Naraku's Phoenix: Ok, so, after much deliberation, I've decided to bump up the rating from 'T' to 'M'. While writing this I felt too close to the line to be comfortable so the rating change is means I'm being better safe than sorry. WARNING: this chapter contains rape in Bereznoff's section.
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Chapter 25: Traversing the Planes
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After an intensely vivid dream with his innermost desires, Nekozawa stretched his limbs and got ready for the day. He washed his face, brushed his teeth and hair, slipped on a loose tunic and a fresh pair of trousers, and downed a small loaf of bread with a cup of ale to get him going. Slipping on his field boots, Nekozawa leaned in the doorway and took a moment to appreciate the scenery outside. It was a tad chilly, but nothing too uncomfortable. The greenery of his land had dulled a few shades as it changed with the seasons. He yawned and finished rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Bereznoff's reprimanding lecture and confessions still rang fresh in Nekozawa's mind, and each sentence left a melancholy sting in in its wake.
'Why are you waiting on her like a foolish, common man?'
Nekozawa frowned. Was he really so common, now? Was advancing in age slowing him down and pushing aside his former ambitions? He wasn't getting work done like he used to.
'Since when did the Great Nekozawa stop taking what he wanted, when he wanted?'
The drive just wasn't there, anymore, or so he thought. The passion for his craft drizzled into…complacent routine. He had no family members to turn to, and he didn't get out to see his old friends, as much. If it weren't for Kaoru making regular visits, Nekozawa was sure to have morphed into a recluse hermit. It was a depression he didn't want to acknowledge, and the weight of it was even bogging Bereznoff down - making him restless. It was driving both of them mad. Yet, he was willing to perpetuate this existence and live quietly. With the kingdoms in peace there were less people interested in his services, and he almost didn't know what to do with so much time on his hands.
But then Haruhi crossed the line into his life. Uninvited, unexpected, and unbelievable. She charged into his barn in the dead of night, disheveled and panting with hair stuck to her skin and mud on her feet. In that fraction of time she looked chaotic, and it was overwhelmingly beautiful. At that moment, without question, he fell in love.
Funnily enough, though, until that specific meeting he hadn't had any genuine interest in her. He knew her name, and that her family supplied him with chickens, and while she was pretty enough he never gave her more than a passing thought or glance. Occasionally he enjoyed teasing Ryouji by pretending he was interested, but he never acted on his words. He smiled at the memory.
'How the tables have turned on that one,' he though.
Haruhi was still young, and he knew she still had some growing up to do, but he would do his best to be patient with her. He wanted to make her as happy as she was making him.
'...She's changed you, and I don't like it…I don't want her changing me, too.'
Bereznoff's last words suddenly clung to his insides. Though they've long since admitted the fact out loud, Nekozawa and Bereznoff were intertwined with one another. They felt each other's emotions, and they heard each other's thoughts; for example, when one felt anger, the other did, too. If there was a conflict of compassion from one, and loathing from the other, the two feelings would mesh and reach some sort of compromise. If the solution wasn't so simple as that, it was then a constant tug-of-war until one of them won. The fact that Bereznoff was starting to second guess his attitude toward Haruhi told Nekozawa that he was slowly influencing his specter. He felt they were making progress, and hopefully the approaching holiday would bring all three of them closer together.
Nekozawa beamed at the thought of his and Haruhi's trip. Maybe this change of pace would also rekindle a fire in him that his older self sorely missed, while at the same time strengthening his and Haruhi's budding relationship. With this last thought in mind, he took a deep breath and headed toward his shed. There was work to be done before they left.
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Meanwhile, with Bereznoff…
When Umehito awakens from his slumber at the start of each day, he leaves behind a world that he may or may remember - his dreamscape. He only gets to visit this world, but Bereznoff lives there. Every fear, every joy, every sorrow Nekozawa has ever felt gets locked away inside this plane of existence that was Bereznoff's home, and because of this Bereznoff knows Nekozawa better than he knows himself. The dreams people have do not vanish from existence, they are only forgotten. And Bereznoff's unique situation allowed him to revisit every dream his host has ever had. Each dream was a different playground for him to visit - a different world to conquer.
