They made a brief stop to their room, tracing their way back along the path Satori had led them. It only took a few seconds for Cicero to ensure that he'd left nothing behind, but he waited a few minutes as Youmu searched through the wardrobe next to the bed. The air felt colder since she first entered, and asked Cicero to wait as she raided the closets for something warmer to put on. Had she known she was coming to some place that was snowing, she would have dressed herself more than with just her typical blouse and skirt. That implied she had any time to prepare at all before leaving. It wasn't like she had a flashy military suit to help her stave off the cold.
She rummaged through each individual piece in the wardrobe before slipping them on and taking another look in the mirror. Cicero stood near the table, the candle having been lit and put back into its proper place. She only needed something to wear over herself, so the majority of her selection consisted of large coats and jackets. It saved her the trouble of having to shoo out Cicero for decency's sake as well. Still, it couldn't have taken any longer to find a coat she liked. She wasn't that picky about the style, and though she'd like something to match with the rest of her outfit, it was a more a matter of functionality. If she had to use her sword, she didn't want her movement restricted too much.
Cicero seemed to have his attention divided between her and the clock on the other side of the bed, which read 6:14. It was hard to tell whether that indicated morning or evening, but it felt like it had been a while since she came here—it appeared she slept longer than expected. There were only five more coats for her to choose from now, and the first had already failed her inspection.
"I don't understand your 'magic,'" Cicero uttered eventually as she moved to the second of the five.
"What do you mean?" Youmu asked, her attention still emphasizing the outfit. She grimaced at a gaudy jacket lined with several rows of fluff along the outside. She wouldn't be caught dead in this thing, both for looks and its painfully small size.
"Well, to get the complicated shit out of the way first, I don't believe in the idea," Cicero said dryly.
"You don't believe in magic?" Youmu asked, slipping the jacket off and tossing it on the bed. He looked pensive, leaning against the wall with his sight still fixed on the clock.
"It's always such a loose thing whenever I hear about it," he continued, resting a hand on the table, "There are no rules to it most of the time. You just cast a spell and boom, problem solved. Feh…" he scoffed.
"What are you talking about?" Youmu responded, looking over at him as she reached for the next coat. He must be talking about the magic in literature. "Youkai could easily dispense magical energy at a given time. Maybe you couldn't work it so well, but even then you could still learn it. Eeeeeh…" Her attention was still more towards the jacket. It was far too puffy for her to move around comfortably in.
Cicero pursed his lips. "That's not what I mean. Even if you could bring it out with ease, it's such a pain if the effort takes so much energy from you."
That didn't sound right to her. "I don't follow," she replied with another coat toss.
Cicero paused and looked back out the window. More frost had settled onto the frame, to neither of their surprise. "Did you know that the mistress Satori had a sister?" he asked.
"Of course not. I've never been here before," she retorted as she held up the fourth piece. It was so hard to see most of the details of each coat, with such dim lighting that it was beginning to irritate her. Briefly, she set the coat back down and made her way to the table next to Cicero to find tinder for the candles on the wall.
"Satori coaxed her into fighting me when I came…" he said as she approached him, "She started throwing all these… giant glowing balls at me from out of nowhere." He moved slightly out of her way as she began to search through the drawers.
"You survived a danmaku battle?" Youmu raised an eyebrow. Though he was odd, Cicero looked nothing more than human. Lasting even a few moments in one with his mobility would have been unusual.
"Dan-what?" Cicero raised an eyebrow.
And if he was this clueless, it would have been more incredible, she thought, sighing loudly. She turned her attention back to the drawers as she began to talk. "Danmaku. It's a common form of magical weaponry we use on Gensokyo. It's useful for settling all kinds of disputes. Its main focus is on visual disorientation rather than strength. If you can either confuse or dazzle your enemy, they will become more likely to be struck by your barrage. Understand?" In her explanation, she still hadn't found any matches in three of the drawers.
"Sure, sure," Cicero waved passively, "but that's not my point. Why does magic in general seem so draining?"
"It isn't. Where did you get that idea?" she switched over to the other column of drawers. Come to think of it, however, the palace mistress' exhaustion seemed out of place. Perhaps it was the result from too much work.
"When I was having a 'dan-mocks-you' fight with Satori's sister Koishi. The girl nearly blew me to pieces if she hadn't passed out so quickly," he explained, "And she seemed so nice too."
"Of course it had to be in the last one…" Youmu sighed as she found a trio of matches in the bottom of the drawer, "How long did you two fight?"
"I don't know, like, a minute?" he shrugged.
"What? That's it?" Youmu looked back up at him, gripping the matches in her hand. As unlikely it would be for him to survive even that long, it still seemed incredibly short.
"I told you, she passed out," he shrugged again, tapping his finger on the mahogany surface, "Is that supposed to happen?"
"No. Not at all," Youmu said with greater intrigue. She moved back to the other side of the room, lighting a match and holding it near the candles closest to her. "I'm still surprised you came out unscathed with just that."
"Ehhhh, more or less…" he muttered, "But now that you've said that, I'm interested. Why did she pass out?" The room had gotten slightly brighter now, Youmu having lit her half of candles. She blew out the last match and returned to the fourth coat. "It's been eight hours. She must have been pushing it if she's still asleep."
