Eric continued to run, a determination permeable pedaling his feet and reeling the looped chains of his ankles faster and faster, heart pouncing like angry claws of a tiger tantrum against his ribcage, pumping an angry, piercing confidence. His shoes clicked, clattered against the plaster ground, as if a pair of timid, coy teeth chattering, snapping crazily in open-close frenzy. He reeled his elbow back, a now flameless torch charging with not a fire outside, but a brushfire blaze inside – one of hot, sizzling anger, a hissing, blistering way to burn. Sweat poured from his body, tired, dust marks caking him, clinging to him as if dragging him down with their nonexistent weight.
Hibiyomi shifted his feet in the darkness. He waited, prepared. Narrowing his eyes, he meticulously began to strategize. Right now, he's focused on defeating me, he thought. He won't notice an attack from behind; especially his own shadow. Spreading his arms out on the side, Hibiyomi commanded with his full will, not a sediment of regret inside his flowing stream of life. Eric ran, eyes pulsing with determination, legs shuffling against each other in bravery. Then, quickly and oh, so suddenly, he was knocked down, a sudden flash. His head was knocked to the left, his body was flung away. His feet stopped running. His punch's direct charge stopped. Eric slid on the floor, taking the pain and making it nothing again, staring hard at where it had come from. Nothing was there; only dragged dust and darkness remained at his sight. The question everyone who was watching was asking was the same question inside Eric's mind, pulsing with a tedious enthusiasm, blustering with permanence in and out of his ears.
Everyone leaned in closer, as if their eyesight had suddenly blurred, gone bad. Eric, wiping his mouth and still caught up in awe, watched the position where he was hit, and only one thing remained there, only one thing to be suspicious about – his own shadow. It had disconnected from him, as if it had disbanded from its feet, a missing, nonexistent figure standing before light to create it. A perfect face, perfect, broad shoulders, a perfect stance – it all lead to Eric's replicated figure. People, seeing this, gasped, shocked, others were not. Others had seen this trick before. This trick of disconnected relation, something you could really call your own, something you could really have stick with you – gone, strewn away by a gust of devilish wind. And now, this devilish wind turned the relationship against him, the shadow rising from the floor slowly, taking itself and moving upward above the ground as if it were being peeled back up. Ebony head and body began to form, broad, stretched shoulders and dark biceps, a darkness pair of legs, feet – hands. Invisible, hidden eyes glared as its new owner stood up tall, strong, ready.
Eric, eyes shuddering in shock, began to mutter bare words from his dry, strained lips. "W-What?" he asked himself confused. He wanted to look backward, wanting to look for his own shadow that should've been behind him – but he couldn't. He couldn't take his eyes off of this – this masterpiece of shadowy sculpt, this cloned replica of him that appeared from a deep nowhere, the greatest depths of nonexistence. However, he did feel something was missing – something part of him was gone. He didn't feel… complete; it was as if something inside his soul had been stripped away from him and hidden away in secrecy.
"If you're so confident, Eric, then I shall show you something just as confident as you – and at the same time, bringing you down," Hibiyomi muttered in confidence, spreading his arms away from each other as far as he could, as if their distance controlled the capabilities of the shadow. The now mobile silhouette was free to work on its own – no longer imitating, copying the moves of someone else. It no longer needed to be a blatant act of mimicry, discontinuing the fact that it had to be an impression of one other than itself. Now, the puppet strings were sliced, and its limbs – they felt so fresh, so free, so liberated; its eyes – they felt amazed, awed, able to move their brows as they wished. Eric, now scared of what he had controlled for so long, shuddered, unable to move, yet confidence still burned in his eyes. He wouldn't let a shadow get in his way. He wouldn't, he repeated in his mind in a slow, convincing chant. He wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't. The shadow, stumbling in its first few seconds of mobility, fixed its stance unevenly. Eric got up on his feet, eyes unable to keep away from the copy of him – something so close to him now forced against him.
