A/N: Hey, I'm finally able to say something! First off, let me just thank everyone for their most supporting reaction to the last few chapters. It warms my heart to see so many people cursing me like that ^__^ . It just goes to show how Kyo and Takashi have managed to worm their way into your hearts and it's a deep honour!
Review replies:
Everyone who reviewed! Thank you so much for your support! Eria: will Ehren forgive me now? And Midnight Shadow: wan! New reader! And you've read everything! Thank you so much! More K x T Lovers!
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Chapter 33
Love and Hate are two sides of the same coin
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For Tatsumi Seiichiro, patience came at an early age. Even before he learned to do his multiplications, Tatsumi was a master in controlling his emotions. Living with his mother taught him that. It taught him many things as well; that love came with a price and that insanity lurks ever so close to the surface. These three lessons were slapped to his face again today, as he sat stiffly on a plush cushion.
He could feel the eyes of all ranking members of the JuuOhCho trained on him as well as his colleagues. The Shinigami were arrayed in a line to the left of Enma-Daioh, directly opposite the authorities of Meifu's working government. The space between was left clear except for a slightly raised dais before Enma himself. A dais that held the body of his colleague. Matsumada Takashi.
Forcing his eyes to remain on the clenched fists in his lap, Tatsumi desperately chanted mentally every calming cantrip his sensei had taught him. Patience was again the cornerstone of this part of his life. Those who failed to master his emotions would never be able to gain the ability to control shadows. Yet today, Tatsumi felt he was failing his position of such a master. He saw again, in place of a dead colleague, his mother's wide unseeing eyes and the blood that marred the rich, yet faded kimono. He wanted to break down and cry.
The Hall of the Dead was as quiet as a tomb, no pun intended. The body of a Shinigami that lay in the silent slumber of the deceased was a sharp reminder of what had transpired barely a day before. Enma himself was a still deity, clad in robes of shimmering white with gold threadwork that failed to catch the light and glimmer; so controlled was his pose. The formality of his robes were not lost upon anyone. Enma was prepared to preside over a trial. The trial of one of his own.
Because of the unusual circumstances that surrounded the event, the Judgment was not held in Enma's usual courtroom. For this, he would use his own Hall.
Tatsumi did not know how long they sat there in tense silence. He stared blindly down, fingers so tightly clenched, he could feel little points of pain stinging his palm. Watari by his left was a ball of tightly wound emotions and Kanoe on his right was just as stiffly poised. At some undetected signal, Enma barely stirred as he lifted a languid hand.
"Bring in the accused." His tone was inflectionless. His face, a calm mask.
The far doors of the Hall swung open on silent hinges. Three figures, shrouded in darkness walked in, though the one in the middle seem to be having trouble walking. His steps were shuffling and awkward, his head hung low. The only light in the Hall illuminated just the immediate area around Enma. As such, the gathering only saw the three clearly as they stepped into that pool of light. There was a sudden, shocked gasp and Tatsumi snapped his head up quickly. There was a painful lump in his throat as he took in the visage that was his colleague.
Kyo stood, or rather, swayed dreamily between his two guards. What had everyone shocked was the way he was restrained. Long ribbons of paper, painted with the strongest wards that ofuda magic could offer were wound tightly around his body, leaving only his legs free. His hands were similarly bound before him and his mouth and eyes were bound shut as well. The significance of such precautions was understood immediately and eyes swivelled between the swaying prisoner and the still body before Enma. Once again, accusing stares were fixed on the Shinigami. Tatsumi noticed peripherally that the other Shinigami were careful to leave some space between those who had worked closely with Kyo and Takashi. They were the outcast.
I've failed the two of them. Just like I failed Mother. And Tsuzuki. I failed. Cerulean blue eyes glimmered with unshed tears.
"Shinigami Shiozaki Kyo, Class A Level 2."
Tatsumi started in surprise. His eyes darted to a shadowy corner where the herald usually stood in normal proceedings. Instead of the usual suit and tie secretary of the Shiroku, a shadowed individual stood to Enma's near right. He was clothed in a white kimono, the voluminous robes concealing any manner that hinted at his identity. Not even the light managed to penetrate the shadows that hid his face utterly from sight. Tatsumi's stomach clenched in sudden realisation and fear. It was Enma's personal herald.
