Response

By Mara

Disclaimer: This story and everything in it is MINE, except Lestat who belongs to Anne Rice! And yes, this may not make a whole lot of sense, but oh well.  Please ask before borrowing.

 

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This is meant to be read only if you have read The Death and Rebirth of Kobayashi Akira. And if you are reading this, then you must be one of only four people, because only you four know the truth. These are just the details of it, the consequences of it, and the explanations for it. Take all I write here with an open mind, even you, Akira-san, if you should unfortunately stumble onto this someday.

First things first: I used to be a very cruel vampire. That’s why I was chosen to be an Elite for the Elders. I would hardly ever just kill my food or targets outright. No, I would play with them, torturing them just to hear them scream or to see them bleed and always for the pain. My heart was colder then ice, my temper hotter then the sun, and my loyalties neutral at best. In short, I was a monster. I still am, but I was the definition of one back then. At any rate, if you have read Akira’s story, then you know the basics; he got most of it right. But first of all, I didn’t run straight away. I hid for a bit and watched him kill me men. Second of all, I did notice and was the only one who noticed him make his “miraculous recovery.” Other then that, everything else fits my version, too, pretty well.

I will pick up at the point where my men and I revealed ourselves. I was able to be out in the daylight with Feria’s special fix, which I used for about a year or so. Anyways, Akira fought hard and wounded one of my men, but in the end we got him. My men knew, without orders, that we needed to kill him quickly and leave. That’s how we worked: move in without a sound, quickly end any resistance, and the silence the target swiftly before disappearing without a trace. But not this time. I stopped them from quickly killing him because I knew what I was supposed to do. Akira’s mother, a 500+ year old vampire with mid 60s appearance, had asked me to kill her still-mortal son to trigger his turning. I refused, not because I was fond of the young man I had known since he was a small child, but because I felt the task was beneath me and my talents. But the Elders assigned me to it when I refused, so I took my men along for the fun of it. At any rate, we caught Akira fairly easily and I told them we were going to play with him first. I knew this delighted my men because they very rarely got this opportunity. We very heavily and joyously beat Akira until he was weak enough to be freed from the grasps of the two ninjas holding him. All six of my men were eager to kill the young and talented samurai, but they didn’t know what I had planned. Again, I had to stop them from killing him quickly so I could enact the spur-of-the-moment plan I had just developed. With Akira on his back and my men holding him, I brought him what I knew he loathed more then anything: shame. And as he stared into my eyes, I grinned sadistically beneath my mask because I got from him exactly what I wanted. I saw the intense fear mixed with burning hatred imprinted on his face, draped with blood and sweat and veiled with a thin layer of disgrace and confusion. And because I was such a monster back then, I felt thrilled and excited inside and the feeling only became heightened when I plunged the sword into his stomach. His screams sent my senses over the edge, so much so that I paused and closed my eyes to enjoy the moment. That feeling was my equivalent to sex; I enjoyed it that much. And as I moved the sword though him, my eyes still closed in rapture, I am sure I nearly had an erection from the pleasure his pain created for me. I wanted to suck the blood from every wound on his dying body and just outright kill him so perhaps I would finally climax, because killing is something that never failed to turn me on. But I remained in control, remembering he must not actually die and that later I could go find Tsung. I removed the sword, feeling just the slightest bit of shock rolling off my men since they had never seen me that violent and happy at once, and wiped the bloody blade on Akira’s pants. He doesn’t remember, but I patted him on the cheek and dragged a couple fingers through the blood covering his chest and stomach before standing back up. I felt satisfied as his head lolled to the side and I let my men raid his stuff or stand around for a little while because I figured he’s be a few hours before turning. But soon, I sensed his movement as he regained a normal breathing pattern, and I knew the exact moment he stood up. However, I couldn’t predict that he was going to grab the one man nearest to him; he was far faster then I anticipated. My men and I were shocked when he came after us. In an effort to keep the rest of them alive, I made them scatter in hopes that only one more might perish in sacrifice to save the rest. True, I probably could have stopped Akira, but at the risk of exposing myself to my men and taking a severe beating from a very angry fledgling vampire. And, since I wasn’t in the mood to expose myself or take a beating, I hid behind a tree, watching Akira kill my men. Three of my men got away, along with me, and after that I decided I had to track them down again. They had seen what Akira turned into and I couldn’t have them spreading word of him, so I killed them. The people in the area already were suspicious of the occasional dead body found with only two puncture wounds on the neck that Akira’s mother or I carelessly left once in a while. After I killed my men, I went back and spied on Akira until his mother came for him. She paused before she got near him, looking directly as where I was hiding, and gave me a nod. Laughing a little, I left for home to gather my things as well, since I knew Akira and his mother would too. I went to Germany to seek the Elders and find out if they had any new assignments for me. They did, so Tsung, Chu (who Akira later replaced), and I spent a lot of time killing traitors, doing special recon work, and purging impurities from out breed and clan. very much like the Third Reich, if you think about it. In fact, the Dotachos helped out Nazi Germany quite a bit… but obviously not enough to win the war. Anyways, during that time, I became calmer and my cruel attitude subsided, only allowed out on missions, and like Akira stated, after some hundred years or so of his turning and about ten years after Chu’s death, the Elders called Tsung and I to them to get our opinions. They had chosen a replacement for Chu and wanted to know if we agreed with their choice. When I found out they had chosen Akira, I was shocked. Balatos smirked at my initial wide-eyed reaction and off-handedly remarked, “Oh yes. He’s the one his mother had you kill, right? Caused a lot of trouble for you, I heard…” Immediately, I lowered my gaze to the floor and said he would make a fine replacement. Tsung, who’s never been fully sane, grinned manically and said something about enjoying the fresh meat. I vowed then to take care of Akira, because I had done him wrong in the years I was a monster. Four months later, Akira became the third of the Elite Three and for ten years we did missions almost non-stop. That really took it’s toll on us; I think we all lost a lot of sanity during that decade. The Elders knew this and after that we were only called on when really needed. Somewhere in those slow years, I met a man who taught me how to manipulate and use my charka as a weapon, and I learned much from him until he died. But that’s another story. Then, at some point, Tsung completely lost it. We were on a mission together – no Akira – and I had refused to kill a child again. Tsung, busy with the other target, cursed at me and told me I had to. I restrained the child to take it out of the room and let her go, but no more. Tsung knew my weakness for children, though, and killed his mortal target quickly, for once, and caught up to me and punched me square in the face. I staggered backwards, frantically trying to heal the crater he’d left in my skull, while he calmly and fluidly reached out and snapped the little girl’s neck. He screamed at me about being weak and unable to de my job and I stared at the dead little girl in horror. I was somewhat frightened of him because I’d never seen him mad at me before. Tsung struck fast, grabbing me tightly around the throat and lifting me off the ground. “You’re not fit to live if you can’t do your job,” he growled at me, “and weak people can’t do their job.” Gasping for air, I tried to pry him off me. “Akira will die after I kill you,” he said. No – I couldn’t let him kill us both. My hands still free, I formed to seals I needed for the jutsu I desired and I melted out of Tsung’s hand and onto the floor. He grew angrier as I did and tried to stomp on me, but I sank into the floorboards and down into the earth, burrowing underground beneath the house and finally outside where I reformed myself. I could still hear him inside, screaming at me that he would find me, and he wouldn’t stop looking for me. I sighed, thankful he didn’t actually know where I lived. But, of course, I was sad. I cared about him deeply, and I knew that the Tsung I had known for so long was gone. I spent the next half a year or more running and hiding from him, until a few months ago when we were invited by Lestat and Feria to their home, where upon Tsung kidnapped Lestat’s son and Akira had to kill him. There’s a part of me that thinks I could have convinced Tsung to stop, to not be crazy, and to be his old self. But, I didn’t get to, and he’s dead now.

