They find his body amidst the rubble.
It had been an unspoken agreement between the three of them. The aftershocks of the battle and sudden evacuation had settled down, a thick blanket of shock and grief settling on the refugees and fighters like ash coating the destroyed landscape that used to be Kouen City. The initiation of the Gift Game had taken all of them by surprise, the unending waves of demonified Titans akin to a battering ram against their paper thin morale.
No one had expected the ground to erupt from right under them, the ancient demon lord breaking through the seal that had been placed on him centuries ago.
With the appearance of the third party, the Game had been paused, and the members of the Salamandra community found their strength returning to them – not that it did them much good, with how injured and weary they already were, running on the last reserves of strength to ensure the civilians could escape.
Now, with the commotion and panic slowly dying down, Asuka, Yo and Kuro Usagi turned to face the burning city. Each of them had seen the bright, searing light that had exploded in the epicentre, had felt the tremors beneath their feet from the impact of the explosion and understood that the last of their comrade was still stubbornly clinging on – was still fighting so that they could run.
They didn't exchange words – they didn't need to. It was unbearable, knowing that they couldn't have helped him, that they couldn't have fought beside him against that monster. It was downright unthinkable to even entertain the notion of leaving him behind.
Asuka stared at the decimated city – the once glorious and bustling city reduced to an ashen husk, thick black smoke billowing in the wind. At any other time, she would have gaped in a manner unbecoming of someone of her status, stunned by the sheer destructive power contained within his body. Now, with the image of the two headed dragon and it's inhuman roar and the animalistic instinct to flee when she laid eyes on it – she could only clutch at her chest, hoping to catch a glimpse of that cocky smirk once again.
"It's silent." She whispered.
Trodding forward, Almathea bent her head until it was hovering just above Asuka's shoulder, snorting her assent.
Turning, Asuka met the sombre gazes of Yo and Kuro Usagi, the latter looking like she was a hairsbreadth away from cracking completely. Carefully, wordlessly, Asuka helped Yo up onto Almathea's back, the divine goat bending down to let her master's friend climb onto her back.
The goat was large enough to carry the three of them, but before she could reach for Kuro Usagi, Jack – having returned to his pumpkin form – rested a hand on her shoulder.
"I will accompany you." He intoned solemnly.
Asuka felt a brief flash of irritation, wishing he was back in his human form so she could at least read the emotions on his face. Shaking her head, she clambered up onto Almathea's back as well, letting Yo grab her waist before nudging the goat.
They travelled like this, hearts heavy as they slowly approached the crumbling city.
Of their little ragtag group, only Jack and Asuka hadn't been present when Izayoi stayed back to buy them time to evacuate the city. Almathea had told her master that it was impossible for anyone to survive against the ancient demon, even for one as powerful as Izayoi, but Asuka refused to believe it. She refused to recall the way hope had burned so fiercely in her heart, only to be cruelly snuffed out when they realized that reinforcements weren't coming. (The guilt burned in her chest nonetheless – if she had known earlier, she could have done something, anything –)
Her knuckles were white with how tightly she was gripping the reins.
Yo was glad to be seated behind Asuka. She was glad that she did not have to face any of her friends, that she could bury her face in Asuka's hair and ignore the silence ringing in her ears, the smell of charred flesh, the dryness of ash coating her tongue –
She wished it were that easy to ignore her own incompetence.
She had been so angry, had pushed the gift – the precious gift – that her father had bestowed upon her to its limits, and now it was nothing more than a piece of wood hanging from her neck. She couldn't hear anything but the crackling of rubble as they broke off and fell, she couldn't smell anything apart from the burning permeating the entire city, she couldn't even stand on her own two feet.
Kuro Usagi and Garol-san had both said she was powerful – even the black gryphon, Graiya, had admitted to that as well, surprised by the power she wielded with the Genome Tree.
And yet – even with all that power, she couldn't do anything to help her friend when he needed her the most. No, she had to escape, to run away and leave Izayoi behind to handle everything.
"He's here." She had said, when His Highness had attacked Kuro Usagi back at the arena. It had been a comfort, to see Izayoi appear, like a ray of light in absolute darkness. She, who wanted to fight alongside him, who wanted him to ask her to stay, to watch his back – all that promise to get stronger and for what? She still turned and ran at the first sign of trouble, couldn't do anything against a power that devastating. She – like everyone else in their community – still relied on Izayoi to get them through their darkest hours.
