*Drumrolls* Charpter Seven done. Sorry, sorry, sorry it took me so long to post this. Please read the following.
There are some things I have to explain about the story based on what I read in the reviews so please bear with me. I also have to thank my reviewers who were the real encouragement behind the continuation of this story.
Ok. First of all, ***Buhuu-huu-huu,*** no one likes my poor Isorous, :'( buhuu-huu. *Crying waterfalls*
JUST KIDDING. I'm actually HAPPY that everyone hates him. Happy, happy, happy. Because - guess what - I hate him too. He's an arrogant, mean, ruthless, sadistic bastard and I want to grab him and punch him in the face and...well, you guys said it much better in your reviews. I'm just glad that I managed to make his character so awfully unlikable. That was my whole intention all along, and I'm happy I achieved it. BTW, he does have a back story that will come up later to explain some of his motives.
About Isorou's intentions with Watari, well, he's about the only person that Isorou hasn't hurt (or at least Isorou thinks so) Maybe Isorou wants an ally? Maybe he is lonely and is looking for a friend?
I wanted to thank some of the people who reviewed chapter 6 and said such nice things about my writing they almost made me die in happiness. I wanted to specifically mention their names and thank them, but when I went over the reviews, they were all so kind and nice I couldn't decide which ones to pick. So I say this, Thank you all who reviewed my story so far and gave me your kind opinions. You are the best.
Now, about the spelling errors, I'd have to explain that I'm not using a beta reader (which is a very bad idea, I know,) and I'm proofreading each chapter only twice (except this one that I did three times,) which isn't enough either. But it's all I can do to get the chapters out as fast as I can. I'm so busy with life right now that writing the story alone is a huge task for me. I don't want to be delayed by an equally busy beta reader as well.
All right, without further ado, I present to you Chapter Seven: Phase 3 of "the Trial."
And here is a warning: There is a new OC in this chapter. And *gasp*, she's a woman. ;)
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The Trial—Chapter Seven
The light is gone. It's so dark here, dark and cold. This wind...it never lets up. Just keeps blowing. My body is shivering. Am I cold? It's so hard to tell. They say it never gets too cold in Meifu. So why does my body keep shivering? I should make it stop. I should try to stay very still or else the metals in my wounds will stab me. I'll bleed to death if I don't stop shaking. I have to stop, I have to, but I can't.
I don't think my body is listening to me anymore. My knees went numb a long time ago. It's like I don't even feel my legs anymore. Same with my arms, and the rest of me. All I can feel now are the wounds, the way they outline my body. It is as if my body doesn't exist at all and in its place, there is this giant, bleeding wound. I don't really know were my flesh lives. Where I am and where the pain is. I just know that I hurt, hurt too much, and I want this to end. End the pain, end me. Maybe I should summon Touda again. Let him take care of things. But I don't want to get the shikigamis involved. Besides, if I do that then Hisoka...
Oh God, Hisoka. I hope he is ok. I hope they didn't harm him. That man, Isorou...he promised not to. I'm not there to see if he keeps his promise. Tatsumi is not there either. Tatsumi...where are you? Why aren't you here to help me? You always helped me, held me when it hurt too much. Why not now? Why not when I need you most? Why did you leave me?
Hisoka said Tatsumi's gone mad. It's probably because of me. Because I caused them all so much trouble. Like I always do. All I bring them is trouble. They care so much for me and look what I do to them. I never should have existed. A worthless demon-bred like me should have just died and never become a shinigami. Maybe it's not too late. Maybe I could die now and end it for all. I wished I could do that. Die. Get away from the pain. It wouldn't hurt so much if I died, would it? I'd make it quick, make myself free...and then the others would be free of me too. I should summon Touda now. But, Hisoka...
