u/zuomarechi1

"...But I would like to leave you both with my best wishes. Thank you for everything..."

"Goodbye..."

Shinkotsu closed the diary in his hands. He set it aside and covered his face with both hands. Beside him, Yuta had her own hand over her mouth, barely managing to keep herself from crying out.

Tears streamed down both their faces. Hours had passed. It had only been hours since they had lost their closest friend.

Once Shinkotsu had finally stopped crying by the river, the first thing he had done was run to Yuta's house. Together, they had read the words in the diary, its pages marked here and there by spots where the ink had clearly been soaked and dried again.

Neither of them could comprehend it. For eight years, they had never allowed anything, or anyone, to come between them.

But they had been powerless against the angel of death.

For a while, neither of them spoke. As Yuta sobbed, her shoulders trembling, Shinkotsu pulled her into his arms.

They stayed like that for minutes. They simply cried, without saying a word. When Takeshi had been with them, it had been nearly impossible for them to stay quiet. Now that he was gone, neither of them quite knew what they were supposed to do.

Eventually, Yuta pulled away and took a breath. Her head was throbbing from crying. "What did they do with his body? Will we be able to stay with him?"

Shinkotsu sniffed and wiped his reddened eyes with one hand. "It'll be difficult to spend the night there. The authorities are still examining everything. His parents haven't even been allowed to take his body yet."

Yuta swallowed. "We knew..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We knew, and we did nothing..."

"I really never thought he'd do something like this," Shinkotsu said, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "I'll kill Shirakawa."

Ganshu's face wouldn't leave his mind. Takeshi had written it all down, sentence by sentence: how the boy he loved had told him to die, how deeply it had hurt, how exhausted he had become from being unable to make anything right anymore. He had written about how he could no longer bear the way his mistakes were eating away at him.

He had left behind a diary filled with page after page of his thoughts. Some pages held stories, others little drawings...

He had died believing that no one but Shinkotsu and Yuta would care.

He had been wrong...

Once again.

•••

Shinkotsu and Yuta somehow managed to spend the night beside Takeshi's carefully prepared body. By then, Shinkotsu could no longer cry. As he listened to the priest's prayers and the scent of burning incense filled the room, he spent the entire night sitting quietly with Takeshi's family, lost in memories of the time they had shared.

His hatred and anger had only grown stronger.

The funeral was held the following day.

Shinkotsu and Yuta attended that as well, staying from the moment Takeshi's body was carried out until he was laid to rest. Shinkotsu was the one who scattered the earth over his grave with his own hands. As some of the crowd began to leave, Yuta remained by the grave with Takeshi's parents.

But there were some unexpected faces at the funeral.

Shinkotsu caught sight of Ganshu standing toward the back. He strode toward him with quick, heavy steps.

Ganshu was dressed in a pitch-black suit. His hands hung at his sides, clenched tightly into fists. More importantly, tears were slowly rolling down his face.

The moment Shinkotsu reached him, he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside the cemetery. It was as though his strength had doubled; he practically hauled a broad-shouldered man like Ganshu out by force.

The moment they were outside, he threw him to the ground. Ganshu said nothing. He didn't even raise his head. He made no attempt to brush the dust and dirt from his clothes. The only sound that escaped his lips was a quiet, broken sob.

Shinkotsu kicked him. "You son of a bitch!"

"He died because of you! Because of what you said to him! You gave him the courage to do it!"

He kicked him again. Ganshu still said nothing.

"And now you have the nerve to come here and cry at his funeral... Are you relieved? He's finally dead. ARE YOU RELIEVED!?"

Ganshu clenched the dirt beneath his hand.

He remained silent.

Just as Shinkotsu grabbed him by the collar again, Jiro happened to be passing by the front of the cemetery.

"Don't make such a big deal out of it," he said, looking at Shinkotsu. "You don't cry like this just because a dog died."

Shinkotsu released Ganshu's collar. Without looking back, Ganshu hurried away.

"What the hell did you just say?" Shinkotsu snapped. He straightened and turned toward Jiro. "YOU SON OF A BITCH, WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"

"Good riddance. The city just got a little better without that bastard-" Jiro didn't get to finish. A fist slammed into his face.

"Say it again!" Shinkotsu shouted, striking him again. Jiro struck back, throwing the next punch himself. Shinkotsu's expression didn't even flinch. Fueled by his anger, Shinkotsu kept hitting Jiro without stopping.

"You and your shitty friends can all-" Jiro pulled himself back and drew a knife from his pocket. "Go to hell!"

Shinkotsu had no trouble wrenching the knife from his hand as Jiro swung it. With a swift motion, he slashed Jiro's cheek, then pressed the blade against his throat.

"SAY ONE MORE WORD!" Shinkotsu roared, pressing the blade closer. "ONE MORE DAMN WORD AND I'LL BURY YOU HERE TODAY!"

The crowd from the cemetery had gathered around them. Three people restrained Shinkotsu while two held Jiro back. Shinkotsu was still struggling against their grip.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO, I'LL KILL HIM!"

Jiro was no different. "LET HIM GO!" he shouted, knowing full well he'd only be beaten again if they did.

Yuta placed a hand against Shinkotsu's chest. "Don't... Please. Takeshi wouldn't want you fighting at his funeral."

Shinkotsu stopped.

He took several deep breaths, staring at Jiro. "This isn't over," he said.

"It sure as hell isn't!" Jiro shot back, straightening his clothes. He turned around and hurried away.

Shinkotsu finally turned his head toward Yuta.

"You know Takeshi would've wanted me to fight..." he said, beginning to laugh from sheer nervous exhaustion. "If he were here, we'd have beaten him together. He'd probably be pissed that I went after him alone."

Yuta smiled through the pain and cupped Shinkotsu's cheeks in her hands. "I know..."

"We wouldn't even be standing here right now. We'd have gone to your house after the fight to tell you what happened. You'd have scolded us for getting into childish trouble... Takeshi would look at me, I'd look at him, and we'd start laughing."

"I know..." Yuta said again. A small sob escaped her lips.

"How many stories did he leave unfinished, I wonder?"

"Dozens."

"He was supposed to write that story where the three of us were characters. That bastard... He left without even finishing that."

Shinkotsu kept grinning. His nerves were completely shot. He didn't even know what he was doing or why he was saying any of this. None of it felt real. It was as though Takeshi were still alive. As though there were still a hand resting on his shoulder.

He could almost feel it.

Yuta couldn't bear to watch him like this any longer. She buried her face against Shinkotsu's chest and continued to cry quietly.

"Takeshi... Look what you've done to us..."

•••

They stayed by the grave for hours. The crowd had long since dispersed, and even Takeshi's parents had finally gone home. Shinkotsu and Yuta sat on the earth, continuing to talk about their memories of him.

By the time they returned home, it was almost midnight.

Shinkotsu's mother, Kurenai, was waiting for him at the door. The moment she saw the dust covering her son from head to toe, her already furrowed brows drew together even further. "What were you thinking, coming home at this hour looking like this?"

"I was at the funeral. You know that," Shinkotsu replied.

"You were supposed to get married. How is that going to happen if you're going to behave this irresponsibly?"

"I'm not getting married."

"Excuse me?" Kurenai stepped closer to Shinkotsu. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"I just buried my best man. Marriage is the last thing on my mind!" the young man snapped. "Yuta feels the same way. We just lost our closest friend. We're not going to go ahead and have a wedding like nothing happened!"

"You're going to throw away all those preparations over some poor nobody!?" Kurenai demanded. "Do you have any idea what your father is going to say?"

"My father will understand! That boy you look down on because he was poor respected me more than you ever did!"

"You do not raise your voice at me. Get a hold of yourself!"

"Get out of my way!" Shinkotsu shoved his mother aside by the shoulder and stormed up to his room.

Kurenai was still shouting when the sound of the lock clicking shut came from behind his door...

•••

From that day onward, Shinkotsu knew he would never be the same again.

When Takeshi's belongings were being divided among his family, Shinkotsu took nothing. He knew his mother would burn anything she found in his possession.

The diary remained with Yuta.

His sketchbook was nowhere to be found.

And Ganshu disappeared that very day.

No one ever heard from him again.

Kagero and Hagane were chatting in Hagane's workshop. It wasn't something they got to do very often. A little alcohol, plenty of friendship and conversation... It allowed them to step away from the fast pace of life for a while and find some peace.

"She's already so lively..." Hagane said. "I don't know how she fits that much energy into such a tiny little body."

"Wait until she learns how to run, man. I'm sure you'll sprain your ankle a few times chasing after Mari."

