Growing Pains
19: Into the blurry morning we go
Auteur : Rain
Disclaimer : Shaman King…. Doesn't belong to me! How surprising! I am only playing with borrowed toys.
Notes :
To repent; to admit; to decide.
Hello everyone!
Please note: "Seigneur Maiden" means "Lady Maiden" in French.
Content warnings: body horror in Jeanne's segment (related to the X-III's deaths and Hao, so bad burns, skeletons, general nightmare territory).
Took me some time to figure out how to integrate my sweet readers' comments and also how to set up the rest of this fic. But now I have some material ready in advance for next time!
Thank you for your support. A special thanks to CorporalQueen, Realgya, Gaianee, Solemntempo, LugiaP2K, Allie, Julia, Hessy, the rest of the Funbari Hill server and everyone who ever left a comment here. Reading means a lot to me and commenting even more. Thank you again!
Previously on: Growing Pains
Jeanne is dead. After talking to her X-Laws about her guilt and regret related to the X-III's fate, she was killed on her way to peace talks with Yoh's group. Tamao, who was chosen to guide their convoy to their destination, has to defend her dead body from Hao's minions, and soon Hao himself. The ensuing confrontation flares both Tamao and Hao, who leaves with more questions than answers.
...
Jeanne walks through a cathedral. The room is large, with ceilings so high she cannot see them, and wide stone arches cutting through the space. Stained light touches her feet. Every sound echoes.
This space is familiar, and yet not. The benches are absent, the air is uncomfortably warm, and she feels watched by eyes unfamiliar.
Still, there is no way but through, and Jeanne walks between the arches. Shadows trouble the edge of her vision, tall beings, too thin to be human, with what looks like claws scraping at the walls. When the third thing passes by her, she turns sharply, but there is nothing there.
How dare they? Play games with her? Her blood surges as she searches the shadows.
"I can see you," she calls out in the dark. Whatever it is, she can face it. Whatever it is, she will face it.
Nothing comes.
"I can see you," she repeats, louder.
Nothing.
"Seigneur Maiden?"
She almost jumps out of her skin. Whirling around, she finds Marco standing there, a slightly bemused smile on his face. "Are you alright?"
She blinks. Behind him are the rest of them, Lyserg, John, Porf, Kevin, Larch, Christopher, Meene. All in uniform; all smiling.
She shifts her stance. Straightens up, brings her hands back in front of her, puts on a soft smile. Her throat feels hot. What did they see?
"Marco," she answers as evenly as possible. "What do you need?"
He grins, wider than he should. Something gold is staining his teeth and dripping down his chin.
"Seigneur Maiden," he repeats, taking a step towards her. Something is wrong.
"Marco?"
"Seigneur Maiden," Meene says, and her throat glows red and gold. The moment Jeanne looks at her, there is the crackle of a fire, and Meene's clothes fall to the ground.
No.
It's not just her clothes that fall.
And they do not fall. They melt.
Jeanne gasps in horror as the woman stumbles, now little more than bones.
"Meene," she calls, as impossible fingers reach for her. Not just Meene's; all of her men's hands are raised, trying to grasp for her, to hold her. She wants to run.
"Did I do right," the skull asks.
What?"
"We fought as you commanded," Kevin adds. His uniform doesn't look right. It looks full and heavy, as if his bones had been replaced with liquid. It rains pink on his shoes, a steady drip that smells foul. "You asked for this."
"I didn't," she stumbles. "I didn't want you to go."
"Then why did you remain silent? Why not tell us?"
"Did you think us disloyal?"
Chris isn't even present anymore. His voice alone echoes through the great hall as the rest of the skeletons close in. Their bones are flared silver and gold, words she knows and words she doesn't, but the air is heavy with rot. Jeanne cannot move her feet.
"Did we give you reason to doubt us?"
"Of course not…"
"Then why did we fight?"
It's Meene who asks, but all the jawbones move as one. Lyserg is so close he could almost grab her, his head ablaze with molten metal. She can't breathe.
Something gold flashes across her arm. Far away, a piano plays.
It breaks the spell and she pushes Lyserg back, running back between the stone arches. She can hear them behind her, a nightmarish cavalcade that can only meet two ends, her death or theirs.
