Chapter 28
Shin blinked, startled, and stared up at the familiar silhouette of Nasuti's place. Panicked alarm began clawing its way up his insides as he blinked again, trying to understand what had just happened.
The sun was shining.
A sweet, gentle breeze was blowing.
Birds were singing.
The grass was green and the trees vibrant with leaves in the height of early summer.
The lake was gleaming in the distance. He could just make out Nasuti, sunning herself on the dock several meters away.
"What the hell just happened?" Shuu grunted, echoing Shin's thoughts aloud.
He tried to process the warmth of sunlight on his face after the long, awful ordeal he'd spent in the dark, damp, bone-chilling cold. A thought occurred to him, and he made a fist.
"Busso, Suiko!" he snarled.
There was an explosion of scrolls and cherry blossoms.
And then he was wearing Suiko.
Shin put his arms out in front of him and stared hard at his armored hands.
He was wearing Suiko.
The armor's power coursed through him, doing much to flush out whatever awful energy was still lingering in his muscles and bones, pure and comforting, like an old friend. For once, he felt only relief as he donned it. He had his armor back. It was like he'd never been without it. Had he been dreaming?
He felt more than heard the other Troopers call their own armors.
And then there they were. Five armored Troopers ready for a battle that was already over. They all locked eyes with each other for a moment, and a surprised cry from the dock turned their attention down to the lake.
Nasuti had seen them and was running up to meet them.
Good. Maybe she could help them sort this out. Had it been some sort of mass delusion? That might make him feel better. He was feeling a little lost. Mentally, he was still standing in the middle of an open battlefield, surrounded by zombies, Rei at his side beneath a dull grey sky.
Now? He was warm and safe and felt completely out of place.
Rei was gone. The Senshi were all gone. Not even a trace of them in a bent blade of grass. The only sign that they'd ever existed was the hole inside of him where Rei had been. He hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye. Hadn't even known how important she'd become to him until she'd completely disappeared. He'd thought he'd have some time.
Time to say goodbye. To understand how much they'd all impacted each other's lives.
Hell. Even some closure would have been nice. Why the Troopers? Why the Senshi? Why the Underworld?
And what about Susano-O?
How was he supposed to move forward now?
Something bright white caught his eye, and Shin turned.
There, on the ground, was an ofuda. It fluttered gently in the breeze, as if waving hello. Heart pounding, Shin reached down with trembling fingers to touch it. When it remained solid under his touch, he snatched it up before it could be carried away on the wind. A brief, warm shock of energy climbed up his arm, and Shin closed his eyes, savoring the feeling.
He released Suiko, standing in the field in his street clothes, and tucked the small strip of paper safely in the inner chest pocket of his jacket, over his heart. Another shock of warmth slid against his skin, and his heart hammered a little harder in response.
It wasn't much. It wasn't Rei. It wasn't giving him any answers except one. He hadn't dreamed the entire thing up. Rei had been real. The Senshi had been real. So had the Underworld, but he'd take it.
Rei Hino had existed. And for the briefest amount of time, he'd had the pleasure of knowing her. And now, just as he'd feared, he'd live the rest of his life knowing the pain of what he was missing.
And wondering what might have been.
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Seiji closed his eyes, furrowing his brow as he tried to process the discussion they'd been having for the last four hours.
"It doesn't make any sense to me," Nasuti asserted firmly. Again. She could join the club, because it didn't make any sense to him either. He was vaguely worried that they'd all been sharing the same delusion, and that wasn't entirely a joke. He shuddered briefly as he remembered the terrible time he'd spent locked away, getting tortured while Korin ran amok.
"They dragged you off to another dimension but then took away your ability to call your armor, and then, in the end, claimed to be after Kikoutei? There is no Kikoutei. How can they be after Kikoutei?" Nasuti massaged her temples, wrinkling her brow. Touma nodded grimly.
"We didn't correct him at the time. It seemed smarter to let him think we still had it," he added, and Seiji nodded. Each of them had felt a bit startled when the demon had demanded an armor they hadn't had access to since Suzunagi had created new armors. It gave him an uncomfortable feeling about the battle. And Kikoutei aside, Seiji had been pretty sure until the last minute that the enemy had been after the Silver Crystal instead. He'd have bet his life on it.