If only I could get some rest. That's all I'm asking for right now. Just a little break from it all. Gods who protect me, please hear my plea. Allow me a small reprieve, a little break. Just a short time with no pain. Take the pain away just for a little while. Take me away from this place. I am not running away. Swear to you I am not. I just need to get some strength. To come back and face my challenge with more resolve. I need that to survive. Can't hold out when I am this weak. I have sworn to get through this, I don't want him to win, I don't want my friends to pay for my mistakes. But I need some rest; need to gain some strength. I am so tired, so hurt that I think I'm losing it. And gods, if you only could grant me a break…
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Watari wrung the wet rag and let the last droplets of water fall into the bowl before he covered Hisoka's fevered forehead with it. The boy was exhausted and still unconscious. He had been like that since those spooky minions had brought him into the office. Good thing Watari had been awake that time of night, working on experiments, otherwise poor Hisoka would have spent the rest of the night unconscious in a chair in the middle of the cafeteria and shocked the shikis out of anyone who had come in the next morning. Watari was thankful Hisoka was not heavy. Carrying an unconscious, full grown shinigami all the way to the infirmary that hour of the night was not part of his nightly exercises.
'Bastards' he thought as he removed the rag and checked the boy's temperature. Hisoka did not suffer from a real illness, and his fever was mainly due too much emotional stress. Watari wanted to know what had happened that night though, what was done to him and by whom. He could easily make a few dead-on guesses. The guards that had carried him inside, the head wound that was just beginning to heal and the bruises on his face that Watari had a chance to look at before they disappeared. They all pointed to one man. 'Again' the blond scientist mused as he took the bowl and walked over to the sink. 'He hit him again.' His mind couldn't stop pounding on that thought. He stood by the sink bracing his hands against the rim and closed his eyes. At once, images began to flow in his head, unpleasant images that made him grit his teeth. He opened his eyes, turned the faucet and watched the water splash around before holding the bowl under it. 'Why? Why? Why?' he silently screamed. 'Why won't you leave my friends alone? Why do you have to keep hurting them?' The bowl was roughly knocked into the sink and Watari put his head in his hands, water splattering all over his face and hair. 'Why? Why?' he repeated like a broken record, asking the unseen powers who might be listening to him. 'Why should all this happen?'
He heard the door lightly open behind him and turned. Wakaba was standing by the doorframe looking at Hisoka with a clouded gaze. It was a wonder she was awake this hour in the morning.
"I've heard what happened. Hajime-chan saw them bring him in, and he said there was blood." She turned her sad eyes toward him. "How is he doing, Watari-san?"
Watari straightened his hair and reached for a towel. Keeping his back to the female shinigami he said, "He seems to be all right, thank goodness. I still don't know what happened."
Wakaba's face tightened with grief. "Hajime-chan said that he probably went to see Tsuzuki-kun. Hajime-chan saw him walk in that direction. He said he suspected Hisoka-kun's intentions but didn't bother to stop him. He said the boy should know better himself. I called him an idiot." Slowly, she came to stand next to the bed, brushing strands of sandy blond hair out of the slumbering boy's face.
"He looks so peaceful," she said, moving her hand over Hisoka's brow. "After all he's been through. He's only a child." Just then, Hisoka turned his head and breathed, his eyebrows knotting together as he murmured, "Tsu... ki."
Wakaba quickly pulled her hand away and put it over her mouth. The tears came unbidden; she wasn't able to stop them. Just then, she found herself surrounded by warmth and care in the form of a large, white lab coat, and arms that wound around her shaky shoulders. She rested her face on the thin layer of white and let her sobs break free. Watari kept holding her tightly while his own eyes fought to stay dry. After the girl finally calmed down he unfolded his embrace and looked her deeply in the eyes, one hand moving to brush the remainder of tears from the her beautiful face. "You better go wash up, Wakaba-chan. We must return to work in a few hours. I've heard the children are going back to ChiJou today. You don't want them to see you all teared up, do you?" She nodded and sniffed. "Thank you Watari-san. I will go now. Please, take good care of him." Taking one last look at Hisoka, she slowly turned and walked away.
Watari felt a headache coming and pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead. He walked back to retrieve the rag and bowl and resume his care of Hisoka. This time, when he put the cool wet cloth over the heated face the boy twitched. Watari immediately pulled the cloth away and watched as jadeite eyes slowly opened. They blinked at the ceiling for a moment before slowly turning toward him with a dazed expression in their sea green depths.
"Welcome back." Watari smiled, forcing his best genki tone and adjusting the grin to project an air of comfort.
