A world without you

Hate is the consequence of fear; we fear something before we hate it; a child who fears noises becomes a man who hates noise - Cyril Connolly

General Geshu Lin was a cold man. Ruthless in battle, merciless in decision-making, feared by friends and foes alike.

As it should be.

He had always been proud of himself for not caring when others, especially a certain kind-hearted individual, had crumbled beneath the cruelties of war.

So why… why was he sitting here, restless and glum, in the middle of the night right at Jinzhou’s outskirts at the very place he had sworn himself to never return to,?

General Geshu Lin didn’t mourn.

General Geshu Lin had never cared about his soldiers as more than mere tools. If he had, they wouldn’t have been able to achieve the victory against the Ovathrax.

He felt his heart clench up in pain as he remembered the battle. An immediate wave of disgust washed over him as soon as he realized what he was doing. Why was he showing such weakness? He had fought ten long years and had never crumbled – he sure as hell wouldn’t start now. Especially not because of…-

Before his mind could flood him with the face he wanted to see the least right now, he tried to distract himself with what he knew best.

Alcohol.

No, he wasn’t a drunkard, even though a certain someone had always claimed so. Or at least he hadn’t been. But in the past few weeks, he had noticed the growing emptiness in his pockets; an eerie absence of money that should have been there.

There were no empty bottles in his room.

At least not in sight.

… There was no one to check under his bed any longer.

Geshu Lin should feel happy at this circumstance, but instead he just tasted bitterness. The rice wine burned his throat.

Jiyan had always hated drinking. Called it ‘alarming self-destructive behavior’ and asked him if he wanted to see a psychologist.

“Hah, self-destructive, my ass…”

Geshu Lin put the cool bottle rim against his lips. His lips burned. They were chapped, traces of his long walks in the desert. He hadn’t given much explanation to the Magistrate for his absence. Why should he? They had never cared for his existence when he had saved their ass, why should they start now?

General Geshu Lin was not to be controlled.

And yet, one person had managed to do so.

Geshu Lin glared at the bottle, before taking an especially big chug. Just to spite him.

He had never been in need of a nagging mother, especially not one younger than him. So many times had he yelled at Jiyan to buzz off, to leave him alone and live his life. Jiyan had always nodded and left him alone. Only to come back the next day, his smile as bright as if nothing had happened. He had stacked the bottles up, right in front of the door before sitting down on the bed with a knowing grin. Geshu Lin had jumped out of the window right in front of him. He would never forget the dumbfounded look on Jiyan’s face.

Hilarious.

Why was he remembering this? These incidents were useless banter, swept away by the war, to be forgotten and buried beneath the ashes of his brothers-in-arms.

Still… he couldn’t help but wonder. Why had Jiyan persisted? Why had he cared about his habits? He shouldn’t have, Geshu Lin told him so several times. But he had insisted anyways. Why for someone like him…

Quickly, he took another chug, but this time, his haste was his downfall. He choked on the wine almost instantly, coughing pathetically in the progress. Usually, by now a cool hand would be placed on his shoulder, a gentle rub on the back. Maybe he would even dare to hold his hair up for him.

“Ah, my hair’s a mess now… y’shouldn’t hold it, Jiy-“

The words got stuck in his throat. His eyes went wide as the cold wave of anger washed over him. He was not allowed to speak this name.

That brat was dead.

Frustrated, he punched his chest, right where already other bruises were waiting for the next punishment. His strike was hard, harder than what most would tolerate. But his body felt numb as ever. Irritated at himself, he gritted himself and struck again.

Nothing.

He scratched his nails over his arm.

Nothing.

He tried again. The blood slowly trickled down his scarred skin. But he neither felt warmth nor wetness. Just pain, endless agonizing and oh so useless pain clawing at his heart like a vulture tearing its prey apart.

A slap echoed through the night. He felt his cheek tingle slightly. It wasn’t much, but he had to deal with it. He knew it was futile anyways.

A punch, a cut, a slap - As if those things could change anything.

They couldn’t. He had tried far worse and the pain still remained.

