"You see, the thing is, Hibiyomi only wants to help," Madasora began to explain before explaining his past. Confused gestures fluttered like brazen wings all around, an ashy, unorganized jumble of interior. Soft murmurs of doubt grew, blossomed with their tiny, gossipy petals blooming into sinful color. "He goes way too far, but that's because he wants to make sure that nothing ever happens like what happened to him before again." Soil grew cold; sunlight dark. Source of life for the whispered flowers were now dead and buried underneath the undergrowth to rot and decompose in their once recollected beauty. Now that their lives had been put to an end so quickly, there wasn't much to say, really, no tears of past childhood to shed, no regret for unmade sins and disillusions uncreated. There was no life to grieve for, no time long enough to mourn.
Then quickly, just as these flowers withered away into the dry, barren opportunities that lacked moist and texture, they listened, listened quietly with their quivering ears against the wind, paid attention – for they had no choice to whether they liked it – or not.
Lonely was this day. The pale, distant sunlight paid its respects for the dead night's funeral. It surrendered itself to high suspenseful mists, a serpent's mystifying pupil in the socket of clouds, a roar of sunrise from far away, sharp teeth of morning dew glowering with invisible lust. Scales of ice cold temperatures cut the air and cracked it, a playful fingering of soft, newborn breezes against long, aging grass. All remained silent, sad, damp. Heat did not exist, not even in the innocent whites of the celestial halo that glared itself and eyed into the patched forests tightly sewn into the blanket of earth's crust.
Gates closed with a rusty clatter, a sealed good-bye. Lips shunned themselves, careful, not to be foolish enough to make any noise, not even a whisper, not even able to let out the vibration of one's steady, rocking heartbeat. Silence filled this early morning air, as if all sounds, all steps, all voices had been put out like heads of fire on burning brick buildings, finally extinguished by roaring beams of water. Not even the tiniest, most miniscule twitter of an innocent robin bird existed, the soft winds rustling, yet somehow not rustling at all, through the sifting bushes and trees. The forest was mute, a deep, thick mute that seemed too surreal, too dream-like. There came not even a crisp crunch of grass, not even a light wave of lake.
As if caught with the silent haze of a curious infant conceived by the forest itself, three sets of feet showed their prowess against the ground. Lightly they stepped, feather-like, they moved. Distorted fingers of shadow beneath shady bottoms of trees were slit by shards of light. Canopies erupted with a soft, soundless touch. Delicate wings of birds bristled by, solemnly, unnoticeably. Sound was indeed cemented over. "Hey," Madasora calmly murmured in Hibiyomi's direction. The team continued to move towards the shadows, meticulous of any slight movements; they would not let even the perished chirps of birds and helpless rustles of despaired branches leave their ears without heavy consideration. "Are you sure you're going to be all right for this search, Hibiyomi?" he asked sympathetically. The council had grown up in this place after all. This is the first visit back.
Hibiyomi closed his eyes, as if trying to deal with uneasiness in his heart, an unbalance in his mental capabilities. Shut eyes twitched themselves open, and then came the braying, deep yet whispered answer: "I'll be fine." Hanabikai followed the two, caution filling a steady balance of arms. Rustling of a brisk bush made the first noise of the early sunrise, made by a council's brushing of leg. Sweat drop strolled down in nervous tension. Madasora could tell Hibiyomi was half-lying.
Minutes – hours passed of nonstop searching, uninterrupted low steps on the even lower grass. Before they knew it, they were almost to the opposite exit of which they had entered. Everyone's tension had grown ten times larger, ten times more than itself. Scarce was the courage to even take a breath; sparse was the movement and clear-mindedness. The Swamp of Mystery began to chirp its eerie, enigmatic cries- chirps of a bird? Or chirps of death? Dark days rumbled from above, and now, swimming like three detective, paranoid fish in the murky, fresh cut sea, they ventured onward, walking, pacing, making sure that each one of them was just centimeters away. Centimeters away from another life form, another similarity; just in case. "We haven't found anything except plants for hours," Hanabikai whispered, making sure not to speak too loud. Madasora nodded, lips still sealed. Sealed for hours. Hibiyomi said, breathed nothing.
