A/N: Yes, this is the end.
Thanks to all who reviewed! Love you all!
PS: Yes, the basic premise was taken from a very simplified version of the real Kojiki (have you ever tried to read translated archaic Japanese?? VEEEry confusing!). But about Hino and all that, that's purely my imagination! ^__^
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Chapter 34
Enma's Judgment
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Izanami sneered. "My husband," she said mockingly. "Izanagi."
The twist of his lips marred his features just as Izanami's was marred. Somehow, the Shinigami simply could not comprehend Kyo and Takashi ever giving each other that kind of looks, much less greeting each other with that much contempt in their voices.
"Izanagi," Enma said in a pained voice. "Please."
Takashi. . .no, Izanagi, spun around, fixing a cold glare on his father. "Please what?" he growled. "It's not enough is it, that you have forced me to live in this mortal's body and suffer through the farce she plays. Now you want us to do what? To get along? To make amends? Well Father," Izanagi glared as he stalked closer to the dais and practically snarled in Enma's face, "It's too goddamn late!"
"Do you think this is all just about you?" Izanami spun him around, spitting and hissing in his face. "That you're the only one here suffering? Might I remind you, husband," she mocked, sarcasm dripping heavily, "that you were the one who betrayed me?"
The rage in Izanagi's face was a palpable force, mirrored in like by Izanami.
"Keep on spinning those lies, wife, and this time not even the God of Death can save you," Izanagi hissed.
Enma spoke up then, daring to interfere and the Shinigami did not know whether to applaud his bravery or to prepare for what may likely be their ultimate deaths. There was no mistaking the tangible force of hatred and twisted emotions that thrummed the air to a fever pitch. Already the featureless black ceiling of the Hall had lightened and flared with the random bursts of power.
"Children," Enma began, the pain in his voice audible, "please just—"
Izanagi and Izanami both ignored him.
"—you were the one who chose to throw me away—"
"—and you can never stop lying can you, even when—"
"Izanami," Enma tried again. "Will you j—"
"—I curse the day I ever set eyes on you!"
"—the feeling is more than mutual!"
Smack!
The sudden silence was a shock. To both gods and Shinigami. It was almost laughable in fact, to see such looks of incredulity on the faces of the two Gods who had created the world. In fact, if it was under any other circumstances, they would have laughed. But they were too busy gaping over the fact that Enma had actually risen from his seat and that it was him that had delivered the slaps to both Izanami and Izanagi that had effectively stopped their tirade.
Izanami and Izanagi cradled their red, stinging cheeks, fixing a silent glare on their father. If Enma's purpose was to get their attention, he had succeeded. Now he had to contend with having both of their ire focused on him.
Enma looked surprisingly undisturbed with the fact that his two children were giving him murderous looks. United in their temporary indignation, both Izanagi and Izanami forgot to continue the fight as they waited for Enma to make his move. Enma sighed, standing back a pace from his children and he fixed his robes so that they hung comfortably of his frame. The pale slender hand that had delivered the shockingly human chastisement were hidden under the voluminous sleeves threaded with gold.
"Tell me, Izanami," he sighed again. "Why do you hate your husband so much? He who is the other half of you?"
Izanami stiffened despite the fact the she had been shouting out why exactly she wished her better half to the deepest pits of hell. She clenched her fists tightly, looking away from Enma to stare fixedly on a spot on the floor between her and her husband.
"He abandoned me," she finally whispered. "I waited for him in the Underworld. I knew he could come. He did. . .to tell me that he had no more use for me. That he wanted me to stay there in the Spirit World and bother him no more. He spurned me!"
"I did no such thing!" Izanagi surged forward only to be stopped by Enma's pale hand.
"Izanagi," Enma said. "Why do you hate your wife? She is who is the other half of you?"
Izanagi trembled as he gave his answer, pure amber eyes fixed upon Izanami who stared still at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. "I searched for her, in the Underworld," he answered. "And I found her. I told her that I came to bring her back with me, that I can't live without her. And she. . . she spurned me. She was consorting with the demons, the spirits and she laughed at me, telling me what a fool I was. That she preferred the Spirit World to living with me."
