Disclaimer: I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho
Pain defied time, Ayama realized.
No.
She had always known, but right now, the idea seemed to slap her in the face. Ayama sat there for a long time with only the corpses of those around her for company. The scent of blood didn't taint the room – it was the room. It embodied it. So much so that the only word she could use to accurately describe her surroundings was bloody.
Her tears had long dried, she cried until water refused to come out, until she felt parched from all the water and blood that had left her body. She didn't go to quench her thirst though, instead she stayed there. Unmoving like a doll. She should have stood up, should have run – what if Koenma came back? But she couldn't find it in herself to do so. All she did was mindlessly stare at the soul in her hands and run her fingers on the now empty shell it had left, almost as if she were expecting him to wake up. But of course that wouldn't happen. She had dealt with death, knew how he operated and this was one of those times where no matter how much she begged or pleaded her prayers would go ignored.
Gods didn't listen to demons.
It was cold tonight – the forest always was, but today it was an empty kind of chill. The kind that didn't leave shivers in its wake. Only bleak emptiness, a featureless void. Ayama's hands were stained red with Hyoukoki's blood, but it didn't stain his soul. No. It kept its ethereal shimmer, comforting her with its warm glow and silent presence. Just as he always did.
"I forbade you from ever leaving my side," Ayama whispered, looking down at Hyoukoki's body and caressing his cheek. Her hands left bloody fingerprints all over his pale skin as the memory of his displeased face entered her mind. "You kept your promise," she muttered, voice cracking once more. "You're such a good boy."
She didn't know why she was speaking.
What was the point?
The dead didn't listen to the living.
"I wonder if your soul can hear me," Ayama continued to speak. Her throat was hoarse from coughing out so much blood, but she couldn't stop. It was the first time she had ever lost control over her own mouth. It was just so much easier to keep on talking, instead of focusing on the wet feel of his blood. "That… would make your mother the happiest woman alive."
His soul continued its soft caress against her palm and for one foolish – or motherly? – moment she allowed the thought of him to invade her mind. His younger self, his rare smiles and his embarrassed, yet straightforward personality. No matter how he was feeling, Hyoukoki always had a hand ready to reach out and help her. Pull her from the dangers of loneliness and solitude.
Her son that had been with her from the moment of his conception, her son that she had carried herself and raised in her very arms was now dead before her. A fact that her mind had already accepted, but her heart was a stubborn thing – refusing to catch up to reality. Feelings were such a stupid thing to have. But she didn't regret having them. Though, the feeling of a child dying long before his parents birthed an entirely new kind of emotion that made her ache. Agonizing. That's what it was. Absolutely agonizing.
Her hand slid off his face to fiddle with his long hair.
"Are you cold?" She asked to air. "It gets cold this time of year. I don't want to leave you out here to freeze."
She gave him a once over.
"But please bear with the chill for a while longer," Ayama muttered, finally standing. Her legs shook so badly that she almost stumbled. But she ignored her state as best she could, careful to keep her face completely composed as she moved to the side of the room to grab her pipe. It was broken in two. Nonetheless, she grabbed it and sat back at his side. Being extra careful with his soul. "I want to sit here with you for a moment more. I want to see your face. One last smoke in peace in our perfect home within this impregnable forest."
'Kaa-chan!' Ayama heard a young Hyoukoki call out to her. Another echo of the past that she tried to ignore as she tore off a piece of her bloody kimono and began wrapping the broken pipe in a half-hearted attempt at repair. 'We're living here now?'
'Do you like it? No one will bother us here.'
Lies.
'We're not going to travel anymore?'
Wish for it and I'll do it.
'I'll take you wherever you want to go.'
'No,' a childish smile. 'I'll stay with you here.'
Fool.
Regret whispered to her in her mind, scratching her with sharp nails and pinning her with a smile full of pointed teeth. Her conscience was pounding on the door and peeking through the floorboards in desperate want of attention
Ayama didn't know when her tears had once again begun to fall. She didn't know how her body was able to expel so many fluids without running itself dry, but she quitted her thoughts and ceased her fumbling hands. Her lips twitched and she restrained a sob. It was useless to rant and rave and cause people misery. Her weakness was offensive and changed nothing. Instead, she smirked. Not haughty, not teasing – she donned it to keep her composure. Tears were enough to express her sadness. If she were to cry out and curse Spirit World, wishing for revenge then she'd only worry the rest of her family. No. That was the superficial reason. She told herself that because the truth was far more selfish.
