Immortal Storm

“He wanted to die.”

How Itsuki knew that I was awake, I have no idea. But the words were passed to me over the fire he lit, under some trees to the west of a lake. I didn’t know where we were, but I had woken once during the day when Itsuki had fallen asleep and taken a look around. An attempt to distract myself, I think.

I nodded in response without opening my eyes, unwilling to confirm it any further than that. Then again, I get the feeling that Itsuki was more aware of the situation than I was. Perhaps that was the reason for his silence after I made my choice, he knew something like this would happen, but he thought I needed to be allowed to see it through, no matter how much I wished later that I hadn’t.

True though, I still don’t completely understand why Aki did what he did.

I think my most convincing theory has to do with the things he said to me before it happened: “You’re the one who brought it upon yourself, I told you. You’re weak and fragile, you’re cute and naïve… You practically cry out for people to protect you!” I can’t forget the words. I don’t think I ever will. Every second of that incident will remain in my memory through every moment of my eternity. The memory of Immortals has never seemed to so cruel to me.

It was because he wanted the innocence I think, he wanted the naiveté, the weakness that evidently spurred others to protect it. I was more human than they.

Was it youth? I still don’t believe I’m as human as Aki would apparently have me believe, though it would explain why the others tend to linger around me – “Oh come on, why do you think Itsuki and all the rest won’t leave you alone?” – though to be honest I don’t particularly like that idea. It’s a characteristic I cannot control, so when I eventually loose that human-like naiveté… will they all just leave me?

I’d like to think that isn’t true. I’d like to think that no matter how much I change, they will still be there laughing with me. But now I’m no longer sure.

“He wanted… me to kill him.”

I finally opened my eyes, but it did no good since I was crying again and everything was blurred. Was it possible to cry so much? And when had I started again? Or had I never actually stopped?

“Kizuna…” Then Itsuki was beside me, his thumb brushing the tender skin beneath my eyes, wiping the tears away. “You give your tears too freely.”

I half-snorted at the words, after all how could I help it? I felt Itsuki’s other hand lace fingers with mine, and it was an oddly comforting gesture. But the closeness only prompted me to press my damp face against his chest, using him as the support I needed while I got out the sobs and tears that still needed to be experienced. He didn’t seem to mind, he rested his chin on top of my head and murmured something that to this day I can’t remember.

I lay there with Itsuki for a long time. I don’t know how long exactly, and I don’t much care. Itsuki might have been a flirtatious, egotistic bastard but he knew what to say and what to do to comfort someone. I’m grateful for that at least.

Aki used to comfort me, and this felt different, but I didn’t dislike it. I welcomed the solace, the familiarity. It was Aki I didn’t understand, not Itsuki.

I knew that the moment we met, the moment Yoru introduced us and he gained that little light to his eyes, that Aki knew I was going to be the one to end his life. But why didn’t he find a student somewhere and do it that way? Or take ritual suicide? Taiyo just said he was ‘twisted’, as if that would explain it. But I just didn’t understand at all.

“It really is an appropriate place to die.”

He even used my creation as his resting ground, as if he knew I had the ability to do it. The proof was in the smooth crack that ran over the surface of my containment pendant. Was that why he killed Karei, because she also had the ability to create worlds? That’s what I wondered at the time, before my accidental stroke ended it. Then again, just the fact that Aki intended it made it feel like it wasn’t accidental, and that made it hurt even more.

“Kizuna,” my real name, why should my real name hurt so much? “I know you will, but don’t blame yourself. You need to understand that this is what Taiyo means when he tells you to be suspicious.” I pulled away from him, my eyes flickering up from the damp stain on his shirt to meet his eyes.

“When Taiyo…?” Yes, he always told me that. I had never understood why being suspicious was so important to Immortals.

“Immortals do not interfere in the business of others. That’s the natural way of things. It’s just how we live.” Hearing Itsuki speak so seriously was disquieting, however it made me feel as though he really did understand me.

“But you did.” I pointed out, remembering the fights and duels the two of them had shared. It seemed so long ago that any of that happened. I remembered how I had been mostly amused by their fighting, at least until it turned serious, but then that didn’t happen very often.

“I did not.” I frowned, uncomprehending. “I challenged him only before you made your choice. After that it was no longer my business.”

The way he said it, made it all make sense. That was why Taiyo had been accommodating even though he hated Aki, that was why Yoru had pulled back, that was why Itsuki had been so quiet.

But this acceptance of boundaries between one Immortal’s business and another’s… I hated it.

As if knowing that I now understood, Itsuki nodded and lightly kissed my forehead, almost in the way of an apology. I looked up at him, trying to read his expression, but couldn’t. I still couldn’t do that. But if I could guess at the translation of the visible emotions, I would say he looked poignant. He was just looking down at me, silent.

Then I was crying again. I think even having a small grasp of the reasoning behind Aki’s actions was upsetting to me.

It took a moment to realise that Itsuki had moved, that I was pressed closer to him, that he was kissing my face. He was kissing away my tears, but it only made me cry harder.

I was remembering how Aki’s hair had run black, the mark of someone who had been killed without giving their energies. He did not disappear as Rei had done, his final duty over with, and his face held an unfamiliar smile. He wasn’t the person I knew, and the arms I had loved to lie in were not his. Or so it seemed.

Now I was to carry on without him, to keep walking the path before me. I would never make another world, I knew that for certain, but I would work to see reality for what it was even if I did retain the naiveté others often commented on.

My life, my name, will go on.

It will be longer than others, more complicated than an unbreakable knot, and with the sour tang that accompanies the sweetness of my experiences. My memories will haunt me through my share of eternity.

And that’s what eternity is; an endless stream of people and places, of memories and promises. It doesn’t end, only continues its journey trading one soul for the next. An endless cycle of inevitability that can’t touch us. Because Immortals know nothing of inevitability except the End, when it no longer matters.

And love, yes love.

Eternity would be empty without it. Even Immortals who don’t notice the rarity of it over their long years realise the value of love.

Of course, when diamonds aren’t rare anymore, they’re not as precious. So does that mean the lack of rarity makes love less precious? Well that’s not true, is it? Diamonds can’t compete with love after all.

But nevertheless, we go on. I’ll have to live. I’ll walk straight-backed into eternity.

And no matter who I love, or who I would come to love, I will always hold the knowledge that I have my life, my name. A spirit name. An eternal name.

A name that, unlike love, will never fade away.

End.