Demon
Chapter 17
Sendoh knew he was dreaming, but it didn't help. Terror throbbed in his throat. He tried to run, his small feet slipping in blood. Already, flames had engulfed the straw of the roof. Two demons filled the room, massive and terrifying, their wings stretching from wall to wall, blood dripping from their chins. Red blood.
He would be the next to die.
...where…?
Before he could feel the demon teeth in his neck, the whole world rocked, and all at once he was outside, coughing and spluttering in the smoke and watching the flames devour his home. All the warmth and the memories and the goodness. Everything. Gone.
And he had nothing. Nothing but a sword in his hand.
Where had it come from?
He gripped it tightly, though it was far too big, and much too heavy.
The stranger beside him turned to lead him away.
Sendoh was about to follow when he realised it wasn't his childhood home after all. He was standing in front of the tavern, on the cold street, his ears ringing. The blood smeared about the floor was Aida's. Was Koshino's. Was Ikegami's.
But the sword was still in his hands. It was the same sword. In her metal shone the same fire.
His eyes moved sideways, expecting to see Kaede beside him. But it wasn't Kaede, it was the stranger, still. Telling him softly, "Her name is Innocence." And Sendoh could only nod dumbly, a small child clinging to an oversized sword and a long and terrible path to walk.
A scream arose from the stricken building, and Sendoh lifted his eyes to see that it was not the tavern. He was standing in front of Yoku, watching the old farm house being eaten up by the flames. His home. Kaede's home. His heart lurched in his chest. Why? Everything was always taken from him in the end.
Sorrow overcame him.
No more. Please. It's enough already. Stop!
He whirled around to confront the stranger. The sword in his hand was no longer too big. It was just right. A part of his arm. An extension of his soul. But-
I don't want this! He was yelling.
He held it out, as if he could give it back. He would give it back if it meant he could erase all this pain. Wipe away so many years of loss and loneliness and hurt.
This sword. This world. This pain. I don't want it anymore! I never wanted it. I never asked for this.
I never asked to be saved!
"Her name is Innocence," the stranger repeated.
Sendoh held it out, desperate to return it. But within an eye blink, the stranger was gone, and the one standing beside him was Kaede. The flames of Yoku reflected in his eyes, giving them an unnatural demonic glow.
Sendoh watched in despair as Kaede gazed blankly at the burning house. There was ash smudged like fingers across his cheek.
"Akira-" he said softly. "You failed. Again. You promised me. You promised."
"I'm sorry!" Sendoh begged of him, feeling a rush of terrible panic. "Kaede, what can I do? I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Tell me! Please-!"
But before Kaede could answer, five cruel claws reached out and curled possessively into Kaede's hair, gripping him tight.
Sendoh looked up to see Sakuragi's amused smile.
Their eyes met, and pain erupted in his stomach. The sword fell useless from his hand.
Sendoh awoke with a gasp.
He sat bolt upright and looked around, disturbed. His hand went to press against his stomach, but there was nothing to sense. Not any more. Yet he was sure it was the sense that had woken him, bringing on this cold sweat and racing heart. Had it been a warning? A premonition? But nothing in the room seemed out of place.
He looked down. Rukawa was still asleep. Sendoh took a moment to calm the anxious fluttering in his chest. It had just been the dream that had roused him. Just a dream.
His eyes moved suspiciously over the room just in case. The two swords had been dropped on the floor at the head of the futon, parallel, within easy reach. The floor was littered with clothes. His kimono. Kaede's. Flung carelessly aside. At the centre of the room was the futon that filled the floor. Kaede beside him was half covered by the sheets, sleeping on his side, curled in towards Sendoh. One long arm reached forward to rest across Sendoh's lap possessively, his back moving ever so slightly with peaceful breathing.
Around them, the house was silent and calm. Nothing to fear.
Sendoh stared down at Kaede, feeling the adrenaline ebb slowly away, his breath slowing, his racing heart calmed.
Just a dream. He gave a relieved sigh.
Tentatively he reached out one hand to touch the fine hairs of Kaede's fringe, brushed over his eyes.
