Note: I'm sorry for taking so long! I have to admit that… I experienced writer block. Before this fic is even made, I've made the draft, but not the specific detail. And when the time comes to type it, I don't have any idea how to make things that way without being forced. LOL. As if it's not enough, I even get sick repetitively. *cowers in the corner* Sorry…I'm certain that an apology doesn't worth much, but I hope you guys would understand.
"There's always going to be bad stuff out there. But here's the amazing thing - light trumps darkness, every time. You stick a candle into the dark, but you can't stick the dark into the light." - Jodi Picoult
The flight of stair was eerie as the light dimmed inside the hallway. Each sides of the wall felt like closing in to him as he kept climbing each of the stairs with sadistic glee. The power of illusion to distort his sensory perception had vanished without a trace and he assumed that because the top floor was restricted for the Gold King and his Clansmen would make an exception of his chamber to be free of illusion.
As a member of Dresden Slate, he could faintly perceive the glimmer of Gold and Red Aura much further beyond the passage. Even from distant, the small radiance of those power enticed him to hastily make them his. His heartbeat raced as his anticipation peaked up that he almost could not think of anything else but the blissful moment when he succeed to steal the ultimate power of the Slate. He could not stop himself from feeling proud of what he had accomplished.
That night when his initial plan had failed due to a miscalculation of his part to disregard the possibility of the Blue King to thwart his perfect tactic, he felt immeasurable fury for his failure for not being able to even inflict direct damage to the owner of Blue Aura. He intended to be the sole and absolute king of this world, and yet his loss had trampled his pride. Nevertheless, he was now satisfied. His brilliant strategy did not only earn him a little taste of Blue Aura, he even got this opportunity to take what he had longed to seize; the scorching, vicious Red Aura. Certainly such offensive power would be more than happy in his hand to be useful to his magnificent plan to dominate the world. He could not bear the notion of the current Red King for oppressing such gift. He scorned Mikoto's reluctance to wield the Red Aura to its maximum capacity and even perceived it as Mikoto's weakness.
With tremendous amount of power and his own ability, he thought that it would be a child play to torment the Gold King and overthrow the old man from his throne as the shadow ruler of whole country. He only had to wait the right moment when the Gold King had weakened the Red King so he could lunge into the depth of Suoh Mikoto's conscience to embezzle the Red Aura.
He immensely ridiculed the ruling kings as he could not understand the thought processes of the kings before him. They all possessed such power that they could take the world for their own benefit easily, like snatching a candy from a baby. Yet none of them flaunted their power to inflict fear in people's souls. They even remained behind the stage, keeping watch of the country and their Clansmen like dormant caterpillar. The kings were by all accounts chosen men; the special being compared to the dull, ordinary people. Kings were supposed to be feared and respected, but none of them even showed their existence to the world unnecessarily. He could not stomach the idea of himself as a mighty king being put on the same pedestal of those ordinary weaklings and treated equally.
For that reason, he would bring downfall to the rest of the kings and once he stood as the supreme king, he would correct the world and make it to worship him, as how those people should treat the existence close to divine being.
"Now, who should be the appetizer?" He spread his arms like free wings with frenzied delight.
A drop of sweat trickled down to the mat, combined with several drops of scarlet blood, which matched quite well to Mikoto's vermillion-painted firestorm. He panted slightly hard, although an infuriated grin was still plastered on his lips. Even though he was fighting a losing battle against the second king, the thrill of the fight and the adrenaline rush still made his blood boiling like an active volcano, waiting, longing for the moment to erupt and release all the rage and suppressed fury inside it until it burned everything into ashes, brought end to all lives. The voice of his mind was no longer audible as he regressed fighting with his instinct like he always did at the peak of his ecstasy of battle. The feeling was like an addiction to him, but tiny bits of him still chained him down to the conscience, trying to reason and hold him down from losing himself. Nevertheless, he was forced to acknowledge that he was barely hanging at the normal margin of utilizing the Red Aura without destroying himself. Mikoto began to wane for not only fighting the Gold King, but also against his own power from consuming him whole.
Daikaku stood tall before the Red King, seeming to understand the reason for a short suspend of their fight although he could not bring himself to admit that despite all of battle experience he had accumulated for years, fighting another king, no matter how young his opponent was, was still taxing. A sweat had rolled down from his forehead and his breathing had become ragged a little with the constant sparing between golden celestial sparks and the flame bursts.
'Just how long should we continue this pretentious play?' Daikaku was troubled as the same line kept repeating inside his head. The Red King was at the brink of losing himself; he could sense it entirely, for he had seen many falls of the kings and their reaching end moments. He may not share any memories with the third king but a short banter, even after Mikoto was chosen by the red Sword of Damocles, but he always had a share of sentiment to the fellow kings for the burden they all had and he would always be anxious when one of the Swords showing the sign of cracking and crumbling.
