I had every intention to post this chapter without having another long gap between it and the previous one. As it turned out it didn't happen. I was very busy and this chapter was very hard.
First of all, I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. From the reviews I gathered that most of you didn't like the ending to that chapter, which is understandable by the way things turned out. One thing I noticed however was that many for some reason thought that that was the end of the story all together even though I had said, both at the beginning and the end of the chapter, that there was another part coming up. So to everyone who hated the previous chapter and how it ended, I say don't worry. There's more to the story as you can see and I hope you like it.
What happened so far: After Suzaku manages to knock Isorou senseless Hisoka plunges into Tsuzuki's consciousness to ask him to wake up and stop the emerging Apocalypse. He learns that Tsuzuki has conjured Apocalypse in a special way that puts Tsuzuki himself at the center of the disaster to keep others from harm. Just as the shinigami and the guardian beasts are trying to figure out a way to protect each other they are magically transported to another dimension where Mahorath, the lord of hell himself, declares the trial's outcome to his favor and claims Tsuzuki as his own. Tsuzuki says goodbye to everyone and is then taken away to become part of Makai.
...o...
The Trial – Chapter Fourteen
Goodbye Tatsumi-san. You were always my special friend.
He sometimes had these bad dreams. Dreams that hurt. He rarely talked about them to anyone, except maybe Watari who had caught him lounging in his dark office once or twice after work hours. It had been a show of weakness.
I always looked up to you. You may not have noticed it but you have been my idol for a very long time. You were always so strong, so collected. You thought we made fun of you behind your back…well sometimes we did, very few times. But that didn't keep me from seeing you as my hero.
Most of those dreams had to do with Tsuzuki. Trust Tsuzuki to always be the one who brought him down to a sweating, quaking shell of himself. He barely ever cared about his own safety. He was a Kagetsukai, a very powerful one at that. Tsuzuki was powerful too, but his innocence and the excessive concern he had for other people always made him vulnerable. Something the shadow user both loved and despised about him.
Tatsumi-san, please forgive me. I know I haven't been the model employee for you in all these years. I've been clumsy and scatterbrained and caused you a lot of expenses. But believe me when I say I did try.
Try, try to remember. How did one get out of a dream that just wouldn't stop? Is it even possible for people to get stuck in dreams?
My feelings for you…I hurt so much when our partnership ended. But I know it was my fault. How could you work with me when all I ever caused you was trouble? Still, I wanted you to know…that I cherished every moment of it.
If it truly was a dream, could he step forward and take this Tsuzuki in his arms? This talking Tsuzuki who was a dream version of the real one? This Tsuzuki most likely created by the instruments of his imagination? Could he tilt his head up and inhale the scent of his hair? Could he touch the softness of his lips, part them tenderly and taste the sweet nectar of his mouth?
Goodbye, Tatsumi-san. I will never forget what we had together. You will always have a special place in my heart.
This was what his mind was creating, very simple and very far from reality. Look… the Watari of his dream was standing there too. He wasn't moving at all, not objecting to anything that Tsuzuki said, not even to his uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch forever. He was just looking at him. Just like Tatsumi himself. Oh, and Tsuzuki all of a sudden lunged forward and hugged him; his voice now muffled by tears. And Watari was still standing there. Why did his dream version of Watari look so stunned?
Suzaku wasn't stunned. Suzaku was angry, and fighting. She was fighting Byakko who was trying to hold her back. She didn't want Tsuzuki to go, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him. This is when Tsuzuki would look at her with his stunning purple eyes full of guilt and start apologizing.
I'm sorry…
I'm sorry.
Cold. Flames. Separation. Darkness. Vines, dark and wispy vines. So many of them. Encircling, crawling, trapping. A gasp. More darkness. Plunge. Lost.
Lost.
...o...
You are mine now. My Asato, my child of darkness. You will rise to great heights in my care, and will become truly worthy of your title as a Descendant of Darkness. The wheels of your destiny have finally begun to turn and you have no choice but to accept it.
The words meant nothing to Tatsumi who stood there, transfixed, watching the proceedings. Only after Tsuzuki was hidden from his eyes by the great darkness did he realize how desperately hopeless their situation was. He watched how Hisoka had thrown himself into Tsuzuki's arms and cried. How he had tried to make him stay, make him turn back for him again. Just like that time in Kyoto. And just like in Kyoto, he himself was stuck between two worlds, two decisions. Should he let him go, watch him fade away in the mist of a fate that looked so helplessly unavoidable. Or should he fight, do what he could for the one he knew - now more than ever before – that he loved more than anyone else in this world?
"Just as you taught me not to hesitate rescuing the one I love I want to teach you not to hold back showing him that you care."(1)
"Even I understand that Tsuzuki wants to die...You may want respect for such sentiments...but...that's just running away. What you want to do has nothing to do with what Tsuzuki wants. What do you want to do Tatsumi?"(2)
"Be there for him, Tatsumi-san. He needs our affection as much as our protection, to keep him safe from falling into the abyss of self-doubt. Don't get so lost in your sense of protectiveness that you ignore his other needs."(1)
"I'm sorry! If I live through this, I'll accept whatever the punishment is! But I don't want any regrets..."(3)
"There is nothing wrong with doing what you want Tatsumi. That's what Tsuzuki is doing...So it's all right for us to carry out what we want… (2)
Before he even knew it he was running toward the Lord of Hell calling upon shadows to rise from everywhere, rise and strike and kill, kill everything that would stand in their way. Only one thought circled in his mind, over and over now. To free Tsuzuki, to bring him back to what he were.
He ran past the crowd, past Hisoka and Isorou and passed the threshold where the god's tendrils had reached mere seconds ago. He called in the shadows and told them to surround Mahorath and his minions. He knew he was lucky; Mahorath's unearthly crimson light was creating enough contrast in the room to give him enough substance to work with.
