Author's Notes: See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.
Love, Life, and Death By Annie-chan Chapter Seven: RevengeHôjun ran out of his house, searching for his enemy. He barely noticed that the sky was quickly darkening, and that the characteristic smell of approaching rain filled the air. His only thoughts were of vengeance. That traitorous bastard Hikô would pay dearly for sins committed against those who trusted him most. Hôjun swore on his very soul that he would take Kôran as his own again. The filthy traitor he once thought as his friend never deserved her.
She's mine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hôjun mentally screeched to the wind, which was getting stronger by the second. He'll never have her! She belongs to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tears of hate, anger, and sorrow were coursing down his cheeks again. His eyes were wild; not an ounce of the gentle young man he had been only yesterday shown in them anymore. Only madness and a driving need for payback remained.
Lightning split the air, and a second later, a deafening peal of thunder startled him so much that he fell down into the grass of the fields outside of town. Nobody was outside in the town anymore, much less out here. Hôjun had been so preoccupied with other matters that he failed to notice the signs of a storm that had been keeping the villagers on their toes since shortly after sunrise. Nobody was to be seen.
Rain began pouring down all at once, and Hôjun was soaked to the bone in a matter of seconds. No matter. He had spotted his prey. By the willow tree, of all places, staring into the rapidly rising river, still as a marble statue. He grinned in anticipation and started for the tree.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hikô had run to the willow tree as soon as he had left Kôran's house. He didn't know why, as he let his feet carry him wherever without interference from his brain. The air was thickening. A storm was approaching, and fast. He didn't care. He knew that one of the worst places to be in a lightning storm was near a tree. If that tree was hit, he might very well be killed. He didn't care about that, either. All he wanted was to die, anyway. He had heard Hôjun's wailing inquiry to Kôran, and knew he had broken his best friend far beyond complete repair. Hell, he may be beyond all repair.
He saw the lightning and heard the thunder, but they barely registered in his grief-clouded mind. Even when the rain began and drenched him from head to toe, he barely noticed. Thunder and lightning crashed a few more times, now right above the valley, and he still stood completely motionless, staring into the angry current of the quickly flooding Shôryû River. Nothing succeeded in bringing him out of his trance, until…
A low, cruel, sadistic chuckle sounded from behind him. The wind was blowing gale force, but the odd laughing sound managed to reach his ears. If he hadn't been stalk still already, he would have frozen stiff. The sound terrified him, and he had to physically force himself to turn around. What he saw was beyond horrible.
There, barely fifteen feet away from him, stood Hôjun. The younger boy's hair was plastered to his head, his clothes clung to his body with the rain, his eyes were wide and staring, and his mouth was twisted in an inhuman grin. He looked dead. He looked like a demon returned from death to haunt its killer. Hikô stood there, staring in terror at the monster before him, unable to make himself move. His breath had become extremely quick and shallow, and his heart felt ready to burst through his ribs, it was pounding so hard. All desire to die left him immediately. All he wanted was to get away from this hellish being that stood leering at him. If only he could make himself move…
Hôjun finally spoke, his voice dripping with an unholy desire to kill. "I've found you," he said, moving slowly closer. "I've found you. And you will pay, Hikô. You will pay." He kept getting closer, forcing Hikô to back toward the river. "I will take her back from you, and then, you will die. And I will dance over your sinning body. Your blasphemous remains will have no burial, but will be thrown to the river. I will take special pleasure in the taste of your blood on my fingers." He laughed again, and reached inside his tunic, pulling out a huge knife.
A sickening feeling swept through Hikô. He was going to die. He was going to suffer a long time, he was sure. As Hôjun neared, the knife upraised, a flash of light caught Hikô's eye. He pried his eyes off of Hôjun's murderous eyes and drew his gaze lower. There, under the right pant leg, in the area of the knee, was a bright red glow.
Hikô's heart skipped about three beats. Suzaku Shichi Seishi . Everyone knew the legend. And now, one of the fabled Sacred Warriors of Suzaku was closing in on him, a knife pointed at his chest. I'm never going to get away from him!
He was at the edge of the riverbank. There was nowhere else to go. He instinctively turned his head to gauge the chances of falling in, and when he turned back, he nearly screamed to find the gruesome apparition less that a foot from him. Hôjun raised the knife high above his head.
"Korosu!" he whispered venomously, and plunged the knife toward Hikô's face.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"The dam is breaking! Evacuate the village!"