Hisoka's only response was to close his eyes. He looked weary. "How are you feeling?" The older shinigami asked as he reached forward with the wet rag to wipe at the boy's face.
"W…water." Hisoka croaked.
Immediately, the scientist was at the sink and back with a glass of cool water. But when he brought it to Hisoka's lips, the boy turned his head away. "N-no, not me. Tsuzuki." He pointed with his hand toward the window. Watari was frozen, not sure exactly what to do.
Hisoka gulped a few times before speaking again. "I forgot." He whispered hoarsely. "Forgot to bring him another bottle. He was so thirsty. Should have known..." he trailed off. It was difficult to talk when your heart and throat were so terribly constricted.
Watari slipped a hand behind the young shinigami's head and tipped the glass to his mouth. "Drink a little, Bon. You need your strength back."
Hisoka complied. After that, he simply laid on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Watari had thought him asleep when, a few minutes later, he started speaking. " I went to him, you know." A nod, the older man knew whom he was talking about. The gesture, however, was lost to the boy. "I brought him water and food. Donuts. Fresh, honey glazed donuts. They're his favorite. I couldn't give them all to him though. Isorou showed up and grabbed me from behind when I was feeding him the second one. They rolled to the ground, all of them wasted, right in front of his eyes." He turned his head to look at Watari who was numbed by his confession. Green eyes shimmered with unshed tears and the boy's face took a sad, crestfallen expression. "I forgot the extra bottle, Watari. He was so thirsty he drank it all at once. The donuts must have been sticking to his throat...and they all rolled to the ground."
Watari came to his side, brushing his hand over the blond head. "Shh, Bon. It is not your fault." Hisoka seemed to ignore him, lost in his own miserable world. "He was...in so much pain. So much it almost burned me. When I first touched him tonight...it was like touching brimstone. I couldn't bear to go near him. I know he shielded it later; he is good at that, you know. But no matter how many shields he raised up, the pain was still there. I didn't need my empathy to know how much he was hurting." Tears started to flow from his eyes and some of it touched Watari's soothing fingers. "I can feel it even now, Watari-san. Even from this distance. And it's gotten so much worse. Isorou must have raised his punishment because of what I did; now he's hurting even more. And all because of me. Because I am this stupid, careless kid who can't do anything right. And what's worse, I can feel it all inside of me, as if his pain is a part of me. A real physical wound deep inside my gut, even if it is only a reflection of what he feels." He hugged himself tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, curling into a ball on the bed.
Watari kept up his ministration of the boy's head, fighting the pain in his heart. "Don't let it get to you, Bon. I'm sure you can find a way to block it. You've mastered that empathy thing a long time ago." Hisoka didn't raise his head from where it was tucked in the pillow and his next words were muffled. "I don't want to block it, Watari. I want to feel it all the way. Feel him; be close to him. Even if it means bearing his pain. I want to be with him at least in spirit."
Watari bit his lip. That sounded too much like something one would say about a loved one who had passed away. Of course, technically, they were all dead. But...he didn't want to think what would happen if Tsuzuki truly went away. He knew that if that were to happen that he, at least, would never be the same. Tsuzuki was the closest to a best friend he had ever had. He was the one with whom he joked and laughed and organized pranks. A world without him was like a world without the sun. Unimaginable. He looked down at the bundle on the bed and his heart tightened even more. What would happen to Hisoka if Tsuzuki died? He didn't even want to imagine how that would affect the already traumatized boy. Tsuzuki was the only one who had managed to bring Hisoka a little bit out of his shell, despite the many fights and squabbles the two of them had. They needed each other, and taking one away from the other was like killing them both. Thinking that, it was almost understandable that Hisoka wanted to hang on to this pain he felt from his partner. For as long as it was there, it meant that Tsuzuki was alive.
Come to think of it, Hisoka was lucky to have that link. The rest of them however...
Which brought to him the thought of another shinigami who was suffering the same way. Where had Tatsumi wandered off to? Watari had checked often enough to know he hadn't returned to his apartment in the past two nights. He hadn't taken any money with him either to stay at a hotel in case he was in ChiJou. What that meant was that he either had slept outside during those two nights or hadn't slept at all. Watari walked up to the window and pulled the curtain aside, looking at the overcast sky getting lighter by the approach of the day. The rising sun was shrouded by a layer of clouds and it looked like it was going to be a gray day. "Tatsumi...Tsuzuki..." he whispered woefully, thinking how he wished he could withhold this day from starting.