However, causing mischief and mayhem inside of a dream paled in comparison to experiencing the world, first-hand, with all five senses. Being able to exchange places with Nekozawa was a bittersweet gift he wouldn't trade for the world. He just wished the experience lasted more than twelve hours at a time.
Nekozawa's dreams used to be filled with wild, unexplored territories with memories of curses and killing. Bereznoff was complacent, there, but when Haruhi entered their lives there was a noticeable shift in the contents of his home. Images of her started crowding the dreamscape that was once Bereznoff's solitude. This quickly became an annoyance. At first, Bereznoff redirected his aggression by attacking her images and would attempt to show Nekozawa the different ways in which he could kill her, but more than often those nightmares were pushed away and forgotten the moment he woke up. Since this didn't elicit much of a response from his host, Bereznoff grew bored with this approach.
Next, Bereznoff attempted to talk to each dream Haruhi he encountered. This didn't help him, much, as he wasn't actually talking to the girl, herself, but instead a projected image reflecting only what Nekozawa knew or interpreted about her. That too, grew boring, and Bereznoff would usually end their conversations by viciously strangling Haruhi and forcing himself upon her corpse when she stopped moving.
The dreamscape that was Bereznoff's home was an infinite plane clotted with spheres of smoke. The path between these spheres was pearly white oblivion, and inside each sphere was a different world with a different memory and a different dream. Bereznoff would phase between them at his will, and very rarely did he stumble into the same world twice. Today, as he casually strolled down his road made of light, Bereznoff took a sharp turn into a new puff of smoke, eager to see what waited for him within.
The dream he found himself in had a purple hue. The ground was dry and the infrastructure was reduced to rubble. Looking around, he continued walking until he found what he was looking for: Haruhi. She was sitting atop a small boulder trying to brush tangles out of her hair. He casually approached her from behind and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Hello, dear kitten," he greeted, "Might I interest you in a cup of tea, or a nice dagger for your chest; or, perhaps you would like to bed me, first?"
"Where is home?" she asked, "I don't like it, here."
'Ah,' thought Bereznoff, 'This Haruhi must be rejection.'
Haruhi continued, "I should have never left my home. Mother might have survived on her own. I'll regret my decision for the rest of my life. I could've had a husband, by now, and my own little baby on the way."
"Is that so?" Bereznoff yawned.
"I hate it, here," said Haruhi, "I hate him. I hate you."
Bereznoff removed his hand from her shoulder, and gazed at the back of her head as if contemplating his next move. Without warning, he cocked up his leg and kicked Haruhi square between the shoulders, knocking her off her seat and onto the harsh ground. She coughed when she fell and Bereznoff moved forward and kicked her, again, this time in her ribs, forcing her on her back. She coughed again, this time producing blood and mucous. He then yanked her to her feet where they locked eyes and he glared at her glossy expression. With one hand he firmly grasped his fingers around her throat, and with the other he unsheathed the dagger in his boot and held the point just above her heart.
"Kill me," she gurgled.
Bereznoff frowned. None of the Haruhis he encountered, before, had ever expressed the desire to die. He was so perplexed by this development that he was startled when this Haruhi weakly wrapped her fingers around his hand that held the dagger and pulled it down so the point was over her lower abdomen.
"I'd rather welcome death into my womb, before you," she said, "Please, kill me. Hurt me. End my suffering."
"But, my dear, we've only just begun," replied Bereznoff with a mischievous grin. Yanking out of her meager grip, he tossed his dagger aside and jerked her face closer to his. He forces her to look him in the eye and says, "I can't very well just give you what you want, you know? That's not my style. If to suffer is your greatest pleasure, then to be pleasured is your greatest suffering." With that, Bereznoff forced Haruhi to the ground, bunched up her skirts and sunk his hand beneath them. Her aching screams of protest only excited him.