They laughed. Just as Hagane took a sip of his sake, there was a knock at the workshop door. Kagero, thinking it was Hina, quickly hid his drink, making Hagane laugh. "You think Hina would knock?"

"Right..."

"Come in!" Hagane called, looking toward the door. He had recognized Kaito from the sound of the dog barking. The door slowly opened, and Kaito stepped inside. He was holding something wrapped in cloth. He turned around and looked at the dog waiting at the door, its tail wagging. "No, Tako. You can't come in."

Tako tilted his head to the side and sat down, obediently waiting for Kaito.

The young man's eyes found Kagero, and he paused for a moment. Kagero smiled at him and gave him a small nod. Kaito returned the gesture before turning toward Hagane. "I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"It's no trouble, son. Come in." Hagane smiled. "Kagero, the Shadow Hashira. Kagero, this is Kaito."

Kaito approached and gave Kagero a slight bow out of respect. Kagero chuckled and extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, young man. Hagane's told me about you. You're the Water Hashira's brother, aren't you?"

Kaito nodded. As he briefly shook the man's hand, he glanced at Hagane. Even without saying anything, it was obvious that he was asking him something. What did you tell him about me?

Hagane ruffled the boy's hair. "What do you need? Is something wrong?"

Kaito sighed as he handed the bundle to Hagane. "I couldn't take it to Sukumori-san..."

When Hagane opened the cloth, he found a sword broken clean in half. He shook his head. "Of course you couldn't take it... I'd be scared too if I were you."

Kaito gave a slight shrug, and Kagero spoke up. "Your last mission was a rough one, huh?"

"Not really. I've been resting for a while now," Kaito replied. "This is the second time my sword's broken. The first was... a few weeks ago. Sukumori-san gave me quite an earful for that one. My friend broke this one today."

"Your friend?"

"A girl named Ren. She got angry with me and ruined the sword. I couldn't get it back from her."

"These things really do break easily," Hagane said. "Thankfully, they're easy to repair. Don't worry."

"Thank you," Kaito said, his eyes drifting toward the bottle of alcohol and the glasses on the table. "Are you drinking?"

"Every now and then," Kagero said. "Just clearing our heads."

"...Are you drunk right now?"

Hagane and Kagero laughed. "Do we look drunk?" Hagane asked.

"I don't know. I've never seen you drunk before."

"Don't, then. Until he sobers up, he keeps mumbling about his wife." Kagero said. Hagane grinned and playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "What can I do? That's love. If you were married, you'd do the same."

"There's no way anyone could be as whipped as you, brother."

Kaito almost seemed to smile.

"So, tell us, young man. Are you dating that girl? What's she like?"

Kaito's eyes widened, and he immediately shook his head from side to side. It was difficult to tell whether he was embarrassed or simply horrified at the possibility of dating Ren. "If you asked her, she'd say we're married with two kids. But having that actually happen is probably my greatest fear in life."

Kagero leaned against the table with a cheerful laugh. "She's that bad?"

"I'd rather die single than marry her."

"Kagero can give you some advice on that. He's the king of bachelors," Hagane said with a grin.

Kagero took another sip of his drink. In the most sarcastic voice imaginable, he said, "I keep putting off marriage because I'm afraid I'll abandon you once I get married. Wouldn't want to leave my brother all alone like some people did."

Hagane gasped. "Oh, come on!"

"I was your biggest supporter! Her father and her friends were going to throw stones at you!'

"A debt is a debt. If you find someone, I'll vouch for you too," Hagane said, knowing that beneath Kagero's alcohol-laced, teasing voice was one of the greatest sources of support he'd ever had in his life.

When Tako began barking impatiently again, Kaito stepped outside. "Tako! Don't bark so loudly. What if Mari's sleeping?"

Tako sadly tilted his head to the side again, and Kaito couldn't resist. He crouched down and stroked the dog's head. "Okay, I'm sorry. But still, don't bark that loudly."

Tako wagged his tail.

And then he suddenly darted into the workshop.

He happily ran over to Kagero and sniffed him, clearly trying to make friends with the newcomer. When Kagero laughed and stood up, Tako placed his paws against him and hugged him.

Tako was still very much a puppy at heart, playful and full of energy. Seeing this, Kagero stroked the dog's head. The attention only made Tako happier, and he jumped down from Kagero's arms and began running around excitedly.

"Tako— Tako! Come here," Kaito called, worried that he might knock something over in the workshop. When Tako went over to him, Kaito picked the dog up. The little thing couldn't sit still and immediately began licking Kaito's face.

Kaito eventually gave up and let him.

Hagane chuckled. "He's affectionate."

"Just like us," Kagero said. Hagane raised an eyebrow. "Am I a dog now?"

Kagero burst out laughing. "We're getting wasted dude."

"Yeah, so put that bottle down. Dinner's almost ready," a voice said.

Hagane smiled when he saw Hina standing in the doorway. "We're coming, sweetheart."

The disapproving look Hina had been giving them was quickly set aside when she noticed Kaito. After all, he wasn't the one sneaking off to the workshop to drink, so she had no reason to be angry with him. "Hello, Kaito. How about joining us for dinner?"

"I'd love to, but I have to go," Kaito said. "I have a few things to take care of."

"Can't they wait a little? I made dumplings."

Kaito paused for a moment at the mention of dumplings. Then he shook his head. "Thank you. Enjoy your meal... I really do have to go. I only came to drop off the sword."

Hagane and Kagero left the workshop, leaving the table as it was, intending to clean it up later. Kagero placed a hand on Kaito's shoulder. "She's a good cook, if not quite as good as me. I think you should stay."

"And what business do you have anyway?" Hagane added. When Kaito didn't answer, he sighed. It felt as though he had only claimed to have somewhere to be because he didn't want to stay there any longer.

Kaito had seemed much quieter and sadder than usual for the past few weeks. He seemed to be trying to get away whenever he could.

It had become difficult to see him smile ever since he returned from his last mission.

And no matter who asked, he never told them why.

When he could no longer come up with an excuse to refuse them, Kaito went inside. He hadn't liked the idea of turning down the dumplings in the first place. He ate with them, and when Mari woke up, he played with her for a while. He helped clear the table, and eventually, it was time for him to leave.

Kaito bowed again at the door out of respect. "Thank you for the meal."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Come visit again, alright?" Hina said with a kind smile. Kaito nodded.

When the boy turned around to leave, Hagane stopped him. "Wait a moment."

A few minutes later, he returned with a sword in his hand. It was a different sword from Kaito's. He held it out to the boy. "Use this for now. I'll let you know when yours is repaired, or I'll bring it to you. Alright?"

Kaito nodded and slid the sword, sheath and all, into his belt. "Thank you very much. I don't know how I'll ever repay you, sir..."

"You don't owe me anything. Just be alright."

Mari began crying at that moment. Hina went inside to check on her. Hagane calmly placed a hand on Kaito's shoulder. "Son, it feels like something's troubling you. You know you can always tell me, right?"

Kaito sighed. A faint tremor had begun in his hands, barely noticeable. "I can't tell you this time. I'm sorry."

Kaito tightly gripped the hilt of the sword to hide the trembling in his hands. "...Please don't take it as rudeness. Telling you would hurt you more than it would hurt me."

"Good evening."

He said it and began walking away, Tako following behind him.

Kagero, who had finished getting ready to leave, came out behind Hagane. "Is the kid always like that?"

"He wasn't. The two of them came back from that mission completely wrecked. They haven't really spoken since." Hagane sighed. "I can't help worrying about him."

"I know. But you also know that if there were anything we could do, we wouldn't hold back."

Hagane nodded. Kagero held out his hand for a dap-up. "See you around."

"See you, brother," Hagane said, meeting the hand of his closest friend...

!!! TW: Anxiety !!!

It had been two years since Takeshi's older brother had left home.

Takeshi had grown up, reaching the age of seventeen. He had grown taller, and his face and voice had settled into those of a young man. Throughout those two years, he had never been able to let go of his love. He hadn't been able to forget his brother, but neither had he been able to forgive him. He had gotten into fights, made new friends, and lost those friends. The stress had gotten so bad that he would cry and lie awake at night. He couldn't go even five minutes without thinking that he was a disgusting person.

The only ones he had left were Shinkotsu and Yuta. Even then, it wasn't as though he saw much of either of them. As Shinkotsu had begun to have a greater say in the family's affairs, the two of them had gradually found themselves seeing each other less and less.

Yuta and Shinkotsu were going to be married soon. Over the past two years, both families had increased their wealth considerably. Not long after the wedding, Shinkotsu would take over as head of the family and begin managing his father's affairs.

