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London, 1888.
The fog hung low over Whitechapel, dense and spectral, as if the very city mourned the blood spilled on its cobblestones. Gaslights flickered in protest against the biting wind, casting long shadows that moved like silent witnesses to murder. And somewhere, in the heart of this haunted borough, two figures stepped from a carriage—one tall, commanding, and intense; the other quiet, thoughtful, and haunted by loyalty.
Dr. Mikaela Shindou adjusted his coat as he stepped into the alleyway behind Miller’s Court. The stench of iron and decay met him like a punch. Another woman was butchered—another message, scrawled in blood.
And beside him, Detective Yuuichirou Amane crouched over the body, strangely composed. His dark curls were damp from mist, and his emerald eyes glittered with sharp calculation.
Mika: (softly, clutching his notebook) “She’s the fifth, Yuu. It’s… she’s been carved to pieces.”
Yuu: (without looking up) “No. She’s the sixth. You forget Annie Chapman.”
Mika: (swallowing) “Of course.”
Yuu stood, his gloved fingers flecked with blood as he plucked a playing card—the Jack of Spades—from the corpse’s open palm. He turned it between his fingers with an eerily childlike curiosity.
Yuu: “He’s getting bolder. Leaving tokens, signatures, taunts.”
“It’s almost theatrical. Like he’s… enjoying it.”
Mika: “You sound as if you admire him.”
Yuu smirked faintly, then turned toward his partner with a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.
Yuu: “Not admiration, Mika. Appreciation. There’s a difference.”
“To understand a killer, one must step inside his mind. Gaze through his eyes. Walk his path.”
Mika: (firmly) “You’ve walked far enough in it, Yuu. I don’t want it to take you.”
A silence stretched between them. Then Yuu looked away, tucking the card into his pocket.
Three Days Later
Baker Street, 221 B. Midnight.
The fire crackled in the hearth. Papers were strewn across the floor—crime scene photos, maps, witness statements. Mikaela poured two glasses of scotch and handed one to Yuu, who hadn’t moved in hours. He sat, legs crossed in his armchair, eyes closed, muttering incoherently.
Mika: “You haven’t slept.”
Yuu: “Sleep is a coward’s escape from a waking nightmare.”
Mika: “Yuu.”
He opened one eye and took the glass, sipping with a graceful flick of his wrist.
Yuu: “Tell me, Doctor. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like?”
“To take a life?”
Mika: (stiffens) “You’re tired. Don’t talk like that.”
Yuu: (murmuring) “Tired? No. I’ve never felt more awake.”
Something in Yuu’s gaze shifted. For a brief moment, Mika saw a flicker of something alien behind his eyes. Not madness—no, something worse. Something cold. Detached. Ancient.
But then it was gone.
Yuu: “You trust me, don’t you?”
Mika: “With my life.”
Yuu: “Then stay by me. No matter what I do… promise me that.”
Mika: (quietly) “Yuu, what are you saying?”
Yuu: “Nothing.” (smiles faintly) “A foolish whim. Ignore me.”
The Letter
On November 9th, 1888, a letter arrived at Scotland Yard.
“I am not a butcher, I am not a Yid, nor yet a foreign skipper.
But I am your own dear Yuu—
Yours truly, from Hell.”
—Signed: The Ripper.
Yuu watched the officers fuss over the letter, eyes unreadable, lips curled in amusement that he quickly masked with a cough.
Mika stood beside him, pale and stiff.
Mika: “That name. ‘Yuu.’ That’s not a coincidence.”
Yuu: (shrugging) “It’s a common enough sound. Besides, if I were the Ripper, would I really be so careless?”
Mika: (suspicious) “You tell me.”
Yuu: (softly, leaning in) “You don’t want the truth, Mika. Not really.”
Mika’s heart skipped. But the moment passed. The fog returned.
Later That Night
221B again.
Yuu sat alone, candlelight flickering over his sharp features. A scalpel lay on the table. A bloodied glove beside it.
And then he heard it.
A whisper.
“Yuuichirou…”
But it wasn’t Mika.
It came from inside him.
Yuu: (whispers) “You said you wouldn’t come back.”
The Voice (alternate persona): “She was just another flower in the fog, Yuu. And you… You love how she wilted. You needed her to wilt.”
Yuu: “Shut up. He’ll hear. Mika—he trusts me.”
The Voice: “For now. But what happens when he sees the blade in your hand?”
