A/N: Hello people!! This is the end, meaning, the main plot is resolved in this chapter.
Several things to be noted: 1) This fic was eternal to write, hence, it's very likely you are, by now, completely lost, plot-wise; but I did pay attention to the details in every chapter. If something that happens here seems like rushed, I suggest you re-read everything and you'll see it isn't the case (Not that I actually hope someone would, it really is too long -.-;) 2) It might seem like something's missing, because it is; the pairings need one more chapter, an epilogue, to wrap things up all nice. It's coming, though. Two weeks tops. 3)There is a cameo appearance in this chapter. It's not meant to include the character, just a bit of self-fan-service, if that makes sense. I hope it doesn't bug you.Anyway, this chapter is extremely long, twice as long as the other chapters, actually. I hope you can deal with it. I'll thank people properly on the epilogue. This isn't over yet.
Warning: Gore and blood.
Enjoy!
A SMILE UPON MY FACE
Aome watched, with a sense of foreboding, as Hijiri, Inari and Tsuzuki disappeared around the corner. She would talk to her partner later- and not too kindly, by the way- about leaving her behind to tend to the sick; for his own sake, she hoped his reasons didn't have anything to do with the fact that she was a girl, otherwise, the demon and his minion would seem like puppies next to her. She had to admit, though, there wasn't much she could do to help; not yet, anyway, except looking after a very tired and confused bunch of humans.
Looking around, she couldn't help but to wonder about the Principal's reaction when he came back the next morning- or that morning, as it was tomorrow already. Hijiri had expertly manipulated the man to leave him as the responsible adult- obviously to keep him from interfering or getting hurt- and, being as his favored kids were the only ones left there- or so he'd thought- Konoe-sensei had trusted them not to set the school on fire and jumped at the chance for a mini vacation. Now the place was a wreck; the hall, anyway, and Aome was sure that, wherever the demon had chosen as a hide-out wouldn't remain in one piece for long. She would have paid money to see Konoe's face, but she suspected- hoped- Hijiri and her would be gone by the time he go back. She almost felt sorry for the kids, though, that would be here to face Konoe's wrath.After the battle was over, after the adrenaline rush had subsided, the atmosphere had turned unnaturally calm; like a town after an earth-quake or something. Aome took a moment to study the 'survivors.The demon's former host- Hiyama was his name, according to Tsuzuki- had started coming round, so Inari, before leaving, had made sure he wouldn't run away and, since he'd given the impression of intending to torture Kenji- if only verbally- he'd gagged him as well. But his obstinate, pernicious stare wouldn't give the other boy a moment of rest. Aome had helped a broken and distraught Kenji to sit with his back to his previous captor, tucking the dirty bed-shit, along with the blazer Tsuzuki had so kindly offered, around his shaking form. It seemed to her, though, that Kenji could feel Hiyama's eyes on his back. He kept his forlorn looking eyes glued to the floor at all times, always looking a step away from crying. Aome couldn't wait until the cops arrived and took that bastard to a place where he'd learn first hand what it was like to be someone's bitch.
Hisae-san was a different story. Yes, the girl had shown signs of apprehension at being in the vicinity of the man who'd attacked her, and she'd been quite shaken; but mostly, she was just tired. Now, resting against a cinder stained wall, she slept profoundly; her face the image of tranquility and peace. Aome wondered how 'the morning after' would be for them- the innocent. How do you go back to your ordinary, uneventful life after a night like that night?
Or maybe she was just thinking about herself. Her first real fight- so to speak- had turned out a lot harder and fantastic than she'd ever imagined it would be. Again, she wished Hijiri had taken her with him but, this time, it was because she hadn't expected the aftermath- to see the consequences- to affect her so much. Would every big case be the same? Suddenly, being a shinigami didn't seem so cool or glamorous anymore.
Seeing Kenji so miserable was getting to her more than anything. The boy was breaking her heart and she hadn't even crossed a word with him yet! She decided to break the silence, to try and cheer him up, if that was even possible, or at least, distract him- and herself- for a while. Besides, he was the only one awake who wasn't a psychotic serial killer and the oppressive silence was driving her mad. She inched her way over to his side and smiled warmly at him, but the boy ignored her- either purposely or because he was so focused on brooding. She cleared her throat to get his attention.
"Hey, how're you doing?" She tried to sound casual, but the words sounded stupid as she said them. Truth was, sad people made her unbelievably skittish. The boy blinked and looked at her in surprise. So, she thought, it had been unintentional, after all. "Feel any better?" she asked.
Who had invented platitudes, anyway?
Kenji stared at her blankly for a moment, then shrugged.
"I don't know," he said, dispassionately. Aome huffed; this would be tough.
"Are you hungry? Do you need anything? We could wake up Hisae-san and go to the cafeteria, or your room. Maybe some clothes?"
"Whatever," Kenji's eyes went back to the floor.
Aome was about to give up, seeing as the boy showed no interest in... well, anything, really. She was no fucking shrink! She had half a mind to forget about the whole thing and let the boy sulk in peace until the experts came to take care of him; but then she saw the tiniest of tears trailing down Kenji's cheek and he whispered. "What will happen to him?"
He turned his head Hiyama's way for a moment.
"I guess he'll go to jail, sweetie." Aome answered, as reassuringly as she could, while throwing Hiyama the nastiest glare she could muster. Kenji didn't seem all that happy with that turn of events, so she added, "He'll never hurt you again. I promise."
Kenji smiled sadly at this; there was so much sadness in that smile, in fact, it just didn't look like a smile anymore.
"I... I loved him, you know?" the boy barely breathed. This took her by surprise, you can imagine. Aome could just stare at him, wide eyed and at a loss for words. "At first," he went on,
"I even believed he loved me back. But I should have known; I saw the way he mortified those kids because he hated himself, because he wanted me. I just figured he needed time to sort things out." He laughed bitterly. "So, I left him... gave him the time and space...I never imagined... I never thought he'd..." His voice broke, as the tears began flowing harder, as they became sobs. "I killed them!" he cried suddenly. "It's my fault! I kill them!"
