Actors Wanted
The Devil's Top Hat
(Day 22)
By: Little Ucchan
The blonde man in the European clothes took his cane, which was resting out of harm's way underneath his armpit, and twirled it jovially as he crossed the street. He stopped a few steps short of the sidewalk, staring down at his latest kill with content satisfaction.
The boy lay on his back at Gammon's feet, hand resting over his heart, where it had symbolically fallen. Blood had stained the denim of the boy's jacket right underneath his hand, and the darkness had even spread to seep into the white of his undershirt; a splash of red on his chest, mirroring the man's own attire. He chuckled at the irony.
"Gammon." The phantom demon bowed his head to his master, even as he still hung from the wall by an arrow through the chest. "You've done well. Good show."
He bowed again, and a cloaked figure dressed the same as Gammon rose from beneath the floor, except this one stood limp and floating, its hood empty of anything but the void.
Gammon's mask moved forward, a trail of gaseous energy following in its wake as he left his old body. The fabric of his garments slumped till it hung limp against the wall, still pinned in place by Maki's arrow. Gammon filled into his new clothes, the mask setting itself into place within the protective coverings of his hood.
The phantom knelt down in front of his master out of deference. "Your praise pleases me, Master. I await further orders."
The man busied himself with brushing away an imaginary piece of dirt from his coat's collar. "I suppose we could arrive early to our other engagement," he said absently, though his smile belied the constructed image of indifference he half-heartedly tried to play. "I'm sure my old sensei will be—"
A cough and moan brought both demons' attention to the body on the floor.
Maki gasped in a ragged breath and coughed again, rolling to one side to spit out the blood in his mouth. He clutched at his chest, pain etching his facial features into a harsh grimace. He took one look at the man standing over him, and made to stand, but then dropped against the side of the wall, the pain from his wound lancing through his entire body, making his muscles grow wobbly with weakness.
"Well, well, well." The man raised an amused eyebrow as Maki tried to get up a second time. "I guess you can't kill an assassin through the heart either."
Maki stumbled against the wall, another stab of pain robbing the boy's breath. He coughed harshly, almost all his weight pressed against the wall at his back. A few shards of something golden fell from where he clutched at his chest, and the man with the sky blue eyes smiled. "I see the god of war had lent you a hand."
Several shadow ninjas appeared behind them. The blonde raised a hand. "Withdraw your troops," he commanded with a feral grin. "I'm feeling a little… indulgent today."
Gammon obediently obeyed, the ninjas recessing back into the shadows. "So…" The man took a casual stride forward, switching his cane to his left hand. "You survived a bullet through the heart."
He raised his right like a gun, index and thumb out, and sighted down the length of his finger to the brunette's forehead.
"How about one through the head?" His lips twitched in the faintest of smiles as Maki's eyes widened. "I'm sure my dear sensei didn't have the foresight to guard you twice."
Fire suddenly erupted from the man's hand, lighting his glove on fire and causing him to take a startled step back.
"Master!" Gammon cried in alarm. Fire was suddenly all around them, the angry sway of the flames roaring in their ears. Then as swiftly as it came, it vanished into dying smoke, the embers of the flames that once surrounded them popping irritably at their feet.
The man examined the blackened glove before removing the cloth from his hand. The skin underneath had started to peel away at the back of the hand and at the joints of his fingers, blood pooling in the open wounds till they dripped down his hand.
He looked up to where Maki once was. Not surprisingly, the boy was gone.
"May the devil be my uncle…" A look of amusement and mild surprise crossed his face, and he laughed in disbelief, staring down at his wounded hand with an odd glint in his eyes. "So he stuck around after all."
"Ow! God!"
"Geez, Sage! Why didn't you say anything?"
"Oh gee. I don't know. You slapped me before I could get a word out."
"You took it in for stride, so I thought you were fine!"
"Children!"
Laura ducked her head, looking contrite. Sage huffed and continued walking stiffly down the street. Once again, Cye sighed in exasperation. Just like babysitting. The bearer of the armor of Torrent glanced at the nape of the blonde's neck. Even in the receding afternoon light, he could see the dark markings that peeked out from underneath the Ronin's collar.
Cye frowned and continued walking. There were no outward injuries the swordsman had sustained, fair for a bruise that was starting to blacken his right cheekbone. Yet the brunette could see how he held his face carefully neutral to hide the growing pain. His temper had also gotten considerably short.
"How much further?" Sage asked, though he knew as well as anyone, how far Cye's apartment was from their current location.
"Two blocks more," Cye answered anyway. He upped his step and came to Sage's right, matching the blonde's gait as he continued. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Cye can carry you the rest of the way."
Sage glanced at Laura and saw that she was only half joking. He huffed and reflexively ran a hand through his hair. Neither of his companions missed the flinch the action had caused him. "I can walk fine on my own. I don't need assistance."
"Hn. Could have fooled me."
Sage glared at Laura. "I said it wasn't serious."
Laura glared back. "From what I saw, it is."
"Well then, you can judge that it is serious when we get to the apartment. Until then, it's not, and I walk on my own."
Sage quickened his pace, leaving his two companions behind to play catch up. Laura took in a deep breath, wanting to strangle the blonde for all he's worth. Cye only shook his head and took a step forward.
A shock of energy jolted him back, and he clutched at his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt to feel the racing of his startled heart. Cye took a moment to get his wits about him when he turned to look at Laura. She was as still as he was in the exact same position as he, one hand clenched tight over her chest.
Realizing that he was missing two people, Sage turned around and stopped. "Hey!" His eyebrows furrowed at the odd scene. "Are you two alright?"
"Yeah," Laura replied after a moment, though she didn't look at Sage when she answered. Instead, her eyes remained on Cye, an odd look passing her features before she released her hand and moved forward. "We're fine, Sage."
Cye blinked rapidly in surprise as Laura's rune swung back against her blouse from her open palm. His hand traveled to his collar and beneath his shirt, where his fingers brushed against the silver carvings of his borrowed locket.
It was hotter than he remembered, as if it had been sitting too close to the burning embers of an untended fire.
Elsewhere, another man, in another part of town not too far away, helped his friend to safety. But unlike the trio of teens who walked in the open air of the streets, unadulterated and unafraid, this duo took the back roads, the alleyways, and checked each time they turned a corner; paused to listen for pursuing footsteps.
Maki didn't know where his remaining strength came from to be able to move his feet forward in his condition. He lightly played with the notion that his wound was not as deep as he thought. But, as he stumbled on his feet, his arm slung around his rescuer's neck as the man supported almost all of his weight, he knew that was not the case.
