might pass out.
“G-Get off!” He yells pathetically. But thin, cold fingers wrap themselves around his neck.
“Don't worry, little man…I'll make it feel nice and painless for ya…” The white haired boy breathes out with a purr. Yoshiki is unwilling to accept his fate, however. Not after all the torment he had been through in the past 24 hours. Tightening his grip around the knife in his pocket, he moves fast and plunges the sharp blade deep into the side of his attacker's neck, then rips it out in a swift motion that flings blood into the air. A jet of warm liquid sprays everywhere, soiling the table cloth and their garments, not sparing their faces, not even their eyes and mouths.
The white haired boy's jaw drops in confusion and his eyes twitch strangely, pupils dilating and wobbling unnaturally. But the hold on Yoshiki's neck never loosens, forcing him to stay in place as he's slowly drenched in an endless stream of dark red. He hears the boy gasp for air.
“H-Hah! Not a bad move…!” he gurgles, spitting a mixture of blood and saliva onto Yoshiki's face. And to Yoshiki's horror, he watches as the devastating wound mends itself magically and closes up in front of his stunned eyes.
“H-How?! H–”
His head is knocked back with force, completely exposing every vulnerable part of his neck. Yoshiki knows this is it, he's going to die right now. But at least he won't be all alone. He feels a thumb trace along twitching muscles, as if searching for his arteries.
“Your flesh smells wonderful…I'm truly sorry for this.” The apology couldn't have sounded more fake.
“D-Don't, please-”
“Shshh!”
“No– H-Hikaru …!”
They both go completely still. Only the sound of Yoshiki's strained, fearful breathing can be heard and he gags on the disgusting flavor of iron in his mouth.
“What did ya just say.” The young man's voice is flat, conveying an unknown emotion. Yoshiki's lips tremble violently. “H-H-Hikaru! You're Hikaru! HIKARU, DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE!” He cries out with all of his strength, bloody tears cascading down his face.
The red and white figure sits up over him, arms hanging down motionless at his sides. His eyes are wide and he mutters something that Yoshiki only understands when it's repeated a second time.
“-ho…Who are you…Why do you..”
“I'm Yoshiki! My name's Tsujinaka Yoshiki! Please, Hikaru, I'm s-so scared .”
Yoshiki can't help it. He cries with loud and ugly sobs, releasing all of the pent up emotions from the past day. Even as minutes pass and the other boy still hasn't moved, he keeps crying uncontrollably until his head begins to hurt.
…
A colorful memory of a creek near a large forest clearing emerges. The clover covering the field was in full bloom and bees were collecting nectar from the various kinds of little flowers. Near the water's edge, two children were squatting down, their feet covered in sand and tiny rocks. One of them held a small landing net.
“Give it up! There ain't no fish in here, we've been lookin’ for soooo long.”
“Yeah, it's ‘cuz yer splashin’ around so much…ya could try sittin’ still for a few minutes!” The boy with black hair gave the other an annoyed look.
“BOOORING! Hey Yoshiki, let's play tag!”
Jumping up, the overly energetic one between them smacked his hand into the back of the other's head and ran away laughing. That was all it took for Yoshiki to get up and run after him with a raised fist.
“Yer done!!” He yelled, determined to get back at him.
For a few minutes they weaved and sprinted all over the field, until the one running away stood still suddenly, causing Yoshiki to slam into him. They both fell into the grass, laughing and groaning in pain simultaneously.
“Hah…you suck.” Yoshiki eventually said, eyebrows furrowed. But he himself knew this to be a big fat lie and his friend knew as well. They stayed there for a while, laying on soft grass with closed eyes to prevent the sun from blinding them too much.
“I could ask my dad if he'll take ya fishing with me,” one of them suddenly exclaimed.
“Oh! Yer dad's awesome, Hikaru. My dad doesn't like goin’ outside very much…”
“Hehe, that's why I gotta make sure ya get some sunlight!” Hikaru propped himself up on his elbows with a mischievous grin. Yoshiki could sense the happy feeling forming in his chest.