With a defeated Haruhi now collapsed at his side. Bereznoff rose and redressed himself. He slipped the previously discarded dagger into his boot and walked back over to inspect his deeds. He was more relaxed, now, and if this dream Haruhi was any indication of how the real Haruhi would be in bed, his host would be most satisfied. Bereznoff nudged dream Haruhi with the tip of his boot, and was pleased with the vacant look present in her eyes. She was curled up on the ground clutching the remnants of her tattered dress. Bereznoff looked her over, top to bottom, admiring the nicks and bruises he left behind. He knelt down and tilted her head to the side so he could look at her, face-to-face, once more. Her eyes were red and her cheeks tear-stained.
"I'll be back to visit you, again," he said.
"Kill…me…" she begged.
"In due time," he replied. And with that, he exited her sphere of smoke and reentered the glowing walkway. Bereznoff wasted no time in looking for his next destination. A flicker of light caught his attention, two layers over. Intrigued, he approached the new sphere and stepped inside.
He was caught off-guard, immediately.
As soon as Bereznoff entered this sphere, he was hit with a wave of scorching heat. Everything around him was orange and ablaze. Cottages were little more than charred sketches, the roads were cracked and broken, people were fleeing and crying, and a few bodies were scattered about. Too absorbed in his new surroundings, he gasped when what felt like a grappling hook had pierced through his chest and dug into his back. The mysterious force that latched on propelled his body toward the center of the sphere. He came to a halt and was slammed into the ground beneath him. Shakily he picked himself up and felt all the color drain from his face when he saw what stood before him.
Atop a small hill, there were three dark, human-like figures, whose shoulders and heads were on fire, standing side-by-side - their eyes soulless lumps of coal. Each figure held a different artifact. The one on the left had a sword. The one in the center had a staff. And the one on the right had a book. Bereznoff tried to look around them for more clues. Through the cracks in this dreamscape's walls he saw visions of the sphere next door where the flames had spread from this realm to the next. A group of booming voices snapped him back to attention.
"WE ARE THE JUDGES OF THE IMMORTAL, BOUND IN MORTAL FLESH. WHEN WE COME TOGETHER, YOUR HEART WILL BE WEIGHED."
For as long as he had been alive, Bereznoff had forgotten what fear felt like. True fear. He tried to sound brave and brush them off.
"Then charge forth, heathens! I'm waiting!"
The figures' coal eyes bore down upon him. Each one of them lifted their free arm and pushed the air in front of them. Bereznoff was slingshot through the air and was expelled from their dreamscape sphere. He landed, harshly, in a neighboring sphere, the contents of which were in drastic contrast from the place he just left.
He was met with the sight of a cozy cabin and a grassy field on a sunny day.
"Darling, are you ok?" a sweet voiced asked, penetrating the air and striking Bereznoff against his clammy skin. He looked behind him and saw a housewife version of Haruhi. Bereznoff looked at her, but did not reply. He didn't even have the motivation to roll his eyes and sneer. His mind was racing with what just happened. He didn't quite know how to process everything. He needed to get out - he urgently needed Umehito to switch places with him so he could calm down, but he couldn't make his legs move.
Then, without saying a word or objecting to what happened, next, he allowed this version of Haruhi to help him to his feet and guide him to a bed inside the cabin. Haruhi helped him out of his boots and shirt, and afterward she disrobed herself down to a slip. She tucked the two of them beneath the covers, and cuddled his side, smiling.
"I'll keep you warm," she said, "Now, rest."
A nap was the last thing on Bereznoff's mind. He ignored dream Haruhi and stared at the ceiling. He could feel her heartbeat slow and her breathing deepen, the warmth of her body against his, and the soft skin of her arm resting across his stomach. Bereznoff made no action to move away, and felt as if his chest would explode from anxiety and adrenaline.