If she were to let her emotions loose, she'd break.
Plain and simple.
'Compose yourself,' she mentally reprimanded. The voice in her mind was harsh and cool. It was the vixen in her – the part of her that didn't let her lose sight of her current priorities. It's what kept her rooted to reality. 'You have other children and far too much to do. Allow yourself this moment of reprieve and you'll fall into despair. There will be time to mourn at a later date. So…'
"Compose yourself," Ayama muttered, breathing in and out. This may have been the time to cry, but it was not the time to lose herself.
Crunch.
The sound of a twig breaking and heavy footsteps approaching reached her ears and Ayama immediately straightened. Her tears evaporating at the sign of danger. Was it another Hunter coming back to finish the job? A curious demon that had stumbled into the forest that for once wasn't surrounded by her mist?
The steps were uneven as if the one outside were injured and unable to walk properly. Ayama could hear panting and wondered if perhaps that really was the case, but no matter how much she tried to sense the energy of the one outside, she couldn't. The intruder was either extremely adept at hiding his presence or was just far too depleted of energy for her to actually sense anything. Instead of dawdling, Ayama picked up Hyoukoki's sword, before moving to find an empty vial and a hiding spot to keep Hyoukoki's soul safe from harm's way.
'Don't hold any trinket in such high regard that you'd mistakenly run back for it in times of danger,' she had always said. But this would have to be an exception.
Demon, vixen, murderer. She'd be whatever she had to be to protect his soul.
The steps reached her door just as she hid his soul in a clump of vines. With a cold glare, Ayama turned to her guest.
Only for her eyes to widen.
Youko was dying.
His men were dead and he could hardly stand.
He was alone.
Not that that mattered. It had been this way from the start. It was only right that that's how it was again at the end of it all.
He could feel his life slowly ebbing away. After he had taken a direct blast to the stomach that left a gaping hole in its wake, hunters and ogres alike had surrounded him. His men had been taken out long before the death of his partner. Taken out by sheer numbers. He was the only one left.
Even his partner had gone. The bat running straight into death's welcoming arms.
In his fury, Youko had recklessly killed many at the cost of a few more injuries. But he had slaughtered enough that he was able to shift into his fox form and narrowly escape his own demise. But, of course, they weren't going to let him go so easily. A group of Spirit World Hunters had chased him across the plains of Demon World and into a thick forest. Youko wasn't getting far with his injuries and he was only getting worse as time passed. But fortunately, he was able to find a small canopy of trees, just large enough to fit his fox-self inside.
He stood out far too much in this form, but it was far faster than his humanoid one.
With a grunt, Youko shifted back into his usual state.
It had begun raining. The water trickled down his skin and mixed with his blood. The hole in his stomach wasn't getting any smaller, nor had the blood ceased its steady drain from his body. He could barely move now, he willed his limbs to cooperate, but the blood loss was getting to him. Youko could only watch himself bleed dry. He could hear movement and shouts within the forest. They were disturbingly close to his position. Was this how he, the legendary bandit, Youko Kurama, feared King of Thieves, died? Was this where he'd meet his end?
No.
He couldn't – wouldn't accept that.
He refused to die so easily.
Youko's first thought was to reach out to Ayama, but he found his attempts at communication once again being ignored. His next idea was to try and get his arms to cooperate with him. But he was losing blood, he was cold and the current weather wasn't helping his situation. He could guess how he looked right now. He had seen death in all its forms so he had a pretty accurate idea in his mind. Blue lips, shivering limbs, pasty skin and bloody hands. Luck had apparently turned her back on him – already tired of his face. Not that he cared. He didn't need a faceless woman like that anyway.
His hands moved, barely. Even simply breathing was becoming a chore. But he wasn't about to give up. He wasn't about to sit here and die quietly - forgotten by all. He refused to become a mere tale used to scare children, an embellished legend spoken about in taverns. No. Never. He was going to build his empire and he'd be damned if a few irreparable organs stopped him. At the idea of his empire, thoughts of Kuronue entered his mind and Youko could practically hear the bat's voice.
'Damn, you're fucking wrecked,' -irrefutable words- 'never thought I'd see the day.'
