*~* Hidden Fires *~*
Note: the events of this story occur just before Vol. 10: Fate & Destiny.
Chapter 1: Enslaved to a Dream
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Some possible dream, long coiled in the ammonite's slumber/
Is uncurling, preparing to lay on our talk of kindness/
Its military silence, its surgeon's idea of pain."
-W. H. Auden
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kusanagi Mamoru collapsed in front of the tiny, dilapidated shrine
hidden deep within the forests outside of Tokyo. Streams of copious green
blood flowed down his bare chest and dripped onto the worn tatami. His
breath came in short gasps; a gaping wound in his side seemed to suck in and
out with every breath. *Damn you, Murakumo,* he cursed mentally, dragging
himself painfully up the steps into the Shinto temple. *How did you do it?
How did you brainwash Kaede into helping you, you demonic bastard?*
Kusanagi had been hot on the trio's trail ever since he had seen
Kaede during the rebirth of the god Susano-oh. Just that morning, he had
finally found where they had been hiding and had broken into their cavern.
Somehow, the tiny infant god had created horrific monsters to fend him
off. After hours of struggle, he had finally won; but during the fight Kaede
and Murakumo had somehow slipped away. Even now, one image burned
in his tormented mind: the image of Kaede solemnly watching him as one of
the Aragami stabbed him in the chest . . . .
"Kaede," he groaned, collapsing in a heap in front of the altar. He
could feel his wounds tingle as his superhuman healing powers began to
kick in; his strength vanished as his body tapped into his already strained
energy reserves. "Why . . . why . . . ?" His slitted eyes drooped shut as he
succumbed to his weariness; the last thought that drifted thorugh his mind
before he collapsed was, *Kaede . . . Momiji . . . be all right . . . . *
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Soft sobbing could be heard echoing through a small, deserted alley in
the hotel district. "Please, let me go," the young woman whimpered softly as the
shadowed men crouched around her. She clutched the remnants of her blouse
over her battered, bleeding body; despite being raped and beaten, she was still
trying to keep a shred of dignity. "Please . . . . "
One man knelt beside her and ran a bloodied finger down her chest.
"We're not done with you yet," the rough voice hissed. "Not yet . . . . "
Her eyes grew wide with terror as he lifted a gleaming foot-long knife
over her throat. "Now . . . *now* we're done," he smirked, plunging the blade
into her throat.
The last thing she saw before dying was the throbbing red mitama
buried in the man's forehead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The hideous Aragami-mantis reared up on its hind legs and let out
a supersonic roar as the bazooka fire slammed into its abdomen. "All
RIGHT!" Sawaguchi Koume cheered, shaking her now-empty gun at the monster.
"Koume! Takeuchi! Hold your fire!!" Matsudaira Azusa, the
TAC's leading scientist, picked up a printout from the laptop computer and
scanned it hurriedly. "We can't risk destroying the Aragami in its current
state!"
Takeuchi Ryouko, from her position with the Ground Self-Defense Forces
across the field, asked through the intercom, "Why not? What's wrong, Matsu?"
Yaegashi Yoshiki spoke up from his position in front of the computer.
"The Aragami's bodily fluids are made up of an extremely alkaline substance. If
those fluids were to leak out onto the surrounding area, all life in this
area would be wiped out!"
"To destroy it," Matsudaira continued, "we're going to have to
neutralize the alkaline substances in its body. We should, however, be
able to eliminate it once the new vector weapon gets here."
Koume and Takeuchi raced back to where the main group was
standing. "So what are we gonna do till then?" Koume demanded.
A jeep suddenly swerved towards the group, Kunikida
Daitetsu at the wheel. It squealed to a stop in front of them; Fujimiya
Momiji popped out of the back of the jeep, her arms filled with assorted
materials. "Here's the supplies you wanted, Mrs. Matsudaira!" She handed
the older woman a large bottle filled with a clear substance and a specialized
hypodermic needle that was over half the teen's height.
"Thank you, Momiji," the scientist replied, pulling on a pair of
chemical gloves. "Takeuchi, distract the Aragami while I load this
into the rocket launcher!"
As the sharpshooter ran back out, her guns blazing, Matsudaira
carefully poured the the liquid into the hypo and hurriedly shut the lid, loading it
into a specialized rocket launcher. "Koume, you need to aim for a place containing
a large amount of bodily fluids. Be quick; I don't know how long it will be before
the acid eats through the hypodermic needle!"