The two guards, their ceremonial ancient armour clinking sullenly as they stood at attention snapped straight and thumped the butts of their spears once in perfect unison on the tatami floor. Kyo in between them let out a muffled giggle and gauntleted hands tightened their grips and forced his dreamy swaying to still. Kyo went on giggling despite the gag and the obviously painful grip.
The herald went on, voice as emotionless as the god he served. "You stand here today before the Court of Enma, he who presides over Death and Final Judgment, for the crimes you have perpetrated against humanity and the Realm of the Dead. How do you plead?"
The muffled giggling went on. Enma's pale hand again lifted in a bare gesture and if possible, his voice was even colder. "Remove the accused's gag and blindfold. Let him see his accusers and let him speak his defense."
The guard on Kyo's left bowed briefly to Enma. He quickly and efficiently, pulled the paper chain ofudas from Kyo's eyes and mouth. The boy stopped his giggling to blink bemusedly as his now, almost white eyes adjusted to the light. He shook his head briefly, the once black hair now shot through with thick swathes of white flying every which way. He cocked his head to the side quizzically, lifting up his still bound hands to stare at them. Kyo flexed his fingers experimentally. They barely moved, so tight were the paper chains. He giggled again.
"Bow to your god," the guard to Kyo's right intoned angrily.
Kyo ignored him in favour of studying his hands.
"Bow to your god," the guard insisted. The Hall's occupants were nearly breathless with anticipation as they waited for what would happen next. Bodies leaned forward eagerly, the better to see the show, eyes bright with malice. It wasn't hard for Tatsumi to see the avarice in their faces that greedily waited what is surely the downfall of the powerful Shinigami. The herald was silent and Enma's face was shuttered.
The guard's face underneath his helm flushed with indignation as Kyo dared to ignore his order. He raised a mailed fist and abruptly, it swung down to strike a heavy blow against Kyo's back. With a startled cry that was echoed by Tatsumi, Watari. Tsuzuki and Hisoka, Kyo fell to his knees, his hands awkwardly breaking his fall. Kyo shook his head again and looked around, a confused expression on his face as though he finally realised where he was. The guard was about to lift his hand for another strike when a cold voice stopped him.
"Desist." The note of authority was complete and the guard instantly obeyed, face flushing again as he realised he now faced Enma's displeasure. He and his partner bowed hastily and even before they completed their obeisance, Enma's mysterious attendants materialised, faces still obscured despite stepping into the light and they herded the two guards out of the Hall.
Kyo stayed on his knees, fingers unconsciously flexing in his bonds. His bemused gaze finally fell on the still figure that laid in quiet repose before Enma and he let out a crow of delight.
"Taka!" He crawled on bound hands and knees, stumbling in his eagerness and not a few scrambled back in fear, even though he was far from any of them. Tatsumi watched with apprehensive eyes as Kyo stumbled to Takashi's side. The boy reached out and shook Takashi's shoulder impatiently. "Taka!"
Takashi did not stir, eyes still closed. Kyo's lower lip stuck out, trembling in a pout and he shook Takashi insistently. "Taka, wake up! I missed you. How come you weren't with me last night?"
The herald stirred and again, intoned, "You stand here today before the Court of Enma, he who presides over Death and Final Judgment, for the crimes you have perpetrated against humanity and the Realm of the Dead. How do you plead?"
Kyo blinked, looking up to Enma who regarded him back with an indecipherable expression on his ageless face. Something in Enma's eyes must have struck a chord or triggered a memory as he crouched down closer to Takashi, hugging the body close to him.
"What do you want?" Kyo asked in a trembling voice. "Are you going to take Taka away?" The pale eyes widened in fear. "You can't! He's mine!"
Tatsumi wanted to shut his eyes and muffle his ears. How could they think to hold a trial against Kyo when he was like this? The boy's completely out of his mind and would never understand the charges levelled against him. This wasn't fair! Enma is the God of Death and Judgment! He should know better than any the unfairness of the proceedings yet he himself was letting it go on.
I have to do something, Tatsumi thought desperately. Anything. But what?
His breath caught in his throat when Enma finally stirred in his seat, leaning forward to snare Kyo in his unblinking gaze. The pale hand was lifted again and Tatsumi tensed himself for a blow, a strike against a helpless colleague. The tumultuous feelings warred against the memories of Enma's earlier kindness and affection in his face to face dealings with the Shinigami. Surely all of that meant something?
