Project: Gamer Ver. Error, File Not Found
Anime Adjacent Entry: 053
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
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9/7/1993
Katsuhito had needed a brief moment to get things together once Tenchi had turned up with the Ginji boy in tow. Not very much time, just enough to get some tea ready and open a small package of biscuits.
He'd invited the young man over, after all. It was the very least he could do as the host.
As for the young man in question?
Ginji Areru was currently sitting in the main room of Katsuhito's small house on the property adjacent to the shrine he oversaw. It wasn't a large house, really. One decently large sitting room slash kitchenette, two bedrooms, a washroom and a toilet.
Tenchi had elected to stay outside. And Ginji seemed to be fascinated by the various pictures Katsuhito kept on some of the bookcases. Fading pictures of Katsuhito and Airi with their daughter, Kiyone...
Clearing his throat as he turned away from the kitchenette counter with a small tray in his hands, Katsuhito forced himself to keep from diving into those old, painful memories.
No parent should outlive their child...
The Ginji boy had shocked Katsuhito when he first saw him. The American in Areru ran strong, bringing the teen to a whopping one-hundred and seventy-eight centimeters. Tall enough that Katsuhito had to look up to meet the boy's eyes.
Yellow eyes, at that. A color that didn't naturally occur in pureblooded humans.
Not just tall, the boy was wide as well and his hands, rough and calloused, were massive. There was a heftiness to the teen that Katsuhito was sure most would attribute to a diet of sweets and a lifestyle of laziness...
But Katsuhito had known many smiths, lumberjacks and laborers of every stripe throughout his life. And Ginji Areru carried his weight too well, too silently for it to be pure fat. The boy clearly worked, and worked hard.
He had to, to save up the kind of money he'd given to Ginji Daisuke.
Setting down the tray in the middle of the table, Katsuhito took a seat across from the teen. The silence between them was awkward and stifling, broken only by the quiet clinking of porcelain as Katsuhito poured a steaming cup of tea for the both of them.
Areru watched, a blank expression on his face, as Katsuhito blew on his cup before taking a small sip. Then the fool boy picked up his own steaming cup of tea and drank a full mouthful!
Katsuhito prepared himself for... something, a spray of scalding liquid or for the boy to cry out in pain but... nothing happened. Instead, Areru swallowed the scalding hot liquid without a sound of complaint.
"...I'm sure you must be wondering why I've requested a moment of your time," Katsuhito finally said, breaking the curious tension between them.
"I am," Areru agreed before he took another sip of his tea. He didn't say another word, however. Simply allowing Katsuhito to lead unimpeded.
It... did not match what Katsuhito had been expecting. The old man had been expecting a belligerent child, angry and resentful at his abandonment.
And, to be fair, Ginji Areru may yet be that child. But he was clearly in greater control of himself than Katsuhito expected from most Westerners.
"I was approached by your father and step-mother, recently," Katsuhito began to explain. "They were rather confused when they went searching for the Ginji family home and seemed unable to find it."
"...As far as I know, it hasn't moved," Areru said after taking a moment. "It's in the same spot where the current house was built about... what, thirty years ago?"
"Hmm... that does sound about right," Katsuhito agreed. And he knew the house was where Areru claimed it to be. He'd seen it, even if Daisuke and Naru hadn't been able to. "Mold claimed the former house. The sixties were a rather wet decade, I believe."
Japanese construction may have been clever and artistic but wooden homes were still vulnerable to the environment. Japan swung between extreme heat and extreme cold with no shortage of extreme rain, causing the wood to shrink and expand, trapping moisture in all kinds of places where it would become a breeding ground for all different kinds of molds and mushrooms.
Katsuhito set his cup down and looked into Areru's eyes, his gaze intense and focused.
"Young man?" the priest asked. "Are you aware of the dangers you court?"
"...I've had to ask this a lot, recently," Ginji mumbled to himself, just barely loud enough to be heard before he sighed and took a sip of his tea, then continuing at a normal volume. "I'm going to have to ask you to be more specific. I've been rather busy, lately."
Katsuhito frowned at the request. It... implied a number of concerning things.
"Your father mentioned that you may have been able to see the ancient residents of these forests," Katsuhito plainly spoke. "Despite their appearances, young man, they are incredibly volatile and dangerous."
"Of course they are," Ginji agreed without a shred of hesitation. "The spirits are not human. They do not think like humans, either. The various animal spirits are typically the most distilled extremes of their mundane counterparts with the strength to communicate their displeasure."
That... was not inaccurate, Katsuhito supposed.
"They are extremely mercurial," the priest said, attempting to communicate his concerns. "At any time, one you think might be friendly could turn on you with no cause or warning. Your home is swarming with spirits, Ginji. You are not safe."
"I know."
That simple statement, spoken clearly, brought Katsuhito up short.
The old man looked across the table, searching over the boy's face for some kind of clue, some meaning behind such a calm acceptance of the risk with which he chose to live.