"No problem, Matsu!" Koume ran back out into the battlefield,
aiming at the monster. Dropping to one knee, she fired; the explosion knocked
her flat on the ground. Fortunately, the shot was true; the rocket/hypo soared
through the air and lodged itself into the monster's eye. Almost
immediately, poisonous fumes began billowing from the Aragami's body; it
shuddered and roared one last time as its body began to dissolve. Huge
chunks of smoldering plant-flesh began to fall from the monster as it was
being digested from the inside out. The Aragami swayed unsteadily, then
began to fall directly towards the jeep where Kunikida and Momiji were
waiting-
A strong pair of arms grasped the both of them around the waist
and yanked them out of the car just before the Aragami smashed the jeep
flat. The person carrying them suddenly stumbled, flinging them across
the field. "Owww..." Momiji moaned as Kunikida helped her up from where she
had landed. "What happened - Kusanagi! *Kusanagi*!!"
Momiji pushed the TAC head aside and dashed towards the prostrate
figure laying on the ground. Her Aragami-created protector raised his head
slightly and stared at her through unfocused eyes; a thin trickle of green blood
oozed from the corner of his mouth, and his body seemed to radiate heat. "Are . . .
are you OK, Momiji?" he gasped weakly.
"Kusanagi, what's wrong? What's happened to you?!?" She struggled to
help him up, then pulled back as he screamed in agony. Her hands came back
stained verdant, dripping with his blood. "Kusanagi?"
His eyes slowly fluttered closed as his breathing became
even more shallow. "Mo . . . mi . . . ji . . . ."
"No . . . . " Momiji was pushed aside as the team gathered him up into
the truck, Matsu barking orders at them as she pulled out her extensive
first-aid kit. "Kusanagi . . . . "
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Matsudaira quietly shut the door leading into the TAC's
mini-infirmary. Her face was studiously set in a neutral expression; she avoided
looking directly at the team. "I've run just about every test I can, and I still can't
isolate the main cause of Kusanagi's illness," she said softly. "Of course, the
tests are designed with a *human* patient in mind, so . . . ." The scientist folded
herself into a nearby chair and sighed a bit, the only indication she would ever
give of frustration.
"What about his other injuries?" Kunikida asked, passing
Matsudaira a small cup of hot tea.
"Well, I've stitched up the wounds in his chest and shoulder as best
I can, but what puzzles me most is that they should be healing up on their own.
From what we've seen, it would seem that Kusanagi has extraordinary
powers of regeneration; for some reason, possibly due to this illness, his
self-healing powers are not working." She paused to sip some of the tea. "If he
doesn't improve within the next forty-eight hours, I'll have to put him in
surgery to repair the damage."
"Um . . . Mrs. Matsudaira?" The team turned to look at Momiji. Her
normally cheerful demeanor was wiped away, leaving her withdrawn and
unusually quiet. Her face was drawn with worry; her eyes were shimmering
with unshed tears. "Is . . . is Kusanagi going to be all right?"
"I can't say for sure, but," and the older woman laid a gentle
hand on the teen's shoulder, "Kusanagi was in excellent health before
this. That improves the odds quite a bit. And Koume and Yaegashi are at
the hospital now picking up some medications that should help him."
"We can get him the best help in the nation, right, Matsu?"
Takeuchi spoke up, trying to be helpful. Her words fell flat in the tense
silence.
Momiji suddenly stood up, clenching her hands into fists. "Could
I . . . go in and see him?" she asked in a tightly controlled voice.
"Of course, Momiji-" The teen disappeared through the door before
waiting for an answer.
The trio sat in silence for several seconds before Kunikida finally
spoke up. "So what *are* the odds of Kusanagi making it, Matsudaira?"
He leaned forward intently, his voice lowered so that no one in
another room could hear.
The scientist glanced at him, them lowered her eyes to the table. "The
best we can do now . . . . is pray," she said.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Murakumo paced the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse,
idly studying the five humans in front of him. Each man's face was blank;
the red mitama buried in each of their foreheads glowed slightly in the
darkness. "You've done your jobs fairly well, considering how inferior you
humans are," the Aragami reluctantly conceded, casually slipping a long
platinum blade out from his forearm. "But it's a shame . . . you five have
outlived your usefulness."