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Meanwhile, with Haruhi...
Feeling flush and out of breath, Haruhi plucked the last green beans from the vine in Nekozawa's garden. She set the basket aside and exchanged it for a small wine sack she filled with water. Sitting back on the soft earth, she uncorked her drink and consumed it until the sack was almost emptied. Suddenly, she had a flashback.
Haruhi was about five years old. Her feet couldn't yet reach the floor, but here she was sitting in a chair, next to her mother, Kotoko, snapping green beans in the kitchen.
Kotoko was beaming.
"I hope, one day, you have a little girl to snap green beans with," she said.
"Boys can snap green beans, too," retorted Haruhi. Her mother laughed.
"Yes, they can," agreed Kotoko, "but there's just something extra special about a bond between a mother and her daughter that a son can't give. Mommies and their little girls will always be close with each other, and I want that for you."
"Ok, mommy."
"I love you, Haruhi."
"I love you, too, mom," whispered Haruhi. Coming out of her memory Haruhi gasped, jarred by her surroundings. She felt her nose running and sniffed until she could grab her apron and clear her sinuses. She ran her sleeve across her face, rapidly wiping away the silent tears she hadn't realized were there. Feelings and emotions she was trying to conceal from herself suddenly burst forth. Her stomach was in knots and a heavy weight came crashing down on her soul.
She would never see her family, again.
Her mother would never get to see her grandchildren.
Her baby brother would grow up never knowing his sister.
Her family and everyone she knew would die and whither away without her ever knowing.
And as much leeway Nekozawa had given her, Haruhi knew her free will was an illusion. It was only a matter of time before he forced his way into her bed, and that terrified her. Any attraction she'd felt toward him was superficial, and she knew that. But where else could she go?
She would be with him until death.
Haruhi broke down, crumpled into a heap next to the garden, and wept.
She cried until there was nothing left inside of her. She would keep her word and stay with Nekozawa, of course, but that didn't mean she couldn't lament over the weight of the consequences that her decision created. She was human, and she was allowed to mourn.
She wondered if she was acting foolishly. Did she need to feign happiness when it wasn't there? Yes. How far would she go to preserve her own life? Would she need to solidify a more intimate and physical relationship? Would she be able to love any children they had? Would she be able to love him? Possibly. Where Nekozawa was concerned, a little part in the back of Haruhi's mind said she was in control; but, there was still one hurdle she didn't think she could jump: Bereznoff. Maybe she could talk to him about the things she wouldn't talk to Nekozawa about. Maybe. Haruhi closed her eyes and took deep breaths. The sooner she fully acknowledged and accepted her new life, the sooner she could overcome her self-pity.
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Meanwhile, with Kaoru…
Carefully, Kaoru unrolled the parchment on Kyoya's desk and flattened it with paperweights. He read:
~o~
FOR: His Supreme Majesty and protector of the people, King Yuzuru, and the Ouran Royal Council
FROM: Isao Sonoda, Elder of Commerce and Chancellor of Nochi Village in the Western Kingdom
I am writing our majesty most humbly to request that his court may send a wizard or another trusted magick user to come to our aid. Our home has been plagued with a rot too ingrown to simply cut out or ignore. My people are frightened. Girls are disappearing from their beds. One of our men has been struck with retardation. We suspect an ailment of peculiar origins, and we put our full faith in trust in our Majesty, the King, to staunch the malevolence that has blackened his borders. Long may he reign.
~o~
Slowly, Kaoru re-rolled the parchment and handed it back to Kyoya. He stared at him in awe and confusion.
"Interesting, yes?" said Kyoya, "When was the last time you encountered an ailment of…peculiar origins?"
"It's not an ailment," replied Kaoru, understanding the message within the message, "It's a curse."
