It came to me one day while I'm browsing the crossover section of the Pit and realized that there was no -man x PoT crossover. This isn't a DGM x PoT crossover. What it is is a DGM verse AU, with the Seigaku members as Exorcists and some Hyotei members as not-so-much appearing Noah.
Hyotei as Noah. Hyotei as Noah. That would make Atobe the Earl – what was I thinking when I wrote this? For all I know, this is an excuse to give Fuji an eyepatch.
This turned out rather happy.
Title: Dedication
Characters/Pairings: no pairings. This concentrates mostly on Seigaku members – some more than others – as they, well, suffer.
Rating: T. I'm uncertain about this, though; I'd be grateful if someone corrected me.
Warnings: character death, gore, violence
Length: around 6,300
Summary: you know dedication has no reward, but you see that first petal unfurl on your palm and you can't look away.
For those who have not read DGM:
Background: There's this guy called the Millennium Earl who visits people whose loved ones have just died and offers to revive the loved ones. Naturally, the people buys it and the Earl summons this skeleton machine thing containing something called Dark Matter and that skeleton machine thing actually takes over the person's body. Violently. The result is akuma. Essentially, the one calling the dead person alive will turn him/her into an akuma.
Akuma: monster-machine in human skin that shoots bullets containing Dark Matter that disintegrate anyone who touches it. And that's just Level 1.
People: they're all from the Black Order, a vaguely Christian organization fighting against the Earl.
Exorcist: people who are compatible with Innocence, retrieves Innocence, kills akuma. Their uniform canonically has these silver buttons with their names engraved at the back of them. Strong Exorcists are promoted to Generals.
Finders: people who actually search for those Innocence and sometimes retrieve them and usually get killed in nasty, horrible ways. Mostly normal people.
Noah: a group of near-immortal people under the Earl; naturally, they fight Exorcists. You can identify them by the crosses on their forehead and grayish skin, but they have a normal human form. They also control akuma, although each Noah has different specialized powers of their own.
Bookmen: people who 'record the hidden history' of the world. They're supposed to be above good and evil and not have any feelings towards the world whatsoever, viewing people as ink and taking no sides, that kind of thing.
There's also the Science Division, the guys who do all the crazy stuff like build robots and design uniforms and brief people on missions and so on.
Things
Innocence: in someone's words, hey, I didn't name it. The only weapons that can kill akuma. Can be any form, really. One of the DGM characters has this super-powered holy boots as her weapon. It's awesome. There's this one special Innocence named 'the Heart' that's supposed to be key to defeating the Earl, and that's all I know - DGM's author likes her secrets.
Golem: some sort of floating round communicating device, although one's the shape of an umbrella – some are sentient and can act as pets, apparently.
That was long. I'm sorry, guys, if I completely fail at introducing DGM in a concise manner but if you need any clarification, please contact me and I'll be happy to reply – but take what I say with a grain of salt; it's been a long time since I re-read the series. I wanted to, but I ended up somewhere in the twenties and I gave up. So, I'm extremely sorry for any inaccuracies. Please tell me about them, though, and I'll see how I'll make it up to you.
dedication.
News is delivered in the form of a shivering Finder with narrow shoulders and bony knees and clenched fingers that look fleshless. The boy's figure is tiny and insignificant between the Order's walls - translucent, almost, but his appearance pales in comparison to his voice.
Momo-chan-senpai, the ghost of a Finder says, as he unlocks his palm to reveal a button. Momo-chan-senpai.
General Tezuka is steady when he moves forward to retrieve the button, but they are aware of the existence of a glass jar on the top-right-hand corner of his desk that contains what is never shown on his face, in the embodiment of silver buttons – sixteen, seventeen now – and they are enough to tell the life-story of the names engraved on them. Nobody speaks to Tezuka about this.
It is the same common courtesy that causes them to remain silent as Oishi gathers the boy into his arms, asks for his name and thanks him for a job well done, thanks him for coming back alive, thanks him for his bravery; skinny arms cling to Oishi's stomach, and tears stain Oishi's face but at the same time he sounds so very strong.
Momoshiro arrived at the Order front door two years ago with a grin from his ear to ear – this alone was enough to mark him as different – and by two weeks he had acquainted himself with at least fifty Finders and a dozen other Exorcists, and he had declared with the same grin, "We won't lose, we definitely won't," and Eiji had given him a high-five and Kaidoh had slapped him on the back.
Eight people know, simply by the virtue of being present; to the rest, Momoshiro is still that confident child who can predict the rain, away on a solo mission in Africa.