"Oh, that's who you were asking about earlier," she recalled his last question to Satori before they left, "The mistress was fairly hasty answering you. Do you think she's hiding something?" her attention was fixed back on the coat again. It seemed a bit nicer than the rest thus far.
"I dunno," he commented, "But Koishi is going to wake up eventually. And Satori will take her place as well…" his expression darkened for a moment before switching to one of interest. "Which reminds me, I need to check on something. We've got the time for it." He looked up at the ceiling, his expression switching again to a grimace. "But first, we need to eat. Are you done yet?"
"Calm down. I think I like this one," Youmu said, the slightest hint of a smile forming at the corners of her mouth as she looked into the mirror. It was a simple dark green cloak extending down to her knees. The shoulders were caped, interestingly. The fabric felt light, but it was warm enough for her to tolerate the cold a little more. The rims of the cloak were lined with a small complement of fur, running from the hood to the bottom; the cape also had its own lining. Overall, it seemed to match her general appearance. After a few seconds, she turned to him, twisting herself around to give him a thorough view. "Is this okay?"
"You're implying I ever cared about fashion," Cicero said flatly, to which she frowned. It was disappointing that he couldn't at least humor her. A second later, he rolled his eyes. "But it looks fine. Can we go now?" he motioned to the door. Youmu's mouth curved to a smile as she began to walk past him. For a moment, a faint glint seemed to shine in the blue of her eyes.
She was leading down the corridor this time, striding ahead as he closed the door behind him. She had a feeling that if Cicero were to lead, he'd take them on an endless run through a maze if he didn't ask for directions. She stopped a young maid, quickly touching her shoulder from behind to get her attention. Cicero watched on as he made his way towards them, watching Youmu give a slight bow to the girl holding a stack of towels.
"Pardon me, I'd like to know the way to the dining room, if you could tell me," Youmu stated cordially.
"Oh, of course. You're the mistress' guests," she smiled, turning in the direction of the corridor opposite to them, "There is a dining room down on the first floor. Simply turn right at the crossing there, then take the staircase on the left. Afterwards, turn right at the farthest corner and walk to the end of the hall. The dining room will be just ahead."
"Thank you," Youmu responded, bowing again before walking back to Cicero. "This way."
They took the way they were told, Cicero beginning a series of awkward stares behind Youmu as she walked. Every now and then, she'd turn around and look at him. Each time, his eyes would shy away from her. She looked back once after the turn of a corner, then again a few feet later, and the reactions were still the same. It felt like he was examining her in some form, and it was unclear whether she was supposed to take it as a complement or a bout of suspicion. He wasn't subtle about it either, always turning his head aggressively away whenever she checked on him. They took the flight of stairs down to the first floor, then continued down the last series of hallways. She could feel his gaze down the back of her neck, and frankly it was getting annoying. As they turned the corner, the door to the dining room stood open, but before they went any further, Youmu stopped in her tracks. Cicero paused behind her, not saying a word. Quickly, she turned on her heel and looked straight at him. This time, he didn't turn away, and his face bore slight confusion, though she could still see the curiosity in his eyes.
"What?" Cicero asked, hands in his coat pockets.
"What are you looking at me for?" she asked straightforwardly.
"Well I can't follow you if I don't know where you are," he responded with the faintest air of sass.
"But what are you always looking away for?" her face hardened.
His expression responded in the same manner. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly.
She crossed her arms. "Every time I look back at you, you turn your head and look away like a shy puppy. Is there something wrong with me?"
"Oh, that? Well it's… It's nothing important…" he muttered, scratching the back of his head.
"Clearly, it is, if you're going to act like this," she asserted, taking a step towards him. "Now tell me what you're looking at."
"Kiddo, it's seriously nothing," he waved passively.
"Then you wouldn't mind telling me if that is the case," she said with a more authoritative tone.
"Gaaaah…" he groaned deeply, running his hand down his slack-jawed face. "Can't we just let it go and move on?"
"No."
He sighed loudly, turning around and waving his arms on his side before turning back to her. Slowly, he lifted up his hand, pointing off near her shoulder. "What the hell is that?"
She looked up to where he was pointing, spotting the hazy translucent bulb of supernatural energy floating above her. She wasn't sure what to be surprised at, that she didn't tell him what it was, or that he waited this long to reluctantly ask like some shy kid. "My phantom half? That's it?" she looked back at him with a perplexed expression.
"Phantom half?" Cicero repeated, a look of suspicion on his face. Before she had time to blink, he brought up his fist and knuckled her in the forehead.
"Ow!" Youmu reeled back, "What was that for?!"
"You don't feel like a damn ghost!" he shouted.
She stepped back towards him as she rubbed her forehead. "It's my phantom half! It's just another part of me! What was so hard about asking?!"
"Well, I'm sorry if I want to be polite every now and then!" he put his hands on his hips, "It would have been rude if I was asking you if it was like your dead sister or something!"
For a short instant, she denied the possibility of him being the guy she was supposed to follow. He was supposed to be Yukari's person of interest? Hell no, it would have been easier to follow around a drunkard in this city than this uncanny black man. "Why do you act like such a child?"! she shouted back at him.
"Because I'm a god!" he hollered at the top of his lungs.
She opened her mouth, but hesitated after fathoming what he said. "…Excuse me?!" she looked on with unparalleled confusion.