The hand moved slowly, as though trying to corner a wary animal and Kyo crouched down closer to Takashi, eyeing the descending hand just like a wild animal. His body was tense, poised in that familiar junction of fight or flight. His eyes darted nervously from the hand to Takashi. Kyo let loose a soft whimper, his need to stay with Takashi overriding any instinct to flee from that threatening hand. Just when it seemed that Kyo would break from the tension, Enma placed his hand gently on the crown of Kyo's head. He stilled, as did Kyo. Mortal and god stared deep into each other's eyes for a long moment before a small smile broke across Enma's face. In an unmistakable gesture, Enma slowly patted Kyo's salt-and-pepper hair.
Tatsumi and the other Shinigami blinked rapidly in confusion. How did Enma knew that? That such a gesture was one of the few things in the world which could comfort a distraught Kyo? They then mentally kicked themselves. Enma was a god. Of course he would know. But the others viewed this latest development with growing unease and displeasure. Enma, after a promising start, was showing affection against an accused. Mutterings filled the Hall, a discontent that stirred unease like a demon wind.
But Kyo and Enma both ignored the disruption. Eyes half closed in pleasure, Kyo butted the hand playfully and Enma's soft smile grew wider.
Enma whispered, "Let the trial commence."
And the world shifted.
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There was no other word for it. The world did shift. It might have moved millimetres from its position. It might have moved thousands of miles. The shift was a bare second that left the Shinigami shaking their head in confusion and rubbing their eyes. No, it wasn't a faulty vision. Where just a minute ago, the Hall was packed with the authorities of Meifu, the Shinigami were alone with their god. Even then, the only Shinigami present were those close to Kyo and Takashi.
Tatsumi, Watari, Hisoka, Tsuzuki and Kanoe.
Enma raised his eyes to them even as he continued his petting of Kyo. The boy purred under his hand as he said to them, blandly, "Come closer, please."
Hesitant, throwing each other confused looks, the Shinigami complied as they gingerly resettled themselves a few paces behind Kyo and Takashi. Enma smiled briefly at them before returning his attention to the insane boy he was petting. Tatsumi watched with something close to apprehension. The sudden disappearance of everyone else was unsettling. What did Enma wanted that he felt the next proceedings had to be conducted between them only?
"The trial," Enma glanced briefly at Tatsumi as though aware of the whirling questions in his head (which he probably was), "has to proceed as scheduled. Despite what I feel or the truth of the matter, it has to."
"My Lord?" Kanoe asked, bewilderment making his craggy face craggier with deepening lines.
"I have moved us outside of Time. To the others, it has been barely the tenth of a second. No matter how long we stay here."
"For what purpose my Lord?" Hisoka spoke up next, his young voice despite his more than 30 years of age showed the strain of the past few days. He exchanged shadowed looks with Tsuzuki, eyes conveying a message only the two of them understood. "Are you going to punish Kyo? And Takashi. . ." he swallowed. "Takashi—"
Enma held up the hand that was free to forestall Hisoka. "All in good time, Hisoka-kun." He sighed heavily. "What goes on here will be between us and us only. None may know the truth which will be revealed. Do each of you understand and accept this?"
Tatsumi didn't need to confer with the others. He nodded swiftly, joined in his silent agreement by the others and Enma seemed pleased of their unequivocal support. He stopped in his petting, Kyo whimpering in loss but Enma trailed his hand over Kyo's face to cup his cheek. Kyo sighed, nuzzling the palm that caressed him.
Though the hand was involved in an intimate gesture with an insane Shinigami, Enma's liquid gold eyes were fixed upon Tatsumi and the others with a heavy gaze.
What Enma spoke next was as soft as a whisper, as loud as a scream. The words roiled and rippled in the still air to strike off no echoes as though they were ensconced in heavy felt. The cupped palm covered the white eyes in a no less loving gesture.
"Let the truth be revealed."
Nothing prepared them for the soundless shockwave that rippled out with those words. Kyo rocked back, a wordless cry escaping him as his head snapped back from the deity's hand. The boy rocked back on his heels, arms flailing wildly. Tatsumi and the others gaped in shock, held in place by more than just astonishment. They felt the power of Enma locking them in place, allowing them as spectators, not participants.
The last of the ripples faded away and Kyo shuddered, slumped on top of Takashi who was oblivious still to his surroundings. All was silent, the harsh gasps of surprise the only sound to break the silence. The Shinigami felt then that Enma's power was removed and they slumped in their own seats in relief. But the relief was short-lived as they waited for. . . .something to happen.
