Banana Fish/Death Note Crossover, 2020
Title: "Love Letters"
Fandom: Mainly Banana Fish
Characters: Ash, Eiji, Sing, mentions of other BF/DN characters and OCs
Spoilers: All of BF, light spoilers for DN and DN-Bodyverse
Warnings/Rating: References to physical and sexual violence, swearing, R for angst in this section.
Summary: Ash goes prison, but he and Eiji write letters... for decades... and decades...
A/N: This section crosses over into the Death Note--Bodyverse. The Bhagavad Gita quote is via Peter Brook's movie of the Mahabharata. The song is "Lay My Love," Brian Eno.
Teaser: Eiji: "You are my rebirth into a more alive life, and it is pain every day."
Letters 1987-1990 and Author's Notes
Letters 1994-1998
Letters 2003-2004
Letters 2006-2010
Letters 2020
March 30, 2020
Dear Eiji,
If you get this letter--and I'm making damn sure you will--it will be a product of phenomenal wheeling and dealing. It's the first and last one I can send that won't be in some sort of code, so I'm going to lay everything out for you.
You know my handwriting; you know it's me. You've read the rumors about how people killed by Kira have come back to life. And like any sensible human being, you've probably assumed it's a crock, maybe even more so because you wouldn't want false hope that I'm alive, but I am. I came back. It's crazy. Maybe it is God. I just woke up in an alley, naked, bald, spent about a week scraping around after clothes, food, some damn grip on what happened.
Then Blanca (code: Sergei; let's keep it simple) found me. He'd read about the first resurrections and kept an eye out for me coming back. He smuggled me out of the country. We're in Russia now. I'm going to stay with him for a while. I'm shaky. Besides, the old geezer needs someone to look after him. We're supporting some government reform groups here. Illegal but...
I'll write you via an address I wheedled of out of Yut-Lung. In all seriousness, he came through for me. He had no obligation to, but he came through anyway.
I hope you're okay. Shit, you're almost 54. I've lost (gained?) ten years. I'm still 42. (Just turned 42 in terms of technical days alive, but I think I'll just turn 42 again in August.) I always told you you were an old fart.
You probably want to know what it's like being dead. It's nothing. No memory. Like being out on the operating table and not the floating-above way. I'm okay. Blanca did right by me. I'll write soon and send an address to write back. Write with a lot of circumspection, okay? I'm on the lam; so is Blanca. Just follow my lead.
Enclosed is a P.O. Box I set up for you under the name Eiri Tanaka. Do not check it yourself. Once a month, get someone you trust but are not super close to to check it: ex. an old friend of your parents'. They won't be in danger; the only danger is I might get caught if we're careless. Type all letters. Say nothing that identifies you. Use code or fake names for everyone. Right now, letters are more secure than internet contact; maybe in the future, that will change.
I love you. I'm sorry I died on you again.
Ash (Don Smith)
***
April 3, 2020
Dear E,
It's been a long time. How have things been going? Did you and S get back together?
Sergei and I are staying at his wife's friend's niece's farm (long story). It's the first time I've ever lived on a farm; it's kind of peaceful. We often go into town to do consulting, though, so I don't get too isolated. I like working for NGOs; it's the first time in my life I feel like I'm out interacting in the world for good: not just doing damage control, not just reading things and writing people, but really out there creating change. I didn't think Sergei had it in him to do that kind of work, but I guess even tropical paradises get old.
It's strange to be out and about again. That statement is so obvious it's useless, but I don't where to begin. The sky is so big. Did you ever see that Star Trek episode where the guy climbed a mountain and "touched the sky," i.e. he figured out they were living in a hollow, fake planet? I feel like that: not that the sky is fake or I could touch it, but that it's somehow different from everything I believed before.
The sky's so big. The sun's so hot. The moon is... The moon is. I'd forgotten these things existed. Trees. Sometimes I get agoraphobia. Sometimes (a lot) I wake up and have no clue where I am: the bed smells wrong; the wall is wood; it doesn't make any sense. There are chickens. Sometimes I just want to watch them for hours, these big, feathery creatures like modern-day dinosaurs, cooing and scratching around.
And you?
love,
Don
P.S. My Russian is crap. I can't tell you how annoying it is to always have Sergei be able to say everything better than I ever will. But I guess you know...
***
April 30, 2020
Dear Don,
It's so good to hear from you again. Those words don't say it, but what else can I say? At first I told myself it wasn't you. But no one could fake this, and if so, why?
Yes, S and I got back together about two years after his divorce. I moved back to Japan then, so we could be close to his daughter. She lives with us during school holidays. I still do photography and fundraising, and also I coach track and field at local high school. S is still a sociology professor. This all sounds unimportant. It is not unimportant; it's life. But how can I say it? How can I explain ten years?