Even if they couldn't see each other often, Takeshi knew he would be at the wedding. He would be Shinkotsu's best man.

That was one of the reasons he kept going.

For his friends.

So he could be there for them on the happiest day of their lives. So that, just once, he could be a good friend.

That evening, Takeshi had gone out simply to stay away from home for a while. He sat beneath a tree with his sketchbook resting on his lap. He was drawing new ideas, new characters for the novel he had been writing...

His hands trembled as he made each stroke, but he didn't stop. He needed something to take his mind off things. Otherwise, he knew he would lose his mind and start hurting someone, or something.

The fear that something was going to happen gnawed at him from the inside, dragging his memories back to the surface again and again. It was becoming harder and harder to cope.

As footsteps approached from a distance, Takeshi already knew exactly who he was going to meet.

Knowing that made him hate himself, but he lifted his head anyway, despite himself.

Ganshu approached with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

"What's with you? Sitting here all alone?"

"I came out to clear my head. What are you doing?"

"I saw you on my way home, so I thought I'd stop by," Ganshu said, sitting down beside him.

Takeshi's heart began pounding so hard it made him want to curse himself. His heartbeat slammed against his ribcage so violently that he was afraid Ganshu might hear it.

He didn't know why he felt this way.

Ever since Ganshu had grown closer to him, Takeshi had been caught between one feeling and another. Whenever it suited him, whenever he felt empty, Ganshu always found himself beside Takeshi.

And Takeshi never said a word.

He would grow angry deep down. He would get hurt. But he never complained or pushed him away.

Even knowing that he was being used, he couldn't bring himself to resist.

Being beside Ganshu brought him a sense of peace, too. Maybe his hands trembled with excitement. Maybe he would run a fever.

But peace wasn't always nothing more than a still sea or the sound of nightingales singing, was it?

Embarrassed, Takeshi hurriedly closed his sketchbook.

Ganshu reached for it, but Takeshi pulled it closer.

"Don't open it."

"Come on, let me see. Please... I'm curious."

"Please."

Hearing that word from Ganshu felt like a miracle. For a long time now, he had never let his usual harshness slip when speaking to Takeshi.

Takeshi sighed and left the sketchbook in Ganshu's lap. He leaned his back against the tree and closed his eyes.

"...You really drew all of these?" Ganshu asked as he examined the scribbled characters and the names written beneath them.

Takeshi nodded, embarrassed.

"Wow... I'm still surprised someone like you can make things like this."

"What is someone like me supposed to be?" Takeshi asked, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

"You're a freak, an idiot, whatever. But you're good at this," Ganshu said as casually as if he were stating the most ordinary thing in the world.

Takeshi gave a strained grin.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

Ganshu shrugged.

"Were you looking for a compliment?"

"I don't want anything from you, Ganshu," Takeshi said.

The words had left his mouth before he could stop them, and only afterward did he realize what he had said.

Ganshu frowned.

"So that's what we've become now?"

"Yeah."

"You've gotten pretty spoiled yourself. Is it because you've been hanging around rich people?"

Takeshi shifted away from him, closed the sketchbook in his hands, and placed it on the ground.

"Am I the spoiled one? Ever since you realized I was someone you could use whenever you felt overwhelmed and throw away afterward, I don't even recognize you anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Ganshu asked.

He straightened up, pulling his back away from the tree.

"Who exactly am I using?"

"Me, Ganshu. Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't. Just once in your life, show some courage. Go on."

Ganshu looked straight into his eyes.

Not a single word left his mouth.

Whether it was because he had no answer or because he was afraid to say it, Takeshi couldn't tell.

Takeshi sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just overwhelmed."

Ganshu looked relieved.

"Why are you overwhelmed?"

Takeshi took a deep breath and slowly stretched himself out across the grass.

"I can't shut my head off. You know some of what happened, more or less... I can't get it out of my mind," he said, swallowing before adding, "I don't want to keep doing this."

He didn't know why he had said it.

He didn't know why he trusted Ganshu this much, either.

But he had reached his limit, like a glass filled to the very brim, ready to spill at the slightest movement.

Even breathing felt heavy.

Ganshu was silent for a moment.

Then a grin settled into the corner of his mouth.

"Then leave. Maybe we'd all be better off."

"Hm?"

"Just leave. We're all tired of dealing with this. You put way too much faith in your friends. Rich people don't care about people like you. They're probably just using you."

"What did you say?" Takeshi asked as he stood up.

He had left the sketchbook on the ground beside him.

"What the hell are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that Shinkotsu is a bastard. I'm saying you should be careful about who you put your trust in."

"Don't," Takeshi said, pointing a finger at Ganshu.

"Don't you dare insult him in front of me. You don't know a damn thing."

"Oh, really? That bastard keeps picking fights with us just because he's bored. Jiro took plenty of beatings from him, didn't he?"

"Why would he pick on you just because he's bored? Take a good look at that bastard you've been following around like a lapdog. The only thing he's ever accomplished in his life is inheriting what his ancestors left behind," Takeshi said, his hands now clenched into fists.

Would he regret this argument later?

Probably.

But he didn't stop.

"You're not much different from him, either. You've got a family that puts everything you could possibly want right in front of you. You don't even know what it means to work for something."

"You have any idea how many lessons I had to take from the moment I could walk—"

"I'm sorry your family forced you to become cultured, Ganshu. I hope someday you learn to be grateful for what you have."

Takeshi left his sketchbook and pencils lying on the ground.

He turned his back to Ganshu and walked away without saying another word.

Ganshu looked down at the sketchbook left behind, picked it up, and stood.

"Fuck..."

•••

His heart was still pounding.

He had done it again.

He had thought he would change, and he had failed. He had become cruel again. He had only made the pointless shame he felt toward Ganshu worse.

But what else could he have done?

He couldn't simply stand there and listen while his closest friend, his brother, was insulted.

Even if those insults had come from the boy he'd spent years caring about.

Still, the fear that something might happen to him was beginning to wear him down. He was tired of taking risks despite knowing what they could lead to. He couldn't handle another fight.

What if his family found out?

What would happen if they learned that he kept getting into fights with the children of noble families?

When Takeshi began struggling to breathe, he sat down at the side of the road. His legs didn't feel strong enough to carry him anymore.

As the sun slowly sank, it took the warmth from the air with it.

Or perhaps Takeshi had simply lost everything that once warmed him from within.

We may never know.

The voices inside his head wouldn't stop. They hadn't for months, perhaps even years. The weight of his actions and his words pressed heavily against his shoulders.

He withdrew into an even more secluded corner.

The tears he'd been desperately trying to hold back began slipping free one by one, falling from his cheeks and darkening the earth beneath him.

Takeshi could no longer suppress his voice as well as he used to.

He wasn't shouting. He wasn't disturbing anyone.

And yet, he could be heard.

His helplessness, his regret, somehow, all of it was finding a way out.

"God... I swear I'm trying... I'm trying to be better... Please, have mercy on me. I've learned my lesson..." he whispered between sobs.

For a long while, he remained there, staring at nothing in particular.

Eventually, he forced himself to stand.

He had no idea where he was going.

He only knew that he couldn't stay there.

•••

By the time Takeshi returned home, darkness had settled over the town for quite some time.

He didn't even know what time it was anymore.

The moment he stepped through the door, he headed straight for his room. He changed his clothes, brushed his hair, and tied it back.

Then he reached beneath the wooden floorboards and took out the diary he had hidden there.

His handwriting, already careless to begin with, was even harder to read now, but he didn't particularly care.

He wrote about everything that had happened that day, about what he had felt...

He wrote about his conversation with Ganshu, and about how, on his way home, he had sat down and cried for what might have been the first time in a very long while.

He closed the diary with a final note.

Then he put it back where it belonged and lay down in his bed.

His mother entered the room shortly afterward.

Her face was filled with worry.

"How are you? You didn't even say hello."

"I'm fine. I'm just a little tired."

The concern in his mother's expression only deepened.

"All right... Have you heard from your brother at all?"

"He hasn't sent a letter lately," Takeshi said, his throat tightening around the words.

His mother nodded and quietly left the room.

•••

The next morning, the house was emptier than usual.

Takeshi's room was untouched.

His bed was empty.

And he was nowhere to be found.

By the afternoon, word had spread through the town.

They had found the young man near the river outside the city.

The Saionji family was once again consumed by the pain of losing one of their children.

Even so, there were things that needed to be done. Arrangements had to be made. People had to be informed.