"That's because you didn't," Youko weakly responded before he could stop himself. His retort pained him more than it should have. It was rare, but sometimes his snarky insults backfired. He just wished this wasn't one of those times. He could hear Kuronue's laugh, as if he were still beside him. As if this was just another sticky situation they had found themselves caught in.
'So, Youko, my man…' Youko had no doubt that if he were actually here Kuronue would have slung an arm around his shoulders. 'Do you plan on getting up anytime soon? Looking at your sorry state is even starting to make me feel bad.'
"If you feel bad then help me," Youko answered, his voice getting weaker with each word. He knew he was only talking to a figment of his imagination, but this was a hallucination he was happy to have. Luck had left him, but paradox had arrived in her place. "Close my wound."
'Nah, I'm good watching. Don't wanna get my hands all bloody. I just washed 'em.'
Youko smirked. "Damned bat."
'Do you want my help?'
"I want to stop hallucinating about a bat dangling false hope before my eyes like a by-the-book demon."
'No need to be so hostile,' Youko watched as Kuronue crouched before him. He looked blurry, a transparent figment of his mind that wasn't affected by the rain. Almost real enough to touch, but Youko didn't try to. He was afraid he'd suddenly disappear. Kuronue didn't touch him either, only tilted his head to the side, indicating toward something. Youko followed the movement and golden eyes widened at the sight.
There, he saw the vial Ayama had given him. Two tubes of blood and a soul sitting protectively in its case.
'I'll meet you back at the hideout, partner.'
The image of Kuronue faded back into the recesses of his mind where he belonged.
"Don't wait up," Youko muttered, smirking.
Youko willed his hands to move – to grab the vial.
Each movement made blood splurge from his gut because apparently, he still had so much to give. His hands were shaking so bad that the cases of Ayama's blood tapped noisily against the glass vial encasing the soul. Who did it belong to, he wondered. Because right now, a no name demon that Ayama had sacrificed for her experiments was his only company. Still, it was better than nothing. He gripped the glass so hard that it broke.
Youko threw the soul to the ground and it shattered noiselessly right over a puddle of his blood. Just another no name kill to add to his long list. Getting rid of evidence was a part of his job as a bandit. Besides, it's not like the soul was what was important anyway.
He stared at the two vials of blood in his hands.
She had given an extra as a precaution and he had never before felt so grateful for her cautious nature. Youko also had to thank his greedy side for not giving the soul to Hyoukoki at the first sign of danger like Ayama had asked him to. It wasn't the first time something unexpectedly good arose from his excessive greed. If only Ayama could see him now, she'd scoff at his sheer arrogance for even thinking such a thing.
He closed his eyes as he popped open the caps of the tubes, Ayama's words from decades ago echoing in his mind.
'But your plant allows us to share thoughts, perhaps if we fully mate… we might also be able to share abilities? Even just a fraction of them would be wonderful. My blood does seem to have a special quality just look at all my boys! If you drank more then…'
Well, he wasn't in the kind of situation where he could hesitate. He could hear the Hunters getting closer, closing in on his position. So, he threw back his head and downed both tubes. The sweet taste left a burning sensation down his throat and his nostrils flared, ears twitching as he was hit with a sudden rush of adrenaline. He waited for one anticlimactic moment, two, and then three.
Nothing happened.
Nothing fucking happened.
He didn't cry, he never would, but he might as well have been. His body was sore and mental exhaustion hung over him. Disappointment over something like this was an entirely new kind of low. One he swore he would never hit.
Youko's face twisted into a sinister smirk, before he threw his head back and gave a short bark of laughter. No humor to be found.
He heard the rush of footsteps closing in on his location which led him to believe that they had heard his bout of self-deprecation. Not like he cared. He could care less about their movements. All that mattered was this botched attempt at escape. What was he thinking would happen? That he'd be able to jumpstart another failed mating process without the woman in question around? Even that sounded absurd to his ears. That he'd be able to get a sliver of the powers her blood held and somehow be able to control them? Even if that did happen, how would he control it? Sure, she had told him the process once or twice before. He had seen her do it and he did have faith in his own genius. But believing he could do something and actually being able to do it were two totally different matt—.
Youko wheezed, gasping for air.
His teeth gnashed and grinded together.
