Darkness remained solemn, silent, watchful. It was afraid, just like any other natural thing in the room at the time. The caged bars of sleek, rough clean metal failed to move; they stayed in place, as if scared that if it moved, something horrible would happen. A low, despaired moan put shocks in the metallic spines of the cages. This soft, pained moan did not come from Kibahina; it came from something else – something similar to that one backup, yet not quite the same.
Shihou turned her head. A look of confusion tightened her face; her eyes blinked delicately. Her body froze, as if she were trapped in a border of time, a frame of frosty numbers. "Kanadou," she spoke in a soft, alert murmur. Vigilantly her voice came to the council; softly were the letters, each tongued perfectly into succession. "Did you hear something?" she asked, getting back up on her feet once again. Once again, the low, eerie moan echoed from the depths of the world of darkness. The two councils peered on, watching attentively for any movement, any suspicion they may catch. Nothing. Shihou's senses twitched on – rather quickly, swiftly, taking no chances. With a tiny, unneeded swallow of tongue and throat, she took a cautious step forward, their intervals far apart, yet growing shorter. Then, soon, Kanadou followed, followed her into the dark. And as they did, the cries went on – eerily, mindlessly, uselessly, as if asking them, begging them to come forward. Like a trance, they followed – with subconscious footsteps.
PoVS
Back in the deep, tense filled halls where the walls cracked and dented, Kasumi Walter's consciousness lingered around him, as if bullying him, danced around him horridly, mindlessly, as he seemed to have no notice, no heart or emotion to share. No movement of finger, of eyes – no blinking, perhaps not even breathing. He just sat, body parts sprawled on the floor like a jumble of jigsaw waiting, pleading to be put back, wishing to be in order, organized into perfection, a painless position, just like Walter had wished for his whole life. The shadows seemed to call to him, and like a doll, he followed. He blinked. Once. Twice. He was now back to reality; his stare had zoned off for much too long. His lungs began to work again, inhaling and exhaling, contracting and expanding. He began to feel the silent, soft rapping of heart, its light, quiet whispers the only thing that kept him knowing, knowing that he was alive. What he had just seen… what White Cloak had just made him seen – the pain of the world, the murder, the betrayal, the depression and purposeful accidents; they were all real – he knew that now. And now, eyes still widened as if stuck in a trance where he might as well be drooling, he picked himself up, shook himself out of it, yet still amazed, still affected and shocked from those flashing, seizure images of black and white noir. They seemed to flip like a layered comic book, corner after corner of a tiny speck of paper flipping and flapping like an eager bird's wing, a fluttering of feather only heard in the deepest depths of silence.
This boy was no longer quite normal – nor was he from the beginning of his life. However, now, not even his thinking was normal, his moving was normal. No, because now, there was no definition of normal. Not since he became a Minor – not since everything started, beginning from his father's murder. Mindlessly, he snapped himself out of his daze, got his mind working again. Inside, he no longer felt the same, but he denied the feeling. He denied it all. He began to walk, slowly at first, then speeding up, realizing that gravity allowed such speed. Then, he blinked once more, and his eyes – they became narrowed once again, mean, as if agitated, annoyed. They seemed full of turmoil inside, and vulnerability, flashing the weakness of his emotions. He breathed, yet it failed to remind him that he was human – a Minor. He seemed to send shivers down the spine of the darkest shadows, the strongest walls.
Wordlessly, mindlessly, he passed Shintenmaru, eyes narrowed in a sort of hate, grudge almost. The clicking of his own shoes were silenced, as if they, too, became scared of him, scared of his every action, every breath. The council, still on the floor, watched him as he left, watched with kneeled legs and a shell back. One half of his face was now stone, slowly taking its time to heal, slowly cracking back into a moist, soft skin. He could only breathe half as well anymore, and on top of this, he began to feel light-headed. Confused stares took minutes longer to comprehend that the person of whom he was watching was Walter. He managed to get one thought and one thought only from his mind, as if the Gods disallowed any further thinking, for it was poisonous – lies. Is everything repeating faster than we expected…? Shintenmaru thought as his mind went to sleep, slowly swaying away from his soul and dispatching into the missing link.
All this council could do now was watch, watch with frozen, broken feet and crooked, disabled legs – a clouded mind that told him such lies to keep him immobile, to keep him waiting, waiting for something even it didn't know. And so Shintenmaru continued to eye this – this boy, this boy who seemed much more important than he, much more important than a council, as this same boy turned the corner, and faded from sight.
