Warnings: Of all bizarre places to steal the format of Hell from, I got it from a Star Trek book: I, Q. (A good book, by the way.) But it's not explained until the next chapter anyway, so ha ha! ::coughs::
Chapter Six
Oriya offers to drive us to the hotspot Tatsumi gave me directions to, which strikes me as . . . kind of funny, I guess. I can't really picture him behind the wheel of a car. He looks like he stepped out of the wrong century, anyway.
"So do you have any idea what we're facing?" Muraki asks. He doesn't seem to have anything with him. I don't know how he prepared for going into Hell, but it wasn't with things. I didn't see much to do other than grab a stack of Tsuzuki's protective ofuda from his coat pocket. They're stronger than mine. I can't use his offensive ones, though. I have no idea how much 'jitsu, if any, will work in Hell.
"Not much of a clue, unfortunately." I have my gun, if that might help. Which I sincerely doubt. I mean, bullets might hurt demons, but they'd never kill it. Especially not any powerful ones. And I only have one extra clip of bullets. But it makes me feel better. "All I know is that we're sure to be fighting demons, and Hell has five levels. We have to get to the fifth."
"That's informative," Muraki says mildly. "Any idea what these levels are like, or how we travel between them?"
"All Tatsumi could tell me was that they parallel the five levels of death," I snap. I'm in a bad mood, but who can blame me? Stuck with Muraki of all people. "That ring any bells for you?"
His face creases in a frown for a second, then it vanishes. "Actually, it does sound familiar. But I can't quite place it."
I roll my eyes at him. "Anyway, that's all we have. It's not like people normally go in and out of Hell. The only other thing he told me was that if we die in Hell, we're stuck there. Not that it matters to you." I give him a critical look. "You're going to wind up there anyway."
He glares at me. If looks could kill . . . well, if looks could kill, I probably would have killed Muraki before he could kill me. I'm very proud of my glare. "I'll keep that in mind," he says softly. I have images of him killing me just before we get to leave. Okay, not good. He did promise, but why do I not trust him? Funny question, right?
Right.
Well, here we are. The express train to Hell.
"Good luck," Oriya says to Muraki. Muraki just nods at him and I open the gateway the way Tatsumi instructed me. "Hey, one question," Oriya says, frowning suddenly. The portal is gaping open before us. "Once you get in, how do you get out?"
Muraki looks at me.
I look back at him.
"We'll figure it out," Muraki calls back nonchalantly.
We step through the portal.
~~~~
Well. Hell is . . . hellish. About the way you would expect a place like this to look. Rocks, fire, brimstone. The whole bit. Wailing and gnashing of teeth. "This is far too ordinary," I murmur as we pick our way down a steep path. The rocks keep sliding out from underneath our feet.
"You know why it's like this?" Muraki asks, actually offering me a hand to get down to solid ground. Oh, a river of lava. Remind me to avoid that in my near future. "Because they don't want people to go looking for the other levels. Give everyone what they expect, and they'll never realize there's more to it than face value."
"Good point." We walk single file next to the river. "But then the question becomes, how do we get past the face value ourselves?"
It's blisteringly hot. We've only been walking for about ten minutes and my clothes are practically sticking to my body from sweat. All I want is a glass of water, but did I think to bring any provisions? No, because I'm a fucking idiot. Not that I'll die if I don't get any, but it's going to be a damned inconvenience.
"Here." Muraki hands me a bottle of water.
I blink at it, then take the cap off and sip. I have to force myself not to gulp half the bottle down. Then I try to hand it back, but he gestures for me to keep it.
By the time fifteen minutes have passed, I've taken off my jean jacket and tossed it by the side of the path. Muraki has lost both his coat and his suit jacket, though he's carrying the former but has put down the latter. He's also unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up. I have a feeling it's about as far from impeccable as I'll ever see him.
"You should leave that coat," I say, wiping my forehead off for about the hundredth time.
"I like this coat," he says. "Besides, for all we know, the next level will be below freezing."
As much as I hate to admit it, he's got a point. I hope Shinigami can't get frostbite. It's never been tested.
"Look, this is stupid," I say, leaning against a cliff face. "We're just overheating ourselves. There's got to be a smarter way to go about this."
"Oh?" He looks at me. "And what would you suggest?"
"I don't know!" I half-yell in frustration. "I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing, all right?"
"Don't yell," he says. "Someone will hear you."
