Voice to cry suffering, and Will to rise in Afternoon's Night (Itsuki, Reiji)

When all council members were gathered in their room, and you were an outsider, it felt like a prosecution.

Maybe because in his case, it was one.

They discussed, they talked, they judged him.

Shu stood in the chair that faced the door— the center and front of the council. Of everyone, he was the only one silent.

It would be a cause of alarm for others, but not for him.

His nailless fingers didn't shake, nor did his hand show any sign of pain and discomfort, despite the sticky patches on his fingertips.

Anyone else would tremble, feel fear.

He felt nothing.

It was as if in this moment, he had no voice to cry out in suffering.

While he was conscious, his mind wasn’t there.

He wouldn’t yield to fear, for his heart was empty.

A corpse, being judged by metaphorical morticians.

He heard Yaya’s voice, Madoka’s.

But the rest blended into a meaningless cacophony.

The one to wield the verdict was the one who mattered, the third to them.

But anyone else… who were they?

Itsuki couldn’t read clearly.

His mind spun. Itsuki felt he was watched by more than the council member. As if too many things stared at him, too many eyes, all locked in him, as he spun in that room like an exhibition’s object.

Like demons were there, awaiting his very move.

The expression on Shu’s face moved ever so slightly.

“Kusanagi Itsuki, you assaulted and hurt a member of the student body. As determined by the school faculty, you will be suspended for a whole week. Think about what you have done.” His voice was heavy. So heavy it had made the other council members flinch.

Itsuki nodded his head. He was expecting a heavier punishment given what he had done and Shu’s nature, but if it was the school's decision… who was he to go against it?

Honestly, he deserved a heavier punishment, something far worse than he had gotten… but he stayed his voice. He would not argue against the school council, nor the faculty.

He nodded his head and bowed respectfully.

Ever since Momo took him to that ramen stand…

He had many things to ponder.

Reevaluate.

Realign his objectives.

His lips curled, as hair hid his eyes.

He was such a wreck.

His hand trembled, the sticky patches of old red blood on his fingertips still…

No, they were no longer fresh, but dried and old.

Shu had healed them.

He remembered.

“Understood,” Itsuki said weakly.

Shu closed his eyes. “You are free to go back to classes now, Itsuki-san.” Itsuki turned on his heel and walked out.

Shoulders slacking, his head held low.

He was a mess.


He rested his head against his brand new sofa, in the apartment given to him by Reiji.

He exhaled heavily. Things were not boding well for him in the next few days. Things sucked. He used his arm to cover his face.

Visions of nightmares shone in his head. Truly vile things, his mind daydreamed…

Him hurting people, innocents. Him nearly killing Nejima.

Giving in to his darkest and most violent urges for no reason. Him abandoning his humanity to go to the Idea World.

Dark dreams, borderline nightmares.

What has he done?

What will he do if he doesn’t manage to hold himself? What can he even do now?

This darkness festered inside of him; it stabbed at his soul. His eyes trembled as pain blossomed in his chest. A too fresh, too humane pain he thought he had lost.

Pain of losing something. The fear of being alone, the yearning, the want for something more than the coldness that has nestled inside of him.

His eyes strained, but no tears came out.

Itsuki feared becoming what he dreamt of, those dark desires made manifest. He would be no better than the person he hated the most.

Yet, it was hard. It was hard to give up. He didn’t want to give up; he wanted to rationalize his pain. Ensure that everything he went through was for a purpose.

That it was not her or his fault, but each day made it hard to believe those words, those excuses. If it wasn’t for her… her actions, he wouldn’t be there in the first place.

Each day made him feel like… his pain has been for nothing, without purpose. And it made his heart know that her made the wrong choice in the end.

He raised his arm to stare at the small glimpse of the outside world, the setting sun on his face once again. It shone through the windows.

He recalled the days he was in the Student Council.

Koharu led the front, bright, fast, unrelenting as ever.

Takeru was right beside her, his form steady, his heels dug deep in the ground.

Itsuki himself was on the back.

Alongside Madoka and William, too.

