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merryfortune · 1 year

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Placed Under a Tree, Enduring Against an Unwanted Mark

Written for Multiamory March 2023

Day 29: Mark

Title: Placed Under a Tree, Enduring Against an Unwanted Mark

Ship: Saviorshipping | Ryoken/Spectre/Yusaku

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,082

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmate Identifying Marks, Canon Retelling, Polyamory Negotiations, Getting Together

When Yusaku was freed from the prison of the experiment, the first thing he begged the authorities to do was find out who Kinoshita Shinobu was.

That person, whoever they were, must be a key to getting Yusaku home as he had no recollection outside of his own name as a clue of where he came from. They simply had to be his mother, or his father, someone, anyone. That was what he believed against the terrifying blank slate of the fact that he had no other recollection of his life outside the little, white box that he had been tortured inside of. The trauma of the incident had all but wiped his memory clean of everything and anything about living. About home, who his parents were or the like.

And if Kinoshita Shinobu was not someone who knew who Yusaku was or where he came from… then maybe he was a part of the Incident as well. That this person could be tracked down and brought to justice.

Unfortunately, six year old Fujiki Yusaku got neither when one of the therapists brought in to talk to him. This therapist, among the many things about society and the world and what it meant to be happy, had to rebuild Yusaku’s world from the bottom up. All over again since he couldn’t remember what it was like outside the little white box that he had been starved inside.

That included the simple but universal fact of life that soulmates existed and their existence was permanently marked upon one’s wrist. Right there, right where Kinoshita Shinobu was written in perfectly computer typed kanji.

Yusaku did not take this news well. He was six years old. He didn’t remember his parents’ faces or what their love was like, unto each other or even unto him. To learn of soulmates, at an age when girls had cooties, for example, it didn’t go over well with him and so, Yusaku resolved: he would not ever look for Kinoshita Shinobu.

He would, however, try to look for his parents. Even a new set to adopt him but that never happened. He abandoned that hope by twelve but by thirteen, he didn’t need hope. He decided that he needed vengeance so he would, however, look into the Incident. What it was, why he had been chosen: anything and everything about that abhorrent experiment.

In doing so, Yusaku learned the names of his enemies: the Knights of Hanoi. He learned the name of his other self to wear as a second skin, Playmaker, and the names of his great ally: Unnamed, Kusanagi Shoichi. He even gave a name to that funny little rogue program that the Knights were hunting: he called the little eyeball-shaped artificial intelligence Ai and everything seemed to explode from there.

Almost literally as the plot that the Knights of Hanoi were building to with their infections and their viruses was the extermination of the Ignis by any means possible. Up to and including taking an entire city with them by turning the Link VRAINS into a bomb.

Even though Yusaku very much wanted to do it alone, two heroes of the Link VRAINS joined him. Onizuka Go and Blue Angel. In the end, Playmaker did have to do it alone but they fought valiantly and it was in the wake of Blue Angel’s feathered data that Playmaker met Spectre.

And Spectre was someone that Playmaker had never paused to consider could possibly exist. He was unfathomable. Unconscionable, surely, that’s what Playmaker thought at first.

“Do you not know the crime of the Knights of Hanoi?” Playmaker yelled across the duelling field. “That ten years ago, they imprisoned six children and tortured them.”

His heart strained against the fabric of the network as he screamed all his pain unto Spectre who took it with an evasive expression. Only to reveal something that Playmaker did not expect.

“Do I know?” Spectre mocked him. “Yes, the six children, put in separate rooms, just as you did not see I, I did not see you. I was one of them, Playmaker. One of the chosen.”

From there Spectre spieled insanity. Playmaker listened and he listened hard, his heart pounded and he wanted to gag violently. He was rattled and Spectre proudly waved around his meat shield in the form of Zaizen Akira and used Playmaker’s now fragmented mental state to his advantage.

