Shintenmaru walked, tensely, heavy-heartedly as he took his stance over the low, wooden table. Its clean surface was yet moldy with time, greasy with its positive relationship with the blackened hands of the clock. Its massive amount of whorls varying from all sizes decorated themselves upon the table, woody light brown whirling in their own contour lines, darkened with hate, spewing outward like a flood. He brought his hot hand and coy, tense fingers to his robe pockets, scrambling themselves in a web of peach confusion. They tangled within themselves as they removed a tiny, rolled up scroll from the pocket, and began to unwrap it, release it.
"Here," he muttered with the blatant death of darkness around him, its imminence of death creeping closer and closer, eroded by the light of no source. Shintenmaru rolled out the map showing a cragged maze of thin, labyrinth halls and walls, along with a cragged structure of black shadow, empty solid. Many exits spewed at the sides, representing doors, an escape not easily found. A large room remained in the middle, with many other rooms connecting to the maze's walls. Shintenmaru gulped, as if nervous, unsure of whether or not to show the Minors this map. Shitnenmaru pointed to keep himself from stalling as the Minors leaned in closer, and looked past his shoulder, now surrounding him into a tiny little corner of people, of souls destined for something greater.
A crusty finger skimmed itself over the map, playing with the soft, worn fabric of its immortal years. These same hands touched them at least a hundred years ago, a whole century, and it began to wonder why, why was its own good not passed to another generation? Why did these same, crispy, cooked fingers trace around it softly, gently, immortally? Why had they not deceased like the world had destined everyone else in the world, everyone else's fate when it came down to it? Eyes of the Minors watched and looked for characters on the map, anything to tell them how to read it. Nothing. Only the Council knew how to read the map, for it was written in a secret code, a code only they could see; only they could comprehend from their own memory and seal the fate of the explanation.
Shintenmaru cleared his throat, and finally began to explain; he had kept everyone waiting more than enough. "This is where White Cloak was," Shitnenmaru spoke with a jagged voice, running his anxious finger to the top of the map, and to a certain hall with nothing but L-like structures. It had been the hall Walter had been. Just touching that place on the map make Shintenmaru tense, his face still covered half in stone. The Minors wondered what was wrong with him, but being that he had the personality he held, they decided not to, and stayed out of trouble. It shook Shintenmaru's spirits in fact, just feeling the place on the map, breathing its air. It seemed cold, gave off a bad vibe that was purposely made to induce fear. Shintenmaru swallowed difficultly, the giant gulp no use to his sore throat. He forced himself to continue on. Memories of White Cloak would not help the situation, for he knew one thing and one thing only during his childhood: When you had a problem, you don't think about it and what happened in the past. You go ahead, and you fix it, fix whatever's wrong, because thinking about how bad it is will get you nowhere to solving it.
"The fastest way outside from where he left," Shintenmaru skimmed his dark, indecisive colored eyes over the gray, moldy map. He traced his fingers down a certain hall and to an exit that lead outside. "Would be here. We know for sure that he left this part of the dimension, since I would know if he were still here." Once again he cleared his throat for clarity. Once again he cleared his throat because of his anxiety. "Exiting this way, he couldn't have gone far. You guys will exit the same way and divide into four directions, a team per direction, sprouting outward." He paused to make sure the Minors were following along, even though such a thing could not be known unless told. He just felt like stopping, like he had to, like if he had talked for more than a second more than he did, the whole world would've exploded. Strange. "Assembly of teams will be decided now."
He gave a final low cough and rolled up the scrolled map back into its bent, circular position, and stuffed it back into his robe. He turned around to find the Minors closer to him than he realized it to be, and backed up a bit, taken by surprise. Tensely, he went on, as if nothing were wrong, as if nothing happened. "However, I'll need a few of you to stay here with the Council – us, unless you want to give up on the job now." He hoped, oh how he hoped they would deny the job now, after hearing the plan. No, he realized. They looked even more excited, even more ready and prepared. He just worried too much, just like Shihou had told him. But he couldn't help it. This was who he was, even if he didn't act like it. "Well, then, Dylan, Lance; I need you guys to stay," he called out to them, searching for their faces lost in the eleven-people crowd. It was like a wall, a whole audience to search from; faces lost upon faces, piled upon each other like a deposited drumlin of sediments. Lance and Dylan looked at each other, weirdly. Concern washed over their faces like it was a competition to see who had the more worry. Their stare lasted long. Too long.
"These will be the teams," Shintenmaru began, planning everything on the spot. He scanned the crowd before him, searching out faces to put together like it was a game of mix and match, mostly match. His eyes searched and searched, hoping to win the grand prize. It was a gamble this game, but he had the smarts to overcome it. "Daniel, Kenneth makes one," Shintenmaru decided, continuing his eternal sleuthing of faces. He sniffed them out carefully with his dotting eyes, his nonstop shaking of limited mobility coming carefully over the audience watching him. If he and the rest of the Council would not be going, then he had to plan the teams of Minors carefully out himself. It was the only thing he could be sure of. Yes, carefully he scanned, slowly his words came from his unsure, indifferent lips. "Derek, Mark…" He looked for a last member, a member to take the third slot. Derek crossed his fingers, inside his mind. "…and Zack will be the second team," Shitnenmaru concluded. Derek's finger-crossing failed wishes, for it was no shooting star. He sighed, slouched his back in loss.