"So you understand, now, why I need you for this particular visit?"
Kaoru nodded, but then frowned.
"Your troop is leaving in one week? What about the harvest festival? Would we be back in time?"
"Surely a threat to our king's people is more important than a party?" said Kyoya.
Kaoru averted eye contact and felt a sprinkle of guilt in his gut.
"Of course," he said, "I would never turn a blind eye to such a risk, nor would I ever turn my back on our kingdom."
"Excellent," said Kyoya, "Now, I cannot send my men for another week due to other obligations, but if you're up for it, you and I may leave at dawn. I know how important the festival is to you, and I'll do my best to not keep you from it."
Kaoru did a double take and looked at Kyoya with some surprise. Kyoya continued speaking.
"Besides, if the cause for this village's woes is indeed one of magick, it would be wise to consult your peers after gathering all of the information."
'Ah, there it is,' thought Kaoru, relaxing his face, 'Kyoya wouldn't offer a gesture of kindness if it wasn't practical.' The Harvest Festival was the only guaranteed occasion where practitioners of magick across the country would gather together in one place. It was a reunion of sorts, especially for the older wizards, and it was a setting where he felt comfortable. In their company, Kaoru wasn't just "the King's White Wizard" or "Magician of the Royal Court," he was just a man kicking back and having a few drinks with friends.
Kaoru scratched the back of his head and nodded in understanding. "I'll have my things packed, tonight," he said.
"See you at dawn, then," said Kyoya, and he escorted his wizard friend out the door.
That night, Kaoru was lying awake in bed with Renge cuddled up next to him, her arm slung over his naked chest. He had told her about his sudden trip and wanted her one more time before he left.
"Do you know when you'll be back?" she asked.
"Most likely before the festival," he replied, "The only reason I'm leaving tomorrow is so I could be back in time to attend."
"Mm," she murmured. There was a moment of silence, and then, "Well, at least you're going with Kyoya. He won't let you get sidetracked."
"Sidetracked?"
"Mhmm. I've been hearing rumors that you took a detour on your last trip to somewhere you aren't supposed to."
"Oh? And where did these rumors say I was going?"
Renge chuckled, "To bed the finest prostitutes this side of the river."
Kaoru snickered at her joke. "As if I could afford them," he said.
"But really," Renge sighed, "I overheard that you visited Him…the Black Cat." At these words, the air suddenly turned tense.
Kaoru let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Well…that is true," he confessed. Renge shifted slightly to look him in the eye.
"Why would you do such a thing? Isn't he dangerous?"
"Only if you piss him off," said Kaoru, "but he's been fairly docile these past several years; or, at least as long as I've known him. If you take away his curses, he's just like any other wizard you'd meet. He doesn't only practice the dark arts, either. Just because something is your specialty doesn't mean that subject is all you know. Like most of us, he probably sells medicine and potions and charms to get by."
"Well, when you put it like that, he doesn't sound as scary as people make him out to be."
Kaoru smiled. "Indeed. Believe it or not…"
"So when you say 'potions,'" Renge prodded, "You mean like potions for aging or strength or…love?"
Kaoru raised his brow and looked at Renge suspiciously. "Yes…why?"
Quickly Renge turned playful.
"Do you think he has a love potion for me to keep you all to myself?"
"Perhaps," he said, "but you'll never get it," Kaoru smirked. He suddenly swooped his leg around to position himself above Renge, and he attacked her one more time before falling asleep.
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Naraku's Phoenix: OMG, IT'S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I'VE BEEN HERE! Really, I'm ecstatic to get back on the writing train. My apologies for the long wait. I've been doing that adulting thing. I'm back in school, again, and I don't know when the next chapter will go up, or when I'll even have time to write it. I've got a rough outline to follow, though, if that's any consolation. As always, thank you for reading, and reviews are appreciated. Your support makes me a better writer, and I feel like I've drastically improved compared to the first half of the story. See you, next time.