Acting on impulse, Aome pulled him into a tight hug, shushing him and rocking him softly. From over Kenji's shoulder she could see Hiyama; the emotional display hadn't softened his stare one bit. There wasn't a hint of guilt in his expression; just sick lust and satisfaction at his work. Aome shivered, wondering who was more of a monster; the demon, or Hiyama.
"It wasn't your fault, honey," She cooed, "It wasn't your fault." To herself, she added. 'Hurry back, Jii-san. I wanna go home.'
Watari was virtually being dragged through the halls. The racket, and whatever it was that had caused it, had thankfully stopped already. There were no more explosions; even the storm seemed to be easing into a mild shower. But even if they weren't running anymore, they were still in a rush to get to a safe location and Tatsumi's legs were still a great deal longer than his- and he was limping. Watari didn't care, though; he was in a complete state of euphoria. He held on to Tatsumi's hand like a life-line, as if it were the only thing keeping him from waking from that wonderful dream, and let himself be dragged, as his eyes rested idly on the garden, dimly lit by the morning light that made his way through the retreating clouds as a good omen.
Tatsumi loved him, for Pete's sake! Something had to be wrong with the world; those kinds of miracles just didn't happen to Watari Yutaka. It was official; Tatsumi was his!! There was no place in his mind for doubt anymore. He didn't mind how complicated he knew things would be for them now. Not even the thought of Tsuzuki could bring him down. He knew, inside of him, that his friend would understand eventually. It didn't even bother him to know- because he knew- that Tsuzuki would always be Tatsumi's most important person in the world. He couldn't- wouldn't- change that, and he knew he wasn't a mere second choice. Tatsumi really did love him. It felt good, wonderful, and he would deal with everything that threatened that feeling when the time came.
It crossed his mind that, if Tatsumi were to turn around at that moment and tell him he had made a mistake and went back to Tsuzuki, he would still feel different; changed. He didn't know exactly what it had been, but something of everything that happened back in that infirmary had somehow... liberated him. It felt like something inside of him had snapped and all he could be, was happy. The world could end a thousand times, for all he cared. Watari felt lighter, more free; he just wasn't afraid anymore, and he loved it.'Talking about feelings...' he thought, frowning a little. He had the feeling that he'd forgot about something important but, so light-headed he was, he couldn't figure out what it could be. He tried to remember if he'd left the burner on before going to bed; the last thing he needed was to be responsible for the mayhem they'd heard. But, no; he hadn't even used the burner that day- or gone to bed. The heater? No; it had been warm all day. His homework? They hadn't even had classes!
The dilemma was about to damp his happiness with frustration, when Tatsumi suddenly stopped, yanking his arm a little when he failed to notice in time and just kept walking. A little confused, he looked up to the blue eyed boy and then around, trying to find the source of Tatsumi's odd behavior. Tatsumi was staring fixedly ahead, looking a little shaken. At first, Watari had thought it had something to do with the state of the hall ahead of them. It didn't take a genius to know it was that hall from where the explosions had come from. Watari feared Tatsumi would have a heart attack if he started calculating the cost for repairs. What the hell had happened there? He would have said it looked like a bomb had gone off, but then he realized it wouldn't have been an euphemism, just a very obvious remark.
But it wasn't that what had caught Tatsumi's attention. The hall ahead- or what was left of it- formed a cross, bifurcating into two other wings. One look to the row of windows from the right wing, and everything was crystal clear.
"Tsuzuki?" Watari thought out-loud, unconsciously tightening his hold of Tatsumi's hand. There was no doubt; even from a distance he could see Tsuzuki clearly, running along two other guys- one of which was really, really green. Tatsumi turned to look at him, seemingly mortified.
"He was running. Do you think...?" He hesitated. "Do you think he might be in trouble?"
Though he did feel a bit jealous at Tatsumi's utter concern, he would have kissed him silly, because he could tell that part of that preoccupation came from him not wanting to hurt his feelings by talking about Tsuzuki; even if the situation merited it. He would have a long talk with him afterwards, to let him know it was OK to still care about the violet eyed boy. After all, Watari himself loved Tsuzuki like crazy and, to be honest, he was as concerned about him at that moment as Tatsumi was. He smiled reassuringly.
"We should go after him and find out, ne?" Tatsumi gave him a grateful look and took his hand again. They were just about to start following their friend when a tiny pang of pain on his ankle and a certain lightness of his shoulder made Watari gasp audibly. "Oh, shit!!" he exclaimed, startling Tatsumi out of his wits. "Shit, shit shit!!"
"What?!" Tatsumi asked, alarmed by his seemingly irrational outburst.
"003!!" the blond cried, "Oh, God! I can't believe I just left her there!! She's hurt! She can't fly back to our room!"
"Where? Where did you leave her?" Tatsumi looked all concerned, ready to go back for their tiny friend, but Watari saw him glancing at where Tsuzuki had been.
"No way," he said smiling, "I screwed up, I'll go get her. You go after him and I'll catch you all later." He tried to turn Tatsumi around, push him in Tsuzuki's direction. IT was quite a struggle, really, and he knew Tatsumi wasn't even making an effort. The situation turned so ridiculous- what with him using his feet against the wall to some strength on his favor, while Tatsumi just stared at him funny, without moving an inch- that he burst out laughing. "What?1 Move, you dope! You're gonna loose him!!"
Tatsumi chuckled a bit too and grabbed Watari b the shoulders, gazing straight into his eyes; the perfect strategy if you wanted Watari's muscles to turn into jelly.
"And leave 003- or you- all alone? Not gonna happen." The older boy kissed him firmly and led him by the arm. "We'll go look for her. After all." He smiled cryptically. "She helped us get together. She can't be that far; I remember seeing her in the infirmary. That's close and there's nothing on that wing but empty classrooms and the auditorium. We'll find Tsuzuki in no time."