Yuu’s hands trembled. Then steadied.
Yuu: “He won’t. He mustn’t.”
He reached for the scalpel. Not to harm. Just to hold.
Part II: “Beneath the Veil”
London, Late November 1888
The first snow had fallen, layering the city in deceptive purity. White over rot. Stillness over screams.
Inside 221B Baker Street, Dr. Mikaela Shindou stared down at the velvet-lined drawer of Yuuichirou’s writing desk.
It was locked.
Yuu never locked anything.
Mika (thinking): “You’re hiding something, Yuu. And I’m going to find it—because I have to believe you’re not… that.”
He slid a thin metal tool from his pocket—something Yuu had taught him to use for lock-picking, years ago, on a rainy night full of laughter.
It clicked open.
Inside lay an assortment of disturbing things: pressed newspaper clippings from every Ripper murder, blood-stained gloves, a fine scalpel too delicate for autopsy... and tucked between the papers—
A journal.
Mika turned the leather cover slowly.
The handwriting inside began elegant, precise. But then, halfway through a page, the style shifted. Rough. Erratic. Violent.
*“She screamed like a dying gull. The sound thrilled me—*thrilled us. Mika wouldn’t understand. He never will. But he’ll stay. He always does.”
—Y.A. / Yuu No. 2
Mikaela snapped the book shut, heart hammering.
That Evening
Mika didn’t confront him. Not yet.
He returned everything to its place, locked the drawer again, and spent the rest of the day watching Yuu from across the room as the detective paced, muttered, and wrote theories on the chalkboard.
Yuu: “The Ripper’s pattern is deteriorating. Less precision. More mess. He’s unraveling.”
Mika: (staring) “Is he?”
Yuu: (pauses, turns slowly) “What’s gotten into you, Mika? You’re pale as snow.”
Mika: “I had a strange dream last night.”
Yuu: “Oh? Was I in it?”
Mika: “Yes. But… it wasn’t really you.”
Yuu smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes.
Midnight
Mikaela stirred awake.
He hadn’t meant to doze off. The fire had dimmed. The wind howled like a dying beast beyond the windows.
Then—footsteps.
Slow. Soft.
Mika turned his head and froze.
Yuu stood in front of the hearth, silhouetted by orange glow, his back to Mika.
He wasn’t wearing his usual clothes. He wore a long dark coat stained with something dark. His right hand twitched rhythmically, as though squeezing something invisible.
Mika: “Yuu…?”
The figure turned.
It was Yuu, and yet not. His posture was wrong—rigid, too tall, too poised. His eyes were distant, unfocused.
Then he smiled.
A grotesque parody of his usual grin. Wild. Hungry.
Yuu (Other): “Doctor. Awake so late? Or are you always watching me like this?”
Mika stood slowly.
Mika: “Yuu, what are you—what’s wrong with you?”
Yuu (Other): “Wrong? Why is it always wrong when I feel alive?”
(stepping closer) “He keeps me buried, you know. But I bleed through. I always do.”
Mika: (whispers) “Who are you?”
Yuu (Other): (tilts his head) “You already know. You’ve always known. But you’re too soft to accept it. You want to save him.”
(smiling wider) “You think love will make this disappear.”
Mika: (clutching a poker from the hearth) “Stay back.”
For a moment, the being stared at him—then blinked.
The smile faded.
Yuu blinked again. His posture sagged. His voice returned to normal.
Yuu: “Mika? Why are you holding that? Is something wrong?”
Mika: (breath shaking) “Yuu… you don’t remember, do you?”
Yuu: “What are you talking about? I—I was asleep. You look terrified.”
Mika wanted to cry.
Instead, he reached out and placed a trembling hand on Yuu’s cheek.
Mika: “Go back to bed, Yuu. You’re… just tired.”
Yuu: (nodding slowly) “Yeah. Maybe I am.”
Later, Alone in the Kitchen
Mika gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white.
Mika (thinking): “He doesn’t know. Or… maybe he does, and he’s hiding it.”
“But that wasn’t just a sleepwalker. That was someone else.”
He looked down at the journal pages he had secretly copied before returning the original.
“Yuu-chan… what are you?”
Part III: “Those Who Bleed But Do Not Die”
December 1888 — London.
It began with Shinoa Hiiragi.
She was a friend. A bright, sarcastic flame Mikaela had known since university. The kind of person who could make Yuu laugh when even he was drowning in darkness.