He could not have figured out how long the time had passed since they tried to lure the Colorless King, but he was certain that the time spent should be more than enough for Weismann to finish his business and indirectly corner or lure the Colorless King to this floor. However, his unease grew with each moment without any indication of the Colorless to make his appearance soon. Prolonging the play was not an option either since it might blow up their whole plan. If Suoh Mikoto fortuitously met his ending here, not only he would lose his home or risk his Weismann level to prevent the calamity, Weismann would certainly blame himself for not being able to save the young king and Daikaku had enough of witnessing as despair looming over his friend's soft features.
"Red King, stop this instant. You are at your limit." The elder casted down his gaze with faint hint of worry lacing his voice. However, his statement only fueled Mikoto's fortitude as he straightened himself into battle stance again.
"No, I will bring the end today." Mikoto stared into the depth of Daikaku's eyes and the elder could only sigh resignedly. It did not take him to be wise to figure out the reason behind Mikoto's willpower that almost seemed like suicidal attempt with all carelessness aspect. He had turned a blind eye on the fiery king's occasionally intimate moment with the unconscious Blue King during his visits to medical wing in his residence, but it did not mean he would deny their relationship. He could feel the desperation of Mikoto to end this chaos quickly to ensure the safety of his people and his possibly lover and Daikaku decided that he was absolutely not going to be the one of crumpling that determination arising from the will to protect.
"Then get yourself together, Suoh Mikoto, and show me the weight of your resolution."
Mikoto refocused until he could feel the jittery flicker of his flame, dancing madly inside his soul as it waited for moment to burst into inferno. When the Red Aura answered his call just in a blink of eye, the fire swirled around him like a massive concave mirror in front of him and advanced forward to the elder king. He understood that using brute force would lead him to nowhere, let alone victory, but Mikoto was still in disadvantage in bare-handed fight and the Gold King would always put up his defense wall whenever he attempted to get close. Apparently fighting from distance was on Daikaku's favor more than him.
Before his crimson wall could even get closer to the Gold King, the celestial planets were constructed against the red and forged into beyond comparable shield. The friction between walls left the burnt smell and a wisp of black smoke, and after a while, the ruby-colored shield started to falter and got pushed backward toward its owner. Mikoto groaned as he pushed his power, while trying not to listen the faint sound of cracking of his Sword of Damocles from distant above.
Daikoku abruptly increased the output of his power to the maximum to rip apart Mikoto's shield by force. The Red King was unable to anticipate the sudden and brutal assault that he only managed to call forth his Aura to surround him and cushion his body as the abrupt attack from the gold shield hurled him forcefully and knocked him to the entrance door of Gold King's private chamber. The sliding door clattered and crumbled under his weight and the entrance was wide open, connected to the hollow hallway. Although he had somehow managed to reduce the damage with the involuntary activation of his Aura, the hit on his back was still painful and Mikoto coughed and wheezed slightly with the stabbing pain on his chest as he tried to breathe or move. His ears were ringing loudly and the sense of his balance was pandemonium. His head felt murky and dizzy for slamming the back of his head against the door because of the impact that he swallowed hard, forcing himself from soiling the ground of Daikaku with his vomit.
Mikoto wobbled and leant his back on the nearby wall and collapsed against it. Daikaku watched impassively as the opponent in front of him slouched with pale complexion as he called back the celestial stars floating around him. The Gold King stepped forward carefully toward the fallen king as he folded his arms inside his kimono sleeves. "Will you give up?"
Mikoto barely caught the word or even answered the Gold King when suddenly his instinct sensed the immediate threat nearby from the other direction and as expected, the rabbit guard lunged toward him without warning from the dark corridor, screaming like a madman with a knife on his hand. "You're mine!" The golden-eyed king was bewildered as he managed to turn his head to the side and witnessed the approaching assailant; he was caught on his vulnerable moment that he barely managed to lift his hand without fainting with the sudden strike of dizziness. Mikoto would not be able to defend himself appropriately against the possession if the Colorless King decided to invade his core at this moment, let alone from the sharp object on the guard's tight grip.
Nevertheless, it was not in his plan to be eaten by the Colorless King. If he had to surrender his life, obviously his soul would not rest in peace if he had to die at the hand of his arch enemy. He had chosen his harbinger since long time ago and he did not intend to break that decision. The Red King was about to get back on his feet slowly, gritting his teeth as he withstood with the excruciating pain, the surging waves of vertigo and the deafening sound in his ears, but he would not make it in time to protect himself from the swift attack from the youngest king.