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His feet were on the ground. It was a strange feeling to be upright again, not having to shift on his knees. Not having to strain his neck or constantly look at the world upside down.
But where was he?
Tsuzuki rubbed his eyes with his freed hands and looked around. The landscape was deep red on all sides. Red sky, red stones, red soil. It was flat save for the crimson outline of some distant mountains. There were some trees too, here and there. But they looked more like skeletal hands rising toward the sky than actual living trees. The whole scene reminded him of paintings from a particular Western artist he had heard about in one of his missions; what was his name again? Something Dali (1). He had seen a few of his works and they sure looked a lot like this place.
He looked down at his body. His arms and legs were free, no more wires and barbs; no more bondage. Still, moving his limbs around didn't give him the unwinding satisfaction he had expected. He wasn't in pain, but he wasn't particularly relaxed either. It was more like a total lack of sensations.
He started walking in a random direction. It really didn't matter which way because everything just looked the same. 'What is this place?' he asked himself. 'How did I get here from Meifu? This must be a dream. But then, why does it feel so real.' He had only taken a few steps when he saw something white up ahead. 'Strange! Why didn't I see it before?' He started walking toward it, his steps light and airy as if he was floating. Everything was weightless and groggy and somewhat surreal in this place. Finally he got close enough to make out the object and saw that it was a figure of a young woman dressed in white and gold. She was resting on one knee on the ground, holding onto the hilt of a long, ornamented sword that stood on its tip in front of her. Her hair was platinum blond and long, so long it spread all around her on the ground. Parts of it was styled like a bow in the back of her head creating two perfectly identical crescents on either side of her face. Her eyes were closed and she looked like in prayer, or some kind of meditation. Tsuzuki stepped forward hesitantly, unsure if he was disturbing something. When the woman didn't move the shinigami took another step. Then he stopped all together, a few feet away from the statue-like figure.
The woman opened her eyes. Tsuzuki felt a jolt run through him upon meeting her gaze. There was something strange about those... purple eyes? No, they weren't really purple. More like a shade of lilac and red. It was the strangest eye color he had seen in a person aside from his own.
The woman slowly rose to her feet using the sword for support. She was tall and slim and wore a Greek deity kind of robe with a long mantle towing behind her. The sword was still in her hand, its tip scratching the ground as she moved forward. She walked very regally and stiffed-backed until she finally stood in front of him, the red-lilac eyes trained on his face.
"You are here, Tsuzuki Asato," She said in a melodic, medium-pitch voice.
"You...you know my name?" The shinigami asked.
"Of course I do. I'm Yano Ayaka." She passed the sword to her left hand and extended her right to greet him. Tsuzuki took it.
"Uh...Tsuzuki Asa-, I mean... nice to meet you," he said.
The woman smiled. She didn't let go of his hand but instead, used it to pull him along as she walked passed him.
Tsuzuki staggered. "W-wait. Where are we going, Yano-san?"
She turned with the smile still on her lips. "Please call me Ayaka. We are going to a place where you can rest."
"Rest?"
"Yes, you wished for a break, didn't you? This is it, so we better make the most of it. Please come with me, Tsuzuki-san." She turned and resumed walking. Tsuzuki had no choice but to fall in step behind her.
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"Is he still standing there?" The question was directed to the miniature butler positioned a few feet behind the invisible man. The little zombie bobbed his head, despite the fact that his master probably knew the answer better than him seeing as he was the one standing by the window.
The Earl placed one gloved hand against the windowpane and stared outside, at the man standing in full view of his bedroom window for the past twenty six hours.
"He sure is persistent." Again, an unnecessary nod from the butler answered it.
The invisible master sighed. His hand on the glass clenched into a fist briefly squeezing before he relaxed it. He turned from the window to look at his devoted employee who bowed his head in submission.