“Mom says it's important for yer health. All ya do is sit around in that stuffy workshop!”
“Yeah…but I hafta…”
“Not right now ya don't! C'mere!”
Hikaru grabbed him and ruffled his hair while squealing loudly into Yoshiki's ear. He always played a little rough, but Yoshiki had never minded that much…back then, when they played together often and shared all their troubles was the last time someone had truly listened to him.
…
The strange boy covered in blood is wearing his best friend's face. He stands over him, his bewildered, sharp eyes trembling as they watch Yoshiki's crying figure. Yoshiki eventually runs out of tears, but his sorrow doesn't leave him and he feels miles worse than before. The phantom grip of the murderous hand still tightens his throat.
“Yoshiki…”
He doesn't respond, doesn't look at him.
“Yoshiki…Yoshiki..” The words repeat over and over like a silent mantra, it sounds like someone learning to pronounce a new word.
“Yoshiki, Tsujinaka…Yoshiki…”
The person is suddenly right on top of him again and Yoshiki holds his breath in anticipation of more stabbing excruciating pain. But instead, arms and legs wrap around him like snakes and he suddenly regrets not breathing, because the hold is so strong that he can't raise his chest.
“Yoshiki! YOSHIKI, IT'S YOU!”
His attacker cries out happily with his face flush against Yoshiki's neck. Having his teeth so close makes Yoshiki break out into a sweat and then he hears a long, horrifying sniffing sound.
“I-I missed ya so much! Ya finally came to visit me after all these years! Yoshiki, Yoshiki, it's really you!!!”
Yoshiki can't move. Logically, he knows that this must be him , his only childhood friend who he hadn't seen in what, ten long years?! Remembering that information had undoubtedly saved his life, however he can't feel happy right now, because the insanity of this entire situation is still being processed in his aching brain.
“H-Hikaru…can't…breathe..!”
“Uaah! I'm so sorry!!”
Hikaru untangles from him and pulls Yoshiki up, his body flailing like a rag doll. He shakes him back and forth excitedly, ripping more holes into his clothes with those long nails.
“I'm just so so happy!! And oh– I'm sorry for almost eatin’ ya, h-hah,, didn't mean to do that to ya!”
What do you mean didn't mean to?! For the second time now Yoshiki thinks he may already be dead and hallucinating. But the way Hikaru suddenly grabs and lifts him up with ease, the more Yoshiki can't deny that this feels too real to be an illusion of the mind.
“Y'know, you're real cold…how long did ya spend outside in the snow??”
“U-Um…uhhh..”
“It's fine! Let's go get you somewhere warm n’ cozy.”
Yoshiki is lifted high into the air, it's as if Hikaru is walking on clouds with every large leap that he takes. No wonder Yoshiki hadn't stood a chance earlier,, He feels his head spinning in circles when instead of using the stairs like a normal person, Hikaru jumps from the entrance area onto the second floor railing with childish ease.
“W-What is happening?!”
“I'm bringin’ ya to bed! Yer hurt so badly!”
It freaks Yoshiki out that Hikaru's way of speaking has barely changed at all, as if the only thing different about him is his monstrous appearance. He's as giddy and elated as a small child, gaze soft and sparkly every time he looks at Yoshiki. It's only when he places him onto an old bed in one of the rooms that Yoshiki finally gets a proper good look at him.
The boy he knows as Hikaru has grown much taller, but he's still quite short next to Yoshiki. His skin is pale and caked in dirt all over his exposed arms, legs and bare feet, how he isn't cold in this get-up is beyond him. There's some sort of flayed, black net-like fabric draped over his shoulders, reaching down his back in long ripped strings. Yoshiki can't possibly decipher the practical use of any of his otherwise simplistic ragged clothes.
Something that stands out is Hikaru's short, messily cut hair. It looks unwashed and choppy, as if cut like that by himself. Yoshiki thinks he looks and smells like a dirty street dog, he much resembles one, too, with that filthy gray fox tail wagging around behind him.
