Post by SHOZO on Dec 24, 2015 17:46:51 GMT -6
November 19th, 2015
Ryusei Arino wasn’t sure what would happen when he finally saw his brother again. A thousand different scenarios had run through his head. In some Shozo was angry, in some he was in despair, and in some he lashed out violently and madly. The one he found, he hadn’t thought about.
He was just...nothing.
Ryusei pushed the door to the roof of Shozo’s apartment building open, finding his brother sitting against the railing at the edge. Shozo looked up, not seeming surprised, not seeming anything.
SHOZO: I wondered when you’d show yourself.
Ryusei stepped forward, head tilting in confusion.
SHOZO: ...what?
Ryusei Arino: I was...I’m sorry, I was expecting something else.
Shozo shrugged.
SHOZO: What.
Ryusei Arino: ..anger.
SHOZO: Nah. I’ve spent too long being angry about you. I’ve...run out.
He stood next to Shozo now, looking down at his little brother, who continues to stare out.
Ryusei Arino: You have no anger left?
Shozo laughed.
SHOZO: No, of course not. I...I have too much.
A pause, and what Ryusei thought might have been a sniffle.
SHOZO: Every day. Every day is the same. I am angry at others. I am angry at myself. I sometimes think “ah, maybe I can change,” but then I wake up the next day and remain angry. And so I get angrier, but do nothing different. It is a cycle. And I…
A pause, as SHOZO reaches up and runs his hands through his hair.
SHOZO: I think I’ve spent so long being full of anger and hatred, that it squeezed everything else out of my body. That I wake up every day angry and hate-filled because I am just completely unable to do anything else now. I have ruined myself.
He reached up and rubbed his eyes, letting out a small laugh.
SHOZO: I’ve cried so much over this, I don’t think I even have any tears left in my body. Isn’t that sad?
Ryusei simply reached over and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Ryusei Arino: I’m so sorry, little brother. I should have been there for you.
SHOZO shook his head.
SHOZO: No. Don’t say that. Please. It’s not your fault. It never has been.
Ryusei started to argue, but SHOZO just kept on talking to stop him.
SHOZO: For so long I’ve blamed others for why I am the way I am. I blamed father, I blamed you, I blamed Kiriko, I blamed Shinji, Destiny, Tom, Collins, anyone. Everyone. But no one did this. No one came up to my life, to my mind, and cut at it with a box cutter until it was ribbons. No one but me. The only person to blame for any of this is me.
For a long time, there was only silence. Both men hung their heads, and said nothing.
Ryusei Arino: Shozo...
The hand on his shoulder again.
Ryusei Arino: I only want what is best for you, you know that.
SHOZO nodded.
SHOZO: Of course I know that.
Ryusei Arino: ...then please trust me.
SHOZO nodded, immediately, without thought.
SHOZO: Always.
Ryusei Arino: Thank you. Because I have to trust in a 50/50 chance.
SHOZO turned his head, to ask what he meant, only to find the barrel of a pistol pressed against his forehead.
SHOZO: Wha-
With a deafening bang, a hole was punched through SHOZO’s skull, spraying blood and brains out the back of his head.
SHOZO slumped over backwards, empty eyes staring up at the sky. Ryusei dropped the pistol and reached over, closing his dear brother’s eyes.
And then he began to wait.
--
Chris Strike: You’re going to do what?
The two men were sat in a diner, in a booth in the corner, as far away from prying ears as they could be. They conversed in Japanese, so Ryusei could fully get his ideas across, and so no one could hear him say he was going to kill his brother.
Ryusei Arino: What I said. I’m going to put Shozo down.
Chris Strike: Yeah, I got that part. I mean...why?
Ryusei Arino: Have you seen him?
Chris Strike: It’s hard to miss him. But...shouldn’t you be trying to save him?
Ryusei smiled, though there was little in the way of happiness behind it.
Ryusei Arino: That’s what I’m doing.
Chris Strike: ...okay?
Ryusei Arino: My brother is...hurt. There is so much wrong in his head. People beating him only makes him happy, destroying lives brings him joy. That is not something that can be fixed or saved from. He is wrong.
Strike nodded, solemnly.
Chris Strike: Yeah. Ryoma and me have had our worries about him. There must be some little bit of himself left in there, though. Some hope for you to hold onto.
Ryusei Arino: Of course there is. I am holding onto hope right now.
Strike looked confused, and this time it was with happiness that Ryusei smiled.
Ryusei Arino: This curse that flows through my family’s blood.
Chris Strike: ...I’m sorry, what?