Now she was in St. Bartholomew’s, swathed in gauze. A deep gash across her left shoulder. Non-fatal, but brutal.
Mika: (quietly, seated at her bedside) “Did you see who it was?”
Shinoa: (hollow chuckle) “Didn’t see his face. Just his voice. Cold. Empty. Not human.”
“He said, ‘Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.’”
Mika’s stomach dropped.
That night, he returned to 221B and found Yuu asleep in his armchair, the fireplace casting long, eerie shadows across his features.
But it wasn’t peaceful sleep.
He was twitching. Lips moving in silent words. Fingers curling like claws.
Mika: (whispers) “Yuu-chan… please, wake up.”
Yuu snapped awake, gasping like a drowning man. His eyes were glassy, fogged. But then they landed on Mika.
And something cleared.
Yuu-chan: “Mika… your hand is shaking.”
Mika: (forcing a smile) “I’m alright. Just tired.”
Yuu’s eyes lingered on him. Guilt bloomed across his expression like bruises under porcelain skin.
Yuu-chan: (softly) “Did I… was I gone again?”
Mika: “Not for long.”
They sat in silence.
A Week Later
Guren Ichinose was next.
He’d only come to visit. A former military contact, once Yuu’s mentor. Mika invited him to tea, hoping to ground his spiraling world with logic and clarity.
That evening, Guren was attacked just outside the building.
Stabbed in the thigh. Two ribs broken. But alive.
Guren: (grimacing, whispering to Mika) “He said, ‘Mika is mine.’”
“Your pet detective’s losing it.”
Mika barely made it home before vomiting.
That Night
Mika watched Yuu sleep again, unable to stop shaking.
Mika: (to himself) “Yuuichirou is hurting them. Everyone close to me.”
He couldn’t confront him. Not yet.
But he began compiling evidence. Notes. Timelines. Patterns. He marked every date and hour Yuuichirou attacked, and compared it with moments Yuu-chan had blacked out or appeared dazed.
The overlaps were almost perfect.
Mika: (scribbling) “It’s you. But not you. I still believe… I still believe you can be saved.”
The Breaking Point
It was Ferid.
Mika’s estranged cousin, charming and infuriating, had come to London briefly. He knew nothing of the case, just wanted to reconnect.
But he ended up on the steps of Mika’s flat, bleeding from a long gash down his back. Not deep enough to kill. But meant to scar.
Ferid had managed to crawl there.
Ferid: (weakly) “He said your name, you know.”
“‘Mikaela.’ Like a curse. Or a prayer.”
Mika screamed into his pillow that night.
The Shattered Heart
That night, Yuu didn’t return.
Mika waited. All night.
Just before dawn, the door creaked open.
Yuu stood there, drenched in blood and rain. His eyes were empty. Shoulders trembling.
Mika: “Yuuichirou.”
That name cut through the silence like a dagger.
Yuu flinched.
Yuu: (low, hollow voice) “Why would you call me that?”
Mika: “Because that’s who you are right now.”
Yuu stepped into the light. The blood on his coat was not his.
Yuu: (dark grin) “I didn’t kill them. You should thank me. Killing them would mean losing you. I’m not stupid.”
Mika: “You’re hurting them.”
Yuu: “Because they take you from me.”
Mika: “They don’t! You’re the one pushing me away—he is.”
Yuu: “He. You mean me.” (smiling wider) “Don’t pretend you don’t know, Doctor.”
Mika’s hands balled into fists.
Mika: “Then look me in the eye and say it. Tell me who you are.”
Yuu’s lips twitched.
Then… something changed.
His eyes shifted.
His breathing slowed.
He blinked—and Yuu-chan returned.
His legs gave out. He collapsed onto his knees before Mika.
Yuu-chan: (voice breaking) “I—I’m so sorry. Mika, I didn’t mean to— I tried to stop him. I did.”
Mika: (kneeling, cupping his face) “I know. I know, Yuu-chan. I’m still here. I won’t leave you.”
Tears traced down Yuu’s cheeks. He shook in Mika’s arms.
Yuu-chan: “He’s winning, Mika. I can feel it. Every time I close my eyes, I’m afraid… when I wake up, you’ll be gone.”
Mika: (softly) “I’m not leaving. But you have to let me help you. Please.”
Yuu didn’t answer.
He just wept.
