Ch. 3
Day. Night. These words hold no meaning for him. How can they? But perhaps they did at one point, perhaps some dim memory flits in the corner of his brain, for rice-paper windows recessed in dark ghost-walls sometimes brighten, as if there were a sun behind them, and sometimes darken, as if all had abandoned him. He has tried tearing at these ghost-paper windows before, when he can summon the energy; they will not give.
He used to like it when they brightened, though, used to like pretending there was a sun there, even if he could neither see it nor feel its warmth. Now he despises it. The sun is a cruel eye, dodging him, mocking him with its almost-presence, and he, this pallid, colorless denizen of the shadows is so repulsive, it will not even reveal itself to taunt him. And then, there is also this-- she is awake right now. Perhaps his lazy, half-lidded eyes would make him appear indifferent to any observer, but he knows he is all but on fire, waiting for her, waiting for her, watching as the rice paper's glow gradually… almost imperceptibly… dims.
"Good evening, Kakyou-kun!" A voice coos in his ear, and all trace of ennui is banished. He is more alert than he has been in years, and before he realizes it, he has scrambled to his feet. He is… standing. If he had any unused portion of his brain with which to marvel at this, with which to trace back how long it's been since he last stood in the dreamscape, he would probably collapse again from astonishment. But fortunately, one cannot dwell on such trivialities as drawing ever closer to the world of the living when one has something better at hand.
"Good evening, Hokuto-chan," he murmurs shyly, a wonderful, spontaneous smile lighting his features at her return. She came back, she is with him again, all is so marvelously right. Besides, the outfit the dreamscape has clothed her in-- a bright pink jacket with marabou-feather collar, plus matching gloves and a flouncy pink and green striped skirt-- well, it would warm the heart of even the coldest of detached observers. And while he once would have described himself as such, not anymore. "Was… I hope your day pleasant?"
"Oh, yes," she smiles, "Subaru-kun-- my brother-- and I met Seishirou-san for lunch. He's a friend of ours, it was very nice." Still smiling, she shrugs her shoulders almost coyly. "Although maybe I teased Subaru-kun a little too much, he was as red as a beet by the time we left. And Seishirou-san is as shameless as I am, between the two of us poor Subaru-kun really had a hard time!" Her laughter ripples towards him as some airborne nectar, and he listens with the intensity of one trying to save every last nuance for later recollection, intoxicating himself so thoroughly, he does not notice the spark of jealousy at her mention of a man she obviously enjoys spending time with. But jealousy-- even if it were recognized-- is so new to him, it would pass unremarked, no matter what. And who could bring the bright-eyed, living ghost in front of him to task? Even if he were not mortally afraid of wounding her, or angering her to abandonment of him, he still would not want to stem the flow of delicious words. "And how was your day, Kakyou-kun? I meant to ask you-- if you don't mind-- do you ever wake in the real world? Or…"
"I'm… in a coma," he replies, hesitating ever so slightly at the idea of boring her with the details of his own life. "I'm not sure why, I've never been able to see it. But I know nothing can wake me, I am fated to this sleep-- until… the Promised Day." He falls silent again, and winces at the distinct feeling that he has said too much. Why-- why on Earth should he speak of destruction when with her? Why call such destruction when staring into the eyes of Life herself?
And then he curses himself, for the smile drops from her face and her eyes widen in frightened surprise. "You too are involved in the battle for the Earth?" She bows her head and confesses, "So is my brother Subaru… his fate has been named as a Seal, while I am never mentioned in the prophecies. But if I cannot be there to help him, then what will happen? I'm so afraid for him. What-- what will happen on that day--" Her voice trembles with the weight of suppressed tears, the distress she has always tended so carefully and so far away from view finally rushing up to the surface. For now, to learn that her new friend is also bound by such a fate, may well die, while she herself must sit helplessly by… it brings back all her fears, too many to be concealed.
Some distant part of him knows he must stop this now. He must speak no more of fate, of humanity's death or the year 1999. But he cannot leave this silence to grow into the monster it threatens to become, cannot leave her tears trembling on the edge of being. Cannot lie to her. And so the words come, ripping apart the fragile happiness he has tried so hard to create. "Nothing good. I have seen nothing good happen, for any man or woman, on that day. I…" his eyes slowly close in misery, the too-familiar tang of helplessness creating a sour taste in his mouth, "I'm sorry, Hokuto-chan."
Her breath catches, and she stares up at him again, making the impossible, yet inevitable connection in her mind. "You have… seen… your dreaming powers give you the ability to see into the future." Her hands are ice-cold on his cheeks as she desperately cups his face, begging, "Show me, Kakyou-kun! Show me what happens to the Kamui my brother must protect, what happens to the Earth!"
