I have some bad news for some of you…I'm dropping the story after this chapter.
pauses PFFT! HA! How many people did I scare? Huh? Anyone? looks around but sees no amused faces, only ones who think the authoress is a freaking reject Oh. Heh heh…sorry.
A long A/N for this chapter, so be prepared! Yes our teeth and ambitions are bared! Ah, Lion King flashbacks…
Um, just for those of you who follow the story, the rating is going to soon change to M, if ya catch meh drift? wink wink dies Okay, yeah. So the next chapter I post, I'm going to change the rating to M…because…I…can…dies again So be sure to change the little scrolly rating settings thing to All when you look for my story. I don't know about anyone else, but my computer automatically puts the rating settings to K-T…yeah.
Also, the character that I invented, Shimeru, has a freakin' awesome name that I thought I'd point out because I'm full of myself. Her name translates (from Japanese) to "wring" or "strangle". Heh. I was kind of looking through my nifty Japanese dictionary and happened to like the word Shimeru, and so when I looked at the meaning I freaked out. "STRANGLE, WHAT? LIKE HOW SHE DIES!" Needless to say, my sister (who was in the room at the time) now thinks I'm insane. XD
Also also, I would like to say that I really enjoy getting reviews from all of you voondabar people! I don't really say much about it, normally, and so I felt kind of bad. But I love reading the feedback, especially when people tell me what they think is going to happen in the story. It's sort of cool to see how the story could go, if I wasn't going to write it like that originally. And hey! 69 reviews! …69…dies again again
So, there's my little shchpeil. Thank you all so very much!
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Albel began feeling unnerved as more and more spirits rushed past him in an attempt to get away from whatever the hell was making the noise up ahead. The sound didn't seem to follow any particular pattern, but the eerie silence always followed.
Cursing under his breath, Albel roughly shoved aside a spirit as he made his way against the rush of souls. The swordsman didn't have to fight his way much longer, however, because up ahead Albel saw that the walls to the tunnel disappeared, leaving a vast, empty space.
Walking closer to see what had happened, Albel saw a figure sitting on the floor of what had previously been the tunnel. Everything else around the figure was gone.
Creasing his eyebrows Albel silently stepped closer, squinting his eyes to make out what the figure was.
The swordsman almost fell over when he saw the bright shade of blue coloring the spirits hair.
"Fayt?" he whispered, almost not believing that he had found the one boy he had been looking for out of millions and millions of spirits. Albel began to walk towards the teenager, but stopped abruptly when a smooth voice sounded behind him.
"I wouldn't go near him, if I were you," it purred into Albel's ear, making the swordsman feel sick to his stomach. The voice didn't seem as if it had ever been human.
Albel turned, quickly unsheathing the sword that was still strapped to his waist, but soon realized the uselessness of weapons in the Underworld. Albel sheathed it again, glancing up through his bangs to see a pale man standing in front of him with white hair that fell to his shoulders.
"Oh? And why is that?" Albel hissed, narrowing his eyes and promptly deciding that he didn't like this man, whoever the hell he was.
"That boy out there," the man said, walking to stand next to Albel and then pointing to Fayt with a long, thin finger, "has gone mad, and is very dangerous. I've never seen anything like it. He's magnificent…" the man mused, stroking his chin and looking approvingly on the teenager.
"What do you mean, 'gone mad'? And just how is he dangerous?" Albel asked doubtfully, glaring at the man who was looking at Fayt as one would look at a new sword, searching for faults within the blade or the craftsmanship.
"I mean what I say. He's gone mad, his mind has snapped. Some spirits do that, you know. They get down here with their expectations too high as to what the Underworld will be, and they can't handle it. That's what's happened with this boy." The man inclined his head towards Fayt, then glanced over to Albel, "Why the concern?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"How is he dangerous?" Albel repeated, glaring heatedly at the man next to him.
"Oh, I don't know. He sits there, hasn't moved at all, by the way, and when a spirit tries to walk up to him they just…disappear. It's like nothing I've ever seen before," the man said again, smiling cheerfully. His smile faltered when he saw Albel's suspicious stare, then clapped his hands twice, "Here, I'll show you," he said, his voice thick with anticipation. Apparently, the man could never see enough of what Albel was about to witness.
