Chapter Two: Swords, Fans, and Fire
"Y'know, there's still time for you to go back!"
His taunts were an incessant stream ringing through the fog and into her ears as they walked. Along with his insults, the deep sound of his footsteps followed her as she walked in front of him. At one point, she thought having her back unguarded to him might not have been the smartest thing to do since all she had was the metallic fan she carried in her obi. Sho, on the other hand, had two swords hanging from each side of him. The fan would have only been able to do so much if he caught her with a surprise attack.
But honestly, this whole evening was already marred with bad decisions on her part. What's the harm of one more?
"How you gonna fight in that get-up anyway?" The young man goaded, and Yukiko could visualize the mocking grin on his face all too clearly. "Come on, do yourself a favor and turn back."
Turning back was probably the best thing she could do tonight. The kimono she was wearing wasn't the most optimal of armor as it limited her movements, so dodging, jumping, and running were out of the question. The metallic fan was sturdier than the paper ones she fought with in the past, but close combat was out of the question against someone like Sho. And really, she still had an unfinished English assignment waiting for her back in her room...
"It's impossible for me to think less of you already, so quit while you're ahead."
...and she suddenly felt that the English assignment could wait. "Be quiet."
To her astonishment, he actually did that much for her because the only sounds for a while were his heavy footsteps trailing behind her. She walked slower than she liked out of cautiousness; even though most of the fog had cleared up since last year, she still couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of her. She regretted not having the glasses Teddie made for her long ago. Without them, she doubted that she would have been able to an approaching Shadow before it was too late.
Where am I even going, anyway? She asked herself that question before, and thinking about it again only added to her anxiety. The only thing running through her head after entering the TV world was getting back at Sho for what he said about Yu-kun and her friends. When he landed after her, she just turned and walked away in a huff, her mind still set on giving the infuriating boy the fight he wanted so badly.
But as they continued to walk through the fog to wherever they were going, Yukiko's feet became heavier at each flaw her brilliant plan presented. Despite the growing sense of unease, she didn't want to turn back because she knew if she did, she would never hear the end of it from him. Sho didn't seem the type to forget about these things, after all.
And she really, really wanted a good reason to throw her fan at his head.
"You're serious about this?" He called at her back, breaking the silence between them.
"Isn't it obvious?" She replied as she kept walking.
"...you're really gonna fight me?" He asked again, disbelief tingeing his words.
This time she did turn her heard over her shoulder to face him. His expression was less jovial this time; instead, he looked more suspicious. "Yes. Unless you take back what you said about Yu-kun earlier."
The derisive laugh that followed her statement suggested that he wouldn't. "Like hell I will! Why should I take it back, especially if it's all true?"
"I guess we're fighting, then." She turned from him, only to see more yellow fog drifting in the distance.
"You don't even know where you're going, do you?"
Her back stiffened at his question, but she supposed this would be a good time as any to get directions from him. "Don't you have an arena set up like you did during the tournament? Do I have say, 'Bring on the ring!' or some kind of magic password?"
"I wasn't responsible for that stuff. Here's fine." He simply responded. When she turned around, Sho had already fallen into an offensive stance, one katana raised above his head and the other at level with his waist. "Last chance to turn back, Princess."
Though she had never fought him before now, Yukiko knew he was going to be a frightening opponent. Sho was most likely faster, stronger, and more experienced with battles than she was, which were all reasons why she wasn't going to give him a chance to get close to her.
In her mind's eye, Yukiko saw the image of what she wanted to summon. Seemingly out of thin air, a card materialized before her. One of its sides was emblazoned with the shadowed outline of a robed woman against a deep purple and rose background. The other side was decorated with a black and white masked face surrounded with a diamond pattern of different shades of blue. She opened her fan and extended it, and in a soft but clear voice, she spoke. "Persona." Her fan swiped through the card in one graceful arc, and there was a flash of light. When it faded, the almost ethereal outline of Konohana Sakuya appeared at her side. The sight of her Persona's pink wings, which resembled the cherry tree blossoms in spring, gave Yukiko a sense of comfort, especially considering who she was about to face.
