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Chapter 1 – Bound Together (cont.)
Yatogami Kuroh and Miwa Ichigen first crossed paths some four years prior to all of this. At the time, Kuroh didn’t have a family to call his own.
He hadn’t always been alone; until the age of five, he’d had a mother and father as well as an elder brother and sister and a grandfather, and they’d all lived a bright, merry life together under the same roof–but that all changed one fall day when they went on a family outing for leaf-viewing.
Under autumn’s sunny sky that day, they’d all piled into their family van and headed for the mountains of a neighboring prefecture in the Kantou region, planning on an overnight vacation complete with plenty of scenery appreciation.
But tragedy struck on the way to the hotel they’d made reservations with.
Kuroh and his siblings merrily sang along to the theme song of a popular anime while the adults laughed at their antics, as normal a happy family scene as there ever was–until a truck hurtled into their car from the oncoming lane, instantly obliterating the joy they’d all been steeped in, leaving nothing behind. Their car swerved sharply, cras.h.i.+ng through a guardrail before toppling over a cliffside.
The oncoming driver of the truck, as it turned out, had experienced a heart attack and had been long dead before the accident had even occurred. The only survivor of the wreck…was Kuroh, a boy not even in elementary school yet.
His mother, seated next to him, had grabbed him close and acted as a cus.h.i.+on s.h.i.+elding him from the brunt of the impact, as he learned much later.
Reality, for Kuroh, was enduring unbearable pain and tubes running through his body and wires pulling at him before eventually being brought back to the land of the living. He’d actually died on the table once and been confined to ICU for over two weeks, his ultimate fate unable to be predicted. At length, his attending physician deemed him finally past the critical stage of recovery, and he was moved to the general wing of the hospital, where a long, painful path of rehabilitation awaited him.
Kuroh spent 6 months in that hospital. It was all he could do to cope with the changes that had occurred in the world around him, and it only really hit him that he’d lost his entire family around the time of his discharge from the hospital. He’d grown friendly with another boy sharing his room, and watching the boy’s family come visit him, he’d felt little more than fondness for the scene–until he’d heard them discussing where they would all go after he was discharged, leaving Kuroh to finally realize, ‘Oh…I’ll never be able to see my mother or father again, huh…’
He felt overcome with pain and sadness that threatened to tear him apart, and he’d slipped off to a small corner of the rooftop, where he bit back his voice and sobbed silently to himself. He hadn’t wanted to ruin their happiness with his tears–even as a child, he had at least that much pride.
But a cruel and harsh life awaited Kuroh after his discharge–one that would make him long for life within the walls of the hospital. It started when the home of the relatives he’d been sent to live with was destroyed in a fire, taking the lives of his aunt and uncle. The pair, his uncle the younger brother of his father, had been exceedingly well-dispositioned, taking pity on Kuroh in his state and taking care to clearly name themselves as his new guardians when he was discharged. It was while living with the couple that he’d started attending elementary school near their home.
While the wounds to his heart had not yet healed entirely, Kuroh nevertheless remained a strong-willed child, and with grat.i.tude toward his aunt and uncle as well as for the sake of his lost family, he swore to himself he would make the best of his new life.
But then, not one year later, it happened.
The fire had started after flames broke out in the neighboring house. The middle of the night as it had been, Kuroh and his aunt and uncle had all been sound asleep, not even noticing the flames. The smoke silently infiltrated the home, quickly fill ing all available s.p.a.ces, and all three succ.u.mbed to carbon monoxide poisoning. Kuroh’s room had been facing the street, luckily enough, and the firefighters had managed to reach him just in time–but his aunt and uncle, whose room had been right next to the house where the fire had initially broken out, hadn’t made it. The police had tried to console him afterward, a.s.suring him that the pair had died peacefully in their sleep, without pain or fear.
Not with the truck collision, and not now with the fire…none of what had happened had been anything Kuroh should have been faulted for. He was nothing more than a victim in all of this. But–now he’d been party to two incidents in which he’d lost all the family he’d ever known, with he alone surviving. This led even those who weren’t typically superst.i.tious as well as those who were usually fairly level-headed individuals to find it increasingly difficult to rule out some causal relations.h.i.+p between Kuroh and the deaths that seemed to follow him like an infection.