Needless to say, Watari had a smile from ear to ear all the way.
It would have been impossible, after everything that had happened, not to believe in Fate and its inevitability. A series of events had led him to that moment and now Muraki knew, beyond doubt, that it had been meant to be. Even his own designs and carefully thought out plans, intended primarily to defy all higher powers- Fate included- wouldn't have been possible without plenty of external factors laid out for him to fall right into the trap. His choices had only served to prove that there was no real choice in the end. He could almost feel the puppeteer's strings on him; it had so much power over him- Fate, that is- that for a while he'd truly believed everything was happening because he wanted it to happen.
It was still a very powerful, exhilarating moment. The demon was in front of him, glaring with those eyes devoid of all human ambiguity; pure, untainted evil. Muraki could read in them just how decisive that moment was. The demon, that he'd once regarded as a tool to take control over his destiny, had now become the very one who wanted to twist his will into complying like a good little sheep. His refusal to kill Hisoka, though, seemed to have taken him by surprise, and that pleased Muraki as much as it angered the creature.
He knew, though, that the demon was not fate; it would take a lot more to piss Fate off. The demon just presented an opportunity to find out what was coming next; he needed to, because the cosmic puppeteer had played one final joke on him, and now he found that his plans and choices regarding Oriya had made him realize something he'd been denying to himself for the longest of times. And he knew, as soon as he tasted blood, there would be no turning back; he wouldn't be able to feel anything but the desire to destroy. It was what he'd wanted at first, it was the reason he'd made the deal with the demon in the first place; to stop himself from feeling. But then he'd known nothing but pain. To be a monster, to be Saki, just wasn't an option anymore.
His future might have been written in stone, but he wouldn't go through it blindly and, if he didn't like what Fate had in store for him, he would simply find a way out. He knew there was a big chance he would turn into a murderer- the demon had pretty much confirmed it- right then or twenty years in the future. There was a way to escape, though; he didn't like it- though it didn't put him off that much- but it was probably meant to happen, anyway. He would rather hurt Oriya with his absence than having him by his side when he wouldn't be able to love him anymore; when all he would do was kill him slowly inside.
The demon took an angry step forward, standing so close to him that it would have made a fly caught between them feel more than a little claustrophobic.
"You ungrateful bastard!!" the demon shouted, "How dare you question me?! I'm offering you everything! Power, over yourself and others! What more could you want?!"
Muraki smirked, unfazed.
"How can you give me something you, yourself, don't have?" Reveling on the demon's increasing fury, he added, "You're nothing but a pawn."
He hadn't even finished speaking when the demon grabbed him, swiftly and with one hand, by the neck and slammed him against the wall as if he weighed nothing, sending a numbing pain through his spine and knocking the soon-to-be very needed air out of his lungs.
"A pawn!? A pawn?! What is wrong with you?! Are you seriously suicidal?!" Muraki, choking and feeling as his chest started to burn, just smiled. "Have you grown attached to that stinking piece of meat?" the demon hissed, pointing at Hisoka. "He'll die, no matter what you do. But if you don't kill him, I'll kill you too!"
"Point taken," he rasped out defiantly, "But I'm still not killing him."
The demon pushed him against the hard concrete wall one more time and let him drop like a rag doll. On the verge of unconsciousness, Muraki heard him let out a wail that seemed to come from the darkest corner of hell.
"You're a killer!! Every inch of you scrams for blood! You crave it; it's your destiny!!"
Muraki attempted to stand up, staggering from the pain in his entire body. It never crossed his mind to run, to escape, even as his every instinct begged him to. He took a moment to look at Oriya for what it could have been the last time. The boy was staring at him, wide eyed and beside himself with shock and fear. He was begging Muraki with his eyes, to just shut up, to do as the demon said; to stop that nightmare. The white haired boy sent him a silent apology and turned back to the demon.
"Perhaps you're right," he managed to say in a calm tone, "I really don't care about Hisoka-kun. He's not why I'm doing this. And I don't give a fuck if you kill me, either. In fact," he smirked, "I kinda want you to. I just don't like people telling me what to do; not Fate, not God, and certainly not an insignificant little thing like you."
To his surprise, his words didn't anger the demon more; as it was, they did the exact opposite. Any hint of frustration of rage simply disappeared from his features. All that was left was mild resignation and quite a bit of amusement. The demon actually laughed. Muraki's being filled with dread, as he saw, again, how he lost control of the situation. Had he said too much; exposed himself?
"Oh, you stupid, stupid thing! Is that it?" The demon shook his head, snorting. "You think you can escape Fate? All you've accomplished with this is to prolong your own pointless suffering, but if that's the way you want it, so be it. Since you've screwed me over with your 'choice', though," He walked up to Muraki and picked him up by the neck once more; only, this time, his free hand went to Muraki's face. "I'll give you something to remind you that Fate always catches us."
Time seemed to slow down considerably. As in slow motion, Muraki saw the demon's thumb closing the distance towards his right eye. He saw how it shattered his lenses; he felt the tiny shards, one by one, as they dug into his skin. Then everything turned red when, that same thumb, reached his eyeball and pressed, hard. Muraki thought he could hear a raw scream from far away, until he realized it was he who was screaming. And then, the world just faded into a back, painless oblivion, that was far from being blissful because, as the darkness engulfed him, along with a horrid sense of deja vu came the knowledge that he'd failed.
Oriya couldn't believe his eyes, his ears, anything. It had to be a dream; he'd tried to convince himself that was all, a very bad dream, but repeated sessions of self-pinching had proved that theory wrong. How could it be possible?! He'd been shocked when he'd thought Muraki could be a murderer; this went beyond shock, it was pure insanity! Yes, insane; that had to be it, he decided; he'd lost his mind. A nervous breakdown, perhaps? He certainly could imagine the last few days causing him one. Maybe Muraki's lunacy was contagious; something in the water? Or maybe, Muraki wasn't crazy at all, and he'd imagined the whole thing from the start. It did seem like something out of a sick, sick mind. In any case, if he wasn't crazy already, he knew he wouldn't stay sane for much longer.