Soon Cicero went silent, his face growing solemn under the shadow of his cap. He straightened his back, turning away from her with hands folded, and looked up at the ceiling. He stood there for a few seconds, the silence growing between them like before. "You see, Youmu… I'm a god… A god that has brought mortals to their knees with my power… I am…" He turned back around, face ablaze with burning passion; he slammed his knee to the floor and raised his fist high into the air. "The God of Unbearable Hunger!" his voice rang throughout the corridors, reverbing off the walls before leaving behind another air of silence.
Youmu looked back at him sardonically, her lips slightly parted. "…What?"
"And the oooonly waaaaay to saaaate myy wrath…!" he continued in a choir-like bravado as he gesticulated furiously with his arms and legs, "is to feeeed me….. until me belly is fuuuuull!" He paused again, striking an uncomfortably stupid pose before straightening up and walking towards the dining room. "So come on, I'm way too fucking hungry," he added in a normal voice, grabbing Youmu by the wrist and dragging her with him.
"Ah, hey! Let me go!" she said, stumbling forward.
The dining room was modest in size, accommodating fourteen seats on each side of its lavish cloth-covered table, the surface of which was populated by several decorative plants flaunting white and dark blue colors. Cicero looked underneath, tapping on the mahogany wood with delight. A row of tall windows lined the wall to the left of them, looking into the courtyard once more. Large dunes of snow had settled on the lowest parts of the panes. Portraits hung as high as the brazen chandeliers, depicting men and women with varying shades of pink hair. In the corners were also busts of similar individuals. One could imagine they were the mistress's predecessors.
They sat next to each other at the table, waiting for only a minute before a series of maids walked in, one asking what they would like. Youmu went first, requesting a series of various pastas and light foods before ending with a bowl of dumplings. She wanted to see how their dumplings compared to hers. Cicero requested a vast array of meat-based dishes, which they had to mostly deny, to his chagrin. They quickly explained that they had meat from their own livestock, but most of it was saved for sales to vendors. Additionally, Satori was evidently against having her personal residents eating meat. He complained thoroughly about the absurdity of her logic before replicating Youmu's requests.
It wasn't long before one maid came in with a small platter of hot bread rolls and butter, to which Cicero quickly served himself, nearly burning his mouth before comprehending just how hot they were. Youmu took one as well, kindly thanking the maid before she left. She turned her attention back to Cicero for a moment as he bit off a piece of the roll. He was quiet again, looking straight out the window ahead of him as he chewed. It almost seemed like he'd returned to a state of regality—the kind of way he looked for only a few seconds at her whenever he spoke with an almost unnervingly formal tone—and in all honesty, the inconsistency was infuriating. She thought back to their dialogue with Satori, how he sounded like he actually had priorities and didn't mentally wander just to confuse her. Maybe he always did, and she just needed to learn to read him. Eventually, the entrees rolled in on a small convoy of maids and tables as they set the platters around their guests.
"Thank you for the food," Youmu clasped her hands together at the maids before flashing a scowl at Cicero, who'd already piled a serving of nearly every dish onto his plate. He gave a thumbs-up to the maids as his mouth was already full. Focused or not, he had no manners. She sighed and followed suit with the food as the maids left.
The next small span of time had returned to a similar bout of silence, one glancing at the other at scattered intervals during their meal. Cicero wolfed down his contents fairly quickly, doing away with most of the only roast chicken to be provided in the selection. He'd left a drumstick and a bit extra for Youmu, who was quietly fiddling away at the food with her silverware. It would have been ideal to her to use chopsticks, but she felt she had little choice but to conform as a guest. His eyes followed the phantom half that floated higher over her head as she ate, sometimes hovering closer to various dishes at certain times. Sometimes it read off her thoughts, reacting to her desires at random intervals. It did this to her food often, always stopping at what she considered getting. At other times it would react according to her emotions.
There were two ways to tell. Movement determined the nature of her thoughts, while the length of its "tail" portrayed her emotional state. In calmer states, it moved slowly, leaving behind only a small trail behind it. Whenever she was angry, or in a panic, it would fly more sporadically, the tail extending up to several feet longer. Right now, it was slow, though the tail was a medium length—no shorter than four feet. As the piles of delicacies shrank, she turned her eyes to the windows in front of them. She could see the faint emanations of purple light reflecting off the flakes that fell over the center of the courtyard. Cicero twirled his spoon in his hand, looking in the same direction.
"What do you think she's hiding?" Youmu asked, working the last piece of chicken she was willing to put up with.
"Whatever's worth hiding, I'm guessing," he responded casually, sitting back in his chair, "I'm still thinking about that sister."
"Do you have some sort of connection with her?" she asked quickly.
"No, no. I still want to know just what made her pass out. If it's really that Duck-moth-stew—"
"Danmaku…" she corrected cynically.
"…That, then there ought to be a cause for that problem." He put his hand on his chin for a moment. "And then there's the pet."
"Do you think that's the cause?" Youmu asked, wiping her mouth after her final bite.
Cicero shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. If that thing is supposed to be heating the star in that place, it would likely be overpowered as hell. But as far as the magic thing goes… I have no clue. But the biggest thing—" In the midst of his talk, the room jolted with intense force, accompanied by a deafening crashing noise from outside. The force knocked Cicero to the floor while Youmu clung to the table in her seat. The chandeliers above swiveled violently, dropping waves of snuffed out candles from their racks. The sound of shattering glass erupted near them before they spotted dozens of tiny shards fly over them.