It was quite strange, now and then, a Madoka was in the council, in both times.

There was another big buy to take Takeru’s place, as well as those who supported the fighters in the foreground, just as he did.

You can’t stop the world from grinding on; the gears that move reality from moving. The sun will set.

The moon will rise.

Darkness falls.

The dawn rises from the ashes of old nights.

The cycle eternally repeats itself.

Itsuki saw the darkness of his mind materialize.

Space transformed and twisted into mockeries of what they were, a darkness so powerful it voided all colors, all faded to black, and a lighter shade of black.

The locale was turned to her room in her family’s apartment.

This place, despite being clad in shadows, twisted, a manifestation of his nightmares, felt real. Realer than any of his moments had been in these last three years, only as real as the peak of his crumbling lucidity.

He saw negativity seep out of the darkness, and it began coalescing into a so familiar form. Chains around her body, her neck, her skin, and hair as pale as death, and eyes filled with raw evil, so visceral it made even his weakened sense of self and survival look up with interest, to protect its own life.

This form, even changed, even corrupted, even brutalized, was her form. The form of someone he loved with all of his being.

The form of Koharu.

Her form, with blue skin, the attrition marks of ropes in her neck. “You should cast out your light. Your suffering will be in everything; redemption is a lie you choose to believe.” She stepped forward.

She stepped forward.

The doom immensely darkened, but Itsuki didn’t move.

There would be no retreating now.

“Cease your bluffing.” She said with a smile, filled with venom.

A part of Itsuki wondered if it was a trick of his mind, or reality taking a twisted turn.

After all the insanity he had seen, it was hard to discern the truth behind the matter. What was reality, and what was a lie?

He got up, just as the darkness encroached on him.

He walked forward. His heart beat raced. His vision got topsy-turvy, but her form was clear as day.

Was she a vengeful spirit, hallucination, or something else entirely?

Itsuki would put it to the test now.

Just as she walked, he walked faster, nearly leaping on her. His left hand cupped her face, as her left hand pierced him in the chest.

Her fingers dug in his flesh; they went deep, but not deep enough to be fatal.

Blood dripped.

It was real.

But his hand cupped her face.

He felt he warmth he longed for, for so long.

His eyes softened for a moment, as her eyes widened in shock, and he moved to his hand. In stark surprise. His eyes smiled, but his lips trembled, as if he was crying.

“It took you a long while to show yourself, didn’t you?” Itsuki whispered, for a moment, her face became the one he used to see.

All the love they shared.

Memories of their childhood.

The micro reactions she had. The trembling of her face, as if wanting to cringe and push him away at his weirdly touchy and emotional decision.

It was her.

He knew it.

She retreated her hand from his chest and grabbed his hand, bloodying it, trying to put it away from her face.

But this time, Itsuki would not go back or allow himself to be so easily dismissed by her; he resisted her pull. He resisted the attempt to distance themselves.

“You should let me go. You cannot continue as you are.” She spoke, her voice cold, but weirdly calming and kind, as darkness retreated. The glimmer of her previous life, of how she was alive, returned to half of her face.

“You lost me, your world, but the world around you, of the people you live with, continues to spin, every single day.” Itsuki chewed on his lip, his expression pained, as her hand started to pull him away from her.

Their eyes locked. Blue and red, against light blue. Her face, too, became pained. “I would love to share my life with you, once upon a time, but we have both gone our separate ways.”

Itsuki was losing strength, as darkness surrounded his view again, his head threatening to spin, and his consciousness to leave his body. “You cannot live in the past for much longer. For you—” She leaned in his ear and whispered words he could no longer hear, truths he refused to clear out in his mind, always keeping them as a blur.

She walked forward, she wrestled Itsuki down on the couch, forcibly sitting him there, as her bloodied hand went to his cheek, cupping it.

Itsuki felt his heart beat colder, not because he was before a vengeful ghost, or what he assumed she was, but rather because he couldn’t bear himself to lose yet another moment with her, alive or not.