Yusaku had met Kusanagi Jin. He was a shell of the boy that Shoichi showed him in photographs and home movies, happy and kicking a soccer ball around, dreaming of gold medals. That was, unfortunately, not the Jin of present time who was frail and screamed when he heard static.

It was sick but he validated all of Yusaku’s assumptions about the Incident. It was bad. Awful. Horrible. An absolute evil to be unleashed on small children and yet here Spectre was. Waxing poetic about how it had been his paradise, how it had given him meaning and purpose and how he never wanted it to end.

Ai had to reel Playmaker back in just so he could win the duel. They had to stop the Knights of Hanoi and their Tower. And Playmaker did win against Spectre, once he was snapped out and brought back to his own present where he could make that lunatic shut his goddamn mouth.

Winning against Spectre it… it felt not bad, Playmaker would admit. His heart rate accelerated as he ran across the bridge, leaving Spectre to his despair. He laughed madly as he accepted the flames but… Playmaker heard him say something.

“At least I am Revolver’s soulmate,” he said, laughing, crying, dying, “at least I am my Mother’s son.”

It hurt but it also hurt oddly less to know that Spectre’s final moments were at least in love but it left a strange taste in Playmaker’s mouth but he had to focus. He still had a duel with Revolver ahead of him, vengeance on behalf of Go, too.

That duel against Revolver, it was one they would even take to the world of flesh and bone and seeing him again, Yusaku’s heart fluttered.

Kogami Ryoken was a familiar face. Seeing him, Yusaku recounted one memory from just before the Incident. They had met at sunset, just like this.

They traded glares. They traded impassioned speeches about right and wrong, about the past, present, and the future but it was all being drawn into the same blackhole. There would be a duel. One would win, one would lose. There would either be catastrophe or a blip to follow.

But there was one thing, just a glimpse, Yusaku as Ryoken spoke with hand gestures. His name. On the inside of Ryoken’s wrist, only when his sleeve slipped down. He strained his eyes but Ryoken’s other hand, it remained firmly planted on his hip as he made his accusations and his denials and his justifications. Yusaku listened but he listened to his own thoughts above all because he was fully convinced: there was a better way.

He just wasn’t sure what it was yet. What it could look like if it wasn’t just taking Ryoken’s hand and jumping out the window into the ocean below. Getting away from everything but everything was a rather pressing and urgent matter at hand.

Of which, Yusaku hated to admit, included Ryoken’s loved ones, his Father, the Knights, Spectre - and his loathed ones.

But, if meeting Spectre had taught Playmaker anything, it was that he definitely did not want to meet Kinoshita Shinobu after that. Something about being underneath trees just made people insane, Playmaker was entirely willing to bet. Nope, nope, nope. But he didn’t know why this was the moral that he was taking away from his duel with Spectre. Surely there were better ones, like cheaters never prosper but for whatever reason, the musing on soulmates was on Playmaker’s mind.

Maybe it was because it was the last word that Spectre got in, maybe not.

Good thing it was. Because he managed to edge it into his meeting with Kogami Ryoken.

The first one that they had had, face to face, in the flesh, in ten long years. Ryoken was Yusaku’s spectral voice. The three reasons why which was what kept him going even in the darkest pits of his despair, eyes blurry from hunger, his body exhausted from losing. From being electrocuted. His fellow prisoner of destiny.

It was clearly against Ryoken’s better judgement but even though Spectre had previously proclaimed that he was Revolver’s soulmate, Yusaku saw it. His own name on the inside of Ryoken’s wrist matched the memory that he had of meeting Ryoken as a child, precious hours before the Incident. They had been so excited, immediately trading names on wrists and Yusaku… not caring about Kinoshita Shinobu because it was his name on Ryoken’s wrist.

Ryoken didn’t bring it up, not as a taunt or a threat or even a honeypot but Yusaku knew what he saw, both then and now as Ryoken had his villainous monologue in the sunset, in the sunroom of his mansion.