They kept their heads down until the last quake faded off, waiting a little longer as a portrait finally gave up and fell off the wall and fell with a crash. The screaming wind outside had invaded the room, blowing large wet flakes inside. Youmu was the first to stand back up, clenching her coat at the collar. Surprisingly, it was more effective at staving off the cold air than she expected. Cicero followed shortly after, straightening his hat and tie as he stood up. He looked down in disappointment as he spotted most of the food scattered across the ground, before looking in disgust at the chicken broth that stained his pant leg.
"That's just fucking great…" he muttered to himself before looking at the damage. It was nearly pitch-dark now, the remaining candles being blown out by the wind. The dunes of snow had made their way in through the former positions of the windows. Cicero and Youmu walked out to the frames, looking into the courtyard. Most of the torches lighting the outside had blown out while the other windows also appeared to have been destroyed by the shock. A few lights emanated from where some remained intact enough to keep the candles alive. Now the most prominent luminescence came from the center in bright purple. "You know, I was planning to have dessert before all hell broke loose," he commented loudly.
"The barrier's still up. We need to see what's happening to it, Cicero." Youmu said over the holler of the wind. She could see his silhouette turn to her briefly before moving up the snow. The outline of his hat moved side to side before stopping again.
"We had a deal, remember?" she heard him say, "But I still have errands to run."
She followed after him, stepping up the hill of snow and passing through the opening into the courtyard. It was difficult to see where to step, though the light of the barrier reflected dimly off the surface. The air was much colder outside, and though her cloak still managed to break the wind, the snow went up to her shins. The lower layers were dry and powdery, saving her socks from soaking immediately, but the fresher portions were comprised of these new wetter pieces. The chill quickly began to sting her legs—maybe she should have taken better consideration of the cold. She continued to follow Cicero through the dark, tracing his footsteps as best as she could to avoid dragging her feet entirely. He was farther ahead now, trudging through without so much as looking back.
"You almost sound uninterested in going down there!" she hollered, trying to keep her focus on him rather than the cold.
"Of course I want to go!" he hollered back, continuing onward, "However I don't feel like rushing!" He stumbled briefly as he reached the edge of one of the frozen pools. Youmu followed him as he went around, giving her some time to close the distance. "I mean, think about it! If I'm having this much 'fun' staying alive up here, I wouldn't feel too enthused about jumping into uncertain death!"
"I see…" she responded. It was obvious she still had severe doubts about how he was supposed to survive anything Gensokyo threw at him. Under that fancy military coat and nonchalant behavior, she still saw a normal human. She kept looking at him, and the more she thought about it, she wondered why the cold was bothering her so much. It still would have been annoying to stay in the cold so poorly dressed, but to feel almost numb already was more than anomalous for a youkai.
It was just bright enough to see the other structures in the distance. The palace felt more like a town within a town when viewed from the outside. The main building was spectacularly large, with the others not far behind in their scale. The closest to them was still a fair distance away, resting on the latter half of the courtyard. Its design was similar to the first, bearing an architectural design that was somewhat alien to the rest of Gensokyo's Japanese origins. There was a faint resemblance between this and the mansion she'd once visited on the surface, though the palace was the victor in general elegance. A stained glass window of a three-footed raven could be seen, as comparable again to the first, but the others on the exterior were either cracked or shattered entirely.
The farthermost structure at the end of the property was too dark to see entirely, but Youmu could see a dome-like shape on the center of its roof. The design was sleeker than the others, and there were still a few faint sources of light emanating from the middle. Faint colors of light and dark green stood inside, thick near the bottom and streaking off like gradually thinning lines near the top. It must have been some form of greenhouse. They were halfway across the courtyard now, the entrance to Blazing Hell visible from where they were walking. Cicero had taken a path hugging the right side, giving them a fair distance from the center. It was surrounded by a small system of hedges, the main walkways expanding several hundred meters across. Perched along the edges were countless wooden setups of cranes, ropes and pulleys over the hole itself, with several empty wagons and barrels surrounding it.
Across from them stood the third structure, also extremely distant from them. It was nearly impossible to tell what it was, now that the glow of the barrier was getting in her way. Given how tall and wide it was, however, it was fair to guess it was some form of storehouse. It was practically larger than the main building, which would have made sense, if there really was farmland large enough to sustain the entire city from down there. Something sat a little off with her, knowing that a girl like Satori would have such control over a whole city. It wasn't about the ethics—there have been plenty of questionable things Yuyuko and Yukari have done other than monopolization, but it seemed almost out of place. Satori didn't seem like a person to manage business so heavily, though looks could have been deceiving. Still, it bugged her for little valid reason.
