Chapter 13
Jun lay in his bed staring at the ceiling and feeling overwhelmed by self-pity. He hadn't slept since Seiji left him dumbfounded at the clinic and he continued to replay the confrontation in his mind. Even still he found it difficult to believe that he had managed to drive Seiji away, so often had Jun considered the warrior of halo to be too patient and too proper to tell anyone how he truly felt. Jun had never heard Seiji speak so softly, so angrily before and the memory gave him a chill. And yet, despite Seiji's frustration he still extended the invitation for Jun to return to Nasté's, to join the troopers and become the dysfunctional family that they had been during the first youja invasion.
Jun found it hard to believe that no matter what he did, no matter how cold and angry and explosive he was, the troopers continued to accept him as their own.
Jun clasped his hands behind his head. He wondered if perhaps he should get up and go study the night away at his desk as he did most nights, his nose buried in medical journals and case studies, but he could not tear his mind from the strange events of the last week. He could not stop thinking about his dream and the voice that whispered to him from within it, he could not stop thinking that this Mai character claimed to be his family. He could not stop wondering if Seiji was right when he said that Jun didn't care whether he lived or died.
As he lay there Jun tried desperately to answer the questions. He tried to remember his parents before the accident, if they had ever mentioned a pregnancy or another child at all, if they had been acting strangely. But Jun's memory refused to cooperate. He remembered reuniting with them after Arago, remembered them being amazed when he did so well on his entrance exams that he skipped a grade of middle school, but everything else was blank. He had only glimpses of memories and he could never be certain if those glimpses were real or if they were merely dreams that his wounded mind created to fill the void.
More troubling to Jun than the questions asked by the troopers were the questions he was asking of himself. He had made up his mind to tell vodka man downstairs that he wanted out, that he wanted to leave, to quit working such a dangerous and illegal job in order to pursue a legitimate career in medicine. And when Jun had uttered the defiant words that evening vodka man laid him out flat, dragged him to the bedroom, and locked him inside. When Jun woke later that night he truly believed that there was no way out and his heart sank and his eyes grew hot with moisture. He wondered what he could do, how he would tell Nasté what he'd been up to, how she would react. Maybe if he explained his desperation after the accident she would be more understanding. She had to find out some time.
Jun rolled over onto his side and stared at the wall. He wondered what time it was. Then he closed his eyes, sighed and decided that he would have to do some research before he could return to the troopers. He needed an extensive medical history for his mother, needed to revisit the accident that had taken her away. It was a moment in his life that he chose to avoid at all costs but now it seemed that it was a day he could no longer deny. He had to know what that voice meant when it called him the harbinger of death. He had to know what caused it all.
For the first time in many years Jun fell asleep hoping that he would dream of that day.
Some hours later Jun woke to the sound of an explosion and the room around him rocked. He smelled fire and heard faintly vodka man's terrified yelps echoing from the sitting room. Jun jumped from his bed, rushed to the door, and pulled hard against it. The door was still locked and there was no way for Jun to open it from the inside.
At length the house fell silent, the trembling stopped, and Jun began to panic. He looked all around and cursed at his bedroom's lack of windows. On his desk the yoroi ball erupted into a bright black light and Jun stared at it helplessly, faced with the sudden choice of being trapped in an apparently burning house and wielding the armor that he continued to reject. After a moment spent frozen in debate he grasped the orb and held it up, summoned the black under gear, and looked again at the door.
He knew that the under gear imparted him with strength and speed that he did not have under normal circumstances and yet he remained uncertain that he could bust through the strong lock. He charged at the door then and connected hard with his shoulder, and when the door gave way he stumbled forward and crashed head first into the wall. Then he stood, dazed, and looked about.
Thick billows of black smoke filled the hall and the sick smell of the burning house sent Jun reeling. He rushed down the stairs and peered into the sitting room. Then he stopped dead in his tracks and stared.
The whole place was ablaze; tall orange flames licked at the ceiling and the paint bubbled and melted from the walls. A strong frigid breeze blew through the room and Jun could see clearly that the whole back end of the home had been demolished. Through the gaping hole the rest of the neighborhood was in a similar state, the house opposite his had crumbled to its foundation and several more structures burned in the distance.