He could already feel a sort of detachment from himself; he wanted to move, to speak, to yell; but his body just wouldn't respond. He could have sworn he could see himself, sitting there, unmoving and pale. Oriya couldn't even claim to be scared. He watched, as someone watching a grotesque spectacle, how Muraki's limp body fell to the ground, after a long, heart-wrenching scream. He saw, from the corner of his eye, how that unearthly creature that had mutilated Muraki, began walking in his direction; he couldn't focus on him though, even when he should have feared him, because his eyes were glued to his friend's face and on the pool of dark blood forming around his head, staining his beautiful silvery locks a deep red.
Everything else just disappeared. He heard Hisoka and that monster speaking, but the words made no sense to him and they seemed to be growing more and more distant. He noticed that Muraki was getting closer to him even before he realized he'd been walking towards him. It felt like an eternity went by before he reached his side, when in reality, it hadn't been more than a couple of seconds.
It looked like Muraki was just sleeping, though; his chest rose and fell erratically, but he was still breathing and, in sleep, he didn't seem to be in any pain. Oriya knelt down next to him, brushing a few strands of blood-soaked hair away fro his face. He wondered idly, as he saw the damage to his friend's face, if there wasn't something he should be doing to stop the bleeding; so much blood out of someone's body just couldn't be good. He removed the silk ribbon from his hair and pressed it gingerly over the wound, increasing the pressure as he deemed it necessary.
Muraki winced, letting out a small whimper. It was like a slap on the face to Oriya. The world came rushing back, hitting him hard, as he began to make sense- if that was even possible- of what had happened. And with awareness came an unbearable pressure to his chest. He couldn't breathe, as his eyes saw his own hands soaked with Muraki's blood.
He remembered all that had been said, every look and gesture that had passed between Muraki and the creature. Amazingly enough, that had made more of an impression on him than the creature itself. What had that meant? What would it mean from then on? Why did he have the feeling that the one on his face wasn't the worst of the wounds the creature had left on his would be lover? Muraki had been submitted to the most excruciating pain and all he'd done was sit there, being in shock. Was that how he supposed to take care of him?
He was unable to stop himself from crying. He rested his head on his friend's chest as the tears fell harder and harder, making sure to keep the vital pressure on the wound. His eyes closed on reflex; it just hurt too much to leave them open.
"I'm so sorry, Kazutaka," he sobbed, feeling a mild comfort from his love's heart beat underneath him. "I'll make everything alright again; I promise."
Something brushed against the silk of his yukata, against his hair, until it finally came to rest on top of his head. Oriya didn't dare to hope, but it really felt like a hand. He opened his eyes slowly, raising his head. He saw, through a blur of tears, how one silver eye, glassy and teary, focused on him. Oriya stared back, half in fear, half in relief.
"O...Ori-chan?" A thread of voice, raspy and low, escaped Muraki's lips, that immediately curved into a pain-induced mock-smile. "Ori-chan... I never... I'm... not.... a monster."
The tone of Muraki's voice was anything but adamant. It seemed more like he was trying to convince himself, rather than the dark haired boy. His one eye closed tightly and he took a shaky breath.
"Shh," Oriya got off him, moving his broken friend's head to rest on his lap and began stroking his hair lovingly. "Of course you're not a monster," he cooed tenderly. "You're so wonderful. How could you ever be a monster?"
After a sharp intake of breath, the white haired boy opened his eye again.
"I don't... want to... hurt you. I... I love you."
A tear rolled down Muraki's face. Oriya didn't know if the tear was his, though, since his own tears were falling directly over his friend's face. Oriya chuckled with a hint of sadness.
"I love you more," he teased, his voice breaking. Muraki gave him the tiniest of smiles, that still seemed to throw some light into that obscure scenario.
"No, I..." He winced. "I love... you more."
Oriya bent down to kiss the top of his head.
"Stubborn; but that's how I like you."
"You..." Muraki winced again, his face growing paler with each second, colder to the touch. "You still... like me...? After....?"
"Yes," Oriya said sternly, gazing deep into his one good eye. "Always."
He could tell Muraki wouldn't be able to remain conscious for much longer. Not only he'd lost a lot of blood, he was in pain and had just undergone the greatest emotional stress of his life. So, just in case, he placed a firm, yet tender kiss on the other boy's lips, praying there would be someone coming to help them soon, otherwise he'd have to kill that thing and go get help himself.
Inari had had an idea, a great idea. An idea so brilliantly simple Hijiri couldn't believe he hadn't thought about it himself. Of course, he knew he hadn't had the means or the information necessary to come up with it, but he still felt a little embarrassed. And Inari had suggested it with such humbleness! Sometimes, Hijiri suspected that Inari's polite and humble manners were a pose to make people believe he was cute.
With a smile, Hijiri shook all the pettiness away and stopped walking; the others did the same. No one said a word, but the three seemed to agree as to where the demon was. The demon's presence behind the auditorium's doors was more than palpable. It was a bad sign; it meant the demon didn't thought it was necessary to conceal himself. Hijiri didn't even want to think about what his last words could have meant, but he knew that, with every second that passed, they were giving him time to complete whatever it was. If there was one thing they couldn't waste, that was time.
Tsuzuki, Inari and himself shared a look of silent understanding of the others' nervousness. This was it; if Inari's plan didn't work, the demon would win and, what was worse, he'd be able to leave and repeat that same hell somewhere else. As far as Hijiri was concerned, that was not an option. He took a shaky breath.
"OK," he whispered, "We should go over the plan one more time. Nothing can go wrong, agreed?" Inari and Tsuzuki nodded gravely. "Inari-san, you go in first. Pay no attention to what he's doing; you just attack him. Make him think you're all we've got; don't hold back. Tsuzuki and I will be by the door; we can't afford him noticing us. Don't worry, though; we'll be there to back you up in no time, OK?" Inari nodded; Tsuzuki cleared his throat.