"Just give it up! In exchange, I will get even for your loss!" The Colorless King cackled in a shrill sound that worsened Mikoto's ringing ears. His vision was blurry and Mikoto swayed weakly against the wall, unable to focus his sight to anticipate the attack in time. He could see the glinting knife was thrust toward him, aiming for his chest, but his flight response was in disarray because of the damage he had received from the Gold King previously. Mikoto braced himself for another pain, already assuming that the Colorless King would probably not be reckless enough to land a lethal blow so to take over his aura. However, before he could even close his eyes, waiting for the predicament to pass, several beautiful color of golden celestial spheres had stood before him, guarding him just in time against the Colorless King.
The rabbit guard whirled around to face the grim-faced second king with a snarl and seethed as he slammed the wall basked in golden light separating him from the weakened Mikoto, "Don't bother me, old man!"
Daikaku continued to walk without sound as he stepped on the straw mat toward the young kings. His face was darkened and his eyes glared without mercy as cold as he was in the battlefield that inflicted fear to many of his enemies. "It should be my line. Who are you to trespass my property?"
Mikoto exhaled rather loudly with closed eyes, trying to recover what he could get in short time while adjusting with the pain inflicted by the white-haired old king behind the wall. He had no intention to play the role of damsel in distress that needed rescue. In fact, with the presence of Colorless King here, it would mean that their plan had advanced to the next phase. When the pain had ceased down and the sound in his ears had only left a trace of its presence, Mikoto began to push himself against the wall and stood steadily as he loudly commanded, "Lift this barrier."
"Don't be a fool. What can you do in your condition?"
"He is mine."
The Colorless King took a step back, already assessing the situation in his mind. He quickly understood that he had been lured and deceived and he was probably a little bit too late to return back. He was a minute too late to realize that the Red King and Gold King were on the same team, to the extent that they would battle each other to draw him in here under false pretense. His mad grin faltered for a bit, and a sweat started to roll down from his forehead. He once again fell into such unpredictable situation and this time, he would have no time to lament but hope for another miracle.
The rabbit guard clicked his tongue in annoyance and abruptly whirled around to the other direction from Gold King's chamber to take flight. The situation was not in his favor and he could not afford to get himself trapped between kings that he had no choice but to delay his arrangement to consume the other auras. However, his movement halted immediately once his eyes landed on a certain poised, white-haired student basked in silver light several meters across him standing still with clasped hands on his back and conflicted brown eyes.
"Would you please stop?" A loud, yet clear voice like the sound of spring breeze drowned the silence.
Isana startled the rest of the kings with a pair of amber orbs reflecting significant clarity of his naïve soul, but the rabbit guard immediately collected himself and laughed that sounded more like a bark of a mad dog. "I see that you are quite stupid! You have lost and yet you still dare to show your face in front of me?"
Isana watched at the young king in front of him impassively, feeling wary of such deceitful nature without a shred of tact. This kind of children was beyond saving as he already got addicted to the taste of devastation. He clenched his fist, "I cannot allow anymore mischief, especially if you are to abuse the power of Slate."
The Colorless King gritted his teeth with transparent aggravation, "Don't dictate me. Why don't you just stand back and be quiet just like a proper elder?"
"Your power given by Slate is not for you to use, but for the good of many people."
"Shut up!" The young king snapped, already losing his composure. "Because you are all like that, acting like cowards, afraid to take the throne as the almighty existence, the Slate chooses me to fix this mistake! Only I should be glorified for being the chosen!"
"You're wrong." Isana averted his gaze to the side, gripping his painful chest tightly. How could such a king with distorted mind be chosen by the Slate? He thought the Dresden Slate existed solely for making a better future of the world, but apparently he was mistaken. The Slate itself did not have any thought of world peace on its own. It was like a magic device, it indiscriminately bestowed special ability to the compatible users, without even evaluating the good will of the owner. However, he was responsibility for ever digging out the plate with ancient inscribed patterns and allowing the whole situation to take place. He would no longer turn his eyes away from the evil that was facilitated by his negligence. "If you abuse your Aura, it will become your downfall."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" The Colorless King screamed with muddled mind. "I'll take over your body first then!" With that, the fox spirit expanded his monochrome field with isolated dimension and Isana instinctively stepped away from the fox as if he was attempting to escape the possession with his amber eyes wide open; as if waiting for the inevitable to come. Inside black and white space world, he could see the fox grinning widely while screaming 'Mine!'
But when the fox were just plunging his soul into the Silver King, he realized it a little too late as Isana smiled weakly and whispered as he put his clenched hands on his palpitating chest. "Now you cannot run away anymore."