'Just a few more paces, a few more tries, and I will have unfastened that darkness that swallowed Tsuzuki. I will reach with my shadows and pull the edges of that darkness apart to reveal him. I won't let Him take Tsuzuki away.'
He was putting all his determination and will power in it, clearing away all doubt, every hesitation that had ever plagued him. He had never felt so strong, so right. It was the way it should have been from the start.
"… After all, here and now isn't the place to determine who is in the right." (2)
With a scream he focused all his power on just that one attack…and legions of shadows came from behind him, from everywhere, rising up like huge dragon heads arching over his form and crashing into the godly assembly with the force of a thousand armies.
If this is the last thing I do before I pass on to the next life then so be it, because I want to leave this world without any regrets.
In the mayhem that ensued he saw the phantoms move. They formed a circle around their lord, and from it enormous energy shot out and tangled with his shadows. The two forces collided and spun, coiling and twirling around each other in a battle of invisible powers in mid air. His power was dark, theirs was like water, and their aerial fight created an image of dragons clashing in the sky over the ownership of the world like it was told in so many stories.
He shielded his eyes, the commotion and waves of energy that was emanating from the battle almost lifting him off his feet even though he was holding onto his footing with all his strength. When he dared to peek he saw that his opponents looked completely unfazed, the God of Hell himself standing there like a stone statue not even raising an eyebrow.
The explosion only happened a second later, and in the bright orange and yellow light of it he saw the winds and the shadows disappear, as if the mighty deity had finally been fed up with their ruckus and had decided to put an end to it. Only the god's power was beyond sufferable. It pulled the ground from underneath his feet and hurled him feets away to crash painfully on his side.
He shielded his head with his arms to guard himself against the blasts that followed and the force of rushing air as the evil god continued to unleash his anger, completely eradicating his paltry show of defiance. He could feel the ground shaking beneath him and the roar of explosions all around him. When it finally ended, settling in a nebula of dust and smoke covering him like a cold blanket, he knew he was finished.
But he hadn't anticipated not even having the strength to get up.
Perhaps the paralysis was part of the Hell Lord's magic. Perhaps his immortal body had finally given up, having been subjected to too much abuse in the past couple of days. He felt detached - numb - as if he had stepped outside his body and was now looking at it from a high angle. Perhaps that was the main reason why, when a minute later the cold repulsive tendrils of darkness looped around his body to lift him up, he was actually shocked that he could feel them.
His body was lifted off the ground helplessly by the force of the rising vines, holding him in place horizontally above the ground in a grotesque parody of a magician levitating a doll. His mind swirled as his head tilted backward, looking at the world from an up side down point of view. The upside down people yelled things he couldn't hear, the explosion having rendered his eardrums useless like the rest of his body. The upside down Watari ran toward him and was just outside his line of vision when he heard the hellish voice of the Demon King.
Stay back shinigami or be crushed by my powers. You scrawny creatures are so below my station it is an insult to address you.
That got him to react. With painful slowness Tatsumi raised his head to look into the face of evil. Although all he could see was the darkness underneath the helmet he knew the eyes of Mahorath were on him. He had gained his attention in what might have been his last chance.
"Let…Tsuzuki…go," he said between catching breaths.
As if his mere words had broken a dam inside the angry lord's spirit, a massive surge of frost blew at and around him, like gusts of wind in a stormy night that would batter against the face of anyone foolish enough to open the door to the outside. He clenched his teeth and rode through it and through the reproach that came afterwards.
Silence, kagetsukai. You are past my mercy with your actions. You should pray to your god that I'd go easy on you in your demise.
Praying to his god.
Maybe that was what he should do. He surely had felt it when he was at the earl's castle. The closeness, the presence, the feeling that someone was watching him the entire time.
'EnmaDiao. Please heed my call'
...o...
It was Tatsumi's mad dash toward Mahorath and the roar of the shadows that made Watari snap out of his state of semi-shock. He had been beyond bewildered when the God of Hell had appeared, so much so that Tsuzuki's hasty farewell wishes and his dramatic departure to the guts of hell had not fully registered in his brain until now. Now he saw in front of him the battle that raged between Tatsumi's faithful shadows and the winds, or waters, or whatever it was those phantoms had conjured, and then the explosion. Tatsumi being propelled from the center of it, lying defenseless on the ground only to be snared by Mahorath's black, ethereal filaments like Tsuzuki had been and held in the air, suspended in the promise of more harm to come. That was the part that kicked life back into his numb legs and jarred him to action. What was he doing just standing there anyway? He ran toward his friend, past Hisoka who was sobbing on the floor, and right into the territory of the frightening dark beings.
Stay back shinigami or be crushed by my powers. You scrawny creatures are so below my station it is an insult to address you.
It wasn't the words that jolted him into a stop, nor was it the intensifying bright red flames behind the god that seemed to flare up in accordance to his temper. It was the voice itself. Like a physical blow, an invisible wall suddenly appearing in front of him and keeping him from moving forward even an inch. He knew it wasn't real; there was no substantial form to the barricade he'd felt rising in front of him. It was an alternative form of fear, one that was injected to him by the shear frightfulness of that voice.
And just as effectively, it had stolen his voice away.
Or had it?
"Let…Tsuzuki…go."
Watari's head whipped around to see Tatsumi, his eyes going wide. Tatsumi was still fighting, despite the terrible odds. He wasn't going to give up on Tsuzuki and he was wagering his life on it.
It didn't surprise Watari at all. If anything, the quiet words gave him courage. He too would do his part in the battle no matter the outcome. If he were to lose his friends in this unfair conflict he might as well go with them to wherever those guilty of defying the gods of heaven and hell went.
Silence, kagetsukai. You are past my mercy with your actions. You should pray to your god that I'd go easy on you in your demise.