A few more moments. He wished safety was only a few more moments away, because he didn't know how long he could stay conscious. And he didn't want to be dead weight to this man, half carrying him along, when battle could erupt just around the corner.
No. Not dead weight. Not to him. Not ever.
A flash of light hurt his eyes. He thought the sun to be too bright, but then realized he had never been looking up. Maki blinked down at what had blinded him, surprised to see the gleaming reflective side of a canary yellow Porsche.
He was gently eased into the passenger seat, legs carefully tucked into the car with care. Maki shook his head, even as the door closed to his right and his blood already stained the leather seats, the carefully vacuumed rug, the back of the side door.
"Your car…" He croaked, rolling his head to the side as his friend got into the driver's seat.
"Forget it," he snapped roughly, starting the engine.
"But the…"
"I said shut up!"
The man huffed and lowered his head, bracing his palms against the steering wheel as the engine continued to hum. He was gritting his teeth, waiting till his head cleared behind the protective veil of his long, red bangs. Maki knew this already before the first sharp intake of breath was taken.
"Sorry," Maki murmured. He had never been angry about the car, and they both knew it.
The redhead took a long breath and leaned his back against the seat, letting his arms fall limp at his sides. The glass beads on his left hand clanged softly against each other, the Chinese good luck bracelet glowing softly dimmer as its wearer calmed down. He stayed that way for a moment, before shifting the car into drive. "Apologize to me when I can beat the crap out of you for it," he replied and pulled away from the curb.
Maki's lips twitched into a tired smile, and he finally let sleep overtake him.
The man strode with renewed vigor as he walked down the sidewalk, his dark cloaked servant following two steps behind him. He gave a gentlemanly tip of his hat to passing individuals, smiling disarmingly to the people cautious of his mysterious companion. Gammon snorted at the stares he received from the humans, and when a boy tugged at the edge of his cloak out of playful fascination, he almost sent the insolent child to the bottom of the abyss where all monster children belonged.
"Play nice," the blonde man warned, flashing his most winning smile. The mother of the boy responded back with a tentative nod. "They are simple creatures, after all."
Gammon bowed his head, chastised and careful to keep to himself. His master continued his walk, unhampered by his subordinate's near slip up. His unusual good mood surprised the phantom demon. Even the burns on his hand, already beginning to heal, did not damper his spirits. In fact, the sheer reminder of it seemed to make his master even happier.
That was most certainly Leo we ran into, Gammon thought as they continued on their way. Only the Master of Flames could burn the skin of a Shifter that effectively.
But as to the reason why that man would remain in this city, very well knowing what would happen if his presence were noted by his former BlackGuardsmen, was a mystery to Gammon. He's a fool for staying with an edict out for his execution. But then again, here he was, with the same decree on his head, and for treason instead of desertion.
But unlike the former Flame Champion of the BlackGuard, Gammon had his master's aid to shield him from the wrath of the Demon Lord's execution army. And his master was all the protection he needed.
They arrived at a familiar three way intersection, and like its unusual occupants before, they walked into the center of the street, stopping traffic and making heads turn. The man's smile never left his lips as he raised his hand, resting it flat against the air in front of him.
The space against his palm shimmered, and in the view of watching eyes, the strangely elegant man with the top hat and cane disappeared with his dark cloaked minion, not a trace to mark their passing between worlds.
So it has finally ended. Dario prodded the marionette's upper body with his foot and rolled it over to the side, or what was left of it. How many times had he struck it down? How many times till it was completely dismembered, pieces of the fallen demon strung across the battlefield?
He wiped at the cut that ran across his cheekbone, irritated by the sting of boiling poison. Similar cuts, all shallow in nature, were on his arms, one gracing the side of his abdomen, and the final, first blow right below his knee. They were starting to blister. Another mild annoyance to deal with.
Gruffly, Dario turned away from the body, its gruesome flesh a reminder that his adversary was definitely not one of Gammon's shadow minions, though it guised itself to be, and, the old bethshima guessed, it once was. Shikigamis, not carved out of shadows, but flesh? He had never seen the like.
Only six of the twenty globes had survived the battle. The veteran frowned at the number and the bites of pain that flittered in and out. I'm getting old, he thought glumly, compared to the honorable spirit of the young ronin who aided him in battle. This is not right. He pulled his chain free of the dead body and began to recoil it around his hand. I will speak with The Lord. He must know. Kayeda must know that our homeland has been freed.
Dario held his weapon loosely in one hand, preparing to leave, when the world around him shimmered, and two figures entered the private battlefield. One was Gammon, the treacherous BlackGuardsman that they were sent to execute. The other man…
"Greetings, Reverend Grandfather." The man took off his top hat and placed it over his heart, giving a deep bow of respect. "I see the Fortunes have been kind to you in your old age."
This other man…
Dario almost let his chained weapon slip out of his grasp. "By the gods," he swore. "Shiro?"
He raised his head at the mere mention of his name, and smiled a truly genuine smile. "You do me an honor in remembering my name." Shiro raised himself upright and placing his hat on top his head. He placed both hands on top of his cane's silver handle and stood with his legs slightly apart, giving Dario a small nod. "It is truly good to see you again, Sensei."
"And it is a surprise to see you, student," Dario responded in turn, his large hand gripping the coils of his chain tightly. "And in such company."
Shiro tilted his head to the side. "Does it surprise you that I should have Gammon as my retainer?"
"No," Dario answered after a moment. "Considering the last time I saw you your head was on a pike outside the castle gates for your treachery."
The blonde man smirked, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "So our loving Tajhinn-sama does have a brute side to him." He clucked his tongue. "A shame I wasn't there to see it."
Dario did not miss the implication. "How?" he demanded, his frown sharpening the harsh wrinkles on his face as he gazed down at this smiling ghost from the underworld.
The blonde man's smile was sinisterly sweet, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in delight. "Who was to say that the Shiro that lead the coup was the real one?"
So from the beginning! Even before the first rebel showed his face at Kanaji just a week ago, the plan for rebellion had been set in motion since Shiro's defeat at the Battle for Succession. The assault on the castle a mere three days after Tajhinn was declared ruler… Even the method of death for the former Demon Lord, all planned!
Gazing down at the meaty remains of the dead marionette, Gammon's role in this became startlingly clear. Dario growled, his anger brimming to the surface. "What game are you playing, student, to try and reclaim the title of Demon Lord through rebellion?"