When he had first met Jiyan, he had seen nothing but a stupid brat, too naïve for reality, too kind-hearted for war – and too honest for his own good. He had disliked him the moment he met him. And how could he not? This spoiled man, hah, no child would be more fitting, was the epitome of ‘sheltered’, a naïve know-it-all who just wanted to play hero.

Or so he had thought.

And then Jiyan had slapped him. In front of his men, all crammed into the infirmary after a particularly rough fight.

Geshu Lin couldn’t even remember why that brat had been so angry. Probably some ‘avoidable’ casualties or something of the kind. Not that it mattered.

Back then, Geshu Lin had been very, very close to turning him into ashes right then and there. He could have done so, quite easily to be precise, because his men sure as hell wouldn’t have dared to rat him out. Bringing back the ashes of a soldier to their families wasn’t uncommon. Geshu Lin had punished others for less.

But strangely enough, that day something had snapped in him. Maybe it had been the fierce gaze in those golden eyes which had usually been nothing but kind and forgiving. This change… it had irked him. Like peeling the sticker from a letter, just to see what’s beneath it. It was the same with Jiyan – from that moment on, Geshu Lin had craved to crawl under his skin. He yearned to dismantle this weird enigma of a man who called himself a combat medic but returned to every new sparring session, whatever injury he might have sustained in the one before.  

It hadn’t made sense.

And somehow, this had made it even more intriguing.

With time, they began spending more and more time together. Sparring, bantering, debating – whatever was needed to get under the man’s skin, Geshu Lin did it. At first, Jiyan had seemed offput by his intense behavior and Geshu Lin had been relieved – this had been expected.  If it had continued like this, everything would have been easy. He would have understood Jiyan and would have gotten bored of him eventually.

It should have continued like this.

Jiyan’s lips pressing against his own hadn’t been part of the plan.

Neither had been the pleasure he had felt when burying himself in the other’s frail body. Or the joy that had made his mind all fuzzy when he elicited those cute sounds out of the otherwise so reserved medic. Sounds no one else had heard. Only him.

Only him.

Geshu Lin’s eyes widened as he felt a familiar dull ache in his lower half. Slowly, he turned to look down at himself, freezing as the self-loathing hit him full-force.

Fuck, he was so pathetic.

 Frantically, he took another chug from the bottle. Or rather tried to. But only air greeted him, until a small droplet hit his chin. It ran down his throat, probably leaving behind a sticky trail. Geshu Lin couldn’t care less.

There was no one left to care.

The world was quiet as he shakily raised the bottle. In the reflection, he could see his face. What had Jiyan seen in this face that made him agree to sleep with him? Geshu Lin knew that he wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t good-looking either, especially not with those hollow cheeks and sunken-in eyes. His personality was an entirely different topic. One Jiyan would have loved to rant about.

He let out a shaky laugh. It was supposed to be a mocking sneer, but it lacked the usual derision – had Jiyan taken it away with him when he left?

He hurled the bottle away with as much force as he could. In the distance he could hear it break on the rocks of the nearby cliff. Shattered, just like the last remaining memories of their shared times.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder what Jiyan would do, if he were in his stead. Would he mourn for him? Maybe even shed a tear? Geshu Lin wasn’t sure what to think about this image. A lover would have been happy about being missed by their significant other.

But Geshu Lin wasn’t a lover.

He had never been.

But he sure as hell wondered if Jiyan had seen him as such. Surely not, right? Geshu Lin had made his point clear. Many, many times, actually. Yes, they had been sleeping together but it was purely physical, nothing more than a few touches between strangers. Yet… sometimes he had seen a weird expression on Jiyan’s face, especially when he had left immediately after they had finished. Jiyan hadn’t said anything, but somehow this look had frightened him. Yes, frightened – the Great General of the Midnight Rangers, not scared of the damn Ovathrax but two golden eyes. How laughable.

Jiyan looked so beautiful when he was lying sprawled all over the bed after taking him so diligently. But that illusion had shattered as soon as he had tried to reach out to him. One time, he had actually been able to grab Geshu Lin’s wrist.

He would never forget the shocked hurt look on Jiyan’s face when he had burned him.