Watari stepped forward and raised his head.
"Stop it," he said.
Silence fell, as did all eyes on him.
There was something indescribably terrifying in the way the helmet turned fractionally toward him. Yet more fear as one of the smoky filaments reached out to touch his face. His teeth started to chatter so hard he lost control over his jaw entirely, the clatter in his mouth sounding ten times louder in his scull.
I see. Seems like all of you are due for a long well-deserved lesson in behavior and respect.
Watari stared at Mahorath like a trapped bird. He couldn't move, and after that initial outburst he was once again speechless. It also might have been because he absolutely couldn't stop his teeth from clicking even as he closed his mouth.
Just then he heard something and looked up. Up at Tatsumi to see his lips moving. Tatsumi was saying something and even through the sound of his own chattering teeth he was able to hear a word of it.
EnmaDiao.
...o...
'EnmaDiao, please heed my call.'
He could feel it clearly now. The same feeling he had had at the Earl's castle. As if by instinct, through something in his heart, he knew he was heard.
'We are at our wits' end. We have no powers left. You are our only hope. Please don't abandon us. Please don't abandon your loyal employees.'
He felt the cold vines that bound him move. They were slimy and repulsive and of no real substance. They were extensions of the darkness that came from hell and would swallow a soul and everything that was good about it. He knew if they pulled him down he would instantly die in their throng. Yet he persisted to carry on and forget everything for an instance. Forget fear, forget exigency, and forget the guilt that threatened to suffocate his heart.
'Enma-sama, please help us. Please help Tsuzuki-san. Are you going to let him go without a fight?'
...o...
Was Tatsumi praying? Watari wasn't sure as all he could discern was his lips moving and the occasional utterance of what he thought was EnmaDiao's name. He was relieved when the extension caressing his jaw was removed and turned to see what the God of Hell was doing. The helmet was turned to the side, seemingly looking at something farther to the right. Watari turned that way too; instinct telling him to check what was there even though all he saw was pitch black darkness.
Everything was silent, everything save for Tatsumi's hushed whispers on ragged breaths, and there it was again, carried on a shallow exhale…
"EnmaDiao"
As if the word had conjured something Watari saw a spark appear in the darkness. It grew wider instantly, brightening the area around it as a form appeared. Another prominent deity stepping forward from within the beams of sharp silvery light. This one in robes. Yards and yards of fine silk draped over a body twice the size of a tall man, he was dressed like an emperor, long wide sleeves and traditional black hat. The patterns on his white robe were intricate, beautiful in a majestic way, as if a wall scroll was wrapped around him. The embroidered illustrations depicted a place Watari knew: Meifu.
And all of a sudden recognition dawned, and his heart trembled.
"Welcome, Enma-dono." Mahorath announced.
"Greetings to you, Lord Mahorath."
Silence again in which both gods and their audience observed the scene in front of them. Mahorath was a statue still, only his head turned to show he was aware of the other deity. Enma was motionless as well and they could sense someone with him although that person was hidden behind the large body and its long robes.
It was the first time some of the shinigami were meeting their superior face to face, although that may not be the correct way to put it since, like Mahorath, there was little of Enma's face that could actually be seen. Most of the upper part of his face was covered by a mask, much like the ones actors wore in a Kabuki play. Only his mouth was visible, which didn't move even as he spoke.
"We are almost done here. Was there anything you wanted to impart?" Mahorath asked.
"Please release my employee first and then we talk." Enma said.
Mahorath hesitated for a moment. He let his tendrils drift in the next, dropping Tatsumi to the ground like dead weight. Watari rushed to his side right away, fearful that the hellish god had some other evil deeds in mind. But Mahorath seemed to have entirely lost interest in them, his full attention on his equal now.
"Tell me Enma-dono, why are you here?"
Enma walked a few steps closer, dragging his heavy robe behind him. He stood and raised his head. The red light coming from behind Mahorath bounced off his mask contrasting with Enma's own silver white light. He tipped his head up, chin raised and hidden eyes on the other god. All eyes were drawn to his lips in anticipation of his answer, yet once again the lips stayed close even through the reply.
"I'm here for Tsuzuki."
"What about him?"
"I am his superior. I have a right to know where he is."
"Tsuzuki Asato is no longer a JuOhCho employee. He was claimed by Makai due to the outcome of the trial."
"And who was the judge of that?"
"There was no need for judgment. Tsuzuki Asato invoked the demonic forces of the Apocalypse. That by default makes him a high ranking member of Hell."
"Only if his heart is soiled. Those were the terms of the trial." Enma shifted in his robes and made them rustle.
"How can the heart of someone who would bring such destruction upon the world be anything but corrupted? Do you claim his heart is pure only on the basis of it being an indrawn call as opposed to an outburst?" Mahorath countered.
Enma tilted his head, "That and the fact that deep within his heart he suffered throughout the whole ordeal. Tsuzuki was pushed into calling the Apocalypse, tormented past all his barriers he lost control because of immense grief. And yet he didn't wish maximum harm to others who were responsible for his suffering and he called the destruction towards himself. He wished to end his own life to spare his friends more pain and hardship and that, in any of the books of celestial code, is a noble and courageous act."
Mahorath paused, silently staring with his flames still brightly shining in the background, expanding and retreating like snakes in a pit that perfectly framed his significant body. He seemed to be evaluating Enma's argument, which come to think of it, did need careful consideration as it carried strong and valid truths.
Watari took the opportunity to check up on Tatsumi and see how he was faring. To his relief he saw the secretary's eyes open and it looked like he was listening to the conversation as well. Sensing how close they were to the center of that celestial argument and deeming it unsafe, Watari hooked an arm around Tatsumi's waist and used his shoulder to help the other man stand up. Tatsumi struggled to his feet and together they limped toward where the others were. Hisoka rushed to help them once they got close and sat next to Tatsumi as Watari helped him sit on the ground, himself settling on the other side to join the two of them.