“You stay here!! I'm gettin’ ya some water to drink and clean off the blood with.” Hikaru flashes a peace sign at him and is out of the room within seconds. Yoshiki lets himself fall hard onto the dusty blanket. He holds his head and allows his eyes to fall shut for a few minutes as he tries to think about nothing at all.
But the harder he tries, the more he struggles to do so, his mind so full of raging scraps of memories. It's like there's an angry voice screaming loudly in his head, making it impossible to relax for even a second. God . He just wants to sleep.
Rest doesn't come. So he pulls himself up, looking around the room. The large window functions as a door leading onto a balcony and the bed he's on is bigger than any he had ever seen back in the village. Although the beautiful green wallpaper is peeling off at certain spots, the room has a luxurious and grand aura.
Maybe…he can find something else to wear around here. His current clothes are entirely ruined and he must've lost his backpack earlier in the violent scuffle. So he painstakingly gets to his feet and begins looking around. There's not much, though. An empty cupboard, a desk with writing materials, a tall mirror and a wardrobe. He decides to look in there and as soon as it opens up, a dust cloud envelops him.
Yoshiki coughs loudly as he rummage through it as best as he can. There are clothes and blankets, but they're full of moth holes and coated in a thick layer of more dust. Still, he grabs a warm long sleeved shirt and a pair of pants that look like they might fit. He forces himself into them and they end up being slightly too wide. But he doesn't have a belt, so he simply accepts his fate.
Just as he's fumbling with the buttons of the shirt, Hikaru suddenly emerges from the door and drops down a huge, heavy bucket of water, spilling some of it onto the expensive looking carpet.
“Ohhh, you look snazzy in those! I love the baggy style on ya!”
“T-They don't fit me! Hey, don't you have any rag and soap?”
“Oh yeah!” Hikaru hands him a cloth that doesn't exactly look clean along with an empty bottle. But Yoshiki decides it's better than nothing and fills it up with water.
“Sorry, no soap. I used to have some, but…agh, that was a while ago.” Hikaru shrugs, as if it doesn't even matter. Yoshiki gives him a very skeptical look. Nevertheless, he eventually dips the rag into the ice cold water and takes off the shirt that he had only finished buttoning up halfway anyway. Hikaru plops down on the ground and watches him with big, curious eyes.
“...don't stare.”
“Yer not my boss. I haven't seen ya in so long! You definitely grew real tall!”
“Uh huh…”
Yoshiki looks away as he wipes his torso clean of the blood. He's freezing badly and each hair on his body is standing up. This whole situation…there's so much he wants to ask and say, but it's like he can't form a single concrete thought.
All he knows is that the person in front of him is highly dangerous and not to be trusted. Whatever that beast that looks and acts like his friend truly is, he thinks that maybe as long as he doesn't anger it, he will have a chance to get out of here alive once he's recovered. Until then…he would have to pretend to be friendly as much as possible.
“So why're ya visiting now?? Why not earlier?” Hikaru asks and gnaws on his dirty nails. He then scratches himself and shakes off some dirt.
“I ran away from home..didn't even know this place existed.”
“Hm, makes sense I guess. Ya never visited here even back then. Hey Yoshiki, you actually have muscles in yer arms now! You used to be all scrawny and cute, look at cha! Like a real man.”
Hikaru giggles and leans over to squeeze his biceps. Yoshiki quickly covers his arms over his naked chest and shys away from the sudden touch. He doesn't want Hikaru so close again, but also, no one had ever just touched him so freely without permission. He had never even been in a situation where someone might touch him like that.
“S-Stop that…I guess, yeah. Ya look older, too. I almost didn't recognize ya at first…”
Hikaru seems to be a little happy about that remark. “Heh, really? Well, my horns have been growin’ real nicely. Maybe I can use ‘em for stabbing soon.”
“Sure…”
“Wait..! Yoshiki, ya ran away from home?! What happened?” Hikaru reaches out to grab his shoulders, but Yoshiki subtly dodges his attempt this time. He starts cleaning himself a little faster, not liking how Hikaru is basically sitting right next to him now.