Minutes later, the Finder loosens his grip on Oishi. Tezuka nods and with his left hand in a fist, walks out of the room without looking back. They are dismissed.
The first to speak is Fuji, "Then, I will retire for the night as well." His visible eye is closed and the corners of his lips are always lifted, voice only above a murmur – loud enough to be heard, never enough to echo. He turns and follows Tezuka's trail and unlike Tezuka his footsteps are never audible.
Then they escape, one by one, until only Oishi and the Finder and Eiji remain.
Eiji furiously blinks back tears; the cross on the wall and Oishi's hands are all a blur for him, but it is with enormous determination that his feet are planted firmly on the ground until Oishi speaks, "It's late. Let's go back, Kato, Eiji." The upturn of lips he presents Eiji with is rough around the edges and his eyes are too old to smile, but Eiji fully understands.
.
Fuji follows Tezuka with silent steps, but Tezuka does not need noise to ascertain Fuji's presence. They arrive in front of his room and he unlocks and opens the door; it opens with a creak that has been present for six months, and this time it is he who follows Fuji inside. He does not close the door behind him.
Tezuka sits on his desk chair battling the urge to put a hand over his temple. He sits at a forty-two degree angle to where Fuji is facing and does not direct Fuji towards a chair. "You're upset with me," Tezuka states.
"Why would I be?" Fuji's smiles are in code, and he continues, "Ah, but you knew there was a Noah." Fuji is merely stating a fact, and he does this without poison between his words. He gazes at Tezuka with one hand on his chin and his head is tilted by a minuscule angle.
"Momoshiro's powers were required in that area." Tezuka never justifies; he tells the truth.
Fuji nods, once, and when he speaks his voice remains the same. "I see." He leaves as silently as he came; the sound the door makes when it shuts is carefully gentle.
Tezuka retrieves his glass jar and unscrews the lid; he lets go of the pressure digging into his palm, the button warm, and it lands on top of all the others with a soft clink. When he closes the jar the lid feels cold.
one.
.
Echizen arrives in the middle of winter carrying nothing but a cream-and-brown checkered golem and three words hastily scribbled on an unsigned note from a rogue General – He's compatible, enjoy – and he brings with him an ego larger than life and a tsunami.
He is given a mission with Oishi in a town in South Italy, a simple Innocence retrieval that takes less than a day. Oishi hands the Innocence to a Finder, and they start walking towards the city gates when someone says, loudly, "Aw, I guess I'm too late, then."
The Finders look behind, slowing. Oishi turns towards the source of the voice and sees a boy wearing a red and black striped shirt and holding a purple umbrella. The boy approaches them, tapping the umbrella on the cobbled street with each step, and stops within a metre distance. "I'm Gakuto," he declares with a grin, and then he waves the umbrella. "This is Taki. What're your names?"
Echizen keeps on walking, and Oishi lays a hand over his shoulder with a call, and then Gakuto laughs a crass little chuckle and crosses appear on his darkening forehead.
Oishi whispers, 'Noah'. It is the last thing Echizen hears before the streets around them melt away.
.
They are in a dark room lit by a thousand floating candles – all striped red and black, tapered towards the wick, all aimed towards them. The rough surface of a wall digs into Echizen's back, and Oishi is a few metres to his right. The Noah is in the centre of the room, barking laughter, 'I haven't played Exorcists for too long!' and he makes a simple gesture and several candles stab Echizen in his arm, thigh, stomach – in the middle of Oishi shouting his name he tries his best not to yell.
Then Echizen hears Oishi screaming, and his body scrambles to reach Oishi – but it happens in less than a second and Gakuto raises his arm and a lit candle jams itself in Echizen's left eye – and it's completely pierced, just like that. The last thing he remembers burning even brighter than the pain is the humiliation, and then the world dissolves in a flash of white.
He is awoken by Oishi carefully shaking him by his shoulders. The Innocence attached to Oishi's arm is glowing a subtle green, and the moment Echizen's mind is the slightest bit conscious he raises a slow hand towards his eye. Oishi touches his forearm and says, "It's healed for now. But your wounds will return once I deactivate my Innocence, so we'd better hurry back."
Clarity flows into Echizen's mind like a waterfall, and suddenly his spine jolts straight and his eyes dart around the room before returning to Oishi. "The Noah?"
Oishi holds Echizen's wild-eyed gaze for a few moments before saying, 'Don't worry, the Finders are safe,' and turns to point to an indistinguishable pile of charcoal and goo. Echizen is confused before he notices the red and black striped cloth at its fringe. "Who did this?" he asks.