"Are you ok?" Hisoka asked his superior quietly, his small hand touching the other's arm as if to make sure he was really there. Tatsumi's only answer was the way he grabbed the small hand, squeezing it in silent reassurance. He communicated something to Hisoka that, even with his eyes fixated on the stage ahead, made the boy calm down.
Watari himself turned his attention back to the two mighty beings, just as Mahorath started to speak.
"He has a dark soul. It conceals very dark powers. Such a soul can only act under my jurisdiction. It belongs in Makai and you have no argument to contest it."
"So you deem his soul tainted? Do you want me to prove you wrong?" Enma said.
"I can't see how you could."
"Show him to me and we'll test it."
"The test is over. The outcome is what gives me the right to claim him."
"The test is not over yet, and I am not convinced the outcome was in your favor."
"What are you suggesting?" Mahorath's voice was tinged with irritation. Behind him, his heatless, soundless flames shifted.
"I suggest we do one last trial to determine who's in the right. I even offer one of your own as the means of evaluation," said Enma.
"One of my own?"
Enma wordlessly pulled the person he was hiding behind the bulk of his body forward. The shinigamis let out a collective gasp. It was Ayaka.
She was wearing a long, flowing dress made of a strange fabric. Its color constantly shifted from white to black then shimmered back to white. It was as if one angle of light gave it a different color than the other. Most of her hair poured down behind her but the familiar two crescents usually held at the back of her head were off and the locks moved in the air as if caught by a great breeze, the same that flailed Mahorath's flame. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back, and she had both her hands clasped in front of her.
She was an angel, demon, angel, demon, angel.
Then she opened her eyes revealing a set of mismatched irises, one plum, the other fire red.
Enma laid a hand on her shoulder guiding her forward. Standing next to her he looked at Mahorath and said, "I'm sure you remember her. She was sent by you along with the prosecutor for the trial."
Mahorath was silent for a moment. Then he confirmed. "Nourian? What is the meaning of this?"
"No, she's two entities in one body. Nourian is only half of that identity; Yano Ayaka is the other half. And she's the one who suggested it."
"Suggested what?"
"That we use her for the test. See Ayaka has been watching Tsuzuki throughout the trial. She is convinced that he is pure of soul and she is willing to risk her own existence to prove it.
Let Ayaka test Tsuzuki's soul. If he is pure he would return. If he is evil however, he could be yours and I swear an oat on my honor never to contest you for him again."
"And how is Ayaka going to perform this test?" Mahorath asked.
"It is actually quite simple, "Enma replied, "She has to feel him deep inside. When a connection is made and his soul starts pouring into hers her two personalities will interact with it. If he is pure his soul would chase Nourian's spirit out of the body, if he is tainted then Ayaka will be the one who would be chased away." Enma said.
"And Ayaka agreed to this?"
"She was the one who proposed it."
Mahorath's helmet tilted down looking at the silent woman whose body was dwarfed next to the body of the god she stood beside. Her eyes were on him with a deep and quiet resolution shining through them.
"And Nourian? What does she have to say about this?" asked Mahorath.
"She is currently contained within the body by Ayaka's spirit. Ayaka is holding her back and it's not easy on her. I suggest if we are to do this we start soon."
Mahorath didn't answer.
"You are hesitant, Mahorath-san. Could it be that you doubt your own conviction?"
"Is Ayaka so confident in Tsuzuki's integrity that she is willing to risk her life for it?"
"That she is."
"I want to hear it from her."
"I believe in him" Ayaka said. Yet her voice was blended with strange echoes. As if distant cries were accompanying each word she spoke.
"Very well then. Here is the prize." With a sweep of his hand Mahorath formed another curtain of darkness that flew by to reveal Tsuzuki's tall form to the eyes of the quiet audience. Mahorath moved to stand behind him, holding his arms at the level of Tsuzuki's head, leaving the shinigami deep in his meditative pose with his eyes closed and his head bowed as if in a great trance. Perhaps the god was keeping his unconscious body upright by the spiritual powers he was channeling through his arms.
That theory seemed truer when Mahorath dropped his arms a minute later and Tsuzuki opened his eyes. For a moment he was completely still before an honestly surprised look crossed his face upon seeing Ayaka.
Both deities stepped back, their imposing bulks blanketed by the shadows around and only Tsuzuki and the strange, fluctuating version of Ayaka stayed in the circle of light that had appeared out of somewhere. They stood a few feet apart, seemingly sizing each other up, until Ayaka walked up to Tsuzuki.
Tsuzuki still looked bemused. He let the ex-angel timidly touch his face and still didn't react as her hand moved down to his throat. It was as if Ayaka wanted to make sure Tsuzuki was real. When she got her reassurance she stepped back and looked at him with large, soulful eyes.
"Is this…another dream?" Tsuzuki asked tentatively.
"Yes. In a way." She replied.
"Am I in hell now?"
"Not quite. But we are very close."
"What happened?"
Ayaka shook her head. "Nothing. You need to do this to decide our destinies," she said.
"Our destinies? How can I do that when, so far, nothing had been by my decision?"
"You are wrong, Tsuzuki. Everything, all that's happened so far was a direct or indirect result of your decisions. You're the one who has shaped the conclusion of the trial. There is only one more step left."
Tsuzuki's eyes darkened 'I am responsible for it all,' "And what is that?"
Ayaka took another step forward so that they were standing very close. "Kiss me, "she said.
"What?"
Tsuzuki's query was echoed by a number of other hushed ones from the rest of the audience. Ayaka paid them no heed, her eyes staying lovingly on the purple eyed man in front of her and a smile dancing on her lips.
"Kiss me," she repeated. "It's the only way to find out. If you are good I'll be Ayaka, if you are evil I'll be Nourian. My destiny will be determined by you."
