[February 6] [Konjiki no Gash Bell] Past and Pending
Title: Past and Pending
Day/Theme: February 6th, The spell that cannot be broken
Series: Konjiki no Gash Bell
Characters: Kiyomaro, Gash
Rating: PG, with very mild cussin'
Spoilers: Mangaverse -- Chapter 280 with specific references to chapters 213-215, chapter 276, and chapter 280.
Thanks to Imbrium, who really only had ten minutes but still managed to get this into some sort of shape. All errors still belong to me and thus all the pointy-sticking.
---
He hasn't given much thought to the future.
He's a genius, which means he has enough intelligence to know he won't always have the answers.
For instance, he doesn't know the meaning of life. Why his mother always insisted on serving natto on Wednesdays (even if he nor Gash will eat it) is another. Finding an unified field theory fits in there somewhere, he's sure.
And understanding why a parallel world would send its children to do battle, to hurt and maim, to kill or be killed -- that's still a big one.
He can add a new question to that list now: what he wants to be when he grows up.
At first glance, it's simple enough assignment. For most of his fellow students, their third year will be a time of hurried studying, of cramming, and of sheer unmitigated hell. The high school entrance exams loom ever closer; they will have to fill in the little circles to determine their life's work.
For him, sheer unmitigated hell takes a rather different, more literal meaning. The battles are becoming harder. The next year will decide the future -- not of his own life, but the lives of an entire world.
He knows this much; if he survives the coming year, he'll never want for a job. Already at the tender age of fourteen, he has connections the world over. Professors and presidents, pop stars and soldiers -- they know his name. Perhaps, in time, kings will too.
He excels at physics (quantum, nuclear, and otherwise), maths (calculus, theoretical, and otherwise), and mechanics (engineering, robotics -- though he's hasn't quite figured out the mechanics of sex yet). He's pretty good in anthropology. He hasn't encountered a language yet that he cannot solve.
If he survives, his future is bright.
But it seems rather pointless to write anything right now.
"Unuuu! Ki-yo-ma-ro! How much longer are you going to stare at that paper?" a quick kick to the back of his chair makes him turn in annoyance.
"Shut up!"
Gash kicks his chair again. The demon child sprawls belly down on the floor, idly tapping his little box toy against the wooden slats. The chopstick arms and legs sway, almost hypnotically.
"Is it hard?" Gash wrinkles up his nose. Pushing off against the floor, he comes for a closer look. "It must be really, really hard."
Kiyomaro scowls at the paper, then vents his frustration by swatting the nearest blonde head. "It'd be easier if I wasn't interrupted all the time!"
"Owww! Kiyomarooooo!" Gash protests as he clutches his head. "Maybe if you weren't so mean, I'd help. Maybe if you'd tell me, I'd help. Maybe."
As he speaks, Gash edges a little closer, keeping a close eye in case Kiyomaro swats him again. He grasps the corner of Kiyomaro's desk. Little feet raise up onto tiptoes to peer at the paper. A big sigh follows. "I can't read it."
"Stupid. Why do you want to?!"
"Cause I want to help!" Gash insists. "Even if you are mean."
"Well, you can't," Kiyomaro tries to push him away. But maybe it's the look that Gash gives him, half kicked puppy and all stubbornness, because he finds himself saying aloud, "it's about what I want to be in the future."
"Be a kind king!" Gash immediately declares.
"That's what you want to be," Kiyomaro reminds him. "This is about me."
"What ... Kiyomaro wants to be?" Gash blinks. He rocks back on his heels, one hand coming up to his mouth in thought. "In the future?"
Kiyomaro nearly laughs at the puzzlement on Gash's face. Apparently, the little demon has never given much thought to what his bookkeeper might do once the whole thousand year battle was over.
"Hero of justice!" Gash blurts out suddenly, brightening.
"No."
"A super idol like Megumi-dono?"
"No."
"A singer like Folgore?"
"Hell no!"
Arms crossed, Gash paces in a tight circle.
