Chapter Text
That night, when Shin’s back home, Sakamoto isn’t there.
He knows clearly that he did not have a mission, meeting, or other work to do — Well, then the only reason for it to happen, is that he left. Probably never coming back.
Despite Sakamoto never telling Shin anything, he very much knew it. Like what Sakamoto said, he’s a smart kid.
Just that he did not expect it to be tonight. But it would happen sooner or later, anyway.
People important to him would always leave at some point in his life, then knock on the door of Shin’s dream from time to time, rushing in before Shin could even say a word. Arbitrarily, they always leave colourful graffiti on the white walls in Shin’s world, then fade when the sweet dream ends, leaving Shin to confront the cornering empty void again.
Well, he’s weak and can’t do much, never useful at important moments, and has some ever-so-weird superpowers. No wonder that folks stay away from him.
Being particularly sensitive and acquiescent in these things, Shin has already sensed Sakamoto’s departure.
The very first warning that Shin could find, is the subtle change in Sakamoto’s aura. The time is around Christmas.
He does not know how to describe this tenuous difference in his temperament, considering that Sakamoto’s still the undefeatable legendary assassin at work. It’s just something in his eyes, that the bloodlust level has decreased, his cold sharpness and otherworldly indifference were replaced by a softer glint.
It began so teeny-tiny that Shin thought it’s a delusion, but when it expanded to the extent that he could not be mistaken… He was certain that something must have happened somewhere he did not know.
The next clue is Sakamoto’s care that — basically began out of nowhere.
Sakamoto was already treating him better than anyone he’d met — so much that it surprised him — so it would be strange of him to be even better.
From one day on, Sakamoto asked whether Shin had 3 meals every day, on time, and with balanced nutrients — and as it happened, forced him to have a meal of carbohydrates and vegetables a day. When he’s paradoxically having JAA rations. As Shin remembered, later, Sakamoto even tended to disappear during lunches and dinners. Again, to who-knows-where.
After food, Sakamoto was suddenly attentive to his clothing. Ignoring Shin’s protests that he’s fair enough with those he has, Sakamoto bought some expensive clothes for him. When his closet has only black-and-white suits since they met.
Shin was flabbergasted by his sudden show of kindness — and honestly, a bit cheered too — but sensing that something was about to happen, he could not bring himself to 100% gratitude, with a higher percentage of worries than happiness.
Shin recalls the subsequent hint of Sakamoto walking off him.
Sakamoto started to halt abruptly when he talked or worked, engrossed in his own world — as if visited by an image of some precious moments or people.
It mostly took place when he was staring at a building, or a bush, or the sky afar (when they did not actually catch his eye), his gaze was also lost in the distance. Sometimes it was when he’s chatting with Shin, and something touched him. And infrequently, it was when he’s enjoying his meal, his food still in his mouth, and he stopped chewing.
And even in the middle of an assignment. Although it did not sway the perfect death of their target, from the above, it is seen that there isn’t any pattern in Sakamoto’s actions.
Shin reminisces that once when Sakamoto ate two mouthfuls of rice and started staring at the thin air for ten minutes.
‘By the way, last week, I was out on the streets meandering and something really interesting happened —’
Shin was originally elaborating rather gaily about something whose precise content he had already forgotten by now, but Sakamoto did not reply, just pondering like he’s not listening.
‘Guess what? Those jerks said they 'don’t really know' — well, that’s not what they thought. So then I…’
Shin stopped talking. He deliberately chose to leave a cliffhanger.
Any normal person socialising should, and would ask for what happened next — But, well, rather unsurprisingly, Sakamoto did not react.
Not because he’s not a normal person but a top killer, but just simply because he was not paying attention. Probably at all.
Normally, notwithstanding that he isn’t particularly interested in the topic, Sakamoto will nod, or reply something like ‘Oh yeah. Is it?’, or answer in his mind.
Silence wrapped the living room. Shin stiffened at its echoes from the wall, feeling as if he was slowly ingested by the ogre.
So, it’s that again.
Shin could not resist the urge to ask, ‘Sakamoto-san?’
Sakamoto looked back as if he woke up and just saw him, ‘Oh. Shin.’
‘Everything okay?’
‘Sorry, I was — nothing.’
Shin listened carefully, and his mind was silent, like a tranquil lake.
Sakamoto is a taciturn person, preferring to communicate with Shin through his thoughts than opening his mouth, yet even his mind was gradually shut to Shin.