It was when Kaede was asleep that it was easiest to see what he was. His face relaxed and revealed gentleness in his expression. Warmth filled Sendoh just by being near him. He was… truly beautiful. Sendoh's often dreamed about what Rukawa must have looked like in drifting white wings. How the light would catch his face with radiant brightness. How he would appear youthful and boyish, lost in down and feathers that brushed with such softness across his skin. The feel of his lips, the way he might smile, unguarded, warm, the feeling of being close to something heavenly, pure and innocent.
The thought made Sendoh smile sadly.
Of course, once Rukawa was awake, the ease of imagining would vanish, and Sendoh would see the hardness in him. Rukawa was, in reality cold and fierce and strong. Not a creature of softness but one of strength. And yet Sendoh loved that too. He wouldn't have changed him for the world. But he couldn't deny that he was a little… curious.
Mitsui, Kogure, and even Sakuragi, had known another side of him. Sendoh felt a little sad that there were parts of Rukawa's heart that would always remain locked to him. Parts that Rukawa would never again open, or allow to be seen. Parts that he had barricaded away forever.
Sendoh didn't think he loved him any less for the fact that he felt pain, felt anger, was ruled now by the sense, blood and his thirst for revenge. But he regretted keenly never having had the chance to know the other facets of his soul. Having to accept that he would only ever see him discretely, in this short moment of time, and not across the full spectrum of his existence, and beyond, into the unimagined future. What he would become. How he would grow. Even without Sendoh there by his side to love him.
I don't want to leave you, he told the sleeping boy. I want to see everything. But that… impossible.
The thought stung.
He rose quietly, feeling heavy, leaving Rukawa sleeping where he was. He pulled his kimono back on, tied the sash, and took up Innocence. He turned her in his hands, recalling the dream. He hadn't dreamt of his family in so long. The night he'd lost everything, and gained only this long curve of sharpened metal in exchange.
Why this dream? Why now?
He shrugged and pushed the sheath through his obi, and let himself silently out of the room.
Sendoh passed through the now-familiar house, his slippered feet silent on the mats. The old wood, dark with age, was warped in places from heat, or from damp, or from cold. It was all dusty corners and frayed tatami. No one ever cleaned this place, he knew. It felt empty, and abandoned. But it felt safe too. A home. Consistent. Old. It was Yoku. Familiar to him now as much as the rooftop space in Anzai's cavern had once been. He'd loved it from the moment he'd set eyes on it, he recalled. This grand and neglected old house that seemed to suit Kaede so well.
He went outside onto the veranda, slipping his feet into outdoor shoes as he went, looking out across the grass to where Kogure was sitting, meditating quietly in the soft sun of the winter morning.
Sendoh measured his steps carefully, forcing himself to be aware of his body and its movements. He felt confident. His body, his mind, and his sword in close tune. It was as if the different parts of him were finally uniting. Things were slowly becoming easier, clearer to see.
Kogure was a good teacher. Where before things had been nothing but a blur, Kogure had helped him to focus. Not his eyes. Not just his instincts either – it was no longer a matter of his best guess. But he had to listen, as well. To let his mind flow along the blade. Innocence told him so much. The sound of her steel told him more about the direction of the attack, the speed, the turn in the blade, where the next blow was going to come from, than he could have believed. It wasn't loud, or clear. But it was coming to him, slowly. A melody that hinted at emotion, at depth, tugging deep in the heart of you. Nothing as crude as simple instructions, but something airy and insubstantial, something more to do with the soul than the mind. An instinct he hadn't attuned himself to yet.
But still Sendoh couldn't hear the sword directly. The song came to him through Kaede and, without Kaede, there was only silence.
The song, Sendoh suspected, was unnatural to mortal ears. Whatever bond Sendoh shared with Kaede seemed to be the only reason he could hear it at all.
But Kogure spoke to him frequently of the song. Made him mediate, listening. Encouraged him to find a state of harmony, sinking into it, joining it, and letting the sword sing through him. Reaching a unity so that the two of them, slayer and sword, were of one tune and one motion.
Slowly, Sendoh felt like he was beginning to understand what he meant.
Physical skill was a part of it, that was undeniable. Kogure was unbelievably fast and surprisingly strong. But physical limits were only one factor.
This was… something else.
It was rare, but sometimes he managed to reach a point where he was submerged in the song. Finding a little of that harmony which Kogure spoke of, if only for a few seconds.