"Rebellion?" Shiro laughed at the absurdity. "Who said I wanted a rebellion?" His laughter increased, and Dario glimpsed the first signs of madness in his eyes. "No, I am merely paying my dues to Our Great Lord Tajhinn-sama. For destroying my father's generation and mine. For crippling all old world demons who knew the call for blood and answered it!" His voice rose to an inconsolable roar. "I will repay him thrice fold for the taint of humiliation that now haunts my once proud race! Even if it means destroying them all!"
He's gone blind with madness! This was not the lord he had taught with the honor of a bethshima. Even before the failed coup, even before the challenge to his authority, Shiro had long ago stopped being the prized student he remembered.
"How the mighty have fallen," Dario whispered in disbelief. And Shiro had wholeheartedly agreed.
"Oh yes. How the mighty have fallen. Even the great bethshima race no longer has pure blood among their ranks."
Dario narrowed his eyes. That reference most certainly was not lost to him. "Where's the boy?"
Shiro smiled. "He wasn't fit to be a bethshima."
Dario's eyes darkened, and a shadow of animosity immediately blanketed the old warrior. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. The chain in his hand rattled with his rage. "That was for me to decide, not you!"
With a grief-stricken cry, Dario threw the heavy weight in Shiro's direction as the six remaining orbs rushed the man without thought. The weight wrapped around Shiro's raised cane, and before the bethshima could wretch his weapon back, the tip of the cane was deeply wedged into the ground, the chain weight tangled around the lacquered metal sheath, and the silver oni handle gone from its perch.
Dario took in a strangled breath, blood pooling around the corners of his lips before spilling down the sides of his chin. The six globes had been destroyed, and his former student now stood before him.
He looked down in shock at the man who'd slain him. His hair was slicked back, pressed firmly against his skull as if by a rush of constant water. His warm winter coat, protecting the tanned attire of a nobleman, flowed to a stop around his shins. His one ungloved hand, recently burned, held firmly the ornate handle of his cane above his teacher's chest, where the concealed sword had pierced through Dario's heart, just as he had taught him.
Shiro looked up at his former teacher, his eyes dark with disappointment. "And you are no longer fit to be called the Godfather of War."
He slid the thin sword out of Dario's chest, the silver handle of the oni and the blood that newly covered the blade glistening in the waning sun. Dario dropped down onto his knees, the life within his eyes slowly dimming.
Shiro turned to leave, then stopped, remembering something. "Oh that's right." With one clean strike, Dario's head fell to the ground. "Bethshimas can't be killed through the heart either."
Outside of the small constructed dimension, the world shimmered in the eyes of those who were there. And when it stopped, horror assaulted their souls in the form of smeared blood and a severed head.
Panic struck all mortals present as two beings suddenly appeared in the midst of carnage and death.
Gammon watched as humans ran, scrambling to clear the streets while others, in their sick fascination over death, remained paralyzed where they stood. A car skidded to a halt in front of him. The driver had fallen out of his car in his haste to get away while the woman in the passenger seat kept screaming as she stared into the phantom demon's ivory mask.
"Gammon." He turned to his master's call. "Shut that woman up." A slight smile of irritation played across his lips as he took out a handkerchief and began to clean the blood off of his sword. "In fact… shut them all up."
Gammon gave a slight nod of pleasure. "As you wish, Master."
Blackness bled out from where the phantom demon stood, spreading rapidly until every mortal present was standing over a sea of shadows. At once, shadow hands from the abyss reached out to grab them by the ankles, grab children by the waist, women by the hair, and cars where they stood idle with their frightened passengers. The screams of panic reached a new height, but were swiftly stifled as those black hands pulled them through the inky darkness, enveloping each witness until not one remained.
Silence was their only company.
Shiro wiped the last of Dario's blood off of his blade as the blackness returned to Gammon once again. "Much better."
He strode over to where the rest of his cane stood imbedded in the floor, and with rather great consideration for the weight wrapped around the round sheath, untangled his cane from the chained weight. Once done, he wretched the black cane free of the ground and replaced the thin blade within its depths, the oni handle clicking into place.
Without reverie, Shiro picked up the old bethshima's head by its long white hair and tossed it to Gammon. The phantom demon was quite surprised.
"Keep this for now," Shiro smiled at his subordinate's discomfort. Though a traitor, Gammon still held respect for his elders, even his enemies. Good. "A few unexpected tasks have been added to our agenda. Be prepared."
"Yes, Master."
Shiro nodded in approval. "Now if you'll excuse me…" He twirled his cane as he walked, a far too happy smile on his face. "I have one more person I must pay my respects to."
"Gramps! I'm home!"
"Ah," the old man stood up from his armchair as Ryo closed the front door behind him and began to untie his shoes. "You're back rather early."
The boy raised a dark eyebrow at his grandfather. He laughed. "What are you talking about? The sun's setting."
Grandfather Sanada returned his grandson's warm smile. "Well, so it is."
"Any messages for me?" Ryo asked as he headed for his room.
"Nope. But I'll tell you if some young woman calls you to steal you away again."
Ryo paused, grinning sheepishly, remembering Laura's phone call just the other day. "Gomen. It won't happen again."
His grandfather gave a grunt of a reply, but the boy knew that he wasn't truly mad about it. Smirking one last time at his old man, Ryo opened the door to his room and quietly shut it behind him.
He flicked on the light switch, bright blue eyes scanning his room for any movement, any signs of her. It was late, regardless of the fact this was the usual time he got home.
Taking a tentative step forward, Ryo softly called out her name. "Yume? Yume, are you here?"
A rustling came from underneath his bed and Yume's head peeked out from its side. Her lips slowly opened into a beautiful smile. "Ryo!"
He tossed his school bag on his bed and plopped down after it, just as Yume pulled herself out from underneath the bed. "Shh!" he hushed her with a finger to his lips, though his broad grin belied the seriousness of his plea. "My grandfather."
She covered her mouth in understanding, then giggled silently as she folded her arms on the edge of Ryo's bed and rested her chin on them. Ryo got more comfortable on his stomach, leaning the weight of his upper body on his folded arms. She bashfully kept her eyes up on him, as he reached a shaking hand out and touched a lock of pink hair.
"You're hair's still normal."
"I'm healing," was her answer.
Ryo's attention was then drawn to her left arm. He pulled his hand away from her face to gingerly touch the bandages that were now frozen to her skin. "How is it?"
"Coming along," Yume smiled. "It should be fine by tonight."
Ryo nodded in relief. He was glad. But the mere reminder of her injury, of the night just before, brought a grim frown to his lips.
Yume's thin eyebrows knitted together in worry. "Ryo?" She frowned when he smiled at her, again evading her questions with his innocent charm.