But he should have known. After all, Geshu Lin had warned him. Several times, actually. That brat was either too oblivious or too stubborn to recognize his rejection, too naïve to realize that he was a shitty person and an even shittier lover. No, he had never been that idiot’s lover.

And still Jiyan had continued to play with the fire.

Until it had burned him.

But Geshu Lin wouldn’t let himself get played. No, he was totally fine living in a world without those cursed eyes looking at him with more meaning than anyone had ever done before.

He was totally fine spending the nights training alone – Jiyan hadn’t been a good training partner anyways. He had never once managed to beat him, he had been weak! Even after all his efforts!

He was totally fine getting treated by some other medic. He didn’t look out for a familiar ponytail of teal hair as soon as he waltzed into the infirmary. Three days ago, a Dreadmane had managed to bite down on his leg. He had cauterized the wound, ignoring the voice next to him chiding him for ruining the tissue yet again. What was he going to do? Stop him?! Hah.

Good thing, illusions weren't physical.

He was totally fine with returning to his own quarters at night. And he was definitely not walking by Jiyan’s room every single time even though there was no need to.

…They had tried to remove the furniture yesterday.

Geshu Lin had nearly committed genocide right then and there. In the end, he had loudly proclaimed that he wanted a change of view and moved his office to Jiyan’s room. Of course, only because of the better view from the window.

The night air felt colder than usual on his face. He tried to take a glance at the sky, but it was all blurry. With a shaky sigh he closed his eyes for a moment. His heart trembled as a memory flashed in front of his mind.

Jiyan had loved standing at the open window in his room. He had always worn this small, soft smile while he enjoyed the cool desert breeze at night. It had been the perfect spot for Geshu Lin to hug him from behind, the easiest position to trap him and take him as he liked to.

…His men had offered to move his furniture into his new office. But the moment his chair touched the ground, had disrupted the fragile complexion of this his oh so dull room – he had ordered them to fuck off.

He hadn’t slept in his bed for weeks. But Jiyan’s bed slowly lost its scent, and he didn’t know what to do, what to try so it could just smell like him a little longer and-

The next slap was way harder than the one before and he could just hope that he wouldn’t have to face many of his men tomorrow. Maybe he could claim that he had fallen through one of the many holes in the overworld and had faceplanted into a cave. They weren’t as smart as Jiyan. Jiyan would have just laughed at this, smiled at him warmly before asking him for the real reason. Would Geshu Lin have told him?

He knew the answer was no. It had to be no.

The gourd at his waist was heavier than ever.

Yesterday, he had tried to throw it away. Straight into the river, to be never seen again. Why not? Although there were many dried herbs and various bottles in there, of course only labeled with handwriting unknown to mankind (with one exception), there was no use for them.

The one who knew how to use them was dead.

Geshu Lin should have told his mother that he owned it. So that she had at least one last memory of her beloved son whom she lost way too early. Maybe it would have kept her from taking one too many opioids.

But the gourd was still with him, shimmering in the dim moonlight, after he had freshly cleaned it.

It was a stupid thing, really. Geshu Lin despised it.

And yet his clothes were still a little bit damp at the edges from jumping into the river. The crowd on the bridge had been flabbergasted when they had watched the prestigious General of the Midnight Rangers climb over the railing soaked like a pathetic mutt. And wasn’t he exactly this? A laughable, stupid dog retrieving a beloved stick which held no worth?!

This gourd… meant nothing to him.

It meant nothing to him.

Really… it…

Geshu Lin let out a frustrated groan before he harshly grabbed the box from his waist. Like a starving wanderer in the desert, he pressed the gourd against his forehead. Its surface was cool and smooth.

Just like Jiyan’s skin.

No one heard the sound he made thereafter.

The General of the Midnight Rangers didn’t cry. And he especially didn’t sob.

Not for him. Not for anyone.

Was this the heavenly retribution for all the tears Jiyan shed because of him?

Geshu Lin wasn’t exactly knowledgeable when it came to emotions, but he wasn’t blind either. It hadn’t taken long for Jiyan’s youthful admiration towards him to fade. Instead, it had been replaced by something very, very strange. A mystery, Geshu Lin hadn’t been able to solve until this very day.