Oishi looks bewildered when he answers, "You, Echizen."
.
Echizen spends the rest of the week in the hospital wing, swathed in bandages and an eyepatch over his left eye. It is his third day that Fuji visits, ducking under the curtains with a smile on his face – the only sign of his approach is the sound of curtain hooks sliding against the rod. He locates a chair and drags it softly to Echizen's bedside, and he sits without saying anything.
Several moments pass of one-eyed staring, until Echizen feels the need to salvage some time and asks, annoyed, "What do you want?"
Fuji's smile widens and his eye curves, and he performs a slight bow, back a perfect straight incline. "I'm sorry, terribly rude of me. You can call me Fuji Shuusuke."
Something in Echizen's eye lights up when Fuji straightens himself, and the corner of his lips curl. "I've heard of you," he declares, voice taking on the undertone of a person who believes they have seen the entire world.
Fuji raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Echizens cocks his head, "You're a Bookman, aren't you?" The smile of Fuji's face is revealing nothing, as it has been since the moment he set his foot on the Order's front hall. "The old General said you guys can't be trusted." There is no other emotion in Echizen's voice except the emotion of the cat in the proverb before it falls.
When Fuji doesn't answer, he continues, "You've been in this three years before me, right." His smirk widens and his visible eye gleams, "Then I guess I should call you senpai, Fuji-senpai."
"Echizen," Fuji tilts his head and points to his own eyepatch, "We match."
The next morning Fuji visits again, and again his only announcement is the curtain's rustle. Echizen squints from the sudden light passing through the opened curtain and asks the question before Fuji even takes a seat. "What do you want?"
The curtain falls away, obscuring the light, and Echizen stops squinting. Fuji is unperturbed, smiling as he lifts a chair as easily as he breathes and remarks, "So polite so early in the morning." Echizen looks away with a 'che' as Fuji seats himself next to his bed, silent with a hand on his chin for a single moment before saying, "Gossip spreads like wild fire in the Order."
Echizen eyes him, brow scrunching. "What do you want, Fuji-senpai?" he asks again.
Fuji answers this time, without faltering in rhythm, and Echizen knows that this is a sentence that has been rehearsed. "I want to ask the person who may or may not be the wielder of the Heart some questions."
Echizen's arm is carelessly thrown on top of the bedcovers. "Denied. Next." Fuji opens his eye and his smile widens.
.
"It's too bad about your eye," Head Nurse Ryuzaki says in an overused sympathetic tone that is no longer able to sound anything but weary, "But you heal incredibly fast. You're not some sort of escaped military experiment, are you?" She asks this with one raised eyebrow and two fingers reaching to pinch his cheek.
Echizen stares. Behind her, her granddaughter mumbles, "Obaa-san," and the fingers holding her clipboard to her chest twitches. Ryuzaki retracts her hand and cackles - nobody else does.
Without waiting for the cackles to recede, Echizen turns to leave and is adjusting his cap when Ryuzaki's granddaughter calls after him, 'Um, R-ryoma-kun!' He looks over his shoulder and she hesitates for just one split second before saying, "Welcome to the Order!" She stutters as she says this but it is with her eyes looking forward and a smile that she does.
He shrugs on his new Exorcist's coat, and the material is thick and warm – it is slightly too big across his shoulders and the sleeves are slightly too long, but it fits him perfectly – for you to grow into, the tailor said. "Yeah," he answers, and smirks.
two.
.
It is evening when Professor Inui summons Oishi to the briefing room, the Order's turrets bathed in orange sunlight and shadows stretching long. Inui is behind his desk, fingers tapping against the wood and his other hand holding up sheets of paper. "There are reports of an akuma in Venice," he says.
Oishi has barely stepped into the threshold, and his eyebrows quirk. "Just the one?"
Without looking at him, Inui answers, eyeglasses glinting. "Hmm. Apparently a girl turned her mother." He swivels on his chair and hands some paperwork to an assistant before returning to his former position and picking up another pile from the desk.
Oishi takes a seat opposite of Inui and says, elbows on the desk and eyes hooded by the chiaroscuro of light, "It's tragic, isn't it, Inui."
Inui knows, just as he knows Oishi knows, how obvious of a statement that declaration makes. His fingers keep tapping, and he sets the papers in his hand down with an almost-slam. "It's something we have to face. Take Kikumaru and Echizen with you."