"No way," he muttered softly, words whistling in a whisper so bare you could almost hear the tiny pronunciations, miniscule breath of the "o"'s. Hibiyomi said nothing. Silence filled the room, yet a pulsing message kept Eric's ears busy. Shifting his feet and weight together, Eric awoke himself from the mesmerizing trance of his now solid shadow, who still, somehow in someway imitated him, not knowing anything else but that. He calmed his heart, which weakly enraged itself in frenzy, crazily shooting at his body, his ribs, his chest. Eric took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Opening his eyes quickly in a flash, he sent out a burst of red flame, a one-shot only offense.
The shadow imitated once again, as if it had no idea how to act on its own, needing directions for its own will. It breathed in a breath, too, and shot out a burst of fire – however, simply put, this fire was not set a blaze red like Eric's. No, this fire – it was, dark, dark with a demonic touch to it, a black shot of flame that collided with the red. Spark and dark blistered against each other, burst into a cloud of smoke dividing the two sides. A long rumble shook the walls of the room. Heated tension, worry rose. Eric would not let something so simple stop him. He'd take out his own shadow – if he had to; but he really didn't expect anyone to die in this fight.
Everyone watched as Eric ran into the cloud of smoke, as if he could hide himself. Hibiyomi solemnly mocked his efforts inside his mind, mentally. The shadow, waiting, watched closely at the cloud of smoke. Then, zooming from the front, Eric came out, and reeled a punch forward. The shadow dodged, and Eric, keeping punches thrusting upward from below, took small breathing breaks in between every punch, each one lasting about a second. Hibiyomi thought in success. It's working, he told himself. He's not fighting as confidently anymore; it seems he's having a struggle. Perfect, he gave his own gratitude to his mind.
Hanabikai watched his constant slow and powerless uppercuts. Eric… why is he punching so…? Suspicion lingered in his eyes. Brows leaned toward each other, trying to meet in great wonder, piqued curiosity rising beneath them. Eric continued with the punches, and during one of those short breaks he took, the shadow found its opening, and went for it. A dark, ebony punch made its way to Eric's chin, and so hard it was hit, being that it was one similar to Eric's, the real boy coughed out a streak of blood into the air. The teenage boy was sent towards the ceiling, wiping his mouth in midair. The redness smeared onto his forearm as he shot his glare down. He met eyes with his shadow, stare of betrayal meeting him. Out of similar detestation, Eric breathed in a long, deep breath. Unseen eyes of the shadow widened; its legs seemed to be unable to move now. Then, something clicked in Hanabikai's mind. No way…! So that's it! He would have snapped his fingers if he had remembered.
"Maina Ka: -Minor Flames-" Eric began. Hanabikai's eyes widened in anticipation of thought. He took an exciting, emotion-jerking breath. Eric ground his teeth for a second, preparing, gritting, holding, sparking. "Ryu Manako! –Dragon Eye-" Separating his rows of teeth, he spit out a huge, rolling sphere of flame that glowed with a bright, orange sun. It filled the whole room with bright, luminous light, its luminary body blistering with low heat, yet intense, burning light. The orange-yellow ball came closer, as if a million times bigger than Eric's own body. Then, it crashed; it exploded onto the ground as the shadow faded away into nothing. The flames turned into a wide brushfire on the ground, crackling, whispering away sediments and rocks, shooting between them like a decomposer of non-living things, if possible. The fourth indent of this battle was made.
I get it now! Hanabikai noticed. So he purposely pretended he was weak and kept making weak uppercut attacks so he would give multiple chances for the shadow to strike him with an uppercut. When he finally did get hit, it sent him flying above the ground, which ensured that he would not get damaged by his own attack, and a very good position for a fire attack because you don't have to worry about the space limitations put on by the horizontal surface beneath you. On top of that, he used Dragon's Eye, an attack of the Fire Element that gives off more light that heat. It never expected Eric to know how to do such a thing, Hanabikai thought. He must've really practiced a lot for the past three days if he can control the heat and light contents of the fire of which he breathes. Hanabikai was proud of him. He's brave, too, sacrificing himself like that just to get high enough in the air. Normal jumping couldn't manage that height. He remembered the image of Eric getting punched by, technically, himself, as he sent a stream of blood into the air and winced from the pain. That must've hurt a lot, considering the shadow actually had Eric's equal physical strength, and since Eric had worked on his body most of his life – almost.
