Quick notice that HollyEmpire00's looking for more work to beta. If anyone's got anything, feel free to PM her :)
Thanks for reviewing, Swift-Star, Hime-no-Umi and Dimwit~ Special mention goes to Dimwit (and consequently Gecko) for helping with my whimsical Latin, and Swift-Star for beta-checking despite a busy schedule. Love you all.
Also... I should mention that I really don't like the idea of applying manga!Takara to anime!Takara (see: final battle) so instead you'll have some original interpretation with manga influences scattered within.
let's go! →quality not guaranteed!
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"There are more ways to change an appearance than simply with contacts and bleaching," said Mephisto. "Eins, Zwei, Drei!"
There was another poof of smoke, this time white. When it dissipated, Rin blinked. Nothing had changed. Yukio, however, stiffened and reached behind him for his gun.
"What did you—"
"Eyes do not always show the truth," said Mephisto. "Yet in a world of multiple senses, is directly affecting the brain not a much better approach than merely masking what truly exists?"
Rin had crawled back to where he'd dropped the mirror at this point, and swore when he caught sight of his reflection. Where canary-haired Okumura Rin was still noticeably Okumura Rin, the blonde in the image looked nothing like him. Yukio's description returned to his mind, maroon eyes and a rounder face, and as Rin tilted his head to see how far the differences extended he was reminded of Mephisto turning his head earlier.
Self-consciously he rubbed his jaw—and finally noticed the ears that were very little demon and very much human.
Mephisto rummaged in his hat – this time, finding what he was looking for, his arm withdrew with a silver band between his fingers.
"This shall be your last favour, Okumura Yukio – after this, you are alone," continued Mephisto. "Konokawa?"
Rin blinked; "Yeah?" The name was really weird.
Mephisto tossed the silver band to him.
"Put that on."
"What's it?"
"A means of using your own energy to sustain the illusion, rather than my own. Be mindful: the stronger the minds you come to face, the more energy you'll need. Oh," he added, once it was clicked on, his eyebrows going up, "that looks quite good on you, Konokawa."
Mephisto snapped his fingers and all other conjured objects disappeared.
"You are still expected when school begins on Monday. Have fun staying undercover~" and here Mephisto's smirk widened; "Oh, this'll be a show! Let the game begin!"
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— part two: meomyr —
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Azuer :K. N.
7. they do not know this
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The news that they were finally to have a class on circles and sigils ever since the mission authorisation test did not go lightly. Gossip was plentiful, swarms of flies swarming around those affiliated with the cram school and even materialising into momentary bursts of confusion in those who weren't. So it was that Sunday afternoon that six exwires took their usual seats within their usual classroom, having only received the notice less than twenty-four hours before that class was indeed on, and waited for Kirigakure Shura to arrive.
Except, when the door slammed shut behind the person who'd entered, Kirigakure Shura did not appear.
"I am Kaede Prinshild," said the woman in the front of the room. "Upper Second Class."
She was a female exorcist, she wore the jacket of the Japanese branch, but that was where her similarities with Shura began and ended. Where Shura's hair was long, fiery, Prinshild's was droll and brown and kept strictly short in both fringe and length. She spoke with a foreign accent through thin lips on a long face. There was no skirt, no belt on the coat; only rough cargo pants tucked into the mouth of combat boots and buttons closed over a figure curveless and bulky. A scattering of hair pins were affixed to both sides of the raised collar. Her license was in one hand, stamped with the Italy branch's seal. The name on the license was hidden by her fingers.
Shiemi raised a hand, then faltered when a strong gaze turned her way.
"Yes?" asked Prinshild.
"Your license... says you're Middle First? Um, ma'am!"
Prinshild's lips pinched disapprovingly. "The Upper Class ceremony is tomorrow. They will be presenting new licenses there." She turned away to face the class, tucking the license into one of the flap pockets on her pants, and did not notice Shiemi's faint sigh of relief. "I understand this class used to be taught by Kirigakure Shura," continued Prinshild. "Understand I am nowhere as lenient. How many of you are Tamers?"
Shiemi and Izumo both raised their hands, one more hesitantly than the other.
"Your familiars?"
"Two Byakko," said Kamiki.
Prinshild nodded. "Fine. You, girl?"
"A-ah, Moriyama Shiemi," came the stammered reply. "And my familiar is Nii. A... Greenman."
"And is that your only Meister?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Look into getting an offensive skill set," said Prinshild.
Shiemi's eyes widened. "O—Offensive?"
" 'And the angel of destruction descended from the heavens: he with wings of gold, swords of fire and radiant image pure as snow. And in his hands, the true cross, in his words, knowledge, and unto humankind he bestowed the means by which demons may be slain.' Order, chapter 1, verse 6-7. Job chapter 1, 21: 'What the Lord gives the Lord can take away.' It is only in the past six hundred years that the Lord has gifted us holy weaponry. You would do good to use His gift while it's still given."