They began by sending word to those closest to Takeshi.

Shinkotsu was among the first they reached.

They invited him to their home.

When Shinkotsu stepped inside, he saw something placed carefully on a cloth in the middle of the Saionjis' sitting room.

He didn't understand what he was looking at at first.

Then Mr. Saionji told him what had happened in the most exhausted, broken voice Shinkotsu had ever heard.

Shinkotsu froze.

"What...? Are you joking? How could this—"

And then he remembered.

He cursed himself.

For not being there.

For not noticing sooner.

For doing nothing.

For every moment he had spent believing there would always be another day.

"Takeshi cared about you very much," Mr. Saionji said quietly.

"Please... take this. I can't even bear to look at it."

Shinkotsu's hands trembled as he reached forward and accepted the small bundle.

"Can I go into his room?"

Mr. Saionji nodded.

Shinkotsu entered Takeshi's room.

He searched for a sign.

A clue.

Anything.

He didn't know what he was looking for.

What question was he even trying to answer?

Was this real?

Had his closest friend, his best man, his brother... really gone?

His eyes fell upon the loose floorboard.

He remembered something Takeshi had once mentioned:

"I hide my diary beneath the floorboards. There's no way Dad's going to have the strength to tear the whole floor apart looking for it."

He pulled up one of the loosened boards with ease and retrieved the diary.

His hands trembled as he turned through the pages.

After a few moments, he realized he could barely read them through his tears.

He left the house without another word.

He didn't say goodbye to the family.

He simply went.

He walked wherever his feet carried him, until they eventually brought him to the riverside where Takeshi had been found.

Tears streamed relentlessly down his face as he stared across the water.

Then a cry tore itself from his throat.

It was as though he were screaming for Takeshi.

Screaming at the world with all the things Takeshi himself had never been able to say.

He felt utterly lost.

From the moment he realized that he would have to bury his dearest friend, his voice only grew louder.

When he finally ran out of breath, he sank down beside the river and buried his face in his hands.

"Why?..." he whispered.

"Why him...?"

He was caught misbehaving... By whom, and what was he doing? (Feel free to speak as your ocs!)

There are stories no one remembers, and truths no one will ever hear. Sometimes, silence isn't a choice, it's the only thing that's left behind. They survived. But if you want to know what happened... don't expect the answer to come from them.

- The Tomioka family ran a greengrocery. After their parents passed away from illness, Tsutako took over the shop. She continued to run it with her fiancé, while Kaito and Giyuu helped out whenever they can.

- Kaito had dozens of friends when he was little. He was loved by everyone in the village. He was a cheerful child who always spread that happiness to the people around him.

- His closest friend was Astar. As a child, Astar rarely got to leave the house, so Kaito would secretly steal fruit from the greengrocery to bring her. Sometimes she managed to sneak out and play with him and Giyuu, but whenever she couldn't, Kaito would often visit her window so she wouldn't get lonely.

- They lived in a cold, mountainous region. Kaito wasn't very sturdy and got sick often. Sometimes the illness was so severe that Tsutako would stay by his side for hours.

- Kaito loved climbing trees. One day, he climbed one and ended up tearing his clothes from top to bottom while climbing back down. He had to sprint through the entire village just to get home and change.

- He loved animals. After meals, he'd secretly tuck a bit of bread into his pocket, crumble it up, and feed it to the birds later.

- Throughout his entire childhood, Kaito only ever got into one fight with another child. It happened because that kid knocked over the snowman Kaito had built at the entrance of the village. (He said that snowman was a guard...)

- He was incredibly curious. He could come up with the strangest questions at the strangest possible moments.

- Whenever he helped sell produce at the greengrocery, he'd constantly try to convince customers to buy more.

"Could you take four carrots instead of three?"

"Why didn't you buy any radishes? Don't you like them?"

Some customers ended up buying extra things just because they didn't want to disappoint him.

- One day, Kaito wondered why he'd been born with the mark above his eye. When he asked his sister, she told him, "The angels kissed you while you were still in Mom's tummy." He believed that wholeheartedly for a very long time.

- There was an old man in the village with an impressively long mustache. Kaito would bother him every chance he got. One day, inspired by him, Kaito drew a mustache on his own face with charcoal and proudly walked around like that. Instead of getting upset when the other children laughed at him, he laughed along with them. By the end of the day, several kids had gone home with silly charcoal doodles all over their faces too.

- He had a habit of mimicking people. One day, the village's old thief caught Kaito imitating him. The old man chased him with his cane, and Kaito scrambled up a tree to escape. He refused to come down until his brother arrived.

- Visitors would occasionally come to the village. If Kaito happened to meet them, he'd offer them small pieces of fruit if he had any to spare, as a little welcome gift. He loved sharing.

- Animal husbandry was common in the village, and as I've already mentioned, Kaito adored animals. Once, he tried to feed a goat... and ended up being chased all the way across the village by it.

///

Baby Kaito just spotted you reading this post, secretly stole a strawberry without his brother-in-law noticing, and gave it to you as a gift!

Lately, I've been giving Shinkotsu a lot of attention since he's my favorite child by far, but I shouldn't forget about Kaito either.

I mentioned before that Ren is Kaito's closest friend, but Ren isn't exactly the greatest friend... Tako was definitely the more loyal and understanding companion.

So, here are some facts about Kaito and Tako!

- Kaito found Tako shortly after joining the Corps. When he first came across him, Tako was still just a puppy. He fed him, and from that day on, they became inseparable.

- They both have a mark around the eye on the same side of their face.

- Throughout the time they spent together, Tako always tried to protect Kaito. He would especially start barking the moment he saw Sanemi or Obanai.

- After Kaito, Genya is Tako's favorite person. The two get along really well. Sometimes Tako even brings Genya small animals he's caught.

- His favorite game is tag. Tako loves chasing Kaito around until he's completely out of breath.

- Kaito is normally disgusted by saliva. He can't stand the smell of animals or being licked. But whenever Tako licked his face, Kaito would just laugh and playfully scold him.

- After Kaito died, when Giyuu cut his hair short, Tako mistook him for Kaito. That was the first and only time Tako ever willingly approached Giyuu.

- After Kaito's death, Tako spent most of his time wandering the streets. He especially recognized Tsubasa and Hagane, and would sometimes go play with them. (He still kept growling at Sanemi.) He also thought Kagero seemed terribly lonely, so he would often sleep outside his house. After all, he knew how much these people had meant to Kaito.

- Tako absolutely loved water. He enjoyed baths and would happily jump into the water for no reason at all.

- Ren once tried to feed Tako, and Tako bit her. Ever since then, Ren has instinctively taken a few steps back whenever she sees him.

-Tako tried to eat Kaito's crow several times.

!!!!!!! TW: Su!cidal Thoughts, SH !!!!!!!!

When Takeshi returned home that night, the happiness bubbling inside him refused to fade. He had seen the boy he loved, been accepted by his friends, and spent one of the most enjoyable nights of his life.

He was as happy as any fifteen-year-old boy could possibly be.

Of course... Fate had other plans.

Every good thing eventually came to an end.

By the time Takeshi reached the front door, it was already standing wide open. Light from the hallway spilled out into the darkness.

A broad figure stepped outside, a large duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Blood dripped from his hands. His beard had grown wild across his face, and every inch of him made it obvious he had long since stopped caring about his own appearance.

Taichi had thrown on a brand-new blue haori. It wasn't hard to tell he'd left in a hurry without even bothering to straighten his clothes.

It didn't look like he was leaving for somewhere. It looked like he had to escape.

Takeshi froze before stepping in front of his brother. "What's going on?! Where are you going?"

"If I stay here any longer, I'm going to kill both of them. I've had enough!"

"You're leaving me here?" Takeshi asked, his hands trembling. "Alone?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" Taichi replied. "This house isn't livable."

At that point, leaving his younger brother behind no longer mattered to him. He had supported Takeshi for as long as he could. If he'd had the chance, he knew he would have continued to.

But now...

The only thing left for him to do was fly away from the house that had imprisoned him for years.

He could no longer endure the crushing pressure their parents had placed upon him.

Both brothers carried deep wounds across their wrists, the kind that would never truly heal.

When Taichi realized he couldn't save his little brother... He chose to save himself.

No one came outside to watch him leave.

Not their mother. Not their father.

"What are you going to do once you leave?" Takeshi called after him. "Where are you going?"

"I DON'T KNOW! If I can't make it, maybe I'll die somewhere in a ditch! Is that what you wanted to hear?!"