Tsuzuki blinked in worry. "But, what if I am evil? What then? You will lose your body to Nourian."
She shook her head. "No. I won't. Because, Tsuzuki, I know that you are not." And there was determination in her voice that made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.
Tsuzuki was still hesitant. Ayaka reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close.
"Kiss me, Tsuzuki Asato. Kiss me and set us both free."
Tsuzuki paused only for another heartbeat, staring intently in the other's mismatched eyes. Then their lips met and melted into the kiss, Tsuzuki's arms coming up to wrap themselves around her slim body.
They stayed locked like that for a long time.
The room stayed quiet. Even the gods were soundless. Hisoka stared rapt at the picture. Two beautiful creatures frozen into a silent kiss like ancient statues in old shrines. The image cracked as he saw tears appear at the corners of Tsuzuki's closed eyes to run down his flushed cheeks like crystalline streams. Slowly a corona of light appeared between them, growing steadily and embracing them both in its bright halo of light. As their lips parted Ayaka's body fell backwards, unconscious and held at the waist by Tsuzuki's strong arms that encased her tenderly, his eyes on her face and a warm smile on his lips despite the tears.
As slowly as it had appeared the light went out. Enma moved forward, taking the angel from Tsuzuki into his own arms. Tsuzuki stepped back, his eyes lifting to his superior; there was honesty in them, coupled with acceptance and a gentle kind of appeal.
Enma extended a hand to touch Tsuzuki's face. Tsuzuki leaned into the caress though his eyes never left Enma's.
"Blessings, my child. You are back with us."
The silence that ensued was comforting for once.
"Is she all right?" Tsuzuki asked looking at Ayaka with concern.
"See for yourself." Enma replied as his huge form came down to sit on the ground with Ayaka's still body in his lap. Folds and folds of fine silk surrounded her and her white face looked almost translucent against the cream white of Enma's robes. Tsuzuki came closer and knelt by her side.
His hand combed through her hair and she opened her eyes, showing warm mahogany colored irises.
"Hi, Tsuzuki." She said with a smile.
"Hi. How are you feeling?"
"Fine, I guess. Free." Her smile reached her eyes.
"Why did you do it, Ayaka? Why such a risk? You could have lost your whole life to Nourian."
She shook her head from side to side, "I would have gladly accepted that if it had to be that way. Better not to live at all than to live my life a prisoner to her will. And it was the only way to show them the real you."
"The real me…"
"Yes, Tsuzuki. You and everything that is you. You may not know it. You may think you are worthless and evil. But to me, you - your kindness, your gentle heart and your feelings of self-sacrifice - it's worth loosing my life over."
Tsuzuki was stunned by the declaration.
He leaned forward and hugged her.
"Thank you. Thank you so much, Ayaka." He breathed in her hair.
There came more calm. As if no one dared to break the moment between them.
Until Enma finally raised his head and looked at his nemesis who had remained in the shadows across from them the entire time.
"I guess it is settled," he said.
Mahorath didn't answer. He didn't move. To Hisoka and the others he looked like a stone statue, spellbinded the moment he had backed into the darkness. And for some reason his silence seemed more intimidating than his loud speech or his play of flames and phantoms.
Tsuzuki turned and looked at the Makai monarch with worried eyes. He slowly disengaged himself from Ayaka and stood up to face the god.
"Tsuzuki…" Mahorath said. There was a ring to his tone that could have been a deep sigh, or a part of their imagination. The tendrils of darkness extended from him again, coming forwards and surrounding Tsuzuki in a black embrace. The shinigami shuddered at the cold touch. He accepted it nonetheless and understood the necessity of it for the deity who wanted to test the truth for himself. He felt it in the way the darkness probed his mind.
Mahorath withdrew with a loving caress of his cheek. The tendril softly sliding over his skin before the god pulled it completely into himself. There was a sense of calm defeat in the gesture.
His next words however were firm and forbidding. "You may think you have settled our claim on him. But we are only back where we started before we decided on the trial. He is still bound to his duties as a shinigami until his term is over."
He was talking to Enma.
"I agree." Enma said, bowing his head fractionally. Tsuzuki swiftly turned to him.
"Does that mean," he asked, "I'd be going back to Meifu?"
"Yes, my child."
Tsuzuki was about to say something when his attention was drawn back once again to the dark lord who started speaking again.
"They will go back to exactly where they were before we brought them into this dimension. No change in the deal and no interference in the events that have already transpired. Agreed?"
Enma pressed his lips for a fleeting moment before assenting to that as well.
"Yes, of course."
Hisoka didn't get the meaning of that statement at first, or the reason why Enma seemed so ill at ease. Then it dawned on him, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.
The Apocalypse.
They were going back to exactly where they had left off, facing the upcoming Apocalypse.
Tsuzuki turned his eyes to Ayaka, still resting on the ground with her head on Enma's lap and her eyes closed. Her expression was softened by a peaceful sleep.
"What will happen to her?" he asked.
"I will take care of her. She too is under my supervision from this moment on," said Enma. He stood up, lifting Ayaka's body in his arms. Tsuzuki just stared with his expressive violet eyes, not having much to say.
Enma turned to the group of Tsuzuki's friends. "I leave him to you," he said, "I trust that you would protect him with your life."
It took the shinigami a moment to realize he wasn't talking to them but to the guardian beast gods that where standing with them. Suzaku straightened up, lifting her proud head and looking at Enma. She nodded in confirmation. Behind her, Byakko did the same.
The god's head moved a bit, shifting like he was addressing someone else. "You shinigami, take shelter within their powers. You're up against something more powerful than you could imagine. You will survive as long as you trust in their strength, because their powers feed directly from their master's which is the only force that can stand against the unleashed evil."