Part IV: “The Final Request”
January 1889 — The fog over London never lifts now. Even the lamplight seems afraid to burn.
The last murder sent the city into chaos.
It was a young boy this time. Barely twelve. Found in Whitechapel alley, throat slashed—but still alive. Barely.
The papers screamed:
“Jack the Ripper Returns—And This Time, a Child.”
Yuu didn’t come home for two days.
When he finally did, Mikaela was waiting—sitting in the dim light of the flat, fire long since turned to embers. His hands clenched, his eyes swollen from weeping, praying, fearing.
Yuu entered slowly. His coat was torn. His knuckles bruised.
He looked so much older.
Mika: (quietly) “Where were you?”
Yuu didn’t answer.
He just walked past him and dropped to his knees before the hearth like he had no bones in his body. His fingers hovered toward the flames but didn’t touch.
Yuu-chan: “I stayed away because… I knew you’d look at me like this.”
Mika: (voice cracking) “Yuu-chan…”
Yuu finally looked at him.
His eyes were haunted. Nothing manic. Just hollow. The kind of emptiness that comes after screaming for help in your own head and never being heard.
Yuu-chan: “He hurt a child, Mika. I swore—I promised—I would never let him do that. But I’m losing.”
Mika: (moving to his side) “He didn’t kill the boy. That means you were still in there. Somewhere.”
Yuu-chan: (barely audible) “But for how much longer…?”
A silence bloomed between them, thick as blood.
Yuu-chan: “Mika.” (looking him dead in the eyes) “I need you to listen to me. I need you to promise me something.”
Mika: “Anything. Anything.”
Yuu reached into his coat and pulled out his revolver. The one Mika had cleaned so many times. He placed it gently between them like a sacrificial offering.
Yuu-chan: “If he takes me completely… if I ever kill again—really kill—”
Mika: (horrified) “Yuu, no—”
Yuu-chan: “Please. Let me say this.” (voice trembling) “I need to say it while I’m still me.”
Mika swallowed the scream rising in his throat.
Yuu-chan: “I know you love me. I know you still believe in me. But I’m asking you… if Yuuichirou kills again… I want you to be the one to end it.”
Mika: “Don’t ask me that—please—”
Yuu-chan: “Mika.” (grabs his hand) “You’re the only one I trust. The only one I’d want to hold me… in the end.”
Mika: “Yuu-chan, you don’t understand—if I lose you, I—”
Yuu-chan: “What I want… is for you to save my heart.” (tears spilling now)
“I’m tired. I’m so, so tired. Every night he fights me. Every night I feel him sharpen his knives inside my skin. I wake up with blood under my nails and faces I don’t recognize in my dreams.”
(voice breaking) “I’m afraid to sleep, Mika. I’m afraid one day, I’ll wake up and you’ll already be gone, or worse—he’ll have used your body like he used mine.”
Mika: (tears falling) “Stop, please stop—”
Yuu-chan: “It’s only a matter of time before I disappear for good. And when that happens—when he wins—I want to know that you’ll stop him. That you’ll end it… before he takes everything we were and stains it in blood.”
Yuu-chan: (leans forward, forehead pressed against Mika’s)
“Please… grant me this final selfish request…”
Yuu-chan: (soft, pleading)
“Kill me.”
Mika collapsed forward into him, holding him like he was trying to hold time still.
They wept together. No words. No comfort.
Just pain.
Mika didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
Yuu already knew.
That Night
Mika stood over Yuu’s sleeping form, watching his chest rise and fall.
The revolver sat on the mantle.
Loaded.
The fire cracked softly beside it.
Mika (thinking):
“I made a vow once—to do no harm.”
“But what do I do when harm is the only mercy left?”
“You saved my life a thousand times, Yuu-chan. Now… you’re asking me to save yours by ending it.”
He didn’t sleep.
Just watched over him.
The man he loved.
The man he might one day have to kill.
Part V: “Make Me Your Last”
February 1889 — London was quiet that night. Too quiet.
There were no screams in Whitechapel.
No panicked cries.
Only silence.
And Mikaela knew.
Something was wrong.
He burst through the door of their flat, calling out, “Yuu-chan?” but there was no answer. The fire had burned itself out. The air smelled faintly of copper and something more sinister—fear.
That’s when he heard the soft, deliberate footsteps behind him.
Mikaela turned.
And he knew instantly.
This wasn’t his Yuu-chan.
It was him.