It takes me a long minute, but I manage to force myself to regain some semblance of calm. Take a few deep breaths of the air, which stings at my lungs. "Okay."
"Can you feel Tsuzuki's presence at all?" he finally asks.
"Yes," I say. "But it's very faint. Like he's very far away. We noticed it once before when I had to go on assignment and I ended up carrying the investigation all the way to Hong Kong. It got faint then, too. I can feel his existence, but it's not clear enough for me to read any of his emotions . . . or his location. We could play hot-cold with it, but until we get closer, that's not going to help."
He nods slightly. "The five levels of death," he murmurs, and falls silent.
I look around, take another sip of water. "Aren't there road maps around here?" I mutter, which Muraki seems to find amusing. "Walking like this is stupid. For all we know, we need to be going in the other direction."
Muraki looks at me impassively, over the rims of his glasses. "I do agree with you, you know," he says after a moment. "But I'd like to know what you think we should be doing instead."
"I don't know," I admit, kicking at a rock. It skids away, into the lava river. "But there must be something we can -- "
"Be quiet." Muraki cuts me off. Normally I'd object to this, but he's got a listening look on his face. Now that I'm not talking, I can hear a faint cry, sounding similar to an eagle or some other bird of prey. But it's too human. There's intelligence in the tone.
"What is it?" I murmur, pressing myself harder against the rock wall.
"Demons of some kind," Muraki says quietly. "I think they know we're here."
"Splendid." I take out one of Tsuzuki's protective ofuda and clutch it in one fist.
Muraki glances at it and nods approvingly. "That'll help. Let's find some cover." We both scan the horizon for an interminably long moment. "I think if we go left at this fork, we'll find a cave."
I have to squint to see the dark opening he's referring to. "Even at a flat run, that'll take at least five minutes," I say. "And we can't run on this trail. It's too narrow." Not to even mention that one side drops steeply into the lava river.
"Do we have a choice?" Muraki asks, and takes off at a brisk jog. He's too dignified to jog. It's very weird.
We've made it about halfway down the path, which is better than I would have figured, when the demons attack. They're about the size of eagles, maybe a little bigger, but their eyes are focused on us. They shriek and dive for us, but Tsuzuki's barrier repels them. For now. It won't withstand repeated abuse, not without him here to back it up.
Muraki grabs me by the wrist and tows me along efficiently, both of us stumbling along as best we can on the narrow path. The barrier shatters after three or four more dives and the largest of the birds swoops into me, knocking me off my feet.
I feel myself falling backwards and scream. If Muraki didn't have me by the wrist, I would have wound up in the lava river. As it is, I end up dangling over the side of the path and Muraki winds up on his knees, holding me with one hand and trying to protect himself with the other.
I wrap my hand around his wrist and try to get purchase on the wall with my feet, but it doesn't work. Oh well for that. Get the gun out of where it's tucked into my pants with my free hand. "Get down!"
Muraki, still holding onto me, throws himself to the ground. I take aim and fire, knocking one of the demons out of the sky. It's enough to spook the rest, and they take off. I'm left dangling over the river.
"Pull me up, damn it!"
But he's looking below me. His face is creased with the concentration of keeping me from falling, but there's something in his eyes . . .
Rule one: never look down.
But I do anyway, and see hundreds of souls of the damned looking back at me from within the river.
I can't help it. I let loose a bloodcurdling shriek and begin trying to kick my way up again. The souls surge up out of the lava and cling to my legs, trying to drag me back down, into the lava, and I'm screaming, screaming, screaming.
I manage to get enough leverage to wrap my other hand around Muraki's wrist. He's pulling as hard as he can, I can tell, but his strength is no match for the hundreds of souls on the other end. I'm panicking and I know it but oh God I don't want to die this way --
"This may hurt," Muraki says suddenly, and lightning cracklings at his fingertips. It sends an electric shock through me and my entire body jerks and spasms. The electricity travels down me and into the souls, who let go. Muraki yanks me up onto the ledge and we both gasp for breath.
"I didn't know you could do that," I finally manage.
He smiles arrogantly. "Live and learn, boy." Then he glances at the sky. "Now let's get to that cave."
I nod and make it to my feet, tottering after him. It takes about another ten minutes to reach the cave, and we both slump down inside it, not speaking. Sip the water, try to pull myself together. Right. This is impossible.