Yo knew that Asuka believed that Izayoi was alive.
She wished she had her friend's confidence.
She wished that she could somehow scrub the image of Izayoi's pained grimace from her mind, the look of his resigned smile, as though he had known full well that he wasn't coming out of the battle alive. In the few months that they'd been summoned to Little Garden, she had never once seen Izayoi show so much as a wince. Not when his right arm had been mangled and burnt beyond recognition in their fight against Pest – a wound that should have had anyone paralyzed with pain, not when his left shoulder had a bloody hole torn in it by Leticia's shadow thorns, not even when he had suffered from broken bones and internal bleeding after his duel against Koryuu-san.
Yo shivered, recalling with perfect clarity the agony in his voice that he'd tried to hide – a last ditch attempt to protect them even at the end. There was little chance of survival, she knew that. And yet... Yō looked over to Kuro Usagi, the normally bright and cheerful rabbit lying in Jack's arms listlessly, her spark doused. She remembered the fear that had gripped her heart when Kuro Usagi – defenseless and stunned – had sat there, unmoving while the three headed dragon swooped down to rip her apart –
Yō pressed a fist to her lips, overwhelmed with sudden emotion. She wished more than anything for her enhanced senses now – senses that she'd always taken for granted – if only to be able to pick up even the slightest whisper of a heartbeat in the dreadful silence.
Kuro Usagi wrapped her arms around Jack's neck, taking care not to loosen her grip. If she fell now, her fragile human body would break upon impact, and she wouldn't be getting up for the next month or so. Gritting her teeth, she felt the telltale burning of tears in her eyes, and blinked furiously to get rid of them. She scanned the horizon – the entire city reduced to rubble and ash – desperately trying to gain a glimpse of No Name's biggest problem child.
Her biggest problem child.
She was teetering on the edge of an abyss, the sight of the white, three-headed dragon and it's six crimson eyes sending her hurtling into the past. The smell of burning wood and charred flesh and the thick ash coating her throat, threatening to choke her, reminded her of that fatal day two centuries ago.
"Sorry, about that promise to retrieve the flag – I don't think I can keep it anymore."
The words echoed in her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. Jack looked at her with concern, but she didn't notice, caught up in the wave of emotion that assaulted her.
"Run into the forest, and don't look back!"
Her parents had shouted to her, her mother pressing a quick kiss onto her forehead, branding the words "I love you" against her skin before pushing her into the cover of the trees while they took up arms.
"Take Kuro Usagi and go!"
Izayoi had shouted, impaled on the demon's claws and still sparing a thought for her.
Her teeth ground together harshly. Please, she begged, as she did when Ouroborous started their wicked game earlier that evening. Please.
She could still feel the sensation of blood spraying across her face, the warm liquid akin to a sword driven through her heart when her vision cleared enough for her to see the person standing before her.
Izayoi had always saved her – against Pest's death winds, against the circus ring master*, against His Highness when she was struck down by him. Time and again, he always saved her, always pulled her out of the way in the nick of time. She was meant to be a Highborn of the Little Garden, the most powerful of her kind with the number of Gifts she had been bestowed with. Her powers meant that her senses were meant to be heightened to the point where it should have been impossible to sneak up on her, and yet, she always found herself being ambushed, escaping only because he intervened and pulled her out of danger.
No matter how much he snarked and sassed her, no matter how many times he made perverted comments about her with Shiroyasha, no matter how he made her blood boil whenever she caught him destroying yet another town – he still cared enough to save her.
She had been a child back then, unable to process the horror of that night, hidden much as she was in Canaria-sama's arms, her view of the carnage dealt by the demons blocked by those strong yet gentle arms.
This time, the sight had been branded into her mind. Forever.
Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel the blood splash across her face, could see Izayoi's back – normally so straight, so strong – hunched over, three claws protruding through the dark jacket he always wore. She could see the pained grimace on his face as he turned to look at her, the agony in those violet eyes as he clutched the limb buried in his abdomen, holding the demon in place. She could hear the sickening crunch of bone as his fist shattered against the demon's skull, the hand bent at the wrong angles, rendering it useless.