"Wha- Damn you, Weismann!"
The Silver King hastily swallowed the fox spirit into him, already feeling the sickening sensation as for having a foreign existence in his vessel. His heart ran wild; his mind was overwhelmed with the wicked, poisonous subsistence while the memories of Colorless King kept splashing into him like constant sea waves as he was trying to contain the writhing soul to imprison it.
Weismann gritted his teeth and when the mental exhaustion became too much to bear, his legs buckled and he fell on the wooden floor with ragged pant. From the periphery of his vision, he could see his best friend ran toward him in rush and Mikoto had knelt next to him with a hidden hint of anxiety behind those golden eyes.
"Weismann!" Daikaku unconsciously raised his voice, nearly shouting with transparent worry was apparent on his wrinkled face. "This is so careless. Can you handle this?"
The Silver King felt like answering the latter with consoling smile to wipe away that anxiety, but even for doing so, he had to muster all energy of his fibers. "I'm fine. It's just…Apparently I've underestimated him. Even if he is young, he is still a king." With the last sentence, he forced an exhale, since even breathing started to be a difficult task for him. He pounded his chest lightly, as if trying to cease down the pitiful shriek of certain teenager inside him. How he wished to knock the other existence out to give him some peace even for a fleeting minute.
Mikoto remained still, instinctively watching in silence. Even though the Silver King told him that the Silver Aura would never allow any external factor to harm him, and thus theoretically speaking, the only king that Colorless King would not be able to touch would be this seemed-to-be frail student, the extent of Colorless Aura was still unknown. He could not lower his guard until their goal was accomplished. The moment that Weismann seemed to fail to contain the evil, he would not hesitate to strike down the man, even if it meant his own demise. He had told his intention before, and the Gold King seemed to half-heartedly agreed to his terms. If the worst was to occur, they could only hope that the Silver Aura would also grant him immortality against other King's power, just like how it expelled Colorless ability.
"Now, what do we do?" Isana coughed slightly, fostering a smile on his face as he lifted his head to face the other kings. "Should we try to move him to my dead vessel? I really hope that we won't have to be a murder and kill one of your Clansmen, Lieutenant."
The Gold King lowered his gaze with the darkness draped on his conflicting eyes, "Sometimes, one small sacrifice should be done for the good of many," said the second king in low voice, already feeling wretched at the thought of sending his faithful guard to oblivion. But his resolve would not waver, and so was his Clansmen, he believed. If he had to soil his hand with blood once again for the peace of his beloved country, he would not hesitate. He rose to stand and extend his hand to his old friend, "Let's go, Weismann. The situation would do us no good if delay our plan any further."
The Silver King winced as he extended his hand to take the offered wrinkled, but firm hand as the pain kept pricking inside his chest. The fox spirit was still in rampage and their souls were clashing and countering in the isolated domain within this mortal vessel. The young king gnawed at him, ripping him apart from within as it tried to get free if not trying to gain over the Silver Aura which constantly rejected him. Isana wondered if the Colorless King was simply being desperate or the fox was waging a losing war against Silver Aura. However, they had advanced this far, and he was not on his own in this fight, thus he gritted his teeth and bore the weight of his sin, even if he had to drag his feet or crawl as long as their plans could succeed. Any of it.
While his best friend led the path almost in rush in front of him, Mikoto was watching him intensely from behind like a watch dog, completely wary of him as he contained the twisted fox spirit. The situation was too grim and yet he could not stop himself from not letting out a soft laugh that came out like a sardonic snort. He had never imagined that his life would turn upside down like this, and the last time he turned his back on the lieutenant, Isana thought that living in solitude would spare him from committing another heart ache, but alas the fate told him otherwise. But living with Kuroh for a brief moment brought him hope. There was a future that he would like to see. He would willingly spill the last drop of his blood to get those precious moments again.
"If he takes over, I will immediately destroy you."
Isana turned his head slowly with his tired smile, expecting an intimidating growl from the Red King, but Mikoto surprised him. There was a phantom of understanding inside those shining golden orbs, offering comfort despite the warning and Isana decided that he could not ask for better assurance than this king with crimson-colored mane for their plan. So he finally said after a minute struggling for air and energy to formulate his words, "Yeah, I will be in your hands."
Mikoto slightly staggered on his feet as he carried the unconscious rabbit guard with his arm slung across Mikoto's shoulders for support while clenching his chest which still throbbed with every twitch of his fibers as he followed the first kings. He might have broken one or two ribs during his battle with the Gold King, but the pain kept him alert and it was still tolerable, so he attempted to pay no heed toward the sensation.
"We are here."