"I—"
"Whilst doctors and non-combatants have their roles on the battlefield, you are a Tamer that requires protection. Ensure you are not dead weight."
Shiemi simply blinked, nodded, and bowed her head to hide her eyes. She missed Rin, she thought. He would have been able to make things cheerier if he were still there.
Prinshild's gaze slid over toward the three from Kyoto. "Meisters?"
"Aria," said Shima.
"Aria," echoed Miwa.
"Ah—Aria," said Suguro, uncharacteristically surprised. "And Dragoon."
"Aria. That's fine," said Prinshild. She turned to Suguro. "How is Dragoon training? Who is your master?"
Suguro shook his head. "I don't have one. I was going to finish training for Aria first. Then I wanted to ask Okumura-sensei."
It soon became apparent when Prinshild's mouth twisted that, despite her stiff, expressionless appearance, that would be the location for identifying non-verbal cues. It was as soon as Suguro mentioned Yukio that the corners of Prinshild's mouth turned down.
"Very well," she said, simply. She spun toward Takara seated in the corner. "Your Meister?"
Takara didn't reply.
Prinshild strode to the side of his table, in large steps that echoed off the walls. "I asked you your Meister, boy."
"I don't see why I have to tell you, woman," said the bunny.
Prinshild slammed a hand on the desk. "I will ask you once more. Name and Meister."
No reply.
"There is zero point to being secretive. Knowledge of one another's strengths is vital in combat situations," said Prinshild. "I am now your sensei. You will do as I say."
"Takara. He's training to be a Tamer," offered Kamiki from across the room.
"Tamer?" repeated Prinshild. Rather than the answer being satisfactory, her lips thinned further and she spun back to Takara. "Summon your familiar, boy. If you won't tell me, then show me."
"Golems!" screeched the bunny. "Golems are golems! Golems are golden and and summon and slee—"
Prinshild raised her hand and slammed it on the desk again. "Boy. Summon your familiar."
At first there was no indication that Takara had heard, if he had heard at all. Then he rose to his feet. Rather than walking out of the room, however, he made the Sign of the Cross with his right hand; the puppet moved across his shoulders then down his chest from his head. Then he pinned a slip of paper to the bunny's open mouth, a summoning circle, and held the bunny outstretched before him.
"Summon," said Takara, tonelessly. Shiemi was sure she wasn't the only one who jumped at hearing his real voice. "With these four points I bind thee to my will. Ette!"
There was a single spark. The spark became a flame, growing at exponential rates, and then a golem of flickering reds and golds stood atop the floor.
Takara turned to face Prinshild. Shiemi wondered if it was her imagination when she saw the golem turn at the same time.
"Djinn," said Takara. "Fire spirit that cannot take form without possessing a clay golem. This is my familiar. Next time, ensure you obey Sir Mephisto Pheles's instructions, Prinshild-sensei."
"Sir Pheles...?" Suguro muttered under his breath.
There was no response except the closing of the bunny's mouth. The Djinn disappeared, and Takara ripped off the circle before sitting back down.
"And there you go," the bunny snarled. "Happy?"
Teeth clenched, Prinshild nodded. She stalked stiffly back to the front of the room as if her movements were stimulated by a wound-up coil.
"Signa intermedia, page three," she said. "Chapter one."
There was no book in her hands. The cue, however, was all the exwires needed, as there was suddenly a flurry of delving into piles and the flipping of pages throughout the room.
"Please read for the next thirty minutes in silenc—" Prinshild stopped when Kamiki raised a hand. "Yes?"
"We've already covered chapter one," said Kamiki.
"And chapter two?"
"Yes."
"Then back to basics," said Prinshild. "I do not trust Kirigakure Shura with any form of education."
"But Neuhaus-sensei already covered them before he left—"
"Irrelevant. Solid foundation of the basics is essential to mastering any form. You will read. If you do not read, you will read for homework, or you will fail this course. Please begin."
"Ah, man!" moaned Renzo. "Chapter one again?"
Prinshild-sensei had left them well before classes ended. There had been none of Prinshild's belongings left in the room, nothing to indicate she would return – and she'd hadn't – yet by some unspoken word, none of the exwires even stood up to leave though the teacher was gone, or closed their books and chosen to nap instead. Even if Takara began fiddling with the puppet again, but that was standard behaviour.
After all, Okumura Rin was gone.
Renzo stretched dramatically as the three of them returned to the boys' dorms.
"This sucks," he said. "And she's flat! At least Kirigakure-sensei had a nice pair to look at while she—"
"Not again, Shima," said Konekomaru. "That's scandalous."
There was a shrug. Sort of. "Yeah, well... is she gonna make us read every lesson or what?" Renzo's gaze flickered to Ryuji. "You've been silent a bit, Bon. What's on your mind?"
The answer was not immediate; Ryuji merely tightened his grip around the red carry-bag on his back and the sword hidden within. The Kurikara, unreturned.
"Prinshild-sensei misquoted," he said.
Konekomaru started. "Misquote?"