Shin could not meet his eyes behind the glasses, and reckon what was constantly on his mind — Well, Sakamoto is an expert even in controlling his mind, and Shin is just not skilful with socialising.
Sakamoto pulled the gate in his heart, which seemed to have a narrower pathway, surrounded by those fluorescent yellow tapes the police use to mark a caution area and prohibit irrelevant idlers from walking through. Shin saw a huge notice saying in caps: ‘NO ACCESS’, blocking him from entering. Despite paying ultra attention to listen to Sakamoto’s thoughts the whole day, what Shin could hear was only a few lines — and he always felt like sneaking through somewhere he should not.
After being unable to listen to his thoughts, Shin found himself almost unable to communicate with Sakamoto, which only reminded him once again how incompetent he’s without his esper.
‘Why? How? What did I do wrong?’ He wanted to ask, so many times, so many times every day. But he never did.
Knowing that that’s the merely annoying part of his personality, however curious, he never sticks his nose into Sakamoto’s departure. Not asking too many whys, not dwelling on things that just wouldn’t change, is one of the very few virtues that he can acknowledge — he doesn’t want to destroy even this.
Unexpected changes would never be good, and happy days have an expiration date, are what he learnt from experience.
From Sakamoto’s turnabout, they are verified again.
Just… something true will be true forever.
Planned to say farewell to Sakamoto-san, but there seemed to be no chance right now.
Shin let out a chuckle, and thought, ‘But his departures are always hasty, undignified and far from decency. Haven’t said ‘goodbye’ to Ando, Asakura and Sakamoto, guess that’s fate.’
Never mind.
These two years with Sakamoto-san, are already good enough in themselves.
He would place it in the small box where his precious memories are saved, gently with gratitude. Like having some sweets when you’re sad, he’ll look back on those memories to get through the lonely days.
===
Albeit Sakamoto left him with a place to live and some money, living in the dark world of assassins isn’t that easy.
As Sakamoto left, the assignments available for Shin to choose from reduced drastically; He lived frugally, but without a reliable source of income, it’s still very, very hard.
What’s worse is that he stupidly hurt himself during a mission, meaning not only expensive medical fees but also no missions in the meantime when his wounds are healing.
He thought of not relying on the hitman industry too. Though it sounded ridiculous from just how incongruous he is to the normal world, believe it or not getting a proper job is stabler and more profitable in the long term — Ironic, right?
However, not properly educated, with no experience, no network, and not even 18, he had no choice.
Well, he technically still has some very limited choice, but Shin did not want to be mingled with illegal drugs or underage pornography, which leaves the only route of killing.
Slapped by the jerk named reality, Shin thought, ‘That’s why once a wise man said you could not escape from the hitman industry once you stepped in, like being engulfed by an abyss.’
Shin knew that without a doubt, he could not afford the rent for the following months, hence before being kicked out shamelessly, he ended the contract with the landlord, Hisaizumi-san.
When he was packing his stuff, Shin realised that he actually needed only very few, and all his belongings could not fit in a backpack. Well, he somewhat made it this way, quite deliberately.
Sakamoto asked him ‘Would you like something?’ a few times, and all his answers were a firm ‘no’.
New T-shirts, manga, snacks, games…
Not that he did not want them, but… did he really need them? No. He won’t be dead or something without those things anyway, so saving money is the more practical choice. Having more liquid cash with you is never a bad deal.
The reason behind this, other than Shin’s reluctance to spend Sakamoto’s money — despite the legendary assassin emphasising that he has lots of, is — ‘Don’t leave with too many connections that tie you back, so you can leave at any time.’
A memory that Shin hadn’t revisited for some time flashed into his mind, the advice of a long-time-no-see hitman senior stung him through the smoke and through time.
‘Shin, ‘cause people like us won’t stay in one place for long… Unlike the normal civilians, ain’t no ambitions — ha, well, we’ve targets to murder tho’ — ain’t no peace, ain’t no promises. Ha! Don’t really know when you’re gonna die, ‘nd where your grave’s gonna be.’
Mr Takasawa blew a smoke ring and watched it disperse in the air.
When it faded, he told him, ‘Prepare for departures for every encounter, so it’s less painful than dealing with it impromptu.’
Even though the senior is a heartless person, his words often hit hard, with the vicissitude of a hitman who’s been through peaks and troughs.
