Part 1 - shikon

"Rei-sama! Rei-sama, have you seen my jewel?"

The elder looked up, surprised. "Death?"

"Don't you remember? It's red in color, with tinges of blue inside…"

"Ah, yes!" She remembered correctly now. "The one you created… Right?"

He nodded. The beautiful elder, dressed in dark maroon robes, stood up and brushed her wavy hair away from her face.

"No, I haven't seen it." She glided across the room. "Do you remember where you have left it?"

Arihito shook his head sadly. He had spent so much time and effort on it, even for him, who was omnipotent. "I don't."

"Let me see… You were playing with the soul jades around there." Rei glanced down warmly at him, her calm green eyes soothing him. "You probably left it somewhere around there."

He nodded, and materialized in front of the cradle. It was a huge cradle embedded into the land of the portal between Heaven and Earth, right near the place where he worked in. This was where the souls were waiting to be born, after being cleansed. Arihito liked to go there once in a while; he loved to see how they were before they lived through life and met with him. They were so pure, so different from when they ended.

Usually so sad as well. Before, and after. Arihito remembered studying the soul jades as he was making his piece of jewel. He had wanted to make a sculpture of the soul jades themselves, so that he could show the souls what they were like before they were suitable to be born in a body. Somehow, it had turned out different. He simply supposed it was not in his area to imitate a soul jade, and left it at that.

His jewel seemed to beckon to him; he could feel its pulses from underneath the pile of spherical translucent jades. Slowly, he picked it out.

His eyes widened at the sight. He had never expected such a thing to happen…

The jewel was encased in the middle of the jade. It had grown more transparent, from a saturated green to a light, almost transparent blue. The jewel, however, was there, its red coming out in thin wisps inside the jade, the blue tinges merging with the red in the middle to form purple. It glowed brighter than the other jades, seemingly enhanced by Arihito's power.

Slowly, he held it close, not knowing what to do. It seemed as if the soul and his jewel had merged together by some strange force.

What if something went wrong…?

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to get it out as soon as possible, but it would mean smashing the jade into two. He held it tighter at the thought of it; he couldn't. He loved every soul. He couldn't simply destroy one like that, couldn't kill one with a single movement.

He wasn't aware of it, but he was sobbing regretfully.

Rei appeared by his side, her comforting hand placed on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Death. I don't think any harm was done."

Arihito looked up hopefully, his hands holding the jade carefully, his face warmly illuminated by the glow.

"Just that this is a celestial object… Whether knowingly or not, it is its fault that it should ever steal this jewel… He'll have a destiny filled with darkness."

Arihito glanced down into the jade again, not sure of what to do. Slowly, his eyes slid close, as he felt the energy patterns of the soul, which was merging with a part of his own, and imprinted it in his mind. He didn't intend to tell Rei.

Rei smiled comfortingly. "Don't worry. He should be fine."

"It's all my fault…" Those patterns seemed to vibrate in harmony to Arihito's touch. He wanted to cry; he almost did. But he didn't.

***

Arihito had grown up with the boy as he had; he stayed by his side every moment. His name was Yukiya, a fine boy with dark, red lips and a delicate bone structure. His life was an unhappy one; he was an outcast as a kid. Much more happened, of course. Arihito was not sure what he could do if Yukiya were to die right then, but Yukiya lived on. His energy patterns were stronger than any other kids. There were times when he wished to die, but he never did, even though sometimes he was near to it. Maybe the jewel wanted him to live on.

He kept a close watch, growing fonder and fonder of this sad boy as days passed. It was the same towards everyone. Almost; since it was not his job to watch people grow up. Yet it was the same for everyone; because he heard them tell him their life story as they died. He saw, and he knew.

Yukiya required his visit sometimes. Arihito materialized beside him during those times, just so that Yukiya could see him. As far as Yukiya remembered, Arihito had been there since he was born. Somehow.

No one else had seen Arihito before, and he couldn't tell anyone. Yet everyone would find that he was scary.

"It's almost as if you can see… Things lurking behind you," Hideyoshi had told him, right before D=sire disbanded.