There was a sudden flash of silver, five arcs of blood spewed into
the air, and five severed heads tumbled to the floor. Murakumo studied the
carnage blandly as he withdrew the blade; in his hand was the five red
mitamas that had previously been within the humans. "Soon, imperfect soul,"
he smirked as he walked away, "soon we will be rid of you . . . forever!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The darkened infirmary was deathly quiet inside; the only sounds
were of the forest of monitors clicking and humming. Kusanagi's labored
breathing, barely audible over the machines, was a chilling reminder to the
teenaged Kushinada of the severity of the situation. She hesitated just beside
the door, then forced herself to step further inside. *Kusanagi,* she
thought, *what happened to you? It hurts so much to see you like this....*
A low groan snapped her out of her thoughts. She instantly threw
aside her fears and rushed to his side. "Kusanagi?"
There was no answer; the teenager leaned forward slightly, for the
first time actually seeing the extent of his injuries. His bronzed skin
was several shades lighter than normal, the result of prolonged blood
loss. A blood-stained bandage wound around his right shoulder and
continued around his abdomen. The mitamas on his chest throbbed with
a sickly blue glow. Momiji gently reached out and brushed a stray lock of
his hair from his gaunt face; the heat of his skin was intense, almost scalding.
She abruptly withdrew her hand. *What am I doing? If he caught me-*
The thought was broken off by another glance down on him. His face was
contorted in pain, yet behind the pain seemed to linger a type of sadness
that made her heart ache. "Oh, Kusanagi . . . . I'm so sorry . . . . "
A tear slipped down her cheek and splashed onto the man's bare
chest. She loved him so fiercely that it made her soul ache; seeing him
now was almost more than she could bear. Momiji leaned forward slightly,
hesitantly, her lips trembling. "I love you, Kusanagi . . . please be all
right . . . . " Trembling even harder, she took one of his hands in her own and
laid it against her cheek, letting her tears run against it. "Please . . . . "
Outside the windows of the TAC, a single cherry blossom drifted in
the wind.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*~* The delicate scent of cherry blossoms was completely nullified by
the overwhelming odor of fresh blood. The grass in front of the tiny shrine was
soaked in crimson; two corpses lay sprawled and dismembered across the
lawn. The priest's body was draped over the shrine steps, half of the sacred
mirror sticking through the man's neck. Everything that was holy had been
violated by the spirits of death.
Sitting just in front of the gory scene was a quietly awed infant. Young
Kusanagi Mamoru, just turned a year old, stared up at the wavering eight-headed,
plant-like Aragami known as Yamata-no-Orochi with open curiosity. He was too
little to comprehend his parents' deaths; he just knew that there had been
screaming, then his parents collapsed to the ground, and then a metallic stench
that could almost be tasted filled the air. The silence was marred only be the
soft hissing of the giant demon wavering in front of him.
"Kusanagi . . . . " it hissed; the infant gaped at it, recognizing his name.
"I shall give you seven of my family's souls; use them to grow strong and protect
the princess Kushinada . . . . " Seven of its heads arced high into the air, pointing
directly at the child. Faster than the eye could see, the monster's heads plunged
down and into the child's body. The bright blue glow seared into his flesh; three
gleaming beads implanted themselves in his chest, while the other four embedded
themselves into his hands and feet.
Instantly, the infant's body began changing. His pupils pulled themselves
into cat-like slits; his skin flashed into an orange-copper color; his thick mop of
shaggy black hair turned deep green. His internal organs were forcefully altered
by the invading mitamas, some developing new parts while others disappeared.
Yamata-no-Orochi's remaining head leaned back and laughed as its creation
began bawling; it snatched the child up in its tentacles and melted back into the
forest.
The last sound to be heard before the Aragami slipped completely out
of sight was an infant's agonized cries. *~*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Matsudaira quietly opened the door into the infirmary; Koume followed
her, packing an immense cooler. The scientist flicked on an overhead light and
advanced into the room. Momiji was sitting protectively next to Kusanagi, one
of his hands gripped in hers. Startled, she glared at the women for a second
before recognizing them. "Mrs. Matsudaira, Koume! I . . . I wasn't expecting-"
"Hey, Momiji, we got the stuff right here." Koume dumped the cooler
onto a nearby table. "Damn, that thing's heavy!" She paused uneasily to look
at Matsudaira; at some unknown signal, she backed up and said, "Look, guys,
I'm due for target practice . . . . Momiji, if you need a ride or want to, you know,
hang out, tell me sometime, OK?"
The teen smiled slightly at her friend's clumsy but pure-hearted attempt.
"Thanks, Koume," she said, "but I think I'll stay here for a while. Y'know, just in
case . . . . " She watched her go, then turned to the other woman. "What is that,
Mrs. Matsudaira?"