She was about to pursue the matter further when the snowflake pendant around her neck flashed once before growing hot. Yume took a sharp intake of breath before she pulled the pendant away from her chest only to have it fall back into place, the charm too hot for her delicate ice touch.
"Hot!" she hissed, trying to back away from it.
"Wait." Ryo urged her to stay still, both teenagers keeping their voices low as Ryo reached for the pendant around Yume's neck and cupped it in his palm.
It was hot. But only as hot as a metal seat basking in the summer heat for half the day. Nothing Ryo couldn't handle. Shielding Yume's pale skin from the touch of her necklace with his own hand, Ryo reached around to the back of her neck and released the clasp. The chain fell easily into his hands, and he set the trinket on his bed, where both of them stared at it in bewilderment.
Ryo raised a questioning brow. "What was that about?"
Yume took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, absently rubbing the skin right beneath her collar bones. "Kurumi."
Ryo's eyebrow seemed to pitch higher. "Who?"
"Kurumi," Yume repeated the name again. "He's the one who made the necklace what it is. The illusions and all." The pendant flickered with a red light. Yume cautiously moved to touch it.
Ryo grabbed her hand and held it. "It'll burn you." Yume smiled softly at the boy's consideration as he touched the face of the snowflake himself. It was warm, no longer the scorching hotness of earlier. The red light continued to blink in and out.
Slowly, not wanting to, Ryo released Yume's hand.
"Thank you," she murmured. Ryo blushed a bit at her simple words.
Yume softly pressed her fingers over the pendant, feeling the warmth spread over her fingers more on an energy level than the physical. Her thin lips fell into a frown. This is Kurumi's signature aura… Her frown deepened. The man was feeding her a direct link to his spiritual energy, possibly from some sister device he had made with her necklace for this very purpose. But something was definitely wrong. Kurumi never wants people reading him.
The light pulsed more urgently, as if sensing her hesitation, and whatever reserve she had, she realized that this was a special case, and the redhead would never turn over his most private thoughts unless it were very important.
She closed her eyes and reached out.
The instant her energy touched the pendant's, images from the most recent moments of Kurumi's memory flooded into Yume's soul. She gasped and snapped her hand away. But it was too late. The damage had been done. And tears had sprung from the young demon's eyes.
"Oh my god, Maki…" She shuddered, eyes wide in terrified grief over what had happened to her friend. "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…"
Ryo had half pulled himself off the bed to reach her, grasping her shoulders to steady her sobs. "Yume!" he called, them more softly, pleading, "Yume… what happened?"
She fervently shook her head, wiping away her tears with the back of her hands. But they kept coming. Ryo persisted. "Something happened to Kurumi? Maki?" She nodded her head, but still could not speak.
Ryo slowly swung his feet over the side of the bed so now he was sitting in front of Yume's kneeling form. His hands, so much larger than hers, lightly took hold of her palms and guided them away from her face. She jerked her hands away, shaking her head again, but Ryo soothed her softly with his voice. "Shh."
He placed his hands on either side of her head, and leaned over till their foreheads touched. His closeness forced her to look at him, to calm herself and breathe as she stared into his too blue eyes. "Calm down," he whispered, and she nodded against his forehead. "You need to get to them, right?" She nodded again, biting down on her upper lip as another sob began to resurface. "Okay, go out the window and wait for me. We'll take White Blaze. We'll get you to them, alright?" She nodded again.
"Okay." He kissed her softly on her forehead and pulled away, but not before smiling at her reassuringly. "Don't worry. Everything will be alright. You'll see."
Yume watched him go, wiping at her moist face, even as more tears began to fall anew, but for a different reason. She let out a half laugh, half cry as she picked up her pendant, now cool and dull to the touch, and rose to her feet. Oh Ryo… Her normal cheer began to return to her at the thought of him.
How easy it is for me to love you.
Telepathy, when you don't know what you're doing, is a hit or miss art.
Luckily, Cye had hit. And Rowen was a genius.
Rowen was walking quietly down the sidewalk, to passersby, seeming to be just another solitary teenager, heading home from school. But Rowen wasn't heading home. And he wasn't alone.
—So everything's okay?— Rowen asked, slowing his pace.
—As far as okay goes for us.— Meaning everyone was alive. It was good enough for him. —I can't believe you.—
Rowen smirked. He could imagine Cye shaking his head at that moment. —What?— he asked innocently over the telepathic link. —No one said mastery over telepathy was dependent on the spiritual awareness of its user. Just the amount of energy and focus.—
—And we all know you have an abundance of both.—
Rowen grinned. —Don't we all?—
The first time he had heard Cye earlier that day, his voice had been strong with the adrenaline of panic. And except for the fact that the message delivered was extremely vague (because the boy was so panicked), it was a very good commute for a first time telepathic commuter. Later, when Rowen had made a response back to Cye, (and rightfully scared the crap out of him), asking for him clarify what the hell was going on, Torrent's spiritual voice, not to Strata's surprise, was a faint, sometimes broken, whisper, no longer empowered with the urgency of before. It was only after Rowen bombarded him with question after question about what had happened to Sage, asking for every minute detail, had his voice grown clear out of irritation and forced practice.
Needless to say, Cye was now fluent in the art of telepathy as Rowen was. At least with each other.
—How far are you?—
—Less than three blocks. Why? You need me there now?— Rowen asked, a hint of humor coloring his voice.
—I shouldn't,— came the brunette's weary reply. —Just find Ryo for me. I don't think he heard. Kento already left a message on my answering machine, since he didn't know how to answer back.—
Rowen smirked. —I'll teach him how before he gets there. How's that?—
—God, if you're able to do that I'll cook you an eight course meal.—
—I'm holding you to that.—
He felt the mental link blink shut; once again he was alone with his thoughts. But not for long. Rowen did enjoy a challenge.
Concentrating, trusting his body's memory to guide him to Cye's apartment without thought, Rowen searched down the link of the armors, finding the vibrant orange color of the bearer of Hardrock. With a playful smile, Rowen established a mental link between the two armors and spoke. —Hey, Kento.—
—WAAAAAA!—
Rowen physically flinched as if he had been struck, a passing couple eyeing the boy cautiously as he shook his head. The telepathic link he had established with Kento only moments before had been severed, out of his own surprise, and his companion's. Rowen could only imagine how the Chinese boy reacted, wherever he was.