I'm glad you can see trees and chickens and moon and so on. This is what I always wanted for you. This is my dream come true. This is like God answered my personal prayer. It's miraculous. It's more than everything I could wish. So why aren't I more happy? I guess I can't believe yet. I think I must be dreaming.
It feels like someone comes to my house one day and says my whole family is dead, my friends gone, my money lost and kicks me into the streets and I live there alone begging for a decade, and then this person returns and says, "Hey, it was all a joke. Go home now. A surprise party is waiting." I go home, but I don't believe it. BTW, this "person" is not you. Only the loss and regain is you. I don't feel it yet.
What was it like for you? Not "nothing." I mean after you woke? How did you do?
I love you,
E
***
May 10, 2020
Dear E,
I get that it takes a while for everything to sink in. I'm glad you and S got back together. Man, you two have been together a long time. Guess that means you're good for each other. In all the years we wrote, you almost always sounded happy with him. The only exceptions were when he got married and when he got divorced. I'm glad the family accepts you and lets you be close to his daughter. She's a lucky kid. She must be in high school by now.
You asked what it was like. When I first woke up, I was pretty damn sure someone had dosed me with... you know, like SW. I believed that for a long time, long being relative. It was about four days till Sergei found me. About another week before I started to believe what he was telling me. In the beginning, I was in despair; I don't know how else to put it. I would have killed myself if I'd had a gun. I'm a coward with a knife. Then, gradually it got better.
The weather's nice here. Global warming nice, but nice. The trees are all leafing golden. Robert Frost wrote a poem about that. The green grass is everywhere, except the pastures, where it's mud. I'm looking out over the pasture now. You know, sheep are cute (not like that). I'm on Mars. You wouldn't recognize Sergei if you saw him sitting in the sun with his ice tea. When did he get to be in his 60s?
How was it for you? Were you okay?
Love you too,
Don
***
June 30, 2020
Dear D,
S's daughter will be in high school next year. The other day, we watched Akira (the anime), and she told S his teenage pictures look like Tetsuo: you know, the crazy one. S says he didn't have as much forehead. She has sense of humor like S too.
S's situation is difficult--with you coming back. He's glad you're okay. But he wonders if this changes things for me and him. Or maybe I'm the one who wonders. Obviously, I'll still live with him, but will it hurt him because my heart divides itself?
You asked how it was for me. For a long time, I was very angry. Not about what happened in '10, about '86. At that time, I was just relieved you survived. In '10, it was like all that caught up with you. It's a miracle you didn't die back then. You didn't even call 911; you went to the fucking library. You have always had a half death wish. It was like you did it to yourself, even though you didn't. I was so angry. And then, I got over it. Now I am angry again. "I would have killed myself if I had a gun."
I know this doesn't make sense. I was angry because you were gone. Now, you're back and I'm angry. It's not fair, but you asked.
Don't pay attention to my anger. Whatever I say, please don't go away again.
E.
***
July 15, 2020
Dear E,
Yep, I asked. It was always obvious I'd be trouble for you, from the first time you walked into my place. I tried to shield you. I did keep trying to send you back to Japan, remember? But by then it was too late. I'm sorry. I shouldn't snipe because you answered the question I asked. I'm sorry I put you through this. Please keep on sticking with me, okay?
About S, you can write to me and still be with him. You did it before. Your heart's big enough for both of us. If I showed up on your doorstep it might be different, but it's not likely I'll be leaving Russia any time soon.
I feel like I'm picking up some family of my own here. I hit it off with Yelena, who owns the farm: she's all wide, no-nonsense face and tweed when she's not in the stables. She's 40, divorced, and has a son, Pyotr, who Sergei's putting through college. He's studying sustainable farming. Gawky kid, like the comic relief in a drama from the '50s.
Yesterday, I spent two hours baking in the sun, lying in the grass.
Love you,
D
***
July 30, 2020
Dear D,
Yes, I will stick by you, of course. I can get angry, but I can't imagine letting go again. Letting go was very hard. Sometimes, I would look at the picture I took of you by window at dawn. You were so present in that picture, so full of thoughts, frozen from that instant of life. It would amaze me you were existing, then not existing anymore. I could not understand it. I can't understand it now: this current situation.
I am glad you met new people. I think it has been a long time since you saw women or children. It must feel like part of mankind suddenly exists again. I'm also glad you see sun.
Can I ask, does what happened to you upset your atheism? You said maybe it's God.
love you,
E.
***
August 18, 2020
Dear E,
I'm not an atheist; I'm a scientist (in mindset). And the thing about scientists (nobody gets this) is that we're nakedly open to wonder. Science is full of things no one would ever have imagined. Who'd have thought space is curved or that time could slow down and speed up? When I got on your case for saying Kira was magic, that's because it was bad science. "Magic" is antithetical to science: by definition, it rejects rational analysis. I have no damn clue what happened to me. And I don't think science will figure it out in my lifetime. But I'm actually okay with that.