Matsudaira sighed and opened up the container; mists from the dry ice
inside veiled her face from view. "There are some antibiotics and other
medications in here, but I can't give a guarantee that they'll work." When Momiji
looked up at her, she hastily explained, "Until I run a few more tests to find out
the cause of this illness, anything I give him now is just to alleviate the symptoms."
"Is there anything I can do? I mean, to help out?"
Matsudaira looked over her shoulder at the worried teenager, then
nodded. "Of course, Momiji. Why don't you get the IV stand out of the closet
for me?"
"Okay." She reluctantly let go of her protector's hand and walked over
to the closet. Her mind was on anything but the task at hand; she absently
yanked too hard on the IV stand and-
*CRASH*
The older woman quickly turned around to look at the tangled heap
in the floor. "Are you all right, Momiji?" she asked, helping the teen to her feet.
"I'm . . . I'm fine, I'm just so clumsy . . . . " She stuffed the rest of the
junk back into the closet as Matsudaira began setting up the IV. The scientist
worked quietly, muttering to herself under her breath. Momiji had to strain to
make out what she was saying.
" . . . . negative test results . . . . need a blood transfusion . . . . contact
botany department . . . . maybe a broad-spectrum antimicrobal? Need a
biopsy . . . ." She paused to look up at the teen. "You may want to step out
for a minute. I have to change the dressings on Kusanagi's wounds, and it . . .
it's not a pretty sight. I really think-"
"I'm staying."
The flat tone of Momiji's voice told Matsudaira that there was no
changing the teen's mind. She sighed again and motioned for the teen to sit down.
"All right then," she accepted, drawing on a pair of sterile gloves. She
methadotically began unwinding the bandage from the young man's shoulder;
the teen had to turn away as the last strip of gauze peeled away from the wound.
The ragged, six-inch-long wound was swollen and oozing with infection.
Matsudaira calmly began washing the laceration as Momiji tried to settle her
stomach. The silence was deafening.
Finally, as Matsudaira finished rewrapping the wound, she turned
to the teen and sat down beside her hesitantly. The dread in the woman's
face was evident. "Momiji, we need to talk about Kusanagi."
"He's really sick, isn't he?" The scientist nodded. "I never thought
anything like this would happen. I mean, he's always bounced right back
every other time he gets hurt . . . . But he'll be all right now, won't he? After all,
we're giving him medicine and-"
"Momiji." The sadness in Matsudaira's eyes made the teen stop in her
tracks. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but . . . . "
"What?" She leaned forward, a small seed of fear blooming in her heart.
"What is it? You've got to tell me!"
The scientist swallowed heavily, then bowed low to the girl. "I'm sorry,
Momiji, but I- I don't think Kusanagi's going to live through this."
Momiji sank down in her chair, tears welling in her eyes. "You mean . . . Kusanagi's going to . . . to die?" She stared at the man she loved, watching the
slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed; then, with a sudden ferocity, she
snapped, "No way! I'm not going to let him die! He's come through worse
things than this before; I believe in him! He can't die . . . . I- I never told him
that I love him . . . . " Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She brushed them
aside angrily and begged, "Please, Mrs. Matsudaira . . . . How can I help him
get better?"
The older woman started to protest, then finally relented. "Come with
me; I'll show you how to monitor him . . . . "
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Kunikida Kaede, the Aragami-appointed Kushinada, gently laid the
infant god Susano-oh down on a tiny futon to sleep. "Will we now be able to
rid ourselves of the other Kushinada?" she asked the figure lurking in the
shadows of the cave as she stood up.
"Of course," Murakumo said arrogantly. "Though why you insist on
saving that imerfect soul Kusanagi is beyond me." He paused, his eyes
narrowing dangerously as his voice took on a possessive, almost jealous tone.
"Are you still pining after that fool?"
"No, I'm not!" Kaede whirled on the Aragami, a fierce light in her eyes.
"I just don't see it necessary to kill off what could be a valuable asset to our
cause."
Murakumo looked skeptical. "Very well, then," he sighed, "but the
*minute* he tries to fight me . . . . "
" . . . . You will neutralize him *without* killing him! Now leave before
you disturb the slumber of our lord." She settled down to sleep on the floor of
the cavern, not even sparing him another look.
The Aragami bowed once to the god, then left the chamber. *Only
with the death of that imperfect soul can the Aragami rise again,* he snarled
mentally, pulling the deformed red mitamas out of his pocket. *I don't care
what you want, Kushinada, but I will kill him one way or another!*
Note: the events of this story occur just before Vol. 10: Fate & Destiny.