"This is not good." The Earl said. "Or perhaps it is, as I'm not sure about their exact plan." He made a gesture that could be seen as touching his forehead. His next words were laced with frustration. "They should have known. That precious child is loved by too many to be left alone. Something like this was bound to happen. I wished they had waited just a bit longer."
'But then again, it had been seventy years.'
He turned to the window in time to see a gust of wind ruffle the man's already tousled hair. The man's only reaction was to tighten his coat around him and fold a little more into himself. The sky was getting dark with more clouds. It looked like it was going to rain.
'Are you going to stand there even then? Will you continue to be the thorn in my eye?'
A reminder of what he was letting pass.
"Damn you, Enma-dono."
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The place where she took him was huge. She called it home but it was more of a palace. The room they were sitting in could fit his whole apartment in Meifu. It was decorated with highly ornate yet comfortable furniture in all different shades of red. The tall walls were covered with old, heavily framed paintings over a layer of crimson velvet wall-cover. One side of the room was a row of floor to ceiling windows concealed by heavy burgundy draperies.
He took it all in as he sipped on a cup of hot chocolate Ayaka had given him. It was warm and rich, just like the room. He felt like staying there for a long time, not thinking about Meifu and the painful fate that awaited him there.
Ayaka was sitting across from him. She looked slimmer and more delicate now that she had taken off her mantel. She had a beautiful face and her eyes reflected the light of the fireplace crackling on the opposite wall. Tsuzuki felt warm looking at those eyes and he found himself sinking deeper into the easy chair he was sitting on.
"Are you comfortable, Tsuzuki-san?" Ayaka asked.
"Yes, thank you."
"Isn't this a much better setting than what you came from?"
That made him look up with fear, a spark flashing in his wounded, violet eyes.
Ayaka's hand rested over his on the table. "Don't worry, Tsuzuki-san. If you like it, you can stay here as long as you want."
Tsuzuki looked at her confused. "You mean... I don't have to go back?"
She tilted her head to the side. "Do you want to go back?"
A reminder of barbed wires and freezing wind brushed against his mind and he closed his eyes to will it away. "Do I have a choice?" he asked.
"You do. But it's up to you to make it."
Amethyst twins full of hope opened to her as the shinigami put the cup down and folded his hands in his lap. "What do you mean I should do?"
"You first have to answer my question. Do you like to stay here longer?"
It was so warm and comfortable in that room. The cushions hugged him like the soft recess of a cradle and the fireplace's warm hands caressed his tired and achy limbs. The warm cup of hot chocolate had done wonders to his insides. And was that cake he saw on the table?
"I want to stay longer," he said in a soft voice.
Ayaka's eyes brightened with her smile. "Really? That's nice. Do you want to stay here forever?"
"Huh?" Tsuzuki blinked. He didn't know what to make of the question. "You mean here, in this place? Forever?"
"Here or your own home if you want it. Main point is you don't have to go back to Meifu."
"But...my friends..."
"They can visit you here, or you can go visit them. But if you decide to go back permanently you will have to endure the trial."
A subconscious tremble in the hands was not lost to her. Tsuzuki lowered his head and looked at the cake and the unfinished cup of hot chocolate.
"You don't want to go back to that, do you?"
He turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "No, anything but that."
"Then stay. Stay and work for us instead of EnmaDiaOh who treated you so cruelly." He felt her hand touch his cheek and turn his head tenderly.
"What do you mean by us?" he asked in a monotone.
She stood up and reached for his hand. "Come, I'll show you."
They walked to a set of draped windows that turned out to be doors opening to an adjoining large balcony. They walked outside and the odd, scarlet landscape yawned in front of them with a few hills at different distances and a ginger-red river snaking across it. A warm wind blew over Tsuzuki's face and for a split second he thought he heard voices over it.
"This is where your home would be if you decide to join us. Join the forces of Lord Mahorath."
Mahorath. The name sounded vaguely familiar although Tsuzuki couldn't place it. He stared around in wonderment, at the desolate, peculiarly quiet fields. The wind passed by him again and the sound of distant voices became stronger in his ear.
"What kind of work?" he asked distractedly.
"Our work. Handling the wrongs and misdemeanors in the world of the dead. Taking care of those who have sinned."