There is a wooden staircase spiraling around the next archway, and she wastes no time in jumping up the first few steps. Her foot catches; her knees hit the ground painfully as she does her best to climb anyways.
Bony fingers lock around her ankle.
She screams as she's dragged down, her skin ripping against the balustrade as she tries to find purchase. She turns her head; it is Lyserg who has gotten to her.
"Seigneur Maiden," he says, his eyes two holes ablaze with unholy fires. "Come with us. This is where you should be. This is the price of your silence."
And the fact is, he's right.
Instead, Jeanne rips a shard of wood from the balustrade and neatly severs the hand wrapped around her foot. It's just bones; the strength of the hit is enough to send him flying.
Jeanne stands on weak legs and looks at the monsters she's created. Her weapon shifts, changes, takes weight and shine. An axe; she's found an axe.
Still, the thought of cracking these dear skulls with it is enough to make her hesitate. To make her take steps back up the long spinning staircase. The monsters are not moving, yet. They, too, seem to think twice about confronting her now.
"This is not what I wanted," she tells them, as she reaches the last step. There is no banister there, just a platform ending abruptly, and then, about three feet beyond the void, a large window of stained glass, which pours red and gold and green and blue all over her shoulders. "I will do better. I will do better. I will save us."
She remembers her words during her own match, the ease with which she condemned three men to death. Arrogant, she was arrogant. And now, this? Isn't it more of the same?
It is, but she has to bear this cross, for she could not bear its absence. "I will save us."
The monsters watch as she turns to face the light.
"Seigneur Maiden," they call one last time, but Jeanne runs up to the void, leaps, and breaks through.
ꙮ
Hao leaves, and the energy leaves with him. Tamao falls to her knees. She is still crying, and her vision is so blurry she barely realizes who is coming towards her before the man speaks.
"Don't even think about it," Hao's priest ally says. "She is under my protection."
"What are you talking about?" Marco sounds insulted.
Tamao glances down at the still body of the Iron Maiden and she finds herself crying harder. There is more noise above her head. Marco and the priest are talking, she knows, but she can't focus on it. She's still crying, for one, and there is the full weight of the dead body - bodies - at her feet.
She wishes she could hear the koto again, wishes for strength, but it's like she's sitting on shifting sands. "W, we should take them to…" To whom? Who can fix this? The Iron Maiden is dead. She's dead!
"Little one."
She looks up. The man above her is offering a hand.
"Lady Saati, of the Gandhara, is also able to bring the dead back to the land of the living. I assume Marco will want to drive there… if he can drive."
"Shut up before I kill you, Luchist," Marco says with a grunt. There is the bang of a gun, and a car is suddenly there, again. It's… it's the car that exploded. Tamao can't see sense in that, but she is quickly going beyond her ability to care.
Her heart is too busy hammering at her throat. Saati? "So the Iron Maiden's…"
"She is not completely lost," Luchist confirms. His face is difficult to read; Tamao doesn't understand what's happening. Why is he still here? Why did he not go with Hao? Why is Marco letting him stand so close to...
"Both of you, stand back," the voice of the Captain of the X-Laws cuts through them both like a hot wire. Tamao turns her head, and that's when she sees it, the burning ghost's ghastly face. The dead X-Law is staring at her hotly, as if she wishes she could turn her to flames, too. Tamao shivers.
Right.
She is Hao's soulmate. Officially, now.
Marco levels his gun at her face. Luchist smoothly steps in front of her. "Let's not play this game. She defended the Iron Maiden better than either of you could."
Tamao flushes. Did she?
"I don't care what she did. I don't trust her more than I do you," Marco says coldly. "Step away from them."
Stalemate. Tamao really, really doesn't want to move away from Jeanne's body. Her soul is still screaming at her to do something, anything, help this woman, find her wherever she is, bring her back. But she's not like her. Or like Saati. She can't actually do any of that.
She rises to her feet. "I want to come with," she tells Marco. "I - I really do not mean harm. I want - I need to stay by her side. Please?"
Marco frowns. The ghost at his side hisses.