Yusaku wouldn’t claim to get it. He was entirely willing to call it a final attempt at a mind game from Spectre but he cast it aside. He was going to do his best to pull both himself and Ryoken out of this abyss that he saw and he was going to win this duel.

And he did win but Ryoken slipped through his fingers once again.

But he’d had another glimpse of a better life, a more recovered life. Yusaku was determined to make that a reality and that included unshackling Ai from him. At least for now because it didn’t take long for another threat to arise. And another, and another, it seemed.

Jin was stolen from his brother, from right in front of him. There were new suspicious characters in the shapes of Bit and Boot. There was whatever was going on with Bohman and Haru. Go had taken up a crusade against him, aligning himself with SOL Tech for his means and also in SOL Tech’s arsenal was Blood Shepherd. Then Lightning and Windy, both Ignises, emerged and were quick to reveal their own plans for the destruction not only of the Link Vrains but all humanity.

New allies emerged as well, like Flame and Takeru. Aqua. And Earth. But Earth was taken from them just as quickly. And that hurt.

It hurt when Jin was taken, like a stab to the gut but there was something strange about the hurt that Yusaku felt, as grief, when he learned of Earth’s decompilation through Ai. He had duelled Earth and had the most peculiar sensation whilst duelling him.

He was Spectre’s Ignis. Yusaku didn’t know why he had thought that, at the time, as little was known of Windy’s Origin and it could have been just as possible that Spectre had produced the Wind Ignis but no. The way Earth duelled. It was very familiar, from strategy to even how he Link Summoned - to how he chose a tree to be his podium in a person-like shape for Earth to sit upon the wrist of. Yes, it was all very familiar.

Yusaku shuddered. He wasn’t sure why he was thinking of Spectre in this dire time but he was.

It's not like he would later get any blows in with Spectre later when the Knights of Hanoi agreed to be Playmaker’s Faction’s pet and join them in the Mirror Link VRAINS together. That may have been a good thing as Playmaker had nothing good to say about Spectre.

(He certainly wasn’t going to ask for clarifications by what he meant that Revolver was his soulmate when Playmaker was certain he had seen otherwise.)

The costs of the Ignis warfare that ensued had been the greatest yet, unfortunately. They lost all the Ignis. Ai, not yet, but his expression, it was clear that in his grief, he was lost too, all but decimated.

He slipped through Yusaku’s fingers, too, and he wished that he had held on tighter but there was something about his hands… They weren’t really good at holding on tight, it seemed. He always seemed to fail to find what he was after and cherish it properly.

Could be so selfish but to blame the name, like that of a gravestone’s engraving, on his wrist? Connected to these hands? Maybe.

When Ai emerged again, Yusaku was depressed. Defeated. What else was there to be because he didn’t want to have to face his partner in combat but it was inevitable. He was taking out their past allies one after another, as sadistically as he could, he was breaking Hanoi’s new toy in the form of Pandor, and causing mayhem amongst SOL Tech.

All for the aim of inviting Yusaku into a trap disguised as an ultimatum. He wanted to die. He didn’t want to see Yusaku die but he was fine with letting Yusaku see him die: it broke him but he wanted Yusaku to be the vector by which he died.

Worse still. Playmaker could not see a way out of this ultimate duel where he didn’t lose. He had to win and he did. He farewelled his partner in his arms and vowed to bring him back. He hated it. He hated how easily he lost things despite all his hollow victories.

For three months, Yusaku allowed all his self to disappear. To slip away. He went into hiding and dedicated himself to bringing Ai back. It was absolute drudgery and in his own grief, Yusaku decided that he could only do it alone. He broke off all connections he had outside his own little world and was at it madly, hacking away, collecting all the chips and shards that he could find of Ai.

He followed every lead, every rumour, every falsity until he did it. He put all the pieces back together again, like Ai was Humpty Dumpty and he was the King’s men. The difficulty made it all the more worth it, though, when in the depths of the Neo Link VRAINS, he completed Ai and with mirth on his face, watched as all Ai’s data coalesced into him and his eye-like form opened.

