Summary: In this conclusion to the two-parter, Yoh and Ren hit a snag in their plan—even before they set foot on Mount Osore. What will become of them?

Written: Oh geez. Let's not talk about that… Finished (finally) on 11/7/07.

Rating: T for mild language, violence, and mild romantic themes, including (very slight) yaoi (gasp!)

Notes: Well, it's done. I don't claim that it's any good, just that it's a miracle I wrote it at all, considering the mound of schoolwork I've been clawing my way through recently. Anyway, please try to enjoy it despite the suckiness, hehe.

Edit (11/8): Noticed a few of my punctuation marks, space breaks, etc. had been lost when I uploaded. These errors have been corrected.

The Interceptor

Kiss #18

Through a window smudged with greasy fingerprints and streaks of rain long ago dried, Yoh could see, just behind the pothole-ridden parking lot, a lush copse of trees that abruptly ended at the base of a mountain. In stark contrast to the verdant foliage before it, the promontory stood drab and lifeless, looking no less sinister in its barren grayness even with an equally gloomy sky backing it.

For a second Yoh's eyes narrowed as they took in the mountain, but he shook his head and shifted his attention to the table before him. Hungry as he was, he ignored his tall stack of pancakes and addressed his companion warily. "Do you really have to carry that poleaxe with you everywhere?"

Ren smiled, a gesture that if anything was more menacing than his usual expression. "I don't trust any of these swine farther than I can stab them. Which is, thankfully, pretty far."

"Why do you hate humanity so much?" Yoh poured a generous stream of syrup onto his pancakes, perhaps doling out more than he meant to as he continued to speak. "I mean, people aren't all bad. I'm your friend, right?"

The Chinese boy gave a harsh laugh—one that, like his smile, betrayed his true contempt. "On the occasion of our first meeting, I came within inches of killing you. What makes you think my feelings have changed since then?"

Taken aback, Yoh barely noticed the puddle of syrup that was now oozing off his plate onto the table.

"I should have chosen my words more carefully, Yoh. I meant to say certainly we are friends, if only because we share a common enemy. But even such a friendship of convenience is counter-intuitive. To become Shaman King, one of us will inevitably need to eliminate the other."

As Yoh mopped ineffectively at the syrup river with his cloth napkin, Ren leaned forward aggressively. "Remember, Yoh. I keep my friends close—and my enemies closer."

"Fine, fine," Yoh said with all the calmness he could muster with Ren bearing down on him. "You don't like me. You don't like anyone, it seems. Then why," he asked, finally managing to bring a forkful of syrup-saturated pancake to his mouth, "do you want this oni dead? Wouldn't you rather see it terrorize these 'swine' for whatever they've done that makes you hate them so much? And why bring me along for help? Don't you hate me, too?" Yoh had rather tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but found, for that moment at least, he disliked his partner.

"Hate is such a strong word, Yoh. Ordinary people I dislike for allowing wickedness to perpetuate itself, but such behavior is only passively evil." Ren's veined hands clasped as though in furious prayer as he continued, "However, the oni takes an unspoiled child and channels through him its corrupted joy, its perverted satisfaction, feeds him lies, makes him into something that everyone detests. Including himself. Your fiancée knows well the phenomenon. And while I have never spent time under the influence of an oni, the ordeal—"

"Is exactly what your father did to you."

It was hard to tell who looked more shocked at what Yoh had blurted. Ren had sloshed a fair bit of milk onto the table, while Yoh had dropped his knife into a pool of syrup. A look of comprehension and newfound respect took shape on his face, while Ren's features hardened abruptly, as though trying to ward off any pity he was about to receive. He looked awkward for a moment, not sure what to say, when he remembered the second part of Yoh's inquiry.

"And as for why I brought you along…Call me a sentimental fool, but I've come to enjoy your company."

It was Yoh's turn to feel awkward. He thought it might be a good idea to imitate, say, the cool protagonist of a popular manga series, so he reached out a hand and made to clasp Ren on the shoulder, but he scooted aside.

"It's nothing personal," Ren said to Yoh's bewildered look. "It's just your hand, well, it's dripping with syrup."

"Oh!"

"How can you even eat at a time like this, anyway?" The glass of milk in his hands was nearly empty. "I've been too nervous to take one bite since yesterday afternoon."

Yoh smiled. "What's to be nervous about? We can only be as powerful as we know we can be. The other half of the equation is our opponent, and worrying over what we can't control won't change anything."

"Heh. When you're right, you're right." A moment's pause ensued, but Ren felt acutely aware of the emptiness in his stomach. "Hey, Yoh, um, are you going to finish that?"

"Huh? Oh, go for it."

"Geez, man. You want some pancakes with your syrup, maybe?"