The hard part is being a decade adrift, not belonging to my own generation. The hard part is hearing you talk about looking at my old photo.
You may not remember, but when we were last corresponding, you wrote about an 18th-century author, Akinari. I've been reading some of his stuff. It's like an autumn mist. Did you read the story about these two guys who fall in love, but one of them is a samurai and has to go off and avenge some people? He vows to return in a year, but he ends up flubbing his revenge and getting put in prison. When he realizes he won't make it back, he kills himself so his spirit can return and keep his vow. But, of course, he can't stay.
love,
D
***
August 30, 2020
Dear D,
That story is called "Chrysanthemum Vow," which is an old symbol of homosexual love. It is a sad story: spirits can only have a few minutes to talk; unlike some, they cannot write letters to each other. Well, in Akinari's, they probably can, but it's difficult, much spiritual energy (^ ^)
You will think I'm "magical," but what happened to you makes me think of God somehow. As you say, the strangeness of the universe is wonderful. "I am thought and absence of thought," says Vishnu. "I have already defeated all these warriors."
You said in a past letter that you think you will be in Russia a long time. Do you think there is any chance you could leave? Maybe that friend who helps with P. O. boxes can help expedite the passport process? Maybe you could visit Japan sometime? Or do you want to stay with Sergei?
My track students lost the championship game, but I'm proud they got to the championship. This seems like it's not very important. I'm still not sure what to say. Is there something you'd like to hear about?
S would like to say something. I enclose his letter.
love you,
E
***
Dear Don,
I just wanted to say I'm glad you're ok, and if you ever want to come visit us, it would be terrific to see you. E thinks it would be awkward, but it would be fine.
We've come a long way, huh? I look at my kid sometimes, and I think about how you and I were living when we were her age, and it scares the fuck out of me. I can't imagine her having to live that life. I can't imagine any kid doing it. How did we do it? How come we're survived?
Keep surviving, okay?
S
***
September 12, 2020
Dear S,
Thanks for your letter. It was good to hear from you. Thanks for the invitation, but I can't make it to Japan right now.
I'm glad the old gang days seem unreal to you. I'm glad you can't imagine your daughter in that world. I can't quite say it's unreal for me, but that awareness of how goddamn young we were? Oh yeah. We were babies. It was unbelievably cruel.
Glad to hear you're still professoring. You'll teach 'em!
D
***
September 12, 2020
Dear E,
"I see relentless variation. I scramble in the dust of the failing nation." That song always made me think of the Bhagavad Gita. But there's always a nation failing, and scrambling...
It gets me when you ask me to come visit you. I wish I could, and I'm glad I can't. I'm not part of your world. Sorry if I sound a bit down: shitty day at work.
You asked if I felt obligated to stay with Sergei--or I think that's what you were asking. I hate Sergei. That is to say, I owe him a lot: not just my current room and board, but a hell of a lot of favors back when, down the training he gave me as a kid. Except that wasn't a favor; it was a job he was hired to do and, man, was he a model employee. I can't count the number of times he told me I was lucky to be that bastard's heir. He told me I should accept it as my best destiny. He told me I should stay.
That's exactly what my old man told me. Just suck it up and put out: it's all good as long as you get the money. And I don't care if he was between a rock and hard place (Sergei); I don't care if he was worried I'd get killed if I ran. You don't say that to a kid. You don't say, "Oh, just let the fat bastards rape you, kid; it's the best meal ticket you'll ever score."
I can't forgive him. I don't consider that a virtue. I know he cares about me in his way. I know he's risked a lot for me. I still can't look into that big, square, smug face without some part of me wanting to carve it right off. I want him to fucking apologize, but he won't because he thinks he was right. That's the thing about Sergei; he always thinks he's right.
You asked what I want to hear about. I want to hear if you're happy? I can't tell.
love,
D
P.S. Never ever use an emoticon again.
***
September 30, 2020
Dear D,
I can't believe I forgot your birthday! Belated ハッピバー (^o^)! Congratulations on having 42nd birthday again! These are not mean feet. On the contrary, I hope feet are very nice. This is my wish for you.
To be more serious, I understand that you can hate Sergei. I am horrified he said such things. I also agree forgiveness is better: it is better for him and you. I hope, for your sake, you can obtain forgiveness someday. Have you asked him if he thinks he is right? Maybe his face just doesn't show it. If you feel such hate, I think you should not live near him.
You ask if I'm happy. It's a funny thing: I was happy, or when I look back, I think I was. My life started to balance. I like my work; I like living with S and his daughter. I visit my sister and nephew.
