Bullet Kisses

I can’t say I enjoyed my early childhood. There was too much sadness. I lost my parents at age four, was sent around between cold, abusive relatives for two years until I was dropped and finally landed in an overpopulated, undernourished orphanage.

There I worked for my stay, washing grimy dishes in greasy water after every meal, until my hands were nearly permanently wrinkled. By then I’d given up any hope of being adopted and brought into a loving home. I became withdrawn and bitter with the world, angry with my parents for dying and leaving me, and scarred by my family’s hands. The people at the orphanage thought there was something wrong in my head because of deep silence…and maybe that’s true because I was ready to die. Nine years old and I wished death would decide to lift me up on its black wings and carry me away.

But then he arrived, claiming to be my older brother, River. He looked like my dad…he was tall like him with light hair and murky brown eyes. He had my mother’s warm smile, too. Of course it could’ve just been a coincidence because I couldn’t remember my parents ever mentioning an older brother, but they didn’t care. Glad to get rid of me, they sent me away with this strange man without a second thought.

At first I was nervous. Living with this man I’d never met before. But River was nice. River was sweet. River was my brother.

We lived in a small house on the outskirts of the city with it’s outsides painted a fading, chipping blue and its inside’s rooms each painted a different color. He worked every day as a journalist in the center of the city, leaving early, coming into my room where I was snuggled tightly in my warm bed.

“Have a good day,” he’d say, smoothing my dark hair back form my forehead and lightly kissing me between my eyebrows. “Stay out of trouble, all right, Toshi? I’ll try my hardest to be back for lunch.” And so of course he always came home at noon, eating the meal I’d make (which was normally grilled cheese or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with strawberries on the side because that was all I knew how to make) and complimenting me graciously. Afterward we’d do the dishes together, our hands getting white and soapy and red, splashing each other good-naturedly. Then he’d leave me again for work, coming back just in time for dinner, which he’d make and we’d eat by the light of candles on the living room floor. After that we’d talk or play board games until I’d be too tired to keep my eyes open and he’d carry me to my room, lay me down to sleep, and kiss me on the cheek.

During that time I was so happy…unexplainably, undeniably, incomparably glad that this man had found me and decided to love me when no one else had.

And now I should add onto this…this love. I’m sure my parents had loved each other and my aunts and uncles had loved each other, their spouses. And brothers and sisters love each other…but differently. I knew that much by then. I knew the love of a husband and wife was so different and so much more pure than that of siblings… But I still felt the deep love of lovers for River, my idol, my brother, my sibling, my guilty lust.

I didn’t know how to tell him this because I was pretty sure this type of thinking and feeling was not right…but I needed to get it off my chest. I needed to know if he felt the same way, if he thought of me when he couldn’t sleep at night, if he constantly wondered what I was thinking like I did him.

I needed to know if River loved me.

But how could I find out? If I asked outright, it would present the possibility of rejection or anger or disgust. I didn’t want that. I just wanted him.

A year went by and still I couldn’t tell him anything. It always made my stomach clench like someone was grasping it as tightly as I grasped onto River’s hand when we walked among the busy streets.

On my eleventh birthday, River took me out for a gift. We went to Yuki-sensei’s and ate sushi and sashimi, which I ate with my fingers after giving up on chopsticks and River sat watching, smiling as I licked my fingers clean and glowed. We went to an old museum and looked at the crumbling statues of angels and warriors and we picked out which ones were the most like us. We went to a park and fed the big-mouthed, bright colored koi. And then we went home.

I told him I had to tell him something as he tucked me into bed, thinking now was the perfect time because nothing could ruin such a perfect day.

“What is it, little love?” he asked.

“I love you, River. Brother.”

“I love you too, Toshi-kun.” He ruffled my hair and shame burned my face.

“No, River. I…love you…love you.”

He didn’t say anything for the longest time and only studied me with an unreadable expression on his face. “I know,” he finally said and left.