A white, misty substance appeared in front of the man standing next to Albel. The man looked over to Albel and said, "Weaker spirit," as an explanation for what the essence floating in front of him was. Albel furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the man whisper something to the spirit, then saw the spirit drift towards Fayt. Albel watched closely as the weaker spirit continued to drift towards Fayt, getting closer and closer to the small boy. The rumbling that Albel had heard so many times before began again, this time louder as he was closer to the source of it. The swordsman watched in disbelief as Fayt turned his head toward the approaching spirit, blue light swirling around him. Albel's eyebrows creased as Fayt opened his eyes; the usual bright, green eyes that Albel had known so well were gone and replaced by a milky white, as if his eyes had rolled back into his head. The blue light grew brighter as the spirit approached, and when Albel saw the expression on Fayt's face he felt a shiver run down his spine. The swordsman had never seen such pure hatred before.
The spirit continued to drift closer to Fayt, and when it was only a few feet from the teenager, the blue light that had been surrounding Fayt encircled the spirit, lacing in and out of the confused soul. Albel blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, the spirit had vanished.
"There you have it," the man next to him said cheerfully as he turned to look at Albel, who had put a hand to his mouth and was fighting the urge to lean against the wall.
"Wha…what did you do to him?" Albel snarled, turning on the man and shoving him up against the wall.
"My, my!" the man exclaimed, a hint of amusement touching his voice, "Such anger! Protective, are we?" he finished, clapping his hands in front of him as he stared down into Albel's face.
"I swear if you've done anything to hurt him, I'll fucking tear you apart," Albel growled, his voice shaking slightly. The man clicked his tongue in mock disapproval.
"Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your king?" he asked smugly, smiling as he saw the words sink in. Albel sneered and backed away from the King of the Dead, turning his head so that he could see Fayt. What had they done to him? Albel glared back to the King of the Dead before turning once again to face Fayt.
"Fayt?" he called, searching the teenager's face for any flicker of emotion. The boy continued to stare forward, not even acknowledging that he had heard the swordsman.
"What did I tell you? His mind has snapped. Even if he could hear you, his mind wouldn't be able to register the words. You're speaking in a completely different language to him." The King of the Dead moved closer to Albel, leaning in closely so that he could whisper into his ear, "Regretting that you didn't tell Fayt you loved him sooner?" The King of the Dead leaned back, watching with amusement as Albel's shoulders tensed, the swordsman's posture becoming rigid. Albel was about to punch his "king" when a voice floated down the tunnel to meet their ears.
"Oh, leave him alone, my lord. Please." Albel's eyes widened as he recognized the voice.
Before, when Albel had heard this man's voice, it had been broken with madness and stained with bloodlust. Now, it seemed clear, and almost weary.
Albel turned sharply and saw a young man standing only a few feet behind him. His hair was black and his eyes green. Albel remembered digging his claws into this man's neck. Albel remembered this man slowly drawing a knife across Fayt's neck, creating the wound that would kill the teenager.
Albel snarled and lunged towards the man, hitting him in the chest and knocking him to the ground, the swordsman landing on top of the frightened spirit.
"W…wait! Please, wait Albel!" the man yelled, fright making his voice thick.
"Why should I?" Albel growled, digging the claws attached to his left arm into the spirit's side. Seishiki whimpered as the sharp metal blades dug deeper. Apparently spirits could still feel pain, for which Albel was glad. "It was you who killed Fayt, wasn't it?" Albel asked, his face inches from Seishiki's. "Wasn't it!" he yelled when the spirit didn't respond, ripping his claws out of the man's side only to stab them back into the wound, this time deeper.
"Yes, you know very well that it was I who killed Fayt! But please listen, A…" Seishiki clenched his teeth together, trying not to cry out in pain, "Albel, I was mad! I had no control over my actions!" the spirit pleaded, trying to get the crazed swordsman to understand. Albel snorted, smirking into the terrified spirit's face.
"Oh, you were mad! Everyone's mad these days, I think. You're mad, Fayt's mad, he's mad," Albel said, waving his hand in the king's direction, who glared at Albel, though the swordsman didn't notice, "and I must be mad. The moment I came down here was the moment I turned mad." Albel leaned in closer to the spirit, his breath sending a chill down Seishiki's spine, "Being mad isn't an excuse for killing Fayt." Albel ripped his claws back out of Seishiki's side, bringing them up to his throat. The swordsman grabbed the spirit's neck, the claws digging into his throat in a cruel resemblance to the day Seishiki died. Albel was about to point this out to the spirit when he felt himself being thrown back away from Seishiki, who was now standing up. Albel jumped back to his feet and unsheathed his sword when he felt a cold hand on his shoulder.