Hisoka, Tatsumi and Watari bobbed their heads at the same time, too stunned to be able to speak. No matter what these gods were saying, the way they said it and the weight of their presence was enough to make everyone mute.
"Master…"
Almost everyone.
"Master, what about me?"
Isorou walked slowly between the shinigami and stepped out of the crowd. He took a few steps towards Mahorath and stopped just before he reached that core of shadowy darkness. He stood there unsure, not knowing if his inquiry was heard.
Since the hell god didn't reply he assumed that it wasn't. With a bit more urgency he continued.
"I did my duty, Master. I followed every direction you gave me. Do I have to go back as well?"
It was odd hearing him speak in that voice. After so much confident talk, so many arrogant, threatening speeches, hearing him plead was like hearing Tatsumi do karaoke.
From what they all had seen of Mahorath, everyone expected the dark god to ignore him. It was a surprise to all when the next moment the helmeted head turned and the god's deep voice resonated in the hall.
"Isorou Masaki, you served me well."
Isorou's features brightened upon hearing that. He was about to say something when Mahorath cut him off.
"You are right, you followed every order I gave you, going even beyond the call of duty. Doing things I never asked of you and because of that, you pushed away one of my most potential descendants. Made him so he would never want to set foot in my kingdom, or have anything to do with our kind."
Isorou's smile twitched on his lips before it disappeared. With anxious eyes he stared at his master not sure where this was leading.
"You took your duties to heart, yet you tainted your devotion with your feelings of betrayal and jealousy. You wanted to hurt the shinigami in order to make up for what had been done to you in the past, when you failed at your own trial. There you stepped out of line and mixed your job with your personal feelings."
"But, I did it only to assure your success. I didn't want to give up so I put every effort I could spare into this assignment…to ensure you got what you wished for." Isorou said with a voice carrying an edge of panic.
"I never wished for you to harm him. You made that decision all on your own and went much too far in it. Your fate is the direct result of your actions."
Isorou opened his mouth then shut it with a gasp. For a moment he was completely still, looking at Mahorath as if he was unsure of what he had heard. He said, "But I thought everyone was supposed to get hurt in their trial. My first hand experience certainly confirmed it."
Mahorath's voice was like a whiplash, "You failed your trial. And you failed as a prosecutor. There isn't much slack left to give you. You have to face your fate, the consequence of your actions, just like everyone else."
"But they…but Master…"
He saw Mahorath turn as if to indicate the conversation was over.
"Master please, listen to me."
He called after him, raising a hand like he was trying to pull him back. When it failed and the glowing flames disappeared he let his hand fall to his side, eyes wide with despair.
Soon after, the ground started quaking underneath them, much like it had when they where brought to this place in the beginning. Hisoka grabbed onto Watari's coat and the two of them looked as the area around them started spinning and becoming more and more blurred. Hisoka quickly turned to Tsuzuki, saw him still standing next to EnmaDiao before he suddenly collapsed onto the ground. He yelled and got to his feet, running toward him. Half way there he was outrun by Tatsumi who had the same destination in mind. Both of them knelt by Tsuzuki's side as the world continued to swirl at a dizzying speed. Enma was still there. Hisoka saw him creep closer and stand over Tatsumi's shoulder. He heard the god's voice, "Tatsumi-san, remember to…" but the rest of it was swallowed up by the rush of wind that started blowing all around them.
Once everything cleared they blinked and saw themselves back at Meifu, in exactly the same position they had left.
Tsuzuki was on the ground unconscious. This time however he looked peaceful, more like he was asleep rather than passed out from exhaustion. Perhaps the knowledge that he had passed the trial and succeeded in escaping Makai was comforting him from somewhere deep within his subconscious.
As soon as they got their bearings Suzaku moved forward, once again cradling Tsuzuki's head in her lap. She looked up at Byakko who was equally kneeling next to their master. The tiger's hand went through Tsuzuki's soft hair as the two shikigami spoke to each other for a while, discussing what they had to do. Byakko stood up then, taking a few steps away from the rest of the group before changing into his beast form with the upheaval of a small hurricane that symbolized his power. The white tiger swished his tail back and forth, looking over his shoulder to assess his target before taking a deep inhale and creating a large bauble of air that grew around them steadily and encased them within the protective cover of its currents. Its purpose was clearly to use the power of wind against a much larger force that was soon going to reach them.
Suzaku was still in her human form and hanging onto Tsuzuki. She could see the other shikigami as he walked the periphery of his barrier. Hisoka was sitting next to her, his eyes worried and on her face.
"Suzaku-san," he was still not close enough with the fire shikigami, unlike the others, to be comfortable calling her 'Neesan', so he went ahead with her name, "Sukazu-san, do you think it will work?"
Suzaku replied without looking at him, "Let's all hope it does. It's the only chance we have." She looked down and gently caressed Tsuzuki's face. "I trust him, you know. I trust that Tsuzuki-san – even lost as he was – has done everything in his power to prevent causing too much damage. He won't fail us." She looked up, showing Hisoka a smile that warmed the young shinigami's anxious heart. "And we won't fail him either." She said as she handed Tsuzuki over to Hisoka before standing up and moving away.
She stood a few feet away and looked up at the sky. Slowly, she spread her arms out, and her hair started flying around wild like the flames she commanded. Hisoka had to cover his eyes when the fires started. Large coils of flames rising from around her body, pillars of it growing from the ground and reaching up toward the sky. The light became so bright that it hid her entirely from his sight and then, from within that light, the sound of flapping wings came to his ears. Slowly the wings opened, appearing like they were taking part of the fire with them. They were wings made out of fire which belonged to the largest bird Hisoka had seen in his life, and as they moved aside, the shikigami's head appeared. Red eyes looking down at the area around and letting out a loud shriek before the beast finally settled down.
The fires calmed as well until there was only the phoenix left.
