Ash had never been one to believe in God, or any other deities in fact.
Growing up in Massachusetts, he never felt like he needed to worry about that, or anything else for that matter. The idyllic peninsula of Cape Cod was a popular spot for tourists, attracting them throughout the summer for the perfect family seaside getaway. To Ash, it was just as beautiful in winter —its biggest charm being that there were no tourists during the season.
When he stood on the end of the dock, watching his father go fishing in the serene, clear water, Ash felt like the world would stop. With the vast water in front of him, gulls soaring and the roar of a boat engine, he would look out as far as his eyes could see —he dreamed of calm waters and sunny skies forever.
To Ash, the ocean was the closest thing to heaven.
If his mother had been religious herself, Ash had no way of knowing —her having left him in the care of his father when he was a baby. Ash liked to think that he could never forgive her, but he realised, there's no point hating both of your parents and his father wasn't going to be taken off that list any time soon. And anyway, he didn't think he could ever truly hate her if he'd never really met her.
When he'd seen his father last, while on their way to Los Angeles with the others, Jim hadn't wanted anything to do with him. To have a better greeting from your father's girlfriend than your father himself was a punch to the gut. Yet, he'd not felt disappointed to have that reaction from him; he'd expected it from the man who left him in the care of his older brother until the age of seven.
With his brother Griffin dead, his mother not in the picture, and his father basically dead to him anyway, the closest person to Ash had been his best friend, Shorter Wong.
The last time he even thought about his religious standing was when he and Shorter met in juvenile detention. Although they hadn't gotten along to begin with, the two became close friends, considering the other to be like their brother. When Shorter was leaving prison, he had told Ash that he resembled an angel —his face so beautiful it was scary and his green eyes so clear he felt himself entranced.
This had surprised Ash, to be compared to a beautiful celestial being when he'd thought of himself as a monster. Throughout the rest of his life, Ash was always being called 'the devil himself' or some sort of animal, but Shorter's words always stuck with him.
By the time Ash left prison a few weeks later, the two decided to band together and this ultimately unified their gangs —which proved the right move; together they took down Arthur and Golzine.
However, his lasting thought of Shorter was nothing he wanted to remember. Ash's voice desperately shouting out to his friend. The look in Shorter's eyes when he saw him; the guilt and utter terror. His body shaking, gripped onto the knife as sweat dripped down his sunken face and scratched, pale torso. He cried out to Ash too, but not with happiness and pleasure. It was of pain and suffering. To this day, Ash can't forgive himself for his actions; holding the gun up to his friend's back, taking aim, pulling the trigger.
Thinking about Shorter makes his skin crawl and his hair stand on end.
After he did it, he'd never felt more disgusted with himself —even if it was to put an end to his best friend's suffering. He was left feeling empty.
Every time he felt unsure of himself and his actions, or he felt scared —not that he liked to admit the latter— he pictured that water; he pictured his father sailing out to collect fish in his net.
It's at this moment that the memory comes to mind, as he lays down on the cold, hard concrete steps, clutching at his bleeding stomach.
Continuing to apply pressure to his wound, Ash winces. Just when he thinks the pain has subsided and the bleeding has stopped, it shoots through his stomach again and more drips out.
Head heavy with his numb, tear-stained cheek digging into the stone, Ash struggles to keep his eyes open —aching and lacklustre. His head spins and throbs.
A cold sweat forming on his forehead and his pulse speeding up, he wonders if what he's really experiencing is a heart attack, not just blood loss.
Dizzy, nauseated, weak.
Is this it?
Is this really how I die?
All the heartache, misery, pain and suffering he's endured for years was all leading to this.
Dying on the stone steps of his favourite building in the city from a stab wound by a bitter member of the Chinese gang.
Many times during his life in New York had the Public Library been a solace to him. Although he didn't like to think much about his time living with Dino —most of it being filled with sexual assault and abuse— he couldn't help but be happy he learned so much about books. Along with his old teacher Blanca, who also read a lot, Dino taught him about the most famous works of literature in history, Ash's favourites being Hemmingway and Sallinger. Going to the library helped remind him of his studies, but he also felt strangely nostalgic when he went there.
