In the Woods Somewhere (Tsukkiyama)

The Interim

Ever true to his word, Tadashi spent his first year without Tsukki in emotional agony. Although he had not known it before, the golden fae had been the only thing in Tadashi's life worth living for. It was only a few months into his voluntary exile from the faerie realm that Tadashi realized this. Alas, it had come too little too late; he could not go back on his choice. That did not stop Tadashi from wishing he could change his mind every day, though. He had made his decision, though, and so live a human life he must.

After a solid year of wallowing in shame and fear and grief, Tadashi, or rather, his incredibly foul-tempered father, forced himself to pick up with work at the apothecary. It was not the same, though. Where he once saw warm and grateful smiles, he found pity and poorly hidden fear. The rest of the village saw Tadashi as saved from the fae, yes, but they eyed him with a new fear and wariness as if he would snap at any moment. There were times when Tadashi wished he would.

Back were the whispers from his childhood, the theories and slander spread by town gossips. He had worked so hard to be seen as part of the town, as a person and an equal, but now the people were wary and suspicious of him once again. The charming and likable person others once saw shattered, as the townsfolk chose to see him as a danger, a threat with no loyalties. They hid it well, or well enough, but Tadashi still heard.

Hushed whispers when his back was turned, disdainful conversations just loud enough to pass through the tavern walls, suspicious looks, and tense meetings, they followed Tadashi like a plague. While he had been subject to rumors before, they were mainly about his mother; now, they were about him. In just under two years, Tadashi had become a living ghost story. Mothers used him as an example of the dangers of the fae, teens whispered about him in the dark to scare their friends, no one ever spoke to him unless they needed something.

The theories were, as with all small-town gossip, plentiful. Some claimed that Tadashi was an especially good liar and that he was a Nameless living in their midst. Others claimed he was truly half-fae, or a changeling, only there to drain the life of the village. Those ones didn't bother Tadashi as much; he knew them to be false, Tsukki never had his name, and if he was part fae, someone surely would've told him. No, the rumor that stung the most was the one where everyone saw him as human. The younger people all favored the first two stories, but anyone who knew Tadashi's mother would say the same thing; 'That boy is just like his mother, too curious for his own good. He doesn't accept his place in life. He'll end up dead, just like her'. To those people, Tadashi was already dead; it would only be a matter of time.

The people who would willingly interact with Tadashi outside of the apothecary were few and far between; even his father refused to acknowledge him. There were, however, some who didn't seem to mind Tadashi's reputation. Shimada-san was a local butcher who firmly refused to let the town's opinion sway his views on anyone. While picking up a salve for a cut, Shimada had struck up a friendly conversation with Tadashi, seemingly unafraid of him. It was a pleasant change from how the rest of the town treated him, and Tadashi grew to appreciate Shimada's visits, now without the prompting of medical issues. With Shimada's kindly friendship came an olive branch from his apprentice-turned-employee, Ennoshita. Ennoshita was a year older than Tadashi and, much like his mentor, cared little for the superstitious rumors of the town. It was in these two pillars of friendship and solidarity, that Tadashi took solace in the wake of another tragedy.

Early into the third year of Tadashi's new Tsukki-less life, Tadashi was struck with a simultaneous disaster and blessing. Tadashi had ended the night as he often did; by hurrying through a tense and hostile dinner with his father and then wrapping himself in the threadbare blankets he called a bed. What his father did on these evenings eluded Tadashi, and he had no desire to know. What Tadashi did know, however, was that by the next morning, his father was lying dead in his bed. It had come as quite the shock to Tadashi, who had been expecting to wake his assumedly drunk or hungover father. Instead of a flushed, irritable, alive body, was a greying stiff corpse, already cold. There wasn't much Tadashi could do; even as a medic, dead men could not come back to life.