"I'm not running away!" In contrast to her challenger, she raised her fan in a defensive stance and she cleared her mind of everything but the red-haired boy with the maniacal smile.
He expected this to be short -five minutes, maybe ten minutes tops. The princess didn't look like she was capable of balancing more than a few dinner trays, so this should've been a quick, fun way to pass the time. The kimono she was wearing and that flimsy little fan of hers didn't look like they would've helped much in a fight either, so needless to say, he was feeling rather confident in the beginning.
But well after ten minutes had passed, and the singed scent of burning fabric filled his nostrils after he barely dodged her Persona's fire attack for what must have been the fifth time, Sho couldn't deny the reality of things any longer.
He had underestimated Yukiko Amagi, and he was paying for it.
As soon as he rolled back onto his feet, her Persona-that pink, ridiculous monstrosity of hers-launched another pillar of flame at him. A string of expletives ran through his head as he swiftly leapt out of the way. The heat of the fire licked at the soles of his shoes, and when he turned back, he saw a dark spot that scorched the earth where he stood a second ago. From there a long trail of black ash led back to Amagi with her Persona hovering by her side.
This would be a hell of a lot easier without that fairy fluttering around. Since the beginning of the fight, every effort to get to Amagi was repelled by her Persona Each time he tried to rush her down, she summoned it just in time to block his attacks or to force him on the defensive with wave after wave of flame spells. Normally he would be having fun in any other circumstance. He loved the feeling of his blood running hot and the satisfaction he would get whenever he saw the fear in his victim's eyes.
But now, this was one of those rare fights when he didn't feel anything but frustration. All he had to show for his progress was a burnt shirt sleeve, a pair of soot-covered katana, and a head filled with all the things he wanted to yell at the Amagi girl.
If he was with me, this wouldn't be a contest.
"What's wrong, Princess?" He shouted, trying to drown out the sound of the flames and his own self-doubt. "Can't fight by yourself?!"
She glared in response but didn't take the bait. The girl knew just as well as he did that she couldn't hold her own against him in close-range combat. "Summon your Persona, then!"
As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take her up on that particular challenge, but he hid that little detail with a bark of laughter. "I don't need one to take you down!"
"Then prove it!" Amagi's Persona charged at him in a flurry of bright red embers that resembled, ludicrously enough, like flower petals. This time he was ready and met it head-on with a counterattack, deflecting its winged arm with his own sword. He took advantage of the rare opening by grabbing the hidden combat knife strapped to his waist and throwing it at the Persona's head. The knife struck it between its large yellow eyes, and the Persona dissipated into countless blue fragments before vanishing entirely. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, Sho tightened his grip on his katana and sprinted towards Amagi, whose eyes were now wide with alarm at seeing her Persona momentarily incapacitated. He grinned at the sight and finally felt the long-awaited exhilaration that was missing from most of the battle.
"You're mine!" He roared before swinging his right katana over her head. Amagi recovered quick enough to sidestep him, but not before the upper sleeve of her kimono caught the edge of his blade. The sound of fabric ripping was encouraging, and he continued his onslaught by charging at her with his shoulder. The force earned him a sharp cry from Amagi as she stumbled backward. Believing he had another opening, he swung his other katana in a wide arc, but the blade hit something metallic and sent a ringing sensation up his arm. She had blocked the katana with her fan and with a forceful motion, she pushed his blade away. Undeterred, Sho was already beginning to launch another chain of attacks, but he was blinded by a sudden blaze of pink energy and struck by an invisible force. He was weightless for a moment as he fell through the air in a brief tumble, and he briefly fought against gravity before landing on his feet.