Izanami finally raised her head, to meet his eyes almost tiredly. "I did no such thing," she answered wearily.
"And I did not do what you have accused me of, Wife," Izanagi said softly.
This time, the silence between them was thick with unanswered questions and hesitant, almost tentative expectations. Disbelief and the longing to believe warred between them and the Shinigami, forgotten at the sides, watched and waited in bated anticipation.
"What would you say my children," Enma began slowly, "if I said that the two of you were right? And that both of you were wrong?"
Izanami and Izanagi snapped their heads around to Enma, their looks guarded.
"What do you mean, Father?" Izanagi asked.
Enma ignored him to ask Izanami instead, "How did you arrive at the Spirit World, Izanami?" he asked gently.
Izanami drew in a sharp breath. Her white eyes grew wide with the sudden recollection of memory kept hidden for uncounted millennia. "I. . ." she faltered. "I. . .died. . .giving birth to. . .Hino. . ."
"That's not what happened my child," Enma rebuked her softly.
"I. . ." she shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes and she took a step back. "No! It wasn't like that! He didn't! He. . ."
"Hino killed you," Izanagi answered her faintly. His own eyes grew wide with remembered horror. "He killed you," he repeated. "Our own son. . .he killed you," he finished.
"No." A barely heard denial.
"He killed you, my child," Enma said gravely. "And his treachery and deceit did not end there. As I have told the Shinigami, Hino has embraced fire and destruction more than what the Balance has called for. It was not Izanagi, your husband that you saw in the Underworld, Izanami. It was Hino."
A lone tear fell to stain Izanami's pale cheek. "No," she whimpered. "It can't be. . ."
Enma turned to Izanagi, who appeared to have grasped the implications of Enma's words. He too, was crying and shaking his head in denial.
"And it was not your wife, Izanami that you saw my child. It was Hino."
"No." Izanagi echoed her words.
"His aim was to drive you two apart, to unhinge the blocks by which the World stood upon. He wanted you to hate each other. And he had succeeded."
Izanami fell to her knees on the floor. Dimly, she was aware of Izanagi falling beside her and cradling her close. His tears fell upon her, scalding hot and bitterly cold as he repeated. "What have I done? What have I done?"
"I'm sorry," Izanami whispered. The callous words she had thrown in accusation rang back in her ears, mocking her, taunting her. "I'm sorry." For years uncounted she had hated the very memory and presence of the one whom she was destined to love for eternity. All because of their child. Their child who had betrayed them.
And because of them, because of their blindness and because of the deceits and webs of lies that their child wove, two blameless humans bore the brunt of their mistake. Two humans who were supposed to live a happy life. How could they ever forgive themselves?
"I'm so sorry."
"Please forgive me."
"How could I have been so blind?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Please please please forgive me."
For the first time in a long, long while, Izanami and Izanagi, they who had created the world only to part in anger and hate, have found each other.
May their love be stronger than their grief and despair.
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Let this be my decree and let it be my Judgment
You who were accused, know that you are forgiven
Let none speak of this day
Let none remember it again
For the soul wrongly accused and lied to
Let salvation be my punishment
So this I decree
By my hand and Seal
Let no one speak of this day
Let no one speak of this day
Let no one bring them grief
Let no one bring them harm
So this I decree
~Enma-Daioh's Final Judgment for the Case of Shinigami Shiozaki Kyo and Matsumada Takashi, as recorded by the Herald for the personal files of Enma-Daioh~
~Note: The Shinigami Konoe Kacho, Tatsumi Seiichiro, Watari Yutaka, Tsuzuki Asato and Kurosaki Hisoka has been marked with Enma's Death Seal. Their souls are forever bound by silence of the events that transpired. Should the Seal be broken, let the punishment be instant, eternal purgatory~
~Not for public record~
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. . . .Owari. . . .
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. . . .The Epilogue. . . .
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Swirling darkness. Heavy as felt. Thicker then velvet. Lighter than air.
Where am I?
No one answers.
. . . . . who am I?