They neared the building closest to them, Cicero slowly stepping up to the double doors and pushing them open. He peeked inside for a moment before walking in, making his way down a short corridor. Youmu was shivering at this point, her socks soaked to the skin. She clutched her cloak as she followed Cicero, the cold tapering off inside the building, though it was still prominent. It was slightly dark as well, only a small handful of candles having been lit. Youmu wasn't sure whether these candles held an enchanted wax or not, but it was odd seeing that some were lit and some were not. Cicero opened the door at the end of the hall, peeking in again before pushing the doors open and walking into a large empty ballroom with marble flooring. It was dark in here as well, though only because the only candles that weren't lit were the ones from a fallen chandelier on the other side of the room. The others gave a dim ambience. This room was devoid of windows, allowing a little bit of heat to be retained. Regardless, her feet continued to sting; all Youmu wanted to do at the moment was take her shoes off. Cicero's pants were also soaked, but it appeared his boots extended high enough not to get on his legs.
"Right, this looks like a good open place," he said, walking farther off. The soles of his boots echoed across the empty chamber.
"So, will you tell me why I had to drag my legs through three feet of snow?" Youmu asked, quickly slipping off her socks and rubbing her shins. Cicero continued to walk until he was a few dozen feet away.
"I figured it would be a good way to show you how impractical it would be to just have that cloak," he grinned, turning around to face her. "But that's just a bonus." He gave a stretch of his arms and legs, followed by a quick cracking of his neck. Briefly, his eyes shut, and he took a deep breath before straightening his back into a steadfast position. "So, shoot me," he said dryly.
"Shoot you?" Youmu echoed. She was waiting for him to give some punchline, but his expression appeared a lack of enthusiasm to deliver this time.
"Shoot me," he echoed back. His eyes were focused, poised in a similar fashion to the way he looked at her the first time they met. "With your… 'danmaku,' as you call it. A low-yield variant, if you could please, I'd like to keep my limbs if something happens," he added. "You… you can make it explode less, right?"
"Well, yeah. But why do you want me to shoot you?" Youmu raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, so," his attitude began to loosen up. "Remember when I said I was a god earlier?"
"…Yeah?" she responded slowly.
"Well, that's still a bullshit lie," he shrugged. She grimaced at him before he could continue. "But, I do have some special… uh, things, that I can do."
"Like…?" she crossed her arms.
"Special things," he said flatly. Youmu stood still, waiting to see if he would add anything else. "But I need to know if they work… Okay?"
"But what are these 'special things?'" she added in quotations with her fingers.
Cicero rolled his eyes. She was a stubborn thing at times. 'Things that don't normally abide by the laws of physics, okay? Look, if they even still work, you'll figure out what I do. And if not, then it doesn't fucking matter, right? Right. So, shoot me." His eyes returned to focus, and he stood straight up again.
Youmu made a long sigh before taking a half-readied position. She extended an arm towards him, a small cascade of bullets spawning from around her. There were only a few dozen, varying between colors of light blue and yellow. As they left her range, she noticed an immediate oddity about it. She almost felt, to a certain degree, tired.
Cicero's eyes widened, and he quickly hopped out of the way, the bullets careening into the wall in the distance. They flashed brightly as they hit, dispensing loud pops upon impact. There was only a small cloud of dust, much smaller than those created by Koishi. "Allow me to clarify," he stated, "Just one, please."
She nodded, and extended her arm again, a single yellow bullet appearing in front of her hand. This one flew at the same speed, Cicero maintaining his stance. His eyes were fixed on the bullet as it sailed towards him. He looked like he was just trying to stare it down, or rather, examine it as it came closer. At the last moment, he shut his eyes, the bullet slamming square in his chest. He made a loud shout as the force of the impact threw him back a couple feet from where he stood.
"Cicero, are you alright?" Youmu called over to him. She'd made them as weak as she could without losing their typical speed. It could have only hurt him if he had the frailty of someone old.
"Gaaaaah…" she heard him groan on the floor.
"Are you hurt?" she asked.
"No, that's not my problem," he said roughly, picking himself off the floor, "That's just a very bad sign."
"A sign of what?" she asked. Her eyes had grown slightly heavy from the last volley. It was like she'd been drained of energy. She didn't feel tired enough to be impaired, but to feel like this, she would have had to have been unleashing true curtains of unhindered danmaku for some time to reach this state.
"A sign that this is going to take a little longer than we both hoped for…" he muttered.
"So, this power of yours is gone, then," she tried to clarify.
He shook his head. "Not gone, but definitely not 'here' either. The influence was there, I could tell, but the change was small. Like, really damn small. I'm out of tune with it—a whole lot more than I was when I started using it before."
"Well, how do you get it back?" she asked, walking over to him.
"I uh, kind of don't…" he answered. Youmu was about to open her mouth, but he explained before she could ask. "It has to come to me. That was how it worked before."
"How is that supposed to work?" she tilted her head. His only response was a head shake. "Then, how long is it going to take? The sooner you can do… whatever you do, the better, I hope."
"Well…" Cicero put a finger on his chin, pacing around her. "The first time I had to gather all this crap it took about… um… Gosh it's been so long." He scratched his head and looked blankly at the ground. His eyes wandered for a moment before he looked back towards her and snapped his fingers. "Almost two-hundred and fifty years!"
"What? Are you kidding me?" she opened her arms out, "That's over four times older than I am!"
"You're sixty?" Cicero narrowed his eyes. He paused and stared at her for a moment until he pieced together his own conclusion. "Oh, oh right. You're one of those things Border Woman calls a youkai. I guess that makes you live a bit longer or something. Or at least look younger, I guess."