As for her, her heart beat with supernatural warmth, as she saw that despite all this time, despite all things he went through, he still cherished her, loved her, rather than abandoning and cursing her name. But that warmth was not to last, as her blue eye became red.

Darkness overwhelmed Itsuki.

“For better, or for worse. Some people care for you now; they want you. Either embrace what you have become or forge a new path for yourself.” She dropped his face, as Itsuki felt his skin grow colder and colder until he was like a corpse.

He didn’t want this to end, even if it could cost him his life. His hand extended to her as she grew distant, far beyond his grasp. Far beyond anything he could muster.

“Embrace the dark, or bask in the light. It is up to you, now.”

His chest ached and stung.

He knew her words. He knew them too well.

He also knew who he was; he just chose to ignore it to chase after a ghost because he wanted to feel good about himself, and he wanted retribution and a payout for his suffering.

But that couldn’t continue, not when he already knew who he had to check,a nd who he had to kill if he wanted his retribution so much.

He had to finish it before his world could continue to spin.

Was the lie he told himself the most.

He hated being confronted by it.

He hated it so much he wanted to kill himself every time he had to look at his face, and be forced to acknowledge he was stalling so he hadn’t to accept Koharu had died years ago, and not just a week or two ago.

His fists clenched as his head drifted into unconsciousness. The last thing he saw of her was a smile.


Itsuki opened his eyes.

It was already twilight; the day had passed.

The dark came there.

He checked his chest for wounds, he drove his left hand under his shirt, but there was nothing, not a single spec of blood on it, nor a scar, nor any other sign of damage.

Was it a dream? It couldn’t be. Itsuki remembered things so clearly!

He checked his hand, but there was nothing on it as well, no signs of the cold blood she had spilled.

His heart grew increasingly despair, where else had her bloodied hand touched? What was the other proof she was here?

His eyes widened in anxiety. Itsuki tried to think, remember, he touched his face, and then felt something there. He retreated it, and on his right cheek, there was blood.

Stagnant, old blood turned black.

For a single moment, the heat of life burned in him again. It was real.

It was no dream.

For a single moment, he had met her, in whatever liminal nightmarish realm he was transported to in his apartment, but it was real.

Real.

And so real were the words she chose.

He had to make a choice, now or never.

The world would keep on spinning, and he couldn’t keep his world in stasis any longer; it was threatening to spin against his control.

Something had to be done.

Some people cared about him for their own reasons.

Momo and Yaya wanted the best out of him.

But.. Reiji and Sumi, they could give him so much, they could hone who he has become into something even sharper. Take his crude skills and experience, and refine them, shape them into something new, the final product.

Give up to the fighting spirit that has taken hold of his life, or… try to forge a new path. Those two paths were so different that it was impossible to tell which would be harder and which would force him the most.

Itsuki raised his hand.

He saw the dichotomy of light and shadows. Sun and Moon. Twilight. He heard a knock on the door.

The door was unlocked. He had not even bothered locking it up.

A death wish, most likely.

The knocks stopped after some time. “Itsuki… are you here?”

It was a weak, small voice. Yaya’s voice.

Itsuki sighed.

He was not in the mood for it.

But words echoed in his head. “You always knew who he was. You are just stalling.” It was right.

He was stalling. “Enter,” Itsuki answered as he watched the twilight reflect in his eyes.

Yaya entered shyly and made her way towards him.

“Itsuki! Do you want to talk?” She asked even more shyly, holding her hurt wrist.

Itsuki raised his face and moved to look at her. Sincerely, he wanted to wallow in his misery, rot and die, but this wouldn’t do it now, would it?

“Yes.” He sighed. Yaya quickly made her way to the sofa and sat beside him.

“So, Itsuki-kun… I know you are not feeling well. Want to talk about things?”

Itsuki gave her a side eye. And wondered about his life up to this point. “Sure. Hell. To start things off with a bang, I don’t even know why I am doing what I am doing anymore.” Itsuki placed his left hand over his face.

A constrained laugh left his mouth, it struggled not to cry despair. “This vengeance, all of it is meaningless. I didn’t know it from the start, I was too consumed by hate, but it all fell apart once I learnt that person's identity.”