It was like being underwater. The brightness of his conscious would fade and yet he would remain awake, alert. But he couldn't see. He couldn't breathe. The world simply… ceased. The sword humming in his hand became the full extent of his awareness.
In those short moments, he could turn aside Kogure's approaching blade just because it was there. He knew it was there, even though his eyes did not see it. It was factual. Obvious. Easy. Though he felt his limbs were heavy as lead, moving like rocks through the resistance of the water, Innocence responded. Moving swiftly where he willed her, imagined her, and not where he forced her to be.
It had happened a few times now. But it frightened him, especially as he came back to himself gasping for air, his head ringing painfully with the song that rattled inside his skull as if someone had hit him with a hammer.
This way of fighting exhausted him.
Still, the thought of Sakuragi Hanamichi always made him pick Innocence back up and continue.
After waking up and finding Sendoh gone, Rukawa lay motionless, gazing up at the shapes the sunlight made among the rafters.
It had been three days now. Only three days.
It was frightening how fast Sendoh had improved with that sword.
Equally frightening was just how familiar Rukawa was becoming with his touch, his warmth, the pleasure of his possession.
He shuffled down further into the sheets, flushing at the thought. A sweet drop of red on his cheeks that no one was there to see.
He could hear the sound of swords coming together beyond the walls of the house. He sat up, brushing the covers aside, and looked down at his nakedness. The memory of Sendoh's mouth on him the night before, the run of his hands, the warmth of his skin, made him blush again. He quickly got up and pulled on his clothes.
Once outside, he climbed up one of the overhanging trees that encircled the yard and settled back to watch what was going on below. The bough he sat on was comfortable and round, and he leant against the thick truck, mostly lost in the leaves, one leg dangling, the other sandal set against the bark. His eyes moved back-and-forth as the spar played out below him.
He watched the way Sendoh moved, responding to Kogure's attacks. There was something in him, something powerful and determined, that made him fascinating as a swordsman. Kogure's skill was undeniable and yet it was measured, careful and limited by plan and foresight. What burned in Sendoh Akira was brilliant and impulsive and alive.
The more Rukawa watched, the more he came to understand that Sendoh Akira had some natural skill none of them could truly measure themselves against. He was just… different. So very different from the three of them.
Rukawa looked down at his own hands. Pale, long-fingered, and elegant, without scars. He felt something ugly curl inside him. Fighting was against their nature. He'd heard it said a thousand times. But what did that mean? He did it. He was this thing. This thing that lived through a sword. They all were. Whether they were fighting against nature or not, wasn't the point. He'd chosen this. This weapon. This path of blood.
That Sendoh Akira would take to it more naturally than he ever did was to be expected. Mortals were survivors by nature. Biologically evolved to war, to fight, to spill blood. He knew that. But-
He cut his thoughts short with an abrupt shake of his head. What was there to be jealous of? The very idea was stupid.
He gripped the bark under his fingers, feeling troubled.
Something was wrong with him. Up until now he'd never stopped to think. Never had to care about himself. Never had anything to lose.
But Sendoh did something to him. Forced him up short before the sheer cliff face of reality. Uncovered him, inch by inch. Places where he was weak. Where he was wounded. Baring him to the hot sun and watching him burn.
And then, each night, he lost himself in his arms. Sendoh's lips on his collar, trailing up his throat, chasing away all that was black and awful. Making him brave. Making him whole. Filling him up with something else. Making him believe in himself, even if just for the night.
Hopes and promises. But what was it worth?
He lifted his eyes to the purpling sky, feeling unusually small and helpless. He gripped Akira reassuringly, feeling the coldness seeping through his arm, but it didn't seem to help much. There wasn't long. The gate couldn't remain open more than a couple more days.
He'd been so selfish. It had seemed so easy at the time. How casually had he plucked him like a leaf out of the black hands of death? He'd spared his life in the misguided belief that that life was then his to use. Just some mortal boy nobody wanted. A boy who would have perished anyway.
How had that boy become everything to him?
Rukawa had never truly believed he could protect Sendoh from the storm. It had always been wishful thinking at best. And now that he had run out of time, it made him want to vomit with worry.
"It makes me fucking sick."