"Excuse me," the boy said timidly, "but no one had told me how is it that I am going to help."
Hijiri tried his best to keep his own doubts and fears from his answer, only succeeding partially. He was really worried- afraid, even- that the plan wouldn't work; he was afraid it would work, but only too late; he was afraid of the demon's sworn revenge. He was afraid, more than anything, of the effect that whatever would happen next would have on Tsuzuki. Hijiri would have wanted nothing more than to keep him out of it, to go back home with the memory of a happy Tsuzuki, one that still had some hope in life and in himself.
The shinigami simply wouldn't forgive himself if he, even indirectly, robbed Tsuzuki of the opportunity of a happier life this time around. But it was too late to protect him; not only had the violet eyed boy seen too much already, they depended on him to stop something that would scar him even more- because Tsuzuki would blame himself, if the worst happened. Hijiri sighed, praying to the heavens it would work out fine, and took Tsuzuki's hand in his.
"You just follow my lead and stay calm. If it doesn't go our way, we'll work something out; it won't be your fault, OK? Everything will be alright." Tsuzuki nodded hesitantly.
Hijiri didn't waste any time, placing himself behind Tsuzuki and taking both his wrists. He rose Tsuzuki's arms until they formed a straight line with his shoulders. With a nod, he signaled Inari to go in and braced himself. Seeing the shikigami disappear behind the auditorium's doors, he leaned to whisper in Tsuzuki's ear.
"Repeat after me: Bowing before you I present my wish, to the twelve gods that protect me,"
"Bowing before you I present my wish..." Tsuzuki barely whispered. Hijiri moved his hands so that his fingers touched. The position reminded him of that of a prayer, which he thought to be quite suitable. "To the twelve gods that protect me..." He gave his hands a little squeeze, to give him courage.
"Blade of air, steel of vacuum..."
"Blade of air, steel of vacuum..." The faintest of powers began gathering around and inside Tsuzuki, who trembled slightly when he felt it happen. Hijiri, in all honesty, couldn't believe it was working. He shouldn't have been surprised, though; he should have trusted Tsuzuki's inner strength and the hold he had on anyone who he considered a friend; even through the ages.
"Bearing fang of silvery-white..."
"Bearing fang of silvery-white..."
Hijiri tightened his embrace as the power grew stronger; after all, it wasn't something meant to be handled by mere humans. It would do them no good if Tsuzuki passed out. Not that he minded having the boy so close; not one bit. The last few words curled on his tongue; Hijiri needed to take one deep breath before uttering them, knowing there would be no turning back after he did.
Hisoka had always known, if only on a subconscious level, that he would die young. It had always been there, at the back of his mind. He knew, somehow, that he'd been lucky to see his 16th birthday. But nothing, not even having grown up empathic, could have prepared him for such a bizarre, tragic and frightening end. In a daze, he watched as the demon used one sharp nail to slice the skin of his stomach and chest with surgical precision.
A demon; it was a demon doing this to him! The same, by the way, that had already tried to kill him twice. He'd realized right away- maybe because of Tsuzuki's tale, maybe out of common sense- that the creature was a demon. He'd also realized that Muraki wasn't as bad as he'd thought him to be, nor as good as he'd hoped he was. The white haired boy had used him to get to the demon, to have something to trade with, in exchange of satisfying his own needs, with no regards for his life; even if it was now obvious he hadn't really intended to kill him; at least, not in the end. But, as angry as he might have been with Muraki, by no means he believed the boy deserved the torture the demon had submitted him to, if only because Hisoka could tell the white haired boy had acted simply out of confusion and a deep emotional pain the demon himself had made sure to worsen to take advantage of him. He had felt it, from both of them.
That was another thing. He could feel the demon's vile and filthy presence; it was the same choking darkness from before, only now, that it should have been worse thanks to the direct contact, it just wasn't enough to make him pass out, to at least kill him in a more dignifying way. It as only enough to make him wish he was dead.
That could have been caused for one of two reasons. Either the demon knew he was an empath and had deliberately tried to kill him twice before, exacerbating his aura, or he knew he was an empath ad was now holding back to keep him awake and aware for what had to be a torture worse than choking to death on dark emotions. Just the fact that the demon was still busy slicing skin, causing a stinging and awkward sensation, was enough to know it wouldn't be fast. Besides, the thing seemed to be enjoying every hiss and wince those black nails got out of him a little too much.The scariest part was that one option didn't necessarily ruled out the other. He didn't mind dying as much as knowing there were creatures out there that knew that much about him and how to hurt him.
Hisoka closed his eyes, unable to look at that unnatural face a moment longer and trying to understand what was happening to him. He could feel his own warm blood trailing down his belly, he could feel the air brushing cold in contrast against his raw flesh. Everything was too surreal; he just wanted to sleep, never mind if he never woke up again. The demon, without stopping his task, began speaking. Hisoka listened, he didn't have much choice in the matter, but he did not open his eyes."Things might not have worked out quite as well as I'd expected," he said casually, "but I can still get something from this whole mess, after all."
Hisoka couldn't stop himself; Muraki hadn't been able to answer him, maybe the demon would be different. He did have a right to know.
"Why me?" he whispered and, immediately, he found himself sympathizing with aforementioned white haired boy, the same that was to blame for his current dilemma. Was it his fate too? Was that the reason he'd always known that moment would come; sooner rather than later?
"Don't flatter yourself," the demon snickered. "You're insignificant to me. Your death, however, will be the perfect punishment for a friend of yours that has a bit of history with our kind."
Hisoka knew; he didn't know how he knew, but he did. The demon was talking about Tsuzuki. He was going to kill him to hurt Tsuzuki and, though the plan made no sense to him whatsoever, it pained him to think he would cause Tsuzuki to suffer in any way. He'd wanted to get to know the amethyst eyed boy, to help him heal that beautiful soul of his, not to become yet another scar in it. This was certainly not what he'd expected when he'd felt that deep bond between him and Tsuzuki's lives, but he guessed there was no use arguing with Fate; Muraki was living proof of that.
