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Death! Death! He cries and he dances the dance
See how my touch brings despair and my kiss is salvation none given!
~Shiozaki~
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Chapter 31
My true love hath my heart and I have his
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Somebody told him once that the body cannot live without the soul and the soul is powerless without the body. Each needs the other to survive, to live. Without one the other is meaningless. But this somebody had forgotten something else. Without the memories, the soul even when encased in a perfect shell is but a nameless someone. Memories guide us, foretelling our actions and shadowing our steps.
But it is even more than that also. It is the little things that makes you, you. The way you like to drink your tea. Your favourite color. The first thing you like to do when you get out of bed in the morning. With whom does your affection lie. All this, and more, defines the persona. The persona is the true driving force that makes an individual unique, instead of just another face in the crowd.
So you are the sum of a whole. Take away even a small piece, and you are an incomplete puzzle. You are less than who you were before.
Hard to conceive? Imagine then, a tapestry. A tapestry woven with many threads of many colors. Separate, these strands are as meaningful as dust upon the wind. Woven together, they tell a story that moves the heart, binds the soul and grieves the mind. Can it be said then, that a person is a person through the weave and color of his tapestry? That to know a person completely, is to behold the entire cloth and see it as a whole?
If so. . . .then he is no longer a person.
Nor a human even.
For if the tapestry is the definition of your identity, then he has none. His tapestry has been torn to shreds. The weave was cruelly pulled and twisted till it resembled nothing more than some unidentifiable trash you might find while cleaning under your sofa one day.
So his tapestry has been destroyed. He is no longer sane. He is no longer a person. He is no longer a human.
But then. . .it's just a simile, is it not?
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He no longer knew his name. But it doesn't matter. He has a purpose at least. A Purpose. Must not forget the capital 'P' can we? For it is an important Purpose. Yes, most important. Can't delay now can we? So let's begin.
First, we must identify where we are currently.
Mist. . .a baseless ground to trod upon. . . .no sound save for his own breathing. Is this important? He tilts his head to the side and tugs absently at a raven lock. No, it isn't important. He knows what he has to do to achieve this Purpose. All he has to do is just. . .call out?
He tries that. Oh yeah, no sound. Apparently even his voice has fallen to the laws of non-physics in this place or realm. But nevertheless, a Voice answers. Capital 'V', yes. Important as well. The Voice will help his Purpose.
You have awoken me.
'I did, did I?' he is amused.' Since I'm here and you're here then in-dee-dy I have indeed woken you up!' He twirls in a spot and falls over laughing soundlessly on the ground which is not a ground. 'That was bad of me I guess. Rude really, to wake you up from sleep. But I have a Purpose.'
A Purpose? The Voice is neither amused nor curious. Just repeating the obvious. Then if you have a Purpose, it is right that I was awakened. I was created for a Purpose and I will serve a Purpose. Tell me of yours then.
He is still amused. Apparently the Voice used a capital 'P' as well. 'I want to destroy the world', he says still in that most-amused tone. 'Will you do that? Will you help me destroy the world?'
If the Voice is alarmed, it is not shown. The Voice merely asks him, For what Purpose do you wish to destroy the world? Therein lies your true Purpose within your Purpose. Tell me, Insane One, why do you wish it so?
He stops giggling and rolls onto his stomach. Chin propped in his cupped hands, he swings his legs back and forth as he ponders the question with pursed lips. 'Why do I want to destroy the world?' he muses. 'I don't know. I think I forgot.' He shrugs. 'I just want to I guess. Seems fun!' he says brightly. 'Why did you call me the Insane One?'
He guessed that if the Voice had a form, it would have shrugged. I called you that because that is your true identity for now. You are insane. The Voice is blunt. Are you not?
'Umm. . .' he purses his lips again. 'Gee, I guess I am. Does it matter? Will you help me?'
It matters not who wields me as long as they can. I was built for a Purpose. I will be used for a Purpose. Good, evil, wrong, right; these concepts mean nothing to me. Do you have the Power to wield me?
He shrugs then jumps to his feet, brushing off the seat of his pants. 'Can't say till I've tried,' he says cheerfully.
That is true, the Voice concedes. Then, Insane One, try.
A form solidifying in the mist. Or rather, a form solidifying from the mist. It is a swirling vortex of energy that coalesces into matter and substance more real than even himself. It is long and slender. It's color, the blackest of all obsidians, jarred the paleness of the landscape like a bell that tolled or a even a screeching cry in the mist. He tilts his head again and tugs his hair childishly as he waits. When the last note or cry fades, only then did he reach out. His hand closes around the shaft in a firm grasp. A shock passes through his arm down his toes and up to his head with the contact. It might have been painful, had he still cared about such matters. He might have even cried out or fell to his knees.