Rukawa startled at the sudden voice. He turned his head in surprise to see Mitsui perched on the same branch, looking down at Sendoh and Kogure. Rukawa had been so lost in thought that he'd not noticed Mitsui's arrival at all.
"He's so fucking talented it makes me sick," Mitsui repeated with venom.
Rukawa eyed him. His kimono was navy blue, rumpled and casual on his strong frame. Vengeance was, as always, at his hip. A powerful sword for a powerful fighter. Always reliable. Always strong. Mitsui's posture was confident and easy, but the look in his eyes was neither. Rukawa knew he was anxious.
Mitsui turned his eyes upon Rukawa and glared at him. "And you! Sleeping with him now. You've really lost your fucking mind."
Rukawa winced a little at the reprimand. Maybe he was going crazy?
Mitsui rolled his eyes. "What are you going to do?" He demanded crossly. "What if he dies? What then?"
Rukawa shook his head. "I don't know."
"You've really backed yourself into a corner. It's lose-lose now."
Rukawa didn't speak, only chewing distracted on his lower lip.
Mitsui took in his expression in annoyance. "You need to decide," he blurted.
"Decide what?"
"Decide what you're prepared to lose."
Rukawa was silent, and Mitsui sighed.
"Listen. I like him. I like him a lot but, for fuck's sake, he's mortal, Kaede. Whether he dies now or dies later, you're going to lose him. That's one thing you know for sure."
"I... know."
'Well then." Mitsui said conclusively, and then eyed him suspiciously, "Kaede, you know that you have my sword. You'll always have my sword. But if it comes down to it, I want you to promise me that you won't go throwing yourself at Sakuragi's feet just to save him."
Rukawa took a breath. The world around him suddenly seemed strange and distant. His fingers felt numb against the bark.
"I... can't promise that," he said slowly. "I don't know what I'll do. What I'll throw away." He ran his fingers over his forearm, staring down at his own pale skin. "Everything, I expect."
Mitsui's jaw slackened. "Isn't this about your revenge?" he demanded. "Isn't the reason you saved him in the first place so that sword could help you to kill Sakuragi?"
Rukawa's eyes didn't leave Sendoh and Kogure practising below. "I don't know. I don't know what I want."
"Fucking hell," Mitsui's voice was irritated, and yet underneath there was something warm in his words. As if he'd expected as much. As if he couldn't argue back. Because he too knew love as a wholly irresistible force. "You know there's a reason why the laws condemn relationships with mortals," he lamented.
Rukawa lifted his eyes and, for the first time, a small ironic smirk touched his lips. "What are they going to do?" he questioned. "Damn me twice?"
Mitsui tsked crossly. "Fuck."
They sat in silence for while after that, just listening the sound of swords as Sendoh and Kogure below them exchanged blows.
Eventually, Mitsui shifted his weight. "You know, I really hate this."
Rukawa glanced sideways at him. "What?"
Mitsui gestured towards him. "This. You. Seeing you, like this."
"Like what?"
"Like you're..." Mitsui's face screwed up in distaste. "Like you're happy, or something. You know. Being with him."
Rukawa stared at him. "You don't want me to be happy?"
Mitsui shook his head in irritation, the cotton of his robe moving stiffly against his neck. "That's not what I meant. I want this for you always. Properly. I hate that you'll lose him. I hate that it'll probably be Sakuragi who kills him. It's just not right. It's fucking unbearable, in fact."
Rukawa gave a small resigned shrug, turning back to watch Kogure and Sendoh below. "Isn't it?" he agreed softly.
Mitsui was silent. He didn't seem to know what else to say. It was a few minutes before he admitted, "I'm going to tell Kogure to return." When Rukawa turned to look at him, he added, "Today."
There was silence.
Mitsui waited for Rukawa's reaction, but there was nothing to give away his thoughts. He frowned.
"I'm sorry," he said. "You know I don't have a choice."
Was that true? Mitsui wondered briefly. Even to his own ears it sounded insufficient. Unable to dent Rukawa's silence. Unable to keep at bay what was coming.
They'd faced terrible things together, these two brothers. Mitsui would always blame himself for what had happened to Kaede. Nothing he did would ever be penance enough for failing Kaede that night.
He'd put the entirely of his energy into the task of killing Sakuragi Hananichi. He'd convinced himself that that seemingly impossible task was the only route to redemption. Killing Sakuragi was the only thing to exist for. The only way to silence his guilt, and make up for his failures.
