Author's Note: In a time of death, celebrate life. Parallels. As usual.
The title is an alteration of a song that is important for me. Remaining Sense of Pain - 14-M19+20
In my head, the setting of Heian Hao is the same as 'Through the Ages' by frostedheavens. Please go read that fanfic and show your support. It's the best fic SK I've read. Eventually it will be continued, when time is right.
Disclaimer: Still don't own Shaman King. Thank you Hiroyuki Takei. Seriously.
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"Hao-sama."
"Hmmm..."
"It's time. You have to wake up."
The sigh was blessfully free of the pain that Matamune had failed to prevent or protect him from. Still, he couldn't help but recall the night and the toll it took on the master omnyouji lying down on his futon, having tried and failed to sleep in order to be able to stand to face another day in this court of double faced aristocrats. The torments barely allowed him a couple of hours of much needed rest.
"Hao-sama. We have a full day ahead. I'm afraid it's past time for you to be present."
"Please, just a little more."
Had someone else attempted to enter his chambers and wake him up, they would most likely assume an uncharacteristic laziness had befallen him that morning.
Matamune knew better, however. He knew Hao had barely been able to rest at all throughout the night, the shivers and the painful moans driving him breathless in restless half-awaken nightmares. To see him hurting cut through the goryoushin as if he had been the one to suffer the stream of thoughts and foreign malice Hao had failed to withstand. Foreign malice, but so increasingly pouring they both feared could start to turn his own.
"I'm so tired..."
Hearing those words that someone else would chastise as unusually rude laziness, only made Matamune more concerned.
It was not often Matamune was lost for words, but unfortunately these moments in witnessing the kind man suffer had grown more frequent as the years went by. He could not fathom thoughts either, nor did he wish to burden Hao after the small break his mind had of everyone else's thoughts, concerns and ploys. Without well intentioned reassuring, but ultimately useless words, Matamune turned to the only other thing he knew could perhaps help. Such a small, simple and trivial gesture, but as he approached the protective shelter of the futon and touched Hao's forehead with his nose, rubbing his furry cheek slowly against him and purring, Matamune could feel the new shiver was not from pain.
Hao was giggling softly, and eventually had to rub his skin at the ticklish feeling of Matamune's whiskers.
"It tickles, Matamune. But I am awake, thank you."
The cat spirit smiled gently, still purring. Hao stroked him behind the ears. He looked more relieved from something as simple as a fondness than he had in a long time.
"Do you need me to inform everyone you'll be late?"
"No, there is no need," Hao replied, getting up slowly, face still marked by exhaustion. "It is a fact I am getting lazy, but people are still weary on mentioning it."
"Of course not, Hao-sama," Matamune disagreed immediately, only for Hao to giggle softly.
"You'd be surprised how lazy I am. Unfortunately, it is a whim I cannot endulge myself as often as I'd like."
Matamune waited in silence as Hao got ready. It was to his surprise when the man lowered to his knees and extended his hands.
"Stay with me. You are my protector after all."
Matamune blinked as Hao picked him up on his lap, signaling him to find a comfortable rest on the large sleeve of his robe and against his chest.
"The lords already feel uncomfortable whenever I am around. It will probably be almost ostentatious to..."
"Please, Matamune," Hao asked again, a kind, almost playful smile, which was a welcomed reassurance to the spirit. "Most of them will likely think about maintaining distance to avoid getting cat hair on their robes. Those are thoughts I'd willingly listen to."
Matamune couldn't help but smile, agreeing that many would react that way at seeing the mighty omnyouji Asakura Hao carrying his nekomata on his lap.
Acting as a more literal protective charm was something that gave peace to Matamune. Purring softly, he could feel Hao relax and breathe more easily as he fought his best throughout the day.
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For the longest time, Matamune mourned.
The hardest part is not the ending. The death, the parting.
In a way, Hao never died. In more ways than one, he would always be present in the world - again, eventually. For the damnation of the world, as too many different gazes and opinions stated and resented, accurate as they might be in their cutting painful words.
In a way, he never died.
A thousand years and thousand journeys, and Matamune had encountered the same notion: normal humans unable to see ghosts, they held on to the feeling on their hearts that their loved ones were still present. Either a feeling driven by wish and longing or literal emotion driven by bounds poured by the spirits, it was a familiar notion that Matamune experienced and related to. His was a physical manifestation, the warmth of furyoku always present on the necklace against his chest, the same proof that humans shared. Hao was still present.
Not the Hao everyone feared, the man consumed and destroyed by the fire of hatred that Matamune failed to save and protect.
The hardest part is how much the loss hurts. The absense of possibility for more cherished important memories.
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For the longest time in his seemingly endless existence, Matamune accepted, but mourned.
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Until this young boy greeted him for the first time and smiled.
Same smile. Same genuine emotion, enheighted by the pure heartwarming innocence of childhood. Same eyes with, finally, a renewed sense of joy.
Same soul.
"Yoh-sama..."
"Hmmm..."
And a remaining sense of laziness. No, maybe increased.
"Wake up, Yoh-sama."
"Sleeeeepy~"
"Come now. Look at the wonderful day ahead."
"Naaahh..." More a groan than a word, really. Full of the heaviness of a night fully and comfortably slept.
"We have a lot to do today, Yoh-sama. It's past time now."
"Five more minutes, please..."
The small sigh was in truth a smile. Slowly, without really contemplating what he was doing, Matamune approached the child tangled up inside the coccoon of his futon and lowered to him, something so uncharastic of the cat spirit, so long forlorn but so simple. Gently, he rubbed his cheek on Yoh's forehead and purred. The boy let out an immediate chuckle, rubbing at the spot where Matamune's fur and whiskers touched.
"Stop that, it tickles." Yoh said between giggles, and peeked an eye open. "Ok, Matamune. Good morning to you as well."
And Matamune felt at peace at last.
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終わり
Author's Note: Listened to my good old music. Versailles, domo.
Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated.
Mata ne, mochirei.