"My Lord," Tatsumi rasped out. "Wh—"
"Wait." Again, that hand was raised. Enma watched the sprawled, unconscious figure of Kyo intently. Not knowing what else to do, Tatsumi and the others watched as well. The seconds ticked by, marked by mounting tension from both the Shinigami and Enma as well. Just when Tatsumi felt his legendary patience was about to snap under pressure, fingers biting deep to gouge his ravaged palms again, Kyo stirred.
The sudden absence of tension from the God of Death was palpable. Relieved, for the deity's emotion affected them as well, the Shinigami waited with bated breath for Kyo to rouse himself. Was it possible? Had Enma cured Kyo's insanity?
"Fixing a broken and shattered mind is beyond my means," Enma shattered their hopes quietly. "His insanity can be cured by no one but. . ." he trailed off.
Again, as Tatsumi was about to speak up, he was shushed again. Kyo was stirring, hands trembling as he tried to sit. They needed no prompting from Enma that to help him was beyond question.
Kyo managed to sit up after a few tries. His hair was still shot through with white, his just as pale eyes dazed and confused as he looked around. He paid no attention to the body beneath his hands, instead, staring at the Shinigami as though he never saw them before. Recognition did not flare in his eyes, welcome did not grace his face. Hisoka, who had settled by Tatsumi's right, shuddered as Kyo's gaze settled on him.
"That's-" he gasped, "That's not Kyo."
The startled Shinigami had no time to react to that before Kyo turned his back to them, facing Enma. As such, they did not see those eyes pale even further until the only color left was the ring of black around the now white irises. They did notice however, that slowly, but surely, the white in his hair started to spread. The little black strands of hair that was left were consumed with white until his hair shone like new snow.
Only Enma understood the change that occurred in the boy. Sadness settled on his beautiful face till the golden eyes were dark butterscotch.
Nevertheless, even the Shinigami could not mistake the sudden return of sanity in the voice that spoke with complete anger. Sanity, that Enma had told them, was not within his power to grant. More than confused, more than shocked, it took them a while before what Kyo said sank in.
His voice was colder than ice. "Father," he greeted Enma.
It took them even more time to swallow Enma's reply.
"My daughter," he smiled sadly. "Izanami."
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History is taught to teach us a lesson. To impart upon us knowledge from those wiser than us and ultimately, so that we won't repeat the mistakes of those before us. But too often, an important fact is overlooked.
History, is written by the winners.
Written by those who survived and by those whose voice can drown out another's. There is no wrong or right in the course of a war or a political struggle. There is only the winner whom history will determine as the one who was right.
The Kojiki is such an example. Written by the hands of men, claimed as the records of ancient matters, the Kojiki strove to explain the shadowy beginnings of Creation and Man. None living today can rightly claim the authenticity of the book. None bothered to. For them, it is part of an ancient and proud history of the nation of islands.
So if there is none to contest its claims, how can anyone realise the grievous errors the book proclaimed? How can anyone realise the lies the book told?
It is perhaps, even sadder when those whom the book claims to tell the story of, is just as blinded to the truth as the rest are.
"Father," Izanami said coldly. Ignoring the gasps behind her, (him? Sexuality is minor inconvenience to a God after all) the Mother who helped created the world rose to her feet, keeping her white eyes trained upon the seated deity.
"Daughter," Enma replied with barely the hint of strain showing in his voice, "Izanami, we have missed your presence more than we can say, Daughter."
A sneer marred her mouth as she took the time to assess herself. She was in the body of a young man, a picture of health that death had so kindly preserved. A fringe of white hair, shorter than hers had ever been fell into her eyes. Sneering again at the paper chains that restricted her movements, Izanami tore it off without blinking an eye. The ofuda burst into flames, the ashes drifting down only to disappear before ever touching the floor. Oh, she knew this body well. After all, hadn't she been living in it for the past 35 years?
"Why, whatever for Father?" she mocked brightly. She held out her arms by her side, gesturing to herself. "After all, weren't you the one to lift the Veil of Time and Death to imprison me in this body the moment it was created? Weren't you the one who condemned me to the life of a mortal?"
"It was never meant as an act of condemnation," Enma replied gently. "Nor was it to punish you, Daughter. It was to teach you a lesson."
"A lesson?" she laughed a harsh laughter. "What lesson? To understand that I will never have what this. . . .mortal has? To understand that I was betrayed? Oh I understand Father. I understand it all too well," she hissed.