“Welcome back.” Playmaker greeted him with his heart soaring.

“Ah. Yes. Welcome back. Because I’m back.” Ai said, in utter disbelief but there was a smile in his voice.

“You are.” Playmaker smiled and there were tears in his eyes again.

“Do I get a body as well? Or is this it for me.” Ai asked.

“You can have your body back.” Playmaker replied.

“And what about you?” Ai asked. “What’s next for you?”

“What do you mean? This is it for me.” Playmaker said.

“Are you sure? I can think of somebody you should try finding next since your so good at it. Plus, I thought it was super-uber important to humans. Like I know I’ll always be your partner buuuuut…”

Playmaker frowned but he let Ai finish his dramatic little pause uninterrupted.

“What about your soulmate?” Ai asked. “I wanna meet this Kinoshita Shinobu person.”

Playmaker’s frown deepened, “I told you. Kogami Ryoken is my soulmate, I know he has my name on his wrist.”

“I thought Spectre was Revolver-sensei’s soulmate? Wasn’t that a whole thing for a little while?” Ai asked.

“Hm…” Playmaker said and he logged out on that note.

Yusaku chose not to engage in that line of conversation any longer. Even though Ai, who was too obsessed with love stories, tried very hard to get more out of Yusaku on the topic but Yusaku was clamped shut. He had more important things to do. Like let Kusanagi know that he was fine and finish his high school diploma. That sort of thing.

All in all, he was really glad Ai was back and in his little Ignis body again, it was giving Yusaku ideas. Ai couldn’t be the only Ignis. The loneliness of it drove him to, well, extinction and though it took three months just to track down all those fragments of Dark Ignis data, it wasn’t impossible. Therefore, it probably wasn’t going to be impossible to do it all over again fivefold for the other Ignis.

They had to be out there somewhere and Takeru agreed. He wanted Flame back and Aoi agreed, she wanted Miyu and Aqua to meet. And even though they were rightfully suspicious of what would happen if Lightning or Windy were to return, both Kusanagi brothers agreed: they deserved a second chance now that their secrets were unleashed and so too were, perhaps, ways of handling them.

Although this goal, it meant giving the Knights of Hanoi the heads up so as to ease the possibility of hostility or enmity. Especially since Yusaku obviously wanted to bring Earth back and learning that Spectre hadn’t danced on his grave when he had been killed was oddly heartening. So, Yusaku set a meeting with just Ryoken and Spectre, at Cafe Nagi, of course, and that made Ai wonder.

“You gonna bring up all that soulmate schmutz at the meeting as well?” Ai asked.

“Rack off.” Yusaku replied, which was Yusaku-ese for, “If it happens, it happens.”

He was a prisoner of destiny. He quite liked that title for himself because it meant breaking free. As far as Yusaku was concerned, he was not beholden to the name on his wrist. Never had been, not once, not now, not ever and unsurprisingly, yes, the soulmate stuff did come up. It was an unfortunate but simple and true fact of life.

With all the formalities out of the way, like getting it in print and paper that no, the Knights of Hanoi will not try to kill the Ignis again were they all to resurrect, they talked about other stuff. Like food, what they wanted to order for lunch and yes, eventually that soulmate stuff that Yusaku was rightfully dreading.

Ryoken sighed, “I have two soulmates, it is true at the same time that Spectre is my soulmate and that you are, also.”

He showed off his wrists to Yusaku. Spectre had already seen them both plenty of times and so was not curious as he sipped his lemonade from a paper straw. Yusaku leaned in to examine the names on Ryoken’s wrists. He was Ryoken’s left wrist and Spectre was Ryoken’s right wrist. It was undeniably Yusaku’s handwriting, as well, which was the font his name was printed in. Then, switching his gaze over to Ryoken’s other wrist, with a little straining of his recollection, Yusaku recognised Spectre’s name as being written in the font that the Link VRAINS used for their in-game announcements.