So, now you know the details, and why I did it…but how do I feel about it? I used to not feel anything about it; I did what I was ordered to do, if somewhat cruelly, and I know that if I hadn’t that Akira wouldn’t have survived to today. But, as I spend more time with Akira presently and feel the accusations of the ones who know the truth, I begin to finally feel regret and sadness for what I did to him. I messed with fate to keep him around and why? Just so his mother could keep him around? It was a stupid and selfish reason, and I regret ever following the order. But, on the other hand, he would be dead if I had disobeyed. So I don’t really know what to think. I guess at this point I merely with it had at least been someone else to do it, not me. I feel this twinge of guilt every time I look at him. Feelings of sadness mix with feelings of guilt and shame that he wants to know who killed him so bad and it was I all along. I’ve started doing things now to compensate for that guilt pang – like buying him a custom motorcycle. Ah, nothing like buying his happiness and friendship, right? But it doesn’t make me feel better, obviously. So, what now? There is a part of me that wants to tell him and face the consequences instead of tutoring him and pretending to be innocent. But, like others have told me, he shouldn’t know it was me. I don’t want him to know betrayal firsthand, so I will not tell him. All I can do is shove my shame, guilt, and depression deep down inside and go on with eternity. What does my happiness mean if a friend, and consequently his lover, has to suffer?

— Jai Feng