Most children, if not all, spend their childhood going to school, getting an education and going on to either study in college or start in the workforce. Ash can't say he had a normal childhood, or life, and there's a lot he regrets, but there are a handful of things he wants to remember and be thankful for.
In a state of vertigo and confusion, Ash takes one of his blood-stained hands away from his wound and into his trench coat. Inside his breast pocket, he retrieves the bloody, tear-stained letter with an unsteady hand and he drops his gaze down to his lap. He curls up tighter, focusing his eyes and re-reading the letter again.
'I'm really glad I came to America. I met lots of people.
And more than anything, I met you.'
No longer feeling any pain, now just numbness, Ash silently cries, the tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Eiji..." He mumbles weakly to himself.
Looking up at the tall building, he admires its beauty, thinking back to Eiji —the two of them sat eating hot dogs together, only last week. The two sat by the pillar, not far from his current spot, chatting and jokingly mocking each other.
Trembling, Ash tastes the warm, salty sensation of his tears on his dry lips. His head throbs.
Body shaking, he attempts to hold up the letter again.
'You told me once about a leopard you read in a book. How you believed that leopard knew that it couldn't go back.
And I said you weren't a leopard, that you could change your destiny.'
It's true, he'd read Hemmingway's 'The Snows of Kilimanjaro' when he was about thirteen. In the story, the leopard continues to climb the snowy mountain, despite the harsh conditions, and it dies in the snow. Ash always wondered if the leopard was looking for something or if it simply felt compelled to continue climbing.
Ash read the last line of Eiji's letter again.
'You're not alone. I'm by your side.
My soul is always with you.'
All the people in his life that he's met has moulded him into the person he is today —some he'd have rather not met, but nonetheless they had helped shape him.
His father had made him realise that it was hard to forgive people. Griffin had cared for him from a young age and Ash ultimately returned that favour once he'd found him in the veteran hospital, almost completely unresponsive and brain dead as a result of Banana Fish. Dino had moulded him as a gang leader, but also ruined Ash's innocence. Blanca had taught him the skills he used to this day and showed him kindness in a time where he needed it the most. Max had looked out for him during their time in prison and helped throughout the Banana Fish scheme; Ash really considered him a father figure, despite all the jokes he made. Shorter, his best friend, had helped him figure out who he was outside of the pain he experienced when he was young.
But of everyone he'd met throughout the years, whether they are now dead or alive, the most surprising of them all had been Eiji.
He seemed like a quiet, innocent, Japanese teen that wouldn't mean anything to him; but, quite unexpectedly, he changed everything.
Of course, he put Eiji in a lot of danger —including him getting shot in the torso— and he had insisted that Eiji was safer with himself in the city. Really, he'd known from the start that he was wrong, yet he kept Eiji with him anyway.
Ash sobs, clutching the letter with one hand and his stomach with the other, the blood on his clothes, surrounding the edge of the wound, now drying up.
"Eiji!"
He calls out hopelessly, controlling his breathing for a moment while his heart thumps loudly in his chest and his ears. As if waiting for a reply, Ash's whimpers fill the silence.
Desperate, he raises his gaze to look at his surroundings, for any sign of another person, only to see an empty street.
Attempting to stand up, Ash's legs give way and he crashes back onto the steps, defeated.
He continues to lay down in his collapsed state, frail and completely alone. He listens. He breathes. He waits.
A light dusting of snow starts to fall, like a thin, white blanket. It settles, covering him, the steps and the quiet street.
The pain starts to fade away. His body relaxes. He feels content.
The fading sun shines over the building and Ash looks up at the light. Tears streaming, smiling faintly.
His mind returns to the calm waters of Cape Cod and the happy face of his father. He turns to the side to see Eiji holding his hand, smiling back at him.
Ash had never believed in any God or deity, but he was choosing now to send out a silent prayer.
A prayer of forgiveness.
A prayer of peace.
-
-
-
"tell me, how's it feel sittin' up there?
feelin' so high, but too far away to hold me" - Halsey