Itsuki dropped his hand and looked down. The corners of his mouth twitched, his eyes twitched, his whole face trembled, the smile he had waved, but never faltered. His soul wanted to make an expression, but his body was stuck in another.

The same facelessness, the same fake smile, the numbness that rooted in his chest and turned into his new heart, a new emotion, a new hurt, a new tree born out of the old one’s stump, and just as agonizing.

“I am just lashing out, Yaya. It is all meaningless. I just don’t want to forget her heart, how she felt…” Itsuki took a deep breath and looked straight at the windows again.

“I don’t know the full truth yet, Itsuki-san… but shouldn't you go after him, then? Go after him? If you complete your vengeance, you would feel a sense of peace?” Itsuki's eyes snapped open.

He remembered his address; his new address hadn’t been updated in the school records, nor had he told anyone yet. That thing, whatever it was, it was not Yaya, if her words were not enough evidence to convince him of it.

He grabbed “Yaya” by the head and slammed her on the floor.

Her body disintegrated into dark smoke. Was it a hallucination, or a temptation from beyond the veil?

Whatever it was, contrary to Koharu, it was not welcome.

He was slipping.

He needed to breathe a little


He exited out the apartment building, and looked up a the night sky. His sanity was slipping. He was slipping.

Maybe it was time to end it all. Itsuki closed his eyes.

Maybe the world wouldn’t miss him after all was said and done.

It would be healthier without him in it, without another blemish and rotting abscess in it.

Yet, from the shadows, someone appeared. He positioned himself right beside Itsuki. “Something in your mind?” He questioned, his voice without a single hint of emotion, or anything that would denounce weakness or his mood.

Reiji was beside him, of all people.

Itsuki scoffed, swallowing a laugh. Of all people that could be beside him, it was bloody Reiji. Well, it didn’t matter. “Thinking of ending it all. Many things in my mind.”

Reiji gave him a side eye, unsatisfied with the amount of information given to him. ITsuki, this time, laughed at the inquisitive nature of his employer. “Too many things, things I doubt you can understand, hell, I doubt anyone can understand that.” Anyone normal, Itsuki meant.

“I am just thinking of ending it all,” Itsuki spoke without a single hint of hesitation or second thought. He meant it with his words, enough to make even Reiji’s eyes tremble with a microemotion at the sight of how boldly Itsuki proclaimed his suicidal intent.

“I would hate to lose an asset. Can you at least tell me why you are thinking of killing yourself? After giving you an apartment, I would hate to have a net negative investment.”

Itsuki appraised Reiji. Why would he care about losing an asset? One he just had? Itsuki was sure an apartment was chump change for someone like Reiji. “Oh my, I would almost think you care about me dying.”

Itsuki “joked”, seeking to draw a reaction out of Reiji, but sadly, nothing came out of his deadpan face.

What a drag.

“What would you consider your world?” This question, however, drew a reaction out of Reiji, a confused one.

It was a start for Itsuki.

“Your world? Your reason to be? To remain alive? To fight?” Itsuki gave a small pause, awaiting for Reiji’s answer, but he didn’t get one, so he continued his speech. “Mine… mine was a girl I loved, I loved her so much, more than I loved myself, more than I loved my life.”

Reiji saw his “asset” extend a hand towards the cosmos, towards the stars and dark sky, as if he tried to reach, to hold, something completely unattainable. “She died, I won’t give you the details, but know what she was my everything, I could never tell her that, I didn’t realize that at the time.”

A hollowed laugh echoed through the empty street. “Ah, I didn’t realize it at the time, and I have been lashing out since, refusing to see reason, refusing to abandon her warmth. It is pathetic, so pathetic.” Itsuki shook his head.

“I lost my world. I don’t know how to proceed, I don’t know if I can, so what do I have to lose? I can just end it all; there is no reason to extend a play that far outstretched its ending.”

The audience called for a curtain call, and Itsuki was itching to provide it.