"Albel, Albel, Albel," the King of the Dead sighed, patting the swordsman on the shoulder, "I can't have you killing Seishiki here. He's very important to me, and is very useful. You see, Albel, he is the spirit who helped me become the King of the Dead. He's the spirit who told me not to fear you, oh no, not you," the King added, his lips curling into a condescending smile when he saw the scowl on Albel's face, "but your companion, who is now sitting mere yards from us."
Albel glanced over his shoulder, past the King of the Dead, to see that Fayt had resumed his indifferent demeanor, staring into nothingness once more.
"Fayt?" Albel breathed, wondering why Seishiki would be more frightened of a small teenager than he would be of Albel the Wicked.
"My god, he doesn't know!" the king exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air as if her were distressed. Albel glared at the strange man, trying his hardest not to ask what he didn't know. His pride wouldn't allow him to, plus he was sure the king would tell him…sooner or later.
The King of the Dead walked over to Seishiki and threw an arm around the spirit's shoulders, turning his head to talk to him as they made their way towards Albel.
"I thought you would have told him about Fayt in order to separate the two," the king said, smiling widely, "well, even though you didn't tell him, I'm surprised he didn't find out for himself. After all they were…companions." The King of the Dead said the last word suggestively, as if there was something more to Fayt and Albel's camaraderie.
The king stood closely at Albel's side, staring towards Fayt as he considered his options. "You really don't know, do you?" he asked, his voice surprisingly subdued. Albel's eyes widened as he shrugged, still not willing to admit that he had no idea what they were talking about. The king sighed and placed a placating hand on Albel's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "You do know that Fayt is the embodiment of destruction, yes?" he asked, then continued when he saw Albel nod, "Well, what you saw only moments ago was a small portion of what being the embodiment of destruction means. So much power…" the king breathed, his eyes glazing over with a distant look that made Albel feel cold. "He's a tool," he continued, his voice sounding excited, "he's a tool that I must figure out how to use. If only I could learn to control that power…" he trailed, his words rushed as if he hadn't enough time to say them. Seishiki began to panic as he saw the effect his king's words were having on the swordsman, and began to whisper to the king urgently, telling him to calm down.
"Please, my lord, let's leave," the spirit pleaded, "You've been here for most of the day. There are other matters you must see to." The King's eyes snapped over Seishiki, a look of mistrust creeping into them.
"Such as what, Seishiki?" he asked calmly, his voice deep, his words no longer jumbled, "Do not think," he continued, "that just because you are the second most powerful spirit down here that you can order me around." Seishiki shook his head, black locks falling into his eyes as he began to answer his king.
"No, my lord. It's just that you were saying yesterday how you had work to do, and I figured that since there is nothing better to do…" the spirit trailed, looking helplessly at the King of the Dead, who was now scowling at Seishiki.
"Yes, yes of course you're right," he sighed, "Hell, you're always right! I suppose I should get to work on subduing that small rebellion down by the fifth level.." the king mused, scratching his chin.
"Would you like me to take care of it for you, my lord?" Seishiki asked, turning the King around to lead him back down the tunnel.
"No, no that's alright, Seishiki. I should probably do it myself…" Albel heard the King say, listening until their voices eventually disappeared.
Albel fell to the ground after the two spirit's voices faded away, burying his face in his hands.
"What am I supposed to do?" Albel wondered, lifting his head back up to look at Fayt, "What can I do so that you'll hear me?"
Albel knelt on the floor of the tunnel, a defeated look on his face, as he stared into the blank eyes of the boy who had broken through the masks the swordsman had made for himself so that he wouldn't be hurt again. The boy who Albel had grown to love stared back at him with cold, emotionless, unfeeling eyes.
"…my fault…" Albel's eyes widened.
"Who…?" the swordsman thought, breaking eye contact with Fayt as he looked down the long, winding tunnel to see if anyone was there. When Albel realized that he hadn't actually heard the voice, he looked back to Fayt. Was the teenager who seemed nothing more than a shell speaking to him somehow? Albel pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on his knees, once again staring into Fayt's dead, green eyes.