I wonder what happened to Takasawa-san now… Still alive? Or is he… I worked with him only for 3 months — and even then our schedule was irregular — before I met Sakamoto, and I heard from someone else that soon after I left, he left too.
Contemplating for a long while, Shin could not throw the only photo he had taken with Sakamoto in the bin.
He, in the photo, beamed whole-heartedly — taking the stroll down his memory lane, Shin felt the same excitement warming his heart. Standing by his side, Sakamoto had a light, rare smile; not looking at the camera, but gazing softly at him.
A tinge of sadness ambushed, and gradually annexed Shin’s feigned calmness.
Drops of tears fell onto the photo, sliding past. Even Shin’s wide smile reflected in it was distorted after being magnified by the water droplet.
Why… I knew it beforehand, and prepared myself for it, yet it still hurts so much? ...Don’t think it’s less painful despite all the mental preparation…
This is probably something that he’ll never get used to.
Shin wiped the tears on the photo with a trembling hand and put it carefully in his bag as if afraid of creating folds on it.
Just bring this away with me as well, and restore this place to the way I first came. As if nothing has happened— Don’t hark back to the past. It’s gone, and will never come back.
===
Before Shin left the apartment, the kind-hearted owner of the house, Mrs. Hisaizumi asked him, ‘Shin, can you tell me why are you suddenly going?’
‘Um, Sakamoto-san has left. Well, the cost of living in Tokyo is high too… I could not afford the rent either… And I don’t really have any emotional attachment to this place anyway.’
The first two were from both reality and the bottom of Shin’s heart, but the last part wasn’t. As the old saying goes, a good lie ought to be a mixture of truth and falsehood.
Hisaizumi-san seemed to acknowledge the key points in Shin's response.
She held his hand and looked into him, the sheer compassion in her eyes overwhelming the blonde, ‘Y’know, if you can’t afford the rent, I can give you credit for one or two months, okay?’
Feeling an affliction in his conscience, Shin was clearly agitated, ‘No, no, that’s… How could I do that?’
This reply was very sincere.
‘‘Kay. By the way, d’you have anywhere to go? Do you need me to ask some of my friends in Tokyo — or somewhere else — for an apartment? Like me, they won’t mind that you’re a 14-year-old hitman. And those are away from the centre of the city, so much cheaper, unlike here where the average’s ¥100,000 per person.’
‘Ah, don’t worry, I’m fine.’
Shin did not reply to the first question, but he wasn’t lying in his answer. That would be too much. He didn’t want to be a burden or trouble for anyone.
‘Really?’Hisaizumi’s sharp instinct that belongs to a middle-aged woman kicked in, ‘You sure? Need me to contact Sakamoto? Hell, he just disappeared into the thin air two months ago — how irresponsible, not even saying anything to explain —’
It’s been two months, but when Hisaizumi mentioned Sakamoto’s name, Shin still felt a pricking pain in his chest.
But weighing what’s more important, he stopped Hisaizumi’s hasty steps to the phone, ‘I have an acquaintance in Sano (1), who said that he didn’t mind me living with him. Sakamoto-san also knew this, and we discussed the details — before he left, reassured.’
‘Oh… Aye? What’s that guy’s name? And what is your relationship with him?’
‘His name is Mr. Goodman (2), a distant relative of my mother. His children are grown-ups and most of them have already started their families, with the smallest child being in a university far from home — so he has spare rooms for me.’
Mrs Hisaizumi pondered with her squinty eyes, ‘Hm… By the way that you’re saying this… Is he a normal civilian?'
‘Ah, yes.’Shin scratched his neck uneasily, ‘He doesn’t seem to know a lot about my father and Sakamoto-san… I think he’s just a normal person away from the bloody sphere…’
‘Hmm…’
‘He’s got some English blood and owns a restaurant, which is doing quite well, but he said that he always wanted a helping hand for his restaurant, and is happy to provide for my education and living.’
Hisaizumi stared at Shin silently, examining the trueness of Shin’s words. She was clearly thinking about something.
Shin put on a decent smile but was slightly pressured by the woman’s stare.
Then, Shin heard Hisaizumi’s thoughts, “Finally… I always think that children shan’t be hitmen. But this industry has countless insane things going on every single day… Perhaps ain’t gonna change unless some hare-brained terrorists bombarded JAA’s headquarters and assassinated its current lead, Asaki.”
