Impetus to Death
By ursan-canine
Prologue
It was dark outside. The storm has already announced its arrival – a slight drizzle formed then bigger droplets of water lashed down onto the ground. He was sitting there, patient, as usual, waiting for the rain to pass. He thought it would. He wished it would.
He's been there for hours now. Nothing's changed in his routine. It was going to be another week before he can step back into Makai. And here is, wallowing in the silence brought by the pounding winds of the storm. He wasn't going anywhere. Even the trees seem to reject him now, warning him that a lightning might strike him down.
Being silent in his solitude was one of the few things he's fond of. It was, actually, the only thing he liked as of the moment, knowing that going back to the temple would only be irritating. Yes, the temple. It is full of demons now. Stragglers after that inter-dimensional gap ruptured. He thinks of himself as a straggler sometimes. But he guesses not.
A sigh escapes his lips as the rolling thunder sounded off. He knew he can't move into some other shelter as of the moment. The wind was too harsh, the water too annoying, and the sound too deafening. Even the lightning seemed frightening to him right now.
He's being sheltered by a waiting shed, instead of a bunch of leaves and branches. It sure is weird for him. He wanted to go somewhere else, but under the circumstances, even the nearest house was suicide.
It was too much - the storm reminded him of how he fell, how he heard the silent sobs and anxious faces of the elders as they forced his aunt to throw him off. He doesn't like the idea of remembering these things. But with the way the gusts howled and the splashing of the rain looked, he knew he can't escape the trip down memory lane.
It was really cold back then, so much like now. Even within the embrace of that woman, he remembers his feelings leave him cold and blue-lipped. He can hear the screaming of his mother, cries transitioning from anger to pain to plea. He heard everything. He saw it too - his mother's bloody kimono being pulled along with her body so as not to catch up to the walking woman who embraced him. It was his supposed death but then again, fate was cruel for letting him live.
He shudders. The memory was disgusting. It wasn't even worth remembering. But it always comes to him, haunting every time a storm comes by. It gives him a headache, a nauseous feeling that he hates.
A car passes by, splashing water all over the inside of the shed. He got wet. Now, that pissed him off. He tried to move but then remembered that it was a fool who would go after a speeding car. So he sat there, cross-legged, irate and fuming at the cursed car and its driver. He definitely needed to get out of this shed. It irritated him that he's being immobilized by sheer memory and sound of the rains.
He hugged his cloak tighter around him, thinking of what to do next. Should he run out into the rain? Or wait till the sun comes up for tomorrow's new day? It was dark enough already, the afternoon seemed like evening.
What to do, he doesn't know. But he had to stand up and get away. And so he did.
The rain frightened that little part of him, the only thing left of his innocence. It scared that little voice, so much like the way he felt as he plunge into the white darkness of snow during the fall. He was scared, but he ran through the rain, keeping his dignity intact, not flinching as another lightning zigzagged through the dark wet clouds.
He kept running. He felt pathetic for this fear, the fear that consumes him every time a storm comes. It wasn't even snow. And yet the memories keep on chasing him, bounding behind him, a wolf pursuing its prey. He kept running.
A flash. The thunderbolt cracked the sky.
He yelped, something he can't restrain from doing. The rain was raging now, nature mad as the one that created his fear. He fell. He was unmoving on the ground. He hugged himself. He can't believe it, this fear actually weakened him, turning him into a helpless kid on the street. His size was not helping either.
No one seemed to be as stupid as he was as he went out of that shed. He realized that too, although it was too late. He tried to move again from the spot where he fell after that bolt scared the wits out of him. No such luck. He was scowling now, angry at himself. He was weak after all.
He covered his ears as he heard another warning from the sky. He just had to move his limbs and run. That's what he's supposed to do. He has killed many already – but why the hell is the sky more terrifying than any demon with the same powers as Sensui's? Why the hell does it carry the same terrifying air of the old woman who told Rui to throw him off?
He was scared shitless now. His mind wasn't functioning, the thunder wasn't helping, and his limbs seem to have been injected by some paralyzing drug. He can't stand up. All he can do is scrunch his ears, wishing he won't hear anymore of the gust that walloped his back. His cloak was wetter than that of a sinking man, his eyes shut tight like a fetus. He wanted to get out of here – BUT HE CAN'T.
He realized he was trembling. Not just because of the cold, but the cruel memory that froze him on this flooded street. He doesn't even realize he is well-armed, his sword intact, and his jagan blazing on its own. He doesn't know anymore. He can't think straight. He knew the stress of the introspective dilemma was eating away his consciousness. Emotions can get the best of you.
He was seeing black when he realized his body can't hold up anymore. Too many thoughts, too many memories, too many voices in his damned brain. He can't take it anymore. He just can't.
He collapsed.
Seeing black, he felt the cold.
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A/N: edited. Finally. Updates soon to come. I will personally kick my ass to get the next real chapter up. Review. :D