Work Text:
Kanade discovered something new while she was loitering around the main door.
It was a small pouch, yet as curiosity tells her to open it, the pouch was filled to the brim with rather large objects. She wondered if the pouch wasn’t as small as she assumed it to be, even when it was extremely light. Eager for answers, she navigated through empty rooms to find her Papa.
The faint sound of crackling fire was her guide to him, who was reading the tabloid silently. She need not speak for him to notice her presence.
“Kanade, darling.”
“Papa, I found something.” Kanade approached her Papa Tetsurou calmly, the excitement in her steps fairly obvious, as she placed the small pouch on his coffee table. “It has things that are larger than the bag.”
“Mm, is that so?” Tetsurou could not tell her that such an incredible invention was his doing, for he was more concerned as to how it got past the mansion’s barrier. “How interesting. Shall we look through its contents, then?”
“Okay!”
One look towards Keiji, the shitsuji, held an order not too tall, and the latter went ahead to check to see if the barrier was compromised. Meanwhile, Kanade was comfortable sitting on the man's lap, opening the pouch and sinking her hand in it.
Just seeing the pouch itself made Tetsurou feel a tinge of nostalgia. The people of the current generation couldn’t replicate the mechanisms surrounding it, and thus prototypes of the original were lost to time. To think that he'd see it again…
His thoughts were disrupted when he heard a soft noise, curious and interested, as Kanade turned to him holding an orb between her palms.
“Papa, is this a toy?” The girl looked at him in inquiry as Tetsurou observed the “toy”.
It was akin to what the mortals call a “snowball”. Within the glass was a miniature model of their village, sitting atop sprinkles of white that will shift when turned upside down.
Eager to demonstrate, Tetsurou guides the girl's hands, to which the latter reacts with enthusiasm. Kanade then asks, “May I play with this?”
“Ever the polite one.” Tetsurou chuckled; Keiji's lessons on manners were beginning to manifest. “Yes, you may. Run along now.”
…
Tetsurou takes another glance at the pouch. Anxiety pokes his skin rather harshly.
“M’lord, the barrier does not seem to be compromised.” Keiji spoke from behind, his voice void of any emotion. “In fact, it would seem that someone had replaced your spell with a stronger one.”
“That should be impossible,” Tetsurou remarked without hesitation. His confidence faltered when the pouch entered his line of vision.
“Must it be another immortal?”
Now, such a prospect was not impossible. He had once heard that immortals such as him were constantly on the move as the mortals of each passing generation have begun stigmatizing those without a life span. As time continues to pass, so did the technologies and magickery of yore. Not even he can blame the village folks for spreading an absurd legend surrounding his abode. But it had worked in hiding his identity to those that will discriminate against his existence regardless.
Tetsurou sighed; if it were another immortal, then how did they know of his barrier spell? It was an uncommon spell, after all. “It must be, but I cannot recall who could do such a feat.” For all of his friends were nothing but a distant memory now.
Yet, at the very back of his mind, instinct tells him that there is someone. Someone just as strong. Just as talented and adventurous as Tetsurou. But he cannot remember, oh, why can't he remember who?
His eyes darted back to the open pouch. He wondered if there would be answers.
The immortal leaned over to take a glance. It was relatively small, yet Tetsurou can easily see that the pouch’s space was utilized to its full capacity. At the same time, it was spacious enough to navigate through its contents with ease. No wonder the child was able to sink her arm into the contraption. It is also no wonder that Tetsurou still remembers its mechanisms without any struggle.
Still, having to remember who owned this particular prototype and failing bothers Tetsurou. He should remember who he had given these pouches to.
Seemingly conscious of the tension surrounding the room, Keiji calmly reminded him. “M’lord, perhaps it is best to let it be for now.”
“No,” Tetsurou remarked, his voice slightly agitated. “I cannot let this slide, whoever that person was, they almost blew our cover.” He cannot admit it, to Keiji and to himself, that he’s more concerned of the past that was already taunting him. “If I had let it be, even for a while, then we may as well risk our safety.”
The shitsuji was aware that his master’s stubbornness was a sore excuse. Yet, he held his mouth shut while the raven proceeded to scour through the contents of the bag. Most of them were useless things, materials that held no sentimental value for Tetsurou, until he felt the rough, flat texture of what eventually was an envelope when he pulled it out the pouch.
In an instant, his curiosity replaced his impatience. His thumbs moved slowly, feeling the small bumps of the folded paper, its creases and rips after being jumbled up inside the small bag. He examined it further, eyes checking every spot for anything that could give him a hint or an answer. All he could see was a small greeting when Tetsurou opened the flap.
To Tetsurou,
the home that I will forever carry.
The penmanship was something that the raven took notice of right away. It bore a sense of familiarity that he was sure that it wasn't something that he had seen in passing.
“Keiji.”
“Kuroo-sama.”
Tetsurou was confused, but he eventually said. “Will you please hand me The Frog Prince?”