“I don’t care. You are my asset, I have made an investment, I won’t allow an investment of mine to be cut short, so be ready, I will use you until there is nothing left, until you have lost your usefulness.” Reiji began to walk towards the shadows, paying no mind to Itsuki.

“If you want a world so badly, if you want a reason to be so much, I can provide it. Women, romance, money, anything, I will provide it. Don’t forget, you are an equipment, a tool of the Kurobane Group.” Reiji stopped on his step and looked back at Itsuki.

A flame within Itsuki burned hotter as Reiji spoke. Spite, hatred, outrage at how Reiji could so easily talk about “replacing a world” like that, but another, bigger part of Itsuki wondered, why would he care?

She has already been dead for so damn long. Or.. she just died? He didn’t know; time always felt messy in his head.

Living for nothing, dying for nothing, ending the cycle, reliving the loop. Break the cycle.

Embrace the pain.

Break the cycle.

Put an end to himself.

What is the cycle?

Purpose. A calling.

He lacked it, and dying and serving were both callings for him

“You are not allowed to die so easily, not before repaying what you owe us. Remember this. If you need a replacement, we will be happy to provide it.” So you are more indebted to us, went unsaid, “Or provide the situation where you can find it. Now, rest. I will have a mission ready for you tomorrow. Your days suspended will be used to their fullest extent.”

Purpose.

A purpose.

Momo could give it to him.

He could find another one, finding his reason in others.

But this was not him, it was not the person Itsuki was, in the end, he was selfish.

His world was lost, so he lashed out in selfish wrath and rage.

He held a grudge against those who were better than him, and never connected with anyone else, ever, after that. Even Momo… was his leader, a friend… someone he could rely on, but this was not as deep as he would’ve wanted.

It was not the type of friendship that made him move overdrive, his body go against its limits for her sake, and the sake of her friendship.

It was not like old time’s sake, but he cared about her more than anyone else right now.

Serving the Kurobane, allowing them to give him a purpose, at least in the short term, was good, as they wouldn’t target the Fujiwara-Senki; they would not target Momo.

He was tired, tired.

He tried to let others dictate his purpose to him, give him a new reason to live, give him… something to forget the pain, but it never worked.

Why would it work now? At all times? Of the Kurobane Group of all places?

Itsuki drew in a sharp breath.

Momo came in, defeated him, and recruited him in the Fujiwara-Senki. He still did the things his way, in a way that Momo acted more like an enabler than someone who could keep him under control; maybe that was not the healing, the company he needed, despite his appreciation for his captain.

It was not something in his control, it was not something his selfish heart desired, it just accepted it, because it was easier than to think for himself, to better himself.

His body learned the depths of combat, not because he trained, but because he endured, shaping himself after each wound; it was easier than intentionally getting better. Learn through osmosis, without putting much effort.

He never put any effort into changing, did he? Never gave himself enough effort, enough motivation, to strive and improve after her death.

Itsuki closed his eyes.

This time, he wanted to change. Give it a shot, not because anyone told him to, not because it was offered to him, but because he wanted more, more than this stagnant vengeance, more than mindless violence without aim or goal in specific, aside from hunting vague ghosts of the past.

No. A new thirst bleeds his tongue.

Kurobane Group would put him through hell; he would serve the shadiest of companies, with their heir at the helm of the leadership, but… now he had motivation. To break free, to figure himself out.

He will kill his suffering, or die dying, it will consume him, or he will rise above it. No more excuses, buts, ot envy of others' worlds.

Their liveliness, or their way of life, connections, and happiness. No more jealousy.

If he had to make his way through to reach Heaven, so he would.

Reiji stopped in his tracks. He could feel something had changed. For a moment, he changed to his Idolon in the idea world. He stared as a small bundle of flames appeared before him, embraced by blue abyssal fire, but soon enough, that bundle slowly but steadily started to burn the abyss away.

Purpose was given to Darkness.

A will to unify despair and go above the abyssal depths that had taken hold of someone’s soul.

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Pub: 10 Oct 2025 17:14 UTC

Views: 24