How long had he been asleep? What the hell had happened?
Jun rushed toward the back of the house, ducking under fallen wood beams and dodging the rapidly spreading fire. As he rushed he felt ever more ill. He knew that something terrible was happening and he suspected that he was the cause.
As soon as he entered the sitting room proper he was certain. The walls were stained with dark red blood, as if someone had taken to the room with a vat of splatter paints, and it caked thick on the floor and dripped from the ceiling. It sizzled and stunk when it hit the flames. In the midst of this chaos lay vodka man, his torn and broken body splayed out on the floor, insides dripping from a dozen wide jagged wounds on his torso. It seemed as if his body had been shredded and his face was frozen in a twisted and wide eyed scream of terror.
Jun's blood ran cold and his head became light. His first thought through the nausea and panic was medical aid, but he knew that the effort would be useless. Vodka man was quite dead already and no amount of help could ever begin to repair the extensive damage to his body.
The hope of resuscitation was replaced then by guilt, intense and painful guilt of a kind Jun hadn't felt in years, and he was overwhelmed. It was his fault that vodka man was dead. Jun lived in the same house; vodka man was directly responsible for Jun's life. If Jun hadn't been around then vodka man would still be alive.
He understood suddenly what the voice in his nightmare meant when it had called him a harbinger. Death followed him wherever he went, methodically picking away anyone who cared enough to get close. It was inescapable and Jun cursed himself emphatically for ever allowing vodka man into his life.
Jun continued to stare as the house crumbled into flame around him. He wondered how long death had been following him, how many of the terrifying murders and bodies of junkies downtown were his own fault, directly or not. Doubt crept into his mind that the wreck that killed his parents was an accident at all. It was his fault.
As he stood there staring blank at the massacre before him Jun grew ever more lost in the sudden swell of suppressed emotion. His senses numbed and his mind raced with grief and self-loathing. He felt only vaguely the bite of the frigid and unnatural wind as it swirled around him, was no longer aware of the fire or the cold. He heard nothing and felt nothing except for the warm wetness of his eyes and guilt for the strong iron beat of his heart.
The room echoed then with a piercing roar and Jun was uncertain from where it came. When he whirled about he caught his breath; Byakuen hunched in the doorway, the hair on its neck stood on end and its posture suggested that it was about to pounce. The tiger issued another cry though Jun could scarcely hear it through the wind, then turned and rushed away.
Jun followed the tiger into the night and watched as it bolted down the road, dodging piles of flaming debris and ducking between panicked residents of the neighborhood who rushed away from their crumbling houses. The sky above was black and foggy and Jun realized at once that the same haze that had enveloped the shrine had fallen over the city and was thicker and more oppressive than it had ever been there. The air swirled with long black bodies that dove and attacked the retreating residents.
Jun took off down the way blinded by fear and adrenaline. The devastation was so complete that he wondered if the world was ending and with the icy and unnatural shapes darting about he was certain that if he stood still he would be engulfed. And though he ran with no intended destination he soon found himself in the trade district.
People ran wildly through the streets screaming for loved ones and their lives. Those who did not run fast enough were thrown to the ground by the diving spirits and, more often than not, were killed unceremoniously on the spot. Already the streets were littered with the bloody bodies of the dead and dying and their numbers grew every moment.
He was surprised when he found himself standing in the waiting room of his clinic, staring at the empty space as though it would give him solace or guidance. But the blood sprayed on the wooden partition and seeping over the ground was no comfort at all; anyone who had remained in the place that evening was dead. The world was dying. Most of them were already gone.
"I knew you would come here," said a voice from behind the partition and when Jun looked a dark woman stood behind it. Her voice was low and smooth as she spoke and sounded with such cold intensity that Jun could not help but be horrified.
"Who are you?" He demanded, and the woman laughed. "What is going on here?"
"After our encounter in the temple I did not expect you to be afraid to summon the shadows," she said, suddenly quite serious.
"What are you talking about?"
The woman seemed genuinely confused then. "You have yet to accept your armor," she said at last and a sly smile tugged at her thin lips. She looked out the window and crossed her arms over her chest. "You understand that the devastation of this prefecture is your fault, don't you?"