"But at the same time," Oishi breathes, and searches for Inui's eyes. "At the same time, isn't it warm?" Inui is silent, waiting for him to explain. "That humans can love someone enough to bring them back from the dead."
Inui's fingers still. "Hmm," he says. "There may be something good in this after all," and the corner of his lips rise by a fraction of a millimetre just as the sun fully sets. It is a mere fraction, but it is always more than enough for Oishi – he beams.
.
The three are in Venice, about to ride a gondola that will take them along the Canal Grande to their inn – I'll give you cheap, the gondolier claimed – when Eiji catches a glimpse of grey cannons disappearing between roofs. "Akuma!" Eiji points, and removes his foot from the gondola and turns violently, running to the direction his finger indicated.
Oishi says to the gondolier, 'Sorry, next time,' and shouts "Wait, Eiji!" before he too jumps out of the gondola and runs after him.
Eiji takes them through the labyrinth that is Venice – a turn there, an orange vendor there – the streets they run through gradually becomes narrower and narrower, the people lesser and lesser, and somewhere between the fourth turn and the third intersection Echizen is lost – and Eiji and Oishi find themselves in an empty alley with no akuma in sight.
"Looks like we're separated from Ochibi, nya," Eiji says, panting.
Oishi panics and drops the blood orange he somehow manages to acquire during his run. It turns to mush on the ground. "We should go look for him," he says, "What if the akuma finds him?"
Eiji whistles and twirls where he stands, arms behind his head. "Ochibi is a strong boy. He'll manage, don't worry!"
"Yes, but –" Oishi begins, when out of a corner emerges a little girl, dressed in a white lace dress and dragging a rabbit stuffed toy behind her.
In her hand is a plant – it's not even a flower, but her thin fingers grasp the stem so tightly as she offers the fern to Eiji. He pats her head and ducks, and there is a wide grin of her face before it morphs –– and Eiji is activating his Innocence but it's not soon enough, not fast enough, and Oishi pushes him out of the way and Eiji shoots and the akuma melts – it's never soon enough. Oishi is on the ground, fingers on his throat and eyes wide, and – there are black stars crawling up his neck.
It takes just an instant. In this one instant Eiji is reminded of millions of things – of how Oishi taught him the perfect way to cook Yakiniku, of how he used to change his hairstyle every year, of how he used to smile – all the pieces and fragments of Oishi's life, of his own life, the bits and corners that make up a jigsaw puzzle, and he knows that he would never want to forget them. It's the same way he knows he will forever remember this one second – stars fingers crack eyes gone stars – the same way he knows he will forever want to forget.
It takes less than an instant for one whole life to turn to ash.
Silence reigns for all of three seconds. "Oishi?" Eiji whispers to dust. "Oishi!" Wide-eyed, he grabs Oishi's uniform and shakes it – nothing but dust, dust, dust that flies everywhere, settling on the street, on the walls, coating his fingers, "Didn't you promise – you promised to win this war together, Oishi!"
It is in this two-metre wide alley in central Venice nobody knows that Echizen's golem finds him, bent over nothing but a piece of tattered cloth. Echizen's eye is wide when he arrives.
Tezuka is at the deck when they return. "Good work," he says, voice sombre and eyes dull. Echizen brushes past him without looking and grits his teeth, "I don't care, General." He walks straight to his chamber – the General can take care of Eiji, he thinks. It is already nightfall.
.
Kawamura remembers the time when Eiji brought back one-inch of a finger, cold and unrecognizable in his palm. "I couldn't," he had whispered, the Order's walls swallowing up the rest of his words, before his body wracked into sobs and he hunched down to the floor. Kawamura had laid a palm on his hair and mumbled a 'Don't cry, Eiji,', all the while holding back his tears. That night they had scavenged around the laboratory for a shovel and buried the finger in one of the Order's gardens and spent a few hours carving Arai's name on a gravestone out of a fist-sized pebble and they had visited weekly.
Kawamura thinks that the Finder's little graveyard has been washed away and Eiji right now refuses to speak even one word. Kawamura watches as Eiji sits on a chair by the window in the common room, one hand on the table and the other hanging limply by his side, a thousand-yard-stare in his eyes.
"Senpai," Kaidoh growls, and there is a crack in his voice. "Why are you just sitting there?"
Eiji remains unmoving, Oishi's button trapped between his limp fingers. Kaidoh tries again. "Kikumaru-senpai. Let's go. The professor is waiting."
