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Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,
but to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but
for the heart to conquer it.
Chapter 11: Let the fight begin!
"I am you."
Benio stood paralysed, watching the..creature before her lick its lips which were curved into a terrifying grin, sending a wave of nausea up her body.
"What do you mean?"
"It" cocked its head to the left, pouting.
"I showed you, did I not ? " The monster raised its hand and Benio looked down at her own. The same gash was across both.
"How can such a lowly creature even be here ?"
To the azurette, the situation seemed near impossible.
Was she a magnet to impurities?
"A lowly creature, huh..." Myrtle irises boring deep into Benio's soul, she slowly edged closer, her footsteps reverberating abnormally, as if the current predicament wasn't frightening enough.
"You just keep proving how afraid you are of yourself."
This hit home alright.
"I'm not afraid anymore!" The child exclaimed in her defence. After all,she had overcome it all, hadn't she?
"Because of Rokuro I'm not scared anymore!"
The manic grin disappeared from its face to be replaced by a truly horrifying rage filled one.
The "thing" seemingly vanished, only to reappear behind the surprised azurette, who was too late to defend herself and went flying right across, crashing against an invisible wall.
The emerald eyed girl coughed up blood, the wind completely knocked out of her. She could hardly comprehend what was happening so soon in so less time.
"I almost feel sick talking to you," Her white locks danced behind her as her hips swayed with every step.
"You're so hopeless."
Benio hoisted herself off the floor, noticing the nervous shaking of her fingers. Spitting out the blood lining her mouth, she eyed her opponent in disgust.
"I could say the same."
Fists struck each other accompanied by furious kicking , one clearly stronger than the other. But Benio wouldn't back off for all her money, no amount of injuries nor trauma could stop her approaches.
Positioning herself away from "it", she pulled as much oxygen from the air as she could into her lungs, panting in exhaustion.
Looking at the amount of cuts she had managed to put on the creature, she proudly smiled.
Not that she herself was any better, but the dark haired maiden had realised her own disadvantages and built on them.
If every injury inflicted on herself would cause similar harm to her opponent, then she would let herself be beaten up equally badly.
But wouldn't that cause an endless loop?
This is where she held a full house.
"I've done enough damage to you," she said, wiping the crimson liquid trickling down the side of her face in satisfaction.
"My Trump card should work now."
"It" cocked an eyebrow and folded its arms before the kuji-kiri branded on its chest.
"Oh?"
"I may get injured as much as you," Benio proceeded to explain through ragged breathing and a grin.
"But out there, my body will get corrupted by your impurity attacks and my familiar will heal me. Not you. "
Loud laughter resonated, suddenly coming to a sharp end. What was so funny? Hadn't she just clearly been defeated?
"How foolish you are, thinking you hold all the secrets in a one-on-one fight that has hardly even begun."
Now it was Benio's turn to watch in confusion.
"I had told you that you and I are one and the same, but there is a tiny bit of difference."
Yeah, you're an impurity and I'm an exorcist, Benio thought to herself.
"You see," it said, beginning to get dowsed in cyan flames emitting a strange florescence, almost appearing as if "it" had spontaneously combusted.
"The principle of exorcist healing techniques works by harnessing the particular person's spiritual powers, and giving it a boost."
As the last of the flames vanished, out "it" stepped, every cut, every bruise disappeared into nothingness.
How?
"Right now, you are nothing but a foreigner invading your own mind. The only reason I haven't crushed your spirit is by choice."
She made a hand gesture imitating the squashing of a grape.
"Everytime your familiar heals you, I will get stronger. But he does it not because your body is being corrupted, but because he doesn't know of any method to save you."
Benio grit her teeth, perspiration covering her crinckled forehead.
"How?! Have you invaded my soul? Were you born from my dark thoughts and feelings? Are you the reason I lost my spiritual powers? " The teen yelled out in frustration.
"The only person you have to blame for losing your powers is yourself."
"It" scoffed, eyes cold as the air encapsulating them.
"I wasn't born from you. I am your last hope at regaining your powers."
The demonic entity traced the edges of the blade that appeared in its hands. A horrified expression of sudden realisation covered the girl's face.
"I am your spirit guardian."
Rokuro panted, having managed to avoid his opponents attacks for a good two hours. All he had done when the clock ticked from 72 hours, to now a little below 70, was dodge and run away from the fierce powers of the strongest exorcist, proving to himself just how far he was from his goal.
"You're a waste of a prophecy, you know."
He winced, feeling the bone in his shoulder crack after having taken one too many kicks. Even though the person in front of him looked about his age (give or take a few years), the extent of his powers seemed impossible to comprehend. For the time they had been here, it seemed to Rokuro as if he was just playing with him like a cat with a ball of wool.
The brunette was chasing the light at the end of the cave which was slowly moving further away.
Was there another way out?
"She'll die, you know."
Rokuro looked up at his older companion with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows. Somehow the "she" had registered in his brain as his companion who was running marathons in his mind and he hoped it was a mistake.
"She's...in danger?"
Tenma smirked, finding the easiest way to get a rise out of this boy was to hit the one weak point he had.
The woman he loved.
"What do you think?"
Rokuro bit his lower lip, pushing all the tire and pain aside. There was no way he'd give up when they had gotten so far.
They had sworn.
Rokuro charged, gathering balls of spiritual energy in the palm of his hands, throwing punches left, right and centre.
Tenma swiftly dodged, a signature smirk adorning his boyish good looks.
"Even after we worked so hard to separate the two of you. It would be a shame if she were to die."
Rokuro threw a kick to the left and faked a punch from the right, blocking any future moves from the older boy.
He had him!
