A/N: This chapter took a while to be written because truthfully, I felt NO inclination to do it. Hell, my inspiration was as dried up as the Sahara. In fact, whenever I opened up MSWord and tried to type it out, all I wanted to do was sleep. I had to admit, I was even entertaining the idea of just abandoning the story where it stopped. It was THAT bad.
But hey! All's well and good now! My Inspiration Well has filled up once again and voila! Chapter 15. Hope you guys will enjoy it!
Oh hey, has anyone read/seen the new manga by CLAMP called "XXXholic"? Any idea what it's about? Man, I wish I can read Japanese. . .
Warning: erm. . . .Stuff. A hint of lemon but that's it really. Nothing graphic so feel free to read till the very end all you I'm-Allergic-To-Lemons people you ^__^
Disclaimer: I'm tired of doing this.
* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *
Chapter 15
Part I
It's All Psychosomatics Really
* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *
He was aware of an intense pressure; pressure that pushed against every pore and grain until he felt that everything that was inside, would turn outside. Yet at the same time, he was flying free in nothingness, weighing nothing more than a speck of dust windborne.
He was also aware of the cold; cold that gave the word an altogether new meaning. A kind of cold that went from mere sensation to intense pain. It followed the pressure that still seek to gain entry but where pressure failed, the cold past through with little effort. It planted spiked feet into the very marrow of his bones. Yet at the same time, he was above all sensation. He felt nothing.
He was aware of being intensely alive.
He was also aware of being dead.
* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *
"C'mon Takashi! Breathe!"
Hand were pushing, pounding against his back. He was somewhat aware of having his cheek pressed into soft mattress that yielded under the battering his body was currently suffering from. That insistent voice was still harping on about how he had to breathe goddammit.
Why would he need to breathe? His chest was lying perfectly still under the onslaught; not a whisper of breath passing through dead lungs and he was perfectly fine. So why the hell with all the shouting and the hitting?
A thought prodded the milky swamp of his consciousness, much like a stick poked tentatively through oil-slicked waters. Rainbow lights swirled and danced under the agitation and reluctantly, he let the thought surface.
A scrap of memory from one of those mind-bending discussions he and Watari would indulge in from time to time. Discussions that ranged the issues from medicine, science, life, death, the paranormal and why chocolates could make Tsuzuki and Kyo sprout animalistic attributes. These discussions would usually result with Kyo whining at him that he was bored and could they please talk about something else?
It's a beautiful thing, the soul, Watari had said thoughtfully. It's what gives meaning to what otherwise would just be physical matter spun and tied together with the flimsiest threads that DNA, carbon and oxygen could produce. What would have just been animated mass became a meaningful animated mass.
The soul is the memory. The personality. The life that burns behind the eyes. The entity that lived because it wanted to live. Though being such a powerful essence, the soul was pathetically fragile. Besides the laws pf physics and matter, the laws of mystery, mythology and pure magic governed it as well. Far from just the body needing the soul to truly live, the soul needed the body to truly live itself. Without the protection of a shell, the soul is vulnerable to the very things that created it and also the very things that were damned because of it.
If the soul had no shell, no protective armor, it would lose everything that made it unique in the first place. The memories, the personality, the life. All that remained would be a mindless, twisted ectoplasm that lived for no other reason than to not be banished into the very dark it strives to run away from.
That's where the Shinigami comes in, you see. We were once human. Humans who were forced to give up our earthly flesh but refused to move on to find the true joy of death. We that were restless, and having the power inherent, were chosen to bring solace to those who do seek it. But since we've given up our clay vessel, we are no more powerful than the stray souls we seek to redeem ourselves.
So we're given new vessels. A temporary body you might say. Temporary but very useful. Heals almost all wounds, regenerates faster than the mortal flesh and we stay forever immortal.
Until the vessel is damaged beyond repair that is.
Oh yes, it can be damaged, this perfect body. Though a slash to the jugular would heal in an instant, imagine the effect if said knife was run all the way through till it severed capillaries, arteries, muscle, tendons and inevitably, the spinal cord.
You'd probably find yourself on the receiving end of the ofuda instead of the other way around.
