Before I tell you when everything went wrong and the unraveling went into full force, I want you to know that the losing of Ryuzen was not sudden, immediate, not just in one moment, bur rather, excruciatingly slow– like drowning in molasses or bleeding out to death in your sleep.
But, it would be rather cruel of me to throw you overboard into the sea of pain before you see the light that such agony could be born of. You deserve a full explanation, the full gut-wrenching feeling, the full blade twisting in your heart. It's only fair, both to him– that boy, and Miyuki. Although, I don't think I can angle it just right. You could never understand.
It had been let me see– ah yes, now it would be seven years ago, Miyuki seventeen and Ryuzen only seven.
The sky was dark, overcast with not even the moon shining through the thick cloud covering that hung over what seemed to be the world. You had stumbled home far too late, drunk, as you would often be when you came home at this time.
Miyuki had been with Ryuzen, working on his homework, her gentle voice guiding him through the problems that he struggled with.
You, you had been so enraged, "Go to bed! The both of you! This is unacceptable, I wish I had never birthed either of you, all you do is ruin my life!"
This time, I will not try to paint you in a good light. This is not your story, this is his, Ryuzen's, and once you listen, maybe you will finally understand.
Ryuzen curled back into Miyuki who stood tall and proud, deflecting your anger effortlessly.
"Yes, we'll go to bed," She answered calmly, unfazed by your anger.
This only frustrated you more and the two of you would fight for several more minutes.
But, this is not what Ryuzen remembered. He remembered being proud of his sister and watching her stand against you, and he felt relief, that at least somebody could fight your monsters.
Ryuzen remembered when he went back to the room which he had, and Miyuki sitting next to him, holding him gently while he cried. He remembered how she had whispered sweet comforting words. He would not remember what she said, but he would remember the way it rushed over him in a calming wave.
She had kissed him on the forehead and tucked him into bed, her long, shining black hair brushing his nose as she reached over him. And even after all that had happened, he giggled at the tickling of her hair.
Miyuki would smile, before leaving the room to sleep on the floor of the living room on the makeshift bed.
Because of all of this, Ryuzen broke on the 12th of February, seven years later. Both him and I, sharing our body, could never forget the date.
February 12th, 2018.
I can remember my birth, when Ryuzen and I merged into one, where Ryuzen was no longer just Ryuzen, but Ryuzen and Kyoki.
He had received the call while at school.
"We regret to inform you that Miyuki Yamashita has passed."
He and I couldn't recall what happened next, it had happened in flashes, the grief hitting so hard that he didn't have time to register what was happening.
At first, the sudden shock had been so overwhelming that he, I, we, could not react. He had been fading for a long, long time, but this, this was where it all went wrong. He would take in a deep breath, glance upwards, trying to hold back tears, but it didn't work for long.
Collapsing onto the floor, he clutched at the necklace he had strung on his neck, the silver shell one she had given him to remember by. He felt himself breaking into a million pieces, becoming something else. Some pieces had already been blowing off in the wind for years, but this was the one event where the most were lost.
This is when I came into him, this had already long been happening, but this is when he needed the distance, he could not stand staying in his body after the death of his sister, she was all he was. His reality could not be real. The only one that had kept him sane all these years was Miyuki. And with that gone, what would become of him, of me?
He would never forget Miyuki, but everybody around him did, and her soft whispering and late night comforts had been lost, fading into the wind. Mourning, he knew that it was not her time, she was far too young, not having had the opportunity to live the end that she deserved. She had been the closest thing to an angel he, I, have ever met.
I remember coming home, he– I, I don't know which it was anymore.
I don't know who I am, who he is.
Even now, reflecting on it I feel as confused as ever.
For now, we are one and the same, sharing the same not quite corpse, not living, just breathing.
We came home.
Yes, that sounds right.
We.
We came home, and sat at the dining table for hours. We couldn't remember the last time we felt so empty. At this point, we couldn't cry any longer, as all that had made our soul was gone, and without one it was hard to feel.
Staring at that unadorned wall, we regretted never having asked you to put a photo there. We would never see her face again. Never see Miyuki.
This is the point when our entries, our half diary and half warning to you grew erratic, confused. I think that after this point we become less of a we and more of an I.
This is when Ryuzen died.
I held him though, the last piece of him, I kept it with me, almost as if a charm of luck.
But now, this is I.
We are not we, we are I.
I glanced down at the necklace which I still had from her. I could hardly remember her voice.