Hearing no response, not even a twitch of the lips, Kaidoh slams his hands hard against the table; the teacup on the centre clatters. "Senpai!"
Kawamura lays a hand on Kaidoh's shoulder and shakes his head. On his face is a faint smile – pinched, tired, but present – and as he approaches Eiji he says, his voice wavering, "Please get some sleep, Eiji." When he and Kaidoh start to walk to the briefing room he sees Eiji get up from his chair and trudge towards the corridor and Kawamura breathes, again, just for a while.
That night Inui knocks on Eiji's room door and no one answers so he reaches out and turns the handle. The door is unlocked – Eiji is hunched over his desk, fingers entwined and enclosing a hint of silver. "Kikumaru. I have something from Oishi for you."
Inui sets down a yellowed envelope on Eiji's dining table. "Read it if you have the time."
.
The moment Inui leaves, Eiji jolts to his feet and scrambles to open the letter – his desk chair is thrown backwards, legs scraping harshly against the floor, and his nails leave claw marks on the envelope. It is with shaking fingers that he unfolds the paper and starts.
Dear Eiji,
If you're reading this letter, then this must mean that I have left. I'm sorry, Eiji, for letting you go through such pain, but please forgive me when I say I'm not sorry for dying, if it is for the Order. If my death can bring us even one minuscule step towards our common aim, then I would be more than happy to sacrifice myself.
Our war is long and gruesome, Eiji. It has taken many lives and robbed many futures, but it is for the sake of more lives that we fight, that we raise our weapons against our enemy. It is for the sake of the picture of tomorrow that we harbor just that one tiny seed of hope, and it is this hope that keeps us going, no matter how many blows and how many wounds the world chooses to impart upon us – until the day we can see the seed finally bloom.
You might not understand. Perhaps you would place blame on me. I would accept readily; the only regret I have is if my actions leave you suffering, and I will not fault you.
I understand that there are times when a person will fall. There is no shame in that. But ultimately we are given two feet so we can stand, and take a step forward – no matter how small, no matter how insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things, no matter how futile our actions seem, it is without doubt that I say one day we will eventually arrive at a world where we can smile, as free as the air, and wake up looking forward to tomorrow.
Do you know, Eiji? In that tomorrow I see us all laughing.
Yes, even Tezuka.
Yours faithfully,
Oishi Shuuichiroh.
Then, at the bottom of this single eight-point-five by eleven inches sheet of paper is one small, tiny little sentence, let's win this war together.
.
The next morning, Eiji is the person banging on Inui's door clutching the envelope inside his palm with eyes scrunched and tears flowing down his face, but he is standing when he says, "He's never lost it, has he? That one tiny seed."
Inui pats him on the head and offers him tea and he accepts.
three.
.
It takes patience to visit China, the land of falling and rising dynasties, this land with jade empires built of grains of sand and the wall that unites some ten million square kilometre of land. Fuji and Kawamura are not visitors, but they decide to stop by a local market, somewhere hidden among green bamboo trunks and a mist that settles over the village like soft wool - 'Bring home some pork buns,' Eiji had said – both Kawamura and Fuji know they will spoil before they reach the Order.
The forest leading to the village is musical, the bamboo trunks carrying the melody of each slow trickle of dew from the leaves and every footfall of a rodent and all the chirps of insects invisible to the eye. It is when the music stops that the two Exorcists halt – there are akuma nearby, they can see them behind the branches.
Fuji slowly opens his eye and activates his weapon. The still air around them starts to form a subtle breeze, not enough to bend the bamboo stems but enough to rustle the lime-green leaves and send the fallen ones up in a swirl. "You should go ahead with the Innocence, Taka-san. I can manage on my own."
"What are you talking about, Fujiko-chan?" Kawamura's laughs gingerly, and there is a genuine note of disbelief between his one breath and the next. He activates his own weapon. "I won't leave you alone."
Fuji curls his fingers. "Right," he breathes. They charge.
.
They are already panting, Exorcist's uniform damp with sweat and blood, and akuma are still continually appearing from left and right and around when Fuji spies an approaching cloud of akuma from on top and beyond the trees. He turns to warn Kawamura – and suddenly, a sharp kick is delivered to his back. Black butterflies cloud his line of vision; the only thing he sees, he can see, is point-tipped wings with patterns of spades, and a grey hand that reaches out and lifts his chin.
"Hmm?" the Noah raises an eyebrow, then mumbles to himself, 'eyepatch, eyepatch -' and then he snaps a finger and he smirks. "Why, the Bookman."