Daikaku glanced at his companions with a frown before he pushed the sliding door in front of him. The next room was vast and casted in darkness as there was only a ray of light in the middle of room, illuminating a solitary cold coffin. The oldest king stepped aside, allowing his friend to take the first step inside. As if in awe, Isana forgot his suffering for a brief moment, not realizing how his feet had carried him. When he had reached the casket, he supported his weight with his hands on the glass cover of the coffin. The resting figure inside was still in his fair youth with waist-length silver strands and shut eyelids. It felt weird to see his own body from third-party point of view. In a sense, it made him wonder if this would be how it felt the soul got drifted from its body.
In an instant, the other soul inside him thumped so loud in his chest that Isana coughed in pain as he tried to hold back the resisting Colorless King. Daikaku hurriedly came to his side when he fell on top of the coffin with ragged breathing and constricted chest. His heart felt heavy and there were earsplitting screams in his mind, as if there was a crowd in his head. Each of them was nothing more than gibberish noise without distinctive personality and the Colorless King's voice inside him was more like a broken radio. At that second, he understood that these voices were all the existences that the fox had absorbed and now they were reduced into figment ghosts of past. The current Colorless King was only a pile of random souls, leaving only evilness at its core.
When a minute had passed, the white-haired king could finally breathe in relief as the twinge slowly died down; possibly because the Colorless King had exhausted himself trying to break free from his bind. Only then, he finally realized that Daikaku had kept calling for his name and suddenly it felt like how they were before the end of the war. And despite the circumstance, such thought brought smile to his lips and he chuckled softly.
"…Why are you laughing at his moment?" Daikaku raised an eyebrow and stared skeptically at his friend who was gradually regaining his control.
"It's just…your expression is priceless, lieutenant. No matter how you have aged, you don't really change, have you?"
Daikaku used his fan to gently hit on top of Isana's head, chiding him. "Be serious, Weismann."
"You're too serious, lieutenant." The Silver King pouted a little as he rubbed where he had been hit.
"Oi."
The sudden interruption snapped both of the first kings out of their little banter and turned their attention to the sole Red King. Though he felt weak and his muscles protested whenever he moved, Isana tilted his head and smiled compulsorily. "Ah, forgive me, Red King. I see that you have bound the poor guard properly."
Mikoto threw a glance at the unconscious Gold Clansman without his mask, completely tied and covered eyes, abandoned next to his feet. "Took all of his weapons too."
"It saddens me to say this, but I think it will be better if you temporarily revoke his status as a Clansman too, lieutenant. In worst case, the Colorless King may take advantage of that power."
The Gold King hesitated for a minute under demanding stares from Isana and Mikoto. "…Fine."
He swept his hakama and knelt next to his rabbit guard and touched his forehead quietly. The next thing they knew, the whole room was engulfed by blinding golden light that Mikoto instinctively shielded his eyes with his arms.
The light died as quick as it came, but Mikoto had to blink several times to adjust his vision back to the dimmed chamber. Isana was affected as well that he narrowed his eyes, hoping that such attempt could help with his sight sooner. He grumbled half-heartedly, "Lieutenant, next time a warning could help. Why your power is so flashy?"
Daikaku snorted at the snarky comment, saying nothing in return as he stood back and folded his hands inside the sleeves of his kimono.
Isana exhaled as he began to feel the palpitating throb again that his feature started to turn pale again. Mikoto quickly caught the hint and he slid his hands inside his jeans pockets. "You should release him now."
The Silver King answered with a defiant smirk, "Well, I just wonder if I can contain him for longer to punish him."
Mikoto clicked his tongue and frowned, "Stop playing around. I'm tired of waiting to annihilate him."
"Suoh Mikoto, refrain yourself. You swore not to break your Sword of Damocles in my residence. As a matter of fact, I'm sending you the bill for the destruction you have caused to my front gate."
"I promised to try." Mikoto corrected with a pointed look against the hazelnut eyes, while ignoring his responsibility regarding the damage he had previously done.
"Now, now…I'm releasing him, okay? Can we focus now?" A sweat formed on Isana's forehead and his face started to be contorted in pain.
Mikoto begrudgingly nodded. He realized that there was similarity in the ambience surrounding Isana and Totsuka that he found himself agreeing to Isana quite easily. They were air-headed, benevolent but dreadfully perceptive.
There was no better word to express his relief as he unleashed the foreign spirit inside him that kept getting expelled by Silver Aura. Once the rejection reaction was no longer within his vessel, his body felt light although the exhaustion remained. His legs buckled and Isana abruptly sat on the top of the coffin, trying to regain his stamina. The fox spirit sprinted toward his previous vessel, to Gold King's disappointment, but Mikoto wasted no time but to keep the possessed guard still under his foot.