Jun remained very still. He understood that the woman was toying with him though she spoke so cryptically that he was entirely uncertain what was truth and what was a lie. He did not dignify her with an answer; he merely clenched his jaw and steeled his gaze upon her.
"Surely you don't believe you can return to the others in your condition," she continued. "Not only are you too weak to wield your armor, your mere presence will corrupt the others beyond hope of being saved. You will be their undoing just as you've brought doom to so many others. It is not coincidence that you are here, alive among the wreck that you call your city while the helpless fools outside die."
"Who are you?" Jun growled.
"My name is Mai," the woman said and walked through the partition before dipping into a low bow. She swept her hand along the floor and peered at Jun with a wide smile. "I am a servant of the nether realm and a bringer of death. But that is beside the point," Mai continued and stood straight. "The fact of the matter is that you do not fully understand the havoc you have brought to this place, to those you love, to those you serve."
Jun swallowed hard and stepped back. Thoughts fluttered through his mind of summoning his armor, though he did not know how to do it, and wiping this spirit out before she could cause any more harm.
"There is hope, however, if you should choose to serve with me," Mai said thoughtfully. "You are a young man with potential beyond your reckoning, if you would surrender yourself to my lord and master then your friends could be saved."
"They're not in any danger," Jun spat. "Certainly not from you."
"Fine then, I'll simply have to dispose of you the same way as I disposed of that disgusting specimen in your house, the same way I disposed of your mother and father."
Jun's eyes grew wide and his heart jumped into his throat. He did not understand what she meant by the threat but he was certain that there would be no way for him to counter her attack without the assistance of an armor or the other troopers. So he did the only thing he could, turned and fled the building, and sprinted as fast as he could toward the eastern outskirts of the city. Perhaps if he could escape the fog then he would be safe. Perhaps then the others would be safe.
The spirits were never far behind him when he exited the clinic. They dove at him recklessly and though they did not hit him with force he could feel the icy chill as their incorporeal bodies passed through his, and each time he felt the sensation he felt progressively weaker. He knew then that the spirits did not want him dead, they wanted him weak. They wanted to capture him.
He did not know how far he had gone when his legs buckled beneath a swarm of the black figures. His head became light and he closed his eyes, he felt a scream in his throat but could not hear it over the whooshing of the bodies. He felt tired then, his body grew heavy, and in a final act of desperation he crossed his arms over his face.
He felt a sudden warmth and calm and while he was certain that the spirits had not left he understood that they were no longer passing through his body. Then he felt sudden comfortable weight on his shoulders and his arms and as the armor continued to assemble around him he slowly realized what was happening.
When he opened his eyes in the midst of the transformation the world was completely dark, as if all the light of the world had burned out. He could see the vague forms of spirits surging above him, apparently frightened enough by the appearance of the armor to stay well away. And while Jun felt no reassurance by the presence of the armor he was altogether thankful for it. Likely that he would have been captured if it had not come.
At length the transformation was complete and Jun stood upright and watched awestruck as the city lights slowly raised. Then, without so much as surveying himself, he bolted off once more.
Ж
When the five troopers arrived in Toyama they understood the severity of the consequences of leaving Jun alone. No sooner had Seiji arrived at Nasté's house when the oily fog began to form over the city. It was as though the enemy was waiting for one of them to be alone.
They wasted no time in mobilizing, filled with hopes of heroism, but as soon as they reached the city proper they understood that there was no chance to save it. The place was in complete ruin, fires burned in almost every building and most structures had already been reduced to piles of smoldering debris. The decision was made to find Jun as quickly as possible, abandon the city as lost, and regroup at Nasté's.
Byakuen led the way into the chaos, initially directing the group into a dense residential district where they split into teams to search the razed houses. Byakuen disappeared then and did not return for a long while, but when it did it issued a long roar and waited expectantly for the troopers to collect. When the five gathered, Byakuen took off once more, heading downtown.