Not that anyone had the gall to say as such aloud; that was discrimination. An illogical conclusion to jump to. Everyone understood that on the logical surface–but when the time came for his remaining relatives to discuss what to do with Kuroh now, not a single one of them stepped forward to offer to take him in. One spoke up, saying, “I mean, I don’t really mind myself–but the wife, see… She just doesn’t feel comfortable with it,” his expression abashed.
Another offered this rationalization: “Times are tough at my place right now, and we’re cramped enough as is… And personally, I’m a little worried that if anything were to happen, I’d be tempted to push the blame for it onto Kuroh-chan.”
These were all rather level-headed people. It wasn’t a matter of economics or family affairs so much…as the possibility that they might unconsciously blame Kuroh for any unhappiness that befell them.
Angel of Death
No one wanted to invite into their homes something that might disturb their peaceful lives, and ultimately, Kuroh found himself taken in by a distant male relative. It was obvious to all that he was only after the inheritance Kuroh had been left by his parents, but they decided as a whole to feign ignorance.
The man had been married at one point, but his wife had already left him, leaving him alone in an old six-mat apartment. He was an alcoholic and a gambler–and he’d built up quite a large debt.
From the outset, the probability that Kuroh would be able to lead a proper life under this man’s roof was next to nihil. Even a child as young as Kuroh understood this, but nevertheless, he moved in with the man, not uttering a single word of dissatisfaction.
Initially, the man had merely teased him mean-spiritedly, but by their third day together, he’d begun to resort to acts of violence. The man obviously had no understanding of the fact that he was responsible for caring for this young boy, and Kuroh went without meals of any substance or concern whatsoever paid him, rarely making it to school even. He was doing his level best just to survive, and biting back tears, he endured the hand he’d been dealt.
The man used up Kuroh’s inheritance in the blink of an eye. He threw punches at Kuroh, complaining that he’d lost at pac.h.i.n.ko, or kick him, remarking that he didn’t like his expression. He even on occasion cruelly snapped, “Drop dead, you Angel of Death.”
If Kuroh hadn’t been born with as strong a will as he had, he might have long since done just as the man proposed. But then one day–that way of life came to an abrupt end when the man just never came home one evening. Kuroh wasn’t sure why–perhaps he’d met with some unfortunate accident, or gotten involved in some incident or another. The most likely explanation, though, was that he’d just abandoned his responsibilities and life with Kuroh. He’d started up a relations.h.i.+p with a prost.i.tute recently and had probably made himself at home in her place.
Kuroh waited for three days, and then four–and then a week before ultimately concluding that he’d been abandoned. By that point, he was suffering from severe malnutrition and couldn’t stop coughing. He’d worried that it might be bronchitis, or worse–pneumonia, but he lacked the funds to even buy something warm to drink from the nearby convenience store, let alone seek aid from a hospital.
Gathering up all the clothing he owned, he set out walking in a direction far removed from civilization. The only thought occupying his mind now, was: I mustn’t inconvenience others any more. That was all.
Snow began to fall, but he continued to force himself forward, eventually reaching the base of a mountain. The city lights that had seemed to stretch on forever all blinked out here.
The area around him was a world of silver, and bathed in the faint light of a mercury lamp, Kuroh staggered on his feet before collapsing.
‘It’s beautiful…’ Using the last of his strength, he pushed himself up and raised his head to the sky. ‘So very…very beautiful…’
And then…a soft voice called out to him: “So…I suppose you’re the ‘child of the future’ I foresaw.” By that point, Kuroh had lost the ability to differentiate between reality and hallucinations. A man approached him, carrying a bright red j.a.panese-style umbrella. His expression seemed somewhat angry…and at the same time, a bit saddened. “…You poor thing.” He gently reached out to lift Kuroh up, speaking as if he knew everything that Kuroh had been through.
B-W 04
“You don’t need to worry any more. You’ll live with me from now on. You’ll never need to worry about going hungry or feeling the chill of cold again.”
