Chapter 29 The Storm and the Flood
Flow to the sea.
You know where to go.
But still we are free.
No one tells the wind which way to blow.
Dawning is the Day
Justin Hayward
Ikkaku was awake long before he opened his eyes.
He was still in pain, but it was not severe. Considering how badly he'd felt earlier, he was surprised that he was not worse off. He was prone to believe that his own state of physical excellence that had allowed him to recover so quickly; but this time he wasn't so sure.
After what he had seen on the river, he had to consider there were other possibilities.
But no matter the reason, one indisputable fact pounded at his battered senses.
Yumichika had saved his life.
Yumichika!
Delicate, non-violent Yumichika.
And he'd done it like a man – with brute force. And with a weapon that had seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
Against a hollow.
Ikkaku would have felt humiliated were he not so fascinated.
He had many questions, and now he wanted answers.
He opened his eyes. It was dark out, but Yumichika had managed to make a fire. Its heat was enough to keep Ikkaku warm in his scant, torn kosode; but it took him only a moment to realize that it wasn't just the fire keeping him warm.
He turned his head away from the heat.
Yumichika was lying beside him, close but not pressing, regarding him with a gentle expression.
"You couldn't clean yourself up while I was sleeping?" Ikkaku said, half serious and half joking.
Yumichika smiled. "I haven't had time. Am I that revolting?"
"Just a little." Ikkaku groaned as he rolled onto his side to face him.
"Don't hurt yourself," Yumichika cautioned.
"Too late," Ikkaku replied. He stared into Yumichika's eyes for several seconds, as if he might see something there that would explain everything that had happened. "You okay?"
Yumichika nodded. "I got a little banged up, but I'm fine."
It was only a partial truth. While physically he had come through events fairly well, the aftermath had been disastrous for him mentally and emotionally. His meeting with Ruri'iro Kujaku had been painful and dispiriting; and now he found himself in the unlikely position of looking to Ikkaku and hoping for something less contentious than what he'd been through with his zanpakuto. It was a complete reversal of what he'd usually done – retreating to Ruri'iro Kujaku when dealing with Ikkaku became too difficult.
"You ready to tell me what happened?" Ikkaku asked pointedly.
"What do you mean?"
"I saw the weapon you were using," Ikkaku replied. "It wasn't your sword. "
Yumichika was not sure how to answer. He'd certainly had time to think about how to address the matter, but instead he'd been so distressed over Ruri'iro Kujaku that he'd thought of nothing else since.
"Yumichika?" Ikkaku's voice recalled his attention.
"You won't believe me," Yumichika sighed.
"Maybe not, but let's hear it."
Yumichika took a deep breath. He could take his first step towards making amends with Ruri'iro Kujaku. It might be a small step, but it would be a beginning; and Yumichika needed to start somewhere.
After a long hesitation, he replied, "He's my zanpakuto."
"Your . . . zanpakuto?"
"Yes."
"You're telling me you have a zanpakuto."
"Yes."
"That—that . . . that's impossible."
"You saw it with your own eyes," Yumichika replied. "I can show you again, if you don't believe me."
"But . . . how would—why would you have a zanpakuto?" Ikkaku was incredulous.
"I don't know," Yumichika answered, sitting up. "I just do."
Ikkaku could now see past him to where the sword lay on the ground at his side.
"Is that—is that it?"
"His name is Fuji Kujaku." How easily that lie had rolled off his tongue. He reached over and picked up the weapon. Another long pause as he gathered his courage. "All this time that you've wondered who trained me, who healed me . . . it wasn't a hollow. It was him."
This was too much for Ikkaku to get his head around. He got to his feet in agitation, finding himself still shaky after the ordeal in the river. But any unsteadiness was minor compared to the disbelief and bewilderment he was feeling.
Yumichika had a zanpakuto . . .
No, it was absolutely impossible. A soul as passive and docile as Yumichika could not bring forth a zanpakuto. And the thing Yumichika had been carrying at his waist all these years had come from a passing vendor! There was no way it could be a zanpakuto!
Try as he might, Ikkaku could not convince himself of his words. He'd been so married to the idea of Yumichika's odd powers emanating from a hollow that he was not ready or willing to abandon the idea. Not without a fight, at least.
"Show me," he demanded in a voice much more restrained than his swirling emotions.
Yumichika stood up and drew the sword from its scabbard. He held it out at arm's length.