Kôran heard that cry and nearly died of fear. The dam holding the mighty Shôryû from overtaking the town in huge rainstorms like this was giving way. Excessive rain up in the mountains and excessive rain down here was a surefire way to bring about a flood. Therefore, a large dam had been built to keep the water in check. Now, that dam was breaking, ready to let loose a wall of water enough to destroy Shôryû.
She ran outside into the panicked mob. People were running everywhere, grabbing what they could, trying to get everything they could carry before the waters came. She searched frantically around for any sign of Hôjun or Hikô. None. Only glimpses here and there of family members of theirs. The tears started anew. Where were they? Were they all right?
Oh, Suzaku, keep them safe, was her last thought before Uta stuffed some things into her arms and began dragging her in the direction of the highest ground around the rim of the valley not far off.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The knife came straight down toward his face, and he instinctively threw himself to the side to avoid it. It barely missed him, cutting his right cheek. Hôjun snarled and lunged, striking toward his neck and chest. Hikô caught the wrist of the hand holding the knife and managed to keep it still, but the other hand was still free. It shot up and grabbed the front of Hikô's clothing, nearly ripping the fabric.
"Give her…give her back to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hôjun roared above the shrieking wind and rain.
"Hôjun…!" Hikô forced himself to say, casting around desperately for words to somehow placate the man who was intent on killing him.
Hot tears were streaming down Hôjun's face, hardly visible through the cold rain that already soaked it. And, in his eyes, Hikô was shocked to find a desperate plea to be stopped. His spirit was screaming for Hikô to stop him, to pull him out of this frenzy.
That plea was all Hikô needed to act. He gathered his strength and shoved Hôjun back, toward the tree. Seishi or not, Hôjun just wasn't physically as strong as Hikô. He had not spent the last several years of his life working at the forge as the older boy had. Hôjun was strong, but not nearly so.
He howled and struggled desperately as Hikô forced him back against the tree, pinning him to it with his wrists to either side of him, held firmly to the trunk by two stronger hands. He felt the knife wrenched from his hand, and he bucked and writhed madly, shrieking profanities loud enough the gods themselves must have been able to hear.
Through it all, he heard Hikô's pleading voice entreating him to calm down, to please stop before he hurt someone, himself included. Those words only served to enrage him more. He suddenly stopped struggling, and looked Hikô straight in the eyes. His own eyes seemed to blaze crimson, and the red light on his knee flared blindingly bright.
"I'll see you in Hell," he hissed, and shoved Hikô back with all his strength, physical, mental, and spiritual.
Hikô fell back, startled, toward the riverbank. He tried to stop himself, but it was impossible. He reached the edge of the river and flailed helplessly for a few seconds before the ground dissolved under his feet and plunged him into the icy water.
Hôjun saw the ground give way under Hikô's feet, and time seemed to freeze. All the anger and hate melted away in that split second.
What have I done?! What have I done?!?! What have I done?!?!?! He lunged forward and grabbed Hikô's wrist before the older boy was even in the water. He fell face first to the ground, sickening cracking sensations in several parts of his ribcage. He was sprawled out on the rocky ground, one hand holding onto Hikô, trying to pull him in, but with no success. As the water tried to pull Hikô downstream, Hôjun's arm was brought crashing down against a rather large and hard chunk of rock sticking out into the water with an audible snap. He felt faint, the pain and fatigue in his body threatening to overwhelm him. He tried to pull Hikô up onto the bank again, but his broken arm wouldn't let him. All he could do was hang on and hope for a miracle.
"Hôjun!" Hikô cried, his voice high-pitched and wavering with terror and pain. "Tasukete! Onegai!"
"Hikô! I've got you! Just hold on!" Hôjun yelled back, wishing he could believe himself.
Movement to his left caught his attention. He turned his head, and his heart stopped. A large, jagged log was headed right for him. He couldn't move, even if he had had the time. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and clutch onto Hikô's hand as hard as he could.
An unearthly scream ripped through the air. The wooden spikes drove deep into his flesh, gouging out his eye and taking away the gods knew what else. Blood sprayed like water in the emperor's fountains. He instinctively brought his hands up to his face, attempting to shield it from further harm. Blood gushed from the wound, despite both hands trying to keep the blood from leaving his body.
Then, he remembered. Hikô. Hikô was gone. He looked up with his uninjured eye and frantically scanned the area. No sign of anyone but himself. He…he had let go…he had let Hikô go!
He felt exceedingly tired. He lacked even the strength to whimper his grief. His last thought before he collapsed limply to the saturated ground was, Hikô…Kôran…goodbye.
To be continued…Author's Notes: Well, that part's done. How was it? I'm very tired right now, and I don't have much to say this time except to send anything you have to say about the story to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!