Kuroh, through a dim haze, attempted to struggle, desperate to explain: you’ll only find unhappiness with me; I’m an Angel of Death–so please…don’t touch me.
But the man only replied, “It’s quite all right. That’s nothing but a lie, after all.” Kuroh was at a loss for words–no adult had ever said that kind of thing to him before. “Quite the contrary–” the man with the umbrella added with a bright smile, “I intend on striking down any and all misfortune and bad luck that may befall you.”
After all–I’m a King.
The man, Miwa Ichigen, calmly proclaimed as such.
Kuroh would learn much later that the Seventh King Miwa Ichigen had already installed Yatogami Kuroh as his clansman at that point. Ichigen’s power as a King was the ability to see the future, and he’d foreseen Kuroh’s appearance already–but more than that, he’d had little choice but to use his supernatural abilities as a King to make Kuroh his clansman in order to save Kuroh, exhausted and on death’s doorstep. He’d been in such pain that his mental state had been actually rather clear, but he’d been suffering from severe malnutrition and showing symptoms of pneumonia, with the flame of his life having all but died out.
Ichigen put it lightly, “It happens all the time in superhero shows, right? In order to save your life, I had to fuse with you.”
That’s how he’d explained it, but it hadn’t really made much sense to Kuroh. All that mattered was that Ichigen was, through and through, the man who had saved Kuroh’s life, and so long as Kuroh had that to cling to, nothing else mattered, leaving him fulfilled in body and soul.
He wasn’t entirely sure how Ichigen had gone about it, even now four years later, but before he realized it, he’d been formally adopted by Ichigen and started attending school.
“Well, let’s just say I called in a few favors,” Ichigen had explained easily. Kuroh could only imagine that he’d used his personal connections as a King.
Truthfully, even now, Ichigen’s “King” aspect remained a mystery to Kuroh. He had a fairly good grasp on Ichigen’s disposition and how he lived in this village, but as for the other mask Ichigen wore–that of a King with supernatural powers–he’d hardly been told anything.
And there was one reason for that…
To be continued…
Yatogami Kuroh and Miwa Ichigen first crossed paths some four years prior to all of this. At the time, Kuroh didn’t have a family to call his own.
He hadn’t always been alone; until the age of five, he’d had a mother and father as well as an elder brother and sister and a grandfather, and they’d all lived a bright, merry life together under the same roof–but that all changed one fall day when they went on a family outing for leaf-viewing.
Under autumn’s sunny sky that day, they’d all piled into their family van and headed for the mountains of a neighboring prefecture in the Kantou region, planning on an overnight vacation complete with plenty of scenery appreciation.
But tragedy struck on the way to the hotel they’d made reservations with.
Kuroh and his siblings merrily sang along to the theme song of a popular anime while the adults laughed at their antics, as normal a happy family scene as there ever was–until a truck hurtled into their car from the oncoming lane, instantly obliterating the joy they’d all been steeped in, leaving nothing behind. Their car swerved sharply, cras.h.i.+ng through a guardrail before toppling over a cliffside.
The oncoming driver of the truck, as it turned out, had experienced a heart attack and had been long dead before the accident had even occurred. The only survivor of the wreck…was Kuroh, a boy not even in elementary school yet.
His mother, seated next to him, had grabbed him close and acted as a cus.h.i.+on s.h.i.+elding him from the brunt of the impact, as he learned much later.
Reality, for Kuroh, was enduring unbearable pain and tubes running through his body and wires pulling at him before eventually being brought back to the land of the living. He’d actually died on the table once and been confined to ICU for over two weeks, his ultimate fate unable to be predicted. At length, his attending physician deemed him finally past the critical stage of recovery, and he was moved to the general wing of the hospital, where a long, painful path of rehabilitation awaited him.