Taking a deep breath, Rowen tried again. —Kento?—
What he sensed on the other end of the link would be what one would equate to static. He felt Kento attempt to reply back, but only small bursts of sound came through, barely enough to make out a decent syllable with. So the lesson begins, Rowen thought to himself. —First of all, Kento. Stop. Just listen and follow my directions, and maybe we can hold a passable conversation on our way to Cye's place.—
He felt the remnants of a grumble flitter through before the line was calm, as if no one were waiting on the other end. Rowen continued. —First, find where I am. Once you can see my aura's position in your mind, find where you are in relation to that. Okay?— He paused for a moment, giving Kento ample time to follow through. —Alright then imagine a line, like a telephone wire, connecting the both of us. Like how we did this morning when we restored our armors. Just imagine pushing yourself mentally to where I am. Imagine that connecting line. And whatever you want to say, imagine it traveling down that line to me.—
—…know how the hell you expect me to pull something like that?— Kento's voice broke in, annoyed and very frustrated.
Rowen smiled. —You just did.—
There was an appropriate pause on the other end. —…You can hear me?— Kento asked, then more to himself, —Did he hear me call him a smuck?—
The archer's eyes went flat. —I did now,— he replied. —Just the thoughts you want me to here, Kento.—
Kento cursed through the link, not meant for Rowen's ears either.
He sighed. Teaching Kento how to shield was a lesson he'd rather save for another day. But he was proud of today's achievements. The chief strategist of the Ronins wondered if he could establish a three-way link with Kento and Cye. Well, it's not that difficult. Just stretch out my aura to Cye, have Kento do the same, and we'll have a perfect triangle. It was exactly like what they had done that morning at the ritual, which made it all the more easy for them.
—So what's going on?— Kento's voice broke into Rowen's thoughts. —Everyone's meeting at Cye's place?—
—Except Ryo. I'll reach him now.—
—He didn't hear Cye the first time?—
Rowen frowned. That had bothered him too. —Maybe he was out of range. We don't know how far these things can go. But he's back in the city now. I'll be able to reach him.—
—You don't want me to try?— Kento asked, eager to use his new skills.
Rowen laughed. —Contact Cye. Tell him I taught you and that he owes me.—
—Hey, I'm not that difficult to teach.—
Rowen rolled his eyes, but smiled. —See you soon.—
The link went dead, just like a phone click. He loved how his life had suddenly become so much easier. Humming to himself, nearly at Cye's apartment, he quickly found Ryo in another side of the city, stationary for the time being. —Ryo, you there?—
No answer. Rowen frowned, prodding the link even more. —Ryo? Can you here me?—
Still nothing. And upon further concentration, the archer realized that the connecting link that was to connect himself to Ryo had never reached the Ronin leader's position. In fact, it stopped almost half a mile before.
Rowen's eyebrows knitted together in a troubled expression as he tried even further to break through. Still nothing. He hadn't believed it to be possible, but the area Ryo was in was somehow deflecting his messages. Geez, where the hell exactly are you?
"Is this the place?"
Yume looked over Ryo's shoulder, scanning up the quaint three story apartment complex. Dark red eyes glanced over at the scarce parking slots that lined the back of the building and spotted a bright yellow convertible. "Yeah. That's his car."
Ryo felt Yume's hands loosen around his waist as she dismounted White Blaze, taking a few steps forward before stopping to gaze at the building once again. The giant tiger gave a snort, nudging the back of Yume's hand with a wet nose.
The demon girl smiled softly at the great animal, giving his head a reassuring pat. "Oh, White Blaze, I'll be fine." The tiger whined in protest. She giggled, kneeled down in front of him, and rubbed her hands playfully through the thick mane of fur. "You're just a big worrywart, aren't you? Just like your master."
Ryo made an indignant snort, but smiled. "You sure you don't want me to go in with you?"
"I'm fine."
"You want me to wait?"
Yume smiled, got up from where she knelt on the floor and took a step towards Ryo. She bent over to the side of his face and gave him a light peck on the cheek.
She pulled away from him, her cheeks slightly red at her bold move. Ryo wasn't faring any better.
He coughed into his fist, turning his head away for a moment and scratching his head. "Well, then… I'll see you later."
Yume nodded, smiling warmly at him before giving White Blaze one last pat and, half running, made her way up the outside steps to the second floor. Ryo lingered, even after she had gone, taking in her lithe form, her demon form, with her pale skin, pointed ears, and pink hair. He loved her pink hair.
"Let's go Blaze," Ryo urged. "I'm sure she'll be fine."
The tiger snorted, disbelieving, like his master, but complied anyway. Neither of their unease could be proven with solid evidence. Just a boy and his tiger, worried about his girlfriend.
The building was old and behind the times, nothing like the modern apartment complexes that were popping up like weeds all over Tokyo. In fact, the location itself was in an older part of the city, where many streets were small, fit for only walking or scooters, and where small shops and open markets, neighbors shouting over their balconies to other neighbors in conversation, and small shrines in recesses along the sidewalk to the gods were commonplace.
As her soft heeled feet stopped in front of a faded door, paint slightly peeling from age, she vaguely wondered why, considering the man's wealth, he decided to stay here.
Rapping against the door, Yume waited for a response.
A lock clicked at the other end, and a man the age of 23 appeared in the doorframe; his red hair and black eyes staring down at the petite girl in front of him. He wore a pair of khakis and a black dress shirt that was unbuttoned halfway and stained with splotches of blood. His hands, Yume noted with growing alarm, also had dried blood on them. She feared for the worse.
Kurumi motioned for her to get inside, and she obediently followed. Despite the haggard look she had seen on his face, he still had a hardness about him that did not encourage her to question him.
She waited as he closed the front door, then ushered the girl into his bedroom without a word. The short braid at the nape of his neck swished across his shoulder blades like a flicker of flames.
Kurumi allowed her to step in before him, and Yume shuffled into the half lit room, then stopped barely two steps in, seeing Maki's prone form lying on the full sized bed. Images of the usually spirited boy being dragged, half dying, through the streets of Tokyo resurfaced in her memory.
She forced them brusquely away and approached the side of the bed. He was asleep, she hoped, lying shirtless and half covered by a light blanket. His eyebrows were lowered in an expression of discomfort. Bandages were wrapped around his shoulder and chest, and to her surprise, there was no blood on them save for a few smudges on the surface that did not look like it came from beneath the wrappings.
"I cauterized the wound," Kurumi said from the doorway, as if hearing her thoughts. Yume blinked, then examined Maki's chest again. Sure enough, she found a few burn marks peeking out from underneath the bandages. "He was losing too much blood."
Yume nodded absently.
"Can you heal him?"
"Yes," she said. "But, I'm a little rusty. I haven't done it often."
Kurumi nodded, then left her to her work, half closing the door behind him.