"Sake, Fuji Kujaku."
A flash of light accompanied the splitting of the blade, and then Ikkaku found himself staring in astonishment.
"That's it . . . that's what I saw on the river," he said in a near-whisper. He took an unconscious couple steps forward, reaching out his hand to touch it, but then drawing back, feeling both a sense of his own revulsion towards the weapon and a peculiar impression of aversion directed back at him.
"He's very temperamental," Yumichika explained, adding after several seconds. "And possessive."
"Possessive?"
"He likes to have me all to himself," Yumichika replied. "He's been that way since the beginning."
"When—when was the beginning?" Ikkaku asked.
A small glint of nostalgic fondness came into Yumichika's expression. "It's funny. I first heard his voice the night after I met you."
"The night after . . . you mean back in Mito?" Ikkaku was perplexed. "But . . . you didn't have that sword until Venla. Damn, Yumichika, you wouldn't even touch a sword the whole time we were in Mito."
"That's true," Yumichika agreed. "I didn't have a sword, and I didn't want one. But that night, I heard his voice for the first time. I didn't know who he was. I didn't know what he was, and I was a little scared. Don't you remember that morning? I was withdrawn, and you got angry with me."
"I remember."
"Well, Fuji Kujaku told me later that something about your arrival is what had prompted me to awaken him." He looked at the fan of blades in his hand. "Return, Fuji Kujaku." The sword assumed its original shape. "But at that point, he was only a voice inside me. I learned to enter my inner world, and finally one day, he took on a spirit form. I could actually see him." He paused. Speaking of Ruri'iro Kujaku in such a way had the effect of making Yumichika realize just how much affection he had for his zanpakuto. "He's the one who healed me. You remember when all those bruises vanished, and you wanted to know how it happened? It was him." He swallowed down a hurtful memory. "He's also the one who saved my life after the attack. I wanted to die. I was ready to give in, but he wouldn't let me. He used his own power to save me, and he almost died doing it."
Ikkaku listened in rapt attention, growing more astounded with each word. When Yumichika paused in his explanation, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep it a secret?"
"Because I wasn't sure how you'd feel," Yumichika replied. "I was afraid you'd be jealous, and it would ruin our friendship. And Fuji Kujaku is so unpredictable, I was afraid to use him in front of you."
Ikkaku was thoughtful for a long time. "It does make me jealous," he admitted at last, turning towards the fire, his face glowing orange in the glow of the embers. "Who would have thought that little, demur Yumichika Ayasegawa would secretly be the master of a zanpakuto all this time?" He drew in a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. "But after what I saw today, how can I not believe you? You defeated a hollow. And you did it with that weapon you're holding." He looked back at him. "You're powerful, Yumichika. All that time I devoted to protecting you, you never really needed me at all, did you?"
"Of course, I did," Yumichika protested. "There was never a time when I didn't need you – including right now." At Ikkaku's doubtful look, he elaborated. "It's taken me years to learn how to use Fuji Kujaku, and even now, I still don't know what I'm doing half the time. He's not easy to control, and like I said, he—he has a mind of his own."
"You seemed to have control of him against that hollow," Ikkaku pointed out.
If only Ikkaku knew the other side of the story: the side Yumichika could not divulge.
"It may have seemed that way; but believe me, left to his own decisions, he would have done things very differently, and probably more effectively," Yumichika replied.
"Looked pretty effective to me," Ikkaku stated. "So, was it also him who killed those four men at the quarry?"
This was going to require some finesse. "Yes," Yumichika replied, awaiting the next question.
"But those men didn't have a single mark on them. There wasn't a drop of blood," Ikkaku said. "Down on the river, there was blood everywhere – from your weapon."
Here was the test of Yumichika's ability to deceive, for he was not going to divulge Ruri'iro Kujaku's true power of draining an opponent's spirit energy. Ikkaku was handling the revelation of the zanpakuto well enough. But to expose the kido nature of that zanpakuto would be pushing too far. "You—you remember what I did to you in Guckoo the night I found you?"
A cold neutrality etched its way across Ikkaku's face. "Yes," he replied with the heaviness of a stone.
"If my reiatsu was strong enough to do that to you, you can imagine how strong Fuji Kujaku's reiatsu is," Yumichika said. "He doesn't have to fight in his physical form as a sword. He can just unleash his reiatsu and crush the enemy."
