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Death by Ex-Girlfriend
[The End of Osamu Ashikaga] Epilogue (Part 1) -- That Which is Most Precious

[The End of Osamu Ashikaga] Epilogue (Part 1) -- That Which is Most Precious

Flocks of doves trailed across the light blue skies of Hokkaido. The golden sun enwreathed the fleet of fluffy clouds in its light and beamed the shadows of the birds down upon the vibrant, green countryside. Japanese hares frolicked across the hillocks, hiding beneath clover canopies and eating grass. Four black SUV’s cruised down a dirt road snaking through the countryside.

The convoy passed by a group of young boys playing soccer in the dandelion meadows with joyous, innocent smiles plastered across their faces. Hima watched them play from the other side of the tinted windows of the lead SUV. Carmilla drove the car, Nastasia sat in the passenger seat, and Hima sat in the back with a gorgeous, young woman with a voluminous mane of a wavy, black hair and brilliant, vermillion eyes. She held a bouquet of white roses in her hands as she watched Hima gaze out of her passenger side window.

“Inadora…” Hima said.

Startled, the young woman responded, “Yeah, Mom?”

“Would you like to visit your father while we’re out here?” Hima asked

Inadora nodded her head. “Yeah. Would you mind if I went alone, though?”

Hima turned her head towards Inadora in surprise. “Alone? Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Inadora affirmed. “We just need some daughter-father time. No pesky moms to get in the way.”

Hima chuckled softly. “Fine. I won’t get in your way.”

“We’re almost there, Hima.” Carmilla interjected.

“Good.” Hima answered. “Taeko deserves a proper send-off. It’s a beautiful day to give that to her.”

The convoy stopped outside of Yoko’s family home. The doors and windows were wide open. Izanami and Amatsuki waited in the front garden for Hima and the Yakutsk Lords to arrive while Yoko, Tsukiakari, Shinju, Manami, and Kagutsuchi, Amaterasu, and Uzume remained inside with Taeko. Hima and the lords stepped out of their cars, and passed through the black iron gate walling off the dirt road from the front garden of the house. Were it under different circumstances, Izanami and Amatsuki would’ve greeted everyone with warm smiles on their faces. However, the occasion proved too solemn and heartbreaking to force anything even resembling smiles upon their faces.

“She’s inside. She’s still with us, but…” Izanami stammered, struggling to say more.

“Stubborn right until the very end, huh?” Carmilla said. “I’m glad. At least we’ll get to say goodbye to her.”

“May we?” Hima asked.

Izanami nodded and quietly lead the lords inside. Everyone gathered around the sofa where Taeko lied, cocooned in warm blankets to keep her comfortable. Dozens of candles were lit around the living room, filling the house with the aroma of lavender, honeydew, and vanilla. Out of respect for her fellow lord, Nastasia lifted her black veil to reveal her face. Ulrich left his ushanka on the hat rack by the entrance and all the lords took off their boots and shoes before stepping into the living room.

Tsukiakari knelt by Taeko’s side, stroking her wrinkled cheeks and mane of blackish, grey hair. Beside Tsukiakari was a young man with short, trimmed beard and wavy, black hair that reached down to his shoulder blades. His eyes sparkled with the same emerald brilliance as Taeko’s.

“Mom? Can you still hear us?” The young man asked.

“I hear you…Minato” Taeko said, struggling to gather the breath to speak.

Hima, Inadora, and the Yakutsk Lords all knelt before Taeko, joining Yoko and her family in mourning.

“Hey, Taeko.” Hima said, a melancholic smile on her face. “We knew you’d hang on until we got here.”

“Yeah, it’s just like you.” Inadora quipped.

“Ahh…” Taeko gasped softly, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Hima, Ina…you all came to see me?”

Tsukiakari slid her hand over Taeko’s hand and tenderly interlocked their fingers together. “Of course they came to see you. You dared to build your own nation. You won the loyalty of thousands of people. You tricked Bishamon and the whole world. You schemed and strategized your way to Inari. You walked away from a firing squad with your life and you were the architect of Minavere and the Third Great Holy War. You did it all like it was your destiny. Your intellect, your iron will, your ferocity, they all inspired everyone around you in your era and in the modern era. You fought so hard, Taeko. You’re a living legend. There’s no way someone who’s touched so many lives should die alone.”

Though her grip was weak, Taeko tightened her fingers around Tsukiakari’s hand. Tears filled her eyes as she looked upon the faces of everyone that came to see her off. Her friends, her family, and even the Yakutsk Lords were by her side on that beautiful, sun-kissed day.