Tsuzuki's head whipped around toward her, ignoring the sounds that were getting louder and louder by the minute. "Taking care of those who have sinned? You mean, this is-"
"-Makai. Yes, Tsuzuki-san, you have guessed right. This place is Hell." She said in one breath
And then, the vision in front of him changed. The calm and deserted landscape morphed into a crowded ground filled with anguished souls who were moaning and howling in the wind, slowly dragging their feet over the burning crimson fields. On their heels were fearsomely winged demons, forcing them on with fiery whips and pokers, and other instruments of torture they carried around for that purpose. And the air was filled with screams.
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"Doushita, Tsuzuki-san?""Huh? Oh,Tats'mi. It's you."
"I heard you crying. Did you have a bad dream?"
"Hmm? I don't know. I can't remember."
The lie was as apparent in the groggy, amethyst gemstones as were the tears on the petal soft cheeks. If Tatsumi's limited Reikan ability didn't tell him about his partner's state of mind, the younger shinigami's shaking limbs did.
He sat on the bed next to him. "You can tell me, you know."
"Don't worry, Tatsumi-san. I am alright."
'No, you're not. You never are.' Wordlessly, he bent forward and drew the other man into his arms. For a moment, it looked like the younger might protest. But eventually the inevitable happened. Tsuzuki laid his forehead on Tatsumi's shoulder and let his tears run free.
Tatsumi closed his eyes. "What was it about this time?"
The slender body tensed in his embrace. The voice he had grown to love and cherish whispered in a broken, pain-filled tone. "My fate. That I belong in hell with demons. They came for me. I was helpless as they took me away."
Tatsumi gritted his teeth. This thing with Tsuzuki and demons. Didn't he have enough trouble with his job as a shinigami that he had to torment himself with this false judgment of his destiny as well?
"Shh, it's all right. No one is here to take you away. You are an employee of EnmaCho and as long as you are a part of it, nothing is allowed to touch you."
Angelic face awash with tears turned up to peer at him, purple pools spilling over in cascades. "But they eventually will some day. It is my fate."
Tatsumi looked at him with an affectionate smile. "If that day ever comes, Tsuzuki-san, I promise that I'll be there to protect you. No matter what the cost, I will fight anyone who comes to harm you, even if it is the legions of hell. Now, go back to sleep because we have tons of work to do tomorrow."
A kiss on half lidded eyes. Purple fires slowly dying out, failing to see the next one that was placed hesitantly on the slightly parted lips.(2)
The memory slithered across his mind like sakura petals in the wind. Tatsumi Seiichirou tugged his coat tighter around him like a shield against the cold. He swayed a little on his feet, his body beginning to feel the toll of being upright for so many hours. He drew strength from the memory of the one he was doing this for, the one who thought himself unworthy yet to Tatsumi, was worth all the hardships in the world and much more.
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*Makai*
'No!'
Tsuzuki's face twisted with a hurt expression as he quickly pulled his hand out of Ayaka's and cradled it against his chest. His eyes were filled with a mixture of shock and feeling betrayed as if he were a well-tended puppy that was all of a sudden kicked outside.
Slowly, the longhaired woman drew her hand back and looked at her guest with unreadable eyes. She then turned toward the landscape, watching the souls of the sinners and the doomed being herded by their demonic wardens.
"Who are you?" Tsuzuki asked.
She turned. The disillusioned shinigami was still looking at her with a pained look in his eyes. So she replied, "I am a messenger from Lord Mahorath (3), king of the demons of Hell. I am sent to you to inform you of your options. You are chosen by the Lord to be freed from your trial."
"And this is what I have to become?" He stared in horror at the demons below wielding their whips.
"No," she turned her head away, eyed closed. "This is what you already are."
The world screeched to a halt for Tsuzuki. His hand slipped from his chest to fall lifelessly to his side, purple eyes widening and turning to glass. He was frozen in place, his mind repeating the age-old litany that had compromised his most frightening dreams since the days of his childhood. 'You are a demon, you are a demon, you are a demon...'
His lips moved in accordance with his thoughts, uttering the undeniable. "I am a demon."