Yume shuddered and self consciously wrapped her arms around herself. Cauterization? She could almost hear Maki's screams as Kurumi closed the wound over his heart by searing it shut. She suddenly felt cold, wanting Ryo's arms around her instead of her surrogate brother lying unconscious in front of her.
She never imagined she'd end up using healing magic on Maki. Ever.
The living room of Cye's apartment was strangely vacant, aside from Laura, when Rowen arrived on the scene. He had just reached Ryo moments before, and the Ronin leader was now on his way. He imagined that he and Kento would be arriving at the same time.
Laura looked him up and down, a scowl permanently on her face as she let him in. "You're late."
Rowen scratched the back of his head and looked askance. "Cye's message wasn't exactly telling."
She sighed and sat herself at one of the empty seats at the dining table. "S'alright," she said. "Not that we could have done much anyway."
"Where are they?"
"Sage is taking a bath."
"And Cye?"
"He's in there with him."
Rowen raised a very questioning eyebrow.
Laura cut off his speculations with a curt eyebrow raise of her own, daring him to say what was on his mind. Apparently, the actual circumstances surrounding the whole bathtub thing were far more serious to her to make jokes at.
Rowen backed off, finding it wise to let Kento take the shot for that one and waited for her to explain.
With what surprisingly sounded like distaste, Laura said, "He's healing Sage's wounds through water."
"Well that's rather convenient."
"He's not using his armor to do it."
"Oh." A pause. "Hn. That's…"
"Completely impossible."
"Right." Rowen was at a loss for words. "Is that why you're angry?"
At this, Laura sighed, leaning her chin against her upraised hand. The harshness from her face lifted. "Not really angry. More like really, really concerned," she explained, then began telling Rowen what had happened before he had arrived.
"So what's the verdict?"
Laura frowned, kneading the skin right above Sage's shoulder blades. Which would not help solve his condition, but it did help Laura think, oddly enough. And she found a few knots that needed to be worked out of his shoulders.
"You came in direct contact with the edges of that other dimension?" she asked, wanting to confirm.
Sage nodded briefly, doing very well not to flinch under Laura's prodding fingers. But it did hurt. "Several times."
"Was it always your back that hit?"
He shook his head. "The back of my legs too."
She allowed him to pull away from her, bending over in his chair to pull up the edge of one of his pant legs. Laura knelt down on the floor to examine his calf. Sure enough, the same dark coloring that stretched across his back also ran down the pale skin of his legs.
She stood back up from the floor. "Humans aren't meant to come in contact with the ends of a dimension. In fact, the ends of a dimension don't naturally have tangible walls."
"What happens when humans do touch them?" Cye asked. He was standing a step behind Laura, slightly out of the way as the ninja continued her examination. He seemed to have his mind preoccupied elsewhere, a faint, but apparent, crossed expression on his face. He'd put forth his best effort to appear fine.
"They die," Laura answered with a smirk. "But in our case, they just get bad burns on their aura, like these."
"That due to the armor?" Sage asked, releasing his pant leg and twisting around in his chair to look at her.
"Actually, the armor should have prevented the burns as well. Not the pain," she added, "But the burns. But you were in sub armor half the time." She twirled her finger, motioning for Sage to turn back around, then brushed up the hairs on the back of his neck to get a better look. "They're not that bad. A really strong aura cleansing should get rid of them."
"You can do that?"
Laura raised an eyebrow at Cye, who still only seemed to be dropping in and out of the conversation as if his attention were split. Laura ignored it, for now. "I can, but I don't really have a natural ability for it. Not really, anyway," she answered, then frowned at the back of Sage's head. "I need my stuff at home."
Sage turned around in his seat again, this time glaring. "You're not going without Cye."
"And I'm not leaving without someone here to stay with you," Laura countered, her gaze turning to ice. They had had this argument before, barely five minutes ago. Neither one of them had won then, and they definitely weren't going to now.
Cye sighed to himself, placing his hands on his hips. He had just finished his conversation with Rowen and was now fully back into the swing of things, much to his chagrin.
"Then I guess we're waiting till one of the other guys show up," Sage began.
"I am not waiting," Laura said decisively and turned on her heels.
Sage rose from his seat to stop her from going, but Cye placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Ease up, mate. I got this." He turned his head to Laura. "Will it kill you to wait a few moments? Rowen is almost here."
Laura turned back, anger flashing on her face. "Do you think I need an escort?" She stopped her tirade short.
"No," Cye answered carefully. "But considering our recent luck with any one of us being left alone, I think there's a legitimate reason as to why we should stay in pairs. And why are you staring at me like that?"
"Cye." Laura gestured slowly to the young man. "Lift your hand."
Confused, Cye turned to stare at his hand before he realized that it was glowing blue. He snapped his hand away, and where his palm had touched the tan-like burns on the blonde's bare shoulder, the skin had returned to Sage's normal color.
Cye looked from Sage to Laura then back to his hand, which was no longer outlined by the soft glow. But something else on his personage was.
Through the whiteness of his school uniform, a subdued glow of aquamarine in the shape of an oval glowed behind the fabric right at the center of his chest. Cye slowly reached inside of his shirt and pulled out the locket, watching as the glow intensified, as if signifying to its wearer that its time was now.
"So you're saying that," Rowen began after a considerable pause, "Cye's sudden boost of power, that everyone has been noting but no one bothered to mention—"
"You knew?"
The boy shrugged. "Didn't have enough evidence to prove it," he said. "Anyway, that his power is coming from a locket that suddenly appeared since the Kanaji battle?"
"I'm assuming he's had it since then," Laura corrected. "But I only saw it yesterday. And yes, his power is coming from the locket. And it seems to like him immensely. It wouldn't work unless he was on the other end."
Hence why Cye was currently in the bathroom, dangling a locket half submerged in water over the edge of the bathtub and looking pointedly in the opposite direction. The ninja girl had the foresight, when preparing the bath, to add bubbles to it, but she doubted that would have lessened the awkwardness between the two boys.
"'It,' as in the locket?" Laura nodded. "You're not suggesting it's sentient?"
"Actually, I'm suggesting it's a rune."
"Oh. That makes perfect sense," he said before his brain finally caught up with the rest of the conversation. Rowen paused. "Say that again?"
"I'll admit, I'm guessing. Unfortunately, I doubt I'm wrong."
"It's a rune? As in capital letters, Rune, like the Darkness Rune? The one you wear around your neck?"
"Lovely sense of humor, Rowen."
"I'm just saying," he said defensively. "The oracle readings your clan did didn't say anything about another rune."