Weeks passed with hardly a word passed between us. We fumbled around the little house, bumping into each other from time to time, which was inevitable…which would have been welcomed before I had to open my mouth and ruin it all. Yes. Things had changed and we both felt it.

Then one night it happened. I was waiting up, afraid for River was not yet home and it was nearing dawn.

I was tensely lounging on the couch when he entered, his eyes unfocused, movements slow like he was moving through water.

“Toshi,” he called blindly. “Toshi, love.”

“River? What’s wrong?” I stood and when I did, I saw the flash of silver light from River’s outstretched hand. A gun. A pretty little pewter pistol aimed directly at me form his clenched fist. “River…what are you doing?”

“I can’t do it anymore. I’m your brother. Not your lover. You don’t know what you’re doing to me. You’re so blissfully oblivious to it all. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m a man. Toshi, you’re a boy. Brothers. It isn’t right—” His lips still moved but his voice was drowned out by the loud explosion from the gun,

There was a sharp pain in my stomach and I knew nothing after that.

I can’t tell you how long I lay helplessly in that hospital bed. I can’t even tell you how I survived the attempted murder carried out by River. But it was killing me again. I was convinced it killed me the first time. I lost all desire to keep trying—to keep living.

But somehow I’m got over it and I healed…physically at least. Mentally, things were still awry. It became evident to all when I attempted suicide. But five years later and I’m free. Five years later and I’m prowling the streets of the city. Prowling this busy city with a pistol in my pocket, seeking the destruction of he who betrayed my trust.

My eyes are always open. My senses are continuously alert. I look for the tall man with dark hair and a soft smile and murky eyes that hold something dark. I search the crowds for the smell of burning candles and soapy water. I listen for a silky voice. I wish to touch the soft skin of River’s once more, feel his lips between my eyebrows just one last time.

Just one last time.

One more time before I kill him.

Don’t think me as crazy. This must be done. Don’t you see? Because of him, I can never trust anyone again. Because of him, I cannot love for as long as I live. Or at least as long as he lives. Don’t blame me. Don’t think me the bad guy. No…oh, no. This must be done.

After picking up a bento from Yuki-sensei’s, I head to the park to sit beside the pond and watch the koi swimming up, begging for food with their lips and beady eyes. And over on a bench, completely alone, drenched in a dark and gloomy aura…there sits a man. I observe him for a while. His face is hidden as he bows his head and is plastered in shadows. But I know it. I know for a fact it’s him.

I stand and slowly walk to him, one hand in my pocket, warming the trigger of my pistol. I take a stop in front of him and smirk.

“Excuse me, sir,” I softly murmur. He looks up and his eyes meet mine. I grin.

His eyes widen. “T-Toshi? Is it really…is it really you?”

“Possibly. Are you surprised? Does it shock you to see me alive and standing before you? Does it intimidate you…” I take the gun from my pocket and aim it at the space between River’s arched eyebrows, “to have a gun aimed at you. I know what it’s like, though. I can sympathize quite well. Yes...I can sympathize.”

“What’s it like…” he raises his own hand, the same pistol from that night held in it, “to face death twice in one lifetime?”

“Three actually.”

“You don’t say?” I feel the cold ring of metal on my hot, sweat beaded skin. Another cold kiss. Our last kiss. Our good-bye kiss. "I always expected that you'd come and find me, a ghost at my door. But this...I must say that this is quite unexpected."

“I suppose this is just how it was supposed to be,” I sigh dismally, my eyes straying to my abandoned bento, wondering who will eat it when this is over.

“Maybe so. You know I always loved you?”

“Maybe so.”

“Well…good-bye, Toshi.”

“Good-bye, River. Love you still, brother.”

And with the koi as our witnesses, we shared our last bullet and gunpowder kiss, feelings mutual, twisted passion communal, brother to brother, lover to lover, we leave this world.

Fin

A/N: I did mean to change to present tense at the end. ^_^