From your return, balance is gone. I'm often not happy, but please understand that your return is the best thing I can imagine for me. It's right for me in a way... I have no words. It is the best thing, but it's not happy. I think this is like life. Life is full of pain from the time we are born till the time we die. There is some pain almost every day: physical or mental, worry, stress, illness, scary challenge. But how many people say they wish to be dead? How many wish they were not born? You are my rebirth into a more alive life, and it is pain every day.
Do not leave again. I love you,
E
P.S. Are you safe at work? Is it okay?
***
October 8, 2020
Dear E,
Work's pretty good. A pain sometimes, like work always is. But if I can say one thing for Sergei and I me, it's that we're cagey. We make good decisions; they rarely come back to bite us--especially since he's such an old coot now. If he can't be back in his lawn chair by 5 p.m., he's pretty much not going to bother.
It's okay with Sergei. I was writing in a dark moment. I like his company most of the time. Most of the time, I just don't think about the other stuff. And I guess I do feel some sort of obligation to help him out: because he rescued me, but even more because he needs me. He really isn't the guy you remember. He's still sharp as a tack, but he's 66 and kind of heavy. He's not in the best shape for work that can still turn physical. (Remember Kirk having his epic, final action scene before dying in ST: Generations? It's like that.)
Yelena says she can't read Sergei, and that freaks her out because she considers herself a good judge of people. She claims she knew her husband would cheat on her well before he started to. She says got a bead on me, though she (wisely) won't elaborate. Personally, I'm bemused that she finds Sergei hard to figure out. I've always found him easy.
Thanks for all your honesty about where you're coming from. You have a gift for communicating things in the perfect way. You speak English better than I do. Not in terms of grammar: I can't believe you've been speaking English for 40 years or something and still haven't figured out articles. But the current of your expression is perfect. Don't worry you said anything that hurt me. You didn't. Don't worry that I'll go away to avoid hurting you. I won't.
Love you,
Me
***
October 30, 2020
Dear Me (俺),
My last letter was mistaken. I mean, it was only from one angle. I remember a friend once told me people at work say about me, "He is always sad about something." I was sad because you were dead. I don't know why I said I became happy.
You sound better in your last letter, like things are okay. Things are okay here too. The big issue in our house is S's daughter is in a fight with her boyfriend. She says she thought she really liked him, but then she stopped, but he still likes her, and it is very complicated. S let her cut her visit short last weekend so that she could go back to Sendai to talk to her boyfriend.
It's funny that this is such a big drama. When I remember our days in NY (okay, we were a little older--well, not S), we never had such a problem. We occupied our worry with fears of death and conspiracy, etc. We had no time for dating trouble. But this is the mystery of the human heart. Its needs expand to fill its volume. When we fought for our lives, we just thought about that. When you don't have to do that, you think about finding happiness. Happiness is overrated. I said this to S's daughter, but it did not help her stop crying. She is too young a person to understand.
I think it also doesn't help that her mother recently started to date a new man. S's daughter is a little uncertain about him, though he seems nice. Mostly, I think she is jealous that her mother found a nice man and her own love life is not working out.
I asked S what it means that Yelena has a "bead on you." He said it means a deep focus and understanding. It sounds like she likes you.
love you,
Also Me (僕)
***
To: Eiri Tanaka
From: Don Smith
Subject: We've Got Mail
Sent: 13.11.2020, 11:11 p.m.
Dear Eiji,
I've got us a secure mail address. It's not 100%, but it's redirected and pseuded enough that I'm happy with it. You probably guessed that the P.O. box alias was a pretty flimsy attempt disguising our correspondence if anyone had been seriously looking for me. Blanca and I staged my death back in July, which made me a lot more secure. The aliases were really just to give you plausible deniability if anyone got ahold of the letters.
So now we can actually email. Hard to believe it took us till 2020 discover the internet! (For security, though, don't send big files, okay?)
Below is a bit of my handwriting, so you know it's really me.
I hope Ming's doing better. She's at that age where she's way too young to be worried about whether things will work out with her boyfriend, yet probably the age where she'll worry most. I hope Akira's doing well with her guy too. I'm ten years behind there: all I know is you were worried about her when she and Sing got divorced. Hope they're on friendly terms now? Yelena and her ex are only on speaking terms for Pyotr; there's something very Russian about that. Not grudges, but rigidity, pride (in both the good and bad sense).
love you,
Ash
P.S. I'm glad Sing's finally giving you some help with your articles.
[Handwritten]
"A man can be destroyed but not defeated." - E.H.
***
***
Japanese notes: ハッピバー ("happi baa"--"happy birthday")
俺 ("ore"--"I," masculine, informal, a bit coarse); 僕 ("boku"--"I," masculine, a little more formal, not coarse). I thought "boku" was only used by young men, but
sixish kindly did some research and discovered from a native that this is not the case.
