Burnt letters

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not. -Xenophon

How dare they.

Jiyan’s hands trembled as he reached for the doorknob. It was as stubborn as always, only giving way after he pulled it towards his torso before pushing it upwards.

Wait, your door isn’t locked? It’s just stuck?!

Secret strategy. Don’t tell the others or I’ll be swamped with paperwork in no time.

General, you can’t-

The air smelt musty as he entered, the dust stinging in his eyes as he brushed past some shelves.

How dare they.

The empty office desk stared at him in contempt.

It had never been empty before, always cluttered with various papers and  packages, all marked with ‘high priority’ stickers only to be disregarded for weeks if not instantly discarded.

He had always laughed at the ‘dumb faces’ of the poor messengers who had to return emptyhanded.

Only to deal with each and every matter at hand in the middle of night, of course not without stringing him along.

Jiyan had always complained.

He had always laughed.

His laugh had been beautiful, yet so foreign on his otherwise so tired face.

He should have laughed more.

His eyes were burning as he stepped closer to the table, the subtle burns marks the only reminder of who had been sitting here not even –

Not even…

How many weeks had it been?

Weeks? Months?

He is not dead.

Just away.

No body, so no autopsy report. No confirmation of death.

Jiyan laughed hollowly as he put his hand against the scorch mark, its shape so similar to his own but a bit larger.  

Strong fingers calloused and rough from fighting day for day.

But fighting for what?

An angry sob escaped his throat echoing hollowly in the room which seemed so cold without the little flames dancing around on whatever flammable object there was. They had never actually set something ablaze, but he had always loved to make Jiyan believe that he was about to.

His hands were moving on their own as he rummaged through drawer after drawer to somehow deny what he had been told earlier by some of the Magistrate’s officials.

It was all gone.

They really hadn’t been lying.

Of course they hadn’t. Why should they?

They did not have any right to enter this room and even less touch his belongings!

His sight got blurry, but he didn’t care as he opened the first drawer again, as if he were expecting to see a different result than before.

The second sob sounded strangled as if he were gasping for air. But only dust filled his lungs, burning in his throat just like the ashen rain that had buried him that cursed day when he had tried to look for him.

But had he been looking for him or his remains?

Neither.

After all, hadn’t he abandoned him? The oh so glorious General Jiyan of the Midnight Rangers sacrificing the one person he had sworn to never forsake?

Screaming out in frustration, he slammed the drawers shut and started pacing around the room looking for something, anything these bastards from the Magistrate could have left behind.

And he stumbled across something.

A bag. A bag full of papers.

A blinding rage rushed through his veins as he knelt down and frantically started unpacking everything.

So they had just stuffed all of it in a plastic bag to get rid of it? This was the respect they were paying to him?

How dare they.

But who was he to scorn them?

His eyes  flickered across every paper searching for something. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. Maybe some splattered ink from the many times Jiyan had interrupted him mid-writing to treat his wounds. Maybe some annoyed ‘No.’s when he had been too tired or too irritated to properly read through proposals of whatever origin.

Yet there was nothing, only empty papers, application sheets never to be read again because there was no regiment to applicate to, transfer sheets null and void because their owners were long dead.

A black spot at the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Like a madman, he grabbed the paper, pulling it close to see only five letters.

Jiyan

Another paper. The same thing.

Another one, this time the name was scribbled all over it. With each repetition, the letters grew messier and messier and ultimately there were only ugly black ink scratches until some scorch marks put an end to their misery.

What was this? When did he write this? And why…

Dear Jiyan.

Jiyan froze and stared at the otherwise empty sheet.

Dear?

His heart rang so painfully loud in his ears as he read the words again and again, only to sound more desperate with each further time before he hurled the sheet away as if it was burning him.

Maybe it was. He deserved it. After all, he had sinned.

More and more papers slid through his fingers, all showing similar kinds of greeting phases.

And then the final sheet laid in front of him, its black letters gazing at him like the cruel nothingness of the abyss, ready to devour him.

And Jiyan picked it up.

Dear Jiyan

Jiyan this will be the last

Jiyan I hate

Do you even know how

Jiyan Jiyan Jiyan Jiyan JiyanJiyan JiyanJiyan Jiyan

Fuck this.