The sole Gold Clansman remained still, and Mikoto held his breath.
"As we fear, he returns to the previous body, instead to my old one." Isana panted, swaying slightly as he rose from glass casket.
"There is only one thing left to do." The edge of Mikoto's lips twitched upward, as his golden eyes sparkled with unlimited vigor at the unconscious rabbit guard. The tongue of flame began to swirl around him; starved to lick and burn. But Isana swiftly grabbed for Mikoto's arm, as if to snap him out of his reverie. The flame ceased down immediately from where Isana had touched him and no burn wound was inflicted on his skin. "I would like to avoid unnecessary death as much as possible."
"I agree with Red King, Weismann. This is futile. He has no ability to possess a corpse." Daikaku lowered his head as gloom fell on his eyes. "The moment your soul left for this young vessel, your old one is no longer immortal. Even the best medical employees have confirmed the death. I would like to avoid the casualty from my side, but sometimes a sacrifice is necessary."
Suddenly the guard tensed under Mikoto's foot and began to resist the bind angrily like a wild animal with furious snarls, shouting gibberish like, "I'll kill you all!" But Mikoto mercilessly stepped on the back of the man with more force than necessary with a glint of rage in his golden orbs. The possessed guard coughed and wheezed pitifully that Daikaku steeled himself from feeling sympathy to his unfortunate subordinate. "If you pity him, I believe that we have to finish him quick that he would not even feel pain."
"Would you be able to land the final blow to your own people, lieutenant?"
Daikaku lifted his gaze and stared straight at his friend, searching for condemn for his judgment. But inside the amber eyes, there was nothing of sort but compassion and it broke his heart more. He wished someone would punish him for his cold-heart decision, but none of the kings compelled him. He breathed out as he whispered his answer, "Yes." Both Isana and Mikoto then stayed silent, giving a short moment of farewell for the elder king.
In the next moment, there were a blinding light in myriad color of gold, silver and vermillion and explosion from the top of Gold King's palace that the shards of glass rained from above and one of the Sword of Damocles above the building shattered into dust.
Anna stared at the bright noon sky darkened from her favorite color into cloudy ashy one. Inside her pocket, her hand trembled as it traced slightly cracked ruby marbles. A gust of winter breeze blew passed through her, blowing her silver strands and skirt gently and the cold air felt like freezing ice on her skin. The snow storm seemed to be closing in, and yet the tempest in her heart had quelled down. Although she could perceive that her beloved King was almost at his critical point, but the tragedy had passed them by.
The young strain finally sighed in relief before her crimson eyes searched for a certain blond. When she spotted Totsuka, she ran toward him and hugged his waist from behind.
"What's wrong, Anna?" Totsuka seemed to surprise by the sudden clasp, but he smiled gently as he saw HOMRA's little princess's head. However, he was completely mortified when Anna lifted her head, after answering him with a little shake of her petite face. She was smiling like a pure divine cherub; the rarest smile that he wished he had his camera with him to capture that expression and make it eternal.
"It's finally over." She whispered quietly as she buried her face to his lower back.
As if he could read her mind, Totsuka beamed at her, resting his hand on the crown of her head and letting the comfortable silence to fall between them for a moment as they shared the warmth.
After a while, the rest of members had begun to walk back to their safe haven. He patted her head gently, as if alerting her that it was time for them to go home. "Let's go, Anna. The air has turned cold."
She replied with a little nod and took his offered hand to grab and they walked side by side in silence. Just as soon as they began to stroll, the first snow dropped on top of her head, as if telling her that the winter had just arrived. As Anna rose her head, the sky hovering on top of her head were draped in the gray-colored veil and tiny white flakes leisurely poured down, piling and blanketing the ground with pure, white color.
His sapphire eyes stared blankly at the outside of the glass window, watching at the first snow of the year. He finally realized the reason why the air had turned cold, although the chill did not really inconvenience him. He ran his fingers through his coal-colored hair and exhaled exhaustedly as he turned his head toward a certain cobalt-haired king on the bed next to his chair.
The monitor attached to his king beeped in annoying sound, but he had slowly adjusted and tuned it out. Fushimi focused his attention between his paperwork and the soft, wispy sound of breathing coming from beside him. At some point, the tranquility that dawned in the white chamber with overwhelming smell of antiseptic was unbearable.