"Damn it," Derek said depressively, his arms sliding off their sockets. "Why do I always get stuck with him?" he growled.
Zack snickered happily, as if not noticing Derek's disfavor. "All right!" he cried ecstatically.
Shintenmaru went on to complete the rest of the teams: "The next team will be Marissa and Rick," he muttered. Now there were only two people left to choose. Among the mob, a smile of victory flashed, a happy, secure feeling washing over a blonde female's face. "The last team will be Teresa and Walter."
"Wait!" Dylan stopped right there, certain sadness in his tone for his name had not been called, like he had been voted out of the Minors for good. That was the feeling he had. Some paranoia this kid had, some paranoia. "Why do we have to stay?" he asked gently, delicately. "I don't think Lance-san wants to be left out either. What makes us so special?"
The Council exchanged looks intensely with each other, tying them in a secure bond, as if what they were about to stay would blow them apart, words explosive and pyrotechnic as soon as they were released from lips, burning with intense hellish flare. "We need you to help us with something just as important," Shintenmaru explained after counseling who should be the one to tell them, nervously. Why was Shintenmaru always the one being voted to do everything? So tedious, this was. Dylan and Lance looked at each other, looked to the other Minors, and then looked to Shintenmaru. Dylan blinked unsightly, dazzled in his own confusion he himself created for his own mind. "Anyway," Shintenmaru went on, being careful not to reveal too much for the other Minors could not hear any information about Lance and Dylan's task. "Do you guys know what to do? If you find White Cloak, try to chase him out. But be prepared for battle; he's not the one to give up and run away without a fight first, especially when he thinks he has the upper hand over you guys."
"Yes!" Rick said voluntarily. A look of confidence washed over him, spread over his features and gave him the appearance as if he were made purely of determination, the only thing that was spewed from his wounds, carried in his sickly veins, filing his eyes and mouth, his DNA. Marissa, at his side as if for security, was not so sure, and bit her bottom lip suspiciously, tensely. She was careful not to rip the skin apart. Her eyes crinkled in certain panic, her arms tightly wrapping each other, hugging each other as if they were cold, freezing, in fact.
"Get going, then," Shintenmaru rushed them off. The sooner the better so I can get rid of this anxiety, Shitnenmaru thought to himself, nervously picking up his glasses more towards his face. The rectangular lenses shaded themselves in a certain, unidentified white light. With that word, the Minors rushed, some determinatively, some unsurely. Their footsteps clicked the ground powerfully as their eleven presences rushed out of the room, eaten by the threshold of the halls, gone now, taking a whole chunk of the group in the room away, and bringing them elsewhere, somewhere more… relevant.
As their footsteps faded away into the outside part of the dimension a certain character listened into their conversation, body sprawled against the wall for support, sitting almost as comfortably as one should be in the dark, head turned towards the threshold of the door, watching for anyone, watching for any suspicion. A large, tanned hand clutched the side of this person's body, as if it were shooting with severe pain, severe anguish. A squinted set of eyes peered to their side. Kahibi Eric decided that there was no more to hear, and picked himself up from the floor, careful not to make even the slightest noise. He knew how skilled the councils were. He was not naïve. He wouldn't fall f0r their unseen tricks. He began to walk, slowly, with satisfaction back to his room with his bare feet that dragged noiselessly across the ground, unknowably. You really thought I'd listen to your advices, guys, and stay in my room and do nothing? Eric thought in his mind as he slowly paced himself towards the darkness, smiling at the recollection of the other Minors and councils. He strained himself, dragged him across the hall, but he would make it in time. He always did.
"Okay," Shintenmaru breathed out tensely, going to the next thing having to be accomplished. Only two things to finish speaking of next. "Who's going to go get -" His voice was cut short, just as he wished it. All councils knew what he was talking about almost immediately. He was glad, relieved, in fact.
"I'll go," Tsukansu volunteered. Everyone turned to the Water Council as if he had been invisible all this time. Many eyes, unsure watched him get up from his resting seat and lift himself up in preparation. His clothes were torn, tired, his hair not quite perfect like it always had been. He was flustered all over, but had gained a new confidence. "I haven't contributed in a while," Tsukansu explained.
"Will you be all right?" Shintenmaru asked, unsure of whether or not he should let Tsukansu go on such an important mission. Would he get hurt? Would he be a threat to the people outside of the Inner World? He didn't know. Only Tsukansu8 could decide that – with his own free will, of course. It wasn't like he couldn't control it… unless…
"Yeah, I'm fine," Tsukansu insisted, walking towards the next hall. He turned to the rest of the Council as his clicking footsteps ended their first set of newfound paces, searched them for any volunteers that would go with him. His handsome eyes sparkled with innocence, like nothing had happened to him, like nothing had happened at all. It was hard to believe that just a few minutes ago, just a few, bare minutes ago, he had been half-shark, half man. "I'll need five others, though," Tsukansu suggested.