Ginji, however... simply looked beyond Katsuhito, gazing at something over the old man's shoulder.
"...I cannot convince you to leave your home," Katsuhito surmised with a shake of his head.
Areru simply nodded. "I'm safer there than I am anywhere else."
...What had the boy seen to think such a thing? What had he been through that he found comfort in turning his home into a den of monsters?
The man in Katsuhito wanted to ask. Wanted to know how the boy had not just survived being left behind at Shinji's direction but had actually thrived in such absence...
But the prince in Yosho knew that asking such questions was beyond his remit. Their current stations were those of a concerned but unrelated elder and a young man in a troubled situation that had not asked for help or intervention.
Perhaps it would be best to switch tracks, then?
"...Were you aware that your grandfather has removed you from the Ginji registry?" Katsuhito asked, moving to an equally burdensome topic.
"...I was not aware of this, no," Areru admitted before he picked up his tea in both hands. "It's... oddly a relief, actually."
"Hoh?" Katsuhito intoned, rather taken aback at that admission. To be relieved at being removed from one's clan? It was...
Katsuhito closed his eyes and hummed flatly.
"I have always been considered a guest of this country, Mister Masaki, despite being born here," Areru calmly explained. "And, when my mother divorced Daisuke, my welcome ran out. I've cared for myself for the last four years without help from any Ginji but myself. I was already removed from the family; I just hadn't known it was official."
The absolute surety that the boy spoke with, the confidence in the face of a situation that Katsuhito knew would break many of their countrymen, it was...
Katsuhito's heart hurt, the pain twisting inside of his chest. He'd buried a number of his own children throughout the years and he couldn't imagine just... tossing any of them away.
"...Still," Katsuhito said before coughing to clear his throat. "Your stepmother is one of my grandchildren. Upon learning of your situation, she was adamant that we bring you into our family. Daisuke's children are her children were her words, I believe."
Instead of the immediate acceptance that Katsuhito was expecting? Areru just favored him with a blank, curious look.
"...I really don't see how that would solve anything," Areru admitted. "Daisuke made his choices, and I'm willing to respect them."
Katsuhito sighed as he finally pinned down Areru's personality. The boy was wary of traps, real or imagined, because he'd already been hurt in the past and he had enough cunning to let people deal with the consequences of their own actions. Worse, he was clever enough to keep his words and actions -respectful- as he watched someone make a fool of themselves.
Seto would adore the boy... and Areru would utterly despise her.
"Very well," Katsuhito said with a sad sigh. "But could I ask you to come and visit come Sunday? Your stepmother will be staying here, along with your half-sister."
"Getting out of that mess in Minato?" Areru half asked, nodding pensively once Katsuhito answered in the affirmative. "I suppose I can try to find the time."
The boy stood up, and Katsuhito did the same. As he was leaving, however, Areru said something rather chilling.
"Hopefully, Daisuke doesn't forget about them the way he did me."
-----
Tenchi followed Daisuke down the stairs from the shrine, trying his hardest to not act like he'd been eavesdropping on the entire conversation.
Ginji Areru... wasn't even a Ginji! Tenchi had never met someone that'd been disowned before!
Not... that he was going to say anything about that. Especially since his grandpa had actually offered to adopt the half-foreigner into the Masaki family.
And Areru had turned it down! It... Tenchi couldn't even imagine that!
"...Masaki?" Areru asked once they were well out of sight of his grandfather's house.
"Uh... yeah?!" Tenchi half-asked, his voice breaking. Areru didn't know he'd been listening, did he?
"How old is your grandfather supposed to be?"
"Uh..." Tenchi pressed a finger to his chin as he looked up, trying to remember. The man was old, and he'd always been old. But... "I don't know. I think he might be in his seventies?"
"Are you sure that was your grandfather?" Areru asked, the odd question hanging heavy in the air.
"...Yeah?" Tenchi asked. "Why wouldn't he be?"
"Because whoever I talked to in there was under a disguise that made them look like an old man." Tenchi blinked in confusion at Areru's statement, his mouth half open as he tried to parse that. "Underneath of it was someone that might've been in their mid-twenties, early-thirties at most."
The half-American breathed deeply and then placed his hands together for a moment-
And then was replaced by a totally different person!
A shorter man stood in Areru's place. One with long, straight black hair, brown eyes that were so light they were almost honey-colored, smooth cheeks and fine, almost delicate cheekbones.
Tenchi stared for a long, long moment as he took in the details-
And then the form shimmered, breaking apart to reveal Areru once again.
"Who was that?" Tenchi asked. "I don't think I've ever seen- Wait! How did you do that?!"
"That was whoever I just met, Masaki. Wearing the form of your grandfather." Areru's answer made sense, in context, but it also didn't make any sense at all! "As for how I did that?"
A smirk spread over Areru's face and his eyes, large and expressive, crinkled halfway shut.
"Practice."