Ikkaku stared speechless for a moment, then asked, "So, he killed those men just with his spirit energy."
Yumichika nodded.
"Why didn't he do that against the hollow?" Ikkaku asked.
"I don't know," Yumichika replied, preparing another lie. "Maybe because it's more difficult against a hollow. Maybe he just wanted to fight. Like I said, he's very unpredictable and moody. Right now, he won't even talk to me, he's so angry at me."
"Why's he angry?"
Yumichika was dismissive. "I guess because I didn't do things the way he wanted. He's pretty spoiled." Inside, he felt horrible. What had started out as an earnest effort to ease Ruri'iro Kujaku's existence out into the open had degenerated into one lie after another. And although Yumichika was blocking his zanpakuto from seeing and hearing the conversation, he knew Ruri'iro Kujaku could circumvent those barriers without his knowledge. If the peacock found out what his master was saying right now, there would be hell to pay.
Ikkaku stared at Yumichika for a long, scrutinizing moment. At last, he asked in a serious voice, "Are you telling me the truth? Is that thing really a zanpakuto?"
"Yes, he is," Yumichika replied. "I'm sorry I kept him hidden from you."
"So am I," Ikkaku said. He settled down on the opposite side of the fire. This was a lot of information to take in – some of it shocking and distressing. He needed time to think about and absorb everything Yumichika had just told him. It was time to end the conversation for now, before he became too overwhelmed. "You get some sleep. I'll take watch."
Before lying back down, Yumichika asked, "So, now that you know about Fuji Kujaku, do you—will you still keep me with you?"
"I don't know. You sure as hell don't need me to protect you after what I saw today. I don't think you need anyone to protect you," Ikkaku grumbled.
"Ikkaku, I've never wanted to be around you for protection," Yumichika asserted. "I've stayed around because—"
"Don't say it, Yumichika," Ikkaku cut him off. "I know why you stay around. Just . . . let it go. Go to sleep. "
Yumichika closed his eyes onto troubled thoughts. But he had nowhere to turn. For certain, he could not go to Ruri'iro Kujaku. Not until the flames had died down. Not until he figured out how to approach the injured bird.
Not until he knew what he was going in his own mind.
How dull everything was. Not even here in the cave of the peacocks could he find anything to allay his sadness. He had lost his master. Could anything possibly ease his suffering after such a blow? Years of guiding, protecting, and chastening had come to nothing. All his longing could not breach the shame Yumichika felt towards him. All the love in the universe could not win him the place of pride in his master's heart.
Ruri'iro Kujaku had never felt so miserable. Yumichika had blocked him ever since their last meeting, and it was only the kujaku's bout with hopelessness that kept him from overpowering his master's defenses. Flexing his ability seemed pointless now. If Yumichika did not want him present in his thoughts, so be it. If he did not want him having access to the outside world anymore . . .
The reikon sighed. "So be it."
He could not even fool himself. Without the companionship of his master, his existence had no meaning.
A few hours ago, he'd been forced to release once again to the horrid name his master had now assigned to him. He wasn't sure why he'd been released. Yumichika hadn't used him for anything. And the flustered peacock had been too frayed to pay any attention to what had been going on. How he loathed that name, and the fact that his master had used it again – for no other purpose, it seemed, than to taunt him . . . why had things gone so badly?
"There you are, flashy."
Ruri'iro recognized the voice instantly. Looking up, he saw in one of the mirrors nearby, the image of Ikkaku's zanpakuto.
"Hoozukimaru," he said, feeling a sense of relief to be drawn out of such maudlin thoughts. He swept over to the mirror in one lackluster movement.
"Been a while," Hoozukimaru stated. "I thought you were going to come back sooner than this."
"I tried," Ruri'iro insisted. "I tried, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't figure it out. I don't even know how it's happening right now."
He saw Hoozukimaru staring at him perceptively, and it forced the red into his cheeks. He looked down. It was the first time he could ever recall feeling embarrassed.
"You look like something's bothering you," Hoozukimaru said bluntly. "What's wrong?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku sighed heavily and waited several seconds before answering. "My master."
"He piss you off?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku wasn't even sure what that meant. "Piss me off?"
"He made you mad? He did something stupid, and now you're pissed off."
"What an ugly expression—"
"Yeah, yeah. But am I right?"