Letters 2025-2026
Fandom: Mainly Banana Fish
Characters: Ash, Eiji, Sing, mentions of other BF/DN characters and OCs
Spoilers: All of BF, light spoilers for DN and DN-Bodyverse
Warnings/Rating: References to physical and sexual violence, swearing, R for angst in this section.
Summary: Ash goes prison, but he and Eiji write letters... for decades... and decades...
A/N: This section crosses over into the Death Note--Bodyverse. The Bhagavad Gita quote is via Peter Brook's movie of the Mahabharata. The song is "Lay My Love," Brian Eno.
Teaser: Eiji: "You are my rebirth into a more alive life, and it is pain every day."
Letters 1987-1990 and Author's Notes
Letters 1994-1998
Letters 2003-2004
Letters 2006-2010
Letters 2020
March 30, 2020
Dear Eiji,
If you get this letter--and I'm making damn sure you will--it will be a product of phenomenal wheeling and dealing. It's the first and last one I can send that won't be in some sort of code, so I'm going to lay everything out for you.
You know my handwriting; you know it's me. You've read the rumors about how people killed by Kira have come back to life. And like any sensible human being, you've probably assumed it's a crock, maybe even more so because you wouldn't want false hope that I'm alive, but I am. I came back. It's crazy. Maybe it is God. I just woke up in an alley, naked, bald, spent about a week scraping around after clothes, food, some damn grip on what happened.
Then Blanca (code: Sergei; let's keep it simple) found me. He'd read about the first resurrections and kept an eye out for me coming back. He smuggled me out of the country. We're in Russia now. I'm going to stay with him for a while. I'm shaky. Besides, the old geezer needs someone to look after him. We're supporting some government reform groups here. Illegal but...
I'll write you via an address I wheedled of out of Yut-Lung. In all seriousness, he came through for me. He had no obligation to, but he came through anyway.
I hope you're okay. Shit, you're almost 54. I've lost (gained?) ten years. I'm still 42. (Just turned 42 in terms of technical days alive, but I think I'll just turn 42 again in August.) I always told you you were an old fart.
You probably want to know what it's like being dead. It's nothing. No memory. Like being out on the operating table and not the floating-above way. I'm okay. Blanca did right by me. I'll write soon and send an address to write back. Write with a lot of circumspection, okay? I'm on the lam; so is Blanca. Just follow my lead.
Enclosed is a P.O. Box I set up for you under the name Eiri Tanaka. Do not check it yourself. Once a month, get someone you trust but are not super close to to check it: ex. an old friend of your parents'. They won't be in danger; the only danger is I might get caught if we're careless. Type all letters. Say nothing that identifies you. Use code or fake names for everyone. Right now, letters are more secure than internet contact; maybe in the future, that will change.
I love you. I'm sorry I died on you again.
Ash (Don Smith)
***
April 3, 2020
Dear E,
It's been a long time. How have things been going? Did you and S get back together?
Sergei and I are staying at his wife's friend's niece's farm (long story). It's the first time I've ever lived on a farm; it's kind of peaceful. We often go into town to do consulting, though, so I don't get too isolated. I like working for NGOs; it's the first time in my life I feel like I'm out interacting in the world for good: not just doing damage control, not just reading things and writing people, but really out there creating change. I didn't think Sergei had it in him to do that kind of work, but I guess even tropical paradises get old.
It's strange to be out and about again. That statement is so obvious it's useless, but I don't where to begin. The sky is so big. Did you ever see that Star Trek episode where the guy climbed a mountain and "touched the sky," i.e. he figured out they were living in a hollow, fake planet? I feel like that: not that the sky is fake or I could touch it, but that it's somehow different from everything I believed before.
The sky's so big. The sun's so hot. The moon is... The moon is. I'd forgotten these things existed. Trees. Sometimes I get agoraphobia. Sometimes (a lot) I wake up and have no clue where I am: the bed smells wrong; the wall is wood; it doesn't make any sense. There are chickens. Sometimes I just want to watch them for hours, these big, feathery creatures like modern-day dinosaurs, cooing and scratching around.
And you?
love,
Don
P.S. My Russian is crap. I can't tell you how annoying it is to always have Sergei be able to say everything better than I ever will. But I guess you know...
***
April 30, 2020
Dear Don,
It's so good to hear from you again. Those words don't say it, but what else can I say? At first I told myself it wasn't you. But no one could fake this, and if so, why?
Yes, S and I got back together about two years after his divorce. I moved back to Japan then, so we could be close to his daughter. She lives with us during school holidays. I still do photography and fundraising, and also I coach track and field at local high school. S is still a sociology professor. This all sounds unimportant. It is not unimportant; it's life. But how can I say it? How can I explain ten years?