"Job 1:21," came the reply. " 'The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.' "
"You've memorised Job?" said Konekomaru. "We skipped from Kings!"
"What did Prinshild-sensei say?" asked Renzo.
" 'What the Lord gives the Lord can take away.' "
"Same thing. There're a million different translations, you're looking too much into it," said Renzo. "Doesn't matter if she's not an Aria. I wonder what Meister she is anyway... oh, we're here."
But even as they headed inside, even throughout the afternoon and into the night, the furrow between Ryuji's brows did not disappear.
"Excuse me!" called Yukio, as he entered through the doorway.
The shop was as it always was. Space was tight, much smaller inside than it appeared to be from afar. Rows and rows of books and drawers lined the sides of the room and bushels of leafy plants and flowers were tucked into whatever spaces that could still be found. A wall of glass bottles, all different shapes and colours and sizes, forced an already small pathway to split into two. The sharp tang of dirt outdoors was replaced by musky wood, almost overwhelming; shades of browns and greens bloomed with welcoming warmth that could be called suffocating.
At the counter, Shiemi perked up. "Yuki!"
"Good afternoon," said Yukio. "Oh—you're in uniform? Did you have cram school today?"
"Yes! They finally found a new teacher to teach seals. Prinshild-sensei isn't bad."
Yukio nodded, though he didn't know who Prinshild was. "And Anti-Demon Pharmacology?"
"Ah, Tsubaki-sensei's taken over for now. But..." Shiemi looked down. "I kind of miss you, Yuki."
"Sorry, Shiemi."
"It's okay. I know that... I know you're sad. Yuki...?"
"Yes?"
Shiemi tucked small hands into her lap. He didn't expect her head to shoot up, nor the resolute eyes that met his surprised.
"Nobody knew about Rin's funeral," she said. "You said... you didn't tell us because it wasn't important. But—I think it's important! You're not the only person who misses Rin! I—I wanted to thank him..."
The knife pierced his chest.
"I'm sorry, Shiemi," came the reply. "I... merely thought you would be better off not knowing. Forgive me; I suppose I was in too much grief to think clearly."
He wasn't lying. It wasn't the truth either, but it wasn't a lie. How could he lie to her... to Shiemi?
(But why did he feel like he'd betrayed her somehow?)
"I know," said Shiemi. Her smile radiated the sun(—though it wavered, heartbeat unsteady – corners forced). "I forgive you. That's okay. Come back soon, alright?"
Yukio nodded. The knife twisted. "I'll do my best," he said. "Now, I'll need to buy some more bullets."
"Yes! Of course!" Shiemi hurriedly flipped open the notebook on the table, and picked up the pen lying beside it. "Just the usual blessed silver-jackets?"
"Five dozen. Would you have any simunition rounds in store?"
She shook her head. "No... we don't stock those. You'll have to visit the armoury. Five dozen blessed silver-jacket bullets, .45 caliber, right? Is that all, Yuki?"
"Yes. Thank you, Shiemi."
"A—ah, no problem! Really... I should thank you," she said.
"Thank me?"
A cheery nod; an eager fall and rise by a head of blonde hair. This time her happiness was real – undoubtedly so.
"Thank you for talking about yourself, Yuki!"
The knife began to bleed.
"...You're welcome."
It was with bored eyes that Rin stared across the room, at the Kurikara hung within the wardrobe. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, unmoving, but it was long enough that knuckles digging into his cheek were really annoying and long enough that his tail had begun swishing just because of sheer boredom.
Yukio said not to go near it, so all he could do was stare.
Several schoolbooks were sprawled across the floor of his bed, books Yukio had left behind for him to read but each deemed too dull to continue. Earlier, Ukobach tried to invite him so they could make dinner together, but after less than an hour passed it was soon obvious Rin wasn't in any mood for cooking either. Something in him didn't feel up to it; a strange, niggling sensation.
There was more to life than cooking all day—he needed excitement! Chaos! Something!
...
Yukio said not to go near it.
...
Rin sighed, though it was more a grumble. He started fiddling idly with the metal band on his wrist, running his fingers along the grooves and playing absently with the sensation of metal in contact with his skin.
Yukio said not to leave the dorms, even though Rin had the disguise. Right before Yukio left to go do some whatever thing he felt like, leaving Rin to stay inside.
Yukio said...
Oh, to hell with Yukio.
Rin rose to his feet. He strode across the room, picked up the Kurikara, then returned to sit back on his bed. Especially, of all the things Yukio'd said before he left, he'd told Rin not to draw the blade. Multiple times.
Only, thought Rin, Yukio got it fixed but it still felt broken and so, so wrong. But why?
The door opened the moment Rin unsheathed the sword. Rin turned to the doorway and saw Yukio's frozen form and the golden bridge leading to Shiemi's house behind him.
Rin blinked, guilelessly, and quickly sheathed the Kurikara again.
It didn't change the fact that there had been no flame.
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Next update may be delayed, life's going to pick up very shortly.
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