The peacock frowned. "I'm not angry – well, maybe a little. I'm sad." A pause, then he admitted, "I'm more than sad. I'm—I'm devastated. We had a very bad fight."
"Is this cause of what your master told mine?"
A questioning look came into Ruri'iro face. "What did he tell him?"
"That you're possessive and spoiled," Hoozukimaru replied.
Ruri'iro was perplexed. "Are you—are you talking about what happened on the river? During the fight with the hollow?"
"No, although I have to admit, what little I saw of it was pretty damned impressive. Most of the time, my master was only half-conscious, so I didn't get to see much. But I did see your release. You know, I figured it would have been more kido—"
"That wasn't my full release," Ruri'iro Kujaku cut him off. "But when did my master tell Madarame that I was possessive and spoiled?"
"Just a little while ago . . . around the fire." Hoozukimaru could tell from the expression on the kujaku's face that he'd hit on something. "You—you didn't know?"
"My master's been blocking me," Ruri'iro replied. "I—there was a brief moment when he released me there at the fire, but I don't know why."
"You didn't happen to notice that my master was standing there?"
"I—I guess I was so angry, I didn't see," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied. "But that doesn't matter. Are you saying that my master told Madarame about me?"
"He told him you were a zanpakuto," Hoozukimaru replied, adding with a puzzled voice, "But he called you Fuji Kujaku. I thought your name was Ruri'iro Kujaku."
Ruri'iro Kujaku did not answer. He could not figure out what to make of what he'd just head. At last, he asked anxiously, "What else did he say?"
"He said you were hard to control and that you're mad at him right now." A pause. "Oh, and that you can crush other souls with your reiatsu."
"He didn't tell him that my power is kido-based?"
"Not that I heard."
Ruri'rio Kujaku considered. The fact his master had revealed his existence was good news, even if he'd withheld the entire truth. It was one step along the way. Maybe it meant his master had realized, after their last meeting, how unfair he'd been, how reckless with his own life.
Maybe all hope wasn't lost.
"What was Madarame's reaction?" he asked.
"A lot more than he showed, I'll tell you that," Hoozukimaru replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Hoo! My master is jealous, envious, bitter . . . take your pick. He considers himself a good fighter, so being rescued by your master was embarrassing enough; but when your master told him about you . . . he actually felt insulted, as if he should be the one to have a zanpakuto. Funny, huh? Cause he does have one, but the idiot is too busy running and hiding from his past to even recognize my voice." He shook his head. "Anyway, he admitted he was jealous, but he kind of played it off. "
Ruri'iro Kujaku was still astonished. "I can't believe he told him."
"Why? That's the big deal?"
Ruri'iro looked into the small, close-set eyes. He could trust this being. "Your master hates kido, am I right?"
"Yeah. Hates everything about it. He thinks it's a cowardly way of fighting."
"And my power is kido—"
"What is your power, exactly? I mean, I can tell you're a kido-based zanpakuto, but what is your power?" Hoozukimaru asked curiously.
"I can drain others of their reiatsu," came the proud response.
The face in the mirror looked back with an expression of doubtful incredulity. "What?"
"I can drain others of their reiatsu," Ruri'iro Kujaku repeated, assuming an air of affected nonchalance.
"Other . . . souls?"
"I would imagine anything that has reiatsu would be vulnerable," Ruri'iro answered.
"So, living creatures?"
"Probably."
"Hollows?"
"Probably."
Hoozukimaru narrowed his eyes and changed the inflection of his voice. "Zanpakutos?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku shrugged. "I would think so."
"Whoo! That's a nasty ability, my friend," Hoozukimaru said appreciatively.
"Yes, well, at the rate my master is going, you'll never get to see it," the peacock pouted. "He's only used it twice, and neither time in front of Madarame. He won't use it in front of him. He's afraid Madarame will be so disgusted that he won't want anything to do with him anymore."
"Well, he's probably right," Hoozukimaru confirmed. "My master does hate kido."
"What about you? Do you hate it?"
"Eh, it doesn't really interest me, 'cause it forms no part of my power. But I don't hate it."
"You don't think kido is a shameful way to fight?"
"Tsk! The only thing that's shameful is that your kido could probably defeat me outright without me even having a chance," Hoozukimaru replied.
This statement, whether accurate or not, pleased Ruri'iro Kujaku. "Maybe you could convince your master that it's an honorable way to fight."