She spun around, fully intent on leaving this place that her father had carved out from Time. Too long had she been restricted in a cage of normal flesh. She longed to be rid of it. She wanted to go back. Back to the place where she could forget all that has happened and will happen and back to hating in peace.
But she had barely taken a step before she was stopped, faltering in her pose of righteous anger before five pairs of human eyes. No, she corrected herself absently, not humans. Were. Once.
The boy cursed to be her cage rose inside her in glad recognition of the Shinigami who were in her way. Even through the insanity the boy recognised the faces of friends. Family.
Izanami, drowning in her hatred as she is, was, and is Mother. She had helped created the world and with it, the first man. It can even be rightly said that she and her husband were the parents of all humans, no matter what form they took. And as Mother, she saw the need to understand in her children's faces, the desperate longing to have their friends back and to have everything back to the way it was. So shackled by the love of her children, Izanami faltered, her anger ebbing.
"Kyo?" a young boy called out. She didn't need to be introduced. She knew him as well as the others. Even more than what Kyo knew. Kurosaki Hisoka. He looked terribly young with confusion etched so plainly on his face. "What's going on? Where's Kyo? What happened to him?"
Izanami blinked, surprised that he knew until she remembered that he was a powerful empath and telepath. Of course he would realise that his friend was no longer in control of his body. Ignoring her father who waited patiently behind her, she knelt on the tatami, bringing herself their eye level. She cocked her head to the side, a gesture so inherently Kyo had she realised it and smiled briefly.
"Kyo is inside," she placed a hand over her heart. "Where I have been ever since he was born. He was my cage," she smiled humourlessly.
"What do you mean?" Deep green eyes widened, trying to understand and Izanami tensed in remembered anger. She refused to turn back but she directed a question to Enma all the same.
"Yes, whatever did you mean to do Father?" she asked in false cheer. "Trapping a God in a mortal's body? What did you hope to achieve?"
"Will you listen then? Will you listen to my reasoning and why I did what I have to do?"
The increased stillness in her pose was enough of an answer. But again she was stopped by those damn eyes that begged silently. After a long moment, Izanami gave a curt nod and rose to her feet. She moved to the side of Enma's dais, ignoring the still body before her and looking off into the featureless darkness that lay outside the pool of light they were in. She crossed her arms over her chest and said impatiently, "Well? You said you would tell. Then tell. I too, would like to know why I was subjugated to this prison."
The next question was put forth by Enma, directed to the stunned Shinigami. "Have you ever read the Kojiki my children? Or even heard of its stories?"
Five heads nodded slowly, eyes darting from the white-haired figure that waited in tense impatience to the sad god on the dais.
"Then you know of the story of how the world was created by my two beloved children, Izanami and Izanagi. I gifted them with the Ama-no-Nuboko and with it, they moulded the stuff of the world and created man. The other gods were also created by these two gods so in essence, they are also the Father and Mother of the Old Gods. This," Enma gestured briefly to Izanami who wore the likeness of Kyo, "is my daughter, Izanami."
Of course, her identity had been given away during their confrontation but then, the Shinigami were too stunned by what was revealed to fully understand it. Now, given the direct assurance and time to accept it, they finally understood. Strangely, Izanami found the dawning horror in their faces hurtful.
"Are you saying. . that," Tatsumi whispered hoarsely, "Kyo never existed? He wasn't real? Wait, then you must be Kunitokotatchi, the Father of all gods!"
"Kyo existed, never fear that," Enma hastily assured them. "He is as real as you are." Enma smiled. "And yes, I was once known as Kunitokotatchi. But that is a story for another time."
"Then. . ." Tsuzuki gestured weakly at Izanami.
The golden eyes of Enma darkened further as he sat back on his dais. "You have heard also, of the subsequent estrangement between my two children, Izanami and Izanagi?"
The Shinigami nodded.
Enma looked as though he had a headache, judging by the weary hand he passed over his ageless face. "The world had yet to be finished when Izanami and Izanagi. . . parted ways. Because of it, the world, not fully formed as it was meant to be, slowly started to unravel. You have noticed the increasing number of natural disasters and the rising numbers of demons on Chijou? The ever declining faith of man in the old gods? That was the price we had to pay for their parting. The world is dying as we speak."