Jiyan

You will never read this. Why am I even writing this in the first place?

Jiyan I don’t know what I should say to you when

Tomorrow I’ll be most definitely dead. Tomorrow almost everyone will be dead, I guess. Maybe you too?

Never you. I won’t let it happen. shouldn’t prioritize shouldn’t prioritize

They say people on their deathbed say the stupidest stuff. We both know that this isn’t true. You held more hands listening to strangled gasps of air than even I did.

I told you that’s it’s stupid to show such compassion.

But you never stopped.

And yet, I saw you cry. Some many fucking times. And I hated it.

I’m pretty sure you knew. Or didn’t you? Should I have made myself clearer?

I told you that you’re dumb for wasting your time on people who won’t remember your actions anyways. Because they are dead.

 Idiot.

You looked so angry that day. And I thought I should enjoy that hateful face of yours. But I wasn’t able to.

Do you even know what kind of power you hold over me?

It scares me sometimes. And irritates the fuck outta me.

Because you never listen.

I tell you to stay out of the fight. You follow me anyways.

I tell you to slaughter our enemies, you turn around to save someone who’s not even worth a glance.

I tell to speak your mind, you mindlessly adhere to my every order.

I tell you to obey and you just do whatever your stupidly kind heart wants you to do.

I tell you to hate me and instead you love me love me love me

WHY ME?!

There are moments where I wish we had never met. Where I would be free of these stupid chains your laugh has put on me. Where you would still pose with your ridiculous smile, so kind, so friendly so cute while helping what- or whoever runs into your arms. They didn’t deserve your kindness

Do you really enjoy helping others so much? I don’t understand it. Will they really thank you for it in the end?

Maybe it’s just a me-problem.

Because Jiyan, I know that after tomorrow no one will remember me. Or at least not the way one would hope to. There is no other choice. Tomorrow will be a massacre, just as you said. We will march onward through this cursed rain, we will trample the pile of corpses at our feet and push on.

The Rain is so loud.

Keep barking orders.

I can’t hear my Forte.

Keep fighting until ever last of these monsters is gone.

Why can’t I hear my Forte?

Why can’t I hear my Forte?

Why can’t I hear my Forte?

My soldiers will not succumb to the illusions. I will not allow it.

We will defeat the Ovathrax.

Even if I have to fight him all on my own, even if I have to kill all the Rangers in the process when they are too blind to realize who’s friend or foe. If tens, hundreds, thousands of my men will die… So be it. Victory will be ours. No, not ours. Yours. Because I sure as hell won’t survive this. Hell, I don’t even want to survive this. Because what am I supposed to do after the war?

I have no one.

Do I have you?

I don’t. I shouldn’t.

I really want to. I don’t want anything but victory. Jinzhou will be glorious. But what does it matter?

Oh, you looked so angry today. But you know? I liked it. You showed me your real face for the first time, didn’t you? Tell me Jiyan, do you despise me for the decision I made? Do you hate me for the bloodshed I’ll cause?

I hope so.

Because can you grieve someone who you hate?

Don’t grieve for me, Jiyan. I really don’t deserve need it.

Just live your life. A life without me, a life you should have been living for years.

Jiyan, tell me, if you had the chance to go back to that fated day where we first met… would you decide differently? Would you, knowing who I became or rather who I truly am, go back to your mother and treat patients for the rest of your life?

I hope so. Your hands are way too soft for those of a general anyways.

I really hated that part about you. Such delicate features and an even more delicate heart. How the fuck am I supposed to let you take over with a clean conscience when you can’t even tell me how much I suck to my face? How can I let you lead my people when I see you cry every damn night out there at the training grounds when you believe no one sees you?

You have been hindering me from training there for weeks. It’s so annoying. But I can’t bring myself to chase you away. Pretty pathetic right?

I don’t even like seeing you cry. Actually, I hate it. Because there is this stupid voice in my brain telling me that it’s my fault. It’s not. What am I supposed to do when you can’t do shit without clinging to your absurd kindness? Your idealism makes you blind. And vulnerable.

Oh so vulnerable.

There are times where I would like to rip the wounds open you so desperately try to hide, just to prove my point to you.