He did nothing of that. He cared for nothing except fulfilling his Purpose. And his Purpose is really simple.
He lifts the Spear, for that was what it was, high into the air. The point jabs through the swirling mist and the vapours part like shredded silk. Where the tip touches, clear nothingness shone through. A shriek rents the air.
The smile he gave showed the utter aptness of the name given by the Voice. He is the Insane One. With a last giggle, he twirls the Spear around, point down, and jabs it straight into the ground that was not a ground.
The Earth screamed.
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The kekkai refused to be broken despite the barrage of spells that managed to be cast. With the appearance of the Ama-no-Nuboko, the remaining angels or demons, those that managed to still stay alive, promptly followed their charred brethren. Once again, the air was filled with the thick miasma of burnt, stinking flesh and smoking feathers. It would have made the remaining Shinigami retch once again, had they not been so enthralled with the sure destruction their former colleague had set off. As it is, they stirred themselves awake to mewl helplessly in fear and scramble back as far as they could. Those whose wits were still with them tried their best to stop Kyo but as before, all else failed.
Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Watari and Tatsumi were at the very edges of the kekkai, alongside Takashi and they worked the hardest to destroy it. But every spell, every ofuda failed to even crack the gleaming surface of the opalescent walls.
"This is not working!" Takashi cried out and dropped his katana. With his bare hands, he rushed forwards and started banging on the iridescent barrier. "Kyo! Listen to me! Please stop it! Kyo!"
Inside his own little cocoon, Kyo paid him no heed. He swayed on his feet again, oblivious even to Hino who was crouched behind him in abject fear. The Spear revolved slowly in the air, so real that it was practically unreal. It was never meant to be brought out into the world like this and the very elements cried out in agitation. Lightning forked the sky with thunder booming down. The waves roared up again in fury and the earth beneath their feet trembled.
"Takashi!" Watari shouted. The blond grabbed his arm while Tatsumi took the other, stopping his maddened attack. "It's no use! He's too far gone! Nothing you say will call him back! We have to get away now!"
Takashi whirled around and pinned Watari with a wild-eyed stare. "Then what do we do?" he cried out. "I can't leave him like this. I can't!"
"We have to go back to Meifu," Watari said reluctantly, eyes darting to Kyo who was still swaying, eyes closed and humming ecstatically. "Enma-Daioh has to be notified. He can help."
"It'll be too late!" Takashi stumbled as the earth gave a mighty shake. There was a deep, bone-jarring crack and the other standing Shinigami fell to the ground with curses. "I have to—" his eyes widened suddenly. "Kyo!" he screamed out. "No!"
Kyo had stopped his mindless dance and opened eyes that still blazed with unearthly light. With a grin, he reached out a hand and grasped the Spear.
Silence fell.
Once again, the wakened elements fell quiet. It's like a bloody switch, Takashi thought numbly as he got shakily to his feet with the others. The rest of the Shinigami stirred and huddled together in close, tight-knit groups, eyeing Kyo warily. Light show on, light show off, Takashi had to suppress the mad urge to giggle. He had a feeling that if he did, they'd probably think he had gone as insane as Kyo.
"What. . .what's going to happen?" a hoarse voice croaked out. Takashi turned his head to see Hisoka who had sidled up next to Watari, Tsuzuki close to his side. They were both watching Kyo closely. Kyo still held the Spear in his hand and he seemed transfixed by it. He didn't stir, not even when Hino got to his feet stealthily. But Takashi saw though, and despite the barrier in between, he pressed as close as he dared against it, ignoring the pain of contact and hissed, "What the hell are you doing?"
Hino started, flame eyes wide with fear. A knife had materialised in his hand. "He's gone too far," Hino mumbled. "I have to stop him. I didn't plan for this." He stood, face getting even paler and lifted the knife high in the air. Kyo didn't stir.
"No . . ." Takashi whispered. "No. . .don't!"
It might have been his shout, which rang loud amidst the stillness. It might have been that the Spear had given warning or even his skills kicking in. But whatever it was that alerted Kyo to the god behind, intent on killing him, Kyo reacted swiftly, with no hesitation.
The Spear whirled in his hands, shaft perpendicular to his body and with a wide grin, he jabbed the Spear back. Hino, who was about to let the knife descend, stiffened suddenly. Looking down, he saw that that the head of the Spear now rested several inches deep within his gut.
The immortal god could still bleed. The knife in his hand disappeared in a wisp of smoke. With shaky hands he grasped the shaft where it appeared from his flesh and tugged at it futilely. His blood was red. Like a human's. The Spear refused to budge.
"It hurts," Hino said in a voice that was as small as a child's. He looked up to the horrified Shinigami watching him with mouths agape. "I. . ." he gestured at the Spear. "I can't die. I'm Immortal."