“I thought I lost everything…” Taeko began, her hair fanned out on the sofa like wavy, black sun rays. “My father was the first to die. I killed my mother with my own hands to protect my sister, and though I fought like hell…I lost her too. Everyone in the Senkumo clan…Chiya, Yachi, Goro, all those kids…gone. I didn’t think there’d be much to live for in the modern era. I thought I’d just save you and end it all. But then I met Shinju…”

Shinju covered her mouth as she sobbed violently. Izanami held Shinju in her arms and gave her her shoulder to weep upon.

“Shinju, you stuck with me through thick and thin.” Taeko said. “I don’t even know how to repay you for that.”

“You don’t have to.” Shinju cried. “I would do it all over again, Taeko.”

Taeko’s satisfied smile was all Shinju needed to see to know the feelings were very mutual. The two of them accomplished so much together. Between concealing Taeko’s identity and managing to survive the Inari Standoff, they were able to come out of any horrific ordeal, no matter how badly the odds were stacked against them. It would’ve never worked without Taeko’s relentless tenacity and Shinju’s unyielding loyalty to her.

“I got to see you and Izanami again, Gekko.” Taeko continued. “I was blessed to meet your family, and little did I know that I even had a distant relative here.”

Yoko chuckled softly, though her smile soon wilted into a mournful frown.

“It was so good to see Inari again…” Taeko sighed. “I’m glad I got to be there for her during that fight. I know you weren’t always happy to have me around, Manami, but I’m happy I got to meet you. And despite all that happened…I can say…I’m glad that I got to call Osamu one of my best friends. It’ll soon be twenty years since he passed. I only wish I could stay a little longer to commemorate that. I spent my whole life fighting. Fighting clans, fighting other nations, fighting gods, even. These last twenty years of peace…were some of the best days of my life. It was…my life’s greatest honor…to have been part of this family. Nothing…is more important than this. All your faces…all these memories…”

Taeko closed her eyes, her delighted smile growing even wider. “I even gave birth to a handsome, talented son. My baby boy, Minato.”

“I’m almost twenty, Mom.” Minato laughed. “When are you gonna stop calling me that?”

Taeko shook her head. “No matter how old you get, you’ll always be my baby boy. Don’t ever forget that.”

Minato wiped the tears from his eyes and fought to keep his bright smile on his face. He wanted that expression to be the last thing his mother remembers of him. He wanted it to bring her peace.

“Ina…you’ve grown into a splendid, young woman.” Taeko complimented. “I have no doubt that someday…you’ll be a wonderful queen. Though…it might be difficult finding a husband…the way you get bits of eggshell in your omelettes.”

Everyone in the room laughed, but none harder than Hima and the Yakutsk Lords. They knew all too well that Inadora still had a little growing up to do when it came to cooking.

“I’ll miss making them for you, Taeko…” Inadora cried.

“I know…” Taeko said. “I’ll miss it too, dear. Take good care of your mother. Same goes for you, Gekko. Amaterasu, you have your flaws, but every person is a mixed bag. One thing that is undeniable about you is that, through it all, you never let your heart turn to stone. You still have an endless potential for love. Share that with the world and you’ll make it a much better place. I know Uzume will guide you along the way.”

Amaterasu gave Taeko a nod of respect, her golden eyes wet with tears as she held Uzume’s hand for comfort. “In your honor, I’ll do my absolute best, Taeko.”

“I keep thinking of what you once said to Gekko, Izanami,” Taeko said, “that all the love we lose in this world eventually finds it way back to us. Thus…it’s never truly lost. I lived everyday with love in my heart, hoping that such a thing was true. If I hadn’t met you all, maybe I would’ve thought otherwise. But…now I see…the love I had with my mother, my father, my sister, my clan…it all returned to me hundredfold…through all of you.”

Tears of gratitude ran down Taeko’s cheek as her grip around Tsukiakari’s hand grew weaker. “All I can is…thank you. Thank you so much…Thank you…Thank you…”

Taeko repeated those final words like a mantra, each one growing weaker than the last. Finally, Taeko Akiyama, the woman who founded two nations, the fearless captain that bested her enemies and survived to tell the tale, passed away with all of her friends, family, and comrades at her side.

Tsukiakari took Taeko’s hands and clasped them together for her. She then pulled Taeko’s eyelids down so she could rest properly. Hardly able to see through her downpour of tears, Tsukiakari planted a soft kiss on Taeko’s forehead, then her nose, and finally, her lips.