Chapter 1: Enslaved to a Dream
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Some possible dream, long coiled in the ammonite's slumber/
Is uncurling, preparing to lay on our talk of kindness/
Its military silence, its surgeon's idea of pain."
-W. H. Auden
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kusanagi Mamoru collapsed in front of the tiny, dilapidated shrine
hidden deep within the forests outside of Tokyo. Streams of copious green
blood flowed down his bare chest and dripped onto the worn tatami. His
breath came in short gasps; a gaping wound in his side seemed to suck in and
out with every breath. *Damn you, Murakumo,* he cursed mentally, dragging
himself painfully up the steps into the Shinto temple. *How did you do it?
How did you brainwash Kaede into helping you, you demonic bastard?*
Kusanagi had been hot on the trio's trail ever since he had seen
Kaede during the rebirth of the god Susano-oh. Just that morning, he had
finally found where they had been hiding and had broken into their cavern.
Somehow, the tiny infant god had created horrific monsters to fend him
off. After hours of struggle, he had finally won; but during the fight Kaede
and Murakumo had somehow slipped away. Even now, one image burned
in his tormented mind: the image of Kaede solemnly watching him as one of
the Aragami stabbed him in the chest . . . .
"Kaede," he groaned, collapsing in a heap in front of the altar. He
could feel his wounds tingle as his superhuman healing powers began to
kick in; his strength vanished as his body tapped into his already strained
energy reserves. "Why . . . why . . . ?" His slitted eyes drooped shut as he
succumbed to his weariness; the last thought that drifted thorugh his mind
before he collapsed was, *Kaede . . . Momiji . . . be all right . . . . *
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Soft sobbing could be heard echoing through a small, deserted alley in
the hotel district. "Please, let me go," the young woman whimpered softly as the
shadowed men crouched around her. She clutched the remnants of her blouse
over her battered, bleeding body; despite being raped and beaten, she was still
trying to keep a shred of dignity. "Please . . . . "
One man knelt beside her and ran a bloodied finger down her chest.
"We're not done with you yet," the rough voice hissed. "Not yet . . . . "
Her eyes grew wide with terror as he lifted a gleaming foot-long knife
over her throat. "Now . . . *now* we're done," he smirked, plunging the blade
into her throat.
The last thing she saw before dying was the throbbing red mitama
buried in the man's forehead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The hideous Aragami-mantis reared up on its hind legs and let out
a supersonic roar as the bazooka fire slammed into its abdomen. "All
RIGHT!" Sawaguchi Koume cheered, shaking her now-empty gun at the monster.
"Koume! Takeuchi! Hold your fire!!" Matsudaira Azusa, the
TAC's leading scientist, picked up a printout from the laptop computer and
scanned it hurriedly. "We can't risk destroying the Aragami in its current
state!"
Takeuchi Ryouko, from her position with the Ground Self-Defense Forces
across the field, asked through the intercom, "Why not? What's wrong, Matsu?"
Yaegashi Yoshiki spoke up from his position in front of the computer.
"The Aragami's bodily fluids are made up of an extremely alkaline substance. If
those fluids were to leak out onto the surrounding area, all life in this
area would be wiped out!"
"To destroy it," Matsudaira continued, "we're going to have to
neutralize the alkaline substances in its body. We should, however, be
able to eliminate it once the new vector weapon gets here."
Koume and Takeuchi raced back to where the main group was
standing. "So what are we gonna do till then?" Koume demanded.
A jeep suddenly swerved towards the group, Kunikida
Daitetsu at the wheel. It squealed to a stop in front of them; Fujimiya
Momiji popped out of the back of the jeep, her arms filled with assorted
materials. "Here's the supplies you wanted, Mrs. Matsudaira!" She handed
the older woman a large bottle filled with a clear substance and a specialized
hypodermic needle that was over half the teen's height.
"Thank you, Momiji," the scientist replied, pulling on a pair of
chemical gloves. "Takeuchi, distract the Aragami while I load this
into the rocket launcher!"
As the sharpshooter ran back out, her guns blazing, Matsudaira
carefully poured the the liquid into the hypo and hurriedly shut the lid, loading it
into a specialized rocket launcher. "Koume, you need to aim for a place containing
a large amount of bodily fluids. Be quick; I don't know how long it will be before
the acid eats through the hypodermic needle!"