Yuuichirou.
His eyes were wild. His hair disheveled. The blade in his hand gleamed with anticipation.
Yuuichirou: “So predictable. You came alone.”
Mika: (quietly) “Of course I did.”
Yuuichirou: (mocking) “Still playing the martyr, I see. Still hoping your precious Yuu-chan will come back and make everything right.”
He stepped closer. Mika didn’t move.
Yuuichirou: “He’s weak, Mika. He’s always been weak. But I—I’ve protected him. Shielded him. Given him what he could never take for himself.”
Mika: “By slaughtering innocents?”
Yuuichirou: (smiling darkly) “By taking control.”
The blade rose.
But Mikaela didn’t flinch.
Mika: “Then do it.”
Yuuichirou faltered, just a fraction.
Yuuichirou: “What?”
Mika: (stepping forward, eyes gentle) “If you’re going to kill me, do it now. But promise me something first.”
Yuuichirou: (his voice shaking) “You’re not afraid?”
Mika: “Of dying? Maybe. But I’m more afraid of losing you both.”
Yuuichirou's hand trembled, blade hovering above Mika’s heart.
Mika: “I’ve always loved you. No matter who you are.”
Yuuichirou: (bitter) “You loved him. Not me.”
Mika: “You’re two halves of the same soul, Yuuichirou. I can’t love Yuu-chan without embracing you, too.”
Yuuichirou’s breath hitched. Something in him cracked.
Mika: “You want me? Then take me. But promise me… I’ll be your last. No more blood. No more death. End it with me.”
Mika: (smiling through tears) “Make me your last… okay?”
Mika: “I love you.”
Yuuichirou's scream was raw. Animalistic.
He slammed the blade down—
—
But it never reached Mika.
It stopped inches from his chest.
Yuuichirou had collapsed.
Falling to his knees.
Sobbing.
Yuuichirou: “I… I can’t. I can’t hurt you.”
Yuuichirou: “Why do you look at me like that? Like I’m worth saving…”
Mika: (holding him close) “Because you are.”
They stayed there, trembling in each other’s arms. The storm outside raged, but inside… the war had stilled.
At least for now.
Epilogue:
Yuuichirou turned himself in.
Mika walked beside him to Scotland Yard.
He gave his full confession, both as a detective and a killer. The court didn’t know what to make of a man with two souls.
He was sentenced to life in an asylum far from the city, away from sharp objects and shadows.
Mika visits every week.
Sometimes, Yuu-chan is there, smiling weakly with his tea.
Other days, Yuuichirou stares at him through the glass, eyes cold—but never cruel again.
Because he kept his promise.
Mika was his last.
But Mika survived.
And maybe, just maybe…
That’s why Yuuichirou weeps every time he sees him—
—Because love saved them both, in the end.
Part VI: “The Final Letter”
March 1899 – Ten years since Whitechapel bled.
The world had moved on.
The Ripper was just a ghost now, spoken of only in fading papers and drunken stories told in the wrong taverns.
Mikaela Shindou never stopped visiting the asylum.
Even when Yuu stopped recognizing him.
Even when the staff gently suggested, “Perhaps it’s best to let go.”
He never did.
And then—one grey morning—Mika received the letter.
It was hand-delivered. No postage. No return address.
Just a thin envelope, sealed in faded red wax.
His name was written in that unmistakable scrawl:
"Dr. Mikaela Shindou"
He opened it slowly. Inside, a folded parchment. A faint scent of cedar and something warmer beneath—like sun-dried ink and regret.
The writing was uneven. As if the hand that wrote it trembled with every word.
My dearest Mika,
If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone.
Not the monster. Not the mask. Just me.
Yuu-chan.
I asked the doctor to give this to you when my mind fully left or my body did. I suppose it doesn't matter now which came first.
There’s something I never told you.
Something I couldn’t say—because I was afraid you'd stop loving me.
And I was so greedy for your love, Mika. Even when I didn’t deserve it.
The truth is… I knew everything from the very beginning.
I knew the moment I woke up with blood on my sleeves after the first murder.
I knew the moment you asked, “What kind of man could do this?” and I looked away.
I let you chase a ghost, when the real monster sat beside you every night. I let you believe I was the hero.
But you never once looked at me with fear.
You looked at me like I was whole. Like I was still worth saving.
And maybe, in those moments… I was.
You asked me once what I wanted.