"Ha! My master doesn't even know I exist! Right now, I couldn't even convince him to wash his face!"
Ruri'iro Kujaku laughed. How good it felt to smile after the pain of the last few hours. "Don't feel bad about that. I think the only one who could manage that kind of miracle is my master. Hygiene has never been at the top of Madarame's list." He cocked his head to one side. "So . . . if zanpakutos are born of their masters' souls, are you as slovenly as Madarame?"
"More so."
"Don't even joke about that!" Ruri'iro chastised. "If you can accept kido when Madarame can't, then you can keep yourself beautiful even though Madarame doesn't."
"Beautiful? Unh! What interest do I have in beauty? You're pretty enough for all creation to admire. I'll stick with my strengths," came the jaunty reply.
"And those are?"
"Sleeping. And when the time comes, fighting."
"Sleeping! How can sleeping be considered a strength!"
"Because I do it better than anyone else."
Ruri'iro Kujaku felt the spark of affection flare in his chest. His mind was overflowing with questions regarding his newest acquaintance. After a brief pause, he asked, "What does your world look like?"
"Hmmm . . . " In the mirror, Hoozukimaru looked around. "It's a jungle mostly. In the center is a volcano, and I have a lair underneath it." He looked up. "The sky is . . . the color of those vines I see in your world."
"You—there's a sky?"
"Yeah. It stretches as far as I can see. No limits. No boundaries. If I wander through the jungle, I never come to an end," Hoozukimaru replied.
"Are there—are there different landscapes or is it all jungle?"
"All jungle, far as I can tell. My master's a pretty simple guy."
"No limits . . . " Ruri'iro Kujaku whispered.
"Why? What's it like in your world?"
"Oh—there are many places, each one very different than the others." A grin. "You see, my master is not simple. He's complicated. Too complicated, sometimes."
"So I've seen," Hoozukimaru interjected. "That's why I like him."
"You like my master?"
"I've said so."
Ruri'iro Kujaku was thoughtful. "Each place in my master's inner world has boundaries, even though they shift from time to time. I never thought about that until now. You said you have no boundaries in your world, but in mine, each aspect of my master's being only goes so far, and then comes the boundary, and I pass into some other part of him." A pause. "And the places where I can't go at all . . . the parts of him that he doesn't want to share with me . . . are there such places in your world?"
Hoozukimaru shrugged. "Maybe."
"Don't you wonder about it?"
"You think too much," Hoozukimaru criticized with a chuckle.
"Now, you really sound like Madarame," Ruri'iro accused playfully. He sat back on his heels and drew the mirror down to his level. "So, tell me more about your world."
Yumichika sat up at the sound of thunder. It seemed the storm he had seen earlier that day on river had slowly followed him and Ikkaku downstream and was not far from breaking over their heads. The bamboo copse was not going to provide any substantive means of shelter.
He looked across the fading embers to where Ikkaku was supposed to be keeping watch.
He was sleeping.
"Ikkaku?"
Ikkaku continued right on sleeping, his snoring loud enough to rival the thunder.
Yumichika came around the fire and nudged him. "Ikkaku! Wake up. It's going to storm."
A long, irritated groan replaced the snoring, but still Ikkaku made no move to get up or even acknowledge that he'd heard what Yumichika had said.
"Come on, Ikkaku," Yumichika persisted. "I don't want to get caught out in this one. It sounds like a lot of thunder, which means a lot of lightning. It's going to be dangerous."
Ikkaku threw his arm over his eyes. "We're on low ground. We won't get hit."
"Ikk—"
"Besides, where would we go? We're safe here," Ikkaku grumbled. "And who cares if we get wet. We're already soaked and disgusting."
"We're practically dry!" Yumichika pointed out. "We've been sitting around the fire all night—"
"Yumichika, I'm tired and I'm sore, and I don't want to get up!" Ikkaku blurted out in exasperation. "If you want to go, go. I'm not stopping you."
"You really think I would leave without you? After all the unpleasantness you've put me through," Yumichika simpered.
Ikkaku actually cracked a half-asleep smile. "You want to stay with me because I've been unpleasant? I didn't realize you were a masochist."
"I must be for wanting to be with you," Yumichika snapped back. "Honestly, who else would put up with so much ungrateful whining?"
"Precisely," Ikkaku agreed.
Yumichika shook his head. "You have no idea what I put up with."