"Unuuuuu," he mumbles. Beside him, Vulcan has fallen over in a rather dramatic fashion, chopsticks akimbo.
Kiyomaro pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't need your help. Go back and play. I'll make up some bullshit."
"No." Gash shakes his head. "No. You are not going to do that."
"Gash?"
"I am going to help," Gash comes to a stop before Kiyomaro. His shoulders are straight and when he looks up, there's nothing of the playfulness or innocence that normally clouds the bright golden eyes. They're clear. And sharp.
"Gash, knock it off."
"Unu! But I can't. It's my first promise. Before the kind king one." Gash says, and his fist comes to rest at chest level. "My first promise was to help Kiyomaro. And to be a good friend, the best friend ever ..."
The golden eyes waver. "I didn't always do a good job." Both his hands drop and curl around at the edges of his blue cloak. "Especially when you don't let me help. It was really bad then. So I'm not ever going to let you tell me not to look or to turn away when you need help. Not ever again."
Kiyomaro scratches the back of his head. He doesn't have to ask. The name, Faud, lingers unspoken between them. He hadn't thought much of the future then. Or since.
Perhaps that's the problem.
"My promise was to help you become a kind king," he says. "That's the most important thing. The rest of this," he points to the paper, "is just crap."
"No! You have to know what you're going do in the future! Now!" Gash insists. "Otherwise, if you don't know, how am I going keep my first promise? And if I can't keep it, how I am I going to become a kind king? A good king cannot break his promises, right? So I can't be a king 'til I keep my very first promise."
"But I can't know what I'm going to do until I help you ..." Kiyomaro pauses. Gash won't understand the concept of Catch-22. And he's not going to drop the topic any time soon, not if Kiyomaro has read his expression correctly.
Slowly, Kiyomaro stands and his hands strays to the ever present red book.
He thinks of his fellow students, each of them (well, perhaps with the exception of Kaneyama and Iwashima and Yamanaka) pondering over their own fates and writing it out in 1000 words, no more no less. He thinks of his fellow bookkeepers, the presidents and the pop stars and the professors and the mechanics -- all of them under the same sky.
All of them either knowing (or thinking they knew) what they wanted to be or already doing what they wanted to do.
Gash stares at him, unblinking.
"Lay off it already," Kiyomaro grumbles, unable to hold Gash's gaze.
"Kiyomaro --" Gash seems to be deep in thought; one hand is curled in a fist underneath his chin. "If I become king before you decide ... then I'm can tell you what you're going to be! It's going to be my first order as king!"
"Wh-what?!" Kiyomaro blinks. Out of all the answers, he didn't expect Gash to come up with this one.
"Unu!" Gash nods decisively. "I'll tell you what to be!"
"You can't just order me to --"
Can he do that? Kiyomaro wonders. Even if he becomes king of the Makkai, Gash wouldn't technically have rule over the human world. However, visions of super idols and pop singers still dance through Kiyomaro's head anyway. "I am not ... hell no!"
Gash stares at him, eyes shining.
"Whatever it is, NO!"
"You are going to be --," Gash said slowly.
"No!"
"My friend," he said softly. Kiyomaro has to stop himself from rolling his eyes and snorting. It's just so stereotypically bright and cheerful of his demon partner to answer like that. However, since he knows Gash means every word, he concentrates instead on fighting the warm fuzzy feeling it inspires.
"But more than anything ... more than anything ever," continues Gash, "You will have a future, Kiyomaro. You will. A good one. The best."
There isn't a promise in the words. There's nothing warm or fuzzy. Gash means it as a statement of cold fact and his words hold as much power as the spells in his book -- perhaps more. Perhaps it's Gash's own spell for Kiyomaro, fueled by the demon's own emotion and unwavering belief.
And spoken in the voice of a king.
"Because ... never, ever again. I never want to see Kiyomaro without a future again. And Kiyomaro ... you have to see that too."