***

There was a bird flying in the sky. No... Two, he counted. He didn't move, until someone patted him none-too-gently on the back.

"Yuki-chan, what are you doing?" A familiar face came into view, as he lowered his head.

"Ari-chan--" He smiled, shaking his head. "Nothing... .. ."

Arihito laughed gently as he looked up at the sky where Yukiya was watching. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"....." He didn't say a word. There was nothing he could say to disagree, even though he didn't feel anything for it.

"What's wrong with you? You seem to be in a daze lately," Arihito's eyes flooded over with a worried glaze.

"I'm fine." With that, he plopped down onto the garden bench. "What are you doing here?"

".... I was following you," Arihito confessed, looking guilty now. "You know I follow you wherever you go."

Yukiya raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He let his eyes wander from his friend's face towards the dustbin somewhere in a distance. Arihito sat down beside him, and they remained like that for a while.

"....A feather," Arihito left his side, jogging slightly towards a white fluff fluttering down from air. It landed on his palms exactly, and satisfied, Arihito came strolling back, an endearing smile on his lips. Yukiya watched him as he returned to the seat, as he studied the feather with such careful intensity.

"What are you doing with it?" Yukiya couldn't help asking, an amused look on his face.

He held it near, and took a deep breath. "It smells... Like a bird would."

".......How silly," Yukiya sighed, turning away.

"...Yuki-chan, you're really not your usual self."

"So... What is my usual self?" He murmured bitterly.

"I don't know. But, you're so distant now." He held out the feather, right in front of Yukiya's face. "Here."

"I don't like birds," Yukiya replied. He took it, and flung it with all his strength. It didn't fly far; only sailed up slowly, and gently landed onto the cemented ground.

Arihito grew silent. He stood up, and left. Yukiya watched him walk away, gradually increasing his steps till it seemed that he was running.

"....I don't like birds." He bent forward to pick it up, and smelt it. Arihito was right; it smelt as a bird would.

***

Towards these "things", Yukiya never felt afraid.

He knew that there was no one other than Arihito. He wished Arihito would go away; Arihito had told him he was Death. Death couldn't mean anything good. Nothing which took lives away did. Arihito had tried explaining that Death didn't take lives away; Death was only the bridge of a soul between two worlds. There was only Heaven, and Earth, Arihito had said, but Yukiya never believed so.

He knew he was condemned to hell, one reason or another. It seemed only right. He who was hated by people, he who had hurt, he who had loved, he who had survived when he shouldn't have.

He hadn't been to the sea a long time. Ever since Arihito had left him at the park, Yukiya wondered if Arihito was starting to hate him.

"Death who loves everyone," He murmured, putting his hand into his pocket. He had kept the feather by his side, ever since then. "Death who knows all."

He wondered of Arihito would know what was wrong with him, but if he did, he figured, he won't have asked. It would be redundant. Yukiya didn't know what was wrong with himself either, but it felt to him that this person, the only person who had been close since young, had brought him all the bad things in his life. Because of Arihito, he was isolated. It felt as if his heart was bleeding since young, from the loneliness.

***

part 2 –maigo no me

Monday, November 20, 2000

Hidoko Matsumoto

In his childhood, there had been nothing but tears and hatred to remember.

Through the mists of those tears and pain, there was only one light which shone through, and it was Arihito. Whenever he cried, it would be Arihito's warmth which comforted him; when he smiled, it would be Arihito's laughter which sounded in his ears.

As a child, there had been no reasons to hide himself, because everyone hated his face, whether he donned a mask or not. Gradually, there had only been the shell, him, and Arihito. It seemed like forever. Laughter, tears, it would be Arihito. No matter what he did to try and release his pain, no matter what he did to try and forget his sin, Arihito would know, and Arihito would smile and in his own discreet way, tell him to not do it again.

Yet would Arihito ever know, the true reason behind his straying?

The first whore whom he met was named Hayato. He remembered that, so clearly and vividly, even when it meant nothing to be a customer of one of them.