An unknown force had knocked the wind right out of his lungs and he struggled for breath. His entire body erupted in waves of pain and lustful aches. He had felt this way before back when he and Ayama had almost mated... had drinking her blood actually triggered it? Had his hybrid seed they used for communication triggered another attempt to mate? He got his answer when his claws dug into the dirt as he let out heavy pants in search of the woman whose blood he had just swallowed down. His breathing was heavy and a burst of energy spread through him. But, no. This time it was different. Something felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest. A mass of thorns and an unbearable, sweltering heat.
He screamed in pain, crying out and almost abandoning his senses.
Mating wasn't supposed to be this painful.
Pain clouded any sense of lust he felt.
What was happening? Was this the result of another unfinished mating process? He kept shifting between his three forms. Fox, demon, humanoid. He tried to control it, but the more he did the more he felt like the hole in his stomach was slowly growing. Blood gushed out of him, but his heart continued to pump at three times its usual speed – more than compensating for his blood loss. His senses were hypersensitive and for some strange reason he saw everything through a soft haze. After a moment, he realized that the bloody area where he had carelessly thrown the useless soul to the ground was letting out a mist and his eyes widened at the sight.
Was he doing that?
Was his blood the reason for that mist?
"Gu… Gaaah!" He cried, gripping his head as he was assaulted by a pounding migraine that felt like someone was repeatedly bashing his head against a tree. If his thoughts could kill him then he'd let them. Nice and quick.
"We found him!" Youko heard a few voices. The mist that had somehow released itself from the soul mixing with his blood had rendered the Hunters blind, not deaf. They easily heard his pants and his pitiful attempts at silence. Though it seems that he didn't quite have the hang of this power yet, because the Hunters could still somewhat see him.
"Surround him!"
A moment later and they obeyed the order.
He was surrounded by three Hunters all about to blast him with spirit energy. Youko turned his attention to one of them, growling and giving him a fierce stare. He was either a newbie or Youko's face was just so frighteningly demonic because the man actually stumbled back and gave a blood curdling scream. A blue haired Hunter stepped up and shouted something at him. Youko could no longer hear their words, so focused on the pain and on the thought of just how his blood was able to release that damned mist. Had Ayama guessed correctly? Had they been able to establish some sort of deeper connection via his seeds inside them during this brief moment of failed mating? He wanted to contact Ayama, but his mind and body was so muddled with exhaustion and the searing ache of agony that he couldn't even shell out the amount of concentration required to contact her.
'Focus!' He mentally reprimanded. 'This is not the fucking time to think of useless shit!'
Youko closed his eyes. If he couldn't communicate with her then there was only one thing left to do. He tried to recall Ayama's words back during one of the times they had locked themselves in his greenhouse. Doing nothing but research, experiments and constantly banter.
'Youko,' her voice echoed. 'Stop looking at my tail and focus.'
'I'm just admiring the view, vixen. No need to get so offended.'
She ignored him. 'To move your soul, to move any soul, you need to imagine death.'
'Death?' He asked, dubiously, raising an eyebrow at the cliché.
'The feeling of it, the feeling of being on that precipice between living and dying,' she explained. 'Do that and you'll make miracles happen. The body tends to move better when that verge is engraved in your mind.'
'Is that all?' He muttered, actually surprised by the ease of it all. He lived on that precipice. Had been living on that fine line for the past four millennia. If all he had to do was think about death then it was almost too easy.
Ayama smirked. 'You're a smart fox. I have no doubt you'll succeed.'
'I see you've finally come to realize that I am—'
Youko's thoughts were interrupted.
"Kill him!" The blue haired Hunter said and Youko's eyes snapped open, making sure to get a good look at his face. He'd get his vengeance. Whether that was decades away or now didn't matter.
It was a promise.
The Hunters shot out quick blasts and while Youko was able to avoid two of them, one of the blasts had connected with his knee, bending his leg in a disgusting angle. Youko bit his lip to prevent screaming and he pushed away the pain he felt all over his body, boxing it up in the back of his mind and throwing away the key. He focused on himself. Trying to imagine his soul and what it looked like. The size, the glow, the chilling warmth. If he could have so many different forms then did that mean he could also have a soul form? There was no time to think about it, no time to hesitate, no time to wonder if this would even work. For once, he needed to forget about the smaller, less important details.