And once more, that word -- unspoken -- remains between them. And though Kiyomaro is a genius, he feels, at this moment, that Gash perhaps is far more wise than he.
"You have to be there, in the future, even after I become King. So you better start thinking about what you're gonna do, right?"
Kiyomaro doesn't know quite how to reply -- there is no defense or offense against this -- Gash at his most powerful.
"Gash ... you ..." Defeated, he just itches the side of his face.
"Promise, Kiyomaro! You have to see that you have a future."
"Gash ..." Kiyomaro sighs. "Yeah, fine. Okay? I know I have a future. Happy now?
"Unuu. Yes. And Kiyomaro should be too!" Gash says. He plops back on the floor, secure in his own answer.
"Gash!" But strangely, he does find himself a little more settled.
Kiyomaro turns back to his desk, pulls out the chair, and stares at the blank paper. He still doesn't have a real answer. But a small smile crosses his face and he lifts his pen to begin write.
In the future, I would like to be a hero of justice.
It's not going to earn him full marks. But it's a start.
After all, Kiyomaro is a genius. And his future is waiting.
-owari
AN: I wrote this about two hours ago, got it betaed ten minutes ago, and am trying to sneak it in before it turns twelve. I usually don't have such a quick turnaround time, and trust me, I'm deeeefinitely rethinking this posting within hours of writing a story thing. It's scary as heck!! But I really wanted to post under this theme, so, here goes nothing.
On the bright side, I'm not sure anyone is actually reading this. It's the pitfalls of having a really really small fandom with no one scanlating the most recent manga stuff. But less people to embarrass one's self in front of is good! ;)
For the record, while I'm not sure I'm liking where the manga is going at the moment, I really like the parallels that Raiku-sensei draws between Kiyomaro's life and the beginning of the new battle ... both he and Gash are in that threshold space between what they were before and who they're going to have to be. I just hope they'll deal with the past problems first though. *has faith*
And I also wish Kiyomaro would show a little more sense of self preservation (the lack of wanting to even think about his own future sorta bugs me) ... or he's just going to end up dead again T___T. Eh well.
-muri
Day/Theme: February 6th, The spell that cannot be broken
Series: Konjiki no Gash Bell
Characters: Kiyomaro, Gash
Rating: PG, with very mild cussin'
Spoilers: Mangaverse -- Chapter 280 with specific references to chapters 213-215, chapter 276, and chapter 280.
Thanks to Imbrium, who really only had ten minutes but still managed to get this into some sort of shape. All errors still belong to me and thus all the pointy-sticking.
---
He hasn't given much thought to the future.
He's a genius, which means he has enough intelligence to know he won't always have the answers.
For instance, he doesn't know the meaning of life. Why his mother always insisted on serving natto on Wednesdays (even if he nor Gash will eat it) is another. Finding an unified field theory fits in there somewhere, he's sure.
And understanding why a parallel world would send its children to do battle, to hurt and maim, to kill or be killed -- that's still a big one.
He can add a new question to that list now: what he wants to be when he grows up.
At first glance, it's simple enough assignment. For most of his fellow students, their third year will be a time of hurried studying, of cramming, and of sheer unmitigated hell. The high school entrance exams loom ever closer; they will have to fill in the little circles to determine their life's work.
For him, sheer unmitigated hell takes a rather different, more literal meaning. The battles are becoming harder. The next year will decide the future -- not of his own life, but the lives of an entire world.
He knows this much; if he survives the coming year, he'll never want for a job. Already at the tender age of fourteen, he has connections the world over. Professors and presidents, pop stars and soldiers -- they know his name. Perhaps, in time, kings will too.
He excels at physics (quantum, nuclear, and otherwise), maths (calculus, theoretical, and otherwise), and mechanics (engineering, robotics -- though he's hasn't quite figured out the mechanics of sex yet). He's pretty good in anthropology. He hasn't encountered a language yet that he cannot solve.
If he survives, his future is bright.
But it seems rather pointless to write anything right now.