PoVS
The light humming of a machinery filled the room with a monotone yet somehow harmonious tune. The zigzag lines were indecisive, not knowing which way was up, which was top or bottom, trying to tag each at the same time continuously as the steady beeping told it that time was running out. All eyes targeted Eric, all nervous biting of nails snapping towards him. Darkness and light shared this room, for Eric was this selfless, greedless. His solemn unmoving fingers and features reminded everyone just how great he was, just how powerful, not only in physical terms, but in emotional and mental terms as well. The monotone wires of silvery blue and darkish gray with their hints of translucency plugged into Eric, as if searching, intervening his body like devious snakes that wanted to leech him of good soul, his blood and life. His closed eyes remained unharmed, unaware, untroubled. His unconcerned lips had no use for talking, for they rested, rested from the shouting while his burnt hands slowly healed themselves with a certain unconscious automaticity. Slow breaths came in from his nose, came out without the live rising and falling of chest. They watched, hoping he was okay.
All was fine, like a temple of silence, of prayer, of godly respect. People did not move, did not even think to speak at the moment, or even move for that matter. Soon, their solemn, religious ritual of muteness ended, interrupted by a low creaking of door, a slow moaning of plaster.
All eyes, knowing that their saintly routine had been disrupted, looked to the door, almost angrily, hatefully. Eyes turned rather quickly, to see who had disturbed their biblical ceremony of gratitude, appreciation. A presence stepped in, rather slowly, apologetically, respectfully. Slowly, the door closed behind her, slowly came in Sound Minor Marissa. She grinned, sympathetically, and no longer was the anger present. "How is he doing?" she asked in a whisper, as if not to disturb the sequence of procedure. They nodded, as if that were to answer her question, a tiny, unenergetic nod.
"Not too bad," Minoa answered with a soft touch in voice. She had her hands folded over each other, in front of her, as if she had been paying respects. Marissa nodded back, and held something shiny, something tall and glamorous yet one of soft, humble glory in her two, delicate hands, folded them with grace. Hibiyomi stood at Minoa's side, and none seemed to mention, or notice the modest tower of star in the Minor's grasp. "He should be fully recovered in the next day."
"Next day, huh?" Hanabikai spoke, his boyish voice hard to keep quiet, calm. "It was amazing." Confused faces went to him, silently, notably. He kept his eyes on the Minor, a folded smile of pride on his face, his eyes glinting lightly in the mechanical light. "How he survived that attack, I mean. I'd expect much more wounds…but he stayed alive Amazing, this guy." Many nodded, some smiled.
"Sure is," Derek agreed. A disruption in the expected flow knocked everything off tempo. Suddenly, hurriedly, a presence stormed in, knocked the door over with a giant slam. The ruckus rang in everyone's ears, and everyone turned with mean, angry stares, as if the noise would wake Eric from his earned rest of unconsciousness. Hanabikai especially. Who would do such a thing, something so respectful? It was none other than Kanadou, who breathed heavily as if he had run a hundred miles non-stop. Sweat even came at his mask, that horrid, creepy mask even seeming tired in its own distortion. His chest rose and fell, as if for Eric's tire, and tried to speak, yet couldn't; he had dropped his voice along with his words along the way there – it had been such a rush that this was possible.
"Hanabikai!" he shouted, disrespectfully. People scowled, watched.
"Kanadou!" Hanabikai said, almost scornfully. "You look stressed; what's wrong?" he demanded immediately.
"It's the backups!" Kanadou said, voice choked, new. "Sametsuki is injured!" Confused faces as to what a backup was dazzled the room like decorations. Two other faces knew what they were however, and froze in shock, alert.
"What!" Hanabikai retorted rather quickly, swiftly, wasting no time. "Sametsuki-kun?" A face of fear, stress washed over him like nausea, a nausea that wouldn't give up. "This is bad," he muttered to himself, almost quietly. People no longer cared for the silence of the ritual – for that was something long gone now. Now, they just paid attention, hoping to gain enough information from the bare words they heard emerging from tense, fear-growing lips. Hanabikai seemed to appear deep in thought for bare seconds only, until he looked back and began to tell Kanadou what to do. "Quickly alert Shintenmaru. We have to treat Sametsuki immediately. Send someone to watch out after Tsukansu!"
"Yes!" Kanadou followed, as if orders from a colonel. With that word, he stormed out, knocked the door once more out of his way and ran with panicky, unorganized steps that shuffled across dark plaster. He was in a fury of sweat and agility; nothing could stop him because of his fear, because of his sparse security.