Takeshi stopped. As tears filled his eyes, he grabbed his brother's arms. The blood running from Taichi's wrists smeared across his own hands. "Please, don't do this! You're all I have left! Please don't kill yourself..."

"Shut up!" Taichi pulled himself free.

Then he walked away.. Leaving behind an open front door...

And a little brother standing there in tears.

•••

For a long while, Takeshi simply stared at the blood staining his hands. He was too afraid to chase after his brother. But staying was just as terrifying.

He had always known it would come to this. He knew Taichi could never become the person he wanted to be while living in that house. In the end...

Someone was always going to die, or someone was going to leave.

It was Taichi who left.

Takeshi stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him. As he passed the living room, he saw his father sprawled across his bedding. His father looked at him. He didn't ask how his night had been. He didn't explain what had happened. He simply stared at his son with an expression as cold as ice. Then looked away.

Without saying a word, Takeshi headed toward his room. His mother was sitting in the hallway, her back against the wall. She had sunk onto the floor, her head buried in her hands. Closing his bedroom door as quietly as he could, Takeshi leaned against it.

He couldn't breath.

He was breathing so rapidly that he no longer knew what to do. With his father still in the house, he couldn't throw anything. He couldn't scream. He was afraid to cry.

A wave of nausea hit him. The kind he knew wouldn't pass. A deep, violent sickness.

The moment he had seen his mother sitting there, he had wanted to punch the nearest wall.

She was the reason both he and Taichi had ended up like this. She was the reason Taichi had walked away bleeding. And despite being the cause of everything... She still somehow found the strength to grieve.

Minutes passed. Takeshi couldn't even cry. He hid inside his room, his trembling hands desperately trying to steady his breathing. Living in a house without Taichi...

While he struggled just to breathe, his mother quietly entered his room. She didn't knock. She simply opened the door. She was smiling. The kind of smile that only made his nausea worse.

"What are you doing, sweetheart? How was your night?"

"Fine. I'm going to sleep now."

His mother nodded and left the room.

The moment she was gone, Takeshi threw himself onto his bed without even changing his clothes. Finally... He cried.

He did everything he could to keep himself quiet. He didn't know what else he could possibly do to ease the pain.

•••

"So... in the end, I lost the person who supported me more than anyone else. And now I don't know how I'm supposed to survive."

Shinkotsu listened in silence as he wrapped fresh bandages around Takeshi's arm. "Buddy, I know your brother understood you better than anyone else ever could. But I'm here. You know I'll stand by you no matter what."

"I know," Takeshi replied with a weary sigh. "I'm just... so tired, Shin. I'm even tired of trying."

Shinkotsu finished tying the bandage and lowered his hands. "I know how badly you want to give up... but for our sake, you have to keep going."

Takeshi lowered his hands into his lap. He bowed his head and let out another deep sigh. "My arms hurt so much."

"...This one was really deep," Shinkotsu murmured.

He pulled his friend into a hug. "Instead of doing this to yourself, you could just beat the hell out of your father. That'd solve a lot more."

Takeshi let out a quiet, exhausted laugh. "You know I can't. The one thing my father has always been good at... is strength."

"And he knows exactly how to use it."

Weeks turned into months, and months slipped into years. The bond between Shinkotsu, Takeshi, and Yuta only grew stronger with time. By then, Takeshi had come to know Jiro and Ganshu as well. Whenever fights broke out, Shinkotsu was no longer just a bystander. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, taking on anyone who challenged them.

Sometimes those confrontations escalated. Complaints passed back and forth between their families, but Shinkotsu never found himself in any real trouble. His father stood behind him like an unshakable mountain.

It had long since been decided that the young Yomigawa heir would inherit both the family's bank and its farmlands. The passing years had made him more mature, or at least, that was how his family saw him.

He was nearing the age for marriage.

His mother had begun searching among neighboring noble families for a suitable bride. Before long, an agreement had been reached: Yuta Kanzaki and Shinkotsu Yomigawa would marry when the time was right.

Shinkotsu offered no objections. There was no girl he loved, so marrying his closest friend felt more like good fortune than obligation. He and Takeshi spent plenty of time joking about it.

Yuta and Shinkotsu, however, were hardly the only ones whose futures had been arranged. It was expected that Yuta's younger sister, Umi, would marry Jiro Hayashida. Somehow, the three wealthiest and most prestigious families in the region had once again found a way to bind themselves together.

That evening, the three friends had finally managed to persuade their families to let them go out. They were going to the summer festival.

For the occasion, Shinkotsu had commissioned custom yukata, not only for himself, but for Takeshi as well.

With Shinkotsu's permission, Takeshi entered the Yomigawa mansion. After changing clothes, he stood in front of the mirror, silently studying his reflection.

The unease that had lingered within him for years seemed especially heavy today. He wasn't smiling.

"What's wrong?" Shinkotsu asked. "Don't like it? You can borrow one of my other yukata if you'd rather."

"It's not that... I love it..."

"Then what's the problem?"

Takeshi let out a quiet sigh. "I don't think I deserve something like this."

"Oh, quit talking nonsense." Shinkotsu threw an arm around his neck, pulling him close before playfully grinding his knuckles against the top of his head. "My best man deserves nothing but the best."

Takeshi laughed quietly. "You're messing up my hair. Get off."

Still grinning, Shinkotsu let him go and straightened his own clothes. "Come on. The chauffeur's waiting. Let's pick up Yuta."

Until they reached the car, Takeshi did his best to hide the tremor in his hands. Once he sat down, he let out a deep breath. He was tired of walking with his head lowered. Resting it against the window, he stared outside.

Shinkotsu sat in the front seat beside the chauffeur.

When they arrived at the Kanzaki estate, Yuta was already waiting at the gate.

She wore a lavender yukata decorated with delicate flowers. Her hair was tied into a neat bun, making her look almost angelic.

Shinkotsu stepped out of the car and opened the door for her, smiling. "If you look like that, everyone's going to be watching you instead of the fireworks."

Yuta laughed. "Hello to you too, Shin."

Takeshi offered only a faint smile before turning back to the window.

No one spoke for the rest of the drive to the festival grounds.

None of them particularly wanted to chat with Shinkotsu's father's chauffeur sitting only a few feet away. He wasn't exactly the friendliest man.

As soon as they stepped out of the car, Yuta turned to Takeshi. The concern in her eyes was impossible to miss. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Takeshi replied, forcing a smile onto his face. "Don't worry."

"Oh, give me a break," Shinkotsu cut in. "We've known each other for six years. I can tell what you had for breakfast just from the way you sigh while breathing. Come on. Tell us what's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me. Stop crowding me." Takeshi started walking ahead. "My brother and my father got into an argument this morning. That's all."

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Come on. Let's grab something to eat before we find a place to watch the fireworks."

Shinkotsu and Yuta exchanged worried glances, but decided not to press him any further for now. Shinkotsu, of course, had no intention of letting the matter go. Takeshi deliberately skipped the shrine visit and threw himself into the festival instead, and before long he was laughing as they devoured the sweets they had bought. Seeing that, Shinkotsu decided it was best not to question him for the time being. Maybe tonight would do him some good.

After finishing their sweets, they wandered over to the game stalls. Yuta put on an impressive performance at the goldfish scooping booth, catching five fish in a single round.

Afterward, they stopped at a shateki stand.

The rules were simple: they had to shoot prizes off the shelves behind the counter with an air rifle. Whatever they managed to knock down, they could keep.

Takeshi went first. His eyes settled on a set of paintbrushes displayed on one of the shelves, and he took aim. His first shot missed.

The second merely grazed another prize without knocking it down.

The third disappeared harmlessly into empty space.

Chuckling at himself, Takeshi straightened up and handed the rifle back to the attendant. "I suck."

"You really do," a familiar, deep voice replied.

Takeshi froze.

Turning around, he found himself face to face with the younger son of the Shirokawa family.

Ganshu.

Tall and broad-shouldered, Ganshu had tanned skin and short, spiky hair. Like Jiro, he kept company with people Takeshi would rather avoid, but over the years the two of them had still managed to have the occasional civil conversation.

Takeshi's heart began to race. Every breath sent a sharp pain through his chest.

Jiro stepped out from behind Ganshu and looked at Shinkotsu with a fake smile. "Isn't it awful that they let stray dogs into the festival?"

"Yeah," Shinkotsu replied mockingly. "I'd have preferred it if you hadn't been allowed in."

As Jiro muttered something under his breath, too angry to say it aloud, Ganshu paid for three shots.

With two of the three pellets, he knocked down the very paintbrush set Takeshi had been trying to win.