"No problem, Matsu!" Koume ran back out into the battlefield,
aiming at the monster. Dropping to one knee, she fired; the explosion knocked
her flat on the ground. Fortunately, the shot was true; the rocket/hypo soared
through the air and lodged itself into the monster's eye. Almost
immediately, poisonous fumes began billowing from the Aragami's body; it
shuddered and roared one last time as its body began to dissolve. Huge
chunks of smoldering plant-flesh began to fall from the monster as it was
being digested from the inside out. The Aragami swayed unsteadily, then
began to fall directly towards the jeep where Kunikida and Momiji were
waiting-
A strong pair of arms grasped the both of them around the waist
and yanked them out of the car just before the Aragami smashed the jeep
flat. The person carrying them suddenly stumbled, flinging them across
the field. "Owww..." Momiji moaned as Kunikida helped her up from where she
had landed. "What happened - Kusanagi! *Kusanagi*!!"
Momiji pushed the TAC head aside and dashed towards the prostrate
figure laying on the ground. Her Aragami-created protector raised his head
slightly and stared at her through unfocused eyes; a thin trickle of green blood
oozed from the corner of his mouth, and his body seemed to radiate heat. "Are . . .
are you OK, Momiji?" he gasped weakly.
"Kusanagi, what's wrong? What's happened to you?!?" She struggled to
help him up, then pulled back as he screamed in agony. Her hands came back
stained verdant, dripping with his blood. "Kusanagi?"
His eyes slowly fluttered closed as his breathing became
even more shallow. "Mo . . . mi . . . ji . . . ."
"No . . . . " Momiji was pushed aside as the team gathered him up into
the truck, Matsu barking orders at them as she pulled out her extensive
first-aid kit. "Kusanagi . . . . "
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Matsudaira quietly shut the door leading into the TAC's
mini-infirmary. Her face was studiously set in a neutral expression; she avoided
looking directly at the team. "I've run just about every test I can, and I still can't
isolate the main cause of Kusanagi's illness," she said softly. "Of course, the
tests are designed with a *human* patient in mind, so . . . ." The scientist folded
herself into a nearby chair and sighed a bit, the only indication she would ever
give of frustration.
"What about his other injuries?" Kunikida asked, passing
Matsudaira a small cup of hot tea.
"Well, I've stitched up the wounds in his chest and shoulder as best
I can, but what puzzles me most is that they should be healing up on their own.
From what we've seen, it would seem that Kusanagi has extraordinary
powers of regeneration; for some reason, possibly due to this illness, his
self-healing powers are not working." She paused to sip some of the tea. "If he
doesn't improve within the next forty-eight hours, I'll have to put him in
surgery to repair the damage."
"Um . . . Mrs. Matsudaira?" The team turned to look at Momiji. Her
normally cheerful demeanor was wiped away, leaving her withdrawn and
unusually quiet. Her face was drawn with worry; her eyes were shimmering
with unshed tears. "Is . . . is Kusanagi going to be all right?"
"I can't say for sure, but," and the older woman laid a gentle
hand on the teen's shoulder, "Kusanagi was in excellent health before
this. That improves the odds quite a bit. And Koume and Yaegashi are at
the hospital now picking up some medications that should help him."
"We can get him the best help in the nation, right, Matsu?"
Takeuchi spoke up, trying to be helpful. Her words fell flat in the tense
silence.
Momiji suddenly stood up, clenching her hands into fists. "Could
I . . . go in and see him?" she asked in a tightly controlled voice.
"Of course, Momiji-" The teen disappeared through the door before
waiting for an answer.
The trio sat in silence for several seconds before Kunikida finally
spoke up. "So what *are* the odds of Kusanagi making it, Matsudaira?"
He leaned forward intently, his voice lowered so that no one in
another room could hear.
The scientist glanced at him, them lowered her eyes to the table. "The
best we can do now . . . . is pray," she said.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Murakumo paced the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse,
idly studying the five humans in front of him. Each man's face was blank;
the red mitama buried in each of their foreheads glowed slightly in the
darkness. "You've done your jobs fairly well, considering how inferior you
humans are," the Aragami reluctantly conceded, casually slipping a long
platinum blade out from his forearm. "But it's a shame . . . you five have
outlived your usefulness."
