Okay... this is my first Okami fanfiction. It takes place right after the fight with Ninetails. There IS an implied pairing, which is pretty obvious because for one, Oki doesn't show up yet at the time, and as far as I can tell, Issun... doesn't play the flute. And er... it's kinda sad too. So please don't read if you don't like.
And no... I don't own anything. Not even the air I breathe. But that doesn't stop me from breathing, right? -sweatdrop-
Impurity
Blood. That was all she could see. It seeped through her gaping wounds, splashing a majestic crimson unto the floor.
She had no more energy left. Her breath came out in heavy, raspy pants. She was sick- sick and tired of it all. How many battles had been fought? She couldn't remember. The unending pointless struggles that only ended up with blood splattering on soil, on snow, or wooden floors. But no matter whose it was, no matter where it fell, blood would always write itself in crimson red.
Yet here she was again- fighting the same unending war- a different enemy, with different tactics, yet still the same taste of blood, the same clouds of gloom and misery haunting the air. But now, it had all finally come to an end. She had found, at last, a momentary fragment of peace only to be shattered as soon as it came, but peace nonetheless. The ephemeral tranquility that she could only find by the soothing texture of escaping life that leaked out with the blood between her fangs.
With distant eyes that saw only half of the world, she gazed at her fallen enemy. One glazed crimson eye of stone glared back at her.
In the end, after all that struggle- a struggle of freedom, of mastery- a struggle without end, without beginning, without purpose except for to be the one left standing, the one left breathing, of good versus evil- she had won. But what different was good from evil? She could recall no longer. The evil killed the good, and she killed them- the evil in turn. So did that make her - them- evil as well? For ultimately, good and evil alike both sought the same things- freedom and happiness, hope and light. The only difference was how they interpreted them- what those petty, long-forgotten words meant to their crying, lonely souls trapped in the empty void of disregard.
The world was swirling- the sky bleeding unto the ground, the tears of the moon entwined in the gasps of the dying sun, hell crashing at heaven's door. Yin and Yang mixed themselves into an indistinguishable shade of gray- a misty tangle that could be separated no more.
She almost felt a sort of pity for him- that tired, old fox that lay by her blood-caked paws, who had failed the ultimate trial of existence- whose purpose of existence had disintegrated into the reaches of darkness as his life came to an end.
"You and I… are more alike than you think…"
Had she imagined it with her fading sanity, or did a coarse croaking whisper escape from the fox's bloody muzzle? But when she looked again, he was still. Unmoving. A shell of the burning, scorching black flame he once was, but a flame nonetheless. And then, she realized something which made her feel even sicker. It wasn't pity that she was feeling.
It was empathy.
Empathy for the tired, dying fox whose freedom now lay amongst the faded whispers of the long-gone wind- the one whom she had freed from the blue yonder- the heavens that to him was hell. And once again did he stand, until the last breath, until the last drop of blood had been shed. The fox that lived his last breath glaring up at her with eyes glistening with hatred, blood pooling from his broken neck- just as the sparks of life fled from the gaps of her entity. And it was then that she realized how different that they were- as night and day, as good and evil… but in the end, ultimately, they were as one.
All of a sudden, her strength failed her. She could no longer stand. She crumpled to the floor, a mass of broken bones and bloody matted fur- and nothing more. She was empty. Tainted. Impure. A mere empty glass case which had once contained the light of the sun. But somewhere, in the deep reaches of her heart, something urged her on. And to be vanquished, to die out- that was to fail, to lose everything she had cherished and sought. Something in her was mourning. Grieving for something- someone she would soon lose along with the fragments which rested of her soul. But how could she fear losing something so badly if she never had it in the first place?
Suddenly, her weary head lifted- as she beheld the sound of a flute playing in the distance- a sad, mourning note that stretched across the shattered sky. A melody, but no matter how sorrowful, how woeful- a sound still foreign to the world of darkness that threatened to consume her entire being. Her eyes snapped open. Even amidst the scent of blood, her nose caught a faint scent that no matter how distant, how eroded, she could never forget. Ecstasy surged into the depths of her soul.
He had come. Or at least, her flickering light had cast, then carved his shadow unto the tablet of her existence.
The pain was gone. Blood no longer caked her snow-white fur, and her body shone with radiance greater than the sun to which she had once been bound- reciprocal of the elation which swelled in her heart. With one last, joyful bark, she sprang from the ground towards the sky, the thorns of gravity beneath her breaking into a million pieces.
With a final dreadful rumble, the ground split, crumbling away. Amidst the darkness, none noticed the worn, lifeless body of an old, weary fox and the broken, battered form of what once was a pure white wolf, now drenched in crimson, fall into the crevice to the underworld. As abruptly as they stood to face each other, they were gone.
Lightning crashed, and thunder roared. Waves writhed in agony, the earth trembling in fear. But even as the darkness cleared and light broke into the world, the heavens stood still…
And wept in sorrow for the sun that would rise no more.
Meh... I hope it wasn't too horrible. I didn't get anyone to read it beforehand, so I might've made some mistakes... But if you don't mind, please... review?
