It was truly a day of despair in Heaven. The sunlight that used to bless the very many creatures, akin to the gaze of a mother, had dulled and dimmed down at the downfall of their benevolent ruler, a god. Whispers of an imbalance sneaked through, spreading far and wide, from the lips of a noble guard to the twisting tongue of an old witch at the corner of a forgotten village. A declaration was yet to be made, but they all knew, after all, the absence was far too grand and made it all the more depressing for it to not be acknowledged.
And so, a young god clothed in bright red, stood above a gathered crowd, his burning eyes were earnest and they were glazed bitter red, he cleared his throat; positioned atop the heavenly abode of a deceased god, his hair glowed in the dim sunlight and called on the attention of everyone below. As he reached out for his glasses and an envelope with a print of the heavenly sigil: swirls of acanthus’ and an intricate chrysanthemum, the crowd acknowledged the god by pausing their bickering and speculations.
They dragged their eyes upwards, scaling the elaborate renaissance marble columns, only stopping once they’ve found the god, comically little from the crowd’s view. However, it didn’t diminish his presence, not at all; whether it was the anticipation or just that he was a god: they looked up in reverence. And so they braced themselves for whatever their god would bestow upon them.
“Beings of Heaven, as The Overseer of Monetary Affairs, I, Io Vesuvius, am extremely saddened to announce that our beloved ruler, The Exalted One, Kouken Narukawa, The Utmost Supreme was found deceased in her abode under unknown circumstances.” His voice was clear, hollow and heavy. Columns of light broke through the dark clouds, as if the universe had aligned in his favor and decided to cast its gentle gaze on him. The crowd burst into gasps; shouts and voices of retaliation brewed.
Even so, he continued with his eyes closed, paying no regard to the commotion. “The Bureau will continue to function as before. And I humbly ask of you to tolerate me, and the rest of The Exalted Bureau, as your temporary leaders sanctified by Lord Hanako’s benevolence.” He placed the card back into the envelope and adjusted his glasses with the free hand before clearing his throat as the crowd kept growing louder.
“Where’s Hanako!?”
“Lies! You damn conspires!”
“With this,” His voice stern and louder than before, forcing the attention towards him once more, “I officially declare the end of The Utmost Supreme, Lord Kouken’s rule and legacy. May the Universe, the Creator and Life emancipate Heaven!” Io unfurrowed his brows soon after and rushed out the balcony, leaving the agitated crowd. He gazed at his hand; mortified at its trembling as he grabbed and clutched onto it.
“My Lord?” A fretting assistant rushed forward out of the shadows in concern. Io let go of his wrist in dismay, letting his hands fall to his sides. He scanned the empty corridor, apart from the fact that it seemed to go on endlessly on either side, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Not a soul in sight (aside from the anxious and familiar assistant), of course not, when everyone’s gathered and waiting for him a few floors below, why did he expect to find anything out here?
“You’re here. Good, good.” He exhaled and patted the nervous man’s back in relief. “I need you to coordinate with the other Bureau members’ respective offices and begin officiating the mourning period for The Exalted One. Right now. You are not allowed to cut any corners, none at all. There’s enough suspicion on us already, even without announcing the news of Lord Hanako’s-,” He paused, closing his eyes in deep thought as he held his temples while relaying the situation. The high ceilings echoed his voice in the silence as the raging crowd’s banter reached in faintly.
“That fucking Lann. Always, always choosing the worst of times to play his cards.” He cursed under his breath, promptly running his hands through his hair. “Do not give anyone any chance to point fingers at us, do you get that?” He wagged his finger in front of the assistant’s face, who frantically followed the god’s index with deep subservience in his eyes.
“My Lord, excuse my rudeness, I, I simply cannot guarantee that! The Bureau is far too eccentric for me to-,” He was interrupted by Vesuvius.
“Well, you do not have a choice and neither do I, and I do not want Heaven falling apart with my face plastered in the fore center. Do you understand?” He exhaled; a slight apologetic tone invaded his voice as he spoke.
“B-but, my lord-,”
“I need a three-letter, one syllable answer. No protests and-or complaints.” He furrowed his brows and turned his red gaze towards the poor man.
“Y-yes, sir..” The man answered, defeated. He nodded and walked off right after, most definitely to scream out into an isolated cubicle, or at least that is what Io assumed.