He had to put the skill and intelligence he always boasted about to use. Forget thinking. Mulling thoughts over was useless where natural impulse was concerned. He needed to do this before the pain from the failed mating process made him pass out, before the blood loss from his wounds finally caught up with him, before the Hunters turned his body to ash. The same Hunters that wasted no time, raising their hands once more for another shot.
It all happened in a matter of seconds.
They fired and yelled out a wish for his death.
But before the blasts could make contact, all the Hunters saw was Youko smirking in triumph. He laughed. Not the laughter he gave his enemies, or the sarcastic bitter chuckles he usually let loose. Just honest, happy relief.
At last, luck had finally returned to his side.
A boy stood there. Battered and rugged, but Ayama was able to recognize him immediately.
"Eriya?" Ayama called, running up to the boy and hugging him to her frame. He was looking down at the ground, beaten and bloody. He was missing his left ear and it looked to have been blown right off. A cloth stained with red covered it, acting as a temporary bandage. She didn't see his face but she knew it was him. She'd never confuse the twins with one another – no matter how bruised up they were. "What happened?!" She couldn't contain the frantic desperation in her voice. Didn't try to. "Why have you come back?! Where's Raizen? Where are your brothers? Are you okay?! Answer me!"
"O-Okaa-sama…?" Eriya looked up, tears in his eyes. No. Eye. His right eye was covered in so much blood that it fell over the rest of his body like paint.
Ayama stilled.
Not because of his injuries, not because of the desolate and completely forlorn look on his face, but because the eye that had looked back at her was not Eriya's. The way he called her was not the way Eriya called her. The stone cold calmness in his voice did not belong to the particular son that was supposed to inhabit this tiny body.
"T-Takoki…?" Ayama choked out his name. The disbelief was clear in her features and in her entire body. Her fists clenched not in fury, but in total astonishment. "Y-You're… Takoki, right?"
Tears spilled down his face and he hugged her tighter. "OKAA-SAMA!"
Ayama held him tighter, completely crushing him to her frame and soothing his small cries. He had Eriya's voice. "Shh…" Ayama whispered into his hair. "I'm here. You're alright now. Everything's going to be alright."
Those words weren't just to soothe him they were to reassure herself, as well. She needed to say them out loud – needed to hear them. Takoki had reverted back into a little boy and she held him against her as if he were her only lifeline keeping her in this world. If he let go then she felt as if she'd fall apart. She needed to be strong for someone right now. She needed to have a reason to keep her composure. If she lost it, she'd never get it back.
"Where are your brothers?" She asked.
Takoki sobbed even louder. "I-I-I…" Ayama didn't rush him. That wouldn't do any good. Instead, she waited for him to speak. Waited for his tears to die down. Unfortunately, they never did. "I FAILED! Raizen stumbled across our mist, but by then… by then… I had already faile…" his voice drifted into nothing.
She didn't need him to elaborate.
It was already painfully obvious.
"I… I couldn't even get Emiya's body!" Takoki continued to cry into her shoulder. His little body shook with each sob. He was in pain, physically and mentally and Ayama could do nothing but hold him.
"And Eriya…?" Ayama was almost afraid to ask.
"I can feel him…" He muttered, clutching her blood stained clothes in a vice grip. His claws dug into her skin, but she didn't care.
He stained her robes in even more red. Staining them with the blood of what was most likely the rest of her sons. Now she had all their blood on her hands. How much more did she need to lose today? How much more until those in Spirit World were satisfied, until she paid for the crime of tricking death, himself? In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to drag the higher echelons down to hell – to Demon World. But Takoki's voice was a saving grace. It kept her from focusing on hatred as he spoke once more. Broken and small.
"I can feel him, but he won't talk to me! I think he's sleeping! I hope he's sleeping!"
Ayama pulled away to look at his bloodied appearance. She shook him, trying to shake sense and reason back into his form. Back into the genius wolf that now resided in there. How Takoki was able to perform something this advanced not even she knew. She could only guess that Eriya had not rejected his presence – unlike in the experiments with the demons they had done before. Mental acceptance always seemed to be the main factor which was why Ayama had thought babies to be the answer. Babies wouldn't know any better, they were a blank slate. But the thought of family taking over another's body had completely slipped her mind. She just didn't think there would be a need to do so.
"How did you…?" Ayama let the sentence hang.
"I-I-I don't know!" Takoki sobbed, helplessly. "I wanted to save him, but my body wouldn't move. I just… I just wanted to save hi—"
Desperation was always a good catalyst.