An uneasy feeling crept through his bones at the thought. Something...wasn't right.
"And these other magical women who were fighting with you – they had something called the Silver Crystal, and that…" here, Nasuti hesitated, opening her eyes and putting her hands down, her expression thoughtful.
"Well honestly, it sounds a bit like the Jewel of Life," she concluded. Tilting her head to the side, she appeared to choose her next words carefully.
"It sounds like…whatever happened…you might have been exposed to some kind of parallel Universe. It seems likely to me that some sort of similar arrangement to what we have here – the armors, the Jewel of Life, and, I guess, possibly Kikoutei?– exists somewhere else. What's bothering me is why you were brought together," she added.
Seiji nodded again as her thoughts seemed to mirror his own, sighing heavily. The headache that had taken up residence in the back of his skull seemed to be getting more forceful with every beat of his heart, making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything save the fact that the battle seemed to be over. The Troopers had pulled through, as they always did.
They were home.
Whatever had had to be resolved in the Underworld had been resolved. Hopefully anyway. Even though he had a bad feeling about that. It felt like nothing had been resolved. Everything still seemed at loose ends, too many questions hovering over them, waiting to drop.
They'd been cut off without so much as a goodbye. And that final battle – that entity had seemed a hell of a lot like Susano-O but definitely hadn't been. Who was he in relation to the original entity that had dragged them to the Underworld?
He'd mentioned payment. That he'd been told about the fact that they'd been powerless – that they should have been weakened.
Something awful pulled at his guts. Who had the demon been working with?
That demon had had a master. Or at the very least, a partner.
But here they were, like everything was over. Happily ever after.
And he wasn't ever going to see Minako again.
His headache immediately became exponentially worse, and a deep ache took up residence behind his eyes. His memory recalled her bright smile, the way her lips had felt beneath his own. The way she'd seen all of him and accepted him as he was. The way she'd told him he was more than his armor.
He had no idea how he was supposed to move on from that kind of bond. From knowing a girl like Minako. He'd at least thought he'd get to say goodbye. To look into her eyes one last time and know it was the last time. This was worse. So much worse.
And all the unanswered questions…
Seiji told himself that she was probably back at home too, feeling just as puzzled. She was fine. She was safe.
He really wished he could believe that.
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Ryo grunted, lashing out with fists and feet at the heavy bag in a flurry of moves that ended with the bag on the floor in the corner.
Across the room.
Huffing out a breath, Rekka tipped his head back, scowling at the ceiling of his cabin. He panted, getting his breathing under control, unbothered by the feeling of sweat rolling down his skin.
Not much managed to bother him these days. Or everything did. Depending on who you asked.
He'd been downright pissed off with anyone and anything since they'd been back. His demeanor had gone moody and dark, and he hardly bothered even greeting people anymore. Thankfully, his job patrolling the Suicide Forest rarely necessitated having to interact with people. And he knew the woods well enough to avoid encountering people when possible.
He'd also been able to keep a lookout for anything weird or suspicious. They'd all agreed that things had ended strangely after the Underworld, and a lot of things about their supposed enemies' goals and desires didn't make sense. He brooded for a moment about Kikoutei. He almost wished he still had it, if only to make everything make sense. This uneasy feeling was driving him crazy. Absently, he rubbed at his chest, trying to dispel the strangeness that had settled there.
So far, everything remained disappointingly normal. He'd fought for normal once. Had tried to overcome the trauma of being a warrior, of facing life or death situations before he was barely a teenager, so that he could hold down a job and maybe try the dating scene. He'd nearly lost the Troopers in the process, and had ended up doubting himself and his armor.
Eventually, he'd come to the conclusion that he was who he was. He was Rekka no Ryo - the guy in red armor who was always going to try and do the right thing. Fighting battle after battle didn't exactly pave the way to a normal life, but what even was a normal life anyway?