“It's a long story…let's just say my parents suck. And they tried to force me to marry a random girl, so I decided to leave…”
Hikaru blinks in surprise. “W-Wow…that's heavy…haha, did ya at least get to kiss the girl?’
“Wh– of course not!!”
“Alright,, but yeah, I never liked yer parents. They argued a lot, didn't they?”
“Still do.”
Yoshiki feels…strange. Talking with Hikaru, someone who used to know him so well before they had lost contact all those years ago, it feels like a burden lifting off of his chest. He had expected conversing to be scarier, but Hikaru is interested in his life nowadays like any normal friend would be. There's no hint of that monstrous behavior he had displayed earlier.
“It's okay, Yoshiki.” Hikaru smiles warmly, but there's something not quite right about it. He slowly but surely edges closer, until Yoshiki can't back away anymore because the bed is in the way.
“Ya don't have t'go back there. Just stay with me…I'd love to have ya here, I really would. I've been awfully lonely here, just like you've probably been back home.”
“Y-Yeah, I dunno…” Yoshiki blurts out. “I don't wanna go back, but–”
“So don't! Who needs ‘em anyway? I've been doin’ just fine without my parents here, with you it'll be even better. Besides, there's somethin’ I've realized over the years, Yoshiki.”
“What is it…?” For some reason, he dreads the answer. Hikaru reaches out, carefully stroking his knee, a simple motion that makes Yoshiki feel cold and hot at the same time.
“ I've missed ya a lot, you were my only real friend…so…you bein’ here, there must be a reason.” He tilts his head, red eyes filled with pure affection. “I was meant to meet ya again, Yoshiki…I'm so happy. Please, stay with me for a while, will ya?”
Yoshiki swallows down his fear. Hikaru is so close that he can see each individual ridge of his horns. It's so hard to concentrate and he's unsure why.
“...Okay. I'll stay here with you, for now.”
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Back out in the freezing cold, Yoshiki hugs himself for warmth. After resting for an hour or two, he had decided to join Hikaru in getting firewood to heat up the place. The old fur coat he's wearing should theoretically keep him warm, but watching Hikaru walk ahead of him in nothing but shorts and a shirt with much too thin fabric is sending cold shivers down his shoulders.
They hadn't been talking much, Hikaru only giving random commentary about the castle here and there while skipping around happily in front of his face. But the current silence between them allows for the loud rumbling of Yoshiki's stomach to make itself known. Hikaru turns around with comically large eyes.
“Dude, was that you??”
“Y-Yes…sorry, I haven't eaten in a minute.”
“That's no good!” Hikaru stops walking. They're in the back of the castle next to the garden area, a massive piece of land overgrown and covered entirely in snow.
“Oh, I know! I think I buried some meat ‘round here a while ago!”
“What?”
Hikaru nods excitedly and jumps into the snow, tail wagging as he looks around and runs to a tree nearby. He crouches down and starts digging with nothing but his bare hands.
“H-Hey! You're gonna hurt yerself!” Yoshiki trots over through the snow, which immediately gets into his shoes.
“Don't worry, almost got it– Aha!”
Hikaru presents a strange bundle of cloth tied together tightly. He reveals what's inside: Multiple sheets of dark red meat, frozen solid and as hard as rocks. Yoshiki gulps.
“U-Um…is that still edible?”
“Probably! Here, lemme–”
Hikaru bites right down on a piece and struggles to chew it. But then he just shrugs his shoulders.
“Tastes like frozen meat! We're aaall good!”
“O-Okay…” Yoshiki reluctantly accepts the bundle of meat and follows Hikaru as they keep walking. Really…looking at this stuff, he's not sure he still wants to eat. He appreciates the hospitality, but it's a little revolting, everything in this place is, including its owner.
Yoshiki catches himself staring nervously at Hikaru's dirty, reddened feet which are being subjected to the worst kind of abuse as Hikaru carelessly walks over rocks, glass and every cold surface around.
“H-Hey…” Yoshiki starts as they walk into a dark and spacious storage room.
“How come your feet aren't hurting..?”