I don't even realize I said that last bit aloud until Muraki looks at me. "Good attitude you've got there," he says.
"Oh, shut up." I lean against the wall and press both my hands against my face. "It's damn well impossible and you know it. We don't know how to get between the levels, so we're never going to get anywhere. And I don't think we could just go out and ask, do you?"
"We'll figure it out," Muraki says. Calm and implacable as always. I hate him.
"This isn't happening," I say. That seems to help, seems to bring some sense of calm. "This isn't happening. It's all another nightmare. I'll wake up and I'll be with Tsuzuki again and this isn't happening, this can't be happening -- "
Muraki lets out a surprised exclamation and I take my hands away from my face. It's about then I realize that the floor has opened up beneath me and I'm falling through it. Muraki leaps forward to catch me, but we're both dragged through the opening.
As I fall, I see it close above us.
Then I black out.
~~~~
"Ugh." There it is, folks, my grand statement of the day. Ugh. Where the hell am I? For a minute, I was sure that I was dead. But apparently that isn't true. Or at least, I'm not any deader than I already was, which is a plus. There are always degrees of dead. The five levels of death. It may ring a bell to Muraki, but I'm lost.
Muraki, right. Time to sit up. I manage it with effort. My entire body aches, and I have a feeling it's because I was lying face down on a dirt road. I brush the dirt off my clothes. I have no idea how long I've been unconscious. My watch is no help. So it's three o'clock. That could be morning or afternoon, on any day.
So I look around, get a glimpse of our surroundings.
"What the hell?!" My jaw hits the floor. Well, the dirt road.
"That was my reaction," Muraki says dryly. He's sitting next to me in the dirt, smoking a cigarette.
Where we are . . . looks like . . . well, for lack of a better term, it looks like some vision of Heaven. We're sitting in a big field, with a blue, cloudless sky. There are trees on the horizon and the air smells like flowers. The road we're on isn't paved, but it's wide enough for four or five people to walk side by side, and the dirt is well-packed.
"It must be the second level," I venture. Muraki gives me a 'well duh' look, which coming from him makes me want to giggle. "You know any levels of death that have flowers?" I ask, immediately wanting to redeem myself. The look only intensifies. "Oh, shut up." I get to my feet. The aches in my body subside after I get moving a bit. "Let's go."
I half expect Muraki to ask where we're going, but I suppose at least this time we have a road, so we're doing far better than on the first level. Those narrow rocky paths aren't anything I want to repeat any time soon.
The air is pleasantly cool and there's a gentle breeze. It's perfect. All my hair is standing on end, it's so perfect. There's something inherently wrong with this entire setup. I don't know, maybe it's because we're in Hell and this just isn't the kind of thing you expect from Hell.
"How do you think we made it from the first level to the second?" I ask. I'm not bothered by empty silence, but I'd like to know, and I don't want to give Muraki any time to plot my demise.
He shakes his head. "I have no idea. Maybe it's just on a timer?"
"But then all the souls would drop through to the fifth level," I say. "And I don't think they do. We were only there a couple of hours."
We walk in silence for a little while, both of us mulling all this over. Muraki has put his coat back on so he doesn't have to carry it. God only knows how the bastard kept it with him all this time. Even if I had been carrying my jacket, I would have dropped it when I nearly fell in the lava river.
I open the bottle of water and realize that it's empty. "Wish there was a stream around here or something," I say, displaying the empty bottle. Muraki just nods agreement. I'm sure that his is empty as well.
Still more walking. I'll say one thing for this level: it sure is boring. Not that I'm complaining. I think I'd far rather have boredom than damned souls clinging to my legs. But still.
We round a bend in the road and I see a stream. Thank . . . I suppose it would be sacrilegious to thank God, given that we're in Hell. Well, thank somebody. I kneel down next to it and take out my water bottle. On second thought, I should probably test it first. It might be boiling hot or something.
I dip my fingers into it and then yank them back, too surprised to even shriek. All I manage is a pained gasp.
"What's wr -- " Muraki comes up beside me and stops dead, watching my fingers regenerate in silence.
"Acid," I say softly. It hurts like a son of a bitch, but I've hurt worse, and I'm regenerating quickly enough that the pain is fading. "It's acid."
Muraki sighs and puts his water bottle away. "So much for that."