Quickly, Rokuro pushed his fist towards the crimson haired boy's chest, aiming to knock the living crap out of the smart talking piece of crap.
And he quickly realised his folly.
Rokuro's fist made contact with the air as Tenma vanished from before him and in a flash, reappeared behind.
Rokuro spun, blocking the boy's attack, as if his body had subconsciously registered it.
"You're finally getting the hang of it."
It's time to begin teaching.
Tenma kept throwing punches at the bloody faced teen, who blocked with all his might, somehow holding up against the beastly strength of the strongest exorcist there was.
Wherever Rokuro threw punches, Tenma vanished in a millisecond and reappeared just a centimeter away, almost as if he was moving at light speed.
Content with the boy's frustration, Tenma proceeded to explain.
"You would wonder why such a useful technique was never taught to you in school, wouldn't you?"
The brunette said nothing.
"There were mainly two reasons."
"The first being that this tactic was only useful in fights with basara, because of their human-like reflexes. Now wouldn't that be great? Everybody could at least escape Basara if they knew this technique!"
The fake excitement made Rokuro want to punch a hole in the wall. Or him.
Tenma held up two fingers.
"But then there's reason two. If this technique were to be used in a Basara fight, it would mean certain death for your average exorcist. Why, you ask?"
He paused dramatically, grinning.
"Because it would consume insane amounts of spiritual power, basically making you defenseless in any other way. All your equipment, all of the enchantments would be reduced to dust, which is why it was kept buried in the ancient scriptures."
Rokuro quirked his eyebrow. Why was he teaching it to him then?
"You have beastly amounts of spiritual power, which is how even during battles, you heal continuously from the inside."
The older boy didn't stop talking, even after reading his student's look of bewilderment.
Rokuro opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. What was he on about?
And why was he helping him in the first place?
"If you can harness that power, this technique will be a cakewalk."
While the boy stayed lost in his thoughts, Tenma pushed forward, using the technique he had just spoken about to confuse Rokuro.
"Time is running out, twerp. You don't have time to leisurely think."
The bruised teen scanned the timer.
60:00:00
They had been here for 12 hours already, and it had borne no fruit. Was he going to keep rebelling against somebody who was clearly helping him, or would he just take the training with his mouth shut?
The odds were in his favor from both ends.
"How.." he murmured through his bleeding mouth.
"How do I do it?"
Tenma grinned, crossing his arms before his chest, creases appearing near his heterochromatic eyes.
He began to revolve around Rokuro, appearing- disappearing- reappearing as the teen tried to follow him with his eyes.
"Force your spiritual power to its lowest possible, and then in one second, squeeze it all out."
He clearly wasn't very good at explaining. And Rokuro being...well, Rokuro, all he did was stare dumbfoundedly.
Tenma rolled his eyes.
"Consider it somewhat similar to a tube of toothpaste. Roll everything to the complete bottom and then, with the one squeeze, push all the contents out."
This registered a bit.
The crimson prince pulled out his talisman and got more serious and Rokuro tried to implement the technique, but failed with every attempt, ending up breaking his jaw bone, his femur and dislocating a joint or two.
What was he to do?
"It's sad how you and the Adashino girl have regressed," he said, with a look of disgust.
"You're so dependent on her. But wasn't it you who left her in the first place? "
"Shut up..." A low growl escaped Rokuro's mouth.
"There's no need to drag her into this."
Somewhere in his conscience, he knew part of it was true. He had left her on her own, to live through all the troubles by herself and it kept eating away at him.
Had he escaped?
"You know it's true," Tenma probed further, increasing his ferocity with every attack. The bangs that covered the younger boys head now jumped to the side, revealing the cruel eyes of death.
"SHUT UP!"
Force to the lowest.
In that one millionth of a second, the world slowed down for Rokuro, even the very able man before him came to a standstill.
He charged towards Tenma.
Squeeze it out in one second.
When Rokuro looked around next, he had vanished and reappeared right in front of Tenma and he was so surprised, that he snapped out of his angry assault and stumbled backwards.
Grinning from ear to ear, Tenma eyed the clock.
48:00:00
"Stage One cleared."
Shimon walked up into the exorcist union behind his blond partner, who hadn't said a word since they had left the peaceful environment of his house after hid report on Narukami and the Tsuchimikado head's request to meet the Twin Star.
And he could understand why.
She was concerned both for her childhood friend and the currently vanished one. Just where had she disappeared off to?
The reckless teen she had known Rokuro to be would have probably made preparations to leave the island by dawn.
As they stood before the large door which had the words "Tsuchimikado Arima" inscribed on them , Mayura took a deep breath in.
She already had a bad feeling about everything that was about to happen, but she couldn't back down after mustering the courage to come here. She was stronger than before and she needed answers. Calming herself, she pushed on it lightly and it creaked open.
But the minute she would notice what awaited her inside, only more questions arose.
The plush office gave off the scent of sandalwood with an exquisite book case containing an eclectic mix of official documents, sacred texts, histories.
And on the mahogany desk to the far corner, sat a man, his silver hair blowing in the light breeze, amber eyes peering at them behind his thin rimmed glasses.
"Welcome, Shimon-kun, Mayura-kun,"
He sounded... terrifyingly sweet, so much so that the Suzaku boy had to hold back a shiver. A smile carved the edges of his face in a sadistic manner, giving him the appearance of a tiger ready to pounce.
And that analogy wasn't entirely incorrect.
"I was expecting the two of you."
But his words bounced right over their heads, when the duo saw what lay on a stretcher in the centre of the room.
Sunken cheeks, brown hair dishevelled, light bruising on parts of his body. He almost seemed weak, malnourished, dying.
And he was a face they recognized only too well.
"ROKURO!"
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