"Well, you see, I kind of got distracted when I poured that, when you started talking about how much you hate me…"

"Come on! I thought you'd be used to it by now…"

"Just so we're clear. You don't, do you?"

"Argh! You know, maybe I do after all!"

"Seriously?"

"You're hopeless, Yoh."

--------------------

It's hopeless, Yoh.

I can't stop thinking about you.

Anna stood before the television in the living room, but it lay still and quiet. Instead she stared over it, to the framed portrait of her fiancé. The fact that he would sit for a photograph with those headphones still straddling the back of his head was a testament to his carefree attitude. His wide eyes, childish grin, and unkempt hair gave an aura that was palpable, even through the picture, a vibe of innocence, one that at once attracted and repulsed her…

Enjoy it while you can, Yoh. We all lose our innocence sooner or later. Some of us had it stolen from us.

She had forgotten about the object in her hand, a cold spike with the color and texture of coarse granite, which seemed to send hatred coursing through her veins anew. In exchange for my innocence, I received this horn. Not much of a fair trade.

It no longer controls me, but its vestiges haunt me still. The way its joy is obtained at the torture and suffering of others. The way it measures success by the bodies it leaves in its wake. The way its love…No, it does not love. It cannot. It loves by dominating, by controlling.

The portrait of Yoh changed; the innocent eyes now burned with a white intensity that emanated from her own conscience. And yet, what exists between Yoh and I is love, isn't it? Or do I dominate, do I control?

She knew the answer, even before she found herself collapsing onto the couch. Am I no better for the way I treat Yoh? Of course—mine is out of love…

But it's a fine line indeed. The photograph was fading now, as though harsh glare was refracting off the glass, and Anna's slender arm involuntarily lunged out to touch it. When she realized what she had subconsciously done, she was poignantly aware, for the first time since Yoh had left hours ago, of how alone she truly was.

I love you. It's about damn time I proved it.

--------------------

"Love?"

It was odd for Yoh to be speaking of such a topic when he and Ren were surrounded as they were by barren, jagged rocks as far as the eye could see, but he hadn't initiated the conversation.

"Yeah. I mean, your marriage is arranged, right? Do you think you'd still marry her if you were given the choice?"

Yoh looked uncomfortable; he was sweating, and it wasn't entirely due to the arduous trek up the mountainside. He shrugged, trying to make it look as unconcerned as he could, but Ren thought he saw his fists clench anxiously as he did so. "What is love, anyway? I mean, the idea's been done to death. You hear it everywhere. Greeting cards. Movies. Even hack fan fiction authors."

He was skirting the issue, and Ren wasn't unaware of his dilatory tactics. "Yep, it's everywhere. Which is all the more reason why you should know if what you have with Anna is love. Or not."

"We're happy together, all right?" Yoh snapped uncharacteristically. He realized he had shouted and stopped, mouth open in contrition. "I—I'm sorry, I…"

Ren shook his head wistfully. "See, you shouldn't have to apologize for honesty like that. I wonder where you learned to be so reserved with your feelings?" he asked disingenuously, for he already knew the answer he was looking for.

With a defeated sigh, Yoh admitted, "It's hard sometimes. She can be a cruel taskmaster, but I know she has my best interests in mind. Most of the time, at least. I just wish…well, I honestly believe I love her, and…"

His face felt suddenly warm, and knew he must have been blushing without Ren pointing it out. Nonetheless, he finished, "…it would be nice if she'd give me reason to believe she does, too."

Ren nodded, steadfastly taking no notice of Yoh's embarrassment. "I hear you. And people wonder why I'm still single. Ha! Girls—who needs them?"

There was a strained, bittersweet grimace on Ren's face at that moment, and seeing it made Yoh feel inexplicably forlorn. His hand—free of sticky syrup this time—clasped his friend's shoulder reassuringly. "Buck up, Ren. You'll find someone sooner than you think."

Ren turned around slowly, taking a single step toward Yoh, and for a brief moment a stream of crazy, frenzied thoughts ran through his mind. Wait, is his face coming closer to mine? Dear God, why am I not disturbed by that? Aw, what the hell—

"What the hell?!"

With a start, Yoh opened his eyes and jerked his head around. Little did he know Ren's eyes had been closed too…

"Mount Osore has a history of tormented spirits and bloodshed, and you two dare defile it with your ungodly acts?! A thousand obake upon both your heads, heathens!"

As both Yoh and Ren stared, quivering, at the old man in tattered robes, he shook his head and continued up the mountain path, the sound of his walking stick scraping the rock going unnoticed. "God only knows what that young woman down the path was doing, too, sure looked suspect to me," he muttered to himself as he disappeared around a bend.