A frightened echo rebounds off walls that stretches to eternity. He is alone. No one answers him and it scares him.
He doesn't want to be alone.
He knew he wasn't, before he came to this place. He was loved. And he loved in return. If only he could remember. . .
A sudden sound. There and gone in an instant. Like the striking of a hammer against a tiny crystal. It was unexpected. It was too sudden. And it was gone before he could recognize it.
He spins around, calling, shouting out.
Hello?
Can anyone hear me?
A blossoming light answers. Pure white that blinds him and shows him visions and vistas beyond what the mortal mind could conceive. By rights, such wonders would have driven a mortal mad.
But he is already mad.
The light envelops him, him in all of his insanity. It welcomes and cherishes every part like a mother loves her child. Others see the ugliness. She sees the beauty.
A gentle touch. A loving call. A phantom kiss.
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Grey nothingness. Alone in a void indescribable. It suffocates him. He doesn't want to be here. He wants to be somewhere else. A place where he knows that another is waiting for him.
He tries to move, but cannot.
He tries to call out, but he is mute.
He tries to listen, but he is deaf.
Despair wars against hope. This is not where he is supposed to be. But he cannot fathom himself being away from here. A part of him longs for this oblivion, for that final rest. But another calls desperately for that missing piece of his heart, his soul.
Sudden light. Gold amber that warms the freezing grey. It sinks into his very being, warming him up from the inside out. Like a cup of hot sake on a cold winter's day. He welcomes the sensation gladly. A sign of life.
A gentle touch. A loving call. A phantom kiss.
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Just like any other day in the past two weeks, Takashi woke up to the sights and sounds of the infirmary. Yawning and blinking his eyes to get rid of the graininess deep sleep gave him, Takashi stretched negligently on the bed, sighing contentedly as his joints popped from hours cramped in one position.
"Good afternoon, Takashi!"
Takashi smiled sleepily. "Good afternoon, Watari-san." He yawned again. "Oops, sorry," he smiled sheepishly.
Watari waved his apology aside. "No harm done," the blond smiled. "So!" Watari grinned and cocked his head to the side, the inquisitive action mirrored by 003 perched on his shoulder. "How do you feel today?"
Takashi pondered the question, stretching and popping every movable joint. After a while, he surmised, "Surprisingly good. I think all the injuries are fixed now."
"Great!" Watari rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I think another few days rest and you two should be able to get out from here."
"Thank god," Takashi smiled. "No offence but two weeks in here is driving me batty. Where's Kyo?"
"I was wondering how long it'd take you to ask that," Watari rolled his eyes. "He was up ages ago."
"Oh?" Takashi turned his head to the side and sure enough, the bed on his right was empty of its usual occupant, namely, his Kyo. "Where did he go to?"
"He went to the grove outside. Said he needed a change of view."
"You know what?" Takashi declared as he sat up and swung his legs to the side. "I think I need a change of view as well."
Watari raised an eyebrow. "Not until after you get a bath mister."
And so, half an hour later, Takashi found himself outside of JuuOhCho, making his way deeper into the sakura grove. Smelling fresh and clean, clad in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, Takashi had to admit that Watari was right to insist on that bath. He felt even better than before. And that was saying something.
Both he and Kyo had been stuck in the infirmary for over two weeks already. And the trouble is, both of them couldn't remember why they were in the infirmary in the place. It was Tatsumi who had enlightened them. Apparently, one of the cases they were on ended in quite a spectacular showdown with a demon, resulting in both him and Kyo severely injured. They were, as Watari told them, in a coma for over a week before regaining consciousness and the partial amnesia was not surprising, considering the damage they took.
Takashi and Kyo were both assured that everything was taken care of, no, you don't need to worry about the amnesia and Hisoka had already typed up the report for them. The both of them had taken in the explanation with little fuss. After all, if that was what their friends said had happened, then it did. Only the blankness troubled them and even after time passed, it ceased to nag them as well.
Takashi sighed indulgently as his bare feet raked through the thick, lush grass. Patterns of sunlight fell on him through the leaves, marking a dappled pathway to one particular tree which he knew he can find Kyo under.