But now he was failing Kaede all over again.
Kogure was the only one of them who could realistically hold Sakuragi off. Kogure was the only one who had any real chance of protecting Sendoh Akira from the slow and painful death that awaited him.
But still, Mitsui couldn't. Couldn't risk losing him. Not Kiminobu.
"I understand," Rukawa told him softly.
Mitsui swallowed. "I'm sorry, Kaede. I just… I can't… I-."
"I know," Rukawa closed his eyes for a moment. "Hisashi, I really do know."
"I'm sorry," he repeated again.
Rukawa nodded silently.
"I'm sorry." It sounded pathetic, yet he couldn't seem to stop saying it.
Kaede didn't argue.
"Can we talk?"
Sendoh looked up from where he was leaning against a tree, panting hard. Rukawa dropped from the branch above and landed on the ground before him like a cat, totally silent, his eyes intense and troubled.
Sendoh had been sipping water from a bamboo flask, the sleeves of his kimono hanging down from his waist, his upper body bare and slick with sweat under the dappled shade. Rukawa's eyes could hardly bear to linger on him. Youthful and glorious and so very much alive. Such a strong and handsome thing.
"You okay?" Sendoh questioned. He straightened at once from the tree, his eyes creased with concern, looking at the dark shadows in Rukawa's eyes. His hand drifted compulsively to Innocence at his hip.
He had changed a little, under Kogure's intense teaching. The song hummed a little clearer, Rukawa noticed. Sendoh carried himself a little differently. It was a little reassuring, but far from enough.
Rukawa hesitated. He had to resist the urge to go to him, to be close to him, to press his ear against his bare chest, slide his fingers over his slick skin and listen to the beating of his heart. Instead, he indicated with his head that they should withdraw a little deeper into the trees, away from the house.
Sendoh followed him without question, trusting, pulling up his sleeves to cover his shoulders as they passed the outer trees and moved deeper into the damp shade. The sweat still shimmered on his collar and brow. It drew Rukawa's eyes irresistibly.
Rukawa turned to face him. They could still see silvers of the house between trunks and branches; rickety old thing. Within its familiar rooms Rukawa knew Mitsui and Kogure would be arguing at this moment. Kogure wanting to stay. Mitsui insisting that he leave. The two of them would probably embrace. Yet another parting for who knew how long.
Rukawa tried to focus, looking into Sendoh's face and taking a breath. He gripped the sword and sheath in his obi, and pulled them free. The bindings hung limp from the scabbard. He held it out to Sendoh, his hand shaking just a little.
"I want you to take this," he announced.
Sendoh's expression was surprised. He made no move to take the sword. "Kaede?"
Rukawa narrowed his eyes. "There's no more time. Take it, and go."
"Go?" Sendoh tilted his head, puzzled. "Go where?"
"Anywhere. Away. Away from here. From me."
Sendoh frowned softly. "You need it," he pointed out in confusion. "For your plan to work. Remember?"
"I don't want it. I don't want to use it." Rukawa took another half step forward, offering the sword more insistently.
Sendoh was reminded of his dream. I don't want it! He had cried. This sword. This world. This pain. I don't want it anymore!
"You're… giving up on me?" he questioned in dismay. "On yourself?"
Rukawa shook his head quickly. "No it's… it's not that."
Sendoh folded his arms across his chest, refusing to take the sword.
Rukawa stared back at him, feeling a little irritated that Sendoh was being so difficult.
Sendoh pressed his lips together tightly. "I thought we were doing this together?" he argued.
Slowly, Rukawa lowered Akira until he held it loosely against his thigh. He looked annoyed. He opened his mouth as if to speak crossly, but then he only took a breath, and closed it again. Then Sendoh saw something else his expression. An uncharacteristic resignation. Tiredness.
"Akira…" he began, "I..." He forced himself to take a breath. "I've never wanted anything except an end. A way to stop this feeling. I've... killed. And I've run. And there are questions I don't want to ask." His eyes fixed to the ground, unwilling to look into Sendoh's face. "I can't feel anything except the sense. This anger. Revenge. But this… you – you -" he stumbled awkwardly over his words.