His eyes fly open, fully open, and reflect her stare with utter horror. Danger, his mind and body are screaming, she cannot know all this, you cannot tell her! "N-- no," he stammers, "Hokuto-chan, you don't want to see…" But his eyes have connected with an intense green gaze as hard as emeralds, as determined as the very Earth, and he knows he speaks falsely. His goddess has beseeched him. He must answer.
Around them, the room's dull tones drop away, become the speckled, grimy white of a concrete roof that looks out over a broken Tokyo cowering under furious, thundering skies. She gasps as an immense red dragon, pure crackling energy, tears itself out of the Earth and rushes towards a twin of blinding blue, roaring out its battle challenge as the two lock in deadly embrace. She screams as another writhing mass of twined blue and red collapses heavily on a bridge, dragging it down and sending out shockwaves that cause buildings blocks away to crack and shatter like so much porcelain. But his ancient, tired eyes are accustomed to this sight, have been dragged through it time and time again; he is not looking. He is staring behind them, craning his neck to see the exact moment when-- "Now! Hokuto-chan, look!"
She whirls around, face already haggard and shocked from the destruction she has seen, and has no sounds left for the sight she now views. Two men, identical save for the enormous white, feathered wings of one and the black, webbed wings of the other, battle each other with ceremonial swords as they soar through the air. Dimly, she hears his voice over the frenzied sounds of destruction and rumble of constant thunder. "The one with black wings is your brother's Kamui. The other-- his twin star. And while your Kamui fights for the preservation of the human race, his opponent fights for its very death, and the ensured survival of the Earth. Truth to tell, whether your brother lives or dies makes no difference-- it is only the winner of this battle who can determine the outcome of the war."
As if his words are her permission to make sound once more, she gasps and sobs once, harshly, as humanity's Kamui takes a horrific blow and staggers on nothing, collapsing heavily into Tokyo tower. His twin follows with cruel smile and delighted eye, sensing blood, sensing the end, sensing his own victory. Humanity's Kamui pulls himself up any way he can, sweeping his sword out in instinctive parry to the other's deadly swing.
His Holy Sword, his Shinken, his last and greatest weapon.
It cracks.
Eternity holds them all, fighters and watchers alike, in its agonizing embrace.
Humanity's Kamui freezes in horror as time returns to them, as his sword shatters in a rain of metallic slivers, as Earth's Kamui runs him through with one thrust, as red lightning blazes across a darkened sky, as the dream room whirls back into view, as she screams and screams and cannot stop screaming--
She dazedly swims back to consciousness to find tears already streaming down her cheeks, her hands clinging to him, her own body in his arms. She cannot stop crying; what she has seen dismisses that notion out of hand. But gradually, from the fact that he is rocking her desperately and whispering over and over to please not cry, please not cry, please not cry, she realizes he is trying to comfort her. It does not work; comfort is a way of hiding from what is savage or unpleasant, and there is no hiding from this savage dream.
"I'm so sorry, Hokuto-chan," he continues, voice cracking with terrified worry that he has ruined her, that he has reduced her to his level, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have shown that to you, I shouldn't have--"
She gets herself enough in control to lay a finger solemnly on his lips, requesting and receiving silence. A few more moments of sobbing, a bitter cough, and her voice, too, is sufficiently controlled to speak without rasping or further hysterics. "No. You had to, and I… thank you. I needed to see that. Now… I know." She is not so in control that she can entirely suppress her convulsive shudder, instinctive reaction to the visceral images she has just seen, but her eyes have lost the horror and the overwhelming fear, and once again hold unshakable determination. "I've seen what may happen. So now I know exactly what I must prevent, what I must stay and help my brother do. Thank you, Kakyou-kun."
"Hokuto-chan," he falters, so taken aback by this direct assault on his most fundamental rule that he does not even realize that he is holding her as any brash young man would, does not even flush and drop his arms. "H-- Hokuto-chan, you can't. It's fate, it can't be prevented--"
A firm shake of her head stops his weakly begun protest. "No. Nothing is indelible; this too can be changed. I swear I will do all I can to stop that future from coming about." Then her face changes to sad empathy, and she draws close to him again, murmuring, "But I'm so sorry for you, Kakyou-kun, if all your life you've been forced to dream such nightmares."
Now, he knows. He is holding her, they are embraced as closely as lovers, but he would not let her go now for all the world. He can't even readily identify what he is feeling, why he clings to her like this, nor can he summon the words with which to reply. But if he could, he would say: I am not sorry, if the power that brings me those nightmares is also what allows me to see such beautiful visions as you.