I take a minute to offer up thanks that I reached in with my right hand, thus saving my wedding ring. I would have been pissed if it'd gotten dissolved by acid. Not to even mention that it would have been a really bad omen.
"Well, so we go thirsty," I say with a shrug. "There isn't much we can do about it."
So we . . . yes, you've got it. We continue to walk. It's so quiet that it's disturbing. I'd give a lot just to hear one bird chirp. We're following the river, but even that seems to be flowing silently. It's altogether weird and creepy and I don't like it.
"So this is Hell," Muraki says at length, looking around. "Eternal sunshine."
"I can see how it would drive you nuts after a while," I say, shivering slightly. "It's the quiet that's getting to me."
"Yes, well . . ." Muraki considers that. "After being around Tsuzuki so much, I imagine that you're not used to quiet."
I have to laugh at that. We decide to rest, sitting on the road. No one else is here anyway. I squint up at the sun. It seems blood red around the edges. "I wonder if it's raining in the Meifu," I murmur to myself.
"Hm?" Muraki looks over at me, apparently not realizing that I wasn't talking to him.
"Well . . . the Meifu is supposed to be a mirror of Chijou, only without any of the hardships that Chijou endures," I explain. I don't know why I'm bothering to explain this to him, but I suppose we have nothing better to talk about. And I'll admit that the silence is starting to get to me. "So the weather is usually . . . well, like this. And the trees are always in bloom. But sometimes it rains, or even storms. I asked Tsuzuki why once, since the trees don't need water to live. They're spiritual in nature. And he said that the rain comforts some people."
I look up at the infinitely sunny sky. "I didn't really understand why until now."
Muraki glances up at it with me. "I'm not sure eternal sunlight would bother me," he says slowly. "But we've been here at least two hours and the sun hasn't moved an inch. Eternal day time . . . that would bother me."
He's got a point. Twilight is my favorite time of the day. I'm not sure I could stand it being high noon all the time.
I sigh and haul myself to my feet. "Come on, let's go."
We walk. And walk. And walk some more. My watch tells me that we've been here for about three and a half hours. It feels much longer. Well, that's probably because of the sunlight. Damn it all. In a way, this level is even worse than the last. I'm so on edge, expecting something to happen, that the peace and quiet is killing me.
Muraki stops suddenly. "Does this look familiar to you?" he asks slowly, and I feel a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.
I take a long look around. "I can't even tell," I say flatly. "Everything looks the same. It's impossible to tell whether or not I've seen any of it before."
We keep walking, though it's seeming distinctly half-hearted this time.
As we round the bend, we see the river. I didn't really notice when we branched off from it, but this is undoubtedly the same place where we saw it the first time.
Muraki and I look at each other.
I offer up a potent curse and sit down in the dirt.
"Well," I say, lying back and staring up at the sky. "Now what? It's obvious that this path just goes in a big loop. There weren't any forks or branches. So where to from here?"
Muraki sits down next to me, though in a much more dignified manner. "We have to leave the path," he says, as if this is obvious. Which I suppose it probably was. But that's a lot easier said than done.
"Leave it and go where?" I ask wearily.
He shrugs. "We could try for the forest."
I snort. "Yeah, because I'm sure once we reach it there's a sign saying 'third level this way.'"
"You know, you don't have to be such a defeatist all the time," Muraki says dryly.
"I probably wouldn't be if I'd been allowed to reach my seventeeth birthday," I snap. "So fuck off."
He shrugs. "You could have. That curse could have lasted five years or more. You're the one who gave up."
That's it. I launch for him and try to punch him, but he grabs my arm and twists it around behind my back. That's at least the second time he's done that to me. You'd think I would learn. But hey, I got a good shot in last time. "Let me go," I say through clenched teeth, struggling to get free.
He does, but he gives me a good solid push first, so I wind up on the other side of the path. "If we're going to survive this," he says coldly, "we're going to have to put our differences aside. You must know that."
I massage my shoulder, even though it no longer hurts, and give him a dirty look. "Thank you, Einstein."
He shrugs. "I thought I might inform you, since you seemed to have forgotten."
"You were deliberately baiting me," I snap.
"Only because you brought it up." He smiles at me. "Besides, you're so cute when you're angry."
"This is ridiculous." I stand up. "Let's go to the fucking forest and see if we can find anything useful."
"Like a sign saying 'third level this way'?" he asks dryly.