The orange, yellow flames hissed away quickly, diminishing into nothing but white smoke hiding underneath cragged, spread out plaster rocks. Eric slowly fell back to the floor, landing on his feet easily. He recoiled on the ground, and then slowly brought himself back up. White heat fogged around him. The confidence went back to his eyes. It had never been worn down in the first place. Hibiyomi needed a new trick. He closed his eyes, accepting his bravery for what it really was. But he wasn't going to give up this fight yet. "Why, Eric?" he asked with blinded eyes. "Why do you work so hard just to prove your point?"
"The same reason you do," Eric answered after a short, minimal pause. His stance was prepared from shifting feet and fixing weight, just in case. He held out one arm in preparation. Hibiyomi opened his eyes in a flash, as if he had just been shocked. That was, in fact, the first time he showed emotion from his eyes in a long time. "Because I've lived through mistakes," Eric went on. "…and I believe my reason is right." Hibiyomi was caught, speechless. What was wrong? Was he letting go of his purpose. No! Hibiyomi denied in his mind. "So now, let's see which one of us has the better insight," Eric declared resumed battle.
The Shadow Council stared, wiped away all emotion from his features. He relaxed his shoulders in their tensed sockets, and sneered. "Is it not obvious all ready?" Hibiyomi said, and with that, in the next second, he was off. He met Eric quickly at the indenture on the ground and began kicking, punching each other wildly. Eric charged a punch – blocked by a kick. Hibiyomi tried a low kick – missed by a jump kick's attempt, which was soon stopped by backing up. Then, charging another punch, Eric was caught up in Hibiyomi's grip again. With a third spin, Eric was crashed into another wall. Fifth indent in the battle. Smoke hissed away rather quickly, as if wanting the swiftest escape. Hibiyomi appeared before the teenager before he could move a finger. He had his dark, shadowy hands at the boy's throat. He couldn't move.
The hall of where the Minors were located was right next to the scene, and how lucky they were to get such good seats! Dark, ebony fingers wrapped tighter and tighter, slowly and surely, as if restraining themselves from the throttling of an eighteen year old boy that just wanted to protect the ones he loved. Damn it! Eric thought in his mind, unable to do anything. His brave arms were brought to Hibiyomi's one hand, and even then, with his physical strength, he couldn't pry them off of him. The more he resisted, the more the hand closed in, so he eventually gave up. One eye winced; the other eye stared, as if hoping, wishing Hibiyomi would go away, willing to stay alert just in case a miraculous event occurred and he didn't want to miss out on it. Zack leaned outward from the threshold of the hallway and began to yell indistinctively. "Eric! What're you doing just standing there! Do something!" he cried idiotically, as if it were that simple.
"Eric! Don't give up that easily!" Daniel begged. Kenneth, behind his brother, seemed surprised. Daniel was never the one to shout, nor was he the one to call out during fights like this. Had he really changed all that much from scared little boy to a mature, intelligent, braver fourteen year old boy? He was, of course, the youngest Minor – but he was the smartest, and one of the most mature.
Eric turned to see their faces, body inside a huge, circular denture. He said simply nothing with his eyes, and that shunned their words. Then, he turned back, weak, to Hibiyomi, who ignored cries of confidence, of pep talk, cheerleading, he called it in his mind. How pointless. "Eric…" Hibiyomi whispered into Eric's ear, leaning in closer to the boy's face. Eric's eyes did not shudder in fear; they did not cry and tear for forgiveness and mercy. They just waited, glared, fearless, brave. "You, as well as the other Minors saw the Swamp of Mystery as a place of death, a place to be feared," he simply stated. Eric wondered why he was bringing this about now. Was this really the time to be conversing about this? "But… to me, for the first decade and some of my life, I called that place comfortable – I called it my home!" He narrowed his eyes. He brought Eric away from the wall in surprise and pummeled him back into the crack, widening and deepening it.