He had made Jiyan cry. Not once, twice, no, he couldn’t even count the times he had seen the other man cry. Sometimes in the infirmary, sometimes on the battlefield next to whoever bit the dust that time. Sometimes at the training yard in the earliest morning hours, when he thought that no one would watch him. Geshu Lin always observed his training.

Of course, only to gauge his progress.

Not because…-

No. Their relationship had been nothing more than a General and his very aggravating student. Those shared moments of silence, their late-night talks, the way Jiyan had clung to him… it meant nothing.

He could still feel Jiyan’s fingers, intertwined with his own. They had always been so cold. Just like the rest of the man. Geshu Lin had often wondered if it had been the same way for Jiyan. Had he craved Geshu Lin’s warmth? Was this the reason why he had always sought out his touch, like a moth to the flame?

Geshu Lin had warned him that he would regret desiring him.

But like the dumb, stubborn moth he was, Jiyan had dove straight into the flame.

A wave of nausea washed over him as images of bloodied hands flashed in front of his mind. He had seen Jiyan so many times covered in blood. It had always been those of others. His hands had always bore a striking resemblance to ice cubes… but when he had grabbed them tightly enough, he had always felt his pulse, quick but steady.

These hands had never sat still, had always worked miracles whatever they touched.

He would never forget the way Jiyan’s limp hand had slipped through his fingers.

Of course he had caught it!

Geshu Lin would never let go of his hand.

…But Jiyan did.

“Why…”, he croaked out bitterly as he stared at the meadow in front of him, pungent anger lingering on his tongue, “Why did you do that? Have you lost your mind?”

Jiyan had always prided himself  for being such a rational and quick-minded person. Utter bullshit if you asked Geshu Lin. That brat … rational?

Hah, what a joke.

Any rational person wouldn’t have dared to meet his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Hell, no rational person would have ever joined the Midnight Rangers to begin with! Voluntarily no less! Geshu Lin couldn’t for the life of him understand how a promising young doctor like Jiyan could fall pray to the delusion that he could somehow miraculously defeat the Lament.

“General, you are paving our way. As long as your Forte lights up this world, we will prevail. Haven’t you said so yourself?”

Yes. Yes he had said so, many times to be precise, in these stupid speeches the Magistrate had ordered him to hold. But telling something and believing it was a totally different case. Who in their right mind would believe such idealistic nonsense?! This was war, one against ancient the Gods no less. Of course, Geshu Lin had always claimed that they would win, and deep down he had sworn himself to not perish before taking down at least one of the big enemies. But Jiyan had taken this conviction to a new level. He had admired him as if he were some otherworldly being. Honestly, often he had felt sick at just how infatuated that boy seemed to be with him. At first, he had tried to ignore his sparkling eyes, had shooed him away when he had approached him like a little dog wagging his tail just to get some attention.

When had he grown weak?

He hazily remembered their first kiss. It had been born out of pent-up frustration, unloaded in a heaty spar in the late evening. It had been a particularly hot summer day and Geshu Lin still remembered the sweat he had tasted on his lips.

Geshu Lin had kissed many women in his life, all of them just to blow off some steam. But none of them had tasted like Jiyan.

Until this day, he wasn’t sure how that brat had bewitched him. But that first kiss… it had been the start of an addiction, a shameful act driven purely by lust and not feelings, at least when it came to Geshu Lin. He had hoped that it was the same for Jiyan. That his attempts to seduce him, most of them efficient enough – curse his radiant smile and beautiful body, way too toned for a common doctor— were just driven by teenage hormones. Because who on earth would desire someone like him?

One day, he had asked Jiyan if he was just sleeping with him because it gave him the opportunity to brag that he had slept with his general. He had rarely seen Jiyan this hurt. And the man had dared to ignore him for a full week afterwards.