"…my fault…they're all dead…why couldn't I save them?...my fault…" Sweat beaded on Albel's forehead as he realized what he was hearing. He was listening to Fayt's soul. It was laid bare, since there was no corporal body to contain it in. Albel realized that the only reason he hadn't been able to hear the king's soul or Seishiki's soul was because they had walls, so to speak, surrounding themselves that they had constructed. Since Fayt's mind had snapped, he had no idea that anybody could read the innermost thoughts of his mind.
The swordsman closed his eyes, knowing that he was hearing what the teenager had been telling himself for the last few years of his life.
"…my fault…I always screw up…I'm not normal…I'm the embodiment of destruction…everyone died because of me…Sophia's hurt because of me…my fault…"
Albel felt his stomach lurch when he thought how well he knew these thoughts. Albel felt like screaming. It killed him to finally realize all the hurt that the small boy had gone through the past few years. Albel felt something warm slide down his cheek and reached up to brush away the tear that had slipped from his blood red eye. Albel glanced to the tear that was sitting on his hand and raised his eyebrows. He hadn't cried since his father died…
Hugging his knees to his chest tightly, Albel continued to stare into Fayt's eyes, wishing that he could somehow ease the pain the boy was still going through, even after death.
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Nel slumped forward, her breathing coming in irregular pants. She hadn't yet managed to get Fayt's heart pumping again, and had already used all of her potions except for one.
"Damn…" she thought, reaching out to grab the last of the bottles. Nel glanced up through her bangs that were soaked with sweat to see the young girl still healing Albel.
The red haired woman had noticed the small girl when she had stopped healing Fayt to drink the first of her potions, and had almost panicked, thinking that the girl was trying to hurt Albel. The young girl, as if she sensed Nel's distress, had looked up and had stared into Nel's eyes, a soothing look on her face.
"It's alright," she had said, "I'll help you."
Nel had been cautious still, checking to make sure that she was in fact healing Albel and not doing the opposite. When she was satisfied, Nel had gone back to healing Fayt, each girl doing their own part.
Now, though, Nel could see the obvious results of the young spirit exerting herself too much. Nel stood up and walked over to the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder.
When the spirit looked up from Albel, Nel smiled down at her and asked, "Are you alright?"
The girl nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Nel nodded and walked back to Fayt, downing the last of her potions in what she hoped would be the last few hours of healing.
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Fayt sat cross legged on the floor, his eyes wide open and yet unseeing. Fayt was staring into the past, reliving all of his mistakes.
"…my fault…they all died…Sophia's hurt….my fault…" the strange, prayer-like chant he had been repeating to himself mentally consisting of nothing but self hatred. All of the people Fayt had failed to save, all of the people he had hurt were nothing but thoughts, memories, and yet finally they were seeking revenge by swamping the teenager's conscience with hatred.
"Heh, pathetic." Cold sweat beaded on Fayt's brow when he realized that there was another spirit in the same room with him. Without wanting to, Fayt felt the power that had previously been buried deep within himself uncoil and come to life, ready to lash out at the intruder if the need arose. Fayt vainly tried to keep his power at bay, as he had done so many times before, but it was no use. Fayt would always be looked upon as something less than human, even in the Underworld.
"A tool," a voice whispered inside of him, making Fayt feel sick as he awaited for the usual headache that came with using his powers.
Fayt felt his awareness expand, his power searching for the spirit who had stumbled too close to Fayt. The teenager found the person, and to his amazement, realized that the spirit was sitting directly in front of him, rather than walking towards him as all the other spirits had done. Fayt felt his powers gather, knowing that the loud, rumbling noise would come next. The teenager focused his mind on the man sitting in front of him, and was almost knocked backwards when a rush of emotions greeted him. Fayt recognized the others soul as Albel, and quickly reined his powers in, forgetting about everything else as he focused on the swordsman.