"What!?" Zack just had to call out. "You're just spitting out crap now!" he protested angrily, facial features comical. Many Minors tried to calm him. He did not listen. He continued to shout. "Eric, don't just listen to this crazy psycho! Get up! Beat him down!" Zack continued to scream in a shrill cry. "Do it!!" he went on.
Hibiyomi scoffed at Zack's efforts. Reeling in his other hand for a punch, Hibiyomi carefully aimed for Eric's face. He didn't notice he had loosened his grip around his neck. Then, thrusting his fist towards the boy's face, Hibiyomi missed due to Eric's quick thinking and dodging. Hibiyomi's eyes widened, shocked. He couldn't help but show emotion there. Eric moved away from Hibiyomi's throttle grasp, and ran swiftly behind the council. Surprised shocks went all around. Eric took a few deep breaths, stopped. "You underestimate me," Eric cried out. "You loosened your grip. You're going too easy on me, Hibiyomi." The Fire Minor flashed a confident smile, as if he and the council were friends. That one smile – it made more smiles spread across the people of who were watching; everyone believed in him now.
"Is that so?" the council asked, pulling his blackened fist as if it had been deeply charred back to his side. Rocks rumbled outward as he did so, and clinked as they reached the ground in a pebbled hail. "In that case, I shall be more serious with you!" he called out, angry. He sneered. Eric sneered back. Hibiyomi thought carefully in his mind. I'm done playing around with him, he told himself. Time to seal his links like I planned. Eyes narrowed in plot. Now, if I remember correctly, there should be one at his stomach, throat, hands, mouth. I know the perfect plan to do it, too. With that last thought, Hibiyomi soared into the air and came back down towards Eric's spot, charging a deep punch into the ground. Eric jumped away just in time to stare in awe at the deep denture Hibiyomi's impact had made into the ground. The sixth indent in the battle.
Amazing, Eric thought, eyes still staring in brave admiration. Hibiyomi jerked his hand back from the ground, making it rumble, somewhat. Rocks fell out as he pulled back, and stood up straight. He narrowed his eyes at Eric into hateful, blatant slits.
As the Minors watched the fight continue, few sounds went on. Then, suddenly, as if a cry for vibration, shoes clicked closer behind them. They seemed to march toward them, and quickly, the footsteps turned heads. Zack, especially; yet still not Walter, for he had not opened his eyes. It was like he was asleep during the whole battle; however, he really was not. The truth was, he was listening. He knew what was going on by just that. This is how skilled he was. Turning, they found Madasora slowly walking casually towards them as rumbling punches shook the hall with a greedy vibe. "Madasora-sama?" Zack had to be the first one to speak.
A crooked smile and the twittering bird neared the nine Minors, three missing. "Hey," he greeted them. The bird chirped, jubilantly. Other eyes stared, silent.
"What're you doing here?" Zack asked, eyes folded into a blank, round curiosity.
"What? I can't visit?" Madasora asked, his crooked, bent grin growing larger, as if spread more. Zack blinked, not knowing what to say, or, better yet, feeling that what he wanted to say was inappropriate.
"Fine, then," Zack muttered, half-closing his eyes unhappily. He pouted his cheeks immaturely. "Just let me ask you one thing," he asked, as if asking for a password. Madasora's eyes blinked open, and asked the question with his innocent, childish stare. Others watched, one listened.
"What?" he continued to blink. The pure, sinless bird chirped with injustice in its song. Its wings danced about, fluttering angelic, celestial feathers around in a spread curtain of stainless maneuver. Tiny, skinny little feet danced about, taking turns to stance themselves on his shoulder. The dance amused Madasora, tickled him almost.