For weeks, Scepter 4 was not able to visit Munakata, under the order of Gold King. Not that he would intentionally go on his own will anyway, but his coworkers would probably drag him on the way if they were granted such privilege. During that period, all he could remember was the infuriatingly relaxed Captain engaging him with useless chatter and casual smile as he went to his superior's office to report in. He remembered his grace as his captain elegantly took the tea cup and brought it to his lips, deliberately ignoring a plate of a heap of red bean paste in front of him. While the memory should bring him frustration like usual because it always got on his nerves whenever he saw his superior taking it easy after dumping all the administrative works on him, right now he only felt weary. He would blame the dim ambience on the murky weather. Nevertheless, now that he was left alone keeping watch on his king in the isolated medical room, Fushimi begrudgingly cursed himself for missing that bothersome captain instead of this dying vessel.
"The winter has come and you are still sleeping. I think there is a reasonable amount of time for you to take a break." Fushimi started to talk without leaving his gaze from the sole patient with his pale, ashen skin, knowing that there was no one to answer his remark. "If you haven't taken in incompetent fools who could not write their own reports properly, I would not be this busy. Don't you think that you should take responsibility for that?"
The only response he got was the deafening machine noise. He clicked his tongue, irritated, and continued to stare hard at the falling flakes as they piled up by the misty windowsill.
"I thought I was going to die." A cough was abruptly heard.
"Weismann, you're exaggerating."
The Silver King was sprawled with his back on the half-burned floor that the dust was collected on his pale-colored hair, streaking it into gray. "But I'm serious. I even wonder if any of you actually tries to hold back your power. I barely manage to stabilize it." Without even looking, Mikoto could hear him pouting, but somehow the image did not suit him as the first and immortal king.
Mikoto quietly smirked as he watched at the crumbling rooftop above them while lying on the floor next to the white-haired student. The wintry air crept in through the hole and the snowflakes fell through above them. The peace suddenly sunk in that he almost could not believe if everything was over. The rush of adrenaline had died down, leaving him bare with hollow numbness. So much had happened for the whole day and in fact, he did not see this coming when he first arrived to this building.
Despite the calm he experienced, he also sensed the lingering feeling of remorseful from the Gold King. Mikoto could not blame him, and could only remain silent. One of his Clansmen had died valiantly although he did not volunteer for it and the palace that the Gold King had taken pride in was reduced to rubble. As if sharing the same sentiment, the gloom fell on Isana's face and his half smile faltered into guilty one.
"Lieutenant, I'm sorry…"
"Don't, Weismann." The elder promptly interrupted him, "It's my responsibility."
Mikoto pushed himself from the floor and sat down, facing the first kings with fiery stare, "No, it's ours."
Isana watched the solemn Red King for a while in awe, before a small smile crept back to his lips as he closed his eyes, drowning himself to the stirring chill of the first winter. "Yes, I agree."
The wrinkle on his forehead creased as he frowned, but Daikaku did not argue back. He simply stared to the far hazy horizon through the shattered window with gleaming hazelnut eyes. For a while, none of them removed themselves from the spot, as if holding a grieving ritual.
The world was basked in colorless radiance.
He felt like standing in the midst of snowstorm, unable to decipher what was lying on the horizon obscured pure white fog. He was not even certain if he had a certain goal in his mind as his mind was as blank as paper sheet. Time seemed to pass him by but he barely registered it as he felt bottomless sense of void. The surroundings were painted only in white; without any stain of other color.
Then suddenly a chime of summer wind bell rang faintly, whispering the name that he could not really remember. He turned his head slowly, watching in daze, without purpose. When he unconsciously attempted to step forward and extended his hand to reach out to the invisible sound, he began to notice the steel bars that stood before him and coldly stopped him from venturing further to the white field. It was that moment when he looked around and realized that the whole bars were to form a giant birdcage without exit door and he was somehow imprisoned inside it.
He traced the chilliness of the bars with the tips of his fingers and slightly flinched as the coldness seeping into him through his skin.
"Munakata."
He snapped his head out of his trance, when the murmur of a name felt so close. The voice was so familiar that it ached. Before his mind could register the owner of that tone, his lips had uttered the name that felt somehow foreign to his memories, and yet intimate to his lips. "Suoh…"
His head was foggy; he could not even remember who he was, let alone the person that he had just said his name. But the longing could no longer be constrained. Just like the echoes got louder and closer, the desperation started to dwell inside him that he tried to extend his arm as far as he could into infinite dimension, wishing to see the other side beyond the cage but he could not even be able to slip through the space between the bars but his arm.
"I have to go…" Munakata repeated like enchanting the spells, feeling crushed when unidentified anxiety settled in. The chain, with the other end connected to the marble table in the center of the cage, clinked around his ankles as he persistently pulled on it, trying to make it as far as he could, but he still could not wander outside the sanctuary. His mind screamed as his continued with his futile effort.