I'm glad you can see trees and chickens and moon and so on. This is what I always wanted for you. This is my dream come true. This is like God answered my personal prayer. It's miraculous. It's more than everything I could wish. So why aren't I more happy? I guess I can't believe yet. I think I must be dreaming.
It feels like someone comes to my house one day and says my whole family is dead, my friends gone, my money lost and kicks me into the streets and I live there alone begging for a decade, and then this person returns and says, "Hey, it was all a joke. Go home now. A surprise party is waiting." I go home, but I don't believe it. BTW, this "person" is not you. Only the loss and regain is you. I don't feel it yet.
What was it like for you? Not "nothing." I mean after you woke? How did you do?
I love you,
E
***
May 10, 2020
Dear E,
I get that it takes a while for everything to sink in. I'm glad you and S got back together. Man, you two have been together a long time. Guess that means you're good for each other. In all the years we wrote, you almost always sounded happy with him. The only exceptions were when he got married and when he got divorced. I'm glad the family accepts you and lets you be close to his daughter. She's a lucky kid. She must be in high school by now.
You asked what it was like. When I first woke up, I was pretty damn sure someone had dosed me with... you know, like SW. I believed that for a long time, long being relative. It was about four days till Sergei found me. About another week before I started to believe what he was telling me. In the beginning, I was in despair; I don't know how else to put it. I would have killed myself if I'd had a gun. I'm a coward with a knife. Then, gradually it got better.
The weather's nice here. Global warming nice, but nice. The trees are all leafing golden. Robert Frost wrote a poem about that. The green grass is everywhere, except the pastures, where it's mud. I'm looking out over the pasture now. You know, sheep are cute (not like that). I'm on Mars. You wouldn't recognize Sergei if you saw him sitting in the sun with his ice tea. When did he get to be in his 60s?
How was it for you? Were you okay?
Love you too,
Don
***
June 30, 2020
Dear D,
S's daughter will be in high school next year. The other day, we watched Akira (the anime), and she told S his teenage pictures look like Tetsuo: you know, the crazy one. S says he didn't have as much forehead. She has sense of humor like S too.
S's situation is difficult--with you coming back. He's glad you're okay. But he wonders if this changes things for me and him. Or maybe I'm the one who wonders. Obviously, I'll still live with him, but will it hurt him because my heart divides itself?
You asked how it was for me. For a long time, I was very angry. Not about what happened in '10, about '86. At that time, I was just relieved you survived. In '10, it was like all that caught up with you. It's a miracle you didn't die back then. You didn't even call 911; you went to the fucking library. You have always had a half death wish. It was like you did it to yourself, even though you didn't. I was so angry. And then, I got over it. Now I am angry again. "I would have killed myself if I had a gun."
I know this doesn't make sense. I was angry because you were gone. Now, you're back and I'm angry. It's not fair, but you asked.
Don't pay attention to my anger. Whatever I say, please don't go away again.
E.
***
July 15, 2020
Dear E,
Yep, I asked. It was always obvious I'd be trouble for you, from the first time you walked into my place. I tried to shield you. I did keep trying to send you back to Japan, remember? But by then it was too late. I'm sorry. I shouldn't snipe because you answered the question I asked. I'm sorry I put you through this. Please keep on sticking with me, okay?
About S, you can write to me and still be with him. You did it before. Your heart's big enough for both of us. If I showed up on your doorstep it might be different, but it's not likely I'll be leaving Russia any time soon.
I feel like I'm picking up some family of my own here. I hit it off with Yelena, who owns the farm: she's all wide, no-nonsense face and tweed when she's not in the stables. She's 40, divorced, and has a son, Pyotr, who Sergei's putting through college. He's studying sustainable farming. Gawky kid, like the comic relief in a drama from the '50s.
Yesterday, I spent two hours baking in the sun, lying in the grass.
Love you,
D
***
July 30, 2020
Dear D,
Yes, I will stick by you, of course. I can get angry, but I can't imagine letting go again. Letting go was very hard. Sometimes, I would look at the picture I took of you by window at dawn. You were so present in that picture, so full of thoughts, frozen from that instant of life. It would amaze me you were existing, then not existing anymore. I could not understand it. I can't understand it now: this current situation.
I am glad you met new people. I think it has been a long time since you saw women or children. It must feel like part of mankind suddenly exists again. I'm also glad you see sun.
Can I ask, does what happened to you upset your atheism? You said maybe it's God.
love you,
E.
***
August 18, 2020
Dear E,
I'm not an atheist; I'm a scientist (in mindset). And the thing about scientists (nobody gets this) is that we're nakedly open to wonder. Science is full of things no one would ever have imagined. Who'd have thought space is curved or that time could slow down and speed up? When I got on your case for saying Kira was magic, that's because it was bad science. "Magic" is antithetical to science: by definition, it rejects rational analysis. I have no damn clue what happened to me. And I don't think science will figure it out in my lifetime. But I'm actually okay with that.