"Fujiko-chan!" Kawamura leaps at him with his weapon bared, and the Noah drops his hand and takes several steps back. He straightens himself and rights his tie, smirk still on his face and drawls, "Oh, my. Such an unfortunate day."
The momentary distraction provides Fuji enough time to send up a gust to disperse the butterflies. He leaps to his feet and yanks Kawamura by the wrist – they are only two Exorcists, wounded and exhausted and fighting against a growing army, and so they run deeper into the forest, the Noah calling 'Oi, leaving already?' behind them.
They do not notice a butterfly burying itself into Kawamura's shoulder blade until Kawamura turns, says 'Ow!', slaps a hand on the spot and a sliver of wings disappears between his fingers. Their eyes are wide when Kawamura slowly lifts his fingers one-by-one and lowers his palm, and time freezes for one second, two.
The only sound they can hear in the forest full of creatures is their heartbeats, but time resumes after several tense breaths and Kawamura chuckles a nervous chuckle as his fingers reach for his hair and starts to say "It's all right, Fuji –" and then his hand jerks still in mid-air.
Fuji sees a butterfly emerge from Kawamura's mouth, and he watches, as Kawamura's lips form the thirty-third syllable of the Iroha and then morphing into a familiar honorific, and he doesn't look away as Kawamura's skin bubbles and breaks and births black wings, starting from his neck to his arm to his outstretched fingers, until butterflies burst out of his chest in a coloured spray and there is nothing left but Kawamura's Exorcist uniform and the pulp that used to be his body.
Fuji thinks, lips curling in a twisted smile and eye dry, that this must certainly save the Order some funeral money.
They find him soon after, laughing into Taka-san's uniform, fingers trying to pry the rose cross off his chest until they bleed.
.
When they return to headquarters, Tezuka is waiting by the entry hall and the Finders present him with a button before scurrying away. Their footsteps recede, dimming into echoes of unrestrained sobs and tears – new Finders, and Tezuka walks until he and Fuji are face-to-face. He regards Fuji from head to toe and after seemingly forming a conclusion extends his fist in Fuji's direction. Fuji stays still and unmoving until Tezuka says, "Hold out your hand."
Fuji raises an eyebrow. "What for?"
Tezuka merely stares into his eye, and Fuji suppresses the urge to look away, sighing as he does as he is commanded. Tezuka deposits Kawamura's button into his open palm, metal still warm from Tezuka's hand. Fuji stares at the distorted reflection of the Order's ceiling, open eye fixed on the subtle glint. "What use is this?"
Tezuka doesn't answer, and Fuji tears his gaze away from the button and observes the tangle of shadows and marble on the floor. His fingers clench around the button as he lowers his arm, nails digging into his palm, and he bites his tongue before he takes a breath and his fingers loosen. "If you're here to console me," Fuji raises his head, lips quirking, "There's no need. I'm a Bookman. I can't feel."
Tezuka's gaze is penetrating. "Yes," he lets, "But Fuji Shuusuke can."
It is in the afternoon the next day that Inui announces the Bookman is missing, and Fuji Shuusuke is nowhere to be found. Tezuka gazes at his jar of buttons and Eiji clutches Oishi's letter harder.
four.
.
Echizen's first mission with Tezuka involved reports of akuma activity in a town with cobblestone streets and stained-glass windows. It took only three hours upon arriving, and Echizen had leant back against the inn's restaurant table and remarked, "It's an easy mission, wasn't it, General" with a smirk on his lips.
Tezuka had been packing his trunk when he said, without sparing Echizen even a glance, "There are no easy missions, Echizen." Then he had picked up his trunk and, stopping at the inn's door, turned to Echizen and regarded him with all-seeing eyes, "Never let your guard down."
It's strange that the memory resurfaces when he is surrounded by twenty, thirty, fifty akuma, even with Tezuka by his side. It becomes the only thing Echizen can think about when a burly Noah appears from behind the akuma, an enormous battle axe in his hand. "Kabaji," Tezuka says, and Kabaji and the akuma rush towards them all at once.
"Echizen," Tezuka says – it's less a request than an order, "Take the Noah."
Echizen does, and charges towards Kabaji. The Noah is strong: with every blow Echizen hits Kabaji returns two back. There are cuts across Echizen's arms and a gash in his abdomen, and his blood drips to the rocks below – but he is still standing, and he knows that he can fight as long as he still stands. So he keeps hitting and returning blow after blow after blow, and there is a split second when he sees an opening; he drives his weapon there –
It clatters to the ground. Kabaji's hands are around his neck, and as he feels himself being lifted he claws against the Noah's fingers.