Hisoka was in awe. It was true that he had seen the fire bird before but never this close and never in all of its flaming glory. It was one thing to see Tsuzuki's prime shikigami in battle, entirely different thing to watch it standing mere paces away from you and towering 20 feet above your head. He would have jumped back if Tsuzuki wasn't nestled in his arms.
Suzaku moved closer. With the size she occupied you would have expected her walk to be clumsy, but instead she showed grace even as a beast, almost gliding to the spot closest to her master without letting any of the flames touch him.
She stood there for a moment, staring down at the two shinigamis in silence. Then she slowly opened her wings, the fire making a whooshing sound as they passed by Hisoka's ear. The wings came around like a large tent and enclosed the patch of ground where Tsuzuki was lying. Hisoka watched as the sky above his head was colored orange and red by the burning flames, surprisingly with no significant heat, and translucent enough for him to still be able to see his surroundings.
He heard Watari's voice and saw him through the flames approaching. As the scientist got close he poked his head through the curtain of fire, "Want some company?" he asked with a little wink.
Hisoka just stared at him and the scientist stepped inside. He came forward and sat on the ground next to Hisoka, putting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "You ok?"
Hisoka nodded. He was looking down at Tsuzuki's sleeping face, his small hand reaching to brush away some stray locks.
Watari's eyes turned to the sleeping shinigami as well. "Looking at him sleeping like this, you wouldn't believe he is the same man that has two of the most powerful gods of the underworld fighting over him. I mean, this clumsy, baka, always late on duty shinigami who would even leave his shoes unlaced if it meant getting to the dessert table sooner…," he too put a hand on Tsuzuki's face, brushing the side of his cheek gently, "…it's like you almost forget what he truly is. But then again, I like him that way."
Hisoka smiled slightly. He recognized the spoken words for what they were. Watari's casual conversation meant to ease his heart. He looked up at the scientist warmly.
Watari smiled, his grip on the boy's shoulder tightening in reassurance. He then looked through Suzaku's wings at the grounds beyond were Tatsumi was still standing. "Oi, Tatsumi-san. You better get in here. We have to stay close so it would be easier for neesan to protect us."
Tatsumi's face was turned away, his gaze locked on the lone figure who stood the farthest from the group within the wind shikigami's barrier. Watari followed that gaze until he discovered what the secretary was looking at.
"Tatsumi"
The secretary abruptly turned and walked toward them.
"What were you looking at?" Watari asked as soon as Tatsumi entered the shelter of the burning wings.
"Nothing," the secretary replied, "It wasn't important." He knelt beside them on the ground.
Watari looked at the spot Tatsumi was staring at a minute ago and said, "Well, that which isn't important is going to die if he doesn't take shelter anytime soon."
"And why should we care?" Tatsumi inquired flatly.
"Because…"Watari started but couldn't find any good arguments that immediately came to mind
Tatsumi stared him in the face. "You think after all he's done to us, there is even one reason to invite him to share our shelter?"
Watari looked at the sleeping face of Tsuzuki, thinking hard. He raised his head then and met the secretary's gaze evenly. "Yes, I think there is."
"And what would that be?"
The scientist sighed and stood up. "I'll tell you later." He walked out of the circle of fire and started closing the distance between him and the prosecutor.
Isorou was standing with his back to them, staring off into distance. Watari couldn't see his eyes but he could feel the tenseness in his shoulders. Slowly he approached, just now realizing how uncomfortable his chosen task was. He stepped forward until he could see the other man's profile. Isorou was as rigid as a general on a battle field.
"Um, you know, Isorou-san, I was just wondering…" Watari started but had to stop there. He honestly couldn't find the right words to say. There was simply too much history between him and this man to make it anything like a casual conversation.
Isorou didn't give any hints of sensing his presence; he just continued staring at horizon. Watari looked at him and thought he saw a shade of the sadness he had felt from the man at the teahouse so many lifetimes ago. No, not just a shade, the sadness was there. Only this time, Watari knew where it had come from, what it meant. He thought he knew entirely too much.
"Isorou-san," he tried again, "the Apocalypse is coming. I think you should take cover with us."
"And may I ask why you think so?" The grey haired man said as he turned to look at him.
"Because…if you don't you will die."
"And that bothers you? I thought my death was your wish after what I did to your friends."
Watari looked away. It took him a while to answer. "I hated you for what you did to my friends, that much is true. I hated you so much. And I'm sorry, I still do to some extent." He looked back again, "But I don't want you to die. I believe – and feel free to call me crazy for it – that there's still a spark of redemption in you. I know you work for Makai but even so, there should be some way for you to become decent and make things right."
Isorou gave a short laugh. "Correction, Watari-san. I worked for Makai. Now I'm as unwanted anywhere as the next stray soul. Not even the demons of hell would have me."
Watari bit his lip, remembering what the demon lord had said.
"Stop pretending Watari-san. Take your pity and your good intentions to someone who deserves it. There is nothing left in this shell of a man for you to save."
Watari stared at him desperately. "You know what, Isorou-san? Not to be preachy or anything, but the way you treat people has a lot to do with how much care they show you." Probably the wrong thing to say at that moment but Watari wanted to get it out since he thought it was his last chance and he had bottled it up for far too long.
Isorou didn't answer; his eyes turning to look at far away once again. It became quite frustrating to Watari who was starting to feel anxious and wanted to go back to the safety of Suzaku's wings.
"Listen, let's forget all the crap that happened in the past and try saving our lives for now. This Apocalypse I've been told is no small matter. It will wipe out everything and you included if you don't use the shikigami as cover. So please, Isorou-san, let's go hide under those wings and leave the discussion for later. I'm sure we can come up with a reasonable solution for your dilemma in the future."
He suddenly got distracted by a muffled noise coming from the distance. He looked over and his eyes went wide. There was a flicker on the horizon. Like a huge wave you would see coming towards the shore from the far away reaches of the ocean.