She thought of how much pain he had to be in, and yet he still mustered up the energy to command Almathea to take her away.
Kuro Usagi felt her vision blur, hot tears spilling from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks.
"Sorry, about that promise to retrieve the flag – I don't think I can keep it anymore."
It couldn't be true. It wasn't real. Sakamaki Izayoi never gave up. The No Name community's number one problem child was vulgar, brutal and hedonistic, according to his own self-introduction. But he was also kind underneath that prickly exterior, and he was not one to give up before the battle had even started.
She knew that, and yet…
Kuro Usagi had experienced His Highness' own power back at the arena, had felt the devastating force of his punch that had cracked more than just her armour. Izayoi – the only person who could fight such an opponent head on – had already been exchanging blows with the demon alliance's leader for hours.
She felt another bout of tears well up in her eyes. Please let him be okay, she begged, take my powers, take my soul, I would give up anything if it meant –
There's something over there. Almathea said softly, her voice interrupting Kurousagi's thoughts.
The divine goat angled away from them, pursuing something only she could see. Jack followed after her wordlessly.
The first thing they registered was the amount of blood. The dark liquid was grotesquely splashed across most of the rubble, dripping loudly in the silence. Almathea leaned her head down, sniffing lightly at the viscous liquid – too dark to be human blood.
How is this possible...? she muttered, lifting her head to stare at what seemed like bits of flesh strewn all over the place. A human like him – really managed to defeat an ancient demon?
If there was one thing Kuro Usagi loved, it was the flabbergasted look on people's faces when they realize how badly they've underestimated the arrogant blond problem child of the No Name community. Now, even with the undeniable proof that Sakamaki Izayoi, No Name's biggest problem child, had once again done the unthinkable and killed the ancient demon that even the gods couldn't kill, she couldn't find it in herself to feel anything but dread.
Jack set her lightly on her feet, keeping a steadying hand on her when her knees wobbled. The group was staring at the disintegrated corpse – a powerful ancient demon reduced to blood and pieces of flesh. Following some instinct – perhaps a remnant of her power, engraved into her soul – she turned, slowly.
And understood what it meant to watch her world shatter.
One foot forward, she stepped closer, her body moving on its own, her mind nothing but a blank white canvas. Behind her, she heard a stifled gasp and the sound of someone dropping to their knees. But she couldn't find it in herself to care.
He was leaning against a stray piece of debris, sitting upright, with his legs splayed out in that careless way of his. His head was tilted downwards, chin resting against his chest, the long strands of his hair falling over and covering his face. If it weren't for the crimson smear staining the debris behind him, or the puddle under him, he would have simply looked asleep.
Between one blink and the next, she found herself in front of him, her knee high socks soaked with blood (his blood –). With a trembling hand, she reached out slowly, the tips of her finger brushing against his scarlet dyed hair – the blond locks she had come to grow fond of unrecognizable under the crimson stain.
A sob tore itself from her throat.
As if the floodgates had been broken, the tears came then, and she placed both hands on his cheeks – cold, they were so cold - tilting his head far up enough for her to see glassy violet eyes that should have been vibrant with life –
She pulled him towards her, curling over the icy cold body in her arms. His head was on her chest, and she sobbed even harder for the perverted comment that never came.
There was someone muttering apologies, and with a start, she realized that that person was her.
"I'm sorry." She cried, clutching his body even tighter, choking and gasping. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry –"
"Kuro Usagi-san…"
"I'll let you do whatever you want," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, hand wrapping around his head and his shoulders, "I'll be your servant for the rest of my life so please –"
Kuro Usagi felt every broken bone, every gaping hole in his body, she felt how battered this body was, ripped and torn apart by a demon he should never have faced – a responsibility that was never his to uphold. The warmth of his blood splattering across her face was carved into her soul. The image of his face – pained and yet smiling, burned into her eyes. She remembered the fear that overtook her body when the dragon emerged, the fear that locked her muscles and froze her where she sat. She remembered with horrifying clarity the sickening squelch and snap of bone as Izayoi jumped between her and the killing blow, the gasp of pain he couldn't hide when the claws pierced through him, sealing his fate.
"Sorry, about that promise to retrieve our flag - I don't think I can keep it."
He was dead – and it was all her fault.
Kuro Usagi bent over and screamed.