When the attendant picked it up and handed it over, Ganshu grinned as he looked down at the brushes in his hand.

Stepping aside, he made room for Jiro. Meeting Shinkotsu's eyes with open defiance, Jiro paid for his own three shots.

Shinkotsu folded his arms, silently accepting the unspoken challenge.

Meanwhile, Takeshi couldn't take his eyes off Ganshu.

He watched the way the boy casually twirled the paintbrushes in his hand, committing every tiny movement to memory. Whenever Ganshu caught him staring, Takeshi quickly looked away.

Yuta noticed. She couldn't make sense of it. None of the possibilities crossing her mind seemed to fit Takeshi at all.

At that time, Jiro missed all three shots in spectacular fashion.

When Shinkotsu took the rifle, he aimed for the prizes sitting on the highest, most distant shelf.

With his first shot, he knocked a prize from one of the middle shelves.

The second earned him a small pouch of candy from the front row.

With his final shot, he brought down a high-quality kinchaku that had been deliberately secured to the very back shelf.

As he lowered the rifle and set it aside, his eyes drifted to Jiro. A smug grin spread across his face. "Move along. You lost again."

"Were we even competing?" Jiro scoffed. "Whatever. You cheated."

"...Excuse me?"

"You cheated, asshole! You had them give me a broken rifle!"

"We used the exact same damn rifle, idiot! If you're just bad at it, how's that my problem?!"

"Oh, shut up!"

Rolling up his sleeves without the slightest concern for causing a scene, Shinkotsu marched straight toward Jiro.

Takeshi grabbed his arm. "It's not worth it. Come on."

For reasons known only to himself, Jiro started marching toward Shinkotsu as well. This time, Ganshu caught him by the shoulder. "Don't, man. You're still too young to die."

Jiro and Shinkotsu locked eyes. They narrowed them at exactly the same moment.

Then, as if by silent agreement, they both turned their backs and walked away in opposite directions.

As Shinkotsu, Takeshi, and Yuta continued on, Takeshi slowed to a stop for a moment. He looked back. His gaze remained fixed on Ganshu. Every second he looked at him made his heart ache. It became harder to breathe.

Yet somehow... Looking away felt even worse.

Ganshu noticed.

He set the paintbrushes he had won back on the counter, caught Takeshi's eye, and gave him a wink. He didn't say a word. Even so, it was obvious what he meant. "Don't let it get to you."

Then he turned and walked off to catch up with his friend.

Takeshi remained where he stood, unable to move.

•••

For the rest of the night, Takeshi didn't take part in a single game. He didn't eat another bite. No matter how much Shinkotsu tried to coax him, he simply couldn't. His stomach was in knots.

Not once throughout the entire evening did Ganshu's wink leave his mind.

The paintbrush set he had taken from the stall remained clutched tightly in his hands.

Hours had passed since the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. As the festival drew to a close, people settled onto the grass to watch the fireworks. The three of them had managed to claim a spot near the front. Sitting between Yuta and Shinkotsu, Takeshi pulled his knees against his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

There was a lump in his throat that refused to go away. He knew exactly what he was feeling.

As difficult as it had been to accept, he knew. He had already found a name for it months ago...

"What a night..." Shinkotsu sighed, flopping onto his back in the grass. "I'm exhausted."

Yuta nodded before turning toward Takeshi. She gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Takeshi's hands began trembling more violently than ever. He was afraid of how his friends would react.

He thought there was something wrong with him.

If anyone else found out... he believed he could even be beaten for it.

He had been hiding this part of himself for over a year.

He couldn't bear it anymore.

"𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑘." "𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑜."

"𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ? 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑎𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛."

"𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑖."

His eyes filled with tears.

Lowering his head as he fought not to cry, he spoke in a trembling voice.

"I... I have something I need to tell you. But you have to promise you won't tell anyone."

Shinkotsu sat upright. "Who else would I even tell, idiot? You really think I'd sell out your secret?"

"He's right," Yuta said softly. "Whatever you're going through, you don't have to go through it alone. We're here."

The tears finally spilled over.

Barely above a whisper, Takeshi confessed, "I... I think I like boys... If you want to stop being my friends, I'd understand, but-"

"ARE YOU STUPID?!" Shinkotsu and Yuta shouted at the exact same time.

Takeshi flinched. For a split second, he thought they were yelling because he liked men.

"Are you sure?" Shinkotsu asked. "I mean... really sure?"

"I'm sure... Every book I've ever read about love... every person I've asked... they've all described exactly what I'm feeling..."

"I knew it!" Shinkotsu blurted out. "I knew it! Even those rival generals in the history books always acted like they were in love!"

"You... you're not judging me?"

"Why would I?" Shinkotsu shrugged. "Since when are there rules for who you're allowed to fall in love with? Besides, this works out great for me. If you take the guys, that just leaves more girls for me."

Takeshi stared at him with his mouth hanging open. "I thought... I thought you'd just walk away..."

Instead, Yuta pulled him into a hug. Her eyes closed as one hand gently rubbed his back. "It's okay...It really is. People like you have always existed. You're not abnormal.

You're just human."

The pale-skinned boy couldn't stop crying anymore. He buried his face against his friend's shoulder, doing everything he could to keep his sobs quiet. The relief flooding through him was impossible to measure.

He cried because he had never been able to accept himself.

And he cried because, despite everything, his friends had accepted him without hesitation. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you two..."

"Standing up to Jiro was enough for me," Shinkotsu replied as he wrapped both of them in a hug. Yuta laughed softly, stroking Takeshi's hair.

When they finally pulled apart, Shinkotsu tilted his head.

"So... Is there someone special? Or are you just full of love for every guy you meet?"

Takeshi hesitated. He looked at Yuta. Then at Shinkotsu.

Taking a deep breath, he quietly answered,

"Ganshu-"

At that exact moment, the fireworks exploded overhead.

It was almost as though the world itself had sworn to drown out Shinkotsu's voice. "OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"Hear me out-"

"YOU COULD'VE HAD ANY MAN YOU WANTED, AND YOU CHOSE HIM?""

"Well... I don't think I could've had any man-"

"OF COURSE YOU COULD! YOU'RE HANDSOME, YOU'RE SMART- WHAT MAN WOULDN'T WANT THAT?!"

Takeshi burst into laughter. Shinkotsu buried his face in his hands. "My brother... Seriously? Ganshu isn't even a man!"

"Shin..."

"He's a rat. A loser. He's never gonna make you happy!"

"That's okay," Takeshi replied, smiling through tear-stained cheeks. "I'm not loving him because I expect him to make me happy.

"I love him because I want him to be happy."

Shinkotsu let out a long, defeated sigh. Takeshi gently took hold of his head and turned it toward the sky.

As the fireworks painted brilliant patterns across the night, Takeshi slipped one arm around Yuta's shoulders and the other around Shinkotsu's, pulling them both close.

For the first time in his life...

He felt as though he was shining just like those fireworks.

Maybe he wasn't wealthy. Maybe his family was broken. Maybe society would never accept him. Maybe he was exhausted by life itself.

But...

He had the two best friends in the world.

The child born beneath a string of victories continued through life without knowing loss.

Shinkotsu was now nine years old. Since his birth, his family had been blessed with two more sons. Each of the Yomigawa brothers was special in his own way. Though they were completely different from one another, they were happy to share the same roof.

Of course, being born into such a noble family came with responsibilities. Ever since Shinkotsu had become old enough to understand the world around him, he had been receiving lessons.

His father had hired tutors from across nearby regions of Japan for him and his brothers, filling every day of the week with studies. As the future heir, Shinkotsu was taught not only academic subjects but also what it meant to become a capable leader.

From time to time, his father would call him into his office, asking him to examine documents and offer his thoughts so he could gauge his son's progress. He never missed the opportunity to give him advice.

Shinkotsu's favorite lessons, however, were martial arts. He was taught how to fight with wooden swords, long staffs, and his bare fists. Though not as frequently as his other training, he also practiced archery. Calligraphy and piano lessons, on the other hand, were the most boring things he had ever endured.

It was a Thursday around noon. With the sun hanging high overhead, Shinkotsu was in the middle of his bojutsu training. His younger brother Kazumasa watched from beneath the shade in the courtyard. He was six years old at the time.

He was his older brother's biggest admirer in the world.

He always would be.

Whatever Shinkotsu did, Kazumasa wanted to do as well, trailing after him like a little shadow. Every exchange between Shinkotsu and his instructor was etched into the boy's memory.