True enough, the boy was there, lying under the shade of a large, majestic sakura, old and squat under its crown of pink petals. Just by his feet, a small stream gurgled happily, meandering through the grove to empty into a small lake barely visible from Watari's lab window. Stopping by Kyo's side, Takashi plopped himself down, lying on his side by Kyo's and watching the dozing boy fondly.
Kyo was similarly clad as him, faded denims and a white, short-sleeved button down shirt. Takashi was most amused to note that the jeans Kyo wore were those low slung kinds, the ones that ride on your hips and was just this shy of indecent. He knew Kyo didn't have those kinds of jeans before. It must have been courtesy of the girls.
His arm propping his head up, forming a triangle with the ground, Takashi lowered his head carefully, pressing the lightest touch on Kyo's lips. His love stirred slightly, blue eyes opening and blinking dazedly.
"Hey," he greeted Takashi, incidentally grazing their lips together.
"Hey yourself," Takashi murmured and drove the light kiss deeper. Kyo sighed happily, a purr starting deep in his throat as his arms snaked around Takashi's shoulders, pressing him down.
A little while later, having said his hello satisfactorily, Takashi lowered himself down, lying next to Kyo. Even then he continued to nuzzle Kyo's neck softly, eliciting a sigh or two from the boy.
"How are you feeling today?" Takashi asked in between nipping Kyo's neck.
Kyo wriggled closer to him, arching his neck back to offer better access. "I feel great. Even better now," Kyo answered as his eyes drifted shut with pleasure, Takashi's head cradled in one arm as he played absently with strands of russet hair.
"That's good," Takashi replied. "Watari gave you a clean bill of health?"
"Uh-huh," Kyo gasped out then, "You?"
"Fit as a fiddle," Takashi proclaimed solemnly and Kyo giggled. "You know," Takashi said conversationally as though he wasn't in the middle of seducing his husband in the office park with only a stand of trees to shelter them from view, "I haven't seen you in these jeans before."
"Y-you haven't?" Kyo moaned as Takashi deftly started to unbutton his shirt, pausing only to kiss every inch of skin bared. "The girls. . ."
"You were saying?" Takashi prompted with a gentle laugh when it seemed that Kyo was losing coherent thought from his little nips and licks all over Kyo's decidedly bare chest.
"Girls. . . got it for. . me. . .get well. . .present!" Kyo gasped, his back arching off the grass as Takashi tugged a little too hard on a nipple.
"Remind me to thank them later," Takashi murmured but this time, Kyo was too far gone to answer him properly.
Long minutes were spent in delightful torture, delightful for Takashi, torture for Kyo as Takashi seemed adamant to prove that three weeks abstinence hadn't rusted his skills at all. In a daze, Kyo was bemused to note that somehow he had managed to lose his shirt, jeans and underwear. In fact, squinting his eyes as he tried to focus despite the flushes of heat that ignited in his body with every touch of Takashi's skilful hands, Kyo became much aware that he was utterly naked while his lecherous husband barely had his t-shirt off.
"Hey," he protested faintly as Takashi did mind-boggling things with his tongue at that certain spot below his navel. "How come you're not naked?"
Sadly, Takashi had to stop in the middle of his mind-boggling inducing act to answer him. He loomed over Kyo, his hands holding him up at either side of Kyo as he grinned down at his naked husband.
"So you want me naked?" Takashi purred. He rubbed their bodied together, the friction of cloth against bare skin making Kyo gasp.
"Yes," Kyo whimpered, lifting his hips and rubbing desperately against Takashi. "Now!"
"Tsk, so impatient," Takashi admonished him, grinning wickedly.
With a sudden, wicked grin of his own, Kyo in a move long perfected had Takashi's jeans unzipped and his crotch squeezed gently, all under 5 seconds. It was Takashi's turn to moan unintelligibly.
"You were saying?" Kyo purred back.
"Ah, to hell with foreplay!" Takashi announced.
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Passion spent and sated, they curled up together, bare skin to bare skin and bodies intertwined until it was hard to tell where one begin and the other ended. They had made love with a gently rising passion that brought wordless pleasure, years of intimacy brought to play as each sought to bring the other to climax.