When he stepped out of the building, all he could see was Arihito who stood in front of the building, looking so concerned. "I was so worried that something happened to you."

Arihito knew what he did, where he went, and he always worried.

Such a silly Death, isn't it?

Death. A supposed guy in a hooded cape, riding a horse, with the face of a skeleton and treads over everyone. Wasn't that supposed to have been what Death was? Not that Death would have existed…

The only way to comfort, is to take away a piece of that person, and replace it with warmth…

Such was the warmth that Yukiya knew, and such was the warmth that he hated.

Such was the warmth he treasured, and such was the warmth he loved.

***

The person whom he first found himself devoting entirely to was Mariki.

She was a pretty office girl, working nine-to-five every day, passing by his house at eight in the morning with a bright smile on her face. When she saw him, she would say hi, and she would walk away. Yukiya had been enchanted by her.

He started with a nervous hi, and gradually got to ask her out. Every time, Arihito was there. He would grin cheerfully and say hi to her as well.

It was their first date, a memorable day. They'd done some fun things together, and were walking along the bridge after dinner.

They stopped, to look at the river. It was cold, he vaguely remembered, something which sent chills down his spine.

Mariki spoke first. "Your brother…"

"Nnn?"

"There's an endearing quality about him," Mariki told him, with a gentle smile on her lips. "He seems like a good person."

"I know," Yukiya replied. He hadn't told Mariki how young he felt compared to Arihito. "He is."

They had lapsed into silence again, and then they talked some more, on Mariki's home. Yukiya listened. They lapsed into silence some more, gazed at each other, and kissed, before finishing the walk at Mariki's home.

She hadn't been a wicked person, not really. She was nice, one of the nicest people he'd ever known.

To him, at least.

He knew she loved him, and he knew that he loved her, and that was all that mattered.

Then, she was down with cancer.

"Do something!" Yukiya had pleaded Arihito. "You're Death, aren't you?! You're the omnipotent Death! You can heal her… You can!!"

"I'm sorry, Yukiya…" Arihito looked directly into his face, his expression solemn in the sickly color of the hospital hall. "…I can't alter her destiny… She's bound to meet me soon."

"You bastard… You're no different from the monster everyone made you out to be!" He yelled.

He didn't go back to her bedside for days, knowing that if he did, he would break. Arihito waited, beside Mariki, until he appeared to Yukiya.

"She's dying," He told Yukiya. "Go back to her…"

Sure enough, she was. She smiled, and said that she finally understood why she felt so endeared to Arihito. She said she loved him, for the last time, and drifted away, her physical form wavering thin and weak and ugly like all corpses were.

***

None of the lovers he had made any more difference from Mariki.

He knew, he blamed, and he grew tired.

Arihito never changed. He was there when Yukiya was there, he was there when Yukiya was not.

Gradually, Yukiya returned to the warmth which he hated most, even though he was still as lost as he had been before he met Mariki.

He loved her. It was as simple as that.

He changed. He hated Arihito, and decided to show it.

No matter how many times he yelled at him, no matter how many times he reacted coldly towards Arihito's attempts to cheer him up….

He looked down at the feather, as the wind sifted through his hair. It took flight, with the wind, and gradually, went away from him.

Arihito wasn't there. He prayed Arihito wasn't there…

Something inside him knew, Arihito couldn't be there because he hadn't wanted Arihito to be.

One step at a time, he allowed himself to move. The sea seemed to welcome him with its waves, and he knew… If Arihito was there, Arihito would look sad for a while, then smile gently, and tell him that he'd see him at the end of it. Even if Arihito hated him…. .

No. Arihito would never hate him.

That smile echoed in his mind, like a resounding song.

Because he had forgotten Mariki… He might as well be dead.

He had forgotten her because of that someone, who had taken a part of him and replaced it with warmth.

He knew how hard it would be for someone to die in the sea, for he knew that when one was about to die, one's basic instincts would act up, and he would struggle.

By sheer will, something weighed him down, and he sank…

Was it the truth, or was it his delusion of wishes?