Damn her. Whatever it was, Amagi's counter wasn't exactly powerful, but it was unexpected and succeeded in throwing off his attack. To his annoyance, his vision was still blurred. He blinked furiously until it finally cleared only to find Amagi surrounded by that pink light he saw earlier before being knocked away. She was suspended in midair, her feet dangling slightly above the ground and her black hair dancing around her. Her Persona had reappeared behind her, shielding her with its wings and bathing her in that strange light, which he suspected had some kind of healing properties. After an instant, the light disappeared and Amagi sent her Persona away. With its dismissal, the girl landed back on her feet and faced him again, her fan at the ready.
The brief reappearance of the girl's Persona snuffed out his one moment of victory. But what angered him more was Amagi herself. It was only a matter of time until her stamina would run out and she would no longer be able to keep her Persona at her side, but she still kept her defensive stance like she truly believed she had a chance of winning against him.
The way she fought reminded him of that damn Narukami.
"It's no use, Princess!" He spat at her, pulling himself upright. Even though he was able to stand, it took some effort to keep himself from swaying on his feet. He felt slightly dizzy, and to make him more irritated, everything around him appeared to be out of focus. "We both know you can't keep going on like this!"
"I won't give up!" A few strands of her black hair were askew across her face from the fight, but she didn't brush them back. All she concentrated on was him.
He laughed in an attempt to annoy her, but the effort made him lightheaded. "Still mad at what I said about your leader? "
With a flourish of her fan, she summoned her Persona once more and sent a concentrated stream of fire at him. It took some effort to evade, but he was unscathed. He could tell that she was getting tired since the attack was slower than the last one, but he took little joy from this realization. Right now every movement he took, no matter how trivial, was draining him bit by bit.
It wasn't his style, but he would have to rely on his words to throw her off her game and buy himself some time. "The 'bonds' and other crap you think make you stronger? In the end, it's all pointless!"
"You wouldn't understand!" She didn't follow up with another attack, but her posture was tense. Her Persona was nowhere to be seen, and he assumed its dismissal was due to Amagi wanting to conserve her energy.
"Still convinced I'm the bad guy, eh?" He leered, stalking forward with his katana. "You really ought to be disappointed that my plan didn't work out."
The outrage on her face was almost priceless. "What are you saying? You forced my friends to fight each other in some deranged tournament so you could end the world!"
"What I'm saying is that I could have saved you, if your Leader let me."
Her lips parted slightly at this. "S-save me? From what?!"
His face tilted upwards and he spread his arms open, his swords pointing skyward. "You wanted it before, right? To leave this town? I remember seeing you on the Midnight Channel after they found the first two bodies."
Sho's eyes went from the hazy sky above them and back to the girl. He wasn't even close enough for an attack, but she looked as if he had stricken her.
"You were bored of this backwater town as much as I was. It may have been for different reasons, but you hated living here, huh? And I bet a part of you still does, what with having to wait hand and foot on the ungrateful assholes that stay at your inn."
Amagi said nothing but her fan was still in her hand, waiting for him to make a move.
"If everything went like it was supposed to, I could've saved you the trouble of living the rest of your days in the middle of nowhere. But instead, Narukami chose you idiot Persona users and the rest of the shitty world instead of nice, easy oblivion."
Despite his vision being less than perfect, he could make out the conflicted expression on her unsmiling face. As much as he liked the fact that he was keeping her on her toes, he was perplexed by how she looked right now. Unlike how she looked back in his room at the inn, what he saw wasn't pure anger. It wasn't fear either-he's seen that plenty of times to know what it looked like, and he didn't see it in Amagi. Sho didn't doubt that at least some small part of her was afraid, but the girl didn't let it distract her from fighting, so why would it get to her now?
He covered up his own confusion with another taunt. Sho shifted his weight to his back leg and pointed one of his katana in her direction. "What's with that long face? Don't want to admit that I'm right?"
"You really haven't changed."
He heard the words clearly enough, but the way she said them and the way she looked at him as she did...they may as well have been speaking different languages. Something hot crept up his neck as he lowered his katana to get a better look at Amagi. She was still armed with her fan, but she broke out of her stance. Instead she just stood there, her eyes trained on him with that weird look still on her face.