"The oracle readings of my clan were notoriously vague and have proven time and time again to be completely unhelpful till the last minute," Laura countered with bitter irony. "I didn't find out till later, and on my own, mind you, that this," she pulled the rune out from under her shirt and let it dangle from her fingers, "represented darkness as an element, and not the devil as the symbol suggests."
"So you have been entertaining the notion that there are more runes out there. On the line of reasoning that elements can't exist without their counterparts."
Laura fiddled with the chain of her pendant. She decided not to mention how she and Cye had reacted to that jolt of power on the walk over. Actually, she was very content on ignoring that it ever happened at the moment, for acknowledging it would mean that Cye really wore an elemental rune around his neck, and the power that their respective charms had reacted to was, in fact, the presence of another rune. The whole notion, becoming more solid as she thought about it, made her feel ill.
"It could be a rune," she said carefully, retracting her previous argument, if just for her own sanity. "It could very well not be. But what does bother me is that Cye does have a very powerful trinket in his possession and that someone did give it to him." Laura frowned. "Or it found its way to him. Neither possibility is assuring."
"Why don't you want it to be a rune?" Rowen demanded, finding her caution over her own suggestion irritating, if not unnerving.
Laura took a deep breath, fidgeting with her rune a moment longer before letting it fall back around her neck. "Let's pretend it is a rune." She held up two fingers in front of her. "Aside from mine and Cye's, there has to be a counter element to my rune," she held up another finger. "Which is light, or holy, or… god." She shook her head. "Aside from that, there has to be a counterpart to Cye's, which is fire, if his is indeed the Water Rune. And if Water and Fire exist, you have to add to the lot, Earth and Air, because these particular elements don't exist in pairs, but as a quartet."
In total, she was holding both hands in front of her, six fingers raised. "Now, assuming that Cye is the only one out of the five of you who gets a rune," she took away two fingers, "that leaves us with four rune bearers unaccounted for. Four people we don't know. Don't know where they are, don't know if they can use their runes, or if they're even on our side." She dropped her hands on the table and looked at Rowen very seriously. "Do you really want to deal with that kind of trouble?"
He got the point. It wasn't even a hit or miss, fifty-fifty chance. It was split four ways between a powerful ally, a gung-ho trainee, a really deadly foe, or dead weight if it were a normal accidentally dragged in with the lot of them. And there was only one type of person they needed at the moment.
With their luck, they'd probably get all four.
"Possible trouble," Rowen agreed. "But also possible opportunity. I'll admit though," he added after seeing the look Laura was giving him, "the odds aren't favorable."
"That's why I don't want it to be a rune," Laura emphasized. "Give Cye anything else, just not an object directly linked to mine. We don't have time to sort through stuff like this, no matter how nice allies who actually know what's going on would be."
"You really don't want to take that risk?"
"Whether or not I want to is irrelevant," Laura sighed, resting her cheek against the back of her hand and turning away from Rowen. "It's not like I can make Cye's locket not into a rune if it were one. I'm just rattled, really."
"About today."
"About the last couple of days."
"Then we should really hope it's a rune."
Laura raised an eyebrow at Rowen. "You really want to add to my stress?"
"No," the boy replied innocently before grinning. "Just hoping for an informant, is all."
Laura narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out exactly what was going on in that blue head of his when, from down the hall, there was a distinct click of a door being opened. Steam billowed out of the open door for a moment before it closed again behind a red-faced Cye. It was hard to tell if it were due to the steam or… something else.
Rowen decided it was something else. "So… how was it?" he asked with the right lilt in his voice to make Cye's complexion color just by the implication more than any real act that might have occurred.
The brunette walked up to the dining table, and Rowen, wisps of steam rising from his body as it cooled down to room temperate. He gave the archer one of his sweetest smiles and said cheerfully, "If you say one word of this to Ryo or Kento, or if you have and I find out, guess where I'm going to stick your arrow?"
The answer came to him, quite clearly, and in a flash of colorful imagination. Rowen forced a smile. "Sure, Cye. Um, I—I'll remember that."
"Good boy."
In an instant, that cheeky smile was gone from his face, and he looked more like himself, plopping heavily down in an empty seat across from Laura. He craned his neck against the backrest and stayed that way.
"Did you get rid of them?" Laura asked after a deliberated moment.
"Mm," he replied to the ceiling. "I couldn't really tell with the lighting in the bathroom. But I'm pretty sure the marks are gone."
Laura nodded, deciding to check when Sage got out of the bathroom.
"By the way—"
There was a knock on the door.
"Kento's here."
Rowen bit on his bottom lip and made a move for the door, trying to hide his guilt. He now knew what Cye was doing with his time as Sage was healing. He was trying to get Kento to shut up.
A busy signal had now been added to his list of 'things to develop for telepathic use.'
That, and a code of etiquette.
Yume had emerged from the bedroom tired, but a bit happier than when she had first walked in. The smell of newly brewed coffee told her that Kurumi was in the kitchen.
Sure enough, the redhead was pouring himself a cup, sporting a fresh set of clothes and a small towel around his shoulders. His hair was still damp and unbraided from his shower.
He raised an eyebrow at her when she stopped in front of the dining counter and took up a seat on one of three high stools. He held up the pitcher of coffee. Yume declined and he set the pitcher back on the brewer.
"I've healed the wound," Yume announced, though she felt it unnecessary. Kurumi knew she would have healed the wound, completely at that. He was the type of guy who knew when people got things done before they even finished them.
Still, to his credit, he gave the girl an appreciative nod and sipped his coffee.
There was a collective moment of silence that you get when both people present were locked in their own thoughts. Yume, despite knowing she had healed Maki's body, was wondering if he'd ever wake up.
A tap against her left arm brought her out of her musings, and to her surprise, Kurumi was next to her, his back leaning against the countertop with one elbow casually resting on the tiled surface nearest to her. He lowered the mug in his right hand, steam rising from the still freshly hot liquid, then tapped Yume's wound again with his left. "Where'd you get that?"
Yume touched her bandages at the mention of it, but was finding it difficult to reply.
Kurumi took another sip of his coffee, then, without reservation, downed the rest of the cup and set it on the counter with an audible thump. "You're not on duty." Meaning, because she wasn't on assignment, she shouldn't have received such a wound in the first place.
Yume looked down guiltily. "I know."
"Does Tajhinn know?"
Yume shook her head.
Kurumi frowned, or rather, his frown remained there. He rarely had anything to smile at. This particular atmosphere didn't encourage him either.
"Go back to the castle, Yume. Tell Tajhinn what happened, then ask for asylum within the castle walls."
