He fell, of course, as all stars will do eventually. Going out in a flash of combustion as bright as the tears that stung the corners of his eyes, and as hot as the screams that were ripped from the boy's throat, ragged and desperate. The boy who had hated and feared and hoped for Vector with such fiery passion it had opened some part of the Barian's heart and forced him see with blinding sight.
The boy was stronger than Vector had ever been, and had weeped for him- not out of pity, but out of love. It was wrong- Vector shouldn't have felt that kind of despair at seeing him cry. Fear and pain were feelings meant for lesser beings.
The God agreed.
The Barian who once held the brilliance of six suns was pulled into the heart of his god, where the acid sea tore through his weak human guise like sodden paper and burned itself down to his core, corroding into every crack of his being. He drowned in it, felt it break his soul apart into raw energy, just as he had done to those he had called comrades.
With the gasp of a drowning man, he reached out for what was left of them, hoping that they would be capable of the same mercy as a simple human boy. But this time there was no one to catch his hands and hold him fast, no answering resonance, and certainly no one to smile and call him Shingetsu one last time. His garnet heart spluttered with the dying light of his soul, trying to hold itself together against the will of a deity, and it ultimately failed.
The Phecda star blinked out of existence.
Air filled lungs and he spluttered.
Before he can even register his suddenly renewed existence, Vector turns himself over and throws up dark acid water, staining the bone dry grass beneath him. Tremors wrack his body from the effort of coughing, and there is a horrible headache pounding though his forehead.
His skin feels tight and oversensitive, stinging, as if he had been in the sun all day. As if it had been burned away and then regrown too quickly. The light October breeze is just shy of being too cold, and every blade of golden grass beneath his hands feels sharp and real.
His hands are soft and delicate, he notices. Pink, especially at the knuckles. He blinks at them, breathing roughly. These are not his granite claws, nails sharpened to razor tips that would clack against his palms whenever he would make a fist. These are weak, mailable, and entirely too mortal. Human- but not by his consent.
He hates when things happen without his consent.
Biting down swears, Vector cards his hands though hair he knows is bright orange, pats down a chest that's smooth and without Barian crests decorating it, wipes at lips that feel natural and yet shouldn't be there at all. Human, human, human.
Panicking, he reaches inward towards his core, the center of his energy, and grabs at whatever he can find. There's an answering thrum of power, but it's greatly diminished and not nearly what he's hoping for. He tries to tear a hole into the Barian World, but can't find any purchase and his power gives a dry cough before giving out on him altogether.
Shit.
Vector's never been trapped on Earth before. There's always been a way back to the Barian World if he needed it. It's been countless ages since he's felt this powerless, and he would laugh if there wasn't a worried lump in his throat.
His bones pop and groan as he stands up, finally noticing the small, sloping field around him. Browning trees and thick bushes uphill, the outskirts of Heartland City down.
He huffs, which turns into weak coughing and grimaces. He's only a little surprised to find he's been dropped near Heartland. Whatever gods that are still left had thought it a real laugh to put him in walking distance of the human city he'd very much like to never see again.
There's no helping it though, he can't and won't sleep in the woods.
The Kamishiro mansion was, for a long time, an empty and dark mark on the outer edges of Heartland City. It's Victorian architecture standing out awkwardly and slowly gathering cobwebs in an otherwise clean and modern city. It was only recently that it's family had returned, bringing with them a handful of unrelated guests.
Vector stands on the edges of the yard, shoes very carefully not touching the grass, and lookes up at it's imposing size. The windows glint orange with the setting sun, and he can't see past the panes to check for signs of life. This is a stupid idea; they'll turn him away with curses and decks drawn, and they would have every right in every world to do so. He has no choice, though. No way back into the Barian world, no money in his pocket to rent a hotel room, and certainly no intention of knocking on the Tsukumo family's door.
The thought of facing Yuma makes his heart skitter.
The door's knocker was a very old silver, dark in places were hands touch less often, and hard to lift. It bangs down much too efficiently and he can feel it through his shoes.
It's quiet for a long moment, leaving Vector to stand staring at the painted wood. Maybe they are't home. Maybe they've all gone out on some adventure together and he would be able to sneak in through a window. Maybe the pounding of his heart would shut up for one god-forsaken moment-
The door swings forward suddenly, swiping tip of his nose before he can jump back. There stands the lady of the house, bare footed and looking like every other Earth girl, not some noble, alien priestess.
She stares at him a moment, registering what has dragged itself onto her front step.
"You," Rio hisses, and there is a fire in her eyes. She moves forward slightly, as if to hit him, before she catches herself on the door frame. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"
Habit and pride slide a lazy smirk onto his face, "I heard casa-de-Kamishiro was the place to go if a Barian wanted a place to crash."
"And you think you've earned the right to it?!" She fumes, voice raised and fists tight. He's reminded of how she tore through the school clubs that thought to disrespect her. This is a very stupid idea, but his mouth keeps running.
"I think a good hero would take mercy on a poor sinner like me." When she only stares furiously at him he deflates a little and adds, "Is your brother home?"
"Don't think he hates you any less," she grinds out before turning slightly to shout for her twin.
AN: Since I don't sit down and write much, it might be a few weeks until the next chapter is up. But, if I get positive review it'll certainly boost my confidence ;0