Ryusei Arino: Think. What happened to my father, what happened to me. We died, murdered...and we rose again. Our wounds healed, our hearts beating once again. We were resurrected. What if that’s done to Shozo? Maybe...maybe if he dies, and the curse brings him back...maybe it will heal his broken mind. In some small way, even. Just a little bit, to let his heart beat again.
Strike listened to all of this, and seemed uncertain.
Chris Strike: Even if that’s true...we don’t know if it’s present in him. Your father was never even sure it was in you, Ryusei. Even if it healed the things wrong with your brother’s mind, and we don’t know that, he still could just not suffer from the curse. Meaning, you’d have killed him. Could you live with yourself?
For a moment, Ryusei only hung his head in silence. But, then, his head shook. He looked back up at Strike with sadness in his eyes.
Ryusei Arino: I had so many opportunities to help him. He would ask me every time we spoke, if he could come live with me and Kiriko. I knew so well the pressure he was under, the strain. How much it took out of him. But I was...selfish. I had finally managed to start living with her, even if it was because of my father’s help. I just wanted my time to be with her, the woman I loved. I didn’t...want my little brother getting in the way. Even though I knew he was unhappy, and how much of a good change it would be for his life if I said yes, I kept telling him to wait a little longer. Maybe I meant it, maybe I didn’t. I can’t remember anymore. And then my father stopped helping me financially, and everything became a mad scramble. Then I just ignored his pleas. I was too busy trying to save this happy life I had, that I never bothered to listen as he got more and more desperate and pleading to escape. He reached his hand out to me to save him, and I just looked at it and then left him to drown.
There is only silence for a while, as the two just sit. Finally, as Strike finally manages to find words, Ryusei speaks again.
Ryusei Arino: When I was stabbed, in that alleyway...there was only one thing I could think of. “Who will care for my little brother?” But, after that thought, was…”why do I only care now?” That was my last thought.
The man reaches up and rubs the back of his hand against his eyes. When the hand comes away, his eyes are steely.
Ryusei Arino: So I HAVE to put all of my faith into this. I have to look at something that has destroyed lives, tried to end the world, and caused so much despair and I have to hope that in all of that it can do one good thing, ONE miracle! I have to hope for the impossible, I have to be a complete blind fool and believe that the most unlikely thing will happen! Because that is all I have left!
Strike just stares at him, shocked at the passion being expressed by the resurrected man, who starts to stand up from their booth.
Ryusei Arino: Strike-san, thank you for everything. Don’t worry, no matter what happens, I’ll still be there to finish this tale of curses.
Chris Strike: I’m not worried about that, Ryusei-san. I’m worried about you.
Ryusei just smiles and pats him on the shoulder before walking away. Strike sits back in the bench, closing his eyes and sighing, only to realize someone has taken the empty bench across from him. He opens his eyes to find sitting across from him Papa Ryoma Arino. He blinks rapidly in surprise.
Chris Strike: ...Ryoma-san, have you been here-
Papa Ryoma Arino: The whole time.
Chris Strike: So you heard what Ryusei is going to do, and-
Papa Ryoma Arino: I already knew.
Chris Strike: ...sorry?
Papa Ryoma Arino: I already knew. And I will not stop him.
Strike just looked confused, and Papa sighed, and began to explain.
Papa Ryoma Arino: When Ryusei was born, I chose his path for him. He would be my successor, my legacy. The sum of everything I was. The one who would carry my name into the next generation of wrestlers. Through his successes I would be remembered. I was pushing him, hard, to become what I wanted. To be molded into what I thought he should be. A younger version of myself. And before I realized it was happening, my son grew distant. He worked independent shows, staying away from major companies despite my best attempts to get them to sign him. I tried to help him, financially, thinking it was just a phase. But deep down I knew. I had been too hard, too unfair, too pushy.
Papa Ryoma Arino: And so when Shozo was born I did not plan for him to be a wrestler. But, one day, he looked at me and said that he would become one. And so I obliged him. I trained him. And as I trained him, I stepped back. I grew distant, on purpose. I thought my mistake was that I was too close, too emotional in wanting to turn Ryusei into myself that I drove him away. So I treated Shozo not like a son, but a trainee. A trainee that was not progressing right, that was never good enough. I yelled, I shouted, I screamed at him. Because I thought that being tough was the right way, that only through pressure could a diamond be made. And as time went on, I needed him to become that diamond. Because as Ryusei became known for deathmatches, my name became associated with that. And it angered me, and I felt it brought shame to me. So I pushed Shozo harder and harder and harder, so he would not become his brother, who I cut all ties with. And what did that cause, Strike-san?