“What a life you lived…” Tsukiakari wept. “You can finally rest…my dear Taeko.”

After Tsukiakari, Yoko kissed Taeko in the same places. Then it was Izanami, Amatsuki, Kagutsuchi, Manami, Minato, and all the Yakutsk Lords.

“She was a force of nature.” Hima eulogized. “There’ll never be another person like her. She deserves the highest respects.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

After Taeko’s passing, Izanami and Tsukiakari tended to her body and prepped her for burial. It was Taeko’s wish to be buried there in Hokkaido, beneath the red maple tree where Osamu and the Shoku Twins were laid to rest. Everyone else moved outside, toasting glasses of red wine to Taeko Akiyama, the woman that fight against the gods and won. While everyone else drank and mourned together, Inadora marched up the hillock leading to the red maple tree. She found three headstones in front of the tree, the center headstone marked with the name Osamu Ashikaga and the years 1998-2032. The other two headstones belonged to Akatsuki Nisshoku and Omagatoki Gesshoku.

Inadora sat on her knees, smiling as the breeze cooled her skin. “It’s good to see you again, Dad. I guess you and Taeko have finally been reunited somewhere, huh? I asked to come see you alone today. I couldn’t really say it in front of the others, but…I wanted to thank you. Thank you for everything you did in your final months alive. I was born free because of you. Many people won’t understand what it took for you to do what you did, but I think I do. You’re my savior, my knight in shining armor…and I never even got to meet you.”

Though Osamu never lived to see Inadora come into the world, his legacy loomed over her like the sunlight covered the entire Hokkaido landscape. Twenty years after his passing, Yakutsk became the capital city of Minavere, which expanded its borders well beyond the confines of Siberia. Instead of forming a massive army of soldiers, Minavere sent forth a colossal expedition of explorers, architects, engineers, farmers, and doctors to start the process of rebuilding civilization.

A ten meter tall, stainless steel statue of Osamu riding a galloping horse stood where the Scarlet Senate building used to be. The base of the statue was decorated with Minaverian flags and the seemingly endless amount of flowers left by the vampires that owed him their lives. The statue showed Osamu pointing a longsword towards the rising sun, leading the vampiric race and the world at large to a new dawn.

Once upon a time, the vampires believed that their history of subjugation and systematic annihilation at the hands of humans would continue until they were all destroyed, that it was immune to their efforts to change it. Osamu showed them that history is not an immutable samsara of suffering, that with the will to fight and make harsh decisions, any people could win back their nations. For his herculean deeds, Osamu became a legend, a national hero, and mythological being to the people of Minavere.

He became the awe-inspiring man that little boys pretended to be when they played with their friends. It wasn’t uncommon for any young boy’s reckless stunts or acts of bravery to earn a laugh from their mother and father, followed by the question, “who are you trying to be, Osamu Ashikaga?”. His very name became sacrosanct, and though no one ever hoped to compare to his legacy, being compared to him at all was considered a most generous and ardent compliment.

With the twentieth anniversary of his passing soon approaching, the people of Minavere living in Yakutsk and all the major cities of Russia under reconstruction paraded in the streets with their national flags, still belting out the adage he shared with Inari with lion-like fervor. It was enough to reverberate across all four corners of the globe.

Every man, woman, and child unleashed their nationalist fury, “Fight together! Die together! Fight together! Die together!”

The small pockets of humanity left in the world formed their own, small governments. It would take time for Hima to bind them all to Osamu’s vow to abstain from war, but the newly formed governments in North America, Japan, Egypt, and almost all of Europe were already under her control. Just as Osamu planned, whenever Hima sought to reach a reconstruction deal with those countries, she would also demand them to adhere to strict pacifism. With Inari’s heart and blood inside her, Hima’s demands became unbreakable law. The world was forced into a state of peace held together by Inari’s Bloodcraft and Osamu’s undying desire for war to end.

As the vampires promised, Kyoto was one of the first cities to be rebuilt. In twenty years, much of what was destroyed was brought back. The Japanese people wouldn’t recover their population for generations, but until that day came, Kyoto became a new home for the vampires of Minavere. With much of the infrastructure of Kyoto rebuilt, Yoko and her family were able to move back to the city and back into their first house.