“What I want is for you to save my heart,” I said.
But you did more than that.
You gave me the only peace I ever knew.
You stayed.
You loved me.
You saw both sides of me—and chose to hold them both.
That’s what love really is, isn’t it?
Not blind. Not perfect.
But unflinching.
If there's another life after this...
I hope I return as someone who can love you properly.
Someone who doesn’t hurt you.
Until then, live. Please, live.
Love the way I never could.
And if you ever hear footsteps in fog, or the faint sound of a violin playing alone—
Don’t be afraid.
It’s just me.
Always yours,
Yuu-chan
Mika clutched the letter to his chest.
And for the first time in ten years…
He wept.
But they weren’t tears of grief.
They were tears of release.
Final Scene:
Later that week, Mika stood by the edge of the Thames. The fog curled around his boots.
He lit a small lantern. Inside it, a folded paper burned softly—Yuu’s final words turning into glowing ash.
“Goodnight, detective,” Mika whispered.
And in the fog… far off…
a single violin note played.
Then silence.
Then peace.
A love that defied darkness. A tragedy laced with mercy.
A detective… and his final case:
his own heart.
Reincarnation AU – Part I: “I Finally Found You”
April 2025 – Tokyo, Japan. Spring light streamed through the wide windows of the Shibuya Central Library.
The scent of old books mixed with cherry blossoms wafted in from the streets. It was peaceful here—warm, quiet, sun-dappled.
Mikaela Shindou sat hunched over his laptop in the back corner, chewing absently on the cap of his pen. His thesis draft lay open, full of red-inked comments from his professor. He barely read them.
He was tired. His chest ached.
For weeks now, he’d had dreams he couldn’t explain—dreams of fog, blood, and violins echoing in the night. Of chasing someone he loved through twisted alleys.
Of a name he whispered in sleep:
“Yuu-chan…”
He didn’t know why the name made his heart twist. Or why, when he walked into this library for the first time last week, he’d felt like he was coming home.
He thought maybe it was stress.
Maybe it was just his imagination.
Until today.
Until he looked up from his laptop and saw him.
A young man, early 30s, maybe, cheerfully organizing books by the window. He wore a dark blue cardigan, glasses perched on his nose, and had a golden retriever keychain dangling from his ID lanyard. He laughed softly as he balanced a stack of books too tall for logic.
And Mikaela’s heart stopped.
That laugh.
That voice.
That face.
He stood slowly, trembling. The world around him quieted. Everything blurred—except him.
The man turned, blinking when he saw Mika approaching.
Mika’s voice broke on a whisper, choked with emotion:
Mika: “I finally found you…”
Mika: “Yuu-chan…”
The man blinked, confusion flashing across his face. He tilted his head, smiling apologetically.
Yuuichirou: “Ah—sorry, do I know you?”
Mika’s eyes filled with tears.
Mika: (softly) “No… Not yet.”
Yuuichirou: (gently, noticing the tears) “Hey… Are you okay? Do you need help?”
He stepped forward instinctively, reaching out with genuine concern, brows furrowed.
Mika stared at him—at those gentle green eyes, so different from the madness they once held… and yet somehow, still the same.
Mika: (voice shaking) “You’re… You’re happy, aren’t you?”
Yuuichirou: (chuckling softly) “I mean… I guess so? I’ve got books, coffee, and my golden retriever at home. Not much to complain about.”
Mika: “Golden retriever?”
Yuuichirou: “Yeah—her name’s Miso. She likes cuddles and chicken nuggets.”
Mika choked on a laugh, wiping his eyes.
Of course, Yuu-chan would love dogs in this life.
Yuuichirou: “Are you a student? You don’t look okay. Want some water or—?”
Mika: (smiling sadly) “I’m okay now. Just… seeing you hit me harder than I expected.”
Yuuichirou: “We’ve definitely never met, right?”
Mika: “Not in this life.”
Yuuichirou stared at him.
For a fleeting second—just a second—his smile faded. His eyes softened. He looked at Mika like he almost remembered. Like something deep inside him stirred.
But then he blinked.
And it was gone.
Yuuichirou: “Well… I’m Yuuichirou. Yuu for short. I guess we’re meeting for the first time?”
Mika: (softly) “Yes… again.”
Yuuichirou: (smiling warmly) “Then let’s make it a good first meeting.”
He extended his hand.
And when Mika took it, a jolt ran through both of them.