Papa Ryoma Arino: My eldest son died, alone, in a dirty alley. And my youngest slowly, slowly, cracked under the pressure and went insane.
Strike leaned forward in his bench, a sad frown on his face.
Chris Strike: Ryoma-san, you can’t-
Papa Ryoma Arino: I can. Because of me these things happened. Because of me, the lives of my children were ruined. Because of me, others were hurt and their lives affected. I am a failure of a trainer, and a failure of a father. That is sheer, simple, fact.
Papa stands up, moving away from the table and out of the booth. He looks down at Strike, frowning.
Papa Ryoma Arino: And that is why I will do nothing about Ryusei’s plan. Because after every poor choice I have made regarding my children, it is time that I finally let them make their own choices, without the pressure of me.
Strike had nothing to say, only offering a solemn nod. A small, sad smile came to Papa’s face, as he reached out and patted Strike on the shoulder.
Papa Ryoma Arino: You are a good man, Strike-san. Once we’ve finally gotten past this, I hope only happiness awaits you.
Strike nodded.
Chris Strike: And the same to you, Ryoma-san.
The smile on Papas face faded, and he says nothing, only turning and walking away. Strike listens to his footsteps until they recede too much to be heard over the din of conversation in the diner. Leaving Chris Strike alone with his thoughts.
--
He waited.
Ryusei sat by his dead brother, the pistol he’d used to do the deed tossed aside, and he waited.
He cast glances at his brother, hoping for some sign. And every time, it would be the same sight.
He sighed, deeply, and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He tapped a few times, starting a call, and put it to his ear. As he expected, it went to voicemail. That was for the best.
Ryusei Arino: Kiriko. I guess you already know it’s me. I don’t know if you still use this number, or if you’d just ignore this. I just...I’m sorry. For everything you’ve had to go through these past years because of me, I’m sorry. If I had any idea this might’ve happened I...never would have come into your life. You won’t hear from me again. Things are better if I’m gone. I hope you smile again someday. I love you.
With that finished he ends the call and looks at the phone for a moment, at the photo of her he has for her contact entry. He smiles at it for the last time, before pitching the phone over the edge of the roof. He turns to his dead brother, and looks down at him.
Ryusei Arino: ...please.
And then.
A spasm.
A breath.
And Shozo’s eyes opened.
End.
Ryusei Arino wasn’t sure what would happen when he finally saw his brother again. A thousand different scenarios had run through his head. In some Shozo was angry, in some he was in despair, and in some he lashed out violently and madly. The one he found, he hadn’t thought about.
He was just...nothing.
Ryusei pushed the door to the roof of Shozo’s apartment building open, finding his brother sitting against the railing at the edge. Shozo looked up, not seeming surprised, not seeming anything.
SHOZO: I wondered when you’d show yourself.
Ryusei stepped forward, head tilting in confusion.
SHOZO: ...what?
Ryusei Arino: I was...I’m sorry, I was expecting something else.
Shozo shrugged.
SHOZO: What.
Ryusei Arino: ..anger.
SHOZO: Nah. I’ve spent too long being angry about you. I’ve...run out.
He stood next to Shozo now, looking down at his little brother, who continues to stare out.
Ryusei Arino: You have no anger left?
Shozo laughed.
SHOZO: No, of course not. I...I have too much.
A pause, and what Ryusei thought might have been a sniffle.
SHOZO: Every day. Every day is the same. I am angry at others. I am angry at myself. I sometimes think “ah, maybe I can change,” but then I wake up the next day and remain angry. And so I get angrier, but do nothing different. It is a cycle. And I…
A pause, as SHOZO reaches up and runs his hands through his hair.
SHOZO: I think I’ve spent so long being full of anger and hatred, that it squeezed everything else out of my body. That I wake up every day angry and hate-filled because I am just completely unable to do anything else now. I have ruined myself.
He reached up and rubbed his eyes, letting out a small laugh.
SHOZO: I’ve cried so much over this, I don’t think I even have any tears left in my body. Isn’t that sad?
Ryusei simply reached over and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Ryusei Arino: I’m so sorry, little brother. I should have been there for you.
SHOZO shook his head.
SHOZO: No. Don’t say that. Please. It’s not your fault. It never has been.
Ryusei started to argue, but SHOZO just kept on talking to stop him.
SHOZO: For so long I’ve blamed others for why I am the way I am. I blamed father, I blamed you, I blamed Kiriko, I blamed Shinji, Destiny, Tom, Collins, anyone. Everyone. But no one did this. No one came up to my life, to my mind, and cut at it with a box cutter until it was ribbons. No one but me. The only person to blame for any of this is me.