"It's just that… um…" Zack moved his eyes to the right. He avoided eye contact, and was kind of nervous to ask what was on everyone else's mind. He sensed the impatience in Madasora's mind. He was used to it by now. "Okay," he said tensely, loudly. "What did Hibiyomi mean when he said when he saw the Swamp of Mystery as his home?" Zack smiled nervously, tensely, eyes closed in a childish manner as he scratched the back of his head lightly in habit. A giant sweat drop of tension grew, animated on the side of his face. His broad smile wouldn't seem to stop. When, Madasora just stared and didn't answer for quite a long while, Zack answered himself. "Oh, forget it," he said anxiously. He waved his hands in front of him in a "forget it" motion, another habit. "I know why, I know why. It's just as I said before, isn't it?" People stared to him, carefully listening, wanting to know. "He was talking gibberish!"
"You're really trying to get me to take your word for that, breezy idiot?" Derek came out from nowhere with Derek's new nickname for Zack, muttering his words loudly and putting an end to Zack's anxiety. The brown-haired boy began to fume. The black-haired one didn't seem to care. Then, he peered his eyes toward Madasora, a happy, smiling face beaming back. His eyes pleaded to tell the story, and Madasora, listening to Derek only, followed. Zack felt the depressive marks of animation pour down against him as he slouched his back. His face went comical. He wondered once again why he was always the one being picked on, ignored.
"No," Daniel accused Zack's answer of being wrong. "There's something more," he turned to the conversation. He faced the two Minors and council as the rest stared, one still silent and listening. The redhead boy, the youngest of the group stared with a hardcore emerald glare. "Something more we don't know." It's the same with Eric, too, Daniel thought, imagining his serious features, happy, smiling face.
"Daniel's right," Madasora admitted. "However, it's a long story." The bird continued to chirp at his right shoulder.
"Fine," Zack accepted, turning back to the fight. He heard the sound of missing impact and blows, blocking and hiding and contact. He saw nothing but darkness for a second. "It doesn't matter. Hibiyomi will get beat down, anyway," he muttered confidently, having faith in Eric even though he barely knew the guy. All he knew was that it was Minor vs. Council, and when it came down to it, Zack was a Minor, so he would root for the Minor fighting.
"No, you don't understand," Madasora said, calmly. Zack turned back around to blankly blink at them, bleakly staring in piqued curiosity. Madasora's features were tightened to a serious knot. "You see, Hibiyomi had a psychotic, crazy father who was locked up in the Swamp of Mystery," he began to explain. Everyone listened, closely, including Walter. He looked around for a second, watching all the faces staring at him, pleading at him to tell the rest of the story. He got straight to their eyed commands, and took a deep breath, continuing. "Even more than that, his mother was one who was down on the luck in terms of love. Everyone she found turned her down, because she kept making the wrong choices to trust boyfriends so easily on the first rendezvous. She finally got blinded enough to get married, and she really believed her husband loved her. Soon, she was pregnant, and soon, she blinded herself into thinking that she loved the man. Then, when the husband got psychotic…" He stopped to stare around the room once more. Then, he continued. People were paying closer attention more than ever. "He had to get locked in the Swamp of Mystery. His wife pleaded and begged and claimed that she couldn't live without them, so yeah; she got locked up, too. Eventually, she gave birth in that hellhole, and Hibiyomi had to spend most of his years in that place. Because of that, he was exposed to all the death, blood, hate, detestation, grudges at such an early age. He finally 'figured' out that to be strong, you had to show no weakness, no emotion because otherwise, you'd give away your feelings, your weakness. That's how he survived. He eventually got out as a teenager and left his parents behind by becoming one with a Free Spirit; his parents were crazy enough anyway. Why not leave them there?"
Madasora stopped. Everyone froze. No one even thought that Hibiyomi could have such a psychotic past. Wow, was the thought in everyone's mind. "And then, when Hibiyomi and I were and another council were sent on an investigation to the Swamp of Mystery…" Everyone leaned in closer, and then, quickly, Madasora began the flashback. The flashback to why Hibiyomi was the way he was today.