Chapter 9

To be honest, Ken was not one who fervently worshipped the powers that be. He didn't place his whole belief in the so-called Gods, either.

It was only something of a habit, by now.

The shrine was cold at this time of the year. Trees around the sacred site, usually so evergreen, has shed their leaves at the start of the new season. A few brown-bellied pigeons that made their nests on the barren trees cooed at his arrival, knowing him by sight and scent by now. Some younger, braver ones flew down from their perches at the temple's roof, surrounding Ken on all sides. One was even familiar enough to start pecking at the ground near his feet.

Ken laughed quietly as picked up his pace, carefully stepping around the many Streptopelia orientalis as they followed him to the small well just a little behind the shrine's biggest tree. He put a small plastic bag and his school bag on an empty storage box reserved for visitors, rolling the sleeves of his shirt before he cleansed his mouth and hands in the temizuya.

The ritual was all too familiar by now.

Walking up the stairs after bowing at the torii, keeping to the left side of the sandō , cleaning his mouth and hands at the temizuya, standing at the front of the main shrine, ringing the bell twice, putting a leftover five yen coin inside the offering box, bowing deeply twice until his back was flat, clapping twice again quietly, bringing his hands together, lowering them while he said his prayer.

It started out as a plea for answer.

He was eight years old, back then. His childish mind has been so fixated on the concept that something stronger than himself would be able to answer the questions that plagued him ever since Ken received his deceased mother's autopsy report.

Then it evolved into a plea for justice.

He has wished that someone out there, who was cruel enough to orphan him would get their own retribution for the years he spent as an object of pity and insincere offers of adoption.

But after October 2009, him going to offer his prayer at the shrine as usual has changed into a plea for forgiveness.

For his own sake, and for Aragaki-san's sake. By then, he finally understood that holding on to his grief and his own wish for justice were just mere acts of lashing out for things he couldn't change. Even if he somehow got his wishes granted, it would be ultimately on the cost of someone else's life, and when he asked to the still beating heart that resided within himself, Ken found that he didn't wish to trample on or disrespect the cause of his mother's death. He no longer wished to avenge anyone, and he would respect their wish for Ken to live on.

What little he remembered from the incident has changed into something vague and blurry. It might be that his childish mind has distorted too many things, or it was simply that the incident was only something minuscule, unimportant to the whole scheme of the universe. Ken remembered the feeling of truly realizing how small and helpless he was.

Because, she was covering his body from whatever caused the incident. Her first instinct as a mother had been to protect him, always has been. Even if the incident never happened, something else would take her away from him. Either by sickness, old age or a threat to her son's life. Because Ken was precious to her. Because to her, Ken was someone worth dying for.

Ken has confronted her killer, a few years later. The strength of his revenge has seemed so childish and useless when he finally heard that it was all just a mistake. They were just walking in a wrong place at the wrong time. It was just so… futile.

Aragaki-san readily confessed the extent of his crime to Ken just a mere minutes away from being shot and dying on the pool of his own blood. Aragaki-san's first reaction when both of them were trapped in a back alley shooting had been to protect him. Just like what his mother has done back then. Until now, Ken still didn't believe that someone who has caused him to tremble at the sight of a gaping wound would die simply by blood loss. Aragaki-san has been so untouchable, so infallibly tough that Ken didn't think that a mere bullet could snuff out his life, just like that. And he did, just like any humans.

There was a period of blank left after that, but he could clearly remember that the first time he walked the steep stairs that led him to the shrine after a long while, he didn't know for what sake he was supposed to pray for.

Ken had just received his middle school diploma, back then. Surrounded by happy faces of students and proud parents as he stood there all alone. He didn't know where to turn, to whom he should share the glossy, new paper smell of his diploma. Even though Ken was the one who stood at the podium and gave the valedictorian speech, even though he got the highest score that admitted him straight into a recently build STEM school in Tokyo, he ended up here standing alone.

Ken rejected the offer.

That day, as the spring breeze ruffled his hair with the warm midday sun beating against his back, his feet has unconsciously led him back to the shrine. The sight of those all too familiar stairs soothed the unnamed rawness that invaded him, just a little bit.

Koromaru has been waiting for him at the top of the stairs, barking excitedly at Ken as the dog's tail wagged furiously. It was so serene and normal that his lips had twitched upward, inviting the well-loved Shiba Inu to nuzzle for a pat as if its mind sensed their familiarity and Ken's unsaid need for the comfort. He took in the simple affection as he knelt and ran his hand through Koromaru's shiny fur, uncomplicated in its gift and meaning before he stood up. Koromaru closely following at his heels.

Ken walked up to the shrine, doing the same rituals he has done ever since he was eight and clasped his hands together, with the scent of sakura blossom and earthy scent of baking soil around him. His ears listened to the sound of silty water flowing from the temizuya and his mind cleared by the damp scent of old stones. They were the first fragrance of spring, thinner than mist, warm as sunlight.

As he took another deep breath and closed his eyes, it was as if something took away all of his darkest wish from the hellhole cycle of revenge, turning him inside out and spatting him back to the surface as the person he was now. It left him bereft, and for once he was adrift. Aimless. Purposeless.

But a wind chime tinkled nearby, and the sound carried with it a sense of nostalgia. It was the sound of life quickened by the beginning of the season.

Change was in the air.

It was such a small thing, easily forgotten with the ongoing march of time. It was all the more transient for it, like the dream-memory that sometimes pervaded his subconsciousness.

And Ken finally wished for peace.

Sometimes, he dreamt of something else. About warm, gentle fingers touching his wounds and making them disappear. About a careful hold when his skinned, bleeding knees were too weak to hold himself up. About taller figures protecting his back before something dark and shadowy has any chance to strike him. About being surrounded by exhausted smiles that hid the simple joy of living another month. About a silent, but deathly existence that stood tall before them, raising the hairs on his neck and freezing his body with an unsettled cold in his gut.

But then again, the dream was far outweighed by the feeling of not being alone, a sense of unity and purpose that made the dream so hopeful. It always ended with a shimmering radiance, and the feel that his wrist itching strangely.

Ken often woke up and glanced down to find an illusion of a silk-like, inky thread looping around his wrist, painted on his skin. It disappeared the next time he blinked, so he tried to keep his tired eyes open until sleep reclaimed him. Ken smiled.

He was safe here.

Author's Note:

Just a small update. The word count is fewer than what I'm used to but I figured this is a good place to stop. I'm still getting used to write again, it's difficult to flow what I'm meant to picture in words. And I finally found the lost folder I told you in the last chapter. It was in my recycle bin XPP The good news is, I might be able to finish this one sooner. I already have an ending I want and... *spoiler* it's not a bummer, hell-on-earth ending ;)

Do leave me a nice review :))

Ah, one last note. If you're wondering what a STEM school is, it's a specialized school that focuses on science, technology, engineering and math. There's one in Tokyo, in Minato-ku. Heh. Just a small tidbit.

Later!