Kuroh spent 6 months in that hospital. It was all he could do to cope with the changes that had occurred in the world around him, and it only really hit him that he’d lost his entire family around the time of his discharge from the hospital. He’d grown friendly with another boy sharing his room, and watching the boy’s family come visit him, he’d felt little more than fondness for the scene–until he’d heard them discussing where they would all go after he was discharged, leaving Kuroh to finally realize, ‘Oh…I’ll never be able to see my mother or father again, huh…’
He felt overcome with pain and sadness that threatened to tear him apart, and he’d slipped off to a small corner of the rooftop, where he bit back his voice and sobbed silently to himself. He hadn’t wanted to ruin their happiness with his tears–even as a child, he had at least that much pride.
But a cruel and harsh life awaited Kuroh after his discharge–one that would make him long for life within the walls of the hospital. It started when the home of the relatives he’d been sent to live with was destroyed in a fire, taking the lives of his aunt and uncle. The pair, his uncle the younger brother of his father, had been exceedingly well-dispositioned, taking pity on Kuroh in his state and taking care to clearly name themselves as his new guardians when he was discharged. It was while living with the couple that he’d started attending elementary school near their home.
While the wounds to his heart had not yet healed entirely, Kuroh nevertheless remained a strong-willed child, and with grat.i.tude toward his aunt and uncle as well as for the sake of his lost family, he swore to himself he would make the best of his new life.
But then, not one year later, it happened.
The fire had started after flames broke out in the neighboring house. The middle of the night as it had been, Kuroh and his aunt and uncle had all been sound asleep, not even noticing the flames. The smoke silently infiltrated the home, quickly fill ing all available s.p.a.ces, and all three succ.u.mbed to carbon monoxide poisoning. Kuroh’s room had been facing the street, luckily enough, and the firefighters had managed to reach him just in time–but his aunt and uncle, whose room had been right next to the house where the fire had initially broken out, hadn’t made it. The police had tried to console him afterward, a.s.suring him that the pair had died peacefully in their sleep, without pain or fear.
Not with the truck collision, and not now with the fire…none of what had happened had been anything Kuroh should have been faulted for. He was nothing more than a victim in all of this. But–now he’d been party to two incidents in which he’d lost all the family he’d ever known, with he alone surviving. This led even those who weren’t typically superst.i.tious as well as those who were usually fairly level-headed individuals to find it increasingly difficult to rule out some causal relations.h.i.+p between Kuroh and the deaths that seemed to follow him like an infection.
Not that anyone had the gall to say as such aloud; that was discrimination. An illogical conclusion to jump to. Everyone understood that on the logical surface–but when the time came for his remaining relatives to discuss what to do with Kuroh now, not a single one of them stepped forward to offer to take him in. One spoke up, saying, “I mean, I don’t really mind myself–but the wife, see… She just doesn’t feel comfortable with it,” his expression abashed.
Another offered this rationalization: “Times are tough at my place right now, and we’re cramped enough as is… And personally, I’m a little worried that if anything were to happen, I’d be tempted to push the blame for it onto Kuroh-chan.”
These were all rather level-headed people. It wasn’t a matter of economics or family affairs so much…as the possibility that they might unconsciously blame Kuroh for any unhappiness that befell them.
Angel of Death
No one wanted to invite into their homes something that might disturb their peaceful lives, and ultimately, Kuroh found himself taken in by a distant male relative. It was obvious to all that he was only after the inheritance Kuroh had been left by his parents, but they decided as a whole to feign ignorance.
The man had been married at one point, but his wife had already left him, leaving him alone in an old six-mat apartment. He was an alcoholic and a gambler–and he’d built up quite a large debt.
From the outset, the probability that Kuroh would be able to lead a proper life under this man’s roof was next to nihil. Even a child as young as Kuroh understood this, but nevertheless, he moved in with the man, not uttering a single word of dissatisfaction.
Initially, the man had merely teased him mean-spiritedly, but by their third day together, he’d begun to resort to acts of violence. The man obviously had no understanding of the fact that he was responsible for caring for this young boy, and Kuroh went without meals of any substance or concern whatsoever paid him, rarely making it to school even. He was doing his level best just to survive, and biting back tears, he endured the hand he’d been dealt.
The man used up Kuroh’s inheritance in the blink of an eye. He threw punches at Kuroh, complaining that he’d lost at pac.h.i.n.ko, or kick him, remarking that he didn’t like his expression. He even on occasion cruelly snapped, “Drop dead, you Angel of Death.”