"You guys; stay here until we get back," Hanabikai informed the three Minors in the room, turning to them almost immediately after the Earth Council had left the room. Behind him, Minoa looked tense, a lock of discipline in her eyes. Teresa nodded on behalf of the Minors, and with that, they began to hurry off through the threshold of the door, quickly out in a flash of a second. "Don't move from here!" Hanabikai yelled as he ran, quickly moving.
"Be careful," Minoa said to the Minors as she began to head for the door. She nodded, carefully, disciplinarily. Teresa seemed confused. "And Teresa," Minoa said just before reaching the hallway. Teresa walked to the door, solemnly, slowly, taking her nervous indifferent time. Her delicate hand brushed over the dusty plaster and darkness. Her face stretched in worry, her own panic because she didn't even know what was going on. What was a backup? Why is everyone so panicky? Why are they sending someone to watch after Tsukansu? These same three thoughts repeated over and over in each Minor's mind in the room. "If Eric wakes up, don't tell him about anything," she instructed friendlily, and rushed out the door. Her presence was gone in the snap of a finger, a blink of an eye.
Seconds after Minoa had stormed out, Teresa scoffed and turned back to the Minors. They stared at her, confused, as if she were to explain to them what was going on, for Minoa had chosen her to keep a secretive job. "I couldn't tell him anything even if I wanted to," Teresa explained, dumbfounded with a comical, humorous face. Marissa sighed.
"They seem to look up to Hanabikai for advice a lot," Marissa pointed out, standing by the wooden nightstand as she held that glimmering piece of glass in her hands, remaining unnoticed. She brought a hand to brush her blonde hair behind her ear. She smiled, nervously.
"Yeah, I guess so. It sure looks like it," Teresa answered without looking at the Sound Minor. The mention of Hanabikai reminded her so much of Eric, and in effect, she looked to the boy, looked at his quiet, unconcerned face in the world, his whole spirit seeming away from reality, and in an awesome dream somewhere, a surreal dimension where he could rest for once, and not worry about the ones he loved. The ones he cared about – who never required giving anything back, selflessly.
PoVS
Eager minutes later, a loud thud of a knock took its toll on a wooden door. A head turned from within the deep darkness of the room. Shadows devoured most of the room in its darkness, disabling it. "Who…who is it!?" a scarce, breaking voice asked, nervous with tension, fear.
"It's Hyoumaru!" the voice called out from the door. It was muffled, choked. "Sametsuki-kun is-"
"I know!" the familiar voice cut off eagerly, as if it didn't feel like wasting time. The voice shook on in panic, petrified, a stony, screeching voice like a ghost, an afraid ghost not wanting to meet its demise. "That's why I'm…" the voice let itself trail off. The darkness hissed, evilly, as if casting a dark spell over and under the ceiling, filling the whole wide relaxing room with dark magic.
"I'm coming in!" Hyoumaru's scuffle answered quickly, eagerly now as well. His voice demanding, decisive. This was what the dweller was afraid of.
"No, wait!" the voice pleaded, begged. "Not yet! Don't come in yet! Just wait!" it went on to implore, loudly, demonically, voice horribly distorting in the last few words where it mumbled in a robotic tone, an inhuman voice.
Too late. The door slammed open, and light poured into the room from outside. The dark, tall figure of Hyoumaru provided shade for the entrance, a long triangle of light trapping his surfaced silhouette in a stretching of brightness. He stared into the room, and found the person he was looking for. "Holy crap… what have you -?"
Cut off; once again. "I told you to wait!" the fully demon voice roared, fully transformed, completely morphed into its deviance. It gave a loud, hungry growl – and jumped from the depths of dark, charged at Hyoumaru. It scowled as it opened its horrid mouth wide open, a beastly set of teeth just sopping with its own saliva. Tsukansu roared once more, and brought its mutated arm in the air, ready to swipe, nails becoming claws in just seconds. Hyoumaru scowled back, and sent a wave of cold, freezing mist to knock it back down to the floor.