"Unuuu! Ki-yo-ma-ro! How much longer are you going to stare at that paper?" a quick kick to the back of his chair makes him turn in annoyance.
"Shut up!"
Gash kicks his chair again. The demon child sprawls belly down on the floor, idly tapping his little box toy against the wooden slats. The chopstick arms and legs sway, almost hypnotically.
"Is it hard?" Gash wrinkles up his nose. Pushing off against the floor, he comes for a closer look. "It must be really, really hard."
Kiyomaro scowls at the paper, then vents his frustration by swatting the nearest blonde head. "It'd be easier if I wasn't interrupted all the time!"
"Owww! Kiyomarooooo!" Gash protests as he clutches his head. "Maybe if you weren't so mean, I'd help. Maybe if you'd tell me, I'd help. Maybe."
As he speaks, Gash edges a little closer, keeping a close eye in case Kiyomaro swats him again. He grasps the corner of Kiyomaro's desk. Little feet raise up onto tiptoes to peer at the paper. A big sigh follows. "I can't read it."
"Stupid. Why do you want to?!"
"Cause I want to help!" Gash insists. "Even if you are mean."
"Well, you can't," Kiyomaro tries to push him away. But maybe it's the look that Gash gives him, half kicked puppy and all stubbornness, because he finds himself saying aloud, "it's about what I want to be in the future."
"Be a kind king!" Gash immediately declares.
"That's what you want to be," Kiyomaro reminds him. "This is about me."
"What ... Kiyomaro wants to be?" Gash blinks. He rocks back on his heels, one hand coming up to his mouth in thought. "In the future?"
Kiyomaro nearly laughs at the puzzlement on Gash's face. Apparently, the little demon has never given much thought to what his bookkeeper might do once the whole thousand year battle was over.
"Hero of justice!" Gash blurts out suddenly, brightening.
"No."
"A super idol like Megumi-dono?"
"No."
"A singer like Folgore?"
"Hell no!"
Arms crossed, Gash paces in a tight circle.
"Unuuuuu," he mumbles. Beside him, Vulcan has fallen over in a rather dramatic fashion, chopsticks akimbo.
Kiyomaro pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't need your help. Go back and play. I'll make up some bullshit."
"No." Gash shakes his head. "No. You are not going to do that."
"Gash?"
"I am going to help," Gash comes to a stop before Kiyomaro. His shoulders are straight and when he looks up, there's nothing of the playfulness or innocence that normally clouds the bright golden eyes. They're clear. And sharp.
"Gash, knock it off."
"Unu! But I can't. It's my first promise. Before the kind king one." Gash says, and his fist comes to rest at chest level. "My first promise was to help Kiyomaro. And to be a good friend, the best friend ever ..."
The golden eyes waver. "I didn't always do a good job." Both his hands drop and curl around at the edges of his blue cloak. "Especially when you don't let me help. It was really bad then. So I'm not ever going to let you tell me not to look or to turn away when you need help. Not ever again."
Kiyomaro scratches the back of his head. He doesn't have to ask. The name, Faud, lingers unspoken between them. He hadn't thought much of the future then. Or since.
Perhaps that's the problem.
"My promise was to help you become a kind king," he says. "That's the most important thing. The rest of this," he points to the paper, "is just crap."
"No! You have to know what you're going do in the future! Now!" Gash insists. "Otherwise, if you don't know, how am I going keep my first promise? And if I can't keep it, how I am I going to become a kind king? A good king cannot break his promises, right? So I can't be a king 'til I keep my very first promise."
"But I can't know what I'm going to do until I help you ..." Kiyomaro pauses. Gash won't understand the concept of Catch-22. And he's not going to drop the topic any time soon, not if Kiyomaro has read his expression correctly.
Slowly, Kiyomaro stands and his hands strays to the ever present red book.
He thinks of his fellow students, each of them (well, perhaps with the exception of Kaneyama and Iwashima and Yamanaka) pondering over their own fates and writing it out in 1000 words, no more no less. He thinks of his fellow bookkeepers, the presidents and the pop stars and the professors and the mechanics -- all of them under the same sky.
