Chapter Text

Chapter 1

"としろうおじさん、運命って何ですか？" ("Toshiro-ojisan, what is fate?")

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Mizuki's steps echoed through the dark, damp halls of the Hashimoto prison, lit only by the candle he held carefully on a tray as he walked. It did not take him long to reach his destination: the cell of Toshiro Yamagami, a famed anima weaponsmith from Kanezaka, currently held captive. For what, Toshiro never told him, though he often spoke of his old life back in Kanezaka. He would tell Mizuki stories about his daughter, his wife, and his early career as a weaponsmith. Toshiro had a way with words; he tales always grounded Mizuki back in reality on hard days when the curse weighed heavy on Mizuki's shoulders.

<"Mizuki-kun, it is much past your curfew,"> Toshiro murmured from a far corner of his cell. Mizuki hated this place. Normally, his meetings with Toshiro occured in the forge where Toshiro made his anima weapons. The air was pure there, with light pouring in from the windows, illuminating the tidy, clean space. Toshiro's cell stood in stark opposition, lacking windows, the stone floor covered in grime, and smelt of rust that crawled up the iron bars. The candle illuminated Toshiro's face, creased with age and worry, as he stept up to the iron bars. <"You should not be here.">

<"I am leaving first thing in the morning,"> Mizuki spoke, his voice calm and even. <"I… have not been able to sleep. I was hoping for some advice before I departed.">

<"What of the guards?"> Toshiro asked, his eyes darting back and forth, scanning the hallway.

<"Dealt with,"> was all Mizuki needed to say.

Toshiro relaxed slightly, but his posture still remained tense. He looked to Mizuki for guidance on what to say, exactly, but Mizuki's mind seemed… elsewhere. <"Mizuki?">

<"Hm? Oh. Sorry,"> Mizuki sighed, sitting down in front of the cell, setting the candle down beside him. <"They're sending me out of the country. Alone. My first solo mission,"> he explained, and Toshiro swore he could see a look of pride dart across Mizuki's face, but it was gone before he could fully process it.

<"You seem excited, Mizuki-kun,"> Toshiro noted, sitting down as well. <"But I sense a heaviness around you. You are burdened with something.">

Mizuki nodded. <"This mission… it may require me to hurt innocent people. It will require me to betray people I befriend. I feel the curse creeping down my back every time I think about it.">

Toshiro was quiet for a moment. He knew Mizuki, deep down, was a good person, no matter how many spirits surrounded his soul. He had trained hard, and whatever mission he had been assigned was sure to be a success. <"I cannot tell you who is innocent or who is guilty, Mizuki. That is a line that is often blurred. But what I can tell you is that I believe whatever choice you make should be one that lets you sleep well at night.">

Mizuki was quiet, lost in thought again. His mind was always elsewhere. It made him a very good getaway driver, Mizuki had told Toshiro once. He could sit for hours, quietly entertained by his own thoughts, while still remaining hyper-vigilant. But finally, Mizuki asked:

<"Toshiro-ojisan, what is fate?">

Toshiro raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by the question. The candle flickered slightly. <"Why the sudden interest, Mizuki-kun?">

<"I've been thinking a lot about my parents lately,"> Mizuki admitted. <"About my father. It was his anniversary last week. He tried so, so hard to break away from his fate, and look what he has to show for it. I don't know what the spirits want. I don't know why I was cursed for the terrible crime of being born. But…"> Mizuki trailed off. <"I don't want to end up like my father. I can live with the curse. But the thought that no matter what I do, no matter how pure I keep my room, how many prayers I recite each day, and how much I spend buying lucky charms each week, it will have no effect. The spirits will keep weighing heavy on my back. I can hear them sometimes, on bad days. I'm not getting better, Toshiro-ojisan.">

The air hung heavy between them. Mizuki, in fear of the stagnant air, pulled out his small flask of purified water, methodically washing his hands, and pulling out his katashiro doll when he was done. <"Sorry, I know it's late, and I—">

<"Don't apologize, Mizuki,"> Toshiro reassured him. <"I don't know what the spirits may be telling you, but I firmly believe that you can live a good, pure life. Whichever kami may be watching surely have taken notice.">

As Toshiro spoke, Mizuki mumbled a prayer under his breath, and the doll between his fingers began to glow with a faint green hue. Then the doll began to crumple in on itself, as if a huge weight were compressing on it from all sides. The doll broke and teared, bleeding the black ink that Mizuki had used to mark it. And then finally, the doll erupted into a small burst of green fire before disappearing.

<"…fate is what you make of it, Mizuki. Some people like to believe that everything they do is predetermined to avoid taking responsibility. Some people like to believe that someone else has already written their lives for them to find comfot. And some people live knowing that every descision they make is their own,"> Tohsiro lifted his gaze to meet Mizuki's eyes. <"Those people live the most fulfilling lives.">

Mizuki thought for a moment, then solemnly nodded. He stood up without a word, picking up the flickering candle. For just a brief moment, Toshiro swore he could see the candle take on a green hue. But he blinked, and it was gone. <"Thank you, Toshiro-ojisan,"> Mizuki bowed, stepping back into the darkness. <"For the advice, and for the kusarigama. Expect letters from me when I get the chance.">

And as Mizuki walked back through the halls of the prison, he heard Toshiro's last words to him echo through the halls:

<"Always make sure to separate yourself from the spirits, Mizuki.">

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Mizuki felt the train's rumble slowly come to a stop as it reached the station. His eyes fluttered opened, and the name of the station slowly passed by the window: Chengdu, China; Home of Wuxing University. Mizuki's assignment. Mizuki quickly grabbed his bags and stepped off the train, putting in his earbuds as he stepped foot into the unfamiliar streets. His student guide was supposed to meet him here, a freshman at Water College named "Wuyang Ye"—

["Kawano Mizuki?"]

Through the crowd, Mizuki saw him. He was on the shorter side (probably around 5'5", three inches shorter than Mizuki himself), but seemed deceptively strong— Mizuki could see the way his muscle toned showed even through a compression shirt and school hoodie. His short black hair was tied back in a bun, and his skin was practically glowing, which complimented his bright smile from ear to ear.

Mizuki couldn't help but be a little bit stunned as one earbud fell out of his ear as he started at the young man, before remembering who he was and quickly bowed. ["Yes. I assume you are—"]

["Ye Wuyang!"] Wuyang chirped, running over and starting to hug Mizuki, but Mizuki stepped back before Wuyang could make physical contact. Force of habit. ["Not a hugger then… that's ok! I'm so excited to finally meet you! We're going to be good roommates, I just know it."]

Wait— roommates? Mizuki hoped his genuine shock was concealed on his face as he quickly recalled his mission briefing. "Befriend the two Overwatch recruits," the Elders had told him. "Anran is the one you should be fearful of— she's in your year. Her younger brother, Wuyang, is her weakness. He's your student guide, so study him carefully." Nowhere was Mizuki told he would be roommates with this guy! What if he didn't keep his room tidy? What if he liked the window closed? Didn't dust the shelves before bed?

Mizuki could feel his chest tighten as he swallowed, trying his best to keep a neutral expression on his face. But Wuyang looked so excited— Mizuki hated to admit it, but it was infectious. He didn't even realize a small smile had forced its way onto his face as he replied:

["I think we're going to be great friends, Wuyang. It's fate."]

Written by a human in Ellipsus.