Ayaka opened her eyes. "Yes, but not like them. They are lowly creatures doing a dirty job; you are so much more, Tsuzuki Asato. If you decide to join our legions, Lord Mahorath will declare you a Prince of Makai, as you truly are."
Moving up the ladder. Of evil and cruel enjoyment of others' suffering. Tsuzuki's eyes roamed over the land. Over images of pain and retribution played on the red tinged canvas - stained by blood – that was now reminiscence of the works of another artist, that of Hieronymus Bosch (4)
'A Prince of Hell.'
He felt the curtain of tears cover his eyes. His body trembling like a leaf in the wind.
'I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't...'
A hand touched his shoulder and he turned to stare into Ayaka's concerned eyes. "Tsuzuki..."
"Please, no. Not this. Not another seventy years of causing pain. Not another career in tormenting other people. I don't want to be the source of suffering anymore. I don't want to be responsible for judging sins."
"You won't have any hand in the judging, Tsuzuki. You will only execute the punishment. Others will take care of the judgment."
"Others..." he whispered. "Like Isorou?"
She bit her lip. There was really no answering that.
Tsuzuki pulled away from her and braced his hands against the railing. He wanted to shut out the grotesque scenes in front of him but somehow wasn't able to. When he spoke his voice was raspy and strained. "What are my options?"
Ayaka's eyes rested on him sadly. "Only those that I already told you. Accept Lord Mahorath's offer and become a Prince of Makai, or go back to Meifu to endure the trail."
And that was the end of it. Going back to endure the trial. After all that had happened, it sounded so unjust.
'But am I willing to escape my own torment to become the instrument of that of the others?'
He closed his eyes. He could almost feel the roughness of the wire against his chafed skin, the sharp pain of spikes digging into his desperately heeling flesh, demanding blood. He could hear the screams of his outstretched muscles, feel his worn out knees, taste the coppery tang of blood in the back of his mouth.
And hear the cries of the damned somewhere underneath him.
When he finally opened his eyes there was a look of resolve in them. He didn't turn to look at Ayaka. It was easier this way. One way or another he was lost. The only thing left was to accept it.
"I want to go back."
Ayaka's only answer was a nod. She seemed to have anticipated it, but that didn't help her sorrowful expression. With a wave of her hand the image dissipated, crumpling around itself like a painted curtain going down an invisible drain. Tsuzuki let out a gasp as he fell backwards into the ensuing void, his tears trailing behind him and sparkling in the darkness like so many shards of glass. Everything disappeared in a whirlwind of empty sensations as he fell down fast, plummeting deep into the bottomless pit.
And when it finally ended he was on his knees again. His arms stretched taught to the sides, serrated barbs clawing at his skin as the cold, merciless wind battered against his weakened body. He was back in his own personal hell, crafted and set up by Isorou Masaki.
tbc—
Sigh! Poor Tsuzuki-san. I think I liked this chapter more than the rest. I love Tsuzuki sooo much. Love him, love him, love him. He's the cutest puppy ever setting foot in the world of anime and manga *glomps Tsu-chan*
I hope you didn't dislike Ayaka. I kind of like her character. Wished I could have a picture of her but my drawing really sucks. What do you make of her proposition to Tsuzuki? Do you think Tsuzuki would have considered the other option? Let's make that the next question, shall we?
As always, reviews are much appreciated. They're the fuel to the writer's tired mind and the magic spell for her babbling muses (My sorry attempt at being poetic.)
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(1) Salvador Dali (1904- 1989): Spanish Surrealist painter and printmaker, influential for his explorations of subconscious imagery. [Encyclopedia Britannica]
(2) I'm such a sucker for this pairing. Can you tell I'm a diehard TxT fan? Here, I'm assuming Tatsumi felt more than simple friendship in his heart towards Tsuzuki when he was partnered with him.
(3) Made-up name. Couldn't find the Japanese name for the king of hell. Consider him Enma's equal, only on the dark side.
(4) Hieronymus Bosch (c. 1460 - 1518) A prolific Dutch painter of the 15th century. Many of his works depict sin and human moral failings. The right panel of his most famous work, The Garden of Earthly Delight, is a portrayal of hell with fantastic punishments of the various types of sinners. [Nationmaster encyclopedia]