Then, suddenly – laughing. Laughter of amusement, as if someone had been having the best time of their life, yet having a dreadful one, too, a sick, twisted fun. Evil, devious cries continued and shook the canopies of murky trees. Heads turned in fifty directions, this way, that way, searching, watching, eyes widened, broadened horridly, shocked. Petrified faces filled with alert, and found nothing amongst the sea of lively green. Then, one pair caught them. "There," Madasora gulped. He did not point; he did not lift a finger. He just swallowed – swallowed hard so that the panic, the anxiety wouldn't return, wouldn't make a comeback. As if going against his wishes, his stomach pushed back up the knot of nervousness into his throat.
Among the shade of the trees was a figure, a figure whose face was covered in complete shadow, body revealed in the pale, bare sunlight. Features of the face showed, yet still, blanked by darkness. Dark, purplish robe was strewn over this person like a magician; a dark ebony emblem glowing with deep sin embedded onto the robe. The place over this person's heart on his robe twitched, as if something rumbled inside it. A rather suspicious crease was over it, a closed, thin line that shuddered, almost cold, lonely. The being sneered, a manly, careless yet silent scoff of murmured voice. "What?" he provoked in a calm, normal voice. The councils stayed alert, afraid that this person's voice would aware others in the swamp of their presence. Tense eyes beamed left to right, left to right, back and forth, over and over again until it had rotated five-forty degrees. "You took longer than I expected."
"Enough of that," Hanabikai whispered, rather loud. He gained his confidence. Eyes narrowed, hiding a shuddering, scared pupil. He swallowed hard, trying with his best efforts to allow his voice. "Where are you going?"
"That depends," the voice in shadow asked, masculine voice from darkness. "I'm going home; where are you going?" it snickered.
"I can't deal with this," Madasora shifted his feet quickly and narrowed his eyes. Arms spread out to a tiny scale; uprooted grass blades cradled the soft breeze into the air. In a flash, the council's appearance faded into speed. Agility rushed through the patches of grass, kicking away weak, crescent blades of innocence. With a slow dodge to the left, the silhouette missed the gust of wind. A strong breeze trickled on his cheeks, comforting. Brown hair wavered past behind him.
"Now, now," the voice asked as Madasora reappeared before the councils, eyes narrowed, confident. Hibiyomi prepared himself. "Let's not rush this," he insisted, smiling beneath that mask of shade. Taking out two thick, paper scrolls from velvet pockets, the figure held out both, one in each hand. They opened up by just a crack, long enough to see the two huge, kanji symbols scribbled on each of them. One bejeweled "Father Tiger," while the other, lighter colored one spoke, "Mother Hare." Displaying these two letters, Hibiyomi suddenly had a shock of surprise, excitement, an eerie amusement. What…? He asked himself. The two scrolls lingered their tails outward and poured themselves onto the ground with a certain automaticity, swerving into layered circle upon circle until they represented figures, whispering, wavering, sewing into dark, paper silhouettes. Both four-legged, one was smaller, tinier than the other.
Smile spread on the opponent shrouded in enigma, as well as other places on him, too. The papers folded themselves with a light, wind rustling them until they tightened – tightened into their own living organisms with their own functions. "No…" Hibiyomi muttered. "No way…it can't be." Confused faces flashed jumbled looks to Hibiyomi.
The folding stopped. The "Father Tiger" represented a tiger, obviously, with a human, flesh mask on it. It was ghostly with a type of astral wisp wrapped around it, a sickly grey-blue. It was cloaked in a dark coat, two bloodstained blades carried on its back; put crossing each other like two destinies clattered. The "Mother Hare," was a hare of course, and bound nothing but a tiny, black coat with dangling, tiny little spheres that were like earrings on the side of its body, ornaments on the white fur Christmas tree. No presents hid under it, though, a lonely tree this was with no children to covet it. Sparse covenant seemed to linger between the two, binding their souls together in a unison battle. The hare, too, held a human flesh mask. Both were covered with their respective gray auras, their distorted, wrinkly faces with fake, forgotten hair. One mask represented a male mask, the other a female. They grinned distortedly, frowning in their own longing despair. "No…!" Hibiyomi cried out, louder this time, yet not as loud.
"What's the matter, Hibiyomi?" the enigmatic voice rang, seeming to come from all directions possible. Hibiyomi took great glances at the two used to be scrolls, and not the opponent. He looked at them, watched them, sleuthed them of their presence, their faces, their horrid, distorted, recollecting faces! How much they resembled… something, something that he did not want to think about! The enemy really wasn't going to use them against him…was he? "Don't you recognize them?" Two confused faces chimed. "Your own parents?"