I don't like birds… Arihito…. ..

Because the warmth that's like the sky can never solely be mine…………

***

It hadn't been because of Arihito that he had been isolated, he realized, as he stared at the lovely figure in the bleak world that was his mentality.

"So.. I've arrived where everyone has arrived." He murmured. It had only been a statement; he hadn't expected any response. "So you're really Death after all."

"Yes… Everyone…" Arihito smiled. He wore a normal expression, as if he had enjoyed breathing.

"… .Is everyone's bridge like this…?" He asked.

"No…. ..Everyone has a different bridge. Kids have bridges full of clowns and teddybears and dolls, adults had faces of their loved people, familiar buildings, and so on.. …." Arihito explained patiently. "And some of them have snakes. It depends on you, Yukiya…"

"Is this weird?"

"No," Arihito smiled, stepping closer, and he held Yukiya as he used to. It was such a loving gesture, a caring one… "That's why you died.. . It was your will."

"….I know." Yukiya sighed, as he closed his eyes. One last time…. It hurt so much. "I know I was cursed."

"You're not cursed, Yukiya. It was my fault.. ."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Arichan… I don't want to know… ..But I want to ask you something."

"…nnn.?"

"Do you really… love everyone the same way, no matter who they are, and what they did?"

"….yes."

No wonder his world had been so bleak… .. .Yukiya almost wanted to cry, yet tears won't come. He knew tears would never come, yet his heart was already crying, for the world was drizzling.

And it hurt so much.

It seemed as if the whole world echoed with his feeling…. That was his consciousness.

"… .Are you okay, Yukiya?" Arihito asked, his large eyes wide with concern.

"I'm never okay… Arihito, you should know," Yukiya suddenly addressed Arihito by his full name. It seemed as if he had wanted to wipe off everything, and cease the rain.. .. But he knew it won't, for it rained harder. "You knew when I was hurting. You knew when to comfort me. You knew when to smile and when to look after me. You knew when Mariki was dying. You knew even when I really wanted to die. There's nothing you didn't know, you even know what happens after death… …"

"… ." Stunned silence.

"We'll never meet again, Arichan…" He finally said, when he found his voice. He couldn't see Arihito's expression, for he had buried his face into that embrace which he was so used to. Such a person, who knew what he had done, who knew that no one wanted him. Such a person, who knew all that yet still loved him regardless… .

".. .Yes…"

"Eternity is such a long time.. …….."

"…. ..I know."

"Do you understand…?" Yukiya finally asked, his eyes filled with incomprehensible pain.

"Yes…" Arihito replied. "I've lived for thousands of years, ever since the last Death.. .. Even Dream has died, and he felt gray."

"You don't, you don't know at all. …" Yukiya finally looked away from Arihito's eyes, as he held Arihito closer, and kissed him gently on his cheek. "…. Can you hold me for a little longer, before you let me go?"

". ..I can hold you."

The touch was still the same; the love was still the same. They seemed to engulf him with their gentility, Arihito's vast gentility. For a moment, Yukiya wished he wasn't a mere being, and he wished he didn't feel love like it was a rare jewel.

All his life, he only had someone in his mind. It hadn't been Mariki, either.

And that someone was a person who loved him no matter what.. ..

That someone was a person who loved everyone the same way. Such a wide heart… .So wide that there was no boundaries. It was that love that Arihito could own his job, the love that wiped away all sins and desires.

When he finally let go, he was convinced that there was only hell in his way…. ..

That moment had seemed like forever, and it had gone. "I love you, Arihito."

He knew what Arihito was going to say.. .. "I love you too."

"But you love everyone," He pushed Arihito away, staring into his face one last time, and finally ran through the portal.

He had been so swift; he almost didn't see those tears as he turned his head to have a last glimpse of Arihito… .. . And there were tears on those beatific cheeks, almost sparkling, for the world had turned from a dank gray to black. The rain had stopped, and there was only Arihito… ..

So, Arihito could cry after all.

Perfect Arihito, perfect Death.

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