The old General says that the average Exorcist lasts about a year, two if he's lucky. Echizen has the satisfaction of being above the average bloke in the Order – it has been more than a year, at least, and he scoffs to himself, because Oishi and Kawamura are dead dead dead and this is just a useless, senseless war, and it's been a long time since he can't breathe –
He sees from the corner of his eye Tezuka taking on three, and four, and five more akuma at once and as he lets himself think about Oishi-senpai and Kawamura-senpai he finds the strength to pry off Kabaji's fingers from his neck enough to choke out, "I don't want anyone else to die, dammit-" and there is the same blinding flash of white light.
Echizen ends up in the hospital wing, again, but this time it is Tezuka who visits him, footsteps a decisive rhythm on the marble floor. He looks Echizen straight in the eye and says only one sentence. "Become a general, Echizen."
Echizen smirks. "Mada mada dane."
Sometime later, Tezuka is sent away on a solo mission halfway around the world and Echizen keeps moving forward.
five.
.
The alarm that serves as a warning signal to the Order of an invasion is a terrible sounding amalgamation of a bagpipe horn and vomit. Inui invented it two years ago, claiming the infernal contraption's ability to lift the spirit, all the while angling his eyeglasses such that the sunlight that falls on the lenses is fully reflected. The contraption has never sounded before, and when it does the humor is lost in a wave of pandemonium - the Order is supposed to be a haven, a place akuma can't reach.
During all this, there are only three of them protecting thousands. Three of them, and 'General Tezuka is away' feels like lead weight on the rose cross of their Exorcist's uniform. "This won't be the last of it," Eiji says, and his voice echoes in this sprawling room with the domed ceiling too high to reach, "But let's make it count anyway."
Kaidoh hisses and tightens his bandana. Echizen adjusts his cap and smirks. "Big words, Eiji-senpai." Eiji grins at him, and his eyes are very bright – even and especially under the cold statues and black walls of the Order.
Momo, Taka-san, Eiji thinks, Oishi, here we go.
They push the door open.
.
It is gruelling, it is painful, it is cruel, Inui thinks. It is never impossible, Inui believes, as he is vomiting and bleeding on the floor, crawling towards his revolver, the akuma approaching from his right-hand side. It's just a little more –
The akuma disintegrates. There is a rustle of cloth and Tezuka emerges into Inui's field of vision, back straight and coat billowing behind him. He glances at Inui and nods, "Good work, Inui." Inui's eyes widen, and he has barely started to say Tezuka's name when next to him a pair of feet alights on the floor with a soft 'tap'. Upturned lips produce a familiar chuckle. "Hello, Inui. Did you miss me?"
"Bookman," Inui says.
"Right now I'm Fuji Shuusuke," Fuji answers with a tilt of his head and a playful grin, and even as Inui's vision is blurring both his eyes are open.
.
The three of them protecting thousands – the concept sounds honourable enough. The concept's execution, by contrast, is bloody and sickening and painful. Protecting thousands pits them against hundreds and hundreds of akuma, of human souls chained to bloodthirsty machines, grants them wounds and bruises and scars that will not heal – as Eiji soars between walls and Kaidoh exchanges blow per blow on the ground, they know it's not honour they're fighting for.
Echizen is near epicentre of the pandemonium – second floor, right above Inui's lab on the Science Division floor – and it feels strange because everything is coming to him in a startling clarity, whether it be this swing of his weapon or that akuma on his left. The akuma seems coordinated, he thinks. A Noah.
Two minutes later and he is proven right. There is a Noah behind these akuma waves, controlling and commanding them with half-lidded eyes. Without giving the Noah time to react, Echizen rushes straight at him brandishing his weapon, slashing each and every akuma obstructing his path. He is close enough, and he takes a swing only for his weapon to be blocked with a forearm. He leaps away, but not before he sees brown eyes widen and hears a surprised 'Ow!' from the Noah.
The Noah turns to him with eyes wide and sparkling, as if seeing something for the first time. "That hurt!" he exclaimed, and his face breaks into a grin. "That actually hurt!" he repeats, and he starts doing a little jig. "Wow! I haven't felt pain like this since that time the Earl-" Echizen cuts him off with an attempted slash – he laughs and ducks.
"Hey, hey! What's your name? I'm Jirou!" Another slash, another dodge. "It's nice to meet you!" Jirou extends a hand towards Echizen, and Echizen jolts backwards just as Jirou's fingernails elongate – they slice the visor of his cap. Jirou straightens, and his grin widens as he says, "Really nice," and sounds like he means it.