The words kept repeating in Hibiyomi's mind in a great, impulse pattern, a never-ending loop of words, letters, sentences that soon all became meaningless, meaningless without definition, without variation. They didn't seem real. They didn't sound real. To Hibiyomi, they weren't real. One more glance at the horrid flesh masks, the covers locked in dread, eyes crinkled horridly, frozen, a frozen accusing eyeing of eternity, locked, latched onto greater souls for power – power! The only purpose, power! They kept going on in a loop, a broken machine of music: Your own parents? Your own parents? Your own parents? Your own parents? Your own… Hibiyomi's eyes froze, shocked, no time for awe, no time for amazement, no time for bewilderment. He was lost in the trance of the past, and his teammates – they were filled with awe for him, for he could not fit all the emotions he carried in such a small little package known as his own body.
"That's right, It's the perfect weapon for you, isn't it, Hibiyomi-san?" the voice rang. More smiles. "Well, then… Go!" The two animals rattled, like rusted, metal puppets. Flesh masks moved, an eternal frown on their once innocent faces that had been lost along the way. The tiger jumped. The rabbit disappeared, faded. Hibiyomi remained, stuck.
"Hibiyomi!" Hanabikai and Madasora shouted in unison. They tried to get him awake, but he wouldn't answer. His body was released from all kinds of energy, all signs of life. He gave off nothing, no signs of being alive, of being human, or at least a council. "Hibiyomi!" they shouted once more from desperation. The two masked opponents neared. "Damn it!" Hanabikai turned his head to face the incoming tiger. Its shadow blocked the bare sunlight, and with that, a constantly darkening shadow fell onto his face – as he stood there, and watched.
A scream. A scream of awakening from Hibiyomi. Then, minutes later – blood.
Madasora looked solemn. He no longer wanted to talk about the incident; he stopped right before the great ending. Eyes surrounded him and pleaded his continuation, pleaded the permanence of this story. Madasora eyed his surroundings, one by one picking the begged messages of the Minors around him. He sighed, considering that all beings surrounding him were now commanding him to do so. "In the end, Hibiyomi had to kill his own parents after all." Begging, peasant faces and stares changed into shocked, disbelief faces. "That's why he cares about the new people he cares about. He doesn't want to lose them again; especially the way he lost his parents, so when someone gets hurt that he cares about, he gets all loose – crazy like a monkey on a banana slice that hasn't eaten in months."
"That's why…" Derek said, peering back into the field of battle. Everyone turned to him. He did not meet anyone's eyes. "He's going to win. As a child, my parents were the best fighters, and they showed no emotion; I could only follow their example and become strong. However, I always used to worry day and night. Eric is completely different from this. He hasn't been through enough. That's why he's going to lose this battle."
Solemn looks washed over people's faces. Walter stood, head bowed, eyes cross under their shady lids, arms folded in each other's warmth. "No," Walter suddenly protested, disagreed. Derek raised his head in surprise, and turned it, watching Walter's nothing but serious look pour on his face, his features, his everything. He had not spoken to any Minors for so long, so long avoiding contact, avoiding communication. What was his purpose for speaking now? "You're wrong. Eric has been through a lot," he began to explain. Derek listened very closely. "A lot more than you would think. I don't know all the details, but…" Walter stared out into the battle field to look at the teenage boy, fighting so hard. He kept blowing punch after punch, dodge after dodge. "He's been through something just as worse as I. Just having been through this makes him a purpose – makes him strong." Derek thought, putting it into consideration. Walter continued to watch the fight, then bowed his head down again, sighing, breathing fresh air.
"Kahibi Eric, huh?" Madasora repeated the boy's name, watching him confidently give determined blow after blow, hit after hit, block after block and dodge after dodge. Sweat of hard work covered him, blanketed him with proof, proof of his purpose – but Hibiyomi couldn't see that – and that's what he was working for now. "What an interesting character," Madasora went on. "He's the one all the councils have been talking about. Apparently, he's been the one hated by his childhood society for years. As a result, he trained himself to become physically and emotionally stronger. However, after his mother was killed…" Madasora's voice trailed off. Walter opened his eyes suddenly, as if receiving an electric shock. "Well, who knows what after that," Madasora didn't know what else. The Water Minor's eyes calmed.
So that's it… Walter thought in his mind, confined thoughts flowing everywhere in a sea of philosophy. He stared back into the battle, and everyone, having enough to listen to for the day, watched Eric, too, a whole new level of confidence and respect, and worship for this one teenager. He worked hard, not noticing them watching him, not even knowing, or caring if they realized his existence. Because he knew he'd prove it. He'd prove it himself, if he had to.