Until this day, Geshu Lin had no idea why. The question had been a logical one; one which should have immediately been answered with yes. Even if Jiyan had been embarrassed to confess his sick satisfaction he got from getting fucked by his General, surely a shy nod would have been possible, right? And not whatever this sulking had been…

There was no other rational way to explain their nightly encounters. At the beginning, they had been short, fleeting moments, just a quick way to blow off some steam. He hadn’t cared for Jiyan’s pleasure and he had never wanted to. Geshu Lin had always been a realist. His character was far too flawed to be desired. A romantic partner? Hah, what a joke. Someone like him only breathed bloodshed, not the name of another person. Especially not Jiyan’s. That brat… although he detested him more than anything, he couldn’t deny that he was what most would call a perfect partner. Kind, beautiful, witty – just lovely to be around. In another time, people would have scorned Geshu Lin for so much as gazing at someone like Jiyan.

So, the answer as to why Jiyan had indulged him all these times, ignoring the beatings, the derision, the pure vitriol he spewed at him in his worst moments, was obvious.

Geshu Lin had been someone to conquer, a subject Jiyan could proudly brag about that he had tamed. Geshu Lin was sure about it. Even if Jiyan had never admitted it. He didn’t need to. General Geshu Lin didn’t need the confirmation of a lowly combat medic.

At least Geshu Lin had the last laugh. Now that brat couldn’t control him any longer.

Until he did.

Every breath, every blink, Jiyan was in there, watching him calmly from the side as always. When he woke up and looked in the mirror, Jiyan was there and smiled at him. Or he didn’t. These were the worst days.

When he trained, Jiyan’s shadow was waiting for him, fighting against him as if nothing had happened. Until his claymore went through his body and hit the ground hard. He had tried to escape him and of course, he had resorted to the means he knew best— war. But even in battle, it didn’t take more than a minute for Jiyan’s shadow to appear on the sidelines. Most days he was cheering for him. But when he looked at him, that beautiful smile always cracked revealing a bloodied face desperate for the last breaths of air, only to spew out even more blood.

Rarely, there were some good days when the illusion stayed normal. These were the sparse moments of happiness, when he could turn back after battle with his usual, cocky grin to be greeted by an excited ‘General!’ and a smile brighter than the sun to greet him.

Now this sun was gone.

He had burned it to ashes.

But Geshu Lin would never blame himself, no, if he did, he would have long crumbled under the pressure of leading an army through such precarious times.  He wouldn’t wallow in misery, just because he lost one medic.

How many of them had he lost these past few years? Three hundred? Maybe even five?

One more didn’t make a difference.

…Until it did.

Geshu Lin groaned in frustration as he buried his face in his hands.  The images were still haunting him. And those sounds… he was close to shout a prayer at the Sentinels, he had never once prayed to, just to make them stop. His voice, his small gasps of excitement, his laughter bright and free and oh so warm. He called out his name so many times a day. Even at night, he could hear the whispers. Until they turned into anguished wailing. One time he had almost set the base ablaze, just to make it stop.

Would Jiyan laugh at his pitiful state?

At this thought, he expected to feel the usual rage, as always when someone looked down on him, but instead, his heart felt just empty. And there was this weird certainty in him, that Jiyan, his Jiyan, wouldn’t do something like that.

That brat had been far too infatuated with him. Oh, he had been so easy. Just a quick compliment and it could nearly smooth over anything.

Jiyan looked so adorable when Geshu Lin praised him.

Of course, he had used this weakness  to his advantage. He would never let a chance like this slip away. Only by gaining power over people, by controlling them, was he able to achieve his goals. Jiyan was just one of these people. A tool. One discarded for the most honorable reason: his general’s life.

… But this tool had acted on its own. Geshu Lin hadn’t ordered him to sacrifice himself.

And it left a bad taste in his mouth.

He had been the one who had ordered Jiyan to stay with the backline, to protect the ranged fighters and medics. His Forte had been the most suited for this task.

It wasn’t.

From the start, it had been clear that they wouldn’t see each other until the battle was over. Until the Ovathrax was defeated and the world freed from the Lament.

Geshu Lin hadn’t expected to survive this battle.

And frankly, he hadn’t wanted to either. What was a man supposed to do in a peaceful world like this? Everyone was talking about the future, about ‘hopes’ and ‘dreams’. What a load of bullshit. The world was drowning him in happiness, and he could do nothing but wait for his salvation.