If there had been anything he could have done to stop the demon, he would have done it. As it was, all he could do was wait and wish for a miracle as the demon moved his sharp nails to his neck. Though it didn't seem like much, he did just that; pray.
The answer to that prayer came a hell of a lot faster than he'd dared to expect and in a form he wouldn't have ever imagined. A surprised growl from the demon made him open his eyes. Dazed and in a state of utter disbelief, he saw a thick vine wrapping itself around the demon's throat. His eyes followed the vine until they came across its source; a green and bright being that looked as beautiful and pure as the demon looked vicious. The demon cut the vine in two and turned, furious, to his mysterious attacker.
"Don't you people ever learn?!" he bellowed, throwing dark fire towards the creature.
The green man-like being didn't manage to dodge the blow in time. Hisoka saw his hopes crumbling as his uncanny savior fell to the ground, seemingly hurt and way too tired for such a short fight. He was ready to go back to praying when a burst of white lightening blinded him for a moment. The searing light must have been an explosion of some kind, he decided, and he was now dead, dreaming the last moments of his existence, because there was no way there was a white tiger the size of a house standing by the door. Not that anything about that night had been that believable, though.
The demon shrieked in horror at the sight.
"You...! How..?!"
No one bothered to answer him. For his part, Hisoka was really enjoying the sight of the demon about to pee his pants; pain and all, dream or not. The tiger threw himself at the demon, jaws open and with a feral look in his eyes, while the green creature threw his vines at him again, this time covered in thick thorns. With the demon securely tied up and wailing, the tiger went straight for the throat. Everything after that happened too fast to understand, or re-account. There was a yelp from the demon, a roar from the tiger and a cheer from the green fellow when, after a matter of seconds, the demon exploded- literally and violently- into a million pieces. The monster's last scream lingered in the air, as tiny red sparkles rained down on them.
Hisoka was a bit too stunned to claim he was happy for the sudden, unexpected and, well... weird victory. For all he knew, his tired mind had made the whole thing up; hell, he could be the next thing in the tiger's menu!! He looked around, trying to find something- anything- that told him the nightmare was really, truly, over. And, go figure, he found it. Him, standing still by the door, the red rain fluttering around him. he had his beautifully strange eyes fixated on him, as if in a trance. All of the sudden, the red rain had turned into the Sakura petals from his dream, the wooden door into the tree trunk, and Hisoka knew, for certain, he'd been saved. 'You really can't escape Fate, huh?' he thought with a smile.
"You baka," he whispered, knowing that he couldn't hear him but unable to stop the words from leaving his lips, as if they were a line he'd been rehearsing for years, as if that were a scene he'd been waiting to play. "What are you doing here?"
Nothing about that night, as unbelievable and scary as it had been- still was; not all the shocks of his life put together, could have compared to seeing Hisoka there, tied and bleeding. 'I'm too late,' he thought irrationally, the knot on his throat growing tighter. Somehow he'd known it was Hisoka they were trying to save; he'd known it was he who was in real danger. Why, then, did he feel like he'd failed? Hisoka was still alive; he was staring at him, in fact. Maybe it was because he'd also known it wasn't just the boy's body they needed to protect.
It wasn't that he saw something disturbing in Hisoka's gaze what forced him to avert his eyes; it was more like a fear of what he would find there if he stared too long. How far had the demon gone? He didn't know; but Hisoka was half-naked and obviously wounded; it didn't take a genius to know he had gone far enough. And, to make matters worse, Tsuzuki hadn't been able to stop himself from thinking Hisoka's body was beautiful, only adding to his belief that he, himself, was a worthless scum. But, unfortunately, Tsuzuki chose the wrong place to focus his gaze on, since what he saw next did nothing to ease his growing feelings of guilt.
His eyes had landed on Muraki and Oriya. His white haired friend-cum-stalker was lying unconscious, blood all over him and, by the way a pale and beaten Oriya held a cloth to his face, there wasn't a chance in hell for it to be the demon's blood. Muraki was seriously hurt. Tsuzuki fell to his knees, his legs failing to provide the support his body needed anymore.
"I did this," he mumbled. And he had; the demon had said it was because of him he would do it, hadn't he? An old feeling, one he'd thought long since forgotten, invaded him. He wanted to scream, to crawl into a dark corner and weep; he wanted to die. "I did this."
"Yes, you did," a gentle voice said, merrily, as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. The hand, the voice, was like an anchor to the world he so desperately wanted to escape from. Tsuzuki's eyes darted to find the source of those dreadful words. It was Hijiri , smiling down at him as if he'd just told him he'd won the lottery and not that he'd just ruined two people's lives. "You saved them."
"Huh?" Tsuzuki blinked in confusion; wasn't this guy seeing the same thing he was?
He didn't have time to ask Hijiri why the hell he was so happy. Something big crashed hard into him. Tsuzuki fell on his back, yelping in surprise, as something raspy and wet made contact with his face.
"Tsuzuki-san! Tsuzuki-san!" a genki, yet deep voice repeated over and over again between licks. Yes, he was being licked, by something huge and furry... that could speak?
"Byakko-sama, he doesn't know who you are, remember?" Inari's velvety voice said politely, making the licking stop.
The furry thing- the tiger he had somehow helped Hijiri to invoke, he realized by Inari's words- got off him and Tsuzuki sat up, trying to open his eyes through what, he guessed, were liters of saliva. When he finally did manage, he found himself face to giant-face with the tiger, that was staring down at him with a... yes, a pout.
"Byakko-sama?" Tsuzuki asked timidly, eyes wide as saucers, even though he wasn't sure exactly what was that he was asking. He wasn't really surprised, though; he doubted anything would be able to surprise him, ever again. The tiger huffed loudly.