Sendoh tilted his head, watching the struggle playing out in Rukawa's expression. Always having been more of action than of words, it was a little painful watching him trying to express himself now.
"You are… something that I…" Rukawa swallowed unhappily, his sentences falling apart. "Akira, I- I can't lose you."
He pressed his lips together hard, looking as if the effort of such a confession might cause him to physically collapse in upon himself.
Sendoh let out his breath slowly, trying to process this strange and very uncharacteristic outburst.
He stepped forward without thought and simply took him into his arms. Wanting to adore him. Burying his face into Rukawa's hair and breathing deeply. And when he felt Rukawa stiffen awkwardly in his embrace, it made him smile.
"Kaede, you know that I love you," he said, his voice low and soothing. "And I know how you feel. I feel exactly the same way. You have given me a reason to exist. Something more than the shadow life I've been living. I don't want to lose you, either."
An anxious silence was all that emanated from Rukawa.
A sigh pressed Sendoh's chest. "But, you're asking me to run away? I have my own vows to keep, Kaede. I have my own reasons for hunting Sakuragi. How can I leave them unavenged? Everyone that bastard has taken from me? And you. I've sworn a thousand times that I'll help you kill him, Kaede. Am I supposed to just walk away from that? Are my promises meaningless?"
Rukawa could only shake his head, his face still buried in Sendoh's chest, unable to give any answer. His free hand tentatively reached up to touch Sendoh's back, brushing lightly, barely enough to be considered an embrace returned and yet Sendoh chose to believe it to be one just the same. Something small. Their shared burden.
In his other hand Rukawa still held the sword he had been trying to give away, and so the hilt of Akira pressed gently against Sendoh's thigh, bleeding coldness.
Rukawa's uncertain embrace, the cold touch of the sword, made Sendoh suddenly understand just how much Rukawa was giving up at that moment.
He's giving up his chance at revenge, he realised soundly.
He has more reason to hunt Sakuragi than I.
If he would give it up for me, surely I can do the same for him?
The truth is that I'd give up much, much more for him if I had to.
But.
"Kaede, are you sure? Do you really want me to go?"
He nodded without hesitation. "Yes."
Leaving now is no guarantee of survival. Sakuragi might still hunt me down even as I run from him like a coward.
I'd rather die facing him with a sword in my hand. But then again, I'd rather live for Kaede, if I can. If there's any way… any small chance that I can be with him then…
...isn't that what I want most?
Sendoh drew slowly back, and held out his hand to take the sword from Rukawa's hand. "Okay."
Rukawa stared at him in amazement.
Sendoh gave a short nod as if to confirm, working hard to hold his countenance sure, though his eyes were troubled.
Every instinct I have screams at me to stay beside him.
That I should be with him. Protect him. Face our enemy side by side. We belong… together.
But.
I know what I am. I am Akira. I am the sword.
Perhaps I really am the weapon Kaede could use to bring down a god.
Or perhaps I am the blade on which Sakuragi will finally break him.
I cannot know my fate. To bring victory or defeat. Either seems too much. Perhaps it is better to run. To never know.
Akira was ice cold and unfamiliar in his hands. Like it didn't belong there. Still he gripped it as Rukawa pushed it quickly into his grasp, their lips meeting at the same time. A kiss Sendoh could barely feel. A strange numbness had come upon him.
I am kissing him goodbye, he realised in astonishment. It seemed totally unreal. I am leaving him to fight Sakuragi alone.
His legs seemed unsteady. He gripped Kaede's sword tighter.
"You'll come and find me, after the gate closes?" His voice sounded steady enough, yet it echoed in his ears as if he was speaking from somewhere far away.
"Of course I will."
Sendoh pulled Innocence from his obi. His movements were mechanical. Automatic. His hands belonging to someone else. His voice that of another person's too. "Take this," he said. "You need a sword."
Did I dream this too? he tried to recall the visions of his dream earlier that morning. That he would give me his sword? That I would give him mine? Or… was it something else entirely? He couldn't seem to remember.
Rukawa stared down at Innocence, and hesitated. A strange expression crossed his face. A peculiar unwillingness.
Sendoh frowned at his reaction.
But before he could ask why, all the sense sent a surge of pain through his chest like an arrow bolt.