For a long time, there was only silence. Both men hung their heads, and said nothing.
Ryusei Arino: Shozo...
The hand on his shoulder again.
Ryusei Arino: I only want what is best for you, you know that.
SHOZO nodded.
SHOZO: Of course I know that.
Ryusei Arino: ...then please trust me.
SHOZO nodded, immediately, without thought.
SHOZO: Always.
Ryusei Arino: Thank you. Because I have to trust in a 50/50 chance.
SHOZO turned his head, to ask what he meant, only to find the barrel of a pistol pressed against his forehead.
SHOZO: Wha-
With a deafening bang, a hole was punched through SHOZO’s skull, spraying blood and brains out the back of his head.
SHOZO slumped over backwards, empty eyes staring up at the sky. Ryusei dropped the pistol and reached over, closing his dear brother’s eyes.
And then he began to wait.
--
Chris Strike: You’re going to do what?
The two men were sat in a diner, in a booth in the corner, as far away from prying ears as they could be. They conversed in Japanese, so Ryusei could fully get his ideas across, and so no one could hear him say he was going to kill his brother.
Ryusei Arino: What I said. I’m going to put Shozo down.
Chris Strike: Yeah, I got that part. I mean...why?
Ryusei Arino: Have you seen him?
Chris Strike: It’s hard to miss him. But...shouldn’t you be trying to save him?
Ryusei smiled, though there was little in the way of happiness behind it.
Ryusei Arino: That’s what I’m doing.
Chris Strike: ...okay?
Ryusei Arino: My brother is...hurt. There is so much wrong in his head. People beating him only makes him happy, destroying lives brings him joy. That is not something that can be fixed or saved from. He is wrong.
Strike nodded, solemnly.
Chris Strike: Yeah. Ryoma and me have had our worries about him. There must be some little bit of himself left in there, though. Some hope for you to hold onto.
Ryusei Arino: Of course there is. I am holding onto hope right now.
Strike looked confused, and this time it was with happiness that Ryusei smiled.
Ryusei Arino: This curse that flows through my family’s blood.
Chris Strike: ...I’m sorry, what?
Ryusei Arino: Think. What happened to my father, what happened to me. We died, murdered...and we rose again. Our wounds healed, our hearts beating once again. We were resurrected. What if that’s done to Shozo? Maybe...maybe if he dies, and the curse brings him back...maybe it will heal his broken mind. In some small way, even. Just a little bit, to let his heart beat again.
Strike listened to all of this, and seemed uncertain.
Chris Strike: Even if that’s true...we don’t know if it’s present in him. Your father was never even sure it was in you, Ryusei. Even if it healed the things wrong with your brother’s mind, and we don’t know that, he still could just not suffer from the curse. Meaning, you’d have killed him. Could you live with yourself?
For a moment, Ryusei only hung his head in silence. But, then, his head shook. He looked back up at Strike with sadness in his eyes.
Ryusei Arino: I had so many opportunities to help him. He would ask me every time we spoke, if he could come live with me and Kiriko. I knew so well the pressure he was under, the strain. How much it took out of him. But I was...selfish. I had finally managed to start living with her, even if it was because of my father’s help. I just wanted my time to be with her, the woman I loved. I didn’t...want my little brother getting in the way. Even though I knew he was unhappy, and how much of a good change it would be for his life if I said yes, I kept telling him to wait a little longer. Maybe I meant it, maybe I didn’t. I can’t remember anymore. And then my father stopped helping me financially, and everything became a mad scramble. Then I just ignored his pleas. I was too busy trying to save this happy life I had, that I never bothered to listen as he got more and more desperate and pleading to escape. He reached his hand out to me to save him, and I just looked at it and then left him to drown.
There is only silence for a while, as the two just sit. Finally, as Strike finally manages to find words, Ryusei speaks again.
Ryusei Arino: When I was stabbed, in that alleyway...there was only one thing I could think of. “Who will care for my little brother?” But, after that thought, was…”why do I only care now?” That was my last thought.
The man reaches up and rubs the back of his hand against his eyes. When the hand comes away, his eyes are steely.
Ryusei Arino: So I HAVE to put all of my faith into this. I have to look at something that has destroyed lives, tried to end the world, and caused so much despair and I have to hope that in all of that it can do one good thing, ONE miracle! I have to hope for the impossible, I have to be a complete blind fool and believe that the most unlikely thing will happen! Because that is all I have left!