"I don't care if he doesn't remember me!!" And, with that, the huge and crazy animal began nuzzling his face. "I missed you, Tsuzuki-san!"
In spite of everything, the inexplicable show of affection caused Tsuzuki to giggle, as he buried his fingers in the crazy tiger's soft mane, petting him. It was a pleasant, and dare he say, welcomed, distraction, but Tsuzuki couldn't let himself feel too much at ease. With one final pet to the cat's head he got up, intending to go to Hisoka and, at least, help him out of his binds. Hijiri, it seemed, had beat him to it, though. Tsuzuki looked down, saddened again. He distracted himself for a few moments and managed to fail Hisoka again. He was useless.
When two pairs of feet- one shoed, one barefoot- appeared before his eyes, and though he really didn't want to, Tsuzuki forced himself to look up. Hijiri was still smiling, almost conspiratorially; to his surprise- it seemed he could be surprised, after all- Hisoka was smiling too. He couldn't even stand on his own, having to lean on Hijiri for support, but his smile was as bright as the first rays of sunlight peering through the windows.
Hijiri helped Hisoka to sit by the door and, winking at the younger boy, he said.
"He's all yours now." The shinigami gestured Inari to follow him to where Muraki was and, in turn, Inari began literally dragging a mumbling and protesting Byakko in that direction. Before leaving them alone- or something that passed as being alone with Hisoka, that was as uncomfortable and awkward as the real thing- Hijiri gave Tsuzuki's shoulder a squeeze and whispered in his ear, "Good luck."
Were all super-natural beings completely insane?
Tsuzuki knelt down next to the green eyed boy. Since he dared not to look at Hisoka in the eye, he focused on the nasty gush on the boy's neck, that was still bleeding a bit.
"You're hurt," he muttered dumbly. He wanted to say something, that he was sorry for getting him involved in that horrid ordeal, that he hoped he hadn't been hurt beyond repair. He wanted to trust that smile he'd seen. All he could do was to grace his fingers gingerly near the wound and feel his own eyes filling with tears. "I... I'm so..."
"Baka Tsuzuki," Hisoka interrupted him with a scold. He did look at Hisoka's face, then; the green eyed boy was looking at him with a tired, but amused expression. "I'm no damsel in distress, and you are not the dragon, if I remember correctly." Hisoka took his right hand in both of his and, as if he hadn't had his share of surprises for a life-time- kissed his palm softly. "My prince charming."
Hisoka's tone was reverent, awed and utterly, utterly happy. Tsuzuki couldn't understand how such a miracle had occurred, but Hisoka was still Hisoka, and he did not hate him. In fact, it seemed he liked him more! The older boy felt as if the weight of the entire solar system had been lifted from his shoulder, finding Hisoka's smile to be extremely contagious.
"I tried to get here sooner," he said with humor in his voice, "but I couldn't find my white horse. I looked everywhere!! I had to settle for a white tiger, I hope you didn't mind."
Hisoka laughed softly, honestly, and placed a hand to the side of Tsuzuki's face, gazing deep into his eyes. It should have seemed weird, awfully forward of Hisoka to just lean to be inches away from his face, just like that. It didn't, though.
"I love you, you know?" The green eyed boy whispered hoarsely, both from exhaustion and something else. Tsuzuki could feel his warm breath on his lips. It was definitive, he was all surprised out.
"So soon?" he whispered back. "You do realize we've known each other for a week." And yet... All he knew for certain was that Hisoka's lips were more and more tempting with each second that passed. He hadn't even noticed he'd been staring at them. If it was even possible, the younger boy inched closer.
"I love you. With all my heart. Forever."
"It's about time," he heard himself saying, right before he captured Hisoka's lips in a deep, long-awaited kiss.
They hadn't had to look for long. Just as Tatsumi had predicted, 003 had been waiting, offended and cranky, inside the infirmary. He had to admit, he was glad they had found her before she got hurt, or something. It didn't even bother him that the little parrot was now stealing all of Watari's attention. She- as her master- was becoming a very important part of his life.
'What-a-night!' he thought tiredly. Watari and he kept walking through the damn halls, searching classroom after classroom for what it had seemed like forever. It seemed that not even the sun coming out had a saying on when that hellish night would come to an end. Would it ever? His eyes had enough sand in them to tell the time of day, but they still had to find Tsuzuki... and Midori... and Kenji, and wait for the ambulance, and the cops and, for what he'd seen of certain parts of the school, start looking for either a construction company or a moving agency. Never mind thinking about building a relationship.
As tired as he was, though; as hellish as the night had been, he dreaded the moment he finally went to bed. There was, of course, the fact that he shared a room with Tsuzuki; he knew he would feel compelled to tell him everything as soon as he saw him. How the hell does one explain to his ex that, within a day of having dumped him without warning, he'd started seeing someone else? But Tatsumi was also scared of what a night- or day- of sleep would do to his and Watari's choice. What if one of them woke up regretting it?He turned to look at the blond- his blond- for a moment. Watari, even as he pleaded to the little bird to stop giving him the cold shoulder, oozed so much joy Tatsumi couldn't help feeling a little more rested. Watari somehow managed to make things look less complicated and, God, was he tired of complications! Everything seemed easier around his petite blond; worth it. He kissed the top of the blond's head on impulse. He really loved the nutty, didn't he? Who would have thought love could bring you happiness? Watari looked up, giving him a bright smile, before going back to his pleas.
Tatsumi poked his head into the last classroom. Empty; just like all the others. That left only the auditorium. He let out a sigh of relief when, through the hall's windows, he saw the flash of blue and red blinking light. Things seemed to be looking up, thank heavens. Now all he had to do was walk the few meters that separated him from the auditorium's doors and dump the rest on the nurse, who he believed he'd seen running along with Tsuzuki.
But walking that extra distance proved to be a lot harder than he'd expected. They were open, you see? The auditorium's doors, that is, leaving no obstacles between himself and a sight he certainly hadn't been ready for. He was immediately frozen in place and Watari, who'd been walking as distractedly as only he could walk, bumped right into him.