The blue haired boy realized that he was feeling all of the emotions that the young swordsmen felt for him. Admiration, appreciation, rivalry, all the emotions that Fayt expected the older man to have for him. But below that, buried deeper to where Fayt had to concentrate even harder, were emotions that Fayt never would have dreamed of resided. Protectiveness, gratefulness, fright, anxiousness, longing, lust… Fayt tried not to blush when he recognized this emotion, but was unsuccessful when he felt his cheeks begin to burn, knowing that they were turning bright pink. Fayt straightened his posture and began to focus on Albel once more, his heart beating rapidly as he searched for one emotion in particular. Fayt looked deeper and deeper into Albel's soul, finding to his surprise no resistance from the swordsman. There, buried under layers and layers of emotions, was the one that Fayt had been searching for. It seemed like a small flicker of light that was likely to be engulfed in shadows at any moment. Fayt also noticed that the light seemed restrained, almost as if Albel himself hadn't fully accepted it for what it was: love.
Fayt's heart skipped a beat as he desperately attempted to focus on the outside world, his vision blurry. The teenager blinked rapidly as he tried to see through the thick fog, tears springing up in his eyes when he realized that Albel must be dead.
Once his vision had cleared, Fayt saw Albel where he knew he had been sitting, directly in front of him. Albel didn't see Fayt as the teenager silently stood up, since his forehead was resting on his knees that were drawn to his chest.
"Albel?" Fayt said, his voice cracking since he hadn't spoken in hours. Albel's head snapped up, his eyes wide as he saw the teenager standing in front of him. Fayt shifted his feet nervously as the swordsman simply stared at him, then the teenager reached up hastily to brush away the tears that were now running down his face. "Albel, I…" Fayt began, walking to stand closely in front of the older man, "I don't understand…what have you done…!" Fayt stopped talking as Albel quickly wrapped his slender fingers around the teenager's wrist, pulling sharply so that Fayt tripped and fell on top of the swordsman.
"Albel! Wha?" Fayt said nervously, his voice being quieted by Albel as he laid a finger to the teenager's lips.
"Shh, be quiet," Albel whispered, slowly easing Fayt onto his back so that he was now straddling the younger man's hips. Albel pinned Fayt's wrists on either side of his head, staring down into the teenager's face with a look that both frightened and excited the younger man. Fayt's heart raced in his chest, a million questions buzzing in his mind that he hadn't the courage to ask.
"I've missed you, Leingod," Albel growled, all the questions disappearing as Albel closed the distance between their mouths, kissing Fayt with a hunger that reinforced his words. Fayt shut his eyes tightly, feeling Albel's hand leave his wrist to trace down his arm, pausing at the zipper to his vest. Fayt groaned into Albel's mouth, parting his lips as the swordsman slowly slid his tongue past Fayt's lips to entwine with the younger man's tongue. Fayt reached up with his free hand to explore the swordsman's lower back, feeling the smooth skin and the taught muscle underneath that was exposed due to his cut-off tank top.
Quite suddenly, Albel broke the kiss and lifted his head up, staring intently down the dark tunnel that loomed behind them. Fayt dropped his hand from Albel's back and noticed that the older man had his hand closed around the zipper to his vest.
"Albel?" Fayt asked nervously, craning his neck to see what the swordsman was looking at.
"Be quiet," Albel snapped, glancing down to Fayt. "Do you hear that?" he asked, creasing his eyebrows.
"Hear what?" Fayt wondered out loud, turning over so that he was now lying on his stomach. Albel remained where he was, straddling the younger man's hips with his eyes fixed to the darkness beyond. Fayt strained his ears as he tried to hear what obviously troubled Albel. He only managed to blush, however, when he realized what position he had put himself in.
"There," Albel hissed into Fayt's ear, quickly bringing the blue haired boy back to reality. Fayt concentrated on listening once more, his eyebrows arching when he heard it. Footfalls echoed down the tunnel. How Albel had heard the almost silent noise amazed Fayt, since he could barely hear it now.
Fayt heard Albel curse under his breath, then felt the swordsman's body heat leave him as Albel stood up, motioning for Fayt to do the same.
"Who is it?" Fayt asked, staring down the tunnel as the footsteps continued to get louder.
"I don't know," Albel whispered, "but I have a hunch." At any other time, Fayt would have made fun of Albel for using Cliff's terminology, but when Fayt glanced over to Albel, the look on the swordsman's face told him that it was hardly something to joke about.
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A/N: As for the next chapter, my muse has run away again. I had her in a tea kettle, but she somehow escaped…so, it might take me a while to write it. I'm sorry!
As for the name of this chapter, I guess I'll say here that it is a song by The Killers. They're a good band. Check 'em out. Oh, and I am aware that Mr. Brightside has nothing to do with the chapter. I just love that song. XD