"Yu-kun said he hoped you would. So did Labrys," The girl continued her blabbering, her voice slightly raised as she did. "When you left, they both hoped that you would grow. They wanted you to learn more about people. Maybe even a little about yourself."
The heat he felt at the back of his neck flared upwards, and now his head was pounding. Not wanting Amagi to catch this, he raised his swords to prepare for another attack. "Shut up."
"But you didn't learn anything. I can see that."
The pounding in his head worsened. Amagi was now a blurry figure in pink. "I said shut up, Princess. Fight's not over."
Amagi's shoulders straightened, unaffected by his warning. "Even after everything that happened, you still can't see that you're wrong."
He bit the inside of his cheek. The pain from his teeth helped him keep his focus on the fight and on her. "The hell are you giving me a lecture for? " He posed the question before laughing bitterly. "You've been raised in a comfy little cage all your life! You never had to lift a damn finger to get anything you wanted! There was always someone to get it for you!"
The pain spread across his forehead, and his scar throbbed agonizingly. "You don't know a damn thing about me! Where does a sheltered little princess like you get off telling me that there's anything worthwhile about this shitty world or the shitty people in it?!"
The sound of the fog moving through the stagnant air was the only sound between them. The throbbing in his head and across his eyes was almost unbearable now. He was sure Amagi couldn't hear it, but a high-pitched ringing resounded in his ears. His teeth bit even harder against the inside of his cheek, and the metallic taste of blood seeped onto his tongue. His eyes could see her through the fog, standing motionless like some elegantly dressed doll cut from porcelain. Even during this temporary moment of lucidity spurred from the excruciating pain that resounded in his head, she still watched him with a look to her eyes that was incomprehensible.
"You're so intent on hating this world that you're blind to everything else." She spoke over the fog and the ringing in his ears. "You really still are an angry child."
Something snapped inside of him, and as soon as it did, he was practically flying across the ground to get to Amagi. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" He heard someone with his voice screaming. Even though it sounded like him, he didn't pay attention; all that mattered was her. He didn't know why she was making that face at him, why she was looking at him like the way she was, but he could tell she wasn't scared of him, and that was all wrong.
He had to set things right. He had to make her afraid.
He held his katana at either side of him as he sprinted to her, intent on bringing the dual blades down at her with his full strength behind them. He had forgotten the searing pain that plagued him just now and he could see everything with almost frightening clarity, including the flash of yellow eyes and pink feathers as Amagi's Persona rushed toward him again at full speed. Amused that the girl would try the same tactic again, he continued to dash toward the winged Persona. At the very last second before it could strike him, he held his breath and evaded the Persona's attack with a fast, brief leap through the air. It hadn't even realized that he was no longer in its line of sight after he landed on his feet. The Persona was well behind him as he continued his charge towards Amagi, who unlike her guardian, had seen him.
The world was so clear that if he had stopped, he would have been able to count every strand of hair on Amagi's head and he would have seen his own reflection in her large, dark eyes before he slashed down his right sword at her. As he expected, she parried his attack with a precise movement of her fan. What she didn't predict was that his strike was merely a feint, and soon after the sparks of his blade flashed through the air from the impact of striking her fan, Sho fell to his hands and using them to balance himself, he swept his legs at Amagi's feet. She was too shocked to make a noise as she fell backwards, hitting the ground with a solid thud.
He immediately returned to his feet in one fluid motion and stood over her, swords in each hand. She was on her side, trying to recover. Whether she had lost temporary movement of her legs from the impact of the fall or the tightness of her kimono, which was stained and torn at places from the battle, he couldn't tell. He watched with a smug sense of contentment as she slowly propped herself up with her hands. Her long hair hid her face, but he could imagine the look of fear that he was sure was there.