There was a sudden flash of silver, five arcs of blood spewed into
the air, and five severed heads tumbled to the floor. Murakumo studied the
carnage blandly as he withdrew the blade; in his hand was the five red
mitamas that had previously been within the humans. "Soon, imperfect soul,"
he smirked as he walked away, "soon we will be rid of you . . . forever!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The darkened infirmary was deathly quiet inside; the only sounds
were of the forest of monitors clicking and humming. Kusanagi's labored
breathing, barely audible over the machines, was a chilling reminder to the
teenaged Kushinada of the severity of the situation. She hesitated just beside
the door, then forced herself to step further inside. *Kusanagi,* she
thought, *what happened to you? It hurts so much to see you like this....*
A low groan snapped her out of her thoughts. She instantly threw
aside her fears and rushed to his side. "Kusanagi?"
There was no answer; the teenager leaned forward slightly, for the
first time actually seeing the extent of his injuries. His bronzed skin
was several shades lighter than normal, the result of prolonged blood
loss. A blood-stained bandage wound around his right shoulder and
continued around his abdomen. The mitamas on his chest throbbed with
a sickly blue glow. Momiji gently reached out and brushed a stray lock of
his hair from his gaunt face; the heat of his skin was intense, almost scalding.
She abruptly withdrew her hand. *What am I doing? If he caught me-*
The thought was broken off by another glance down on him. His face was
contorted in pain, yet behind the pain seemed to linger a type of sadness
that made her heart ache. "Oh, Kusanagi . . . . I'm so sorry . . . . "
A tear slipped down her cheek and splashed onto the man's bare
chest. She loved him so fiercely that it made her soul ache; seeing him
now was almost more than she could bear. Momiji leaned forward slightly,
hesitantly, her lips trembling. "I love you, Kusanagi . . . please be all
right . . . . " Trembling even harder, she took one of his hands in her own and
laid it against her cheek, letting her tears run against it. "Please . . . . "
Outside the windows of the TAC, a single cherry blossom drifted in
the wind.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*~* The delicate scent of cherry blossoms was completely nullified by
the overwhelming odor of fresh blood. The grass in front of the tiny shrine was
soaked in crimson; two corpses lay sprawled and dismembered across the
lawn. The priest's body was draped over the shrine steps, half of the sacred
mirror sticking through the man's neck. Everything that was holy had been
violated by the spirits of death.
Sitting just in front of the gory scene was a quietly awed infant. Young
Kusanagi Mamoru, just turned a year old, stared up at the wavering eight-headed,
plant-like Aragami known as Yamata-no-Orochi with open curiosity. He was too
little to comprehend his parents' deaths; he just knew that there had been
screaming, then his parents collapsed to the ground, and then a metallic stench
that could almost be tasted filled the air. The silence was marred only be the
soft hissing of the giant demon wavering in front of him.
"Kusanagi . . . . " it hissed; the infant gaped at it, recognizing his name.
"I shall give you seven of my family's souls; use them to grow strong and protect
the princess Kushinada . . . . " Seven of its heads arced high into the air, pointing
directly at the child. Faster than the eye could see, the monster's heads plunged
down and into the child's body. The bright blue glow seared into his flesh; three
gleaming beads implanted themselves in his chest, while the other four embedded
themselves into his hands and feet.
Instantly, the infant's body began changing. His pupils pulled themselves
into cat-like slits; his skin flashed into an orange-copper color; his thick mop of
shaggy black hair turned deep green. His internal organs were forcefully altered
by the invading mitamas, some developing new parts while others disappeared.
Yamata-no-Orochi's remaining head leaned back and laughed as its creation
began bawling; it snatched the child up in its tentacles and melted back into the
forest.
The last sound to be heard before the Aragami slipped completely out
of sight was an infant's agonized cries. *~*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Matsudaira quietly opened the door into the infirmary; Koume followed
her, packing an immense cooler. The scientist flicked on an overhead light and
advanced into the room. Momiji was sitting protectively next to Kusanagi, one
of his hands gripped in hers. Startled, she glared at the women for a second
before recognizing them. "Mrs. Matsudaira, Koume! I . . . I wasn't expecting-"
"Hey, Momiji, we got the stuff right here." Koume dumped the cooler
onto a nearby table. "Damn, that thing's heavy!" She paused uneasily to look
at Matsudaira; at some unknown signal, she backed up and said, "Look, guys,
I'm due for target practice . . . . Momiji, if you need a ride or want to, you know,
hang out, tell me sometime, OK?"
The teen smiled slightly at her friend's clumsy but pure-hearted attempt.
"Thanks, Koume," she said, "but I think I'll stay here for a while. Y'know, just in
case . . . . " She watched her go, then turned to the other woman. "What is that,
Mrs. Matsudaira?"