“Huh.” Yusaku said.

“It's rare but it does happen.” Ryoken said. “I’m fine with it, of course, having two soulmates and Spectre is happy to share, but if memory serves correct… The name you have on your wrist, it isn’t mine.”

“It's not.” Yusaku defeatedly replied.

He rolled up his jacket’s sleeve and sighed. He showed off the computer typeset name of Kinoshita Shinobu but it was a name that made both Ryoken and Spectre’s eyes light up with amusement.

“I have no idea who this person is and quite frankly, I don’t want to meet them.” Yusaku declared.

Ryoken stifled a chuckle to himself.

Yusaku glared at him specifically, “And what’s that supposed to mean? I have every right to pursue or not pursue my soulmate. If you have my name and I don’t have yours, I’m happy with that. I’ll learn to share if my twin flame is Spectre.”

“Yes, well, about that.” Ryoken murmured but allowed Spectre to lead instead.

Spectre leaned over the plastic table setting and whispered something in Yusaku’s ear. Something enough to make Yusaku blush, a look that looked very odd on his sharp cheekbones and the furrow of his indignant brows. Ai perked up from inside of Yusaku’s Duel Disc, very curious as to what was just said, regrettably, out of his earshot.

What absolutely horrible, rotten, no good luck he had, Yusaku fumed.

He had heard rumours of people being born with names that their soulmates would take in the future, not necessarily the ones they were given at birth. He had heard rumours of the names on people’s wrists just swip-swapping and changing when their names changed to. This was entirely unfair and incredibly rude that he would be the exception.

“Here, I have a pen right here. You can get it properly corrected in your own time.” Spectre said.

He took Yusaku’s hand and opened up his wrist to him. Yusaku was very vehement about not having that happened and so was very stiff and prone. Spectre wrenched him open and then delicately brandished that pen. He crossed out the name Kinoshita Shinobu and replaced it with his own name written in katakana.

“Look, we match.” Spectre said and he revealed the name - or, names - on his own, matching wrist.

Yusaku looked down so Spectre could show off his now exposed wrist from underneath his jacket and blouse sleeve. Spectre had crossed out his actual soulmate mark in favour of writing Ryoken’s name underneath it. For some reason, Yusaku was utterly unfazed to see his name crossed out in favour of Ryoken’s. That seemed entirely fair to him as the ill feelings were mutual, after all.

“In a sense.” Spectre clarified.

“So, um, yes, this Kinoshita Shinobu person that you are so determined to not meet, well, your way past that point now by sitting next to him.” Ryoken joked.

Yusaku wanted to be angry and disappointed and flustered but instead he just sighed. What on Earth did he have in common with this person right beside him, touching him, writing his name on him. It was bizarre, it was unfair.

Kinoshita Shinobu and Spectre were one in the same. That made… Okay, that made more sense to him than he would have liked as he recalled what little he knew of Spectre’s past, only what he had been told, that he had been found underneath a tree. Why Shinobu? Actually, he did sort of look like a Shinobu, it was sort of in his nose, somehow, if that made any sense.

A somewhat dark thought crossed Yusaku’s mind as he thought about Spectre’s non-username. No doubt his caretakers were the ones who had dubbed him as such and hence why the kanji on the inside of Yusaku’s wrist was so neat, Spectre was likely just another form to fill out for their digital records.

What on Earth did they even have in common? They had both been abandoned as children, kidnapped and tortured as children, and they both had… Yusaku sighed. They both had something very big and very important in common, they made their own destiny, refusing to look or fall in love with their soulmate (for now) and instead, made Ryoken that person. Their most important person.

“It's unlucky to do that, you know.” Yusaku pouted.

“I didn’t realise you were superstitious.” Ryoken piped up, amused.

“I’m not. But I thought he would be.” Yusaku complained.

“I am, but not like this. I think it would be unluckier to just keel over and accept a fate that I dislike.” Spectre clarified.