With a jolt as if coming back to life, Sendoh snapped into an intense alertness. Beneath their feet, the floor moved. They looked downwards together. A violent lurch sent them reaching for one another. It felt like an earthquake, but there was nothing natural about it. It was accompanied by a rush of sickness so intense Sendoh could only remember having felt it like this once before.
For a moment he saw the tavern all around him. Koshino's trampled body. Ikegami's slit throat. The light and the chaos.
"The gate," he realised.
He gasped for breath, his vision going blurry as he struggled to look past the trees to see that a brilliant light was coming from the farm house. Yoku was fracturing into distorted shapes like broken glass before their eyes. The light was coming from within, overwhelming the walls, bursting from the windows and gaps in the wood. Parts of the roof were turning to ash, disintegrating into black nothing. It looked as though it were being sucked into its own centre.
We are too late, he thought numbly. He's already here.
"Hisashi!" Kaede gasped. "Kiminobu!"
Rukawa wrenched Akira back out of Sendoh's hands, reclaiming the sword he had, moments ago, been so determined to give away. He was already turning towards the house, heading towards the blinding madness.
Everything about him was different in that second. Gone was the honesty, the softness, the feeling with which he had pressed himself into Sendoh's arms. Now all at once his eyes were fire and his stance was war.
Sendoh's eyes widened. "Wait! Don't go near the-!"
His half-formed shout was ignored as Rukawa ran forward, out of the trees, drawing his sword, eyes fixed upon the collapsing building, nothing but resolve in his face.
Sendoh followed quickly, mirroring Rukawa's action and pulling Innocence free with a decisive snap of his arm, suppressing the pain in his gut through sheer force of will, struggling to keep his mind free of the intoxicating influence of the gate.
As he emerged from the trees, it was in time to see familiar black vines rocket out of the house, bursting out from the walls in an explosion of splintered wood, shooting towards where they stood as if to skewer them.
Sendoh lifted his sword defensively as the vines shot towards them, but as before they did not attack him, but went only for Rukawa.
Rukawa had expected them this time. He had the presence of mind to swing Akira sharply around, and at the meanest brush of contact with the angelic blade, the black vines disintegrated. Immediately, however, the tendrils he defeated were replaced by more, snaking and twisting their way out of the crumbling building.
"Hisashi!" he called again, trying to press forwards towards the house, but unable while the vines pressured him, driving him back. "Kiminobu!"
Sendoh was beside him at once, bringing Innocence around to help protect Rukawa from the attacks, remembering how last time the touch of just one had disabled Rukawa's arm for days. They were simple enough to defeat, but there were many of them.
They only attack Kaede. Why?
Even as he wondered at it, a crash like an explosion caught his attention. Sendoh looked to see a powerful winged demon burst out of the house, physically bursting through the wall as he came, sending wood and splinters across the yard.
In full flight he was so huge and powerful, with wings like pitch that seemed to block out the whole sky, that for a wild second Sendoh thought it was Sakuragi Hanamichi himself.
But then he saw following close behind, twisting around each other like snakes, a dozen black vines in pursuit, licking at the demon's ankles.
Mitsui! Sendoh realised in astonishment.
Everything about Mitsui at that moment was terrifying. The snarl on his lips, the blaze of his eyes, the pitch blackness of the wings that propelled him through the air. In his arms, Kogure hung limp and lifeless as Mitsui struggled towards safety.
To Sendoh's dismay one of the vines managed to loop itself around Mitsui's ankle, snapping taut and pulling him back. Mitsui let out a yell as the vine burned its way into his flesh, and he dropped – himself and Kogure's limp body – falling heavily to the grass with a thud like breaking bones. A dozen vines turned mid-air and shot down towards them both.
Seeing clearly what was about to happen, Sendoh wound his arm back and flung Innocence as hard as he could. She vibrated through the air, song rising in his ears, passing through the vine that had Mitsui's leg trapped, shattering it into dust, and skidding away across the grass.
He felt relieved when Mitsui reacted at once. Unable to walk on his wounded leg, he nonetheless beat hard with the great expanse of his wings, regaining the air with Kogure in his arms, sparing Sendoh only a shooting glance before disappearing beyond the trees as fast as possible.