Yoh and Ren turned their heads towards each other simultaneously. A minute of very pregnant silence ticked by, followed by rapid speech:

"I, uh, well, I felt faint for a moment there, you know, heatstroke and all," Yoh blustered.

"Yeah, and I, err, I just needed a shoulder to cry on," ventured Ren, clearing his throat overzealously. "So, um, shall we get going?"

"Leaving so soon? What's the rush?"

Yoh froze halfway through a step, lurching slightly forward, his mouth agape. Ren snapped to rigidity and stayed there, standing absurdly straight, his knuckles white around his quivering spear.

That voice… Yoh shuddered, realizing he had unsheathed Harusame instinctively. Like nails on a chalkboard…

"It's been five years, and evidently your manners have not improved since." A cerulean oval materialized in the air before them, shimmering and shaking like a globe of floating water, until sickly crimson limbs poked through, clawing and kicking their way out. It was almost entirely free of its prison, save for the head, which abruptly launched forward. Yoh and Ren dived in opposite directions just before the oni tumbled between them with a shrill, chilling laugh.

"Don't be difficult," the oni cackled, standing erect. Excluding its horn, it stood a full head and shoulders above Yoh's compact frame. It raised one of its hands—the sickly sallow claws of fingernails made Ren wince—and felt at the top of its bald, blood-red scalp.

"You have a trophy from me. Now it's my turn." Its fingers glided over a gray stump protruding from its scalp, a deadly glare smoldering in its fiery pupils. "Don't worry—I'm not unreasonable. I shall spare your life as you spared mine. An arm or leg will suffice…Yoh Asakura."

Without warning, the demon charged straight towards Yoh. His pulse quickened, but he felt a totally unrelated warmth within his chest as he leapt, with strength that was almost entirely not his. As he saw a streak of red pass through where he had been just a moment ago, he exhaled sharply. "Thanks, Amidamaru."

"We are not free of danger yet, Yoh-dono," came the reply. Sure enough, as soon as Yoh's feet touched the ground again, he barely saw out of the corner of his eye a vermillion streak. It grew bigger, and Yoh felt himself face it. A glint of polished steel made to intercept the streak, but it changed course just inches before his blade, and now Yoh was the one facing an attack—

"Aaargh!"

"Yoh!!"

The warmth in his chest was gone immediately, and Yoh felt as though icicles had just raked across his ribcage. A stinging, haunting cold embraced him then, and it was worse than any physical pain he had ever endured; rather than inspire his fighting spirit, this injury instead made him feel helpless…Must…fight…he thought, and he saw with blurred vision Ren sending his spear twirling in all directions. But it was no use; the despair had made it into his bloodstream, and he kneeled, closing his eyes…

"Yoh-dono!"

Nothing. It's over, Yoh thought, kneeling, immobile…

"Yoh-dono!!"

"Amidamaru…no…we're done for, the suffering will end sooner…if I lay still…"

Silence from the samurai. The sound of rushing air from near-misses and barely dodged swipes went uninterrupted, until Amidamaru hit upon the solution…

"Reach into your pocket, Yoh!"

"What? Don't…don't be ridiculous…"

"Yoh-dono, I beg of you, do it!"

"I…" Resignedly, Yoh's free hand slid languidly to his pocket. There was nothing in it…but then his fingertips brushed something silky yet bristly, and the bundle felt rejuvenating, warm…

"Ugh!"

Yoh looked up, filled with new resolve. That was the first thing he heard, followed an instant later by the clatter of a polearm hitting a bed of rock.

"You of all people should know," squealed the demon, "friends are only good for stabbing you in the back."

Yoh wondered for a moment what the oni meant by that, until he noticed Ren's retrieval of his weapon was oddly mechanical, and there was a vacant expression in his eyes…

"Ren? Ren!"

Before he could yell a third time, he was rolling to avoid a sharpened spear tip. He heard his shirt tearing and felt an adrenaline rush from the closeness of the encounter. What am I going to do? Ren's a match for me, and with the demon that's possessing him…I've got to find some way of killing the oni without taking Ren with him!

Yoh found his sword arm parrying a vicious lunge, but the momentum of the attack still sent him flying. Ren riposted, and Yoh was forced into an ungraceful backflip to maintain a grip on his katana. He smacked Ren with his elbow, but he returned to his feet almost instantly. I can't keep this up forever.

One of us is going to die…Maybe Ren was right after all…

"Enough!" shrieked the oni.

When Yoh saw Ren adopt a wide stance and shift his grip on his polearm to the very base, he gulped and stared, wide-eyed, knowing what was coming.

The Vorpal Dance…

He knew what he had to do.

I can't hurt my friends.

I'd…I'd sooner die…

Ren touched off from the ground. Yoh's vision began to wash out; the oni's skin appeared delicate pink now. So this is what dying is like. Almost like the movies. Feeling a rush like never before, Yoh charged with every muscle toward the oni, but it merely gave a harsh laugh and put up both of its horrible clawed hands.