"Calm down!" Hyoumaru demanded, like an army commander. He sneered. Tsukansu, reluctant, roared in defiance, fixed himself on the ground. Half his body was gone now – dispersed into a horrid mutation. A deep blue finned tail waved behind him, playing with the air. A long, sharp scale of a fin protruded from his back, his skin turning a horrible, corpse blue. His eyes smiled demonically, glinted like a silvery knife, his arms thinning and thinning to the bone and nails sharpening to a sharp, yellow set of claws. Saliva drooled from his mouth, monstrously as his murderous stare stared on, the mutation finishing. His brown hair was slowly diminishing to a dark blue fur, a wild head of hair behind him. He was on all fours, councils robes ripped apart, sleeves torn off and the torso as well. A long, sickening tongue wet with dribble emerged beastly from his cragged, sharp teeth, painted his lips all around, as if getting its appetite ready. Hyoumaru felt aware, prepared, yet afraid. He didn't want to harm Tsukansu in anyway – underneath that horrid, unsightly monster hid the real soul of his teammate – the real man he had grown up with. "Damn it," Hyoumaru murmured to himself, watching the monstrosity carefully as it prepared itself against the wall, many tables and chairs in their way just waiting to be destroyed – frozen or torn apart to bits and splinters. "It affected him this much all ready? I can't believe it."
At the sound of such a familiar voice, even at a low level like his, Tsukansu – or what used to be Tsukansu, roared angrily, despairingly, as if he was in pain. Then, the mutation drew its long, snake-like tongue back in, and growled, jumped for the door – for outside! In a flash, Hyoumaru closed the door and backed up against it, Tsukansu just inches away from him, drooling in a disgusting, nauseating dribble. He swallowed hard, smelled the fresh, uneasy odor of the sea, the stench of his breath so foul and bloodstained. It growled in the council's face. "Sorry, I can't let you out." Tsukansu didn't care; he roared all the same, growled like a lion, the beast he was. The transformation went on – the brown of his hair slowly became the dark, demon blue. However, his brown eyes were still there – still hints of humanity, of mortality.
With that, Tsukansu swiped at Hyoumaru's head; the council ducked to dodge. Seeing a chance, the council kicked his teammate in the chest, and sent him flying to a table. His body crashed into it, shuddered the chairs beneath it. A horrid shriek of creature moaned through the walls, the darkness that seemed to slowly back away, they, too, scared. An icy bead of anxious perspiration and panicky sweat began to form at Hyoumaru's side of his face. He swallowed hard, indecisive of what to do. He couldn't hurt Tsukansu, but he couldn't let himself get torn apart, either. "I don't want to hurt you, Tsukansu," he spoke his partner's name. A mythical roar answered him. One had to wonder if the boy Tsukansu used to be was really still there.
PoVS
Shihou looked over the wound of the creature, still in that same room, watching the Sametsuki very carefully as it breathed, its body slowly rising and falling. The stench of salt water wafted to her, and nauseously, she ignored it. Her eyes trailed over its weak, wet body, and found many things wrong with it – which was not good news. An answer to her prayers, a knock found its way to the door. "Hurry, come in!" she pleaded. The door opened, and many presences rushed in like a crowd of jumpy teenagers. "I need a while to figure out what kind of wound this is," she informed the crowd behind her, watching over her shoulder and onto Sametsuki's cut on its body.
"But how did he get injured?" an eager, dumbfounded voice asked behind her. It was definitely Madasora. He always had been the slow one, acting all cool and smart in front of the Minors. "I mean, who would do such a thing, who could have such easy access?"
"It was White Cloak," a quick answer came dully from hard, stony lips. Many gasped, and turned to Shintenmaru.
"White Cloak?! Why would you say -" Kakori scolded.
Shintenmaru took his chance and interrupted his teammate. "He came back, all right?! Can't you see that!? Look at my face! It won't heal for years, don't you see? Why else would I do it? To commit suicide? White Cloak came back and you know exactly why he would, too!" He pointed to his horrid distortion of stone. Half his face was solid gray, lifeless. It nauseated some, and others began to feel guilty, sympathy.
"You're right, Shintenmaru," the words of Hanabikai spoke. "And he's still out there…somewhere. But, at least his goals do not involve harming the Inner World," he pointed out.
"Yes," an agreement from Dirondo said, her voice delicate, angelic. "But he will in order to get what he wants." Hanabikai nodded his head. He all ready knew that – and things were about to get intense again. Just when they thought this day was over. "We have to be careful," Dirondo went on. "This could be the end of everything – nothing's safe anymore." Everyone in the room nodded, agreed. From now on, hearts would be constantly beating much too hard, much too fast – in fact, pounding against ribcages. Just because of something that happened in a matter of minutes, hours, in fact. Very few hours at that.