Ryo had no idea anymore. Any time he'd tried to figure it out, what everyone else seemed to think of as normal sounded like absolute torture to him. Being in life or death situations on a regular basis just made the little problems of everyday life seem...stupid. And wandering around the haunted and melancholy Suicide Forest reminded him of his time in the cold, dark Underworld, a constant ache in his chest as he thought about Ami.
Idly, he wondered what she was doing now.
She was so smart. She was probably some brilliant doctor, taking care of patients in some high-class hospital.
Probably getting ogled by a bunch of perverted male patients.
Ryo growled, punching his speed bag so hard it deflated.
She was probably living her life.
So why the hell couldn't he live his?
It'd been weeks. Soon it was going to be months. And he still slept, ate, and breathed Ami. His brain replayed every moment they'd been together from sunup to sundown, and every minute in between. Why couldn't he just let her go?
Ryo stood in silence, staring at the wall, hands on his hips, as his breathing evened out, trying desperately to make sense of his life right now. He didn't want normal, but he didn't want to be stuck in this awful limbo either, did he?
...Maybe he did.
Candid with himself, he realized that he didn't want to let her go. He'd been telling himself she'd been a stranger, that he'd always known they'd part and probably never see each other again. That it was crazy to be so attached to someone in so short a time. But that didn't matter. In the short time he'd known her, she'd taken a piece of him with her.
There was no other woman who would ever curl up inside his heart the way Ami did. No other woman who would light him up the way she did. No other woman who could calm him with just a look, who could anchor him with a touch.
And frankly, he wasn't interested in looking for anyone else to try. He only wished he'd taken is feelings more seriously in the Underworld. That he'd made the most of their time together instead of trying to ke ep things platonic between them.
It figured he'd realize he liked her after she was gone. Ami Mizuno had become part of him. And he didn't want to forget about her.
So, he supposed, resuming his workout, he'd just have to deal with the pain of wanting her but not having her.
He wasn't ever going to move on. But he was ok with that.
Having the memory of Ami Mizuno was better than never having known her at all.
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Touma's hair looked a bit wild, but he couldn't muster it in himself to care. He scowled at the read-out as it printed, aggravated that he was no closer to figuring out how in the hell their enemy had grabbed them all from their own respective universes, or where the enemy themselves had come from.
Who went around ripping innocent people from their own dimensions and throwing them into dark hellscapes? It was like something out of a horror movie, and frankly, it hadn't sat well with him since it'd happened. He didn't like feeling as if he were a dandelion seed wafting on the wind, at the constant mercy of unseen, unknown forces. Too much of his life had been made out of being at the mercy of higher powers through the destiny of his armor. He'd barely made peace with that the last time something had knocked them all down, and he wasn't in the mood to try again.
He was tired of the constant threat of losing the people he loved. Hell. He had lost someone he loved, regardless.
Touma buried his hands in his hair as frustration and grief overwhelmed him. Looking down at his research again, he acknowledged that he probably wasn't going to find the answer using purely scientific methods, but he refused to try working with any magical artifacts. Even though he was using his home lab, no amount of precaution made him confident that leaving the scientific behind for the magical wouldn't blow up in his face. Badly.
And no matter how curious he might be, how badly the impulse nagged at him, the tiny thought that he could end up in a very bad situation - that he could put the rest of the Troopers through yet another loss, or worse, another battle - stayed his hand.
The risk was too high. The reward, likely too low.
With a weary sigh, Touma rubbed his hands over his face, trying not to admit defeat. He threw the small detector he'd built down on the table, wandering out of the closet-sized space he'd dedicated to research in his already small apartment and into his kitchen.
He winced at the mess there. Old ramen pots, candy bar wrappers, and take-out containers littered the minuscule counter space. The coffee pot sat in its base; a quarter full of a tar-like substance Touma supposed could be classified as coffee.
He pulled the last clean, chipped, mug out of his cabinet and poured the tar into it. He swallowed, barely tasting the bitter, stale flavor as he wandered into the living area and sat at the low table in front of his tiny, floor-level sofa, placing the mug on its glass surface and resuming his place reading in a book on magical artifacts. The book was one in a long line of similar books he'd been reading, and so far, nothing seemed to resonate.