His feet and fists were set ablaze, constantly attacking, punching, thrusting, spinning at Hibiyomi. They all missed with expert dodges. Hibiyomi, deciding to put an end to the constant close-fighting, shouted: "Enough!" He took a deep breath and shot out a misty beam of pressurized shadows. It was like a dragon's heated breath and burst at Eric's feet. Eric jumped away just in time, cooling his hands and legs from the flames as white smoke hissed dangerously into the air. "I'm done playing around with you, Eric," Hibiyomi began. "From now on, it's no holding back."
"It should've been like that from the very start," Eric insisted with a confident smile, a narrow set of eyes. He fixed his fingerless gloves. "Even so, now I know all about your past." Eric jeered his eyes to the left corner, as if to peer towards the Minors section of the "audience."
Hibiyomi seemed surprised, then, his eyes calmed, normalizing themselves right after. Then, he eyed the Minors section, and found Madasora. The Wind Council laughed nervously, an animated sweat drop lingering at his temples, a broad, anxious smile of nervous habit spreading wide across half his face. Crinkled eyes gave way to lowered shoulders. Nervous chuckles spat from slits of teeth. Then, returning his stare, Hibiyomi muttered, "I see." "Well, then. Shall we begin?"
"Yeah," Eric said almost immediately. Tension washed away with a friendly and-or unfriendly competition. "Let's not waste anymore time," he suggested. "We both have a purpose to prove." Hibiyomi suddenly brought about a whole ground of shadows spread from his feet, layering the floor in a thin, blackish shade. They cried out, devilish, devious murmurs of hellish attempt. Eyes narrowed; energy focused.
Eric brought up his fists, smiling in readiness. Dirt marks and tired marks consumed his body, but he wouldn't let a simple worn out feeling wear him down. He never did. His fists began to hiss with white smoke, and then, soon, they were set on fire, blistering with orange, red, and yellow flames, cackling with an evil cry that was ready to work, ready to fight. "Kamisori no Akuma!" The same razors of shadows emerged from the ground again, slicing through the air like missiles, torpedoing horizontally towards the vertical sky that remained in secrecy and nonexistence.
Eric dodged them quickly, punching and burning a few into a diminished, weak state. Flips and turns and churns made his escape from many of them, and then, as the pattern continued, he slowly became worn out. The swift darting shadows caused a tedious obstacle in his path. Then, suddenly, Eric felt his leg resist moving. Stammering on his other foot, he looked to the one that refused mobility, and found that the shadow floor Hibiyomi had created before had grown, stretched to the teenager's feet and locked around his ankle. He couldn't move now. Eric waved his ablaze fists crazily through the air; they were not much of use now.
Then, realizing his position, he looked up frantically, eyes scrambling used-to-be organized thoughts like a morning egg breakfast. He took a sharp breath as he had no choice but to take the tens of hits that pummeled against his chest in a matter of few seconds. He was thrown off course, slammed against the next wall. Eric shouted, crying out from pain as one of the razors made a cut on his arm. It stunned him with crazy pain and anguish. The wound stung, and leaked out numbed blood. Many other cuts were made on him, that also stung like a million bee stings. This attack was from hell, it was! Blood dripped to the floor like tiny, first drops of rain as the boy fell to his knees and began coughing, breathing heavily. "I'll ask you once more," Hibiyomi gave a second chance, which he usually didn't. Eric was lucky, was he? "Have you come to yet? If not and you fail to forfeit, I really will kill you, Eric."
Eric didn't answer. He continued to breathe heavily, ignoring Hibiyomi. "Eric!" he cried out once more, demanding an answer. His voice was rigid, rigorous, merciless. Eric showed nothing; no signs of answer.
On all fours, Eric brought his hands back to the side of his bent legs as kneeled weakly in front of Hibiyomi. His head was bowed, his shoulders shrugging constantly from heavy breaths. "Go ahead…!" Eric demanded. Hibiyomi gave a shocked expression, a low mutter. The other councils and Minors did the same, all expression varying with their disbelief faces. "Kill me! Go ahead!!" he called out once more, begged. His heavy breathing rasped and continued, unable to pause, unable to stop, unable to take even a tiny, second's worth break. "If I can't prove that protecting the ones you care about is right, then go ahead! What's my worth?" he shouted angrily. "Go ahead! Do it! Kill me!!"