Like touching lightning. Like coming home.
Reincarnation AU – Part II: “You Always Loved the Rain”
April melted into May.
Yuuichirou and Mika saw each other almost every day.
Mika never pushed. Never told him the truth.
Because the truth wouldn’t make sense to someone whose soul had forgotten the weight of a blade and the echo of a violin in bloodstained fog.
So Mika waited.
He waited with tea. With smiles. With conversations over thesis drafts and rain-drenched walks to the train station.
And Yuu?
Yuu found himself drawn to Mika in ways he couldn’t explain.
“It’s strange,” he told Mika one evening, seated behind the front desk. “You feel... familiar.”
“Like déjà vu?” Mika asked, gaze gentle.
“More like… I miss you, but I don’t know why.”
Mika didn’t answer.
He just looked out the window where the rain was falling.
One week later
Yuu knocked on Mika’s dorm room door, holding two takeout bags and a drenched umbrella.
“You forgot your charger again,” he said, lifting it like a trophy.
“You walked in the rain just for this?” Mika blinked, laughing. “You always loved the rain.”
“Always?” Yuu paused.
Mika’s smile faltered just a little. But then he stepped aside to let him in.
Inside, violin music played softly from his laptop speakers.
“Is that...?” Yuu tilted his head.
“You used to play it,” Mika whispered before he could stop himself.
Yuu froze.
He turned toward the music slowly. And suddenly, he wasn’t in a dorm room anymore.
He was in a dark alley. Cobblestone. Fog. Blood on his hands.
And someone was screaming his name—
"Yuu-chan!"
He gasped and stumbled back, grabbing the table for support.
“Hey—hey!” Mika rushed to him. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Yuu’s breaths came short. His hands trembled.
“What the hell was that?” he murmured.
“A memory,” Mika said quietly. “A real one.”
Yuu looked up at him.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who never stopped waiting for you.”
“What… are you?”
“Someone who loved you. Even when you couldn’t love yourself.”
Yuu looked shattered.
And inside him, something whispered:
Run.
But another voice—gentler, more familiar—said:
Stay.
“I’m scared,” he admitted.
“I know,” Mika said. “So was he. So was the you I knew before.”
Yuu swallowed hard.
“He... hurt people. I saw it. I was him, wasn’t I?”
“You were both,” Mika whispered. “You still are. But this time… you’re free.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m here. And I’ll never let you lose yourself again.”
Later that night, when Yuu finally fell asleep on Mika’s couch, exhausted from emotion, soul aching, Mika tucked a blanket over him and whispered:
“Welcome back, Yuu-chan.”
Yuu didn’t stir.
But a tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
And in his dreams, someone called to him across the mist.
“Don’t be afraid. You’re safe now.”
Reincarnation AU – Part III: “Stay With Me, Yuu-chan”
May 12th. 2:07 AM.
The thunderstorm clawed at Tokyo’s skyline, rattling the windows of Yuuichirou’s quiet apartment.
He woke up screaming.
The sheets were soaked in sweat. His throat is raw. His hands—shaking.
He stared at them.
Blood. His fingers were drenched in blood.
No—
He blinked. The red was gone. Just sweat. Just trembling. Just panic.
But he could still feel the blade in his hand. Could still hear her scream. The woman. Her eyes. The way she begged.
“No—No—NO—”
He staggered out of bed and collapsed beside his nightstand, fumbling for his phone like it was a lifeline. His heart thundered in his chest, his mind spiraling into a place colder than anything he’d ever known.
And in that darkness, only one name made sense.
He dialed before he could think.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times—
And then Mika's sleepy, worried voice crackled through the line:
Mika: “Yuu-chan?”
Yuuichirou: (broken, shaking) “I remember now…”
Yuuichirou: “Mika, please… come over…”
Yuuichirou: “I need you…”
Mika: (already grabbing his coat) “I’m on my way. Hold on. I’m coming.”
Twenty minutes later, drenched from the storm, Mika banged on the door of Yuu’s apartment.
Yuu opened it with trembling fingers.
And the moment their eyes met—
Mika rushed forward and pulled him into his arms.
Mika: (breathless, desperate) “Yuu-chan…”
Yuu collapsed into him.
He buried his face into Mika’s neck and let the tears fall.
He shook in his arms, chest heaving, eyes wide with terror.