He turned pages, sipping his room temperature brew, and tried to force himself to read.
His mind kept turning back to Makoto instead.
His hand slowed, his eyes dulled, as he drifted back to the Underworld in his memories. Her scent. Her smile. Her courage and cheer.
The way she'd looked so shocked and upset as she'd vanished.
Touma shook himself, coming back to reality. He scowled.
Hell.
For all he knew, she was fine. Doing whatever it was she did in her normal life.
The fact that he didn't even know what she did was a sharp pain in his chest. He didn't know if she was a lawyer or a nurse. Didn't know if she had a boyfriend. His scowl deepened, and he went back to his reading. His brain kindly reminded him that he didn't know if she'd healed either. If she was recovering. Was anyone taking care of her?
He sighed again, setting down his coffee and this time rubbing his face with both hands and simply resting there for a moment, his eyes covered.
Before the Troopers, he'd had no one. No friends. No one who cared about him. Sure, his parents had been...around. But both of them had been too wrapped up in their own interests to remember something as insignificant as whether or not he'd eaten or where he was.
Now he had the Troopers. And they were his brothers.
But for the briefest moment of time, he'd had Makoto too. And that had been different. Better than anything else he'd ever felt.
And all of that was gone.
Sometimes he wondered if he'd have been better off if she'd just kept her feelings to herself. Or if he'd been more cold, more indifferent. But the memory of her kept melting his doubt away, and he sighed, knowing he'd never regret the time he'd had with her.
Still…
How the hell was he supposed to just move on and go back to his normal life after something like that?
His phone rang, and Touma blinked, rummaging around before finally fishing the cordless handset out from underneath a pile of notebooks that immediately became unbalanced and dropped in a clattering cascade off the table. He winced, the loud, shrill ringing of the phone echoing in his ears, and he jabbed at the receiver, to shut it up if nothing else.
"Hello?" he asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use.
"Touma! You sound like crap!"
Touma rolled his eyes. Leave it to Shuu to just charge right in, forget about things like tact.
"Thanks Shuu. You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself," he snarked back, stretching and leaning back.
"I just call it like I hear it, man. Soccer with the guys. You down?" it sounded like Shuu could hardly contain his eagerness, and Touma cringed. Was he down to play soccer? Not really. Not at all. But the Troopers had all been making a solid effort to spend regular, routine time with each other. To stay close to each other.
Seiji had made a herculean effort to convince his family to open a branch of their dojo in the city. He'd succeeded, finally opening a dojo somewhere just outside of Minato. Shin was doing his marine studies at Tokyo U. Ryo was out patrolling the Suicide Forest, which had given Touma palpitations when he'd first found out, but that was close-ish for a guy that needed to be in the woods and couldn't really handle life in an urban environment.
And Shuu had been managing a newly opened branch of his family's restaurant – getting primed to take over even as he technically ran his own business. Impressive for a guy that hadn't been able to sit still long enough to meditate, he thought. Touma cast a guilty glance over at his counter again. Most of those empty containers were solely because Shuu had taken it upon himself to make sure they all ate a decent meal now and then.
"Touma? You there?" there was an edge to Shuu's tone and now Touma felt guilty. They were all a little on edge these days, and he was an ass for giving Shuu even a moment of panic.
"Yeah. Yeah sorry. I'm down for soccer. Lemme just shower and change," he muttered.
"Hell yeah! See you at the park!"
The phone clicked and then the dial tone sounded. With a sigh, he turned off the receiver, tossing the handset back on his couch. He stood with a stretch and then meandered to the bathroom.
No. He didn't want to play soccer.
He didn't want to be social.
He didn't want to do anything.
But Touma was a smart guy. And he knew it was important to keep the connection with his friends strong and alive.
That connection was probably the only thing that was going to pull him through the next phase of his life.
Hereto known as: The Time After the Underworld.
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Shuu groaned as he watched yet another ball go wide and bounce out of their field area. Man. Nobody seemed to be on their game today. He totally understood, but still. There was only so much energy a guy could punch up if nobody else was gonna contribute.