Your humanity makes you weak, Jiyan.

But it also makes you so beautiful. And dangerous.

Yes, fucking laugh at me, but you are scaring me. Because when I see you smile so brightly, so full of hope, hope I’ve never had in my entire life, when you grab my hands and pull me along even though I’m always making you sad at the end of the day – Jiyan, do you even know what you’re doing to me?

I’ve been a soldier my whole damn life. A general for almost as long. I do not have any regrets falling in battle. Never had.

But now... Now I sit here and stare at the rain, terrified of the thought that you will sit here in my stead from tomorrow on.

Jiyan, are you ready?

I want to say that you are. Or that ‘the brat will be ready if he needs to’.

But Jiyan, I’ve seen you. I’ve seen your tears, which you try to hide so desperately each time I make my presence clear. Why do you even hide them from me? I caused them.

Be angry with me. Scream at me.

But instead, you just pull me close. Want me to hold you.

WHY?!

Why would you let someone like me hold you? I’m tainting you. My hands are soiled with blood, blood of our enemies, blood of our brothers, and they could be tainted with your blood. How can you not see that? Why aren’t you afraid of me?

…Or are you?

I don’t think I’ll forget the expression you wore today when confronting me about the Retroact Rain. You know, all this time I was around you, my world seemed so vibrant, so loud. Today, it finally quieted down.

I want you to see me for who I really am.

Just a ruthless, cruel general ready to sacrifice anything and anyone to secure victory.

But somehow, I can hear your protest in my ear even while I’m just writing this.

This is absurd.

Jiyan, why do you care so much about me when I have nothing but hurt you these past few years? Just because I mentored you? Or do you admire my strength? Is this why you look so saddened each time you treat my wounds? Because you’re disappointed in me?

Can you explain to me why I’m feeling pissed off by this thought? It shouldn’t matter to me what you think about me. You shouldn’t matter to me at all.

Co-

Comba-

This is stupid. Jiyan is just a

I can’t do this. Am I finally going insane?

Jiyan, I can’t even call you combat medic in this letter, because it feels so fucking wrong.

Is it because we slept together? It was just sex. Did you want it to be more?

I wanted

I wante

I

I want nothing.

Jiyan, I’m tired.

Tired of seeing your face in front of me every single damn night.

Tired of craving to hear my name fall from your lips.

You are the only one to call out my name in all those years. And you don’t even know this. Heh, you will never know this considering I’m about to burn this letter.

It’s better that way.

I never had someone care about me like this until you came into my life. Seeing your hands tremble when trying to stitch the last few parts of my  intact skin together, it made me sick.

Because I had no idea how to deal with it. And it’s the same right now.

I tried to tell me that it’s just juvenile admiration. That you’re proud getting fucked by your general.

But I know you aren’t that kind of person. Why can’t you be that kind of person?! What am I supposed to respond to your  your            your      your. I hate this.

 Honestly, knowing this makes it even worse. I could have dealt with a stupid crush, but your sincerity… it’s making me nauseous. Just thinking about the way you melt into my touch, the way you close your eyes while you’re at my mercy, when I could burn you to fucking cinders at any time I want… I feel like you’re choking me out of the last few intact braincells I have.

Sometimes I wonder if I should just do it. Burn you to ashes. And me along with you. To free us of whatever curse has intertwined our fates and made us lose our minds.

Why do you keep letting me kiss you when you know that these lips will order the death of the very patients you tried to save with every ounce of your strength?

Aren’t you disgusted with yourself?

I don’t understand you. I will never understand you. Because tomorrow everything will be over.

Hah, I wonder if you have even noticed what was happening to me over the span of the last few weeks. I don’t think so or else you would have nagged me to no end.

But dearest personal physician, you’ve been quite blind.

I wonder what you will say if you see the countless burn scars on my body when you’re retrieving it tomorrow.

NOTHING. HE WILL SAY NOTHING!

I will leave nothing behind but ashes.

Need to remember it. Need to remember it

You always admired my Forte for its beauty. I had to try my best to not laugh at you. You know, you were the first one who dared to touch it. To touch me.

But you know what it means to play with the fire, right?