Yume's head shot up from where she was carefully staring at the marble patterns on the countertop. Asylum? She looked up at Kurumi and found that the man was staring away from her, out at the expanse of his living room. "But why? I didn't—"
"Just do it!" he snapped, turning to glare at her.
Yume froze upon meeting his gaze. The normally black eyes were starting to show color, an increasing lightness that gleamed in his irises. The black Chinese bracelet around the man's wrist was going through the same transformation.
The demon-girl scrambled off of her stool. "O-Okay," she replied shakily, then backed against the front door before opening it and shuffling out in a hurry. Her retreating footsteps grew faint before they couldn't be heard through the apartment walls anymore.
Kurumi stared at the closed door a moment longer, as if, by chance, Yume would be there once again. When it didn't happen, he palmed his mug and pushed himself off the counter.
"Nice of you to place her out of harms way."
Kurumi threw back his mug in the direction of the newcomer and pushed himself backwards, drawing his left arm back, the beads around his wrist already a dark, crystalline red as he called upon his flames.
The ceramic mug was hardly any defense against a fully tempered rapier, and it smashed to pieces against the weight of the double-bladed sword, its owner rushing the man with a speed that could only be cursed onto the demonic.
Kurumi braced his bare feet against the carpet and thrust his palm forward, just as his blond attacker grabbed his hand and flipped the hilt of his sword.
There was a thud and a curse as Kurumi's back slammed against his front door. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. His left arm was pinned above his head by his attacker's own left hand. The man's other hand, gloveless and burnt, held the hilt of his sword off to the right side of Kurumi's face, the base of the blade pressed ever menacingly against the redhead's neck.
However, Kurumi's right hand was free and radiating an ungodly light that matched his bracelet and his now, red irises. Index and middle fingers pressed against the space right beneath the finely dressed man's ribs, Kurumi was ready to release another blast of fire straight into his gut. Behind them, the blonde's top hat was burning happily on the ground.
All in all, it was a perfect standstill. Aside from one small detail.
Shiro couldn't be killed with one blow.
The blonde leaned in closer to Kurumi's face and smirked. "Hello there, Leo." His whispered words suggested an intimacy that made the redhead's face contort in rage. "A pleasure to see you again."
"Get off me."
He jabbed his fingers into Shiro's chest and the blade was pressed harder against his neck. A small line of blood started to well up against the blade and slide down to Shiro's fingers. The blond man tsked.
"Now, now," he warned good-naturedly. "We've danced this tango before, and you know how it turns out. You do me a favor, and I'll keep one of your friends alive."
"Right," Kurumi grounded out. "One of my friends, meaning you'll kill the other one."
"Now that's entirely up to you. I'm willing to negotiate. But I do wish you'd lower your hand. I think it's searing through my vest."
Kurumi glared at him.
"Come now, you know I won't kill you." Shiro smiled, then leaned in even closer, into the man's unbound hair, and breathed in his freshly washed scent. His blue eyes turned a golden yellow and his pupils shrunk into almond slits. "I rather fancy you alive." He nipped at Kurumi's ear, and it took an extreme amount of fierce control not spear Shiro through the stomach or to pull away, and the blonde man knew it. He smiled. "To torment, that is."
Shiro had suddenly released him and now stood a good few steps into his living room, his sword already sheathed in its' cane disguise as he glanced about the room. "Nice place you've got here," he said. His eyes were back to their light blue color. "Seems you're doing well for yourself."
A warning behind the almost flippant words. Shiro would take it all away the moment he crossed him.
"What do you want?" Kurumi demanded, raising a hand to the shallow cut on his neck.
The blonde flashed a wide grin, the one he'd often use when he knew he'd won. "I just need you to deliver something for me."
A giant length of chain suddenly appeared in Shiro's hand. Kurumi recognized it immediately.
"Make sure Tajhinn gets this," Shiro dropped Dario's weapon on the floor, the weight making a muffled thump against the carpet. "With my deepest condolences, of course."
Kurumi looked from the weapon on the floor to Shiro, a dark scowl marring his features. "I can't do that. You know I can't do that."
"Do I really?" the man asked, as if slightly annoyed. "We haven't seen each other for four years and you expect, just because I know where you live, that I know about your fallout with the BlackGuard?" His smile was nasty, curled up in a bastard's grin. "Do say hello to Minerva for me. I had been looking forward to seeing the two of you wed."
He bent over and picked up his charred hat, examining it before dusting it off and frowning. "Such a disappointment, that was."
The space behind Shiro morphed into a black hole as the man gracefully placed his top hat back on his head and tapped his cane once against the carpet before giving a grand old gentleman's bow. "Well then, as always Leo, I look forward to working with you again."
And then he was alone, with an omen of death glorified by chains at his feet and a message of war eagerly waiting to be delivered by his not-so-eager parched lips. Kurumi cursed violently and snapped his hand away from his neck. It was covered in blood and glowing withthe fire of his anger.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
I just realized the amount of people who will be (or are already) mad at me, especially since I got so many Dario responses. But I did love him. Just Shiro's a bastard. But I love him too as a character, but not like the way I love Dario. For one, I'd never hug Shiro, for he'd do one of two things (a) stab me or (b) feel me up. …Actually, he'd do both. :cough: Anyway…
They'll probably be one more update after this before school starts for me again. Then anything goes. But I was rather good at keeping a page a day last quarter, so I may be able to manage this time, except come my month of finals. :sigh:
Well, everything's sort of winding down for now. Maki's not dead. Sage is safe. And the guys are having a very colorful time mastering telepathy. Ryo and Yume's relationship is steadily growing, lending itself to much explaining and further complications later.(I'm really going to have fun with that.) Cye most likely is going to meet Nancy again sometime soon and we have another person who will most likely partake in the fight: Kurumi a.k.a. Leo a.k.a. former 6th Rank Officer of the BlackGuard. How'd you like Leo, BTW? I'm sure Panthera was pleased. :wink:
Oh! And the plot actually got clearer with the intro of the bad guy. At least… I think so. How'd you like Shiro, BTW? He's a dirty demon. Dirty dirty…
There were far too many yaoi jokes in this chapter than what I am used to. :sweatdrop:
And I do apologize if my style of writing had suddenly become overly sarcastic and witty in comparison of the last chapter that I had posted barely a week ago. I have a little bit of Good Omens still in my system. Actually, a lot, in fact, evidence being the large overuse of italics for emphasis in dialogue and the roundabout but extremely logical conversation between Laura and Rowen. :sweatdrop:
Ucchan