The sharp crack of wooden staffs colliding echoed through the street. Shinkotsu spun his staff effortlessly, parrying every strike his instructor threw at him with astonishing precision before launching swift counterattacks of his own.

His talent for combat was extraordinary.

He loved it, and he devoted himself to it completely.

When the lesson came to an end, his instructor looked at him. They exchanged bows, and the man smiled. "You're making excellent progress. I'll see you at our next lesson."

Shinkotsu grinned. As soon as the instructor left the courtyard, Kazumasa rushed over to his brother, his face lit up by a smile filled with admiration. "You're amazing! Please teach me too!"

Shin patted his little brother on the head and replied proudly, "If I have time, sure. Go find yourself a staff, and I'll happily beat you with it."

Kazumasa only smiled even wider, his innocence completely unshaken.

As Shinkotsu walked past him and headed inside, Kazumasa hurried after him. Shinkotsu's footsteps eventually led him to his father's office. As he walked down the hallway, he casually set his training staff aside. The moment he knocked on the office door, he slipped back into the manners of a perfect young gentleman, placing a polite smile upon his face.

"Father, with your permission, I'd like to stay out until dinner."

"By yourself?" Masanori asked, wearing a proud smile.

Shinkotsu shook his head. "I was hoping to visit Yuta's garden, if her family allows it."

"Very well. Change your clothes, and don't be late for dinner. If her family refuses, let me know."

Shinkotsu nodded before closing the office door behind him. Kazumasa looked up at him with wide, shining eyes.

"Can I come too?"

Shinkotsu laughed. "I'm not taking you with me. Don't even think about it."

As Kazumasa began to pout, Shinkotsu paid him no mind and returned to his room. He changed into casual clothes, combed his hair, and left the mansion.

He remained the picture of a well-bred young noble until the very moment he stepped outside.

Then he ran all the way to the Kanzaki estate.

When he spotted Yuta in the courtyard, finally free from her own lessons, a grin spread across his face.

Yuta was the eldest daughter of the Kanzaki family. Calmness and kindness seemed to have been woven into her very nature before she was even born. Etiquette lessons had never been difficult for her. She always handled everything flawlessly.

Even though she was still only a child.

The moment Shinkotsu made his way inside, Yuta noticed him and smiled as well. Closing the book she had been reading, she set it beside her.

Shinkotsu dropped down next to her with a grin. "Still reading books? How boring."

"And you still don't read."

"I do. I just hate every second of it. My father expects too much from me."

Yuta let out a soft giggle. "I can tell. You really care about living up to his expectations, don't you?"

"Like I have any other choice." Shinkotsu sighed dramatically, staring up at the sky. "I'd give anything if he'd just leave me alone so I could become a samurai... but that's not happening. Looks like my only option is to study hard and take over the bank."

He paused before adding, "And the farmlands too."

Yuta giggled again before turning her own gaze toward the sky. "I know you'll accomplish great things."

Shinkotsu leaned back, folding his hands behind his head with a confident grin.

"As always."

Just then, something fell from the sky into the courtyard.

A rock?

No.

It was a notebook.

Frowning, the boy stood up, walked over, and picked it up. Its pages were covered with messy handwriting and rough sketches.

Then shouting erupted from beyond the wall.

"You freak! If I shoved a pencil up my dog's ass, it'd draw better than you! You're wasting your time, and you've even got the nerve to defend this garbage!"

As Shinkotsu climbed onto the fence for a better look, Yuta appeared behind him. She silently watched the scene unfold over his shoulder. The boy whose notebook had been thrown stood frozen where he was.

"You spoiled brats could never understand..." he muttered.

His voice was anything but calm, though it was quiet enough that only someone standing a few meters away could hear it.

The boy facing him had hair that fell to the nape of his neck. Beside him stood another boy with dark skin and spiky hair. The darker-haired one remained silent, simply watching.

But the other boy...

Shinkotsu knew him.

And it would be generous to say he disliked him.

It was Jiro Hayashida.

The heir to the Hayashida family had never been the sort to make an effort to get along with anyone. He was like a dog that had spent its whole life on a leash; always barking, never biting.

The boy with his back turned to Shinkotsu, whose clothes made it obvious he came from a middle-class family, stared unflinchingly at the other two.

"I'll find you," Jiro said. "We'll meet again, and when we do, I swear I won't leave until I've beaten the shit out of you."

As the other two turned to leave, the insulted boy started after them. His hands trembled with anger.

The moment he took a step, Shinkotsu called out. "Hey, freak. Is this yours?" He raised the notebook in his hand.

The boy stopped and turned toward them. His eyes shifted from the grin on Shinkotsu's face to the concern written across Yuta's. "My name isn't Freak. And yes, that's mine."

"Then what's your name?"

"Takeshi. Give me my notebook."

Still grinning, Shinkotsu flipped through its pages. "Nice drawings, Takeshi. Why don't you hang out with us?"

"Why would I?" the boy replied, still clearly on guard. Yuta took over before Shinkotsu could answer.

"The two of us were just getting bored... Would you like to join us? I'm Yuta Kanzaki, and this is-"

"Shinkotsu Yomigawa! And I've decided you're my new best friend. Climb over."

Takeshi scratched his head. "...What?"

"Dude, are you stupid? Hop the fence and get over here."

"I got that part. Who are you to decide that? If anything, I'm the one choosing you as my best friend!" With that, he climbed onto the fence.

Shinkotsu grabbed his arm and pulled him up before the two of them jumped down together. As Shinkotsu handed the notebook back, he stayed silent. Yuta spoke instead. "Weren't they being a little too cruel? Why were they picking on you?"

"I have no idea," Takeshi answered as he accepted the notebook. "I guess they were just looking for someone to entertain themselves with."

"They're always like that." Shinkotsu shrugged. "You should've punched one of them."

"I wish I had."

Shinkotsu rested a hand on his shoulder. "So, what family are you from? What does your father do?"

"Why do you care? We're not rich like you think."

"No, that's pretty obvious." Shinkotsu gave him a once-over. "Remind me later. I'll give you some silk fabric."

"I don't want it. Keep your filthy money."

Shinkotsu grinned.

He liked that someone had answered him like that.

Most people either obeyed whatever he said because of his family's name or kept their distance from him altogether.

But Takeshi stood his ground. Shinkotsu found himself genuinely impressed.

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon in the Kanzaki family's garden until it was nearly time for dinner.

Takeshi showed them the drawings and stories filling his notebook. There were dozens of original characters and just as many fictional tales. Nearly every inch of every page had something scribbled onto it.

Shinkotsu stopped him on the page depicting a terrifying, demon-like creature. "What's this?"

"I call him God's Punishment. He's the coolest thing I've ever drawn." Takeshi pointed at the strange figure dressed in dark, unusual clothing with a lighter-colored hood whose edges looked worn and frayed. "Ever since he was born, people have believed his bones can grant any wish, so he's hunted across every corner of space."

"Have you picked a name for him?" Yuta asked. God's Punishment didn't sound much like a proper name.

"I think it's an awesome name," Shinkotsu said, immediately coming to Takeshi's defense.

He loved ridiculous ideas like that.

"I haven't decided yet. Why don't you two choose one?"

"Hmm..." Yuta thought for a moment. "How about... Sanko?"

"Why?" Shinkotsu teased. "Is that your boyfriend's name?"

Laughing, Takeshi pulled a pencil from his pocket and scribbled beneath the character in rushed handwriting. "Sanko..."

When Shinkotsu noticed the sky beginning to darken, he pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.

He was almost late.

Jumping to his feet, he said, "I've gotta go."

"See you!" Yuta called.

Rather than wasting time walking to the gate, Shinkotsu climbed back over the fence.

Takeshi stood up as well. "It was nice meeting you, Yuta. Can I come back sometime?"

"Of course! You're welcome anytime!"

Smiling, Takeshi hopped over the fence after Shinkotsu.

Since they were heading in the same direction, they broke into a run. "So where do you live?" Takeshi asked between strides.

Shinkotsu pointed ahead. "Just around that corner."

"Wanna race?"

Shinkotsu only grinned. Without answering, he suddenly accelerated, sprinting as though someone were chasing him.

When they reached the intersection, the boys split off in different directions.

They waved goodbye before each disappeared into his own home.

By the time Shinkotsu entered the dining hall, the table had already been set. His parents and brothers were all seated. Even the servants had stopped bringing out dishes.

It was obvious. Everyone had been waiting for him.

His youngest brother Masaki, barely two years old, was crying. Not because he was spoiled. Because he was hungry.

His nanny was quietly trying to soothe him, but without the lady of the house's permission, she didn't dare feed the child so much as a single bite.