There was woefully little fighting to be had for the warriors as they ran. Occasionally the black figures would dart from the sky only to be expertly deflected back into the night. Only once during their flight were they faced with any serious offense when a group of some two dozen of the figures crashed to the ground and stood as corporeal beings in a humanoid form.
The spirits were as shadows, with definite form but without distinct features, and they were weaponless and armorless. When they lashed out to fight their arms extended in long arcs and demolished anything that they contacted. They rushed at the warriors in waves, three to one, and when they were cut down they disintegrated into fine particles of black dust. At the end of it all the air was thick with the mist of dissipated spirits.
When the warriors entered the metropolitan district Seiji rushed away from the group and toward the clinic, Toma close on his heels. In the meanwhile Ryo, Shin, and Shu searched buildings and alleys for any sign of their missing companion. After a while they heard Byakuen roar once more, though it seemed as if the tiger was far away, and the five rushed toward the sound.
Ryo was the first to meet the tiger near the edge of the city and he could clearly see the edge of the mist as it spread. He knelt beside Byakuen and placed his hand atop its head, then peered into the fog and waited for the other troopers to arrive.
The shadow appeared suddenly in the haze and Ryo was startled by its form. Against the backdrop of flame and fog it appeared a dark silhouette, a human shape. Above both shoulders raised an arc of pointed metal that stretched a foot high and peeked out again at the hips and Ryo was certain that he was facing a deadly winged demon. But as it approached Byakuen roared loud and then lay down and Ryo caught his breath as the shadow stopped and stared at him, wide eyed and clearly afraid.
"Jun?" Ryo cried and Jun did not respond.
Ryo remained very quiet, watching the young man as intently as Jun watched him, and he grew nervous at the prolonged silence. He could not see Jun's face, only his eyes as they bore into him, and could read no outward expression at all. Jun stood as still as stone, his hands clenched in tight fists at his side, and at last he finally lowered his head and stared defeated at the ground.
When the others arrived at the scene one by one they too stopped to stare at Jun as he stood there, and each time they shot Ryo an expression of confusion. They were all completely uncertain how to react to Jun's body language. Jun had seemed so confident before yet now he stood with a resigned and inferior posture, would not look up from the ground, and seemed unaware that the others had surrounded him. Ryo wondered if Jun was even conscious, wondered if he knew that he had been armed and armored at all.
"Jun," Ryo said again and stepped forward tentatively. He shot a glance at the other four troopers as he did and each gave him a nod of approval. "Are you all right? What happened here?"
"Stay away from me," Jun said quietly and Ryo stopped mid step. His voice was quiet and could scarcely be heard above the din of the dying city and Ryo was confused.
"You need to come home with us, it isn't safe here," Ryo continued and stepped forward again as if he were approaching a wild and wounded animal. He worried that Jun would lash out and without proper knowledge of the armor Jun wore Ryo could not be certain of what havoc it could wreak if its power was unwittingly released.
"Stay away!" Jun screamed and his voice broke. His shoulders trembled under the weight of the armor and Ryo was close enough now to see him clearly.
Jun's face and hands were stained with blood though whether it was his own or someone else's was unclear. He did not appear wounded and his expression was blank and lifeless. The only indication that he felt anything at all was the tears streaming down his face.
"I need you to calm down," Ryo said and looked past Jun to Shin who stood directly behind Jun. Ryo motioned for Shin to come close, to restrain Jun if necessary, and Shin inched in. "We're going to take you back to Nasté's so that we can figure out what is going on here. We just want to help you."
Jun remained silent, staring at the ground.
Ryo motioned then for Shu and Seiji to come closer. Eventually Shin, Shu, and Seiji were all near enough that they could reach out and touch Jun if they were so inclined, and Ryo took another step forward.
Jun looked at Ryo then with eyes as wide as saucers and it seemed to the wildfire that the frightened young man was about to strike out at him. Tripped by the sudden motion, Shin grasped Jun from behind, holding his trembling shoulders while staying as clear as he could of the massive blades on his back, Shu grabbed and held Jun's left arm, and Seiji grabbed and held the right arm. And as if the collective touch had triggered some massive shutdown Jun collapsed on the spot, crumpled to the ground, and lay quite still surrounded by his worried and quite confused companions.