“Gee, thanks.” Yusaku huffed.

“But perhaps fate had something more interesting in mind with us, all three of us.” Spectre added.

“Perhaps.” Ryoken agreed.

“I, for one, am intrigued to find out. Something about second chances, the possibility of Earth coming back, the turning over a new leaf or something like that.” Spectre mused.

“Yeah, something like that.” Yusaku grumbled.

Yusaku would still describe himself as being entirely unsatisfied with this situation. He never found his parents, he never wanted to find out who the hell Kinoshita Shinobu was despite vowing to never find them, but at least he could say he found out who was behind the Lost Incident and why it had occurred. It seemed like a hollow victory but he had Ryoken again. That meant a lot to him and clearly, the universe wanted his absolute moral and ethical inverse to mean a lot to him as well.

So perhaps, indeed, they would work something out. Yusaku might just do as Spectre suggested and get Ryoken’s name on the inner of his other wrist and update the name Kinoshita Shinobu to better relate to Spectre.

#multiamorymarch2023 #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #saviorshipping #yusaku fujiki #fujiki yusaku #ryoken kogami #kogami ryoken #spectre (vrains)#soulmate au #writing tag #placed under a tree; enduring against an unwanted mark

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63824peace · 5 years

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Wednesday, 2nd of november 2005

I am not a maiden--I am a man. Yet I am an Otome-za, one born beneath the astrological sign of the Virgin.

I only bear this trait because I was born on August 24. If I had been born a few days later, I would have been born under the Lion. When I was a boy I would lie that I was a Leo. Obviously, Leo sounded better than Virgo. My boyhood friends used to say, "Hide-chan, you're a Leo? Lucky!" They envied my lie.

Kids think that Leo is cooler than livestock constellations such as Taurus the Bull, Aries the Ram, and Capricorn the Goat. They likewise prefer Leo to smaller animal constellations like Pisces the Fish, Cancer the Crab, and Scorpio the Scorpion.

I don't care about that stuff anymore. After all, I'm forty years old. Today I think that an Otome-za is just as fine as anything else under the heavens.

I turned on the television news this morning and noticed a program called Today's Horoscope. This really irritated me. I don't want someone else to decide my day's future so early in the morning.

For me it's not an issue of belief or disbelief. I simply don't want to hear anything like, "Virgos should expect such-and-such things to happen." It will haunt me throughout the day.

I usually take a bathroom break or busy myself otherwise whenever Today's Horoscope starts. I don't mind hearing my fortune if my star is in a good position, but I feel terrible all day if the outlook is dour.

I was too slow this morning. I heard my horoscope.

According to the program, Virgo currently holds the fourth position among the twelve zodiacal signs. That's certainly not bad-but neither is it particularly good. I would have been quite nervous had I needed to deliver our "sons" to Aoyama today.

However, I received the advice, "You should eat ramen today." So I walked to the restaurant Gogyo in Tokyo's Nishi Azabu district. I hadn't been there in a while. I ordered a jumbo-sized ramen in scorched soy sauce, with a bowl of rice and chashao topping.

I can't deny that today's horoscope floated through my mind. I thought that Fortune might smile upon me if I ate ramen. After all, that's what my horoscope recommended.

I ate with high hopes for good tidings. Then I splashed and stained my shirt with soup from my scorched soy sauce ramen.

Is this supposed to be a sign of good luck?

I bought a copy of Yusaku Matsuda: the Complete Collection at the bookstore. The book used to sell only online, so it's a pretty rare find. Now they're reprinting it to sell in stores.

Mr. Yusaku Matsuda is greater than an actor or a celebrity idol... he is one of my generation's heroes. I esteem him as highly as Steve McQueen. I was attracted to more than just his performance and his looks. I admired his whole way of life.

I wonder if we'll ever see an actor like him again. The thought occurs to me every time I turn a page, see his picture, or read his words.

He flew from this world so young... he was only thirty-nine years old. I suddenly realized that I'm already older than him.