"I guess Sho showed you, huh?!" He jeered at her, drawing near her with his swords casually resting against his shoulders. Now that their fight was done, the adrenaline was leaving him, and the pain from earlier began to make itself known again. His eyes couldn't keep their razor-sharp focus from earlier and for some reason, there was a coldness in the air that was seeping into his skin and slowly settling into his bones.
But still, he wanted to take a little more time to rub the salt in Amagi's wounds.
"Still think I'm a kid, Princess?"
Half a second later he saw Amagi's hand lash out in his direction, and suddenly an object was flying right at his head. He brought up his sword reflexively and swung it away, his eyes following her fan as it was fell uselessly to the ground. "Come on, quit being a sore loser-"
When his attention went back to her, he finally got a good look at her face. If there was fear there from earlier like he wanted to believe, there was no trace of it now. Instead, all he could see was her resolve to keep fighting, as futile as it may have been. She was still on the ground, but her figure was cast in the blue glow of her Persona, which floated protectively behind her. Before he could utter a single thing, Amagi raised her hand, and the Persona lifted its own as if to mimic her.
A burst of crimson light bloomed before him and sent him flying backwards. He could smell something burning again as the world whirling around him in a spiral, but he held onto his weapons as tightly as he could, as if the dual blades were his only anchor to consciousness. Unlike earlier, gravity won this time and he felt his body falling on something hard. When he finally stopped moving, he laid there on his side against the ground, waiting for everything around him to stop spinning. But it was taking far too long, and the mixed taste of ash and blood in his mouth was making him sicker every second that passed.
Come on...get up. Get up, damn it...!
He tightened his grip onto the swords at his sides and lifted them up. With great effort, he drove both blades onto the ground to serve as his support. He gritted his teeth and worked through the pain that wracked his body as he lifted himself up from the ground. The blades shook tremulously from underneath as he raised himself to his knees, and then to his feet. During all this he expected Amagi to take advantage of him taking his time to recover, but the follow-up attack never came. When he lifted his head in her direction, she was just standing there. The hand that wielded the metallic fan hung like a useless thing at her side, and the other was clutching the outer collar of her kimono. It was like she was waiting for something.
More confusing still was the damn look on her face. Now there was something that looked like fear in her eyes, but it wasn't the kind of fear that he wanted to make her feel. No, she looked like she was injured, which made little sense. The sleeves of her kimono were sliced open here and there, but she had no serious wounds. There were no cuts, no blood, and yet she still looked like she was in pain.
But from what?
"Why the hell...are you just...standing there?" The question rolled off his tongue in a voice that was tired and cracked. He didn't want to sound weak, especially in front of her. He took a step towards Amagi, planting his foot against the ground in an attempt to keep himself up. His knees slightly buckled and the world was beginning to blur at the edges of his vision again. It took more strength than he would have liked to stand, and his hands hung limply at his sides, his fingers barely hanging onto the grip of his katana.
"Stop this." Her voice sounded urgent, almost like a plea. She wasn't the livid, determined girl he provoked her into fighting him. That pained expression on her face gave her a softer look, and she appeared inexplicably smaller and somehow more fragile.
He hated it.
"Quit looking at me...like that... " His words were almost slurred now, lifting his foot to take another step towards the girl. "It's...pissing me off..."But as soon as his sneaker made contact with the ground, he lost control of his legs, and Amagi and the yellow fog around her rushed upwards.
And then there was nothing.
During the entirety of the short walk back to the entrance, Yukiko kept looking over at the unconscious boy as he was carried by her Persona. Konohana Sakuya was supporting Sho from under his arms, lifting him so his feet wouldn't drag along the ground as the winged Persona drifted beside Yukiko. Keeping her Persona tethered to her constantly like this was a strain on her energy, especially after she tried healing Sho's wounds before moving him, but it was a small price to pay. It would have been impossible to have carried him by herself. Besides, any amount of exhaustion she felt was nowhere near what Sho was going through. His face was the palest it had looked all this week, and when she tried to wake him to consciousness, she saw the beads of cold sweat that dampened his bangs.