All of them either knowing (or thinking they knew) what they wanted to be or already doing what they wanted to do.
Gash stares at him, unblinking.
"Lay off it already," Kiyomaro grumbles, unable to hold Gash's gaze.
"Kiyomaro --" Gash seems to be deep in thought; one hand is curled in a fist underneath his chin. "If I become king before you decide ... then I'm can tell you what you're going to be! It's going to be my first order as king!"
"Wh-what?!" Kiyomaro blinks. Out of all the answers, he didn't expect Gash to come up with this one.
"Unu!" Gash nods decisively. "I'll tell you what to be!"
"You can't just order me to --"
Can he do that? Kiyomaro wonders. Even if he becomes king of the Makkai, Gash wouldn't technically have rule over the human world. However, visions of super idols and pop singers still dance through Kiyomaro's head anyway. "I am not ... hell no!"
Gash stares at him, eyes shining.
"Whatever it is, NO!"
"You are going to be --," Gash said slowly.
"No!"
"My friend," he said softly. Kiyomaro has to stop himself from rolling his eyes and snorting. It's just so stereotypically bright and cheerful of his demon partner to answer like that. However, since he knows Gash means every word, he concentrates instead on fighting the warm fuzzy feeling it inspires.
"But more than anything ... more than anything ever," continues Gash, "You will have a future, Kiyomaro. You will. A good one. The best."
There isn't a promise in the words. There's nothing warm or fuzzy. Gash means it as a statement of cold fact and his words hold as much power as the spells in his book -- perhaps more. Perhaps it's Gash's own spell for Kiyomaro, fueled by the demon's own emotion and unwavering belief.
And spoken in the voice of a king.
"Because ... never, ever again. I never want to see Kiyomaro without a future again. And Kiyomaro ... you have to see that too."
And once more, that word -- unspoken -- remains between them. And though Kiyomaro is a genius, he feels, at this moment, that Gash perhaps is far more wise than he.
"You have to be there, in the future, even after I become King. So you better start thinking about what you're gonna do, right?"
Kiyomaro doesn't know quite how to reply -- there is no defense or offense against this -- Gash at his most powerful.
"Gash ... you ..." Defeated, he just itches the side of his face.
"Promise, Kiyomaro! You have to see that you have a future."
"Gash ..." Kiyomaro sighs. "Yeah, fine. Okay? I know I have a future. Happy now?
"Unuu. Yes. And Kiyomaro should be too!" Gash says. He plops back on the floor, secure in his own answer.
"Gash!" But strangely, he does find himself a little more settled.
Kiyomaro turns back to his desk, pulls out the chair, and stares at the blank paper. He still doesn't have a real answer. But a small smile crosses his face and he lifts his pen to begin write.
In the future, I would like to be a hero of justice.
It's not going to earn him full marks. But it's a start.
After all, Kiyomaro is a genius. And his future is waiting.
-owari
AN: I wrote this about two hours ago, got it betaed ten minutes ago, and am trying to sneak it in before it turns twelve. I usually don't have such a quick turnaround time, and trust me, I'm deeeefinitely rethinking this posting within hours of writing a story thing. It's scary as heck!! But I really wanted to post under this theme, so, here goes nothing.
On the bright side, I'm not sure anyone is actually reading this. It's the pitfalls of having a really really small fandom with no one scanlating the most recent manga stuff. But less people to embarrass one's self in front of is good! ;)
For the record, while I'm not sure I'm liking where the manga is going at the moment, I really like the parallels that Raiku-sensei draws between Kiyomaro's life and the beginning of the new battle ... both he and Gash are in that threshold space between what they were before and who they're going to have to be. I just hope they'll deal with the past problems first though. *has faith*
And I also wish Kiyomaro would show a little more sense of self preservation (the lack of wanting to even think about his own future sorta bugs me) ... or he's just going to end up dead again T___T. Eh well.
-muri