Strike just stares at him, shocked at the passion being expressed by the resurrected man, who starts to stand up from their booth.
Ryusei Arino: Strike-san, thank you for everything. Don’t worry, no matter what happens, I’ll still be there to finish this tale of curses.
Chris Strike: I’m not worried about that, Ryusei-san. I’m worried about you.
Ryusei just smiles and pats him on the shoulder before walking away. Strike sits back in the bench, closing his eyes and sighing, only to realize someone has taken the empty bench across from him. He opens his eyes to find sitting across from him Papa Ryoma Arino. He blinks rapidly in surprise.
Chris Strike: ...Ryoma-san, have you been here-
Papa Ryoma Arino: The whole time.
Chris Strike: So you heard what Ryusei is going to do, and-
Papa Ryoma Arino: I already knew.
Chris Strike: ...sorry?
Papa Ryoma Arino: I already knew. And I will not stop him.
Strike just looked confused, and Papa sighed, and began to explain.
Papa Ryoma Arino: When Ryusei was born, I chose his path for him. He would be my successor, my legacy. The sum of everything I was. The one who would carry my name into the next generation of wrestlers. Through his successes I would be remembered. I was pushing him, hard, to become what I wanted. To be molded into what I thought he should be. A younger version of myself. And before I realized it was happening, my son grew distant. He worked independent shows, staying away from major companies despite my best attempts to get them to sign him. I tried to help him, financially, thinking it was just a phase. But deep down I knew. I had been too hard, too unfair, too pushy.
Papa Ryoma Arino: And so when Shozo was born I did not plan for him to be a wrestler. But, one day, he looked at me and said that he would become one. And so I obliged him. I trained him. And as I trained him, I stepped back. I grew distant, on purpose. I thought my mistake was that I was too close, too emotional in wanting to turn Ryusei into myself that I drove him away. So I treated Shozo not like a son, but a trainee. A trainee that was not progressing right, that was never good enough. I yelled, I shouted, I screamed at him. Because I thought that being tough was the right way, that only through pressure could a diamond be made. And as time went on, I needed him to become that diamond. Because as Ryusei became known for deathmatches, my name became associated with that. And it angered me, and I felt it brought shame to me. So I pushed Shozo harder and harder and harder, so he would not become his brother, who I cut all ties with. And what did that cause, Strike-san?
Papa Ryoma Arino: My eldest son died, alone, in a dirty alley. And my youngest slowly, slowly, cracked under the pressure and went insane.
Strike leaned forward in his bench, a sad frown on his face.
Chris Strike: Ryoma-san, you can’t-
Papa Ryoma Arino: I can. Because of me these things happened. Because of me, the lives of my children were ruined. Because of me, others were hurt and their lives affected. I am a failure of a trainer, and a failure of a father. That is sheer, simple, fact.
Papa stands up, moving away from the table and out of the booth. He looks down at Strike, frowning.
Papa Ryoma Arino: And that is why I will do nothing about Ryusei’s plan. Because after every poor choice I have made regarding my children, it is time that I finally let them make their own choices, without the pressure of me.
Strike had nothing to say, only offering a solemn nod. A small, sad smile came to Papa’s face, as he reached out and patted Strike on the shoulder.
Papa Ryoma Arino: You are a good man, Strike-san. Once we’ve finally gotten past this, I hope only happiness awaits you.
Strike nodded.
Chris Strike: And the same to you, Ryoma-san.
The smile on Papas face faded, and he says nothing, only turning and walking away. Strike listens to his footsteps until they recede too much to be heard over the din of conversation in the diner. Leaving Chris Strike alone with his thoughts.
--
He waited.
Ryusei sat by his dead brother, the pistol he’d used to do the deed tossed aside, and he waited.
He cast glances at his brother, hoping for some sign. And every time, it would be the same sight.
He sighed, deeply, and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He tapped a few times, starting a call, and put it to his ear. As he expected, it went to voicemail. That was for the best.
Ryusei Arino: Kiriko. I guess you already know it’s me. I don’t know if you still use this number, or if you’d just ignore this. I just...I’m sorry. For everything you’ve had to go through these past years because of me, I’m sorry. If I had any idea this might’ve happened I...never would have come into your life. You won’t hear from me again. Things are better if I’m gone. I hope you smile again someday. I love you.
With that finished he ends the call and looks at the phone for a moment, at the photo of her he has for her contact entry. He smiles at it for the last time, before pitching the phone over the edge of the roof. He turns to his dead brother, and looks down at him.
Ryusei Arino: ...please.
And then.
A spasm.
A breath.
And Shozo’s eyes opened.
End.
