IC Contact

[rassera]

"Oi, it's me. Leave something here, would ya?"

Text | Audio | Video | Action

Comments

Letter

[iamtetsuo]

[At some point, the Tetsuo from Kaneda's time must have gotten access to Kaneda's glove compartment. The next time Kaneda roots around in there - maybe for tools, or a map, or some stray bits of odds and end keepsakes, there's something that he won't remember.

A carefully folded piece of paper, with surprisingly legible handwriting for Tetsuo.

The outside reads: 金田- don't open this until you need to

Unfolded, it's a letter. It's been written, rewritten, and rewritten again in pencil, hastily erased at points. It's not going to win any prizes for composition, or legibility, and not remotely for coherency, but it's quite possibly the most sincerely honest, and heartfelt thing that Tetsuo has ever done... and possibly will ever say.]

[rassera]

[Maybe Kaneda had left something in his bike one night. Boxing tape, a lamp, anything that made him head out to the sidewalk and snap his fingers, the bike sitting there expectantly for its rider. There's nowhere to go, not with Tetsuo and Maya...and Nick and Ikki back to the way they were. Whatever this world had done to them had changed it back, and they were now their same old dysfunctional selves. A bit of a relief in some ways, really.

Tetsuo had gone back to being the grumpy asshole he'd always known him to be, and while it hurt to have to lock up that safe again after a week of letting it fall off his shoulders...he knew it had to be done. Because despite them being from the same timeline, it wasn't this timeline they shared, and he still had business to do with Tetsuo at this point in time. So with a quick approach to his bike, he pivots towards its back wheel, listening to the engine dimly hum in excitement. Unfortunately, there's no destination tonight--just a quick pickup as he glides his hand along the ceramic frame of the back wheel, moving it along the body. Remembering every moment of that week as he reaches the back of the seat.

All he had to do was open the glove compartment, grab the flashlight, and head back in.

His hand pulls it open, digging around busily, not a care in the world. Sure enough, there was his boxing tape, black gloves from Kasumi, a flashlight, his dog whistle, Porter Papers with Tetsuo's name on them, a few bandages from Maya (she said it was 'insurance')...and--]


Huh? What's--

[Kaneda pulls out the folded paper--it was smaller than the Porter papers, and certainly had more bulk to it, so it was easily noticable among the other bits. Funny, he doesn't remember putting this in here. And no one else had access to it.

There's a quick look to the door before grabbing that flashlight, sliding into the seat of his bike and reading the front of it.

金田- don't open this until you need to

Fingers twitch gently against the seams, curiosity already eating away at his stomach. 'Until you need to' is a bit ominous, isn't it? How is he supposed to know when he needs to? What makes something the right moment for that? The truth was, Kaneda was just too curious to really think about it. It would eat away at him for days if he didn't now, and regret for doing something too soon wasn't a consequence he ever considered feeling. With the tiny flashlight on, he unfolds it carefully, ducking his head below the back of the seat to hide himself in his own personal bubble while still maintaining one eye on the door.

He's not sure why he's so secretive about this...but it felt like this was just for him, nonetheless.

The moment he opens it...the moment he sees that first word, he knows who this is from. Something instinctual tells him, with no logic or reason behind it. It's from Tetsuo, without a doubt. Any different handwriting didn't conceal a thing. He knows his brother, and this was his letter. Of course he'd slip something in during their week together...maybe he just didn't expect something like this.

But his eyes read it hungrily anyway, the remnants of the friend from his timeline in written form. Looking at the erase marks and desperately wondering what Tetsuo had said before an eraser was taken to it.

And then he listens. Listens to Tetsuo's letter talk about the dimensions, how many there are, how many he's seen in this world and all the ones they experienced together back home. How finding one specific one through all the timelines and differences is almost impossible. It's almost warming how familiar that sounds, to have someone understand that crossroads. It didn't help solve it--Kaneda still had to repress that memory every day of his life, but still, the weight was infinitely less just reading it.

And then, upon the next sentence, after blinking away what could only be tears of relief, Kaneda reads the next part:

Do you remember? That piece of me used to move you--

It confuses him. Was this supposed to be metaphorical? Tetsuo did tend to try and speak poetically sometimes. He'd say "It's over there" instead of "there." A small joke, he tells himself, as he tucks that in with the rest of the letter. A bunch of symbolic stuff that was Tetsuo playing up--

But I didn't lose it after all. You caught it. It's up to you now to keep it safe for me.