Sweat drying under a freshening breeze, they had cleaned each other lovingly in the small stream and afterwards, lay back down under the sakura. Both their shirts were irredeemably spoiled from rubbing themselves dry from the impromptu bath and from grass stains but who cares? Takashi was lying on his back, Kyo nestling in the crook of his arm, head pillowed on his chest.
"Taka?" Kyo called softly.
"Yeah?"
"Does it bother you that we can't remember?"
"About the case?"
"Uh-huh," Kyo nodded, his hair sliding over Takashi's chest.
"Sometimes," Takashi admitted. "But then, everyone seems to think there's nothing to worry about."
"Are you?"
"Worried?"
"Yeah."
"No, not really," Takashi smiled as Kyo propped his chin on his chest, the better to see him. "I have you. You're alive and well. I don't need anything else."
Kyo smiled and for an instant, Takashi seemed to saw a different Kyo superimposed on top. A Kyo with white hair and white eyes. A blink of the eyes and the image was gone, along with memory of it.
"I love you," Kyo said with a kiss on his chest, right over his heart.
"I love you too," and he pulled Kyo up for a more involved kiss.
Sometime later, as passion rose and waned, as they touched and kissed again and again, a question was asked.
"You'll never leave me?"
"Never."
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They stood upon a small rise that overlooked Meifu's everlasting sakura. Standing there outlined by the setting sun, the two figures would have been hard to miss what with one with hair so white and the other a liquid amber. Their hair caught the red light of the sun and for a brief moment, they were outlined in white and gold halos. But strangely no one took notice of them.
Izanami squeezed her husband's hand gently. "We made the right choice didn't we?"
Izanagi smiled in return. "We did. They're happy now."
"Sometimes it's better to never remember at all, ne?" Izanami mused. "I envy them for that."
"We all make sacrifices," Izanagi nodded in agreement. "They, perhaps, have made the biggest sacrifices of all, even without knowing it themselves."
"But even if they can't remember, it doesn't mean they're unmarked."
Izanagi let loose a low chuckle. "They were the vessels of gods. No mortal can survive such an experience unscathed. Not to mention that we had to intervene again to grant them this second chance."
"Nothing but what they're entitled to," Izanami noted.
"You are right, my dear Wife."
They stood there for a moment longer, basking in the heat of the red sun and the distinct touch of emotions emanating from two mortals forever linked to them. Joy and pure happiness. It made the two gods happy as well.
It was Izanagi who stirred first. Giving his wife a no less loving smile than what Takashi had given Kyo, he asked her formally, but with all the love in his heart.
"My Wife, shall we go home?"
The answering smile was even more radiant than a thousand suns. "Yes, my Husband. Let's go home."
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End Epilogue
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A/N: And so ends the Kojiki Trilogy. . . . .Oh my god. I can't believe it. Can you? I don't want to say goodbye to Kyo and Taka and thankfully, I, nor you, have to. We will (have, in fact) see them again in When Death comes a'knocking. Yes, it is a continuation of sorts from this arc. That's why I couldn't continue as yet with that story.
Just to make things clear, the Death Seal is placed upon the Shinigami present during Izanami and Izanagi's awakening is to make sure that that secret is never revealed. Takashi and Kyo do not remember what happened at all. In fact, to them, the whole Ayame thing never happened either. False memories were given to cover those 18 years of Kyo's disappearance. Enma's "public" verdict to his Court has placed a death seal of sorts on the others as well. They too won't be able to remind Takashi and Kyo about what had happened as well. In fact, their memories were also slightly modified. The only ones who remembered every thing was Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Watari, Tatsumi, Kacho and the gods.
I would just like to take this opportunity to thank each and everyone one of you who've stuck with me so far! You know who you are! I wouldn't have made it this far without your kind words and encouragement/death threats! Love you guys loads!
Well, enough blabbing. Sigh. . . .please tell me what you think. And remember, say hi to them again in When Death. . .!
Much love,
Shiozaki.