"Regardless…" Youmu interrupted, "We can't rely on that trait of yours if it's going to take that long…"
"Aaaah…" Cicero waggled his finger with a smile. He reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out Hakurouken in its sheath. "That's why I asked for this." He freed the blade from its sheath, examining the reflectively clean surface in the dim light. He appreciated its simplicity; having something too fancy or cumbersome would have bothered him. The wakizashi was light, and small enough to conceal in his coat from top to bottom. He compared it to Roukanken, sheathed and held on Youmu's back. It was twice the length of his, the bottom of the hilt complemented by a strange white flowering design. After examining it briefly, he began to swing it around in the air, moving away from Youmu. He was entirely nonchalant about it, like a child playing with a toy; one hand was in his pocket. "Well, we can't do much about it now. So, I can just familiarize myself with some self-defense until the wait is over." he said casually. Eventually, he turned around, gripping the wakizashi with one hand and facing Youmu. "Would you care to help me?"
"It's your most viable option, I suppose…" she muttered, reaching for her Roukanken, "But please be careful. That blade isn't for show."
"I wouldn't have asked for it if I thought it was…" he retorted dryly. He put up his arms, blade in hand. Youmu held hers in front of her, the two circling each other momentarily on the ballroom; only the echoing of Cicero's boots could be heard. He was the first to move, making a quick swing towards her. Youmu's arms smoothly shifted in its direction, almost effortlessly knocking the hit away as the sound of colliding metal rang from between them. With her blade past his, she made a short thrust towards him; it would have been too short to make contact—she only wanted to see how he would react to it. To her surprise, he reeled back as quickly as she deflected, moving off-center from her attack. As quickly as that, he pushed in again, lightly bashing her wrist with the hilt of Hakurouken.
Youmu winced briefly at the sting before jumping back. "I didn't expect you to land a hit. It appears you've had at least a bit of practice," she commented. There was really no form to him. His movements were sloppy, as was his posture. The way he handled the wakizashi was loose, and his eyes seemed to lock too hard into one place. Despite this, he seemed to be able to hold his own against someone who was barely going at him. He didn't reply to her comment, and simply kept his sight on her, twirling the blade slowly on his hand.
She returned to her original stance, watching him closely. The blade was harder to see as he moved it around; her attention stayed primarily on him, and where his eyes moved. They were locked on her as well, now scanning her movements as closely as she was to him. This time, she took the initiative, taking high swings at him in succession. There was little delay in his reactions, parrying each hit as they came, though backing up slightly with each strike. He seemed to stumble every now and then, either barely losing his footing or miscalculating a hit. If a parry missed, he would still manage to move away from her swing, though often with only centimeters of clearance. It was a dangerous means of practice, and she trusted he was already aware of that—if he wanted to familiarize himself with her wakizashi, this was effectively one of the best ways to do so. She did still hold back, however. There were enough openings for her to flail him nearly a dozen times already. It was unlikely he'd have to face someone like her in full-blown combat, though. At this point, he would be able to defend himself against at least a belligerent human. That still didn't give her much hope for his survival, however.
Finally, one parry had hit hard enough to stagger him altogether, and Youmu responded with a heavy kick on his ribs, forcing him to let go of Hakurouken. He fell on his back with a grunt, the tip of Roukanken lightly pressing against his neck before he could even settle from the landing. Cicero looked up at her as he felt the edge, then openly raised up his hands to signal a yield. With a nod, she lifted her sword from him and offered her hand.
"That wasn't too bad, I'd say," he commented as he grabbed hold. She hoisted him up onto his feet, allowing him to straighten his coat and tie.
"You'll manage," she answered. "You still won't be up for a fight against a youkai, though. I'll have to compensate for that issue."
"I was talking about you," he retorted in a wry tone, making one more adjustment to ensure the knot was still in proper form. "It shouldn't be too hard to not die if you stay like that. Hopefully."
"Is there something you're trying to imply?" she sheathed back Roukanken.
"Of course! That you're good but not the best," he answered frankly.
"Candid…" she muttered. "Are you saying that you're still better?"
"Ach! No!" he vocally wretched, "I'm like a drunkard with a bread knife. Cutting and stabbing things was never my… well, thing. I prefer… direct approaches."
"Like…?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Pffft, let me show you," he said, picking up Hakurouken off the ground. They quickly returned to their stances as Youmu pulled out her katana once more. He acted differently this time, hopping around subtly in place, holding Hakurouken forward like he was loosely fencing. She waited for him to move this time, just to see what he meant.
Out of nowhere, he reeled back and flung the wakizashi at her, the angle so off it was practically flying sideways. The awkward approach made her react primarily to the throw, deflecting the hit and causing Hakurouken to fall to the ground. By the time she turned her attention back to Cicero, he'd already made a dead sprint towards her, moving past the edge of her blade and bringing a fist quickly to her forehead. He hit with enough force to send her sprawling to the ground, almost dizzy from the impact. As she regained her composure, she felt a sharpness on the back of her neck. She could still see the wakizashi where it had landed in her peripheral vision—he'd picked up Roukanken as it flew out of her hand.
"Something a bit like that," he said, moving the blade away. "Now, there's still a couple problems to this method," he explained, lifting her up as she did earlier to him, "This only works on the oblivious. If I did it to some fucker who was really, really focused, I'd probably be diced and canned already." He handed the katana back to her. "And plus, if I do pull it off, it usually just works once. Because, you know. They'll see it coming if they're still alive. But the good news is…" he shrugged, "They usually aren't."