We held our second brainstorming session for the new project.

...what? Shinta and the prospective future director are absent.

Okamura apologized. "They've been working hard these days."

So what did yesterday's parting words even mean?! My thoughts clicked to the fact that the Virgin holds the fourth zodiacal slot.

I had no choice then but to enter the glass room with Okamura and Murashu, and Murashu isn't even involved with the project. At that point only four people (including myself) knew the project's details. I started explaining the outline to Murashu.

Now five people know about it. I'll limit my number of confidantes to these five only. It's better to involve only a few people. When we create a game, we must protect the core idea above everything else.

We conversed for about an hour. The project has an original concept as well as a deep technical side. We naturally focused our conversation on the technical aspects. We need to develop the concept and the technological feasibility independent of each other. I'll test the concept along with the actual program once our missing team members return.

By the end, our meeting had turned from a brainstorming session into a presentation of the idea to Murashu. I asked his opinion, and he said, "Looks interesting." His eyes sparkled.

In my experience, mediocre projects are usually accepted and admired during their drafting stages. Really original projects receive a lot of skeptical criticism. The Metal Gear Solid games and Boktai were ripped to pieces at first.

Maybe this project won't turn out so well after all.

Something good happened while I ate ramen. Ms. Ayumi Kinoshita visited my office to cover a story for GS Satellite. They will publish the story in mid-November.

We haven't seen each other since TGS a little over a month ago. She has changed her hair style since then--she's adopted a more boyish look.

I think that she's prettier like this.

I had her experience the TOBIDAC!D version of herself that will fly out toward our audience.

Let me illustrate the 3D mechanism for HIDEOBLOG's readers. It looks like this without TOBIDAC!D attached.

She gave me her autograph at TGS.

I have mentioned my admiration for Da Vinci on various occasions recently. I know I've mentioned it during interviews and in articles that I've written. The gallery at the Hills has hosted the Leonardo Da Vinci Exhibition since September, and they have Da Vinci's Codex Leicester.

The Mori Arts Center has the authentic Codex Leicester (owned by Mr. Bill Gates) on display. This marks the book's first visit to Japan.

The event was probably precipitated by the influence of the popular novel The Da Vinci Code. Still, the chance to see the Codex doesn't come along often. I can't pass this up. I may never see it again in my whole life if I don't go now.

I want to see it no matter what the cost.

The exhibition will remain open until November 13. For weeks I have said to myself, "The exhibition is just next door, so I can see it any time I please." Then today I reflected on my actual situation. I realized that I wouldn't have much time to see it, due to responsibilities like next week's business trip to Korea. Today is my last chance.

"I'm in a tight spot!"

I panicked.

"Well, all right... it looks like I don't have anything left to do... I only need to walk over and see it now."

I saw Murashu right when I thought this. It occurred to me that we had gone shopping together earlier, and that I've set aside today to spend with him.

Perhaps Murashu ranks fourth in my own destiny like I rank fourth in the Zodiac. The zodiacal fourth rank is neither particularly good nor bad, so Murashu shouldn't bring bad luck... though he certainly won't bring much good fortune either.

Fortunately the exhibition stays open until 10 P.M. during November. I can make it in time even if I leave at this late hour. They probably extended the hours so that people can access the panoramic viewing platform. It's the time of the season for stargazing.

Murashu and I headed to the Da Vinci Exhibition.

The exhibition hall was more crowded than one might expect at this hour. Half of the folks were couples trying to enjoy the shadows for a bit of romance. The other people were legitimate Da Vinci fans.

The real Da Vinci fans came alone, age or sex regardless. They emanated a sort of frenzied, vibrant air from their bodies.

Honestly, I couldn't care less about the handholding couples. The guys are likely preoccupied with thoughts like, "I'll hook up with her tonight for sure!"