The outline of the TV became more distinct through the fog. When they reached it, she looked up to Konohana Sakuya.
"You can bring him down now." She instructed softly. Her Persona lowered the boy slowly enough for Yukiko to get under his left arm so she could support the taller boy with her shoulder. When she dismissed her Persona completely, the addition of the full weight of another person almost sent her falling, but she managed to keep both of them up. She wouldn't have to stand with him long-she just needed to get him through the TV.
Trying to ignore the warmth rising to her cheeks from having someone, especially a boy, being so close, her arms wrapped around Sho's waist as tightly as she could and she plunged headfirst into the TV screen. The portal widened, pulling them both in, and she closed her eyes as they fell.
The sensation of plummeting through the air immediately stopped when she felt the solidity of the floor that she landed on. Her eyes flew open, only to find darkness surrounding her. She held her breath and laid motionless against the tatami mat, straining to hear the sound of approaching footsteps and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom around her, which was such a sharp contrast against the brightness of the TV world.
After a few minutes had passed, the rain that softly fell outside and her own subdued breaths were the only noises she could hear. She breathed a sigh of relief, but then she suddenly became aware of the heavy arm that was around her shoulders. She shifted from underneath its weight and turned on her side, only to find how close Sho's face was to her own. Heat spread across her face and down her neck from the realization, and the sound of the rain was drowned out by the rapid beating of her heart.
From where she was, she could see the spots of dark ash that smudged the pallid skin of his face and the way his body was heaving from the irregular motions of his ragged breathing. Even when he wasn't awake, Sho didn't know any peace.
She decided she could find another time to be mortified about the situation later and tried to come up with a solution to get him over to his futon, which would be a more comfortable place for him to rest than the floor. On this side of the TV, she was on her own. Knowing she wouldn't be able to lift the unconscious boy, who was heavier and taller than her, she decided the only practical solution was to drag him. She carefully squirmed out from underneath his arm and got back to her feet. She then bent down to grab both his arms, and with as much remaining strength that she had, she pulled him across the floor. As she moved him, the already ripped sleeve of her kimono loosened from the strain of dragging her guest, but she tried to push the state of her dress aside. A kimono could always be washed and stitched back together, but the same couldn't be said of Sho.
She set his arms back down when she reached the edge of the futon. Without taking a moment to catch her breath, she knelt beside Sho and placed her underneath his back. Again she felt the blush bloom across her cheeks upon feeling the taut muscle underneath the fabric of his shirt, but she pushed her feelings of embarrassment aside as she pushed him onto his side and rolled him onto the padded mattress until he was resting on his back again. Relieved that this laborious (and flustering) experience was over, Yukiko allowed herself to take a moment to rest. She sat next to the futon, extending her legs along the tatami mat. Her eyes caught the dirt and soot that stained her kimono, but at this point, she was beyond getting worked up about it.
She looked over at Sho, who still looked like he was in discomfort. When she thought back to the battle, she recalled one detail that had bothered her: Sho had fought by himself during the entire thing. Back then it was more of a curiosity that she quickly forgot since she was forced to defend herself for most of the fight, but now the absence of his Persona was more glaring than ever. Yu-kun told all of them that Sho had gained the ability to summon a Persona during their last battle, so why didn't it appear?
She considered the possibility that Sho didn't summon his Persona because he didn't think she was worth wasting the energy, but that didn't seem right. Behind every vicious slash of his blade and lightning-quick movement of his feet was a burning desire to win. He may not have thought much about Yukiko as a person, but he fought with such ferocity that it was hard to believe that he didn't take the battle seriously. Had he not let his guard down towards the end, it would have been a solid victory for him.