I shoot him a glare and march off into the meadow. Muraki is toodling along at his own pace, pulling his coat on, glancing around. Well, screw him anyway. I've walked about a minute at a brisk pace before I step on something that makes an unpleasant squishing noise.
"Stop!" I shout back to Muraki. He was just about to step off the path and into the meadow.
"What is it?" he calls.
"I'm not sure, but -- "
The ground erupts beneath me. Dozens of little creatures, sort of like bats, sort of like rodents, swarm around me. I let out a startled screech and grab some ofuda, tossing them out to burn some of the things. Even so, three or four of them get through, clawing at my arms and face.
All I can do is run, bolting back for the relative safety of the path. The grass clings to my shoes, trying to slow me down. As soon as I reach it, they fall back. Settle back into the grass, waiting.
Muraki catches me as I collapse into a heap. "I would have tried to help, but they were too close to you," he explains. "Are you all right?"
The cuts are healing quickly, but my body is shaking from reaction, and from something else. "Poison," I manage. I can barely breathe. Good thing I don't really need air.
"Can you heal it?" he asks.
I nod. It'll take me a minute, but I can do it. So Muraki stands over me protectively, which is rather amusing somehow, while my body deals with what was done to it. After a few minutes, the shaking eases and the pain stops.
I sit up, wobbling dizzily. I really wish I had some water right about now. Shinigami can't die from hunger or thirst, but that doesn't mean we don't get hungry or thirsty. "So we can't walk anywhere but on the path."
"Seems that way," Muraki observes. "But remember, when we came from the first level to the second, destination didn't seem to have anything to do with it. Maybe we don't need to leave the path."
"Still . . ." I look around. "We've walked around the entire path. You'd think if there was something here that would transport us, we would have tripped it already."
"Maybe it only transports you once you've gone around it ten or twelve times," he says dryly.
"Oh, shut up." Pause to consider. "And . . . I can't believe I'm saying this. Put your arms around my waist and hold tight. I'm going to fly and you should probably come."
He smirks.
"If you make one single comment, I'll . . ." Look around for a suitable threat. Yeah, right. "I'll drop you into the meadow."
"Duly noted." Muraki wraps his arms around my waist. I try my best to ignore him. I'm not the best at flying, since I don't do it very often, and it's going to be tricky to navigate while carrying Muraki.
I tell him as much. "So if you distract me in the slightest -- "
"Hisoka," Muraki says, "Shut up."
It's the first time he's ever called me by name. I'm not quite sure what to think of that, so I just take off into the air. His arms tighten around me as we lift higher. As far as the eye can see is mostly meadow. The edges of the forest are barely distinguishable, so I can't see what lies beyond them.
"Should I fly for the forest?" I ask.
"Unless you've got some other brilliant idea," Muraki replies.
I would shoot him a dirty look, but I can't really. Mostly because I'm struggling with a sudden wind. "Hold on," I say, trying to regain my balance. Then, very suddenly, the wind grabs me and hurls me sideways. We go flying head over heels and I try desperately to right myself, but the wind doesn't let up.
Now we're falling, and I reach upwards desperately, finally managing to swoop up about one foot away from the meadow. The grass was reaching for us.
The path is about fifty feet away, and I dive for it. The wind catches me again and yanks me upwards just as I reach it. Muraki, damn him, has the good sense to let go, and I see him land on the path with a thud. But I'm hurtling upwards at an astonishing speed, getting warmer and warmer as I get closer to the sun.
Far down below, looking about the size of a coin, I see a purple pentagram spring into life around Muraki. Then I freeze in midair. I glance around me to see a copy of the pentagram. He's drawing me back to him. Never thought I'd be glad to be drawn to Muraki . . .
I touch down gently and my knees go weak, spilling me to the ground. Gasp for breath. "Thanks," I say weakly.
He accepts that with a nod. "I think it's safe to say that we can't leave the path."
I'd like, a lot, to be able to make a sarcastic retort to that, but I just don't have it in me. I just nod in return.
"Now what?" he asks.
I don't know, and I wish I did. God, I would give anything to know how this works, to know what the levels were and how to get there. Anything for it to all make sense, so I could be with Tsuzuki again. If I get out of this, I swear I'll do whatever it takes to keep him with me, forever . . .
I glance up to see Muraki looking at me intently. Then I look down to see the path opening underneath me. Wordlessly, I let it swallow me up, only awake of Muraki diving in before it can close.
~~~~