"I'll keep that in mind," she murmured, straightening the black bow in her hair. "But what was it you were saying about who the best was, if it wasn't you?" Her curiosity was getting to her again. At most, it was affirmation of her ego.
"Just some royal blood I knew before I died," he answered softly. His eyes weren't set on her when he said it—they were off to the side, staring almost woefully in no particular direction. Quickly, he looked back at her with his normal nonchalant expression. "But they sorta don't count when they're in the past life."
"What was your past life like?" she asked, sheathing Roukanken once more.
"Now that's really irrelevant!" he pointed at her. A second later, their ears were met with a familiar crashing noise, and were knocked off their feet as the ground shook violently. The initial impact was much harder this time, and the tremors themselves lasted much longer. The remaining chandeliers swung about again, another falling from the ceiling and crashing behind them. The room darkened as more and more candles began to fall and blow out. They covered their heads, trying to keep some balance and watch out for whatever might fall on them. This one was lasting much longer than the last, going on for nearly a minute before it even began to die down. In the last few seconds, a small portion of the wall broke apart near the ceiling, falling and breaking the checkered flooring as it crashed. Eventually, the quakes stopped, and the ballroom became quiet.
"Cicero… do you feel that?" Youmu said lowly, getting back up.
"Other than the quake? No, what?" he asked. He was wearing his boots, while Youmu was still barefoot from earlier. There was a subtle, soothing feeling beneath her feet. The floor was warm. They made their way towards the exit, Youmu only bothering to put her shoes back on—her socks were still soaking wet.
As they walked out the building, they paused and looked out in front of them, both slack-jawed at the sight. The cobblestone of the courtyard was revealed widely in front of them, accompanied by a steamy fog that enveloped the area. The snow on the ground had disappeared almost entirely, only the falling flakes left to be seen. They both felt the distinct heat on the ground now. It was much hotter directly on the cobblestone, and the air itself was also warm. The wind had died down as well, providing an eerie silence in the haze.
The purple glow was still visible, however; it was the only viable source of light now. "We can't just leave that thing unattended…" Youmu muttered, turning to Cicero, "We have to see what's happening to it."
"The circumstances seem reasonable enough…" Cicero nodded, "Fine, let's go break our promise." They treaded towards the center, watching their steps as they moved. It was extremely dark now, and the sound of crashing rock could be heard close to them. In the midst of their walk, they ran into a large boulder surrounded by rubble. More stalactites were falling. As they got closer, the ground grew hotter. Youmu groaned slightly at the built up heat that was passing through the soles of her shoes. She wasn't sure which she preferred to put up with, between the burn of steam or the burn of snow.
The glow was shining brightly through the fog now, the source barely visible in the distance. As they got closer, they passed by the hedges near them, stopping before they moved further. "Well, that's quite an impact…" Cicero said dryly. The ground in front of them had lifted up by a foot, the cobblestone broken off and the angle sloped. Without any further hesitation, they stepped up, moving closer until they reached the series of knocked over wagons and a couple of fallen cranes. Both grimaced as they finally came into view of the barrier.
It was a bright, glass-like material placed inside a large, carved out hole. It fit snuggly inside, a display of patterns and illegible words etched into the surface. It would have been a beautiful sight, had it not been for the state it was in. The entire thing was cracked—practically shattered had not all the pieces stayed in their general places. Large segments laid fractured from each other, the cracks travelling down several feet to the bottom of the opening. Occasionally, the entire barrier would flicker, fading slightly before maintaining its composition. It travelled through the ground, covering more open spots where the ground had cracked and almost split open at the rim of the hole.
"This is unbelievable…" Youmu marveled, "Not just that Satori could maintain this thing, but keep it active after all this. Has she really been holding this for several days?"
"A strong willed soul, I guess… Oh joy, now what?" The air began to shift around them, moving subtly towards the center of the barrier before, quickly bursting violently. The pair covered their faces as the wind blasted past them, Cicero holding onto his hat to keep it from flying off. When they looked back up, the courtyard was clear of the fog, though still dark. Only one or two windows possessed light, one source coming from the large room on the second floor. In the distance, a faint short silhouette could be seen facing them. "Strong indeed…"
Soon, the barrier also began to shift, a moderate hum emanating from it as the pieces began to move. They moved closer, watching as the fragments dragged back into place, slowly sealing the cracks in its surface.
"Cicero, look!" Youmu pointed down into the barrier. At the bottom, a large bluish-white mass could be seen, undulating erratically at the bottom of the barrier. Upon closer inspection, they all looked like small, glowing orbs, all pressing themselves up against the surface. A very small number of them could be seen wiggling up through the cracks, trying to make their escape.
"Oh, so these are your demons," Cicero noted. As the barrier began to reassemble itself, most were crushed by the closed spaces, their substance dissipating inside. Just before the last piece was finished, two desperately wiggled out, floating above the barrier before flying towards them. The two ducked as the entities passed over them; they appeared to have small skull-like faces on them. Both settled onto the ground, a whitish green light emanating from them. Cicero's eyes narrowed at the display, grimacing as he looked at the process. It was too bright to see everything entirely, but they could spot soft, pulsating shapes float in the mass, soon covered up by layers of flesh and cloth. The squelching of meat and fluids invaded their ears, ended by a sudden, shrill screaming. As the light dimmed, they could see two skinny bodies, standing awkwardly and moving sporadically in front of them.