Maybe that's why I was able to land that hit on him...he thought the fight was over. Unconsciously her fingers touched her collarbone where he had charged at her with his shoulder. The skin was sore to the touch and a bruise may have formed later, but that was her most grievous injury. Even without his Persona, Sho was a terrible force to deal with, yet there was no sense of bloodlust behind his attacks. He fought with the single-minded pursuit of winning against her, but if he really wanted to seriously hurt her, he could have done just that when she was on the ground. Several months ago he was capable of kidnapping Kirijo-san and her allies to use them as bait for her friends, and on top of that, he savagely beat down Adachi-san for betraying him during the climax of the tournament. The boy back then was bent on destroying Inaba and the rest of the world, and she couldn't say for certain if he would have thought twice about cutting her down if she was in his way.
But the boy in this room, the one who looked like death warmed over as he was sprawled on the futon, didn't kill her. And until this night, he kept to himself and didn't go out of his way to instigate a fight. Those were all actions uncharacteristic of the sadistic nihilist that Yu-kun had stopped back in spring.
And I told him that he hadn't changed...I said that to him.
Spurred by her ever-constant guilt, she knelt over his sleeping form and lowered her hand over his forehead. She hesitated at first, but she brushed aside his thick red bangs and settled the back of her hand against his forehead. Her other hand went to her own forehead to compare their temperatures, and as she feared, Sho's skin was hot and clammy to the touch.
He may be running a fever, she thought anxiously. She was about to take her hand back, but it lingered there. With his hair brushed back, his scar was in full view before her. The two deep gashes ran across the skin of his forehead and the bridge of his nose, finally ending at his cheeks. She felt something tug at her chest at the sight of it, and Yukiko was suddenly overcome with an inexplicable sadness. She must have sat there for a while before finally realizing that her hand was still on his forehead and she snatched it away, grateful that he wasn't awake. She wasn't sure what would be more humiliating: him finding her like that or what he would say.
Yukiko only allowed a few seconds for her to feel embarrassed and then pulled the futon's blankets over the boy to cover him. When she saw the time displayed by the hands of the clock hanging on the wall, she realized now would be the perfect time to look for any medicine that may have been in the storage room. Since she felt she was partially to blame for his condition, she had to do something about it, and feeling sorry for herself and feeling sad for Sho wasn't going to make anything better. She got back up and walked softly to the screen door that led into the hallway. After confirming that no one was around, she stepped out.
He could hear muffled voices chattering inanely over his head. He wished he could tell them to leave him alone, but the back of his throat was so parched, like someone had forced him to gulp down sand and each grain had torn away at his vocal cords as it went down. He wanted so badly to tell the voices to shut up, to tell them to go find his dad because he would know what to do. The voices continued to talk, and something as sharp as a needle started to pick away at the back of his head. The dryness in his throat felt worse and he tried to call out to the voices, but he still couldn't. The needle moved faster now, digging deeper into his head each time it fell. Nausea swept over him as he laid there powerless, and something hot was constricting itself around him, squeezing out the air from his lungs.
The voices went abruptly silent, and his panic at having been left alone kept him pinned down . His own body was fighting against him, overpowering him to stay on his back so he could lay there and die. His fingers dug into the palms of his hands as he fought back against the trap that was his own flesh and bones, and he finally managed to crack open his eyes. Against the blinding whiteness that surrounded the air, he could see the outline of someone standing over him. It didn't look like the tall, skinny silhouette of his father, but whoever it was seemed familiar all the same. Most of its face was hidden in shadow, but the eyes weren't-they pulsed with an eerie light, lending them the appearance of cold blue stars.
No words came out when he tried to speak. Although his voice was gone, the shadowed figure understood the pain he was in and reached out its hand towards him as he laid there. Its hand rested against his forehead, sending a blessedly cool wave that washed over him entirely and the suffocating heat that threatened to smother him immediately receded. The pounding in his head lessened to a series of dull throbs, and his lungs began to fill with air again as his breathing returned.
His eyes could open a little more now, and he tried to get a better look at the figure, but it had taken a step back. He tried to talk, but there was nothing. He felt his lips forming the words but they weren't coming out. The panic he felt before returned twofold, and he didn't know why, but the last thing he wanted was this person to leave his side. When it turned away, his hand shot out and his fingers grasped tightly around its wrist.