He felt just as awful as the rest of them. But letting himself or anyone else slide into misery and stay there wasn't his style. He had a hard time imagining Usagi – or any of the Senshi – approving of them all dragging their feet around, so he would keep yanking them all out into the light of day if he had to.
At least they'd all somehow agreed without agreeing that they needed to be closer to each other. They might not live together – their days of cramming into singular spaces while they battled dark forces were thankfully behind them – but he kind of felt better knowing that none of them were much more than a train ride away.
And it helped him keep an eye on them too.
"I'll get it!" he yelled, rolling his eyes and jogging after the stupid ball.
He scanned the horizon, groaning to himself again as he watched it disappear over a hill. Man, Ryo had a hell of a kick when he stopped paying attention and controlling the energy he put into it. The guy kept killing his workout equipment. He needed a serious outlet for all his pent-up energy.
Or possibly he just needed an Ami Mizuno.
Shuu turned from the thought almost as soon as it formulated. He'd been trying hard not to think to long or to specifically on their counterparts from the Underworld. Ryo might be full of anxious energy, but thinking about Usagi and the Senshi made Shuu want to stop moving altogether.
He picked up his pace a bit, trying to outrun his brain, cresting the hill and pausing as he tried to find a tiny black and white ball amid rocks, trees, benches with strange women napping on them and—
Wait.
Shuu snapped his gaze back to the bench he'd just glossed over.
That was definitely a woman lying there. And she had a lot of hair. Like, oceans of it. And it was a strange, breathtaking color. The pale gold of moonlight. He'd seen hair in that specific shade before.
In the Underworld.
Shuu's heart kicked up a rapid tattoo against his ribs, and he began moving forward again, forcing himself to keep his pace even. Telling himself his imagination was out of control. There was no way that was Usagi.
No way it could be her.
He needed to calm down. The soccer ball had stopped right next to the bench, he realized. So this was all perfectly normal. He had every reason to get a closer look. He should get a closer look. She might need help, whoever this not Usagi woman was.
His pace picked up without his permission, his legs seemingly working under their own power. Was she sleeping? She was so still. His throat tensed up and he swallowed over the lump forming there. He couldn't keep his breaths even, and he kept trying to tell himself that he was being ridiculous.
There was absolutely no way this was Usagi. Usagi was in another dimension. She was completely out of reach, probably living her life, doing amazing things. He was never going to see her again.
So he needed to just…calm down.
He was a mere few meters away now. Whoever she was, all that hair was obscuring her face as it seemed to cascade over every available surface, hiding her form beneath. He slowed again, coming to a stop a meter away from the bench now, his feet cemented in place.
He was dying to look.
He didn't want to look.
What if it was Usagi? She wasn't moving, he couldn't even see if she was breathing. What if it was Usagi and she was dead?
He shied away from the thought.
What if it wasn't Usagi? His heart fractured just a bit at the idea that it wasn't her, but really, that was probably closest to the truth. This was just some poor woman who'd stopped for a nap on a park bench, and Shuu was being a total weirdo right now. If she woke up, she'd probably scream when she saw him just standing here.
He clenched his fists and his jaw, firming his resolve.
He took her in again. She was too still to be sleeping. And the small swaths of pale skin that were visible through her hair looked…battered. Bruised. Her clothing was torn and dirty.
Whoever she was, she clearly needed help, and standing here staring at her wasn't going to do anyone any good. He inhaled deeply and let it out, slowly unclenched his hands, untensed his legs, and moved forward.
The figure didn't acknowledge his approach. It stayed the same. Unmoving, hardly breathing, if it was breathing it all. Buried under masses of beautiful, silken, golden hair. Shuu dropped into a squat near her face, ignoring the distant calling of his name.
With cautious, trembling fingers, he reached out, tentatively making contact with the strands obscuring her features from view.
They were soft as silk.
Releasing another breath, he firmed his jaw and carefully brushed the strands aside.
And fell on his butt when he came face to face with Usagi Tsukino.