How about drowning? Hmm. . .tricky. . .though you have technically drowned (and thus, died), your body still retains the ability to heal once it is out of the water. Get the water out, get the lungs moving and hey presto! You're up and walking! Though, I imagine it'd be a tad bit uncomfortable if said body had been "dead" for too long. After all, nothing is truly immortal. The soul moves the body and the body moves the soul. Can't have one without the other, ne, Takashi?
The rainbow shimmers died and the milky swamp was still once more. But underneath the murkiness, something was stirring. Something that sent agitated ripples through the oil and tugged insistently at a wandering and bemused mind. The ultimate gist of the memory had finally struck a chord and without a doubt, Takashi knew he was in deep shit.
Oh.
Guess that would make it quite imperative for him to start breathing then. He didn't know how long he had been under but from the little he could gather of his colleagues' reactions, it must have been pretty long. He figured that now would be a good time to start breathing again.
What the brain and soul decided, the body interpreted into action.
His lungs kicked to life and he opened his mouth to take a deep. . .gasp. Water was still floating around merrily in his body somewhere and he hacked it all up. He coughed and coughed wretchedly, trying to bring in air instead of puking up water but his body insisted it knew what was best for it. His friends seemed pretty happy though. The pounding had stopped and glad cries filled the air.
"That's it! You're doing great Takashi!"
He coughed, choked, spluttered, hacked; generally, doing everything that the thesaurus would indicate that was synonymous to the action of trying to puke your guts out.
Finally, after his intestines had tied themselves into intricate Christmas ribbons, he was able to take in a deep, cleansing breath that did not result in him acting like a water fountain. Delayed reaction finally set in. Now that his lungs had started again their original function, his body started to shudder uncontrollably, the shivers wracking his frame and he curled up into a pathetic wet ball.
Someone, probably Watari from the white and gold that filled his blurred vision, brushed back his sopping wet bangs and his eyesight gradually grew clearer. Someone else took pity and dumped a load of warm blankets over him and he curled gratefully under it.
"Takashi?" asked Watari. "You back with us?"
". . .'Tari," he managed to croak out after a few tries.
"Thank Enma for that," the blond sighed. Watari took the mug that was offered and with someone else's help, got Takashi to sit up somehow and sip the hot tea. The liquid burned a fiery path down his gullet and effectively chased away the last of the little icicles that clung stubbornly to his innards. Almost, he could see wisps of steam curling out from his ears.
Like drinking Pepper Up potion, his abstracted and slightly hysterical mind offered. He had been reading too many Harry Potter novels lately. It was Kyo's fault. The boy was in love with the book and had read each one at least a dozen times and could quote whole paragraphs from memory.
"Kyo?" he asked hoarsely.
Deathly silence fell like a bombshell in the room. Everyone stilled and for a second, no one moved or dared to even breathe.
Until Tatsumi, he could tell from the combination of browns and creamy white (his eyes were still a bit painful), who was the unofficial Bearer of Bad News took a hesitant step to his bedside.
There was the slightest hint of a tremor in his voice. For Tatsumi, that was quite frightening by itself.
"Takashi. . ." he started hesitantly. "We found out about your disappearance from Kyo and immediately launched a search party. Kyo accompanied myself and Watari by my orders and we searched for you for hours.
We kept a close eye on him since he wasn't looking too well but I swear," Tatsumi's voice shook even more, "We barely took our eyes off of him and he. . .also disappeared. One minute he was there and the next. . .we searched until noon but found no trace of either of you. That's when the. . .messenger came. It told us where you were kept and true to its word, we found you and we brought you straight back to Meifu." Tatsumi fell silent after his little explanation.
Takashi stared at him uncomprehendingly. He was sure the secretary was missing a few important details from his explanation. Like, where the hell was Kyo. If they found him, surely they found Kyo as well right?
I hate you. I love him more than anything else in the world. I would go through hell, I have gone through hell for him but instead of me, he chose YOU. You don't deserve him! I do! He doesn't belong to you anymore sensei!
"Kyo?" he repeated again.
A little voice in the back of his head mentioned that Tatsumi's hands were shaking and Watari's eyes were red-rimmed.
"I'm sorry, Takashi-san," Tatsumi held himself stiffly. "The messenger also said that Kyo-kun. . .Kyo is not coming back."
* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *
Chapter 15
Part II
Correspondences
* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *
From the Great King, He who is Lord of the Ten, Enma-Daioh
Set and sealed by the Hands of the Shiroku
Re: Shokan Division Shinigami, Shiozaki Kyo (Class A, Type II)
The above matter is referred.
Your application for the removal of all active staff of the Shokan Division to initiate the search for the currently missing Shinigami mentioned above is hereby approved. Please note that the duration of only fourteen (14) days from this date is allowed for this search. After the stated time ends, all Shinigami are to return to normal duty.
Should the Shinigami in question is not found within the stipulated time period, no appeals for extension is allowed.
As Recorded,
Enma-Daioh
________________________________________________________________________
From the Great King, He who is Lord of the Ten, Enma-Daioh
Set and sealed by the Hands of the Shiroku
Re: Appeal For Extension of Time For Search Mission
The above is referred.
As stated in the last missive, no such appeal is allowed. All Shinigami are to return to their respective blocks. Any who chooses to disobey this order will face disciplinary action.
As Recorded,
Enma-Daioh
________________________________________________________________________
From the Great King, He who is Lord of the Ten, Enma-Daioh
Set and sealed by the Hands of the Shiroku
Re: Shokan Division Shinigami, Matsumada Takashi (Class B, Type I)
The above is referred.
Taking into account the circumstances regarding the abovementioned Shinigami and the currently missing Shinigami Shiozaki Kyo, we are prepared to overlook the breach of the ruling as stated in the missive before in regards to the ending of the search mission as perpetrated by Shinigami Matsumada Takashi.
However, should the Shinigami Matsumada Takashi continue to flout the ruling, his status as a Shinigami will be revoked including all rights pertaining thereunto. Please be advised.
As Recorded,
Enma-Daioh
_______________________________________________________________________
From the Great King, He who is Lord of the Ten, Enma-Daioh
Set and sealed by the Hands of the Shiroku
Re: Status of Shinigami Shiozaki Kyo
The above is referred.
After deliberation, the Ten Kings Council have agreed that the Shinigami Shiozaki Kyo is not to be held responsible for breaking contract in his duties as a Shinigami. Until such time as decided, his status as a Shinigami is to be maintained.
As of now until the current situation is rectified, the Shinigami Shiozaki Kyo is filed as Missing In Action.
As Recorded,
Enma-Daioh
________________________________________________________________________
He opened his eyes to see pure darkness.
Panic tore through him and he gasped in stuttered fear before logic finally asserted itself and he calmed down enough to realize where he was exactly.
He was in his bedroom.
The sheets had gotten rumpled beneath him and the covers were twisted around his bare legs. The nightmare had seem quite real. Slowly, he let his breathing slowed to a harsh rasp and finally, a soft murmur that barely broke the stillness of the night.
The shoji was opened, letting in a freshening night wind and tinkled the wind chimes that hung from the lintel playfully. The soft sweet sounds of summer were reflected in the minute clangs of the clapper against delicate glass, an inanimate counterpoint to the chirping of the cicadas.
Tension flowed out of his body and he sank gratefully into the mattress. A nightmare that bad was not a regular occurrence and it always took him a while to shake off the effects. Briefly, he wondered again of the cause of the nightmare. Always, upon waking, the nightmare would dissolve and tatter around the edges until he could hardly recall what it was exactly that had plagued his sleep. It must have been something quite vivid though. Sometimes, he would wake up with tears streaming down his face.
He sighed and rand a hand through his sweat-streaked hair. Instead of the usual sadness and melancholy after a session of his vague nightmares, this time, he had woken up with a feeling of fear. Intense fear that overlaid an undercurrent of anger so strong, he had only just managed to restrain himself from lashing out when he woke up.
"Stupid dreams," he muttered and with another sigh, this time of dejection, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. It was no use contemplating of going back to sleep. He never could afterwards.