The hard part is being a decade adrift, not belonging to my own generation. The hard part is hearing you talk about looking at my old photo.
You may not remember, but when we were last corresponding, you wrote about an 18th-century author, Akinari. I've been reading some of his stuff. It's like an autumn mist. Did you read the story about these two guys who fall in love, but one of them is a samurai and has to go off and avenge some people? He vows to return in a year, but he ends up flubbing his revenge and getting put in prison. When he realizes he won't make it back, he kills himself so his spirit can return and keep his vow. But, of course, he can't stay.
love,
D
***
August 30, 2020
Dear D,
That story is called "Chrysanthemum Vow," which is an old symbol of homosexual love. It is a sad story: spirits can only have a few minutes to talk; unlike some, they cannot write letters to each other. Well, in Akinari's, they probably can, but it's difficult, much spiritual energy (^ ^)
You will think I'm "magical," but what happened to you makes me think of God somehow. As you say, the strangeness of the universe is wonderful. "I am thought and absence of thought," says Vishnu. "I have already defeated all these warriors."
You said in a past letter that you think you will be in Russia a long time. Do you think there is any chance you could leave? Maybe that friend who helps with P. O. boxes can help expedite the passport process? Maybe you could visit Japan sometime? Or do you want to stay with Sergei?
My track students lost the championship game, but I'm proud they got to the championship. This seems like it's not very important. I'm still not sure what to say. Is there something you'd like to hear about?
S would like to say something. I enclose his letter.
love you,
E
***
Dear Don,
I just wanted to say I'm glad you're ok, and if you ever want to come visit us, it would be terrific to see you. E thinks it would be awkward, but it would be fine.
We've come a long way, huh? I look at my kid sometimes, and I think about how you and I were living when we were her age, and it scares the fuck out of me. I can't imagine her having to live that life. I can't imagine any kid doing it. How did we do it? How come we're survived?
Keep surviving, okay?
S
***
September 12, 2020
Dear S,
Thanks for your letter. It was good to hear from you. Thanks for the invitation, but I can't make it to Japan right now.
I'm glad the old gang days seem unreal to you. I'm glad you can't imagine your daughter in that world. I can't quite say it's unreal for me, but that awareness of how goddamn young we were? Oh yeah. We were babies. It was unbelievably cruel.
Glad to hear you're still professoring. You'll teach 'em!
D
***
September 12, 2020
Dear E,
"I see relentless variation. I scramble in the dust of the failing nation." That song always made me think of the Bhagavad Gita. But there's always a nation failing, and scrambling...
It gets me when you ask me to come visit you. I wish I could, and I'm glad I can't. I'm not part of your world. Sorry if I sound a bit down: shitty day at work.
You asked if I felt obligated to stay with Sergei--or I think that's what you were asking. I hate Sergei. That is to say, I owe him a lot: not just my current room and board, but a hell of a lot of favors back when, down the training he gave me as a kid. Except that wasn't a favor; it was a job he was hired to do and, man, was he a model employee. I can't count the number of times he told me I was lucky to be that bastard's heir. He told me I should accept it as my best destiny. He told me I should stay.
That's exactly what my old man told me. Just suck it up and put out: it's all good as long as you get the money. And I don't care if he was between a rock and hard place (Sergei); I don't care if he was worried I'd get killed if I ran. You don't say that to a kid. You don't say, "Oh, just let the fat bastards rape you, kid; it's the best meal ticket you'll ever score."
I can't forgive him. I don't consider that a virtue. I know he cares about me in his way. I know he's risked a lot for me. I still can't look into that big, square, smug face without some part of me wanting to carve it right off. I want him to fucking apologize, but he won't because he thinks he was right. That's the thing about Sergei; he always thinks he's right.
You asked what I want to hear about. I want to hear if you're happy? I can't tell.
love,
D
P.S. Never ever use an emoticon again.
***
September 30, 2020
Dear D,
I can't believe I forgot your birthday! Belated ハッピバー (^o^)! Congratulations on having 42nd birthday again! These are not mean feet. On the contrary, I hope feet are very nice. This is my wish for you.
To be more serious, I understand that you can hate Sergei. I am horrified he said such things. I also agree forgiveness is better: it is better for him and you. I hope, for your sake, you can obtain forgiveness someday. Have you asked him if he thinks he is right? Maybe his face just doesn't show it. If you feel such hate, I think you should not live near him.
You ask if I'm happy. It's a funny thing: I was happy, or when I look back, I think I was. My life started to balance. I like my work; I like living with S and his daughter. I visit my sister and nephew.