"Do you think I wanted to leave?" Izanama shouted suddenly. She spun to face the dais, anger vibrating in every line of her body as she clenched her fists. "I saw what was happening to my children! I cried for them but I can do nothing! He betrayed me! He trapped me in the Underworld and he spurned me!"
"You were blinded," Enma corrected gently.
"I saw the truth!" Izanami screamed back. She took no notice of the way her eyes glowed white again in her anger or the Shinigami cowering back. "I saw how easily disgust overrode his love and how easily he set me aside! He lied to me! And then you forced me into this body, this cage and you made me watch again the lies he wove!"
"You were blinded," Enma repeated again.
"Shut up!"
The Hall was silent after that outburst. Izanami fell to her knees, her shoulders shaking with effort to suppress the tears that longed to be released. The Shinigami didn't know what to make of it. From their close friend trying to end the world, only to kill his own loved one, to having it revealed that that same friend actually had a God locked inside his soul. . . .and to have that same God brought out and crying silently for a Husband's betrayal of her love.
It was Tatsumi who first moved and asked what Enma and Izanami had obliquely made clear. "Takashi. . .he was a. . . c-shell as well?"
Izanami ceased her silent tears, face still hidden by her hands as Enma nodded slowly. "It was never meant for a God to intervene directly in a mortal's fate," Enma sighed. "But Kyo and Takashi, even if I had not interfered, were already meant to be together. I saw then that their love may perhaps be strong enough to overcome the hatred between my two children. So I gambled," he said simply.
"But," Tatsumi tried to swallow, to wet his dry throat. "Takashi's dead. . . a dead Shinigami can not be revived."
"Just as a Shinigami who's mind is shattered cannot be fixed," Enma whispered. "It is beyond my powers. But there is one thing I can do." He leaned forward, hand outstretched.
Izanami seem to sense that movement and her head snapped up. Her white eyes were beautifully clear despite her crying and her face, the more ethereal, suffused as the mortal beauty was with the presence of a god. She whispered, "No."
Enma's hand covered Takashi's face, reminiscent of his earlier gesture to awaken Izanami inside of Kyo and again, that soundless shockwave boomed out through the Hall. Again, they were rocked back but quickly regained their equilibrium. Izanami didn't even shudder, her eyes locked on Takashi with an expression that was a mingling of fear, anger and desperate longing.
After a long minute of tense anticipation, Takashi stirred. His eyes fluttered open first and it was then that the Shinigami noticed the difference. His hair, a deep russet hue shot through with light gold was slowly lightening. The deep red merged and flowed until his hair shone with the color of soft gold. Unlike Enma's own coloring which at times appeared to be really molten metal, Takashi's was like a flute of champagne held to the light. An amber that was as soft and bright as Izanami and Kyo's pure white.
Still with Izanami watching him silently from the side, Takashi stirred fitfully, coughing a bit as he drew himself up on his elbows. A second or two to adjust himself, by which the Shinigami noticed that his eyes were now the same color as his hair, Takashi swung his legs to the side and sat up slowly. He blinked bemusedly, taking in the silent Shinigami and Enma.
It was a deliberate gesture that Takashi allowed himself to finally acknowledge the hunched figure that was Izanami.
His lips curled into a sneer. "Izanami." The tone dripped with contempt, pure hatred and. . .this was what only Hisoka and Enma could actually sense, the same desperate longing that Izanami was quick to hide as Takashi rose.
Izanami returned the sneer with one of her own. "Husband," she said mockingly. "Izanagi."
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to be continued
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A/N: Did anyone expected that? Wahahahaha! The twist had been in my mind ever since I started this story. I guess you can figure out what will happen but. . . will that actually decrease your interest to read the next chapter? I wanted to go on but I was already exceeding my usual number of words. Besides, I needed a rest. Whew!
As such, I can now start doing the next chapter of When Death comes a'knocking. I couldn't do it before because what I plan on including in that chapter, will reflect what has happened in this arc. So look forward to that in a couple of days! So far, only Midnight Shadow has spotted the clue I've left; that Kyo and Taka must have survived EOTW to be in When Death. . .or did everyone else was too lazy to point it out? ^__^ Anyways, review me lots! You'll see the next chapter in a couple of days.
PS: This arc will end in either one more chapter and an epilogue or just one last chapter. . . . . .*sniff*
To Kodomo Hikari: Thank you. I can't believe you remembered what I said. And lately, after what I've been through, your words mean that much more to me. As always, it's the people I've never met who says the things that echoes in my heart. ^__^ getting sappy.