At his touch, the figure turned back to face him and the white light was finally giving way to reveal the figure's face...
A pair of large, almond-shaped eyes stared at him from a heart-shaped face framed with long black hair. His chest fell at the realization that they were the wrong color.
"Um...how are you feeling?" Amagi asked in a tentative tone.
He had caught her hand as it hovered over his forehead, and he looked at the small wrist that was trapped in his vice-like grip. Her fingers were holding a damp white cloth. "What are you doing?" He demanded to know, hiding his relief at being able to talk.
"Trying to keep your temperature down. Could you let go of my hand please?"
Doing the opposite of what she requested, he held onto her. His eyes briefly roamed the room that he came to know as his temporary lodgings at the Amagi Inn. "How did I get here?"
To her credit, she didn't falter before his line of questioning. "My Persona carried you over to the TV and we went through."
"I heard voices," he went on, not knowing if he could fully trust the girl's account of things that may or may not have happened while he was knocked out. "Where are they?"
At this she feigned ignorance. She was pretty good at it, too; she genuinely looked like she had no idea what he meant. "There isn't anyone else here-"
"LIAR!" He interrupted her, still keeping her wrist in his grip. He wanted to sit up, but everything in his body was screaming at him to stay down. "I know you called Kirijo and your friends while I was out cold! How big of an idiot do you take me for?!"
Suddenly his chest began heaving, and the nausea he experienced in his dream returned and overtook him. The room began to slowly spin, like it had gone off its axis. The only thing that remained anchored in place was the girl in front of him, who reacted to his outburst with unnatural calmness. "I told you before not to call me that."
"I don't give a damn about what you tell me." He seethed through his teeth, trying to hang onto his quickly fleeting consciousness and his grip around Amagi's wrist. His mind was working through a deep fog, his thoughts barely forming in his head. "You...I won't let you ruin everything..."
"What?"
"I...I have to keep looking." He wasn't sure what he was saying anymore, but it was important for her to hear this. "You can't keep me here... soon enough, I'll be back in the TV..."
A sharp pain cut through his head, as if someone had just buried a knife through his temple. He winced and bit back a groan, but it was too late-the girl had seen. "You're getting worse. Please, let go of my wrist." She repeated with more urgency.
His chest, which felt strangely hollow, heaved with the dry laugh that escaped his lips. "Why? So you can call your friends?"
That strange expression appeared on her face again-the one that made her look like she was in pain and he wasn't sure if it was from him holding her wrist. "I'm not going to."
Amagi wasn't going to trick him-of course she was going to call for help! If fighting her had taught him anything, it was that she was patient enough to wait for an opening to exploit. "Why...should I...trust you?"
He thought he had her there, caught in her own lie. But her dark eyes never looked away from him when she answered in a calm, even voice. "Because we made a promise. Remember?"
At her words, the memory of the deal that he had struck with her passed through his sluggish mind. It was after he snuck into his room that Amagi promised she would hide him here in exchange for the safety of her friends. On that night she was wearing the same kimono she had on now, except its sleeves were intact back then.
"A promise..." He wasn't sure why, but he could feel himself relax back against the futon. Slowly, he felt his fingers loosen their grip around her wrist. Unlike what he thought she would do, she didn't grab her hand right away. Instead she moved the cloth over him and lowered it, shielding his eyes from the light of the hanging ceiling lamp. The cotton was still damp with the water it was soaking in, sending pleasant chills against his skin.
If Amagi said anything else, he didn't hear her. The last thing he remembered was the soft brush of her fingertips against his forehead as she adjusted the cloth, and then his treacherous body succumbed to sleep.
Writer's Note: Whoo, Chapter 2 down. I want to thank everyone for the reviews, favorites, and follows-they're really encouraging and I love to see them! I know this ship is nonexistent, but I couldn't stop thinking about what could happen in my head, and here we are. Hurray for the powers of imagination, sugar, and free time !
Really, thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think!