For just a moment, the thought that his mother's inhuman discipline had claimed his brothers as victims as well made Shinkotsu's heart ache.

He paused. Then straightened his clothes. Like a little gentleman far older than his years, he took his seat.

His mother's sharp gaze settled upon him. "I'm very disappointed to see you arrive late, Shinkotsu. We were forced to wait for you."

"I'm sorry, Mother. I lost track of time," Shinkotsu replied. After his father began the meal, everyone else followed. His mother never looked at him.

As she cut the meat on her plate, she spoke evenly. "What you did was nothing but irresponsible. I expected better from you."

Shinkotsu said nothing. He lowered his eyes to his plate, took a bite of meat, and made sure to spend the rest of the evening in silence.

At least until he was finally released from his mother's judgment.

•••

So... Who do you think won the race?

It was the end of July. Summer reigned in all its intensity, blanketing every corner of Japan in relentless heat.

Kurenai Yomigawa was in the final days of her pregnancy. The child in her womb seemed impatient to see the world, greet the sky, and run against the wind. He had made every one of those nine months painfully difficult for his mother.

Masanori Yomigawa, the young head of the family, refused to be satisfied with the income from the farmlands passed down by his ancestors. He was always searching for opportunities to elevate his family beyond its current standing. Ever since taking over the management of the estates, he had significantly increased their productivity. The noble Yomigawa name was enjoying the most prosperous era in its history.

Servants hurried through the mansion's halls. As the birth of the young leader's first child drew near, an air of anxious urgency settled over the household. Kurenai was tense. She was in pain.

On the evening of July 28, Masanori dressed himself in an expensive suit before leaning down to kiss his wife's forehead. "I'll be back before midnight."

"I hope everything goes well..." Kurenai murmured. Dark circles had settled beneath her eyes from exhaustion. One hand never left her swollen belly, gently stroking it. Masanori smiled. "It will. I know it will."

He was on his way to a meeting to become a shareholder in one of the city's largest banks. He had complete confidence in himself. He would accomplish what those before him never could. He would raise the Yomigawa family to even greater heights.

He would make a respected name worthy of even greater respect.

Leaving his wife alone in their spacious bedroom, he stepped out of the mansion. His chauffeur opened the door of the waiting automobile, and the car disappeared into the streets of the city as Kurenai watched from the window.

She let out a weary sigh. A sharp kick from the baby twisted her expression with pain, and she rubbed the small bulge beneath her palm.

"You could come out already and put us both out of our misery..."

•••

As the evening wore on, the lady of the house's contractions grew stronger. When her water finally broke, everyone realized there was no time left to wait.

The tension inside the mansion was unlike anything else. The servants and midwives worked in fearful silence, knowing that a single mistake could ruin their lives forever.

At the very same time, Masanori was on the verge of closing the deal. The atmosphere around the table had grown tense, but he handled it with remarkable composure.

The minutes slipped by. Kurenai's agonized screams echoed throughout the mansion. Sweat streamed down her face, mixing with her tears.

Midnight came and went.

The date was now July 29.

Masanori still had not returned home. The one person Kurenai needed most had already broken the promise he had made.

But he had secured the agreement.

With a courteous smile, he shook the bank owner's hand.

At that exact moment, a newborn's cry rose alongside Kurenai's fading screams.

"My lady... You have a son," the midwife whispered, gazing down at the infant in her arms.

A wave of relief washed over everyone present.

Kurenai wept.

She gathered the little boy into her arms as he continued crying with astonishing strength.

She had given birth to an heir.

•••

When Masanori finally returned to the mansion and entered their bedroom, he found his wife utterly exhausted, cradling a newborn in her arms.

He stopped in his tracks.

"You're late," Kurenai said quietly.

"I'm sorry..." Masanori murmured, his cheeks flushing with guilt. Sitting beside the bed, he gently lifted the cloth covering the baby's face. Soft moss-green hair clung in tiny tufts to the infant's head.

A smile spread across his face.

He leaned down and kissed the baby's forehead.

"May I hold him?"

Kurenai carefully placed their son into his arms.

As Masanori held the child for the first time, tears welled in his eyes. The baby's face scrunched up as his father's finger brushed gently across his cheek.

"We'll call you Shinkotsu..."

And so, on the very day Masanori Yomigawa concluded his first great business deal, he finally met the son he had long awaited.

Shinkotsu had entered the world bearing good fortune.

The road awaiting him would be one filled with joy, triumph, and endless promise.

I'd like to tell you a little about my story, Wager of Bones. Some time ago, I posted a short introduction featuring my OC, Shinkotsu. Now, I'll finally be sharing his life and story with all of you.

First of all, if everything goes as planned, this fic is going to be fairly long. Because of that, I've decided to divide it into seasons. Most of Season One has already been written and illustrated, so starting tomorrow, I'll begin posting from Season One, Chapter One.

Writing each chapter and drawing its poster usually takes me about 1.5–2 days, so if all goes well, you can expect a new chapter every two days. Once a season is finished, we'll take a break while I prepare the trailer and artwork for the next one.

I'd also like to say a few words about the first season. You'll notice quite a few time skips, since the story begins with Shinkotsu's infancy. To keep the pacing from becoming slow, I've skipped over less important moments. So rather than focusing on heavy emotional impact, the first season is mainly meant to establish the world, the characters, and the foundation of the story.

This story means a great deal to me. I don't know if I'll be able to convey the depth I feel for it through my writing, but it will always hold a very special place in my heart. That's why I'll keep writing it, even if nobody reads it.

I've been talking about this project for a long time, so I wanted to make an official announcement before it begins. Thank you so much to everyone who's willing to take the time to read it. I truly appreciate it.

(Also, prepare yourself, there will be quite a few Hamilton references.)

your OC needed money, they accepted the offer and woke up in that room filled with hundreds of people they didn't realize the seriousness of the situation until the first game came out, but they soon understood: the games were real...

what are they doing? which games are they good at? If they are going to die, how are they dying? It doesn't matter which season it is

same dynamic, same love, different generation

u/head_phones017 gave the idea!! credits goes to her, also she helped me finding things to write about fanon kaito. so, thank you twin!

TW: Su!c!dal Th0ughts, alc0holism (?)

`𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑇. 𝑆𝑎𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑗𝑖'𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙.

My father is an alcoholic, and I like that.

At the very least, alcohol makes him a better person than he is sober.

I am the younger son of a middle-class family. For a long time, my older brother was the favorite of my mother and father. He was quiet, successful, and always made them proud.

Until the day he could no longer bear the pressure.

When he finally revealed himself to be someone different from what they wanted, all of their expectations shifted onto me. I am not as intelligent or hardworking as he is. I never was, and I never will be. But I'm happy for him. At least he managed to free himself from the poison of our parents.

Even if it hurts to know I was the only one who saw it coming and could do nothing to stop it...

The consequences of my mistakes, and the wrong choices I made knowingly, have been severe. I can no longer go even an hour without trembling. Every time I tried to open up, every time I asked someone to listen, it led nowhere. No one took me seriously. No one still does. At this point, asking anything of them feels shameless.

Everyone thought I was someone who dealt with his problems, whether foolishly or wisely. The truth is, I believed that too. I thought I was brave. I thought I could make it through.

It turns out I'm nothing more than a coward, and now I can no longer find the courage to raise my voice.

Now that my failure has become impossible to hide, there is no one left beside me. I know I have failed to meet their expectations, though they do not know it yet. I do not want to see the disappointment on their faces when they find out. The faith they place in me makes me sick to my stomach.

I can't endure it anymore. I'm done.

My thanks go to my closest friends, Shin and Yuta. They ignored status and circumstance to befriend someone like me, and for that I am grateful. Even though I never truly felt like myself around them, they never saw me as different. I know that much.

They were the best thing life ever gave me.

Even if the face staring back at me in the mirror no longer feels like my own, they saw what truly mattered; the part of me that belonged to me, deep within my heart. I hope they can live a good life together. I hope they never drift apart for as long as they live. But this is as far as I can go.

I'm sorry, Shin. I'll never be the best man at your wedding.

And I'm sorry, Yuta. I'll never get to teach you how to make a kite.

I suppose this is where I should stop. I shouldn't have even come this far. There is nothing left for me to leave behind. But I would like to depart with my best wishes for you two. Thank you for everything.

Goodbye.

this is my new project kid, say hi

some questions wont be answered because this guy will have his own fic

1- baby kaito

2- the times hagane and hina adopted him

3- first year of highschool

4- last year of highschool

5- dad and computer engineer kaito