"Kill me, then, hell-spawn," Yoh hissed, fearing nothing anymore. "Let's dance!"

The demon laughed again. "I'm done toying with you, Asakura. Die!"

Yoh had time for one lunge with his sword. The demon leapt above his attack while swiping with his horrible claw; Yoh tried to roll under the oni, but he knew his time had come. A horrible feeling, like frozen diamonds eviscerating him through the chest, overwhelmed him; he shuddered in midair before coming to a dead stop on the ground just inches behind the oni.

"Someone…greater than me will save you, Ren."

A cough; a great, rattling breath.

And then all was blackness…

--------------------

There's something touching my shoulder, I think.

But that's impossible. I'm dead.

Two screams echoed off the mountainside as Yoh pried his eyes open. The first thing he saw was a fearsome spear point, massive as an axe head, wedged into the rock, in the middle of a pool of green ichor, not two inches from his face.

The second scream was even higher-pitched, which made sense, as it was uttered by a female. It wasn't fearful, as Yoh's had been.

Yoh blinked. The spear did not vanish, although its shaft, he now saw, had impaled a one-horned oni square in the chest. He craned his head upwards and saw a Chinese boy tightly knotting a field dressing around his abdomen. At that moment he was knocked unceremoniously aside, while Yoh found himself dizzy and lightheaded and suddenly swept to his feet…

"Yoh!"

He stood there stupidly even as Anna's arms wound behind his back. The warmth of her body didn't quite register. All he could manage was, "Why…You shouldn't be here…"

Anna ran a hand across his field dressing. "And you wonder why…why I worry about you sometimes," she whispered, her face nestled in his shoulder.

"You worry about me?"

"Of course!" Anna's reply was oddly stuffy, and it wasn't just muffled from his shoulder. "Yoh…Don't you leave me…You'd better not…You can't die, all right?"

Despite himself, and despite his urge to say something romantic, he laughed. He still felt as though this all hadn't happened, but Anna's arms suddenly unclasping behind his back did a great deal in snapping him back to reality.

"I'm serious…Oh, Yoh, do you understand, do you…love…"

He didn't quite know what to say, but it was too late anyway; Anna had taken a seat on the bare stone, and now Ren stood before him, looking almost remorseful…

The words would have been ludicrous in any other circumstance, but neither of them so much as smiled. "Yoh, I'm sorry I almost killed you."

"It's…it's quite all right, Ren. It's nothing you haven't tried to do to me before."

That got a little laugh from Ren. "But seriously, that was an awesome move. You managed to get behind the oni right as my attack would have…well, would have got you."

"That was total luck," Yoh admitted. "I just…well…"

"Huh?"

"Ren, I honestly thought I was going to die at that moment. I just wanted to try to get to the demon once before that."

"But…Yoh, you could have easily overpowered me to get to the demon instead—"

"No, I couldn't have." Yoh looked directly into Ren's amber eyes as he finished, "Because you're my friend."

Stunned silence for a couple of seconds. Then, "Aww…what the heck."

Yoh felt strangely stiff embracing his friend, but more importantly it felt necessary. "Thanks, buddy," said Ren, who looked no less awkward giving Yoh a sharp pat on the back.

"Oh Lord, not you two boys again. Why don't you get a room already?"

"What?!"

Ugh, not that old man again?! What great timing, too…

"Oh, crap…Anna, look, it's not what it sounds like…" She had stood up and, from the looks of it, appeared ready to liberally administer slaps. Yoh, for the first time since he had lost consciousness, raised his left hand in anticipation, but a little yellow bundle slipped out…

He bent over to pick it up. The blond strands of hair were still reassuringly warm and smooth, and when he stood up, Anna was staring at it as well.

"You…"

"Couldn't have done without it," Yoh finished, and her arms were around him tightly again. Just as he had never felt so cold earlier that day, there in her embrace he felt warmth of a new kind. Surely Yoh experienced his fair share of brushes with death, but love is a celebration of life; and kisses, exclamations of joy. It was one such exclamation that Yoh and Anna shared there, and their happiness exorcised any remaining traces of despair from his chest, banished them as surely as the broken husk of a demon that lurched, impaled, behind them. Their supple lips fused like wax, warm and sensual, and Ren was dignified enough to suddenly become very interested in the dead oni until, at long last, the kiss concluded…

"Well, the dirty old man was right about one thing," Anna breathed after they had stared wordlessly, yet gently, at each other for several moments.

"What's that?"

"We should get a room."

Yoh stared, half incredulously, half excitedly, at Anna, until she snapped, "A hospital room, of course!"

He smiled. "Of course, Anna. Of course."