Yuuichirou: “I saw her… I killed her…”
Yuuichirou: “I—Mika, I remember. I remember everything…”
Mika: (stroking his back) “I’ve got you. I’m here.”
Yuuichirou: “There was fog. I was in the alley. She screamed. I didn’t stop. I—”
(his voice cracked) “I was smiling…”
Mika: “You’re not him anymore.”
Yuuichirou: “But I was. I was, Mika! I am! What if he comes back? What if I lose control again? What if I hurt you?”
Mika: “You won’t. I won’t let you.”
Yuu sobbed into his shoulder.
He was falling apart. Fragmenting. Drowning.
But Mika never let go. Not even for a second.
He cupped Yuu’s face and leaned his forehead against his.
Mika: (gently) “You were a broken man once. But now you’re healing. Slowly. Painfully. But you are healing.”
Yuuichirou: “I don’t deserve you…”
Mika: “Maybe not.”
(his voice cracked with emotion) “But I love you anyway.”
Yuu’s breath hitched
.
Mika: (whispering) “Stay with me, Yuu-chan.”
Mika: “Let me fight this darkness with you. Just don’t push me away.”
Mika: “Stay.”
Yuu’s voice was hoarse, his heart breaking.
Yuuichirou: “I’ll try. For you… I’ll try.”
And for the rest of the night, Mika stayed by his side.
They curled up on the floor, tangled in a blanket beneath the soft hum of the storm outside.
Mika never let go.
Even when Yuu fell asleep again, haunted, but not alone.
Reincarnation AU – Part IV: “The Part of Me That Loved You”
May 16th.
Yuu had barely slept since the dreams started.
But tonight... it was different.
No screams. No blood. No knives or fog.
This time—
He stood on cobblestones lit by flickering gas lamps. The air smelled of ink and rain, and the distant hum of horse-drawn carriages drifted through the London night.
“Yuu-chan,” someone called softly beside him.
And he turned.
Mika stood there, dressed in a long coat and scarf. His hair was slightly tousled from the wind, eyes clear and full of affection.
Yuu felt his chest tighten.
He knew this place.
He knew him.
They were in Whitechapel. But this time, it wasn't stained with blood.
They were walking—hand in hand.
“Did you know,” Yuu said in that dream, smiling faintly, “that the phrase ‘Watson, come here, I want to see you,’ was the first intelligible thing ever spoken over a telephone?”
“You've told me that before,” Mika chuckled.
“I like repeating it,” Yuu grinned. “It reminds me how far we've come.”
Mika looked up at him, the gaslight glinting in his eyes.
“Do you remember when you hated holding hands?” Mika teased.
“I never hated it,” Yuu retorted. “I just... didn’t want to seem soft.”
“You were always soft with me.”
Yuu stopped walking.
He turned to Mika. Gently cupped his cheek.
And kissed him.
It was slow. Familiar. Safe.
And when he pulled away—
“I loved you then,” Yuu whispered. “Even when I didn’t know how.”
“You still love me,” Mika replied.
“Even now?”
“Especially now.”
Yuu woke up.
His eyes were wet, but not from terror.
He lay in bed, the gray light of dawn starting to push against the curtains.
For the first time in weeks, his hands weren't trembling.
He looked around his room—quiet. Peaceful.
And then at the nightstand, where Mika had left a small silver pocket watch.
The engraving caught his eye. He hadn't noticed it before.
"To my dearest Holmes. In this life or the next."
– Your Watson
Yuu swallowed.
A sob rose in his throat.
He clutched the watch to his chest.
“I remember,” he whispered into the silence. “Not all of it… But I remember you.”
He got up. Pulled on a coat. Slipped out into the early morning.
And twenty minutes later, he stood outside Mika’s dorm.
When the door opened—
Mika blinked in surprise, still in his hoodie and pajama pants.
Yuu didn’t speak.
He just stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him.
“Yuu-chan?” Mika asked softly.
Yuu's voice was raw, but calm.
“I saw you. In my dream. We were walking in Whitechapel. You were making fun of me.”
“That sounds like me,” Mika smiled faintly.
“I kissed you,” Yuu whispered. “And I told you I loved you.”
Mika’s arms tightened around him.
“You always did.”
They stood there for a long time, holding each other in the quiet hum of morning.
And for once, Yuu didn’t feel like a monster clawing for control.
He felt like a man.
A detective.
A lover.
Someone who used to smile more.
Someone who once believed he could save the world… with Mika by his side.