"Let's go," Sendoh called out to Rukawa nearby, who was still occupied with the attacking vines. "Mitsui and Kiminobu got away. Let's find them."
Rukawa nodded and began to retreat backwards towards the trees.
Sendoh glanced over to Innocence where she lay on the grass where he'd thrown her. He felt vulnerable without his sword in his hand. He wondered if he could risk running to reach her. It would only take him a minute. The vines weren't targeting him, but-
He recalled briefly how Mitsui could call Vengeance to him, and wished that he could have done the same.
Rukawa was retreating backwards at a faster pace now, obviously keen to meet up with Mitsui as soon as possible. Sendoh felt helpless, unable to aid him in fending off the dangerous vines. Finally making up his mind, Sendoh took two steps towards Innocence. Took two steps away from Kaede. He was worthless, he reasoned, without a sword.
"Go!" Sendoh shouted to Rukawa, watching as Rukawa's wings began to unfurl behind him in the effort just to hold his ground. Still the vines kept attacking, and Rukawa kept retreating. "I'll follow you… I just... need to…"
He turned and began to sprint, Innocence in his sights, determined to reach her. His long strides carried him quickly over the grass, but he'd traversed only half the distance when he realised his mistake.
A stab of pain lanced through his temples. He looked across the lawn to see a giant red wolf sitting casually on the veranda, watching them. It's tail twitched every now and again. It's cruel yellow eyes glittering over two rows of dripping fangs. It was huge. Even larger than Sendoh remembered.
The sight of it made Sendoh's feet freeze to the ground. He turned back on instinct, every single facet of his mind screaming at him to get back to Kaede, abandoning the sword once again.
Turning back, he saw Rukawa being driven rapidly backwards over the grass, forced towards the trees. Sendoh began to run, but already he heard the thumps of the huge running paws against the ground. He saw Rukawa's eyes turn wide and round. He knew he was caught.
"Go!" he shouted out to him desperately. "Go-!" the word was knocked out of him as something heavy crashed into his side and sent him sprawling on the floor, bruising his shoulder, his arms and legs useless and ungainly, the air gone from his lungs.
A low rumble sounded right beside his ear and he turned his head to see those dagger-like fangs mere inches away, panting rancid breath into his face. He could feel the impossible weight of the huge animal standing on his back, keeping him against the floor as surely as if he were pinned by a boulder. At each of the four points where the paws crushed him, the unbelievable pain of burning burst over his skin. He would have screamed if he had any air left at all.
Instead, he heard Kaede's horror on his behalf. "Akira!"
Sendoh looked towards him, meeting his eyes across the space. Seeing him still driven back, unable to hold his ground as the vines continued their onslaught.
"Go!" Sendoh managed to splutter, his voice barely a gasp of air, hoping that Rukawa would get the message. "You can't – fight the - gate – just – go!"
I won't die.
He didn't have the air to say it. He screamed it. In his mind. Through his soul.
I swear it.
I won't die.
Not yet.
Not while you still need me.
Kaede.
I won't die yet.
In moments, Rukawa was gone from his sight, forced back beyond the trees. Sendoh was alone. He closed his eyes tiredly, feeling the familiar, terrifying helplessness. Knowing the futility of struggling against this weight.
"Sendoh Akira," Sakuragi's silky voice wafted through his fading senses. "I have been looking forward to this."
Sendoh managed to crack his eyes open. He felt so tired, his consciousness already flickering as the pain of Sakuragi's proximity and the disturbance of the gate made his mind swim and distort.
The wolf was gone. He realised was looking into the face of a snake. Huge and yellow, it's tongue flickering between six inch fangs dripping poison. He could feel its body curling around him. His arms, his legs, his torso pressed tight as it slithered and sucked him into its embrace. It took hold of him completely, squeezing him hard until his eyes rolled and his tongue lolled out, desperate for air. Every inch of him was caressed in the thick body of the serpent, wriggling up between his legs and twisting softly around his throat. He didn't have the energy to resist. He was so sleepy. So tired…
"This is the day you die, mortal," Sakuragi crooned into his ear, tightening his hold a little more with an ominous creak.
Sendoh barely heard him, his hand opening and closing compulsively, looking for a sword that wasn't there.
I can't… he tried to gasp ...die… yet.
But with a final exhale of air, his consciousness collapsed.