But it looked bad on him – on anyone.
"Emiya's soul?" Ayama interrupted, frantically. She could get the gist of what happened and right now that was all that mattered. "Were you able to retrieve his soul?"
Takoki opened his fist.
In it sat another pure white soul.
Ayama would have sighed in relief had the soul not belonged to one of her precious sons. She reached out, about to take it. But Ayama folded in on herself, coughing out an insane amount of blood just as a burning, thorny sensation spread through her chest. A dull throbbing headache settled into her mind. Takoki was at her side in an instant, worriedly calling her name.
She wanted to push him away, wanted to scream, 'Don't you dare touch my blood! It's contaminated!'
But she couldn't find the will to. Ayama could barely see him through her glazed eyes, could barely hear him. His lips moved and that was it. She felt herself shifting and each time she shifted Takoki had to adjust her. Vixen, humanoid, demon. Claws and teeth elongating, before forcefully being shortened. Fur spreading throughout her body only to be replaced by human skin a moment later. It hurt. Being forced to continuously shift hurt beyond all reason, but her throat was itchy and hoarse, tasting of blood. She no longer had the will to even scream.
What now?
What in Raizen's name was happening now?
Ayama's eyes widened as she was cast into a world full of darkness. She moved, trying to look around and in the next moment a familiar figure stood before her against the gloom. A comforting presence. A shining light. The legendary bandit, himself.
'Youko…' She muttered, but her voice didn't only come from her mouth. It echoed throughout the darkness. Was this their shared conscience? What a dreary, boring place. Pitch black. Perhaps it represented the state of her own heart.
'Are you crying, Ayama?' He asked with that teasing smirk on his face. As if nothing was wrong, as if he owned the world. 'Don't cry. I don't know how to comfort you when you cry.'
'What are you doing here?!' He raised an eyebrow and she realized that she had shouted.
'I had the urge to see your face,' he muttered. 'I wanted to thank you for your wonderful research. If I had the chance I would have stolen your heart in gratitude.'
There was no bite in his words, only heartfelt thanks. So genuine that it made her want to scoff. It sounded strange on his tongue. 'Fool!' Ayama bit out through clenched teeth. 'Where are you now?! We need help! Is everything alright where you are?'
'Did you know,' he changed the subject, ignoring or just downright not caring about her obvious concern. 'The Oleander you gave me was dubbed the Desert Rose? Or that in love it meant caution – a beguiling seduction, if you will,' Youko shrugged. 'Of course you knew. The flower does suit you and the games we play, after all. But, vixen, though it represents us that particular flower is bad luck to bring into the bedroom. You giving it to me, was that an indication that you don't want me, perhaps? Or maybe it means you don't think we'd ever work? Seems that even now, I still have so many questions to ask.'
She narrowed her eyes at him. 'What are you going on abou—!'
He was fading.
'What's happening?' Ayama asked, scrutinizing him with wide eyes. This whole situation was ludicrous and for once, she didn't have the answers. 'Answer me, Youko!'
But even now, Youko was still Youko. He never followed orders. He bent down to kiss her, lingering and full of desire. She returned the kiss more out of instinct than anything. Something in her knew that Youko was someone she could trust, despite his womanizing attitude. His hands didn't roam, but they trembled with the want to, and Ayama wondered why he was holding back. Youko wasn't one to hold back. Especially not his desire. A slippery appendage invaded her mouth and he gave her tongue one last stroke, before finally pulling away.
With a little smirk, he shot her a triumphant stare and left her with vague words that had her mind reeling.
'Rest assured…' He said, slowly disappearing. 'I am alive.'
"What screws us up most in life is our picture in our head of how it is supposed to be."
- Socrates
A/N: Aaand that's a wrap. What? You want the sequel? No problems there.THE SEQUEL, SILVER LINING, IS OUT. I've also released exclusive Silver Lining Wordpress Specials!Check it out!The direct URL is on my profile. READ IN THIS ORDER: White Lies last chapter, Silver Lining WP Specials, Silver Lining first chapter.
I cannot thank my followers enough, this is a dead fandom and I know it doesn't receive a lot of attention nowadays, but I think this is one of my best stories and it's helped me grow as a writer. I hope to see you guys over in the sequel!
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Blob80 out.