When I stepped into the afterlife, the harsh and bitter details of my years drifted away into a sea of blurriness. All that was left was a series of golden memories, a collection of the good ol' days, as they say in America. I wish this could've been the case while I was still alive. After Ash's death, I learned that the art of forgetting is a subtle yet treacherous feat, but not once did I ever regret meeting him. I'm glad I came to America. I was a young and eager photographer's assistant, ready to experience life away from Japan. I met my lifelong friends. I discovered the best and worst parts of humanity. More than anything, I met Ash Lynx, and that made all the difference.
Life moved on without him, bringing painful years of losing a love that could never be replaced. I moved between New York City and Tokyo. My hometown, Izumo, soon became a distant place I returned to only for the holidays. I met new people to care for. Fell in and out of love again. Got married. Raised a family. Grew old. After Ash, life became simple again, or perhaps, my life was never destined to be the chaos that he was born into. However, Ash's existence never left my side. City to city, I carried him wherever I went. I carried him on my wedding day, as I raced to the hospital where my daughter was born, and when I took my last breath. He was there. He was everywhere.
Sometimes, I wondered what it would be like if Ash Lynx escaped from my memory—to live painlessly in oblivion, to be free from his essence. After all, to remember is to feel pain. I was able to forget the grief of my parents, my sister, and all of my friends who passed before me. Ash was different. He stayed in mind through the years, constantly and discreetly. In my loneliest moments, I tried to erase him from my memory. Trust me, I've tried, but Ash lived a life of persistence. Even in death, he never failed to linger in my life.
In my final days, I clung to the faces of my grandchildren: Cain, Ibe, and Shorter, all named after some of my closest friends. In those weak and weary times, my grandchildren carried an energy not too dissimilar from that of the New York City street kids: a ferocious, chaotic zeal. Oddly enough, Shorter once stormed into my hospital room to reveal his streaks of purple hair. I imagined he found my old photographs, stashed beneath the cheesy Coney Island souvenirs I was never able to throw away. He must've discovered polaroids of Shorter with his dark glasses and mischievous smile.
Instead of bedtime tales, I told them stories about Ash, Sing, Skip, Max, and the boys who fought by our side. I narrated the time we drove across the country and when we raced down subway cars to escape murderers and mafia members. My grandchildren laughed. In their minds, my stories were just stories. They never knew the truth, but that was just fine.
Then, it was all over. What I left behind was small and possibly insignificant in years to come, but I hope my grandchildren will take my photographs and remember me. Just like how I remembered Ash during the times I needed him most.
The afterlife greeted me with goodness and serenity. The spirit world felt quite a lot like the world we all leave behind at some point, but here, the trees glimmered in the sunlight with a bluer shade of green, and the water was always a bit warmer. The birds sang more complex melodies, and the wind was never blistering.
I found myself in New York City again. Then, I saw them. Cain, Max, and Sing waved from a distance, and I ran, sprinting until they embraced me.
"Welcome back, old friend." Sing squeezed my shoulders. We were all back in the bodies of our younger selves—strong and fierceful.
"What have you all been doing since I last saw everyone?" I asked.
"Ah, nothing much," Cain grumbled. "Watching over these two like always."
"Speak for yourself. I've been getting my apartment ready for Jessica," Max scoffed. "Enough of us, though. How are you?"
"I'm just glad to be back." I truly was.
We trekked through the city, from Canal Street to Downtown Brooklyn, until we found a spot to rest on the Manhattan Bridge. Overlooking the East River, we gazed at the geese migrating south. The late autumn wind hit our cheeks. The sun sunk into shades of lazy oranges and sleepy reds. We were at peace, guards down and unafraid. No gunshots. No explosions. Just the splashing of the water below our feet.
"Feels good, eh?" Sing nudged my arm and pointed at drifting clouds. "After death, nobody cares about money or the drugs or who people assume you're fighting for. We're all just here, just enjoying what we never got to enjoy."
"Wanna know the best part?" I looked over at Cain, who was also mesmerized by the glowing sunset as he spoke. "I can run up and down all of New York City, and no one is chasing me. The police don't exist here. They're all free. We're all free, Eiji. That shit's tight as fuck, if you ask me."
I thought about the mafias and politicians. We were all controlled by violence, and New York City rotted us all. It stole Ash, and it eventually killed him too. But today, we're the luckiest dead men out here. We know what this city was once like. Now, there was peace. and silence. and love... a love that was unafraid to embrace itself. I could hear Max's gentle breaths.
New York City in the afterlife felt like paradise.
What if I had met Ash in the afterlife? In a city without blood?
I closed my eyes and pressed them tight, so they would not see me cry. Even in the afterlife, I wasn't able to hold back these tears. I wanted to be strong, but unlike these guys, I always let my guard down.
"Wow," Sing whispered as dusk covered Manhattan in a lavender glaze, "I couldn't fathom how much you must miss him. God, all those years without him."
"I think the same could be said about Ash," Max added. "Oh, boys, the time has come, hasn't it?"
I clutched my shirt to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest.
"This feels like a proud dad moment!" Max exclaimed.
"Okay, calm down," Cain cheerfully smirked. "Eiji, would you like to find him?"
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I'll Wait in Izumo - Banana Fish [Ash x Eiji]
Fanfiction"Stay by my side. It doesn't have to be forever. Even if it's just for now." After Ash's death, Eiji Okumura went on to live a long and fruitful life. For many years, he tried forcing himself to let go of his first love, but Ash Lynx never failed to...