However, out of the blue the shackle shattered and it broke into pile of dusts and the birdcage slowly faded away, to his surprise. When he looked around in wonder, the small hourglass that was solely placed on the table near him had completely stopped the flow of sand. It lied still, motionless. Somehow he understood that the time was up, although he could not recall what the time was for.
He whirled around and started running to the unknown horizon with a single mind in his head as his compass.
When his eyes fluttered open and the color of black filled his vision, he wondered if he was still drifting in that isolated world but just in another place. However, there was so much sensation surged inside him that he had never felt inside that empty space; relief, exhaustion, and mostly confusion. Moreover, the air that lingered in his room felt terribly biting and cold against his skin, even though he could feel the weight of his blanket enveloping him. It failed to offer much warmth for him. For a reason, he vaguely recalled the comfortable heat and the striking red color it came with, but he could not remember what precisely the source of his comfort was. All he felt was the longing for that heat as he instinctively shuddered with the cold temperature this room had offered.
The light inside the room was turned off and there was no moon light even breaking into the chamber. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Munakata turned his head toward the window, although even such small gesture drained him out. His body felt unpleasantly heavy and his muscles screamed even with a slight tense of his fibers. He exhaled exhaustedly once he managed to steal a look at the outside through the glass window, veiled by transparent curtains.
The world outside was in diverse contrast of gray, but it was still beautiful with the stark of white slowly, soundlessly fluttered down from the sky. The beautiful view of silence and remoteness mesmerized him that he spent time watching, admiring the weather. The trees outside his window had withered, dying under the piling snow, hibernating waiting for the spring season to arrive. However, as he gazed at the leisurely falling snowflakes, the moment felt like eternal and the winter seemed to never depart.
He could not remember how many hours it had passed; it could be a minute, or it could be more than an hour, he had lost the count of the time without a clock indicating it. He tried to catch any sign of life other than him around, but there was only stillness. Not even a faint whisper or howl of the wind could be heard from this isolated compartment. Thus when there was a faint light of daybreak at the periphery of his windowsill, Munakata lightly anticipated if a new color will join in and give a new palette of magnificent view before his eyes, giving him a sign that he was indeed no longer in solitary, frozen time.
It surprised him when a ray of light came inside the room from the opposite side of the window after a creaking sound of the door opened filled his ears. Inside his dark room, the sudden light was blinding and hurting his eyes that he impulsively squinted while turning his head toward the door direction. However, before he could even figure out the intruder, the earsplitting sound of clattering tray and shattering glass and a small gasp jolted him that he marveled how the prolonged silence could sensitize to his auditory sense to small sounds.
Nevertheless, when his vision could finally adjust with the light coming through from the hallway across his room, there was no longer a person standing there. Munakata tilted his head slightly, questioning what he had envisioned before. However, from distance, he could hear the incoming noisy sound of multiple hurried steps drumming on the corridor. If his throat was not that dry and he did not feel this tired, he would have reprimanded them to keep it quiet in annoyance to abrupt commotion.
He barely had time to register what had happened; suddenly a group of people wearing white coats and uniforms barged in and fussed over him, talking to him, questioning him. The noise irritated him, but the torrent of exhaustion started to flood in again and his eyelids felt heavy that he decided to tune them out and once again flung into the world of paper white and hushed sound.
End note: So yeaaahh, here is the last climax. The next chapter will be the last one and there might be an epilogue, I haven't decided. Finally the ending! I know that most of you would say that too. LOL, do not fear! The last one will not be long to update since I don't have to fight writer block. I think…(^_^)v
Viviane1993: I'm sorry for taking so long! But let me tell you this, if it's not for you, I probably still laze around, trying to fight writer block half-heartedly, hahahah. Yeah, I'm pushing myself all thanks to you! :D So I'm really thankful for your constant encouragement to keep writing and even reaching to the final chapter~! *glomps* And forgive me for not being able to write the moment between Gold King and Silver and Red Kings when they formulate the plan. It will take too much detail, and as much as I don't mind writing it, I don't wish to prolong the story and bore readers ^_^; (The last chapter is boring already so…at least I should not kill this one too) So yeah, the story will keep moving forward, I will let you imagine the moment they shared during the plan discussion.
AkiFushi: Aki-chan! I'm glad you like the Sarumi moment, hohoho. Saruhiko should just accept Misaki's feeling though…and stop being tsundere. :p I have to admit that I write the part of Saruhiko and Munakata relationship because I have my own guilty pleasure with these two, lol lol. But anyway, glad you like it! And btw, I didn't kill Shiro! Yay! So please cheer up now, hohoho~
Aang: Hello, aang! Good to see you again~! I hope you are still around to read this update as well. This chapter is also dedicated to you after all, one of my faithful readers who keep encouraging me to write *hugs*