It was almost a year after Taeko’s passing, and it was a breezy, cloudy day. The air was chilled by the coming of autumn. Leaves fluttering in the wind turned from green to red, bright gold, or light brown. On that autumn day, Yoko and her family gathered outside the house to bid farewell to Kiyoko and Yuuto, both twenty-eight years old. They were going with Amaterasu and Uzume to travel the world with Hima, who was making every effort to continue binding the world with Osamu’s vow of peace.

“You’re sure about this?” Yoko asked, clutching the collar of her white, button-down shirt. “You two know you can always come home, right? You don’t have to do this.”

Yuuto stood tall and proud on two prosthetic legs. His long, black hair was tied into a top bun with a few locks left unbound. He had spent many years working out his core and upper body, giving him a carved, muscular physique. He stood alongside his sister, Kiyoko, who resembled Yoko when she was much younger. Wrapped in a brown bomber’s jacket and white scarf, she stayed as warm as possible in the midst of autumn’s chill.

“I’m sure about this.” Yuuto said. “Humanity is still struggling to get back on its feet in certain parts of the world. Kiyoko and I agreed that we have a duty to help as many people as we can, no matter how long it takes.”

“We’ll be sure to keep our identities a secret.” Kiyoko added. “It’ll be fine, we promise.”

Tsukiakari crossed her arms as she let out a soft chuckle. “Come on, they can make their own decisions, Yoko. Let them follow their hearts.”

“I know, but…” Yoko fretted. “What if Yuuto forgets to take his pain medication, or if he gets another lice infection? He’s also really bad at keeping his bathroom clean, I mean, I gets hair everywhere when he comes out of the shower! Almost thirty years old and I was still cleaning up after him!”

“Mom!” Yuuto groaned.

Uzume stepped forward, hoping to spare Yuuto any more parental embarrassment. “Amaterasu and I will make sure to hold Yuuto to a high standard. After all, he has such wonderful parents.”

“Mhm!” Izanami hummed, wearing a cooking apron and holding a ladle in her right hand. “I trust you completely. Go out there and find what makes your soul burn! If your passion is to help people, then get out there and help them. Change the world with that passion.”

Izanami’s words were hauntingly reminiscent of what she told Osamu on the day they met, when she encouraged him to find his reason for living. It was advice that encouraged him to leave Kyoto and allowed him to meet Rousoku before finding the conviction to return to his hometown. It almost scared her into thinking Yuuto was going to live out the same path his father did. Though, that fear was entirely unfounded. They lived in a world where war wasn’t even a possibility, where every living being’s priority was peace and non-aggression, even in the face of ideological conflict. They, like the rest of humanity, were free to follow their hearts with unyielding passion and certainty.

“We’ll make you proud, Mom. Promise.” Yuuto said, a smile on his face.

“Okay…I guess we should stop being annoying and overbearing…” Amatsuki sighed, opening her arms for a hug. “Pack it in, kiddos.”

Yuuto and Kiyoko gave long, parting hugs to Amatsuki, Yoko, Izanami, and Tsukiakari. It wasn’t goodbye, but everyone knew they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while. Yuuto and Kiyoko inherited Osamu’s love of helping people and his drive to toil for their sake. While their father’s love of humanity twisted into something else entirely, they remained hopeful about the world in which they lived. Unless they did something to counter Osamu’s destructive legacy, they couldn’t live with the fact that they were his children.

“Take good care of them, please.” Yoko said, shaking her hands and holding back tears.

“Of course, don’t even worry about us.” Amaterasu said. “We’ll make sure they come home for the holidays too!”

“All of you better come home.” Yoko demanded. “We’ve celebrated Thanksgiving ever since Isabella lived with us and we’re not stopping.”

“I’d return just for your cranberry sauce.” Uzume giggled. “Count on it, we’ll be there.”

Reluctant, yet willing to let go of her children, Yoko smiled. “Good luck. We’ll be here for you. Always.”

“See you, everyone.” Yuuto said, waving goodbye.

“Bye! Take care!” Kiyoko cheered, ready to head off and see the world for herself.

Yuuto and Kiyoko entered the back seats of the white SUV parked in wait for them. Amaterasu and Uzume entered after them, giving one last, parting gaze to Yoko and the others.

“Hey, Mom!” Tsukiakari shouted. “You’re forgetting something!”

Puzzled, Amaterasu’s brows arched downward. “What?”

With a bright and warm smile on her face, Tsukiakari ran up to her mother and nearly tackled her in a loving hug. “I love you.”

Amaterasu laughed as she hugged back. “You’re way too strong, you know that? I love you too, Gekko. I’ll see you later.”