From your return, balance is gone. I'm often not happy, but please understand that your return is the best thing I can imagine for me. It's right for me in a way... I have no words. It is the best thing, but it's not happy. I think this is like life. Life is full of pain from the time we are born till the time we die. There is some pain almost every day: physical or mental, worry, stress, illness, scary challenge. But how many people say they wish to be dead? How many wish they were not born? You are my rebirth into a more alive life, and it is pain every day.
Do not leave again. I love you,
E
P.S. Are you safe at work? Is it okay?
***
October 8, 2020
Dear E,
Work's pretty good. A pain sometimes, like work always is. But if I can say one thing for Sergei and I me, it's that we're cagey. We make good decisions; they rarely come back to bite us--especially since he's such an old coot now. If he can't be back in his lawn chair by 5 p.m., he's pretty much not going to bother.
It's okay with Sergei. I was writing in a dark moment. I like his company most of the time. Most of the time, I just don't think about the other stuff. And I guess I do feel some sort of obligation to help him out: because he rescued me, but even more because he needs me. He really isn't the guy you remember. He's still sharp as a tack, but he's 66 and kind of heavy. He's not in the best shape for work that can still turn physical. (Remember Kirk having his epic, final action scene before dying in ST: Generations? It's like that.)
Yelena says she can't read Sergei, and that freaks her out because she considers herself a good judge of people. She claims she knew her husband would cheat on her well before he started to. She says got a bead on me, though she (wisely) won't elaborate. Personally, I'm bemused that she finds Sergei hard to figure out. I've always found him easy.
Thanks for all your honesty about where you're coming from. You have a gift for communicating things in the perfect way. You speak English better than I do. Not in terms of grammar: I can't believe you've been speaking English for 40 years or something and still haven't figured out articles. But the current of your expression is perfect. Don't worry you said anything that hurt me. You didn't. Don't worry that I'll go away to avoid hurting you. I won't.
Love you,
Me
***
October 30, 2020
Dear Me (俺),
My last letter was mistaken. I mean, it was only from one angle. I remember a friend once told me people at work say about me, "He is always sad about something." I was sad because you were dead. I don't know why I said I became happy.
You sound better in your last letter, like things are okay. Things are okay here too. The big issue in our house is S's daughter is in a fight with her boyfriend. She says she thought she really liked him, but then she stopped, but he still likes her, and it is very complicated. S let her cut her visit short last weekend so that she could go back to Sendai to talk to her boyfriend.
It's funny that this is such a big drama. When I remember our days in NY (okay, we were a little older--well, not S), we never had such a problem. We occupied our worry with fears of death and conspiracy, etc. We had no time for dating trouble. But this is the mystery of the human heart. Its needs expand to fill its volume. When we fought for our lives, we just thought about that. When you don't have to do that, you think about finding happiness. Happiness is overrated. I said this to S's daughter, but it did not help her stop crying. She is too young a person to understand.
I think it also doesn't help that her mother recently started to date a new man. S's daughter is a little uncertain about him, though he seems nice. Mostly, I think she is jealous that her mother found a nice man and her own love life is not working out.
I asked S what it means that Yelena has a "bead on you." He said it means a deep focus and understanding. It sounds like she likes you.
love you,
Also Me (僕)
***
To: Eiri Tanaka
From: Don Smith
Subject: We've Got Mail
Sent: 13.11.2020, 11:11 p.m.
Dear Eiji,
I've got us a secure mail address. It's not 100%, but it's redirected and pseuded enough that I'm happy with it. You probably guessed that the P.O. box alias was a pretty flimsy attempt disguising our correspondence if anyone had been seriously looking for me. Blanca and I staged my death back in July, which made me a lot more secure. The aliases were really just to give you plausible deniability if anyone got ahold of the letters.
So now we can actually email. Hard to believe it took us till 2020 discover the internet! (For security, though, don't send big files, okay?)
Below is a bit of my handwriting, so you know it's really me.
I hope Ming's doing better. She's at that age where she's way too young to be worried about whether things will work out with her boyfriend, yet probably the age where she'll worry most. I hope Akira's doing well with her guy too. I'm ten years behind there: all I know is you were worried about her when she and Sing got divorced. Hope they're on friendly terms now? Yelena and her ex are only on speaking terms for Pyotr; there's something very Russian about that. Not grudges, but rigidity, pride (in both the good and bad sense).
love you,
Ash
P.S. I'm glad Sing's finally giving you some help with your articles.
[Handwritten]
"A man can be destroyed but not defeated." - E.H.
***
***
Japanese notes: ハッピバー ("happi baa"--"happy birthday")
俺 ("ore"--"I," masculine, informal, a bit coarse); 僕 ("boku"--"I," masculine, a little more formal, not coarse). I thought "boku" was only used by young men, but
sixish kindly did some research and discovered from a native that this is not the case.
Letters 2025-2026