Actually, you did. And you didn’t hesitate. But I did. And you used your chance.

I can feel myself lying in your hands as you carefully shield me from the wind, like the little flame of this candle you once gifted to me. I kept it until now, aren’t you happy-

But this candle has burnt for long enough.

You tried your best, Jiyan.

I did not.

Or else I would have never let you close to me to begin with.

There are so many words going through my mind right now, but none of them seem fitting as a last message. And honestly, why would I even write something like that when I have no one in this world to read it? You should mean are nothing to me.

Jiyan, I have never been scared of death.

Hell, I’m not even sure if I have liked living to begin with.

Shocking, right? Oh, I can see your scandalized expression so clearly in front of my eyes, I’m cracking a grin here.

… I have always enjoyed seeing your expressions. For someone as calm and collected as you, your face is like an open book. I should have maybe told you to do better at concealing your emotions. But I didn’t.

I made so many mistakes when it came to you, Jiyan. 
I’ve never had any regrets and now I’m seeing your smile in my windows, feel your stupidly soft hands on the skin that should be far too scarred to feel anything at all. And my Forte cries. It misses you. Stupid thing, really. Maybe I should have left it with you.

No, scratch that, it burned me again.

No way I’m gonna leave it with you.

I should stop.

Why am I still hesitating?

He’s still in the window.

What would I give for him to knock right now?

No screw that, you made your choice.

And it was the right one. The right one. The right one. THE RIGHT ONE.

Jiyan?

 Is this what the others meant with ‘feeling when the time draws near’?

Overclocking is such a weird feeling. Like something that has always been a part of you slowly claws its way into your veins, making them pulse so much that it feels like your arms about to explode. It claws its way into your lungs, making it hard to breathe without gasping for air after a few seconds.
Everything burns.

Maybe that’s just the nature of my Forte.

Fuck, maybe I should have prayed for a Spectro one.

Praying, huh?

I have never prayed to the Sentinels in my entire life. Why should I when our world looks like this? The Sentinels have never cared for humans.

But you have always believed in them. And if they are really as benevolent as you say, they have to accept this plea, because there is no better fucking human in this entire world than you, Jiyan.

I pray that you will not suffer the same fate as me.

I pray that you will live a happy life.

I pray that you will forget about me.

Jiyan, I’ve asked you whether you would choose differently if we could go back in time. I wish you would answer with ‘Yes’ wholeheartedly, but I know that you wouldn’t. Anyone else would. But not you.

Not you, Jiyan.

Why not you?!

I caused you so much harm, but in the end, you still stay by my side. I ridiculed you for your naivete so many times. But you stayed. You stayed.

I could tell him.

I shouldn’t tell him.

But why not?

Why not?

My Forte convinced me to throw away the last shreds of dignity I have kept until now.  Because this will never see the light of day anyways, so yeah… your lucky day, huh?

Tha- Should I really? Maybe he will…

No. I won’t be alive to watch the next sunset.

I wanted to watch another sunset with him.

Thank you.

Thank you for staying by my side.

Thank you for yelling at me. Because you cared.

Thank you for letting yourself get beat down when I challenged you over and over again because I couldn’t deal with all of this.

Thank you for loving me.

Jiyan, I don’t love you.

I won’t because then we will lose this war, and you will die.

But Jiyan… if I don’t fear death, why are my hands trembling just like yours?

Is this…

Will my death make you wither like those flowers you brought to me day after day when I was bedridden after that battle against the Inferno Rider?

Will you mourn me just like all of those you had to bury after I ordered them to die?

I don’t deserve your tears.

I have never deserved them.

Jiyan, don’t grieve for me. Don’t plant one of those fucking flowers for me.

If you leave a trace of me, what good will it do?

You will miss a person who never loved you to begin with. Who was never able to love you.

You deserve so much more than that. So much more than me. A nice girl just as kind as you, a job where everyone likes you, a cozy apartment just like the ones you told me about (but keep your taxidermy off the kitchen table, I beg you) … a peaceful world.

A world without me.

Maybe my death will bring salvation to you.

Let it bring salvation to you.

And let it bring to me the punishment I deserve for feeling the need to write this in the first place.

General Jiyan.

It has a nice ring to it.