With that, Amaterasu joined the others in the car and drove off in the direction of the rebuilt Kyoto airport. Yoko and the others watched them disappear down the road with holes in their hearts. The past year had been a season of farewells, it seemed, between Taeko’s passing and their children’s decision to help rebuild the world. Painful as it was to see their children go, they all possessed the motherly wisdom to know that every bird has to leave its nest, that every river leads to the sea, and every child was born to fulfill a purpose.

“There they go…” Yoko murmured.

“Yeah. There they go.” Tsukiakari said. “Well, I guess it’s just us now. We should head back inside.”

“Ah!” Izanami squeaked, running back inside the house. “The chili! I hope I didn’t burn it!”

“Crap, we forgot!” Tsukiakari exclaimed, racing inside with Izanami.

“You were supposed to cut the onions, Gekko!” Izanami chided.

“Don’t you start!” Tsukiakari barked back.

Watching them filled Amatsuki’s stomach with laughter. “Some things just never change, huh?”

A loving smile blossomed across Yoko’s face. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Oh, I’ll go ahead and let Shinju know we’re having chili tonight.” Amatsuki said. “Let’s see how fast she comes running over to our house!”

Yoko and Amatsuki walked back inside and closed the door behind them. After leaving their shoes by the front door, they bowed to the shrine altars against the wall, just a few paces away from the entrance. Photos of Isabella, Aika, Rei, Taeko, and Chiya stood upon the altar along with burning sticks of incense for each of them. However, there was no altar for Osamu, not even a single picture with him in it. Though the girls agreed to let his body rest beneath the red maple tree close to their second home, the thought of memorializing Osamu in their own home made their skin crawl and their veins tingle.

It was such a confusing and conflicting storm of emotions to endure. The world hadn’t seen another conflict since the end of the Third Great Holy War. With much of earth’s landmass left in ruin, the dwindling remains of humanity had no choice but to accept the help of Minavere in rebuilding their nations and supplying them with basic necessities and technology. In doing so, all who remained after Dark Dawn were bound by Hima’s edit to abstain from war.

Osamu was long gone, and yet his will for peace was still very much alive. His pacifist vow gripped the world like a shrouded hand, controlling Hima, Minavere, and everyone that accepted their help. While Minavere built statues and affixed Osamu’s name to their national anthem, what few, human races and cultures built memorials to honor those who had been brutally murdered in Osamu’s pursuit of his goal. All the men that were crushed in their homes, the women that burned with their families in their vehicles, and all the children that died alone and afraid were silently and solemnly honored, never to be forgotten.

Just as Osamu wished, the pain they all endured during Dark Dawn morphed into a phobic aversion to war. It became more than just the seed for peace — it was the very soil in which the seeds of civilization would take root in. Human civilization had no choice but to embrace a massive, cultural shift in which war was no longer a viable solution for solving problems.

Even those that had not yet been brought into Osamu’s ideological hive mind were deterred from acting out in vengeance, for Minavere was the only real country left standing. They were the only ones capable of feeding and equipping a capable, modern army and deploying them across the world. Humanity had nothing, not the food, not the technology, not the manpower, and not the morale needed to fuel a war effort.

This peace came at an unimaginable cost, and yet, now that they were living in the midst of it, the girls couldn’t argue that the world wasn’t becoming a better place. Hima’s promise to reconstruct human civilization was sincere and the results were spectacular. New children were born into a world where they’d never have to endure wars or atrocities such as genocide. It was a blank slate and a second chance for all that remained of humanity.

Osamu’s catastrophic plan worked out for the best, and it was clear that it would benefit humanity for generations to come. Did that mean that it was worth it? Did that mean he did the right thing in sacrificing billions of living people to save the innumerable humans that would come after? If you asked Hima or any of the vampires, they would’ve said it was worth it, without hesitation or remorse. They would’ve praised Osamu’s very name and hailed him as the liberator and savior of their race. The eradication of humanity, the destruction of the world, and the ultranationalist uprising that gripped Minavere and killed so many within the city of Yakutsk was all worth it.

Yoko and the rest of her family, however, didn’t have an answer. They couldn’t support the destruction that Osamu wrought upon the world, but they couldn’t ignore that the peace he built was truly permanent. By the time humanity fully rebuilt itself, everyone would be under the spell of Osamu’s vow of peace. The world would have all the manpower and technology needed to wage large-scale wars, yet it would lack the agency and philosophical freedom to do so. War as a concept was dead.