Ikkaku remained lying on his back. "Oh? What does the man with the zanpakuto have to worry about? You could probably just use that thing to crush the life out of me right now if I make you angry enough."
"Are you trying to make me angry?"
Ikkaku did not answer right away, but then he truthfully admitted, "No." He sat up slowly, rubbing his side gingerly. It felt like he had a couple broken ribs. Or maybe he was just stiff. "I guess I was thinking, the longer I lay here, the more time I have to think about what to do."
"What to do?"
Ikkaku looked up as a distant flash of lightening brought a split-second moment of light to their darkened world, now that the fire had burned low. "About you," he replied while stretching carefully. "Yumichika . . . you know the only reason I took you with me out of Guckoo was because I thought you needed my protection from a hollow. Now, I know there's no hollow. I know you have a zanpakuto, and I've seen you use it. You don't need my protection."
"I've already told you I don't stay with you because I need—"
Ikkaku waved him silent. "I know what you said, and I know you meant it." He drew his cheeks together in consternation. "And I'm not going to lie. There's a part of me that likes having you around."
"Then what's the problem?" Yumichika pressed.
"The problem is I . . . "
"You're afraid to go back to the way things were before your father came around and messed everything up. Just admit it. You were so afraid little pretty would leave you that you abandoned him before he could abandon you. And now, you're just being a stubborn, stupid moron who's afraid to try again!"
Ikkaku rebuked his conscience for not being very well formed. "The problem is that even while I like having you around, I hate having you around."
"Now, you're talking nonsense—" Yumichika began, but Ikkaku cut him off.
"It's not nonsense. All those months we were apart—"
"Were you happy without me?" Yumichika asked. "Answer me truthfully."
Ikkaku sighed. "Sometimes. Most of the time, not. But there were times when I was happy. I was happy working in the shipyards."
"But you left them. You chose me over the shipyards," Yumichika reminded him. "If you really wanted to go back to Guckoo, you know you could. Like you said, I can take care of myself, so there's no reason for you to stay with me." His voice grew dulcet. "Unless you want to. Do you want to, Ikkaku?"
Ikkaku waited for Yumichika's seductive powers to kick in. He assumed, from the tone of Yumichika's voice, that he was about to be plied. But when no such influence was felt, he realized that Yumichika was looking for an honest answer, one uncoerced by his abilities.
Ikkaku considered. He knew what he wanted. He knew precisely what he wanted. What was unclear was whether or not it was good for him. And good for Yumichika.
"I haven't decided yet," he said after several seconds.
"Then I'll stay with you until you decide," Yumichika stated.
"And if I decide that I want to be alone?" Ikkaku challenged. "Will you leave?"
Yumichika grinned. "I haven't decided yet."
Ikkaku growled his frustration as he got to his feet. "You may have a zanpakuto, but you haven't really changed at all, have you?"
"Oh?"
"You're still as hardheaded as ever."
Yumichika smirked in the darkness. "Huh, that's quite an accusation, coming from you."
"Let's just get moving."
Their passage through the wood was not without peril. They followed the course of the river, staying at least a hundred meters from its bank.
The storm overtook them quickly, and its violence was spectacular. The trees whipped in the wind, bringing large branches down. Thunder and lightning broke directly overhead, shaking the ground and making the very air tremble around them. The rain was so heavy and the wind so vicious that the leafy canopy overhead offered no protection at all. Within seconds, they were both drenched to the bone.
"This is unbelievable!" Yumichika shouted above the din. "We mightaswell be out in the open, as wet as we're getting!"
"Stop griping!" Ikkaku hollered back.
"I'm not griping! Just making an observation!" Yumichika countered.
But Ikkaku was not concerned with Yumichika's griping or his observations. He was too busy noticing that the ground seemed to be getting less and less firm, soggy and squelchy, requiring more and more effort with each step.
After five more minutes of walking, they were sinking up to their ankles. As night gave way to morning, even under the black sky, Ikkaku could see the ground ahead and to the left, in the direction of the river, was being overtaken quickly by rising water. The trees had grown more sparse, the ground punctuated with tufts of swamp grass. It was part of a flood plain, only the woods had disguised its vulnerability.
"This is turning into a bog," Ikkaku said. "The river must overflow into these woods."
"It's getting a little tough—" Yumichika began, but Ikkaku cut him off.
"We have to move away from the river before the water gets even higher. We can't keep heading downhill," Ikkaku stated. "Come on, this way."