Only this wave was coming towards them from all directions.
"So this is it. The infamous Apocalypse of the Descendant of Darkness. I'm glad I was able to witness it in my lifetime." Isorou said.
Watari was beginning to panic. Behind him, he could hear Tatsumi and Hisoka calling for him to return but somehow he couldn't take his eyes off the vigilant profile of the man used to be known as the prosecutor, the man who was calmly watching the rolling approach of his impending doom.
He became desperate.
"Isorou-san, I know how you feel. I know what being betrayed feels like, it's not unfamiliar to me. But we have to realize that there is always a chance. And we can change if we let others around us help us.
You see I for example wasn't the genki prankful scientist I am now when I first came to Meifu. I had a dark past and it made me vengeful and cold. I looked at everyone like they were my enemy. But people cared for me. They started befriending me and sooner than I thought I found myself changing into a person that was for years hidden inside me, beneath layers of hate and hurt. I started feeling happy again. I learned how to love, how to make friends and enjoy life to the fullest. But it was all because I gave myself the chance to live as a shinigami and take that first step."
The rumbling was getting louder and closer and Watari's panic was beginning to show on his face. Isorou looked at him impassively.
"Please, Isorou-san. Give yourself that chance. I know you have that other personality hidden in you somewhere. Maybe if you live another day we will find a way to make it come forth."
"Watari-san, you have to go. It's time you took care of your own safety." Isorou said.
"NO!" Watari yelled and grabbed the other man by his arms, "I won't go like this. I hate failing like this. I want you to come with me." Then, as if remembering something his eyes shined. He still had one last trump card to use.
"You cared for me didn't you?' he said, "You wanted me to be your friend. If you don't want to see me die then come with me. Because I am not going to leave you."
Isorou continued staring at him in the same detached manner. It almost surprised him when the man spoke.
"I'll come with you only if you answer me one question, truthfully that is," said Isorou.
Watari nodded.
"Tell me why you are so concerned for my life. Why are you insisting so much that I don't die and come to safety with you?"
Watari opened his mouth quickly to answer when he found Isorou's fingers on his lips, "Remember, truthful answer."
Watari lowered his eyes. He glanced back at the circle of fire Suzaku's wings had created, the people within who were frantically calling for him to come, to save himself and forget the man who was the cause of all of this to begin with. He sighed. "I want you to live, because…because I don't want Tsuzuki to be sad. I know that even though you hurt him so much, if you die he will feel guilty. I don't want him to be like that, so I want you to be safe." He looked Isorou in the eyes, "That is his true personality, you know. His weakness for which everyone loves him. You asked me once why everyone loved Tsuzuki, remember? Well, here's your answer. Maybe if you had given your weaknesses a chance you wouldn't have found yourself alone. People would've loved you as well."
Isorou smiled and looked away.
Watari grabbed him tighter. He had to yell now for his voice to be heard over the roar of the disaster. "But it's not too late. Choose to live and you will find happiness."
"Will you be my friend if I did?" Isorou asked, his voice drowning in the noises getting close.
Watari agreed frantically. "Yes I will. I swear I will." He grabbed Isorou's arm and ran as fast as he could, dragging him behind him. The wave was already too close, looming like a great sandstorm over them.
Till this day Watari doesn't know what exactly happened next. He remembers the loud crashing noises, how the earth began rumbling underneath his feet, and he himself, running like a madman out of hell, his vision tunneled to the fragile shelter of Suzaku's wings.
He can't remember when or how he lost his grip on Isorou.
Maybe he was assuming the man was still following him when he threw himself into the sanctuary of Suzaku's fire. Only when he turned around, out of breath and at the end of his nerves, he saw that the man was still outside. Standing there with a calm expression on his face and a smile, the same he had shown him during their conversation. Right before the whole world began to fall apart.
He can't quite remember if he yelled for him. Or was he just yelling with no sense? Out of fear perhaps? The scene all around him was certainly something to be frightened about. The Apocalypse up close was perhaps the scariest thing a man could see in his life and then die. A mass of pure evil, hundreds of feet high, that coiled and swirled around in dark shades of grey and black and red. More disturbingly there were faces appearing in it, images of tortured souls trying to break free. Even the noises weren't just vague rumblings anymore, but demon voices, screams and shrieks and a lot of other unpleasant things in a wall of horror surrounding them from everywhere.
That was the last time he saw Isorou Masaki's face before he was swallowed by that wall, his face becoming a permanent painting amongst the thousands of horrible images etched forever into the surface of the demonic spectacle. He was still wearing that smile.
And that was when the Apocalypse hit them.
TBC
Author's note: Some of you may think Watari is a bit OOC here in the way he insists on saving Isorou's life. After all they'd never been close and in fact, there were times Watari hated Isorou to bits and pieces. However, the justification I'm using here are the few words Watari speaks to Isorou about his past and his early days in Meifu. I'm trying to imply that something happened in Watari's mortal life that somehow paralleled Isorou's experiences and caused Watari to sympathize with him. Hence he got hung up on rescuing Isorou. What it was I won't explain here, but it could be great substance for another story.
Yes, I know I said this was to be the last chapter. Guess what, I lied :) There is one more chapter to come after this. Hopefully it won't take me as long to finish it as it took me this one.
I would appreciate any reviews that you'd send my way even though this time I'm sure I don't deserve them since I left you hanging for almost three months. So if you feel like punishing me leave without a word, you have every right to do that. But if you feel like giving me a word or two of encouragement despite my sluggish updates by all means go ahead.
(1) The Earl—Chapter Eleven
(2) Watari – Manga Volume 8 (Part 26) – The Kyoto files. As they are watching Tsuzuki commit suicide in Touda's fire.
(3) Hisoka – same volume, same part, before he jumps into fire after Tsuzuki.