“Huh?” Hikaru looks confused. “Oh, that. Well, I just prefer not havin’ to worry ‘bout shoes! I like all the different stuff I can feel when I walk around. You should try!”
“No, thanks.”
“Alright, mister dainty feet…”
Yoshiki furrows his eyebrows at that. He watches as Hikaru walks up to a huge wall lined with firewood and starts picking up logs.
“And how're ya not cold without warm clothes, I don't get it!” He speaks more forcefully this time. Unfortunately, Hikaru seems to find his confusion very amusing.
“Wouldn't you like to know, hehe. My, I'm so flattered how interested ya are in my body, Yoshiki!”
“You–” Yoshiki blushes to his ears. “That's not– Yer just weird!! Walkin’ around like that ain't normal! And your horns and tail, what's up with that??”
“Hmmm, oh Yoshiki, look my hands are full! Don't forget to grab some kindling from that basket over there!” Hikaru runs away with a devious little giggle and leaves Yoshiki behind to gasp in bewilderment. So with a grumble, he throws the meat into the basket and just grabs the entire thing.
“Wait for me! Gosh– don't leave me!”
Yoshiki struggles to run after him through the snow and up the stairs back into the courtyard. He has no clue how Hikaru is doing this much while carrying an entire tree trunk worth of wood, but he's sure as hell not ready to lose to that little freak, even with his entire body being on fire. He storms into the entrance hall and Yoshiki realizes with embarrassment that Hikaru had been waiting for him all bored and leaning on the railing.
“There you are, slowpoke! I could've lit ten fires with how long ya took!”
“Liar! Also I'm hurt, remember?! It wasn't fair from the start!” Yoshiki doesn't know why he feels so passionate about this stupid game of cat and mouse.
“Nawww haha, you're still as cute as I remember when ya get all pissy! Livin’ together is gonna be fun!”
He laughs and strides towards a door that Yoshiki hasn't entered yet. It leads them down yet another stairway and opens up into a big kitchen area. Honestly, Yoshiki is too impressed by it to even keep complaining. There are countless utensils lining the walls and the first kitchen island that Yoshiki has seen in real life.
“W-Woah,, just how rich were yer parents??”
“Pfff, dunno. But they inherited all this, don't get it twisted. Those two didn't really make a whole buncha money themselves.”
“Hm…still, I can't believe ya grew up like this and I never knew. Why were you even playing with a nobody like me..?”
They lay down the items on the dirty tiled floor. Hikaru smiles warmly.
“‘Cuz I liked ya! But also, my dad liked yer dad lots. I think your father actually made some of our furniture!”
“Really?? That's…actually pretty nice to know. I see…”
Yoshiki doesn't know how to feel about that. The pieces are all aligning so strangely…if their father's hadn't been friends, he and Hikaru might’ve never met. And Hikaru would've…ugh. Yoshiki doesn't wanna keep thinking about that, it still scares him a lot. Hikaru's innocent appearance is like a disguise for his true, sinister nature.
Hikaru sits criss-cross on the ground and watches as Yoshiki spreads kindling, then places wooden slabs on top in a sort of circle. He gets out the matchbox from his pocket and lights the fire. After a few seconds, he grabs one of the old plates and fans the flames, sending smoke into their faces and making them both cough.
“Ugh, that's stinks!” Hikaru complains.
“Y-Yeah, but not much worse than the other bad smells ‘round here…”
They watch the fire grow for a bit, then Yoshiki starts to lay out the unappetizing looking meat on one of the pans on top of the stove. He side-eyes Hikaru with a nervous look.
“...this ain't human meat, right?”
“Nope! It's deer, look, it's all dark red!”
“Ah…” Yoshiki hadn't ever had deer meat in his life. It wasn't commonly sold in his town like livestock meat, so he assumes it must be a rich people thing. Hunters from rural farmlands aren't allowed to just hunt deer on land not owned by them.
“So, Hikaru…I, um..” There's a lump stuck in his throat. Some oil to fry the meat wouldn't be bad, but there's nothing around, no seasonings either…
“Why did ya…I–”
Hikaru tilts his head. “What's up?”