She speaks truth, whispers something above them, and they all glance at the spirit standing there. Shamash has his book out. He would almost seem bored, if one of his small hands wasn't flying through the pages. We need to hurry. The Lady does not have forever.
Tamao's heart tightens. "What does he..."
Marco says something under his breath. Luchist coughs. "Not in front of children, Marco."
"Fuck you, too," the younger man says as he advances on them. Luchist pushes Tamao back, and try as she might she can't dodge in time.
Marco gathers the Iron Maiden in his arms. Her limbs hang in strange directions, and Tamao wants to scream. The grass below her is soaked red. He carries her into his car while the ghost stares at them, then he comes to collect Lyserg. It's painstaking work and his uniform ends up even more bloodied than it used to be. He's younger than she thought, Tamao realizes. And he's limping.
Luchist shows her his own car. "Come on. We'll follow them."
"Don't."
Let her, the god-class spirit says, and Marco visibly flinches.
"Fine."
Tamao moves to the black car and climbs into the passenger seat. She numbly watches as the blood stains the leather, but Luchist says nothing.
The car starts, and they move towards the village.
"So," the old man driving says quietly, "you have hidden quite a few things from me last time, miss. May I have your name?"
It takes so much to speak. She feels shellshocked, and every time Marco's car distances them the slightest bit her throat closes up.
"T-Tamao," she manages. "I'm. I. I didn't."
"Did you know Ashil, or was that a lie, too?"
"N-no lie."
"Did you know?"
She thinks of the stadium, of watching Jeanne fight, of the hands on her shoulders that kept her firmly in her seat so she wouldn't break both legs.
"I was not sure."
"You were wise to keep it quiet. You have put yourself at great danger, now."
Tamao swallows. Her voice feels small when she replies. She feels naked. "I couldn't let him hurt her."
"Why not?"
She glances at the old man's face. It is carefully neutral. A little too neutral.
"You have history with the X-Laws," she guesses.
"None that concerns you, I'm afraid."
"But you helped me. You're helping me right now."
The car swerves to the left, tires screeching, and comes to a sudden halt. Luchist stops looking at the road entirely, head turning to her. "You are now more important to Hao-sama than any of us. Anyone hurting you hurts him. Anyone killing you has serious chances of killing him. If you do not realize what it means, let me know immediately."
Tamao blinks. "I..."
"It means that you will stay with us from now on. You cannot be allowed to remain without defenses at Yoh-sama's. I am getting you to Lady Saati as a courtesy, but once Jeanne is awake, we will leave."
"Why?"
He tilts his head. "I doubt you misunderstand the intent."
"No, I mean… Why are you taking me to the Gandhara? Why are you taking me to see J- the Iron Maiden?"
He has more furyoku, a better spirit. He's not bloodied. He's not crying like a little baby. If he wanted to drive her right to Hao's compound, he could.
Luchist stares at her face. Then cracks a smile, and presses his foot down on the accelerator.
"Because you may be able to help her where I cannot."
ꙮ
Not even five hundred feet away from the site of the crash, Anahol goes up in flames. No talk, no explanation; he doesn't have the time to scream before Spirit of Fire snaps his soul in two.
Opachô already saw it in Hao's head; the child doesn't flinch, just scampers to catch up. She didn't like him much, anyways.
"Will it be okay," she asks.
Hao doesn't stop. He isn't quite sure where he's walking, just knows he needs to get some distance between him and the fight. Between him and her, the girl with the pink eyes, Tamao Tamamura, his infuriating soulmate.
Opachô is wondering why he's not answering her question, so he forces himself to focus.
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Luchist is very strong," she says, careful where she puts her naked feet on the ground. There are sharp pebbles and treacherous twigs in the grass. "But they're going to Saati, and the Maiden doesn't like him much."
Right. Luchist stayed behind. What a good man, this one, understanding his needs before he voices them, before he realizes them.
He's been a goddamn fool. Talking to her, letting her talk back, leaving her behind. If he was reasonable he'd turn right around and go get her himself. Trusting Luchist is one thing, but with this? He's a goddamn fool.
And yet his feet refuse to obey him. He continues to walk away, away, away.