His bare feet padded silently over the wooden floor as he made his way over to the opened screen. Despite his nakedness, he walked confidently to the balcony that fronted the bedroom and leaned against the wooden frame of the screen. A garden and a high wall encircled the area so he was quite safe from a wakeful neighbour's curious eyes. He chuckled silently at what old Madam Miyazaki would say if she saw him in his current state of undress. The aged matron would probably throw a fit if she did. Though he doubted the young grand-daughter, Kimi, would mind.
The wind played up again, a chorus of sweet chimes rose in answer and he closed his eyes in appreciation as the cicadas upped their orchestra to rise to the challenge. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, probably a few minutes, maybe more, when a pair of slim arms encircled his waist from behind, hugging him tight.
"Why aren't you in bed?" the voice he loved so much was husky with sleep and he felt a tinge of guilt for waking his wife up.
He turned in the embrace and gave a hug of his own, running his hands over equally-bare back and kissing the peach-scented hair.
"Gomen, Aya-chan, for waking you up," he smiled winningly.
"You had another nightmare didn't you." The straightforward statement caused his smile to slip a notch and he pouted down to his wife whose eyes glared at him from a point just beneath his chin.
"You know me to well, Aya-chan," he sighed dramatically. "Can't a husband keep a few secrets from a loving wife?"
"No," she smiled wickedly and poked his ribs until he yelped with laughter. "Do you remember what the dream was about?" Concern replaced the teasing in her voice and once again, the guilt nagged at him for causing the worry to be there in the first place.
"I don't," he admitted. "It's as vague as ever."
Silence cloaked them for a while, her cheek pressed against his warm chest as her head rose and fell with each steady breathing. He played with the strands of her hair, now hanging past her waist like a silken waterfall. As he let the silk slide between his fingers, his body responded easily to their nearness and he felt an invasive heat flush him from head to toe.
He could practically feel her smile.
"I don't know about you," she said softly, "but I don't really feel like going back to sleep now."
"You don't?" his breath hitched ever so slightly as she ran light fingers over his chest, down to his stomach, and her hands rested suggestively innocent against his thigh.
"No, I really don't feel like sleeping," she laughed softly and tipped her head up for a kiss.
Long minutes were spent in delightful pleasure as they kissed, the nightmare soon forgotten in a haze of pleasure that steadily burned brighter. Before he realized it, she was lying on her back on the wooden floor of the balcony, wrapping her legs around him and trapping him there when he suggested they continue somewhere that was more comfortable for her.
"I'm perfectly fine right here," she arched an eyebrow and with a wicked grin, thoroughly distracted him from any other protest he might have made.
They made love with an easy passion that never dimmed throughout the years. It was familiar, it was comforting yet it was also as new and as raw as the first time they spent in each other's arms. He felt himself spiral upwards in a dizzying rush but held himself back until she bucked underneath him and cried out his name. Feeling her shudders and little gasps, he lost control and the world exploded in colors that blinded him and seared his body through and through.
For some time, they lay on the floor, she protected in the gentle curve of his arms until their breathing slowed and the cicadas and the wind chime resumed their song. He stirred himself and gathered her close, placing a gentle kiss on her mouth.
"I love you, Ayame."
"I love you too, Kyo."
* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *
~to be continued~
* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *
A/N: Bad, bad Ayame.
Shiroku is said to be the one who records Enma's judging. I tried to go for a more realistic look to the official letters from Enma but one can only do so much with the limited formatting FF.net has. . .sigh. . .Still, I thought it presented a rather bare and cold counterpoint to the agony that the Shinigami must have felt when searching for Kyo. . . Sadistic me.
PS: For anyone who's paying attention to my FAKE fic. . . .er. . .sorry? Don't worry, I wll update soon. Like I mentioned above, my inspiration left me high-and-dry for a while but I'm alright now! Yay! ^__^;; I'll try to update it in a few days. After all, Lemon-Aid (remember her? ^__^) DID help me figure out when it would be appropriate for Dee and Ryo to jump into the sack after that chapter in the hospital *giggle*.
PPS: Hey, hey, hey! I'm currently planning a TB/X fic. It's gonna be a bit AU while still sticking as best as it could to the major structure of TB/X. Think I should go for it? It'd be my first time "doing" (hehehe) Seishirou and Subaru. . .*starts panicking* Argh!
Ah, enough blabbing. Review me. This poor reviewaholic is deprived. ^^