He could pick up Keiji’s confusion as well, but his butler did not attempt to question it. “May I remind you that memorizing such a long tale will only result in fumbling over the words?” Keiji mused, placing the book in front of Tetsurou.
“Ah, nothing like that. I just..” His stern gaze softens once more at the words engraved onto the leather cover. “It seems that this book shares an author with this letter.”
“Oh?”
Tetsurou opened the book to a random page, the small letters fading a little bit faster than before, and he put the envelope’s flap just under them. A soft smile formed on his lips as he spoke, “How peculiar. So the author has been here before.”
“If that seems to be the case, then they have left before I arrived.” Keiji suggested another red string to connect the scattered pins. “That was 500 years ago, m’lord.”
“500 years ago… yes, I suppose you're right.”
A mere five centuries, yet he could not seem to remember anything from that time period. Keiji arrived as a shitsuji when his former lord and lover, Koutarou, had died in battle and was sent to Tetsurou with the final wish to take care of him. While he did not wish to accept Keiji’s wish to be the immortal’s butler, Keiji was rather persistent for “it was the least that I could do.”
They've lasted with each other's company in silence until Kanade was found in the woods, nearly five years ago. The current generation was not as enthralled to bear children, and poor Kanade was left alone by the entrance of the woods as an infant, her age merely a few days old. Even if he were to feign ignorance, Tetsurou could not bear leaving the child alone.
But what happened before that? Before Keiji had arrived, before Kanade was found? Was he unfortunate and had gotten into an accident? No, that doesn't seem to be the case, or else he would not remember the fragments of his life that were as ancient as him. Maybe the author, the one who penned this letter in his hands, will offer an answer of what happened.
Tetsurou unfolded the piece of paper, noticing how the ink had just dried recently.
To Tetsurou,
I am glad to see you well and happier than ever before. I would assume that you have moved past what I could not fathom to forget, seeing that you are smiling the widest since I've last seen you. Could you believe it has been that long?
Too long, in fact, that I never had the opportunity to tell you the truth.
I wish to correct my mistakes through this letter. I did not mean to hurt you. I know leaving out of the blue, to the point I even failed to tell you, was very cowardly of me.
I wish I had barged in, as always, and told you that I have come home. I wish I could've confronted your frustration, wish I'd let you spout curses towards me until you've fully expressed the hurt you've accumulated for centuries.
Yet, I couldn't take a step further after realizing you have accepted my absence. Perhaps it is better that way.
After all, I would prefer not to burden you further with my existence.
By the time you are reading this, I am about to embark on another journey across the world. Maybe I am still around, exploring this small continent to see what has changed since 500 years. Maybe the guilt has haunted me enough that I would rather leave to hide myself from your vision.
I wonder, by the time I return in front of your door once more, I have gathered enough courage to ask you for your forgiveness.
So, thank you, Tetsurou. Thank you for fulfilling my wish for you—to find someone deserving of your eternal love. Thank you for trusting me despite my dishonesty.
Thank you for being my greatest love, and I am sorry for everything.
— K.
…
“Keiji,” Tetsurou breathed. “pray tell.”
“What is it, m’lor—? Kuroo-sama?”
The butler was shocked to see tears roll down his master’s cheeks, clutching on the letter too tight that its texture turned brittle. Quick to his senses, Keiji grabbed the handkerchief on his person and offered it to Tetsurou.
“I cannot understand,” Tetsurou admitted silently, eyes downcast, as he realized the ink had spread and the words dissipated into the paper. “There is this warmth that I feel, a sensation so familiar, yet trying to remember it…” he inhaled sharply, “it hurts me so.”
“Is it because of the letter, m’lord?”
The immortal shook his head, his other hand reaching for the folded paper that preserved dried cyclamen petals. His heart began to ache at the sight of them. “These were someone's favorite flowers. I remember studying these so that I'd plant them around the house.”
Tetsurou can imagine that Keiji’s expression remained blank. “Who is that someone that you are referring to, Kuroo-sama?”
“That is exactly the issue,” Tetsurou gritted his teeth. “I cannot remember that person anymore. It…” A shaky exhale escaped his lips. “It pains me.
“His very existence is like a set of colors spread across this canvas. For some reason, I am reminded of someone I hold dear whenever I look around.” Tetsurou holds the fairytale book a little bit closer to his chest. “It is he who wrote Kanade’s favorite tale. He is the reason why our garden is filled with the sweet smell of cyclamens. Yet..”
“Must he be such a cruel person for him to be forgotten by you?”
The immortal looked at Keiji in surprise. In hindsight, his memory had no reason to falter, no matter how irrelevant a piece of information could get. He was unnatural for a reason, blessed with a gift that was equally too cruel, so for his mind to deliberately block someone out entirely…
He had to speak his mind, in turn. “I don't think he is, no. However, he must have done something,” Tetsurou delicately pressed his temple with his index, “for me to forget someone as significant as he.”
“Then, perhaps m’lord, you are longing for his presence.”
…
“I'm unsure, I'm never sure.” Tetsurou avoided Keiji’s knowing gaze. “I just hope you are right.”