Threads of Fate

Every night, the stars lighting the endless darkness seemed to shine a little bit brighter. It was as if they were mocking the war that spread across the earth below. Jin glanced up at them, truly without any emotion at all. A thin pillar of smoke was visible from a funeral pyre in the distance. He sat on the porch, alone. No sound came from within the empty house. No clanging from the kitchen, no voices from the center room, nothing. The evening was entirely still, except for the slow, billowing movement of the smoke.

They were all still at the funeral. Kohaku, at least, would probably notice he was gone soon. Resolving that this place was too easy to find, Jin got up, went around the house, and started a slow, sorrowful march down the road. To where was not really important, as long as it led him away from here.

His surroundings were a blur as he walked. Weakness soon made itself evident as his body threatened to give out with every step, but Jin showed no outward sign of it. His broken (to put it lightly) arm was hardly a dull ache. No injury on his body seemed to be anything but numbness after a while. Jin was highly resistant to pain; this was no ordeal.

It was his shattered psyche that hurt.

Finally, he stopped walking. His feet had carried him to the center of the village, with the tavern in sight. The surroundings brought him back to another time, when he'd stood exactly in this place, in the very early morning hours of a bitterly cold winter day, complete with flecks of snow drifting down from the steely gray sky… The boy in his memory had been sitting on the street corner, just sitting, with his flaxen hair dusted in white and staring straight up at the sky, as if to challenge the weather.

That was the first time he'd ever laid eyes on Nomura Kokoro.

Jin's soul felt entirely hollow as he went to sit the same way he had, enveloped in the same icy silence as that night. It was not something he was used to feeling at all… in fact, perhaps he'd never felt anything quite like this.

And so he just sat there. Just waiting. For nothing in particular. The same as back then.

Soon someone did come along. The light thud of their footsteps against the frozen ground alerted the ancient of someone's approach. He turned slowly, expecting to see Kohaku, but his eyes rested on a different figure.

"Hello," said the man.

Jin slowly raised himself off the ground to be at eye level with the other. "Kokutan," he greeted with a hint of bitterness.

But Kokutan said nothing in return. Instead, he sat next to where his son had been sitting, and he waited.

Unexpectedly, words began to pour out of Jin's mouth. The kind of things he would normally never say. But somewhere in him he found it acceptable to convey them to his elusive father. It almost seemed like it was justified by his anger at Kokutan.

"It was this night," he muttered. "That I saw when I was young. I remembered that vision when I came across him and I took him home. But it was really this night I'd seen then. I know now… It was all planned from the beginning. I tried to change my destiny, but I never really changed anything at all. In the end, I'm just a tool of fate."

Kokutan was silent for a moment. "It is true," he said solemnly, "That it is the burden of the time spirit to be a total slave of destiny. Everyone has their own reason for existing."

"This cannot be my reason for existing," Jin replied coldly.

"Perhaps," answered the god, "Or perhaps not. Does it really matter?" After another moment of silence, he added, "I trust you already know about… me and you."

"Yes. I remembered." Rage filled the emptiness inside him. "You left me alone in the abyss… To grow up in the shadows… where were you?"

Kokutan glanced down at his feet. "I… didn't know," he admitted. "I didn't know that I was your father until he was sent here. The gods put you two together, Jin."

More silence. Jin's aura fluctuated violently. "I know," he growled. "Everything… was planned… but…"

The god was still, having nothing to add.

"…Why?" He paused. Then he growled, with a vicious flare of energy appearing around his thin, pale form, "Why—didn't—you—save—him?!"

"It was his time," Kokutan replied calmly, sensing that the other was going into his aramitama mode. "Destiny has its ways, Jin."

Jin just stood and made a ferocious roar, having let his anger take over him.  His spirit energy whirled around him, making deep scars in the ground. At this rate, there was risk of him growing strong enough to inadvertently destroy the whole village, and Kokutan knew it.

"I don't want to fight you now," his father continued, with uncharacteristic seriousness, "Even if you're like this, your body is too weak. You're not the only divinity around here who can use aramitama state…" But he could only pray things didn't go that far.

It seemed like he was going to continue talking, but suddenly, a third, much younger voice interrupted.

"Stop!" Kohaku shouted, "Stop it! Stop!"

Sensing possible disaster, Kokutan immediately leapt in between him and Jin, but he soon found it wasn't needed: the angry spirit was frozen in place, his ki energy still except for pulsing rhythmically.

"Stop, Jin!" the boy continued. He ran around the defensive entity and flung himself at his shikigami.

Kokutan's instinct was to grab the boy and pull him away, but he wasn't quite quick enough. The lanky teenager slipped through his grip. But somewhere in that same moment, Jin's raging energy died down, and he passed through unharmed.

And in the next moment, it was all over.

"…it's all okay now," Kohaku whispered. "Everything's gonna be okay after all." Jin slumped in his grip, barely conscious if at all, and the boy fell to his knees. Two hundred years ago, he would sleep for a week following such an awakening… A solemn silence followed.

"Oy, Kohakun. I guess I did more harm than help here," the spirit said with a halfhearted chuckle.

The teen, tiny icicles sticking to his pure white hair, turned slowly, purposely. "It's not your fault at all, great spirit," he replied. Two years ago, he would have been shocked and ecstatic to catch a glimpse of a god like this. But the war had changed him, too. From within the shadow of a growing evil, he too had grown…

Kokutan inhaled a mouthful of frozen air, numbing his fingertips and stinging his lungs.  "Of course, I suppose you've outgrown that name now… Prince Hajime-sama."

He got on his knees and bowed, an action unprecedented for such a spirit.

Kohaku's body convulsed with silent sobs, and he buried his face in Jin's unconscious body.

"This wasn't what I wanted," he murmured. "Y'know, I used to have nightmares about becoming alpha when I was a kid… When other kids had nightmares about realizing they forgot to wear pants to training, or that they were being chased by some invisible force, for me, this was…"

"Everyone has a reason to exist," the spirit told him, having said nearly the same thing to Jin only minutes ago. "You can fight, but destiny almost always prevails in the end."

The boy looked down, his body conveying a sadness too deep for words. "I know," was all he said. "But… there is one person here who does control their own destiny, from here on out…"

"Yes," agreed Kokutan. "Just one."

Kohaku nodded. "Shiromoto Izanami…"

And that was the legacy of Nomura Kokoro.