The Shotgun Approach
Chapter 30: The Four Elements
A/N: Back to Ettie's POV!
. . .
Anger. Raw, pure, so hot it made my chest feel as if it would crack like pottery left too long in a kiln.
Tears streamed down my face—furious and bitter. I chewed my bottom lip raw, missing the comfort of the ring that used to be there and hating the meaning behind why it wasn't. When I finally looked back up at him, all the emotion pent up inside of me burst out in a violent rage. A rage I knew he was hoping for but one I could not stop.
I shoved him, open palms flat on his chest and a twisted satisfaction bloomed in my stomach when he stumbled back.
I did it again and again until the proud demon was pinned against the brick and mortar of my building, rain soaking us both, but he burned so hotly it steamed when it touched his skin.
"You know nothing!" I screamed, raindrops and tears flying from my lips with my anger. "You know nothing!"
How dare he speak of my father. Of my past. He only knew what I was forced to tell him. He knew nothing about me. Nothing.
I pushed him again although there was nowhere for him to go. I didn't feel bad when his head slammed into the brick with a loud smack.
He shook his sopping hair out of his eyes and finally pushed back, forcing me away from him, the rain-slicked pavement making my bare feet slip. The friction cut them open, the soles were raw and painful. But my anger made it fade away like a distant memory.
I stepped out here to allow the rain to cool me, yet here I was, enraged to the point of violence with no way to release it.
"No, it is you who knows nothing, Etternia! You are so wrapped up and embedded in your own suffering you notice nothing around you. All you think about is yourself!" he snarled and then twisted the proverbial blade even deeper. "You play as if you do—becoming a healer, saving people's lives, advocating for demons and humans alike. But you are not a good person, no matter how much you pretend to be."
"You speak as if you have some right! You are a hypocrite!"
"Maybe so," he hissed, "but at least I don't spend my time ruining other's lives over my past."
"Go to hell, Hiei!"
People were staring as they walked passed. Some tarried, their cellphones out, most likely recording or calling the police. Either way, I was too furious to care. Let them watch. I hoped they would enjoy the show.
Hiei took several steps towards me, booted feet splashing rainwater up around his ankles with how hard they hit the ground.
I would not be intimidated. When he was close enough to touch I fully planned to shove him again, preferably to the ground this time. Except I was never given the chance. He grabbed me again, hands hard around my upper arms, his chest heaving with breaths too fast. He swallowed once, I watched as his throat bobbed, and when I flicked my eyes back up he moved.
His lips burned.
The kiss was hard and lacked all softness or experience, but it burned straight down to my toes. It was vastly different from the first one earlier in the evening.
I gasped when his knee wedged between my legs and spread apart my thighs and his hands fisted into my soaked hair, his fingers so hot against my scalp I worried he would burn patches of it off. He slipped his tongue between my lips and swallowed the curse on the top of mine and pressed his entire body against me. I didn't know where he ended and I began and I couldn't breathe but didn't care if it killed me.
Kissing Hiei was nothing like kissing Yusuke.
He swung me around, pinned me to the brick, and I was wildly lost in him. So lost I went against my better judgment and forgot about the people watching or the fight we were in or the bitter words first spat to start it.
Nothing good would come of this. I didn't understand it. But I couldn't help it anymore either. I craved the touch, the feeling of being lost in someone. It would hurt me in the end when he finally realized he let his emotions get the best of him and it caused him to react in such a way. Even still, I ate it up. Let myself forget and just feel.
Maybe that was his plan.
Then again, I doubted this would be his first choice to end a fight. Yusuke's? Definitely. But not Hiei's.
This was an anomaly. A split second in time where he cast his inhibitions aside. He must have warred against it from within...and lost.
His hands roamed from my hair to my waist, fingers pressing in, memorizing curves and imperfections. He pulled the hem of my shirt from my jeans so he could run his burning palms up my stomach, his fingers splaying across my skin and the feeling of it made me moan.
He ate up the sound, a thick growl lodging in his throat, and I swore his body temperature jumped another several degree.
The pit of my stomach burned, the ache familiar but also different. It burned so hotly that it brought me back to my senses and I wrenched myself away, turning my head when he leaned forward to try and continue.
His hands didn't leave. Not even when I took in a harsh shuddering breath and started to sob, the sound broken and bitter.
My high was gone, the rain was cold and my skin felt too hot and my mind was a jumbled mess. I was powerless, stuck in a world where I was hated and yet lacked all ability to change that. I made mistakes and did nothing to rectify them other than to become a nuisance and a waste of potential.
Yet here Hiei was...although his eyes just minutes before spoke of hatred so strong it was blinding.
The feeling of his touch was too much.
His fingers bunched, his nails pressing into my flesh as if he wished to slice me open and fit his hands inside where it was warm and wet and smelt of life. He dipped his head, wet hair falling forward to shield his face and for a long moment, I felt like I could not draw in a full breath.
"You need to leave," I finally managed to say, voice hoarse and abused.