“Why did ya say you wanted to eat me?” Yoshiki doesn't dare look at him. He's far too afraid. Hikaru is silent for a moment.
“...Because I do that. When bad outsiders get in my home, I just…I eat ‘em.”
Yoshiki can't take his eyes off of the cooking meat. His coat is starting to feel suffocating and heavy.
“I don't understand…that's not normal.”
“I know. I'm not normal, can't ya tell?”
Yoshiki doesn't know how to respond. Hikaru continues: “I've been livin’ alone and when someone first wandered in here- It's hard to explain, but I had this urge . I didn't get it back then until I took the first bite. It all made sense from there.”
Yoshiki is stiff like a statue. What he's hearing sounds impossible, too gruesome to be true. The Hikaru he had known… he was just a boy, innocent and carefree. Not some man-eating monster. There is so much he doesn't understand and is too terrified to ask more about. He thinks if he does, Hikaru might not like it and turn on him. The beastly boy had been acting awfully dismissive towards all his questions, it makes Yoshiki feel incredibly uneasy.
“The meat's tasty, but really it's just a bonus!” Hikaru suddenly adds. “What I'm really after is the soul . And yours is…” Yoshiki can feel him inching closer and he watches in horror as Hikaru's hand grazes the burning flat surface of the stove without a single reaction. He leans against Yoshiki, another hand lightly touching the back of his head.
“It's marvelous . So bright, like my own little sun…I ran as fast as I could when I first sensed it inside the castle. That's why I didn't recognize ya…I was so focused on yer soul.”
Slowly, Yoshiki turns his head towards Hikaru. The young man is staring at him with hypnotized intensity and then, he drags his tongue along his bottom lip. Yoshiki is both enraptured and paralyzed by fear as the blood in his veins runs cold. He feels Hikaru's pointer finger moving in a circular fashion on the center of his occipital bone.
“Yoshiki…I'm sorry if I frighten ya. But I promise, I won't bend a single hair on your body.” His eyes turn into slits and he laughs at his own manner of speech. “Hah, I'm lyin’ aren't I? But I won't hurt ya, not in a bazillion years! Promise!”
Yoshiki's stomach feels so incredibly heavy. The meat had indeed been edible, but he had overestimated how much his stomach would be able to hold. Now he just feels utterly sick in his skin and from Hikaru's words that had grossed him out in the worst way. Luckily, Hikaru had obliged when he had asked to go back to his room alone to get some more rest.
Sliding off the fur coat and damp shoes, he climbs into bed. The blanket and bed covering are very heavy, but Yoshiki kind of likes how it feels and soon he can't keep his eyes from falling shut. Sleeping in a bed as fancy as this, he had never imagined himself ever being in a position like that. Even if this castle is rundown and dirty, at least this part he enjoys. It doesn't take long for him to be lulled into sleep by the soft mattress and warm bedding.
Yoshiki is stirred awake in the middle of the night, perhaps it's the deep seated pain in his joints or something else. Whatever it may be, he lays there feeling restless and cold in his legs for what feels like an eternity. His tired eyes examine the faint moonlight in the room, when somewhere in the hallway outside he thinks he hears a strange, hard to define sound.
It's not a voice, there are no words being spoken, but it's like an unsettling oppressive presence pressing itself against the other side of the door. It oozes into the room and makes Yoshiki hide further beneath his blanket as he tries his best not to make a sound, so he can listen and not be noticed by it.
A gulp of air, pained sighs and elongated groans of an odd pitch finally become clearer. The sound is close now, right outside his room, as if it knows that he's in there. It's waiting for him to open up the door for him.
For many long minutes Yoshiki can hear those breaths, which eventually morph into a sorrowful, endless wail. Someone is crying wordlessly out there to no one at all, yet Yoshiki can't shake the fear that whoever it is, they're calling out to him. It takes everything in Yoshiki to stay put and ignore it.
And finally, when he hears the first song birds chirping outside his window the crying fades away. Feeling entirely drained but safer, he is able to fall back asleep.
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