Somebody had told me long ago to write letters when I get frustrated. I tried writing to Miyuki, I really did. I laid on the floor of my room for too long, trying to write. I had written a whole line.
Miyuki. I don't know how this will get to you– but wherever you are, I really hope you see this. You were the only one who stayed, and I will always remember no matter how hard the others try to forget.
I couldn't bear to write anymore, My tears had already drenched the paper, making it impossible to write. I tore it apart, mad at myself and the world.
That little piece of Ryuzen I kept with me called out for his sister, he couldn't settle in my – our?-- no, my body, without his sister.
Ryuzen could still remember the last thing she said to him, not me we didn't co-exist yet, rather I was just a little voice in his head, "Ryuzen, don't forget to finish your essay."
Both Ryuzen and I mourned the loss, it broke us, remembering what had happened to her.
But no, I must be strong, I am I now, I need to move on. That's what I told myself at least, but I couldn't bear the loss, I spent hours curled up in Miyuki's mattress on the floor, cherishing any last fragment of her I had.
I still remembered looking in the mirror for the first time after her death. But, I couldn't recognize myself. My almond eyes had gone dark, and my hair was dirtied. But, it was beyond the visible difference, I could tell something was just different. I held myself differently than Ryuzen had.
I remember whispering to myself, "You're not him. You never were."
But, I know now that that is all a lie. I wasn't him, yes, but I once was.
I was lost, not knowing what to do. Yelling, I punched the wall.
There was immediate pain as the wall rebounded my own force back at me. But, I didn't stop, I continued to punch it, needing an outlet for my frustration. I remember not knowing where I was, just seeing the old me in front, and I grieved the loss of both Miyuki and Ryuzen.
Only after my knuckles were bloodied did I stop punching the wall. I was not Ryuzen. I was me. I was pure madness, and had chosen a name to embody it, Kyoki, madness. And, I was Akumoto– Aku, evil, and moto, origin. I was madness born of evil, how poetic.
That was the moment I decided that I had fully left Ryuzen behind. I pulled out a marker, and scrawled Kyoki Akumoto, that was the only person I would see in the mirror from now on.
The very next day, I remembered sitting down at that computer at the library which I scratched in that familiar shell pattern. I had begun writing on the computer long before, but this was the first time I wrote with intent to hurt Eiko, not mom, but Eiko.
I typed, each cruel word describing my plan, shaping who I wanted you to see, the broken boy which you made. It had taken me hours, writing for a long, long time.
The following weeks is where my entries went haywire, they felt a sense of discovery. I unleashed all I felt, and that tiny part of Ryuzen inside of me felt too. I told you how your insanity had driven me into exiling Ryuzen from his own body and life and how I became madness in its purest form. I told you the story, piece by piece, so you could find it once I left you behind. The order which I typed was made for you perfect unraveling, the same one which I had been subjected to my whole life.
I grinned, the planned revenge feeling all too good. I made my plan. These entries, yes they would give you a peek into me, and maybe too much. Was it too much? Did I give it away? But no, there wasn't too much. You would still come, no matter how haunting my entries were.
I was counting on that. When you came, I would exact my revenge for Miyuki. She had fallen, and it was unjust for you to still breathe when such an angel had been swept away by such a cruel twist of fate. When you came, I would be ready.
I would take your breath away, end your song, just as abruptly as Miyuki's had.
Ryuzen had protested, I remembered, but I silenced him with thoughts of sweet revenge, all would be right after this one last thing.
Then, I came home. Throughout Ilya's dinner party I planned my escape, my final act for Miyuki. When you collapsed on the couch, I carefully curated the blood, my scream, the low voice, although my own but I was sure you wouldn't recognize.
I slid down the side of the cold gray apartment building, using the rope to assist me.
I felt a little bit of guilt. Had I gone too far? Ryuzen cried out to me from the little spot I had given him. He told me to stop, that I had indeed gone too far, that even his mother couldn't deserve such a thing.
It was too late for such thoughts, what was done was done.
When I landed in the bush, I accidentally left behind Miyuki's necklace. I admit, I had not intended to give it to you, you would never deserve such a thing, but alas, I can always adjust to my accidents, so it was fine, and you would return it to me when you came looking.
After, I had walked through the rain to the library to leave my final broken entry, the final piece of my long brewing plan finally falling into place. All that was left was to wait.
That day, I didn't disappear. I was already gone. That was just the day you finally noticed.