He drew away, the loss of his warmth a startling contrast with the rain, and then he was gone. He vanished into the dark, the wind and rain carrying away his scent too.
I was left with a crowd of people gawping like fools, lips swollen and burning despite the coolness of the rain.
Damn you, Hiei. What sort of game were you playing now?
. . .
September 2005—
The months waned, all bleeding into each other. My temporary stint at the strip club in Tokyo was over, but I still needed some sort of income. My addiction took what little savings I had long ago.
I joined one of the construction crews still working to rebuild parts of the city. The work was slow going and tiring, but it was a job. I proved myself within my first week, showing the men I was just as strong as any other demon. They left me alone after that. I worked without the friendship and camaraderie of the past. It made me miss the station and my crew, but there was no going back there for me.
I hurt people. I did not save them.
I steered clear of both Yusuke and Hiei in fear they would ask me about Yomi. I was certain Yusuke must know by now and I didn't know how much the Lord of Gandara told Kurama after our meeting. It was best to stay away. Let them create their own ideas and scenarios.
All of them would be vastly far from the truth.
I would not heed Yomi either.
Until my brother and Magni played their cards, I would remain where I would be needed. I did not have time for what he wished.
Months past, one after another, yet there was no sign of them.
Still, I waited.
Something was wrong. I could feel the looming darkness in the distance like a suffocating cloud and wondered when it would finally blot out all the light over Sarayashiki.
When would Magni come for Yusuke?
Being vigilant was imperative, but I was so far into the drugs I often forgot my true purpose. What I promised to myself the day of the trial.
I craved the touch of another, to feel grounded and whole for the first time in nearly forty years.
Most of all I wanted to go home. Home to Artair.
The day I died would be at his feet, his frozen grave becoming a tomb for the both of us.
Do not look back, you are not going that way. Do not waste your effort on memories and things you cannot change.
The words rang clear as the day they were spoken and I hated him all the more.
He spoke those words the day he gave me the ring. He put me through hell to earn it and I did it with pride. I thought I was something great to finally have my father acknowledge my efforts. But the more I thought about what I did to achieve it, something in the pit of my stomach grew hard and cold. It was wrong, vile.
But it was the way of my people. The way of our kind.
Demons were not built to be soft. Only hard and fierce and ruthless.
Or so my father and many of the others thought. Humans were a scourge. The weaker demons on the other continent, an isle only reachable through the world tree, were tools to be used. Only our people were as close to gods as they came.
There was only one time I asked about the others—the other lands beyond the tree. The ones we did not know about and didn't dare ask because those were lands meant only for the greatest of beings.
My father slapped me hard enough to knock out a tooth.
It was the only time I was thankful Elementa grew six sets. If you saw one of my kind missing their teeth they were either very old or very stupid.
When my workday was finished, my mind hazy and full of smoke, the bitterness still on my tongue from the drugs, I made my way home. My bike still in storage, I walked the distance every morning and every evening. Shou kept the key to the unit and I was doing my best to stay away from him, too. He didn't deserve it.
Shou was too kind. Too soft.
Someone like me would only ruin someone like him.
The feeling of the earth shifting beneath my feet made me pause. The sidewalk wasn't deserted. Sometimes I didn't know if the feeling was real...being high...sometimes felt that way too. A true indicator was a crowd.
Everyone around me was going about their lives, commuting from work just like me, shopping, talking. No one noticed.
Just me then, I thought with intense disappointment.
Perhaps Hiei was right. If I wanted to get serious...I needed to get clean. I just didn't know how anymore. All the things I kept buried...they would eat me alive.
Someone bumped into me, roughly jostling me out of my thoughts, and I remembered I was stopped dead on the sidewalk. I turned to apologize, feeling the words die on my tongue the instant I got a good look at him.
"Hello," he said, a smile lighting up his ruggedly handsome features.
Features that were a dead ringer for my mother. Unmistakable.
He even had the eyes.
"You have to be kidding me," I murmured, eyes darting around the crowd to locate the nearest escape route.
"By your tone, I'll assume you know who I am."
"Don't know you. Do not wish to know you," I said, starting to walk away.
He didn't make a grab for me as I expected, he just took it in stride, flitting between the crowd as if he weren't some giant beast of a man. He was thin, his muscles lean, but he was so tall he could see over the entire herd of people crossing the street.
He walked beside me, a cheerful smile still on his face, and gently took my elbow.
The smile was a guise, however, when he turned on me and said: "It is in your best interests to follow me, sister."
"How many of you are there?" I snapped.
"I'm assuming you mean siblings? Including myself—the oldest brother—you have four."
I choked on my own spit, making a scene in the middle of the street when he pulled us to a stop to slap my back. "There, there. It's quite distressing to me too."
For some insane reason, I highly doubted that.
He (my brother?) pulled us into a nearby diner and picked seats far in a corner, secluded from the rest of the patrons. A waitress came by to introduce herself and give us menus, then let us be for a moment too long.