Opachô worries for him. She tries not to think about it, plays hopscotch and counts the blue things she sees, but it seeps through. She's five, he reminds himself. She is still blessedly free of the curse, of words and what they mean. Or is it because she understands that she worries?
He scoops her up in his arms. There are still tears dribbling down his cheeks, entirely alien. Nobody cries that much for several minutes straight. He should be dehydrated, his reserves emptied out, and yet it continues.
The marks. It has to be the marks somehow.
Opachô draws a curious hand to them. She worries, more openly now. Is he holding her too tight? He sets her on his shoulders, continues to walk.
He can feel her wet hands in his hair.
"It's not me," he tells the child. Usually, he would not bother saying such things out loud. Opachô already knows. And yet. "Something is affecting me ever since we arrived there."
Opachô purses her lips together. "Is it the pink princess?"
She means Tamao. Hao snorts. "She's not the princess of anything. But no, I don't think that is it. It touched her, too, but it didn't come from her. I have never…"
He stops there. He trusts Opachô, but this? He never wants her to have to worry about such things. And now, with this mess, if he's not careful…
"What changed?"
"Hm?"
"Master Hao already knew all these people," Opachô says quietly. "Master Hao had already been close to them. Except for her, but – but you said it wasn't her. So what changed?"
Hao thinks about it. She's right; he's been close enough to all these fools at the stadium. Can't be Opachô or Luchist. Talked to Anahol privately. He's talked to Marco without issues before, taunts, grins. And the dog wasn't sad, not primarily; he was enraged, as is proper for him. Lyserg, too, he's already talked to. Left his mark.
That leaves one person.
Really, now.
Hao wants to laugh.
"Master Hao," Opachô whispers. She's rarely afraid of him, but it happens; she understands enough of his hatred for these marks to worry. Has she heard something he didn't want her to?
Sweet thing.
"You're fine," he whispers, tapping her little pudgy leg. "I know my secrets are safe with you."
"Opachô is a sealed tomb!"
That drags a laugh out of him, as he continues to step away from the crash site.
It doesn't last, though, because Opachô is not only smart, but also brave. "So what do we do, master Hao?"
Good question. It is rare he does not have an answer to that, his soul always awash with plans and certainties. For now, though, he is not quite sure.
"Maxwell will bring Jeanne to Saati," he guesses. She's the only other person able to help the Iron Maiden right now. Which means, if her behavior was any indication, that Tamao will be there.
Opachô's earlier words come back to him. Luchist can protect her from Marco, for sure. But if Marco spills the beans to Saati? He doesn't trust the leader of the Gandhara. She is too elegant for a simple execution, but that is even worse, all things considered. She's going to talk to Tamao. Convince her to move in her favor.
His feet finally stop. He knows where to go now.
"Opachô," he says as fire takes them. "I have a mission for you."
"Opachô mission!"
She knows what the correct sentence is, of course. Pretending to be smaller, pretending to be a baby, she loves that game. It should probably be a concern, but Hao is not willing to test these waters, not yet.
"Go to Yoh's," he says as he eyes the building in front of him. "Explain to him that I am borrowing Tamao for the time being." Will that suffice? It is a lot of courtesy, but he is feeling courteous.
No, that's a lie.
He's lying to himself too often about her, he finds, and carefully puts that information away for later consideration.
The child scampers off, delighted to have something to do, and he steps in front of the Gandhara's headquarters. The Lady herself is nowhere to be seen, no doubt already talking to a rabid dog inside, but there is a child at the window. She looks at him, blinks.
He grins.
The next second, he is next to her.
Komeri is no bigger than Opachô, except if he counts the small horns. He won't tell her that, though; Opachô does like to feel small.
The child stays in her seat, and her mind is refreshingly quiet. The Gandhara and their strange, frustrating discipline… He'd be annoyed, but he is past such emotions at the moment.
"You will tell your lady," he says to the child, "that if she tries anything with Tamao, I will pay you another visit. Are we understood?"
Komeri nods solemnly. Hao wishes he could see fear in her face, or at least in her mind. The placidity, the acceptance… It reminds him of the Iron Maiden.
He doesn't like it.
"Where are they?"
The girl jumps up from her chair. "I can take you," she says with a smile, and moves to the door. How polite.
Hao follows her further inside.