"Looks like you're not anymore!" Kyo sang out. They jumped, Hino included and he shrieked in pain. With a wicked grin twisting his face, Kyo wrenched his arm back and the Spear slid out of flesh and bone with a sick crunch. Hino staggered back with the impact of release and his hands clutched futilely at the rapidly bleeding wound.
"I can't. . .I can't die," Hino mewled. "I can't. . . .I. . ." with denial still fresh on his lips, Hino crumpled to the ground. His artless pose was as boneless as the demon he had created to be a human. The face was as childlike even. They both were bewildered by their deaths which were never supposed to happen.
The silence continued for a full second. Without warning, there was a muffled 'whomp', a soundless detonation with Hino at its center, the ripples of shock spreading out. Though Kyo stood casually as though nothing happened, the others fell again. Even those that had yet to get up with the last earthquake flew back several feet. Added to this new confusion, there was a tearing shriek, a voiceless cry that rent the air and deep in their bones, they could feel a sudden shift in the world. It was as though the wheels and cogs that made up Creation had stalled suddenly, jammed stuck only to move again with an inherent piece that was missing.
A god had fallen.
This time, even Takashi could not move immediately. He lay still on the ground, flanked by Watari and Hisoka and blinked rapidly, trying to get back his bearings. Everything felt. . . wrong. There was no other word for it. What had happened was never meant to be. Just as it was never meant for a god to try to destroy the Balance, it was never meant to be that a god would die. But both instances had happened. Creation could not cope.
"My Purpose," a voice sang out. The voice held no traces of sanity in it and he shuddered to hear it. "Have to fulfil my Purpose, yes we must! Destroy destroy destroy!"
Like weary puppets forced to dance for the whims of an uncaring master, the Shinigami stumbled once again to their feet. Despair marred their moves and hopelessness clouded their faces. No words were exchanged as they watched Kyo dance around in his little kekkai, twirling the Spear negligently in his hands. Never had each Shinigami felt keenly the irony of the situation. The Gods of Death would now face their own death. They would be destroyed by none other than their own.
"It's not over yet," somebody rasped out. Again, the Shinigami jumped. Looking around, they saw that it was Tatsumi who spoke. His hair was beyond messy, dust and blood staining his clothes and streaking his skin. But they could not mistake the fire of determination in his eyes.
"It's not over yet," he repeated. "We still have time. Those who can, begin breaking down Onokoro's barriers immediately. The instant a breach is formed, those that can go through, must. They will be the ones to inform Enma-sama of this. Hopefully he can still stop this madness."
They stared at him in silence, Kyo's demented singing a stark counterpoint.
"Well?!" he barked suddenly. "What are you waiting for? Move!"
The note of authority was apparent. Trained Shinigami as they are, everyone jumped and carried out his order gladly. Chanting filled the air as the Shinigami concentrated on a spot of the barrier still surrounding the island. Watari, Tsuzuki, Hisoka and Tatsumi were about to join their efforts when they noticed one hanging back.
Takashi.
"Takashi?" Hisoka said gently. "We have to go. Tatsumi's right. We still have time. We can stop Kyo and En-"
"It's too late," Takashi said softly.
Hisoka started forwards, fierce light in his eyes. "No! It's not! We can still save him! You can't give up!"
Watari, Tsuzuki and Tatsumi appeared to agree with him. They too started forwards determinedly, as though intent on forcing him to come with them. Takashi merely shook his head faintly and took a step back. He didn't take his eyes off them but smiling faintly, he gestured behind him.
In a still soft voice, he said, "He's begun."
They didn't need to ask how he was sure. A sudden bright light grew from behind him, right inside Kyo's little kekkai. The light was a soft white at first but was growing in intensity. Like a living thing, they could feel the force of that light as it began to spill out form the barrier, a slow encroaching that engulfed everything in its path like an inexorable tsunami, Kyo and the Spear disappearing inside with boy still dancing. The more light that spilled out, the more force they could feel until they were practically staggering back. The chanting Shinigami behind them faltered off rhythm until a shout from Tatsumi had them starting again.
"Takashi!" Hisoka said suddenly. He quickened his steps and held his hands out. "No! Don't! There's nothing you can do! The Spear was never meant for a mortal! You'll destroy yourself!"
With a last, soft smile, Takashi shook his head. "I can't leave him."
And he ran.
Right into the swelling light.
Hisoka screamed. "Takashi! No!"
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to be continued
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My true love hath my heart and I have his
By just exchange one for the other given
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss
There never was a better bargain driven
His heart in me keeps me and him in me
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides
He loves my heart for once it was his own
I cherish his, because in me it hides
His heart his wound received from my sight
My heart was wounded with his wounded heart
For as from me on him his hurt did light
So still methought in me his hurt did smart
Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss
My true love hath my heart and I have his