The god took to his shivering hand once more and mumbled to himself with a horrified visage before walking towards the congregation room, he was greeted with the gaze of many, many gods seated in disdain, as if he were the center of the large elliptical room. He noted the empty seats, namely, Cordellia, Chandasena and Hanako, he let out a sigh for what seemed like the millionth time of the day.
He found his seat at the other end of the room and stood there as he began addressing the rather intense gathering, “I too, believe that Lord Kouken’s death was no accident as do all of you. But…”
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
A momentary flash of his life played before his eyes and he felt… pain. Just a few moments ago he was strolling atop this roof, only to find himself enveloped by an arresting sense of aching. His body was on fire, even if it didn’t look like it, was his blood burning…?
No, his blood was being devoured with such momentous intensity, as though his veins were being boiled- he opened his mouth to let out a scream: to let go of it all, to chase after the fading flowers, the scent that was steadily leaving his memories, like pages being burnt in the library of his mind; he felt it all disintegrate as he fell to his knees with his eyes closed, the slight wrinkles deepening with his grimace, and he finally fell over, seemingly dead.
The next moment he opened his gold eyes, he was met with the city skyline, as before; except now there was a silhouette blocking a major part of it. “Where am I?” He muttered. His eyes widened as he kept thinking. “It’s all gone,” He covered his face with his palms as he went pale, still on the ground. “Everything… is gone.”
“Feeling fresh?” The silhouette asked, his un-focusing eyes found its way to the source of the voice, a woman clad in red, with a thick, long swaying grey braid behind her, and seemingly, one with no face, reminiscent of a mannequin.
“I don’t know.” He replied dryly. “I’m tired.”
He lifted himself off the ground, “Who am I?” he asked the woman. “I had a name before I woke up.”
“I don’t know either. But from what I could tell, you were a noble soul.” She replied, holding her chin between her index and thumb.
“I, I hated you..? Is that right?” He asked again, staring up at the night sky.
“As much as it pains me, yes. You’ve tried to kill me multiple times.”
He jolted up right, listening to the instincts yelling at him; he raised his fist to her face, only to be blocked by her index with tremendous force, the man quickly improvised and raised his other hand, this time he caught her neck in his tightened hold.
“It was you. What did you do?” He asked with a deep furrow etched between his brows. She chuckled in response with a few coughs breaking it up.
“I wa-,” She coughed and took in a sharp breath, “I was,” She coughed once more and began smacking his hefty forearm as her legs scattered around in the air.
“I know far too well that you do not breathe. Drop the act.” He exhaled, eliciting a laugh from her.
“Busted! I was bored!” She lifted her arms up signaling her defeat.
“Give me my memories back. Right now.” He let go of her, the woman dropped to the ground in a doll-like manner. The tired man wondered whether he would find doll stuffing inside her limbs.
She stood up and dusted her clothes, “God, you’re so boring. You meet a woman for the first time-,” she paused, “Well, first time for you, of course, and you won’t ask for her name, nothing! Just straight to business? Just like that? My name is Fumika. If you even care.”
“If I cared I would’ve remembered more than just despising you.”
“I want to change that!” She giggled, the dark metal trinkets on her dress jangled as she swayed.
“Give me my memories back.”
“Ugh. You sound like a broken record, giive me my memories baaack..!” She let out a gagging noise, showcasing her disapproval. Upon noticing that he wasn’t amused with any of it, she sighed.
“Alright, alright. I won’t give them back for free, obviously.” She sighed as she shook her head. “C’mon say it.” She whined.
“What do you want?” He asked.
“Finally! Yes, so, I want you to carry out my orders, the first one being as soon as possible. With every task done, I’ll give you a portion of your memories back. It’s a great deal! We both win!” Fumika tapped his forehead on her tiptoes as she spoke of his memories; yet still, all he could notice was the empty face displaying her duplicity.
He sighed. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Get it over with, then.”
“Your first task is… to kill Miyazaki Hikaru.” Fumika spoke with her hand outstretched and upon shaking her hand, he felt a fraction of his memory being restored, it was an odd feeling; he noted it to be similar to nostalgia, a rather intense rendition of it.
“Found anything useful?” She retracted her arm.
“A name. You can call me Fairness.” He replied in a flat tone.
“Alright, Fairness. Glad to make your acquaintance.” Fumika jeered. “Now, I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. It is your turn now.”
It's hard making friends as an adult. When I was in elementary school, I went table to table at the cafeteria asking every person there if they liked Mario and Luigi: Partners in Time for the Nintendo DS, and no one knew what the fuck I was talking about aside from one kid, and then we became friends for 7 years
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