"What is this…" Youmu looked on, one hand on Roukanken, "Fallen souls don't manifest their own bodies." They took the forms of two young men, their skin looking almost healthy, though they looked fairly underweight. Their clothes were tattered and dirty, and they appeared to have neglected the concept of hygiene years ago. After a few minutes, they started to straighten out, first looking at their hands then slowly looking up at each other. They looked as surprised as Youmu, examining each other quickly before smiling.
"Gorou… we've made it… We've come back!" one man said ecstatically.
"Y-yes, but how?!" asked the other, still in slight shock.
"I don't know, I don't know, but it feels… amazing!" he shouted. He took a deep breath through his nostrils and laughed. "We're alive again, old friend! We're alive!"
"Gah! Wait, Hibiki! What's happened to your eyes?!" the one called Gorou exclaimed.
"Huh? What? W-what's wrong?!" Hibiki asked frantically.
"Can you see right now? How is that possible?!" he Gorou shrieked.
"Just tell me what's wrong with my eyes!" Hibiki cried out.
"They're… they're half-gone! Hollowed out!"
"Wait a second… so are yours!" The two screamed simultaneously before taking deep sporadic breaths. "Wait, wait, what could this mean, Gorou? Do you think we're immortal?"
"Why would you think that?" Gorou asked in a voice that was at least less obnoxious to the ears, though he still sounded like a nervous man.
"Think about it…" He moved his hands in front of his eyes. "We should be in immense pain right now… But if we aren't feeling anything…"
Gorou's mouth gradually shifted to a colossal grin whilst breathing uneasily from the sudden epiphany. "I… I think you're right! We'll become the greatest thieves in history!" he exclaimed.
"Thieves?" Youmu muttered to Cicero, watching the two interact.
"Well, it would explain why they're here…" Cicero responded, a hand under his chin.
"Forget about that! We'll become gods!" Hibiki proclaimed, "But first, we'll need money to get back on our feet…" his sight slowly turned to Cicero and Youmu. "You there! Hand us your money and we'll let you live!"
"Sorry, my mistress never lends me money," Youmu responded flatly.
"I didn't even pay the immigration fee, dude. You're out of luck," Cicero added just as flatly.
"Gaaaaah, we know you're lying!" he grunted, taking out a tiny kitchen knife from his pocket, "I'll just take it from you!"
He charged at Cicero with a shout, brandishing his knife recklessly. Cicero apathetically stepped out of the way as he thrust forward, almost losing his balance with nothing to stop his momentum. In another second, he reached for Hakurouken in his coat, gently pulling it out and moving slightly to avoid the next wide slash from the guy. Briefly, Cicero kicked him on the shin, causing him to flinch and hold onto his leg before the tip of the wakizashi burst through the front of his sternum. He gasped in terror at the sight, then stared blankly out in front of him, his eyes glowing for a brief moment in his silence. Everyone was still for a moment until Cicero yanked the blade out from him.
"Sorry, I…" Hibiki muttered hoarsely, "I was being a bit irrational. I'll just go now… And rethink my afterlife…" As he finished, his body fell to the ground, a bluish white orb quickly phasing out from the top of his head and flying into the darkness of the cavern. The body quickly began to wither, converting into dust and leaving only his knife and clothes on the ground.
"Hibiki…?" Gorou called out, looking like he was about to cry, "You killed Hibiki?! You monster! Who am I going to do our trademarked 'Stab n' Steel™' with?! We were going to rule the world togetherrrrr, aaaahahaaaa!" he sobbed. "I'll destroy both of you!" he shouted, snot dripping out of his nose.
He made a run for Youmu, pulling out an even smaller kitchen knife from his sleeve. Youmu almost wanted to let him stab her to see if the thing was even sharp enough to pierce the skin. Rejecting the condescending impulse, she pulled out Roukanken and held the blade high towards his head, letting him run blindly into it. He screamed girlishly for a moment, thrashing about with the sword in his forehead before his eyes began to glow. Soon, he fell flat on his face, unmoving, with his body withering away like his friend's. There was no orb that came out of him, though. Only his clothes and knife were left, just like before.
"Guh, did you see his eyes when he got close?" Cicero stuck his tongue out, "it was like someone scooped out a cylinder of their eyeballs or something."
"How did this happen?" Youmu asked with intrigue, "Never have I heard of a soul simply reincarnating because they escaped Hell. This isn't even Hell's official domain anymore either. What could have done this?" There was no answer from Cicero for a moment as Youmu examined the remaining objects. She heard him shift his feet, then looked back at him.
"The better question may be… What could be doing that?" he commented. In the sky far from the palace, a bright white glow emanated from near the walls of the caverns, illuminating space around it. It travelled upwards, approaching a thick layer of clouds that had now formed at the ceiling, obscuring the stalactites that covered the top of the caves. There was a thin line of smoke behind it, the glow itself lightly pulsating in intensity. Eventually, it reached the top of its arc and began to descend, falling slower than it had risen.
"What is it?" Youmu asked, walking up next to him.
Cicero's expression darkened at the light. "A sign."