I couldn't entirely accept the serious art fanatics' company either. They're a tough bunch. They tended to stick in one place, right in front of the exhibition displays. They hogged the informational areas. They wouldn't give up their places easily. And still... as a Da Vinci lover myself, I felt a strange and deep affection for them when I saw their obstinate passion.

I momentarily fell under the illusion that I was in the Ueno Art Museum rather than the Hills.

I saw the actual Codex Leicester. It's definitely five centuries old. Strong light would damage the materials, so they are kept under soft light for fixed intervals only.

People formed a wall in front of the manuscript while it was lighted. The light snapped off after a fixed amount of time, and then it clicked on again. The process repeated over and over.

The total display consisted of eighteen sheets of paper pressed individually between panes of glass, so that a total of thirty-six leaves were displayed. Each sheet of paper was dimly lit within an individual booth, and then it returned to darkness. The light and darkness alternated at irregular intervals.

Visitors flitted to the lighted booths like moths making shadows out of a light bulb's midsummer gloam. It was pretty difficult to see the pages in sequence.

The exhibition conditions also required reduced humidity and temperature, so it was quite cold. A man needed patience and fortitude to see everything. Once in a while, though, if I stood in front of a darkened booth, the light would turn on as though greeting my presence. Occasionally the intervals of light corresponded with my movement. It must have been coincidental, but I still felt as though I had touched Da Vinci in those moments.

I bought a booklet featuring a replica of the Codex Leicester. I also bought various goods relating to the Vitruvian Man. I love that drawing.

I took my newly purchased replica of the Codex Leicester in hand after I returned to the office. "Perhaps there is something in here written about Hideo," I mused.

I looked among the mirrored script and rough sketches, but of course I found nothing. I couldn't have found what I looked for, and I knew that. I just have this strange delusion sometimes.

I become enamored by handwriting's charm when I look through the Codex Leicester and Yusaku Matsuda: the Complete Collection. Characters penned by hand have distinct expressions. Perhaps those expressions embody characteristics of the person who set the characters in ink... his perception, strength, peculiar idiosyncrasies, emotions, and even his facial expressions. The script evokes an awareness of more than silent words. We can see the visual presence of the ideas behind the writing, and we can hear the sounds behind the words.

Kadokawa Press published a complementary book for the whole MGS mythos in 2004 titled Metal Gear Solid Naked. I wrote the book's preface in my own handwriting. That was head editor Mr. Yano's idea.

I initially protested the suggestion since my handwriting is so awful. Writing by hand makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable.

Encountering the Codex Leicester makes me think now that Mr. Yano had the right idea.

The 21st century will use digital writing preserved on personal computers as its standard archiving medium. The letters appear as they should; they're impervious to fluctuations in light and temperature; and they won't deteriorate in time.

They are practically eternal records… yet they lack charm.

Da Vinci wrote in mirrored characters... he wrote completely backwards. Even though we can't read them easily, the pressure of a pen stroke and the gaps between lines and letters give us a sense of the words' spirits. Da Vinci lives in each drawn character.

As an example of my larger point, suppose that HIDEOBLOG were to go on display after five centuries. I feel disappointed just imagining it... the sentences will line up too perfectly.

Nothing can match the impact of handwritten diaries and articles.

I hope that someone in the future invents a device that can create something akin to handwriting. It should be a digital device that operates like an analog device. It could change the color, shape, and size of the script according to measurements of the writer's emotional and physical condition. I would want this new machine to record the writer's sensations and physical environment in addition to letters.

At night I swam in the gym.

Back at home, I wrote my blog while listening to L'Arc-en-Ciel's album Awake and Hyde's single Countdown.

The day that my horoscope called "fourth rank" concluded without incident. It wasn't that bad, all in all.

Tonight I conversed with Da Vinci, five centuries gone. I sensed that I heard his voice speaking to me....

"Hideo, you don't need to be recognized and fully appreciated just yet. A day will come when you are truly understood. Continue writing HIDEOBLOG until then.

"Come on... it doesn't even need to be handwritten...."

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