"I heard tales that you have met with our brother, Einarr?" he said, studying the menu with shining eyes, still smiling.
"I suggest you introduce yourself first, or I will not be answering any questions."
"Of course," he said, setting down his menu. "My name is Erri. I am the second born child of Jarl Vidar of the Ylfing clan."
"Erri, is it?" I mumbled. "What do you want with me Erri?"
"I want to know of our brother, Einarr's, whereabouts."
"I cannot tell you that, I'm afraid."
The waitress came back over and asked for our orders. Erri snapped his order out in a rush and I spoke mine in quiet clipped tones. In the end, the poor girl couldn't wait to flee from our table if only to escape the stifling atmosphere surrounding us both.
"When did you last see him?"
"It's been months. I was hoping you could tell me."
He twirled the straw sticking out from his glass of water and stared at me, blond hair falling over his shoulder in silken waves. He was pretty, in a strange way.
"I heard he caused quite a bit of trouble for you, why would you be looking for him?" Erri asked.
The stunning blue of his eyes showed true curiosity. I was quick to realize he was as far from my father as they came. A second disappointment, I wondered. To have another child be born so much like their mother. It would have come down to his skill on a battlefield...and if he was lucky, our father would find something just good enough to accept him.
I was, for a time. I sat beside father at his throne, was given proper responsibilities. But I had no hope to take the throne myself. None.
"Because I want to kill him, obviously," I said, nonchalant.
Erri, to his credit, chuckled a bit before his face finally turned serious. "Einarr is an idiot. He is in a feud with father because he feels I am not befitting enough to be the next jarl. He will be rightfully punished upon his return."
Ah. I see now.
Einarr was the spoiled child who they allowed to throw tantrums because it was easier than disciplining it out of him. Now, that child has grown into a monster they have no hope of taming.
"I don't think you realize the type of mess Einarr has made this time. Nor his seriousness."
Our food arrived in utter silence. We waited until the waitress put down the plates and left, before leaning over the table to glare at each other. So much for the nice guy act.
"The fact of the matter is," he said, viciously stabbing at his meal with the provided knife, "Einarr is family and I am not in the business of letting my siblings die."
"Is that a threat?" I asked, taking a loud slurp of the soup I ordered.
Erri sighed, putting his utensils down with a frown. "Surely you know you are...still a very sore thorn stuck in father's side. I mean you no harm. I have never wished ill will of you, but neither have I ever wanted to meet you. You, quite frankly, mean nothing to me."
"Then why are you here?"
"Einarr made to use you. He isn't one for giving up easily. He will try again."
I continued to eat until my bowl was empty, ignoring him for the time being. It didn't matter who he was. He was just another obstacle. Another piece on this vast board that was the game of my life.
Another piece I would conquer.
I placed a few bills on the table, paying for my share as well as his, and stood.
"I'm sorry, Erri," I said. "But I will be of no help to you. If I ever see Einarr again, I will kill him on sight."
Erri didn't seem perturbed by my statement, he merely smiled once again and leaned back in his chair. "I would like to see that, given your current state. I'll make sure to scatter your ashes to the four winds once Einarr's through with you."
I gave him the finger as I walked out.
. . .
Another brother. Four siblings in total. Seems father was busy in my absence.
Perhaps I was the bad luck, the blight on the entire family. Once I was gone they were able to conceive without issue.
Strange how the universe worked. Father thought he was cursed with me for so long. Having at least two sons must have been his defining moment, the old bastard. I hoped those sons would ruin him, but it seemed at least one was loyal. The other...the spoiled child surely wasn't.
The wind howled against the glass of my sliding door, rattling it within its hinges. A storm brewed in the dark, blotting out the light of the stars and covering up the moon. Fall was here and soon the earth would enter another slumber.
I sat with my legs curled beneath me and used the Magiks stored in my wand of binding to slowly etch out a new tattoo. It started at the cap of my shoulder and went down and around. So far only a quarter of it was finished. In the end, I would run out of stored Magiks and it would remain unfinished. My story. The story I had always wanted to tell.
Not my family's. Not my ancestors'.
Mine.
I was shocked I was still even able to use the device, but over the years my hand had grown so in tune with it that it was just like picking up a pencil to draw. Only some of the Elementa were born with the skill of binding.
I was an unlucky one.
Many of my clansmen bore my tattoos.
Even more most likely sought to burn them off after my banishment.
The thought of markings made a certain king's smiling face cross my mind and my hand clenched around the wand.
If you want to prove yourself, get clean.
Hiei's words still burned their way through me. He wasn't wrong. He wasn't.
So why did that make it so much harder?
. . .
A/N: Ah..ha...ha. What was the beginning of this chapter man? Idk.
I'm also excited to introduce Erri (if you haven't guessed I've got a trend going with the names lol). This is the second oldest kid after Ettie. He was born shortly after her banishment. You'll be seeing more of him soon :)