"Ochibi!" Eiji yells, landing two paces to his right poised to attack. They maintain eye contact for a second before they rush, together, at Jirou. He keeps dodging and deflecting, his claws glinting underneath the Order's meagre light, and neither Echizen's swipes nor Eiji's kicks do any good. Jirou is ecstatic as he avoids every blow – his mouth keeps spewing exclamations: wow!, amazing!
Echizen is thrown backwards from an impact and he lands some fifty feet away – a groan spills from his throat. "This is fun – you're strong!" Jirou cheers from where he stands as he sends Eiji into a wall with such force that the wall crumbles.
Eiji's weapon manages to break his fall, and he struggles to get up, but the floor is collapsing from where he lies and he can feel himself slowly falling, falling – there is no longer ground under his body when a swift gust of wind sends him back up to his feet.
'Whoa!', he yells as he is flung back to where Echizen and Jirou are. "I – know – this – wind!"
In between Jirou's 'wow, how'd you do that?' Echizen glimpses brown hair below the cavity where Eiji fell. He couldn't contain the smirk stretching across his face as he points his weapon at Jirou, "Hey, it's all right if I kill you, right?"
"Sorry," Jirou stops his little excited skips and laughs, sheepish and with a hand in his hair, "The Earl asked me to do this." He rocks on his feet, and his eyes narrow as he crouches, fingernails turning again into claws. "So no, I have to."
"Too bad, then," Echizen says, as he sees Tezuka and Fuji appear in the corner of his vision, and his lips are quirked and there is golden fire behind his eye. "I found something I want to call home."
The world drowns again in white light – this time Echizen is not blinded.
.
The aftermath is a whiplash and tearful and bloody – hundreds of Finders and tens of Science Division researchers dead, even more unaccounted for under piles of dust and rubble. Only the hospital wing, safe and secure deep inside the building, remains intact. Ryuzaki is unapproachable for weeks, tired legs carrying her to hospital bed after hospital bed bringing bandages and antiseptic, and her granddaughter trails behind her, providing enough supplies, providing prayers and fresh mugs of hot coffee. The invasion remains a shock, and perhaps it forever will, but Inui is working on finishing the building's renovation layout and there are more than a thousand still alive.
It is after the aftermath that Echizen returns a visit to Fuji in the hospital wing."Yo," he smirks, hands-in-pockets and empty eye socket away from the shadow of his cap's visor. "We still match."
Fuji chuckles and leans upon the headboard. It is daylight and Echizen did not bother to close the curtains. "I wonder what my superiors will say," Fuji murmurs. There is a trill of laughter in his words, and his eyes are looking somewhere beyond Echizen's shoulders that are lifting in a shrug.
"If you're bothered by that, Fuji-senpai," Echizen drawls, making the honorific sound like the opening note of a rondo, "You're still mada mada dane."
all.
.
It is perhaps a year or two or a decade later that Echizen states, "We'll win this war, General," and his voice is something immovable. He does not need two eyes – one golden eye shines brightly enough. Around him are the other Exorcists – Kaidoh, posture straight and standing tall; Eiji, with a single button in the pocket closest to his heart, and Fuji, wearing a silver earring with a name on one ear.
Tezuka nods. They are five men fighting against an increasing army of one hundred, two thousand, three million, but when Tezuka says 'Let's go' there is not an ounce of hesitation in his voice.
.
.
end.
I ended it there. Which is ironic because I remember how annoyed I am at the DGM anime ending, but I think this is the best place for me to end. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
That said I can't believe I killed Momo. I can't believe I disintegrated Oishi and Hyotei. I can't believe I let Taka-san become butterfly feed. But most of all, I can't believe I made Atobe a bunny ears-sporting top hat-wearing moisturizer-needing lovechild of Mary Poppins and a great white balloon. HELP ME. Well, he didn't even appear in this fic, but just the image bothers the mind.
I'm sorry for making Hyotei the antagonists – I love Hyotei. I really do. I've only shown four Noah's, but the Silver Pair can easily enough be Jasdevi. Then I thought, that would make Hiyoshi... Sheryl. It scares me more than it should. As a side note, TAKI IS LERO. This is wrong.
Well, comments, criticisms and suggestions are always welcome. All mistakes are mine, so I would really appreciate it if anyone would point to me the typos and errors that make their way through my less-than-careful proofreading.