If Kuroh hadn’t been born with as strong a will as he had, he might have long since done just as the man proposed. But then one day–that way of life came to an abrupt end when the man just never came home one evening. Kuroh wasn’t sure why–perhaps he’d met with some unfortunate accident, or gotten involved in some incident or another. The most likely explanation, though, was that he’d just abandoned his responsibilities and life with Kuroh. He’d started up a relations.h.i.+p with a prost.i.tute recently and had probably made himself at home in her place.
Kuroh waited for three days, and then four–and then a week before ultimately concluding that he’d been abandoned. By that point, he was suffering from severe malnutrition and couldn’t stop coughing. He’d worried that it might be bronchitis, or worse–pneumonia, but he lacked the funds to even buy something warm to drink from the nearby convenience store, let alone seek aid from a hospital.
Gathering up all the clothing he owned, he set out walking in a direction far removed from civilization. The only thought occupying his mind now, was: I mustn’t inconvenience others any more. That was all.
Snow began to fall, but he continued to force himself forward, eventually reaching the base of a mountain. The city lights that had seemed to stretch on forever all blinked out here.
The area around him was a world of silver, and bathed in the faint light of a mercury lamp, Kuroh staggered on his feet before collapsing.
‘It’s beautiful…’ Using the last of his strength, he pushed himself up and raised his head to the sky. ‘So very…very beautiful…’
And then…a soft voice called out to him: “So…I suppose you’re the ‘child of the future’ I foresaw.” By that point, Kuroh had lost the ability to differentiate between reality and hallucinations. A man approached him, carrying a bright red j.a.panese-style umbrella. His expression seemed somewhat angry…and at the same time, a bit saddened. “…You poor thing.” He gently reached out to lift Kuroh up, speaking as if he knew everything that Kuroh had been through.
B-W 04
“You don’t need to worry any more. You’ll live with me from now on. You’ll never need to worry about going hungry or feeling the chill of cold again.”
Kuroh, through a dim haze, attempted to struggle, desperate to explain: you’ll only find unhappiness with me; I’m an Angel of Death–so please…don’t touch me.
But the man only replied, “It’s quite all right. That’s nothing but a lie, after all.” Kuroh was at a loss for words–no adult had ever said that kind of thing to him before. “Quite the contrary–” the man with the umbrella added with a bright smile, “I intend on striking down any and all misfortune and bad luck that may befall you.”
After all–I’m a King.
The man, Miwa Ichigen, calmly proclaimed as such.
Kuroh would learn much later that the Seventh King Miwa Ichigen had already installed Yatogami Kuroh as his clansman at that point. Ichigen’s power as a King was the ability to see the future, and he’d foreseen Kuroh’s appearance already–but more than that, he’d had little choice but to use his supernatural abilities as a King to make Kuroh his clansman in order to save Kuroh, exhausted and on death’s doorstep. He’d been in such pain that his mental state had been actually rather clear, but he’d been suffering from severe malnutrition and showing symptoms of pneumonia, with the flame of his life having all but died out.
Ichigen put it lightly, “It happens all the time in superhero shows, right? In order to save your life, I had to fuse with you.”
That’s how he’d explained it, but it hadn’t really made much sense to Kuroh. All that mattered was that Ichigen was, through and through, the man who had saved Kuroh’s life, and so long as Kuroh had that to cling to, nothing else mattered, leaving him fulfilled in body and soul.
He wasn’t entirely sure how Ichigen had gone about it, even now four years later, but before he realized it, he’d been formally adopted by Ichigen and started attending school.
“Well, let’s just say I called in a few favors,” Ichigen had explained easily. Kuroh could only imagine that he’d used his personal connections as a King.
Truthfully, even now, Ichigen’s “King” aspect remained a mystery to Kuroh. He had a fairly good grasp on Ichigen’s disposition and how he lived in this village, but as for the other mask Ichigen wore–that of a King with supernatural powers–he’d hardly been told anything.
And there was one reason for that…
To be continued…
