Chapter 33: Silent Tears

  “There was a phantom living in the wall?!” Shiro exclaimed.

  “You aren’t scolding me for damaging it in the first place?” Ace tapped the tips of his index fingers together. Warmth spread across his face as he glanced at the hole in the wall and then at Shiro.

  “Dante broke it first.” Shiro waved him off and sat down on the bed next to him. “When he was here, he had a couple of vivid dreams and… BAM! Punched a hole through the wall. I tried my best to patch it up, but I’m not much of a scraper guy.”

  “Sorry,” Ace apologised anyway.

  Shiro sighed and tipped his head back to inhale deeply. “It’s not my place to lecture you about seeing something that you should not have. It’s Dante’s memories, not mine,” he said. “But I don’t think he would blame you one bit.”

  “But–”

  “No one knew that there were residues of Dante’s Essence in that wall. The particles probably started small and merged over time,” Shiro reassured him. “And of course, if I were you, I wouldn’t have been able to help myself either. Besides, kid Dante and adult Dante look very different.”

  That snippet unveiled far too much about Dante’s personal history. It was the reason why he grew into the person he was. Ace felt guilty for holding him to such idealistic standards. “I still think I should be the one apologising,” he started.

  “I think he also owes you an apology."

  “Huh?”

  “He did have quite the attitude issue with you, but there is a lot more to the story than you think,” Shiro explained. “I think you deserve to know why Dante is a bit… cold towards you. It will help both of you and me - someone who has been watching from the sidelines and trying to bring you two closer.”

  Taking off his glasses, Shiro tapped the side of his head. “Dante’s story is not mine to tell, but I’ll tell you the reason why he once slept in the same spot that you’re now sleeping in. That would fill in most of the holes in your understanding of him,” he said. “Go on, you can use your ability while it’s cooking in my mind.”

  Shiro’s temple glowed the same shade of plum that Ace saw on his sword when it was first manifested. Ace raised a finger to it. The blue droplets pulled and tugged at Shiro’s Essence, shaping it into a small orb that hovered between his fingers. He then sent the coalescing orbs out, and they slowly took shape.

  “You may have doubts about the reliability of my memory since it took place more than two years ago,” Shiro said. “But I assure you that this one is a hundred per cent accurate.”

  “Really?”

  Shiro turned towards Ace and looked at him with mournful eyes. “On this very night, I saw Dante cry.”

  ***

  The Vision was far more expansive than Ace had anticipated. The two had to shuffle around the room so that they did not obstruct it. It began with a younger Shiro getting into his van frantically. The van sped past present-day Shiro, who watched with pleasant surprise.

  “It’s strange seeing myself like that,” Shiro remarked. “I think I had fewer wrinkles… Let’s just call this version of me Kakoshiro.”

  Ace remained quiet, his eyes fixated on the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.

  The van screeched to a halt outside a pub. He threw the doors open, his eyes darting around. The length of the table ran down beside Ace and Shiro as Kakoshiro strode deeper into the pub. The vision’s long pub table extended beside the real Shiro and Ace, allowing them to follow as Kakoshiro moved deeper inside. There, slumped at the counter, was Dante – unconscious, fingers barely curled around the neck of a bourbon bottle. Compared to Shiro, Dante did not age as much, surprisingly.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Dante-san, it’s me, Shiro!”

  Dante stirred and turned his head. His grip tightened around the bottle, and he grumbled loudly. The pub’s bartender joined in. “Thank goodness you are here,” the bartender said. “He’s been drinking for hours. That’s why I called you. Otherwise, the bouncer would’ve…”

  “Thank you,” Kakoshiro nodded and turned his attention back to Dante, who passed out on the counter once more, his face smacking against the marble top.

  Alcohol was indeed a strange painkiller.

  Kakoshiro fished out his wallet. “What did he get?”

  “Uh… Fifteen shots of vodka, two cups of the Signature, and he just got two bottles of bourbon. All of them were specially warmed up. It was his request.”

  “My wife is going to kill me for this…”

  “She did.”

  Ace turned to Shiro, who had drawn his lips into a tight line. “I had to change out all of Yua’s nappies,” he added. “She did not let me hire a babysitter because of what I spent the money on. But he paid me back, don’t worry.”

  Dante suddenly sat up and turned his head towards Shiro. He peeled an eyelid back with his fingers, his eyeball swivelling in its socket. “Shi...ro?” he drawled, cocking his head to one side.

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  Dante grabbed an empty shot glass and attempted to pour out a serving of bourbon, but ended up spilling it all over the counter. Another bartender shot Shiro a dirty look.

  “Sorry,” said Kakoshiro through gritted teeth. He tried yanking the bottle away, but Dante snatched it and chugged it.

  “Shiro-san, your credit card, please.”

  The Vision lost shape abruptly. There was nothing for Ace to cling to with his technique. “I know that I lost him, but when and how… I don’t remember,” Shiro shrugged. “But I did find him.”

  The Essence lingering in the darkness glowed a brilliant red. Dante’s body slammed down hard on the ground before their feet. He whined while pressing a hand between his legs. “U-Uh… He got beaten up,” present Shiro mumbled.

  Kakoshiro scrambled to put himself between the victim and the assailant. The assailant was another patron, who held out an ice bucket and shook it in front of them. The patron gesticulated wildly at the table behind him, which was covered with vomit.

  Then there was shoving. Kakoshiro flicked his hand and manifested the handle of his katana from his palm. With the other, he pulled it out and slashed the patron’s shoulder with the blade. Ace flinched as the blade nearly nicked the tip of his nose.

  The patron’s arm went limp and hung uselessly by his side, but there was no blood.

  “Sorry! Maybe some acupuncture will help! Get well soon!”

  “I think I dragged him out by his ankles and propped him up against some pillar…” Shiro mumbled, and the Vision reflected just that. “Then he threw up a lot.”

  Dante hunched forward and pressed a hand against his stomach. His lips became pale, and he clenched his jaw as if trying to hold something back. He retched violently into a plastic bag shoved against his mouth, only stopping to gasp for air or cough.

  The scene fizzled out as Kakoshiro threw the bags into a trash can and turned around to face Dante, who was staring at the skies. Dante's eyes were open, and his face was blank; the same expression he wore every day. A pair of black-framed glasses seemed to appear on his face, but they disappeared in the blink of an eye.

  “I-It’sss r-raining.” Tears flowed freely from Dante’s eyes, like a broken string of pearls.

  “No, it’s…” Kakoshiro never managed to finish his sentence. Instead, he gulped and took off the jacket tied around his waist. He flicked it a few times before putting it over Dante’s head. “Yeah, it’s getting heavy, isn’t it?”

  The Vision dissolved for good this time, but not before Dante wrapped his arms around Kakoshiro’s legs.