Jiyan would have loved to wander Jinzhou’s streets at this day and age. He would have run from stall to stall, pointed to various plants, begging to buy them for further studies. Geshu Lin had never understood why that brat had even asked him for permission in the first place. It was his money and his room.

He was just visiting it from time to time, a guest coming around for business and nothing else.

He had always left before Jiyan had woken up. Sometimes, he had stayed a little longer to cherish the bruises he had left on the other’s pale skin. Occasionally, he had even left a few more, just to make sure that the man remembered who had marked him this way.

But why had this been important in the first place?

But there had been one exception. One, Geshu Lin wasn’t proud of and had tried to banish to the deepest corner of his mind (and failed miserably at doing so)

Just why had he stayed in Jiyan’s room that one night, just shortly before they went up against the Ovathrax.? He had even slept there until the very dawn, something he would never do even when he was on his own, because he was such a light sleeper. Geshu Lin would love to blame his momentary weakness on tiredness. But he knew that this wasn’t the truth. He had held Jiyan in his arms, had pulled him even closer when the man wanted to roll away in his sleep.

‘You’re mine.’ – he had whispered. Such stupid words… If he could travel back in time, he would cut his own tongue to prevent that blunder. He wondered if Jiyan had heard him. The man had seemed to be fast asleep but… if he had, it would explain Jiyan’s incomprehensible action in the Battle Beneath the Crescent.

Even if he tried to trace back the steps, he couldn’t fathom why Jiyan had tried to reach him. His position had been clear. At the backline, far from him. Far from danger.

Safe.

Why hadn’t he been safe?!

What had he done wrong?

The rain had been heavy, creating illusions left and right. It had been impossible to discern friend from foe. Just like Jiyan had anticipated. Fucking smartass.

Geshu Lin had known about this possibility as well. But why hesitate if victory was so close? Plus, there had been enemies approaching them from all sides, their food rations had been almost depleted and-

Why are you trying to find excuses for your decisions?

Aren’t you always certain in your judgement, General?

But… I didn’t decide his death. I placed him far behind any possible danger and-

And he disobeyed you.

He paid the price. As you always said.

Geshu Lin’s hands curled up in his hair, tugging painfully at his matted strands. But all the pain amounted to nothing as the bloodied body of Jiyan flashed in front of his mind again and again. A deep gash at his torso. He had tried to stop the bleeding, had tried to cauterize the wound he himself had inflicted. But there had been no chance of undoing the damage his hands had caused.

His claymore had been Jiyan’s death.

A strangled noise hit his ear, a choked cry, full anguish and despair. It was foreign to him and for a moment he wondered who it stemmed from. Until he felt his vocal cords burn as the sorrowful wail got louder and louder.

Deep breaths.

Just like Jiyan always said.

Deep. Breaths.

Jiyan called out to me. Warned me about an incoming attack from behind.

I turned around and saw a Chasm Guardian. It was reasonable to hurl a fire wave at it. Everyone would have done the same.

I couldn’t have known that it had been an illusion.

I couldn’t have known.

I couldn’t have known.

I’M NOT AT FAULT!

…He didn’t feel guilty. There was neither need nor reason to.

Jiyan chose to join his corps, although he could have just stayed behind Jinzhou’s walls, living his comfy, sheltered life in his mother’s clinic.

Jiyan chose to fight by his side, day after day, even though he was suffering. Even though Geshu Lin had offered him opportunities to leave. Many times. (A luxury he had granted no one else.)

Jiyan chose to refuse all his offers.

Jiyan chose to love him, against all the odds. Against all reason.

Jiyan chose to ignore all his warnings that he was chasing after a dead man.

And Jiyan chose to give his life for a man who wouldn’t thank him for it.

All of this….ALL OF THIS HAD BEEN HIS CHOICES.

He shouldn’t care about what happened. He was neither at fault nor responsible.

It was all on Jiyan.

He was the damn General of the Midnight Rangers! There was no room for such useless feelings.

And yet…

Numbly he stared at the Emortia in his hand.

I chose to plant this flower.

“I hate you…”, Geshu Lin whispered hoarsely as he gently sat the flower down into the small hole he had dug, “…I hate you so fucking much, Jiyan.”