"Oi! Stop doing that!" the blond whined. Soon, though, he heard him gasp. Apparently, he'd seen what had made him stop. "Oh, Seii..." Watari said, his voice grave and worried.
Tatsumi began scanning his brain for a suitable reaction. Should he be shocked? Outraged? Sad? He honestly didn't know. He guessed he was shocked; it's not everyday that you find a person you called a lover only the day before, kissing someone they've known for less than a week. He guessed he was a little angry, too; here he was, worrying about the way to convince Tsuzuki that he wasn't an complete bastard, while he gave Hisoka a tonsil inspection. But that didn't last more than a second, before he realized he wasn't really sad; at all. He had seen it coming, in a way; hadn't he?
No; Tatsumi wasn't sad. It was weird, but witnessing that kiss only brought a sort of order to his mind and heart; to the universe. He wasn't sure what his reaction would be after he was actually rested and his brain started working again, though; for now, he was honestly happy for Tsuzuki- and himself. It felt right.
Watari rubbed his back comfortingly, resting his head on his shoulder.
"Are you OK?" the blond asked fearful.
Tatsumi turned to look at him, a genuine smile forming on his face. From the corner of his eye he saw, as if on cue, how two young women helped the last item of their search along. It was officially over.
"Everything is wonderful." He said, bending to kiss Watari full on the lips. "Now, what do you say we go to bed? I don't think Kurosaki-kun would mind me crashing on his bed, do you?"
Watari shook his head no a little hesitant, but a smile of his own was beginning to illuminate his already luminous face.
Yes; everything was as it should be.
OWARI
I can't believe I just posted the last chapter!!! Don't worry guys, I'm writing the epilogue as you read this! I need your opinion on something, though. I'm now going to focus on my Saint Seiya fic, but I want to know which fandom would you like more for my next fic: FAKE, Pet Shop of Horrors, or Slam Dunk? There's a bit of a summary for all three fics I'm planning to write on my profile. Check'em out and let me know. Ok? If I know anything about myself, I'll prolly end up writing all three at the same time, anyway.
Onto the Reviews!
craized artist: Sorry! I swear it's necessary to cut them there! To keep the suspense, you know? Story ain't good enough to survive without the suspense!! Glad you like the tat/wat. There'll be more of them in the epilogue! Hugs.
Nsib: Pressure is pretty much killing me, but slowly- like cigarettes- so no worries. So, what did you think? And yay, go Muraki! Poor thing, he didn't get a happy ending 'entirely', but it wasn't so bad, ne? Hugs.
Keruri1222: Dorky is good! I love dorky! I'm a dork and totally proud of it. I don't play video games anymore, though, because I'm totally addicted to them and don't know where to stop. Totally addicted! I used to steal money to go to the arcade!Never smoked pot, though, so that's OK, I guess. LOL. Always wanted to play FF, though. My fingers itch for a joystick!!! Mwuahahaha! Anyway, I'm glad you didn't think the battle scene sucked. I'm still blushing from all the nice things you said and I hope you don't think the ending sucked. Huggles.
Kara Angitia: Awww, T.T, I don't want it to be over, either. But it's happening. And I'm kinda happy I could see it through. This is the trial by fire, I guess. Never written such a long story, I don't know what you guys will think of it now it's done. Anyway, huggles and thanks for being there for so long o.o Long live the ninjas and mad scientist dudes...
Schatten Wolfendorf: Hey! Me alegra mucho que te gustara el tìtulo de editora. Te lo has ganado!! Seii es mucho mas facil como adolecente (no pun intended) Las hormonas lo hacen un poquito menos... er... rigido? Yay! Te gusto Inari? De veras, de veritas? No queria que fuera un super-shiki yo-todo-lo-puedo, pero tampoco lo queria un inutil n-n Y me alegra que no te parecieran pateticas las escenas de pelea -.-; Bueno, espero que no te decepcionara el final. Besos!
SapphireDragon: Waaaa! I'm sorry it took so long! It's just so long and I had to take so much care of not ruin it!! I hope it was worth the wait! Hugs.
Mel-chan: No criticism? Phew! Lol. This is it, if you guys didn't like this, I'm screwed! (passes out from the pressure) Huggles dear, and thanks for being there!
BakayaroManiac: Oriya and J.Depp? Actually... you're right! Eeep! Yes, there'll be an epilogue, so don't worry. Huggles, keep those happy thoughts and thanks for the cookies!! They were delicious!
azdriel: Ah! Espero que no te haya molestado lo de Byakko! Cuando lei tu review dije, caray, ahora que hago? Por que lo tenia planeado desde hace mucho. Pero mi amor incondicional por los Shikis de Tsu-chan termino por ganar. Sorry!! Todavia seguis pensando que la historia no es predecible? No se, no se... Era medio obvio que terminaria bien, ne? Y Muraki? Que pensas ahora de Muraki? Creo que nada, por que todavia falta el epilogo para aclarar las cosas. Que te puedo decir? Gracias por estar ahi y espero no haberte desilucionado! Besos!
Ardwynna Morrigu: How was that conclusion for you? Too lame? Too long? Anyway, thanks for the support! I needed it! And it is nice to finish a fic, if only a little sad. Huggles!
Baka-Chibi: You can imagine how they hurt now! My fingers, that is. What do you think of Muraki now? Did I screw it? Thanks for loving the story n-n it means a lot to me!
Kurikuri: Hi there! Of course I would write more about Tsuzuki and Hisoka. I'm a huge Tsusoka fan, but it somehow got neglected in this story, because there were so many airings and such a complicated plot. I hope you didn't think the end was lame. Argh! I'm so nervous about it! Hugs and see you in DA, OK?
KT the bowslayer: I did it, I did it! Sorry it took so long, though. Long chapter, important chapter, busy author!! Did you like it? Hugs.
Ja Ne!!