Matsudaira sighed and opened up the container; mists from the dry ice
inside veiled her face from view. "There are some antibiotics and other
medications in here, but I can't give a guarantee that they'll work." When Momiji
looked up at her, she hastily explained, "Until I run a few more tests to find out
the cause of this illness, anything I give him now is just to alleviate the symptoms."
"Is there anything I can do? I mean, to help out?"
Matsudaira looked over her shoulder at the worried teenager, then
nodded. "Of course, Momiji. Why don't you get the IV stand out of the closet
for me?"
"Okay." She reluctantly let go of her protector's hand and walked over
to the closet. Her mind was on anything but the task at hand; she absently
yanked too hard on the IV stand and-
*CRASH*
The older woman quickly turned around to look at the tangled heap
in the floor. "Are you all right, Momiji?" she asked, helping the teen to her feet.
"I'm . . . I'm fine, I'm just so clumsy . . . . " She stuffed the rest of the
junk back into the closet as Matsudaira began setting up the IV. The scientist
worked quietly, muttering to herself under her breath. Momiji had to strain to
make out what she was saying.
" . . . . negative test results . . . . need a blood transfusion . . . . contact
botany department . . . . maybe a broad-spectrum antimicrobal? Need a
biopsy . . . ." She paused to look up at the teen. "You may want to step out
for a minute. I have to change the dressings on Kusanagi's wounds, and it . . .
it's not a pretty sight. I really think-"
"I'm staying."
The flat tone of Momiji's voice told Matsudaira that there was no
changing the teen's mind. She sighed again and motioned for the teen to sit down.
"All right then," she accepted, drawing on a pair of sterile gloves. She
methadotically began unwinding the bandage from the young man's shoulder;
the teen had to turn away as the last strip of gauze peeled away from the wound.
The ragged, six-inch-long wound was swollen and oozing with infection.
Matsudaira calmly began washing the laceration as Momiji tried to settle her
stomach. The silence was deafening.
Finally, as Matsudaira finished rewrapping the wound, she turned
to the teen and sat down beside her hesitantly. The dread in the woman's
face was evident. "Momiji, we need to talk about Kusanagi."
"He's really sick, isn't he?" The scientist nodded. "I never thought
anything like this would happen. I mean, he's always bounced right back
every other time he gets hurt . . . . But he'll be all right now, won't he? After all,
we're giving him medicine and-"
"Momiji." The sadness in Matsudaira's eyes made the teen stop in her
tracks. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but . . . . "
"What?" She leaned forward, a small seed of fear blooming in her heart.
"What is it? You've got to tell me!"
The scientist swallowed heavily, then bowed low to the girl. "I'm sorry,
Momiji, but I- I don't think Kusanagi's going to live through this."
Momiji sank down in her chair, tears welling in her eyes. "You mean . . . Kusanagi's going to . . . to die?" She stared at the man she loved, watching the
slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed; then, with a sudden ferocity, she
snapped, "No way! I'm not going to let him die! He's come through worse
things than this before; I believe in him! He can't die . . . . I- I never told him
that I love him . . . . " Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She brushed them
aside angrily and begged, "Please, Mrs. Matsudaira . . . . How can I help him
get better?"
The older woman started to protest, then finally relented. "Come with
me; I'll show you how to monitor him . . . . "
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Kunikida Kaede, the Aragami-appointed Kushinada, gently laid the
infant god Susano-oh down on a tiny futon to sleep. "Will we now be able to
rid ourselves of the other Kushinada?" she asked the figure lurking in the
shadows of the cave as she stood up.
"Of course," Murakumo said arrogantly. "Though why you insist on
saving that imerfect soul Kusanagi is beyond me." He paused, his eyes
narrowing dangerously as his voice took on a possessive, almost jealous tone.
"Are you still pining after that fool?"
"No, I'm not!" Kaede whirled on the Aragami, a fierce light in her eyes.
"I just don't see it necessary to kill off what could be a valuable asset to our
cause."
Murakumo looked skeptical. "Very well, then," he sighed, "but the
*minute* he tries to fight me . . . . "
" . . . . You will neutralize him *without* killing him! Now leave before
you disturb the slumber of our lord." She settled down to sleep on the floor of
the cavern, not even sparing him another look.
The Aragami bowed once to the god, then left the chamber. *Only
with the death of that imperfect soul can the Aragami rise again,* he snarled
mentally, pulling the deformed red mitamas out of his pocket. *I don't care
what you want, Kushinada, but I will kill him one way or another!*