Right there, time could've stopped, but his mind was doing everything but that. Suddenly, memories race through, unlocking every closed door to his mind and flowing freely like a river. Everything. EVERYTHING flowed. The space inbetween dimensions, the white light, the kids voices explaining what he couldn't understand. Kei's voice calling out to him, Neo Tokyo falling right before his eyes. So much light...it was almost blinding and painful at the same time. Something tugging him back to his world before they all closed and separated for good. An entire universe created, and he was at ground zero, the only one who probably survived within its radius.

Because....

The images flash again, an invisible drum beat pulsing through his brain as it flashes through the memories like flashcards, looking for what his subconscious wanted. All the way through the destruction and light...all the way through the deafening sound of silence.

To Kei calling his name as water flowed and everything settled in Tokyo Bay. As the small little ball of light that had guided him out fell into his hands and (as far as Kaneda thought) disappeared. But....no.

Something told him that wasn't true.


His hand goes to his heart, gripping it tightly as it sinks in. The nausea from January, when Pan had killed Tetsuo. They'd shared a psychic connection, so he didn't think it was anything but the shattering of the connection--a phone line cut short. But the nausea had hit before that, as if...

As if a piece of himself had died.


It floors Kaneda right there. Tetsuo's letter, right at that point was very literal. The little piece that Tetsuo had used to save him back in Neo Tokyo...it was inside him now. He had a piece of Tetsuo with him now--no, he'd ALWAYS had it. Ever since that moment back home...ever sinc he'd arrived here. Which meant...it meant that Tetsuo had come with him, even then. He was never alone in this place. And...souls can travel across dimensions, even incomplete. Memories DO stay locked u with you...and they can be accessed...

That hand shoots from his heart to his mouth, covering it to keep himself from giving a soft yell. Those tears were winning the battle, soft streaks forming on his cheeks and dripping lightly off his chin as he continues.

And if he thought he could hold back on those any longer, he is sorely mistaken. The last part is what hits him the most. Tetsuo had never said anything nice about him that didn't come with some sort of insulting aftertaste. It was a feeling left to their childhood, and one Kaneda had more than accepted as they got older. He knew Tetsuo was gentle underneath, and it didn't matter if he was gentle to him any longer, as long as it survived. If it survived, then Kaneda could sleep at night knowing he'd preserved something precious in the shit hole of Neo Tokyo.

You made me remember.


Muffled curses are underneath his hand now. It's all he can do.

You're always going to be important to me, Kaneda.

Dark eyes well up with tears now, whatever was holding them back now broken down as much as the rest of him. One sentence had torn down Kaneda from an unbreakable wall to a sobbing mess. And the worst part is, the letter isn't finished yet.

We'll see each other again, I promise.

And there...among the waterfall of tears and sniffling and reddening cheeks, a smile bursts through. Hope was never a word he would have applied to himself. Sure...confidence, and the determination to see another day. But hope was never in those words. Too long of a life where hope was crushed under a heel with no mercy, only learning to survive by any means necessary left in his vocabulary. But there, for a split second, hope returned to a small boy's heart, now grown big. One sentence.

And only one sentence left.


Thank you for being my friend.

鉄雄

Kaneda can't hold back anymore, the emotion welling up in him is too much to take. Tears fall, and if he didn't fold up the letter that instant, they would've fallen straight on it. Keeping it between two fingers, he buries himself in that coat, legs curling under him and making himself as small as he can in that seat, the flashlight falling to the pavement.

And he cries. He cries so hard he doesn't even recognize his own voice. It's not sad, though...it's the happiest sound he's ever made since he got here. Memories flow with the tears, the weight shedding itself permanently off his shoulders and into the cracks of the blacktop. All the pent up emotion now free, burning tears a salve for scarred skin and everything underneath. Crying never felt so good, to be honest. It was nothing like the night he brought Tetsuo home, when Maya had to support him or else he collapse and never get back up.

Here, it was healing. Better than any Curaga or Diarama. Stronger than any medicine could help with.

There he sits, at least for fifteen more minutes, just him and that letter. Crying. Remembering every word of it. Crying more until hiccups set in. Until his face hurts from contorted muscles.

And when the tears cease, at least for now, he looks back at the letter, eyes wiped with his sleeve and chin resting on his knees. Looking at that stupid signature that was too neat to be his Tetsuo's.]





Thank you. For everything.