Yumichika followed him without question. He could see with his own eyes that the water was rising at a dangerous pace. He could easily use the speed move and get to safety, but Ikkaku could not; and Yumichika would not leave him under any circumstance.
It became clear to both of them very quickly that the land over which they were moving was a flash swamp, the ground porous and turning into crippling mud, submerged under water that was now above knee-level.
Ikkaku looked back over his shoulder. Yumichika was struggling. If the water got much higher, they might not make it to higher ground and be forced to take refuge up in the trees. Surely, flood waters couldn't reach the top of the trees.
No. He didn't believe that. Nothing was a sure thing.
They had to get to higher ground.
He reached back and took hold of Yumichika's wrist. "Come on. We've got to hurry."
Yumichika kept up with him, but they were not outrunning the water. Instead, it continued to rise, as if filling a bowl.
"Why is it rising so fast?" Yumichika called out, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of thunder.
Ikkaku came to an abrupt halt. "There's why."
Up ahead of them was a wall of sheer rock, rising up at least sixty meters, criss-crossed with narrow ledges and dotted with the odd cliff-anchored scrub tree. To the left and the right, thirty or forty meters in each direction, torrents of water at least two stories high were rushing out in spumes from the inland high grounds. Who knew how many more such storm rivers were feeding the bog?
"It's flooding from the river and from inland," Ikkaku said, and he sounded more worried than he'd intended. "We need to get to the top of this cliff."
"It looks like there's a path on that ledge. See? It's got a switchback over there," Yumichika replied. "If we can get to that path, maybe we can get on top."
"It's worth a try," Ikkaku said. "It's the only chance we've got." A quick glance to his right showed the ledge at its lowest point close to where the flume was draining its contents into the bog. He led the way along the foot of the cliff, drawing nearer to the gushing spout and feeling its power begin to push and pull at his body. He grasped at the cliff for stability. When he was less than five meters away, his hand came up against something hard and thin protruding from the rock. It was a rusty iron spike.
There were several of them, placed moving up the cliff at regular intervals. They formed a sort of ladder that led up to the ledge. Apparently, the bog had its visitors who knew how to come and go.
He pulled Yumichika up in front of him, amazed that the water was now up to the smaller man's chest. "Go up!" he ordered.
Yumichika pulled himself out of the water and climbed up to the ledge. Here, he waited until Ikkaku was safely up and then he began following the ledge up the side of the cliff. Coming to the first switchback, he maneuvered carefully, for the higher he climbed, the narrower the ledge became. Yumichika was sure-footed and not in the least bit afraid of heights, but as he neared the far end of the ledge, he began to worry. He did not see another switchback. Did the ledge just end?
He edged closer to the corner of the flume and craned his head around. To his relief the ledge continued its upward path towards the top of the crevice. Directly overhead, he could see the water-laden earth sagging over the sides of the rocky sublayer. These great bowls of dripping mud and rain splattered down onto the path, but it was still passable.
He waited until Ikkaku was at his elbow.
"As long as the water stays below the ledge, we should be alright," he announced. "The path looks like it keeps going up, but I can't see the top where it comes out."
"Let's just go," Ikkaku grumbled. "It's not like we can go back."
Yumichika nodded and turned into the ravine. The rushing water generated a strong wind that drove the rain and spray into their eyes, but at least here, the path was a bit wider.
Ikkaku was moving without thinking. Each step came automatically. While he no longer feared that he and Yumichika would be overtaken by the rising water, he now wondered what they would find on top of the cliff. He was tired and hungry; and even with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he was still feeling the effect of his ordeal in the river. The pain was throbbing in his side and in his lungs.
He wanted this to be over. He wanted to find someplace dry and warm where he could nurse his injuries and maybe Yumichika could scare up some food.
In fact, he was so starving that, at first, he thought the rumbling was in his stomach.
"Ikkaku!"
At the sound of Yumichika's voice, he raised his eyes from their fixated survey of his footing just in time to see Yumichika fly into him, knocking him back. Ikkaku slid down the path, his legs and lower body going over the ledge. He stopped himself from falling only by his fingernails. All around him was noise and chaos and water and . . . . mud and rock.
Pulling himself back onto the path, he looked up to see an entire section of the flume wall had come down. Where he had been standing was completely obliterated.
And Yumichika was nowhere in sight.