“Though this child’s always worrying me by the way that he’s definitely the type that tends to die soon, it’s unlikely that what he said is utterly gibberish if he can give me so many details.”
“Moreover, the Sakamoto that I know is trustworthy — he ain’t an impulsive guy. He can’t just abandon Shin without telling him anything, or doing anything, right?”
Shin maintained the smile of politeness, although embarrassment and fear threatened to take over now. Thank God that he never told Hisaizumi-san that he is clairvoyant. Or else it would be disastrous right now.
“That would be ridiculous. I’ll smash the shit out of him if he does that.”
Hearing this, Shin felt a crack in his poker face. He clung to the hem of his shirt harder, sweat forming on his palms.
After a sarcastic mental laugh, Hisaizumi went on in her thoughts, “Ultimately, if what Shin said’s truly happening, it’s very lucky of Shin to be kept away from this gross stuff and grow up like a normal child. Nonetheless, that’s probably the best news lately.”
Hisaizumi finally said, ‘Okay. Sorry for asking that much.’
Honestly, Shin was relieved at the remark, acknowledging that this conversation which created a feeling like being interrogated inside him, was coming to an end.
‘It’s fine.’
‘Hey, Shin, take care.’
‘Yes, I will. Thank you for these 2 years, Hisaizumi-san. I wish you all the best.’
Well, the truth is, there isn’t any good-natured distant relative Mr Goodman.
Only 3 bad problems: no money, no hope, and no future for Shin.
Shin chuckled at the thought; He leaned on the alley of Tokyo, relying on the small umbrella from the convenience store to defend himself from the bombarding rain.
It’s not that he’s a newbie to homelessness, but the gap between the safe, happy life in the 2 years, and the month of worrying about food and shelter is pretty much the difference from heaven to hell as if fate is scorning him.
Nevertheless, Shin knows that happiness will not last forever. Like the Little Match Girl would meet the moment when she runs out of matches to ignite, luck is something disposable — everyone has a different volume, though you never know how much you’ve left yet, but someday it will reach its demise.
Shin thinks his own luck is like the cigar pinched by Sakamoto’s fingers, most of it burnt to ashes and transient mists, leaving only a few scattered sparks in the inky night — and even that was almost exhausted.
He glared at the reflection of himself in the puddle of the alley: a dishevelled appearance, grimy clothes, hopeless eyes of a dead blue, resembling a homeless ronin (3).
And that’s accurate. He’s indeed a vagrant.
Waves of laughter from the distance interrupted his chain of thoughts.
Amidst the stream of indifferent passengers, in the scene with overlapping shadows of colourful umbrellas, a few boys and girls roughly the same age as him — Shin thought they’re probably one or two years older than him — ran wildly in the rain through the streets of Tokyo, shielding themselves with their school-bags.
‘Uwahahahahah—’
‘My god, whose idea is this? This is so chyu-nii (4)!’
‘Hey, Imazaki, wait f’ me!’
‘Ah! It’s so cold!’
‘ISHIDA! IMAZAKI! Stop running on the streeeeeets—!’
Shin has a grasp of their uniform. It’s a private school in Tokyo, rather famous for its free school spirit.
Wednesday. 10 o’clock in the morning. They’re surely skipping lessons.
Shining brightly like under the sun even in the heavy rain — guess that’s what’s called ‘youth’.
Shin could not help but think, what if he’s not the child of Ando, not raised by Asakura in the lab, not an assassin trained by Sakamoto, but born in an ordinary family, or adopted by one… Maybe what he has is a carefree and peaceful life like those dashing kids.
Not like some pathetic street rat.
What does it feel like, to skip school with your friends, to face the piercing glares of strangers like nothing, to do something as cliché as hurtling down the vibrant city with an unwavering determination, as seen in the old Japanese dramas?
What does it feel like, to go through the peak of your life like lightning, loud and bright?
What does it feel like, not being chased by a hitman and nonetheless running your lives out, feeling alive?
Shin doesn’t have any friends, courage, or the experience of a normal life.
These sound distant, but not unimaginable. Maybe that's the nature of a dream.
Shin was always said to be short (obviously because the comparative figures are too tall) and have a baby face that makes him look even younger. If he wears the high-school uniform to Asakura and Sakamoto, would they finally think he’s grown up?
Unfortunately, life has no ifs.
He's a slow learner, but not a dumb one. He already learnt it.