"I'll go," Minoa quickly volunteered. She got up on her feet, confidently narrowing her eyes and readying her fists, as if she were to fight and blow up the whole dimension. Shitnenmaru had to differ.
"No, you stay," Shintenmaru instructed. Minoa turned her head towards Shitnenmaru, shocked, as if she had not expected a debate on whether or not she would go. "We need you just in case something goes wrong with Dylan and Lance."
"Wrong…?" Dylan whispered nervously with innocent, childlike eyes into Lance's ear. Lance smiled crookedly, somewhat nervously, with his hands stuffed eagerly into their respective pockets, as if hiding away into secretion, into concealment to secrete themselves. The Metal Minor shrugged back, said nothing, thought nothing. His eyes winced with no force, no tension, but happily, an eerie, cheery gesture of eyes painted on his face. It was rather weird, rather strange. Shoulders dropped back coolly, carelessly.
Minoa sat back down obediently, figuring that Shintenmaru was right. Dylan brought himself into this whole big worry, and raved at he suspense, ranted in protest inside his mind as to not disrupt any focuses, for he was much too generous like this, much too nice. What had made him like this? Only time would tell. Wouldn't it? "I'll go," Kakori insisted. "You guys don't need me here," he explained. Soon, four others volunteered. These four councils stepped to Tsukansu's place right before the hall to prepare themselves for an important mission that they had in mind. Kakori, Tsukansu, Hyoumaru, Madasora, Raikettei, and Kanadou comprised this team. With one last nod of respect, they headed off, each with their own powerful set of steps, each with their own purpose in mind, one individual to contact, maybe even two for some of them, or even three, in fact. They soon disappeared, silhouettes swerving into the darkness and into apparition dark.
The last chunk of councils left would have to take care of Dylan and Lance, and the two Minors stared at the councils left, nervously, tensely, for only most of the strong people were left. Just what did they want from them? Dylan worried about this more than Lance. It was obvious. Lance just looked casual, sloth-like, as always. "Where are they going?" Lance said curiously.
"Nothing," Shintenmaru snapped, rather quickly with the answer. "It doesn't involve you," he scorned. "Come; let's go get to our business." Lance opened his eyes, blinked once, suspiciously. He looked to Shihou, who was still there, but couldn't quite figure out what was the purpose of these two Minors' presences. Dylan and Lance exchanged careful, suspenseful looks. Both gulped – hard. The council began to head off into a separate hallway. The Minors, forcing their own footsteps, followed, somewhat reluctantly.
Minutes later, they still found themselves walking in an eternity, walking and walking and walking forever, as if there was no end to the hall, for they had been going straight for what seemed like miles. The two Minors trailed behind the group of councils left, for they were the only ones who knew were going on – it seemed as if the teens couldn't know anything until they got to their destination, which seemed to take much more than enough. Feet were beginning to tire, and wear out, erode by the cold, suffocating darkness. The orange walls painted themselves of a fake shade of dark, a shadow of corners creeping outward into a blatant silhouette, the tight walls seeming to close in with the sparseness of air. They might as well have been in a desert.
"Shintenmaru," Minoa picked up her speed to the redhead Council to speak with her. She caught his attention, whether he wanted to follow along or not. They kept their pace; the woman had to try hard to keep up. Shitnenmaru was always so fast, so swift when he was nervous. He may have been one of the smartest people in the world, but when it came to nervousness, he gave the most blatant, obvious excuses and signs of it in history. "I'm worried, concerned, in fact," Minoa spoke softly, gently, as if the words were hard to form from her educated, matured lips. They were pinkish, cushiony, too.
"Concerned?" Shintenmaru spoke, as if the word were new to him, his voice anxious and cracking, obvious. "What do you mean? What're you saying?" he scrambled out with no grace, no organization at all, spewing the unplaced syllables out from his mouth in a string of confusion, a mound of dazzle he found himself in, and his words.
"About Walter and his team," Minoa said, trying to calm Shintenmaru down with a scolding, hardcore voice. She narrowed her eyes, meanly, as if threateningly. Her voice became cross, yet still somewhat worrisome about her concern, the thing on her back that just wouldn't peel or pry off. "Will he be all right with just one teammate?" she asked with a voice so tense yet so strong that it snapped Shintenmaru out of his own confusion, out of his own anxiety and brought him back to reality, where he belonged. Shintenmaru listened carefully now, watching the edges of the halls dim with darkness as they went on inside the hallway of infini8ty that reeked of nothing but blatant air. "Maybe you should've made him in the only three man group like Derek, Zack, and Mark," Minoa insisted.
"No," Shintenmaru quickly disagreed, voice now calm and centered, found and organized, classified. "He's fine. He's got Teresa," he explained. "She's the strongest element and can defend. Also, I've got a good feeling they'll need an available spot in their group," he said with certain suspicion. Minoa raised a brow in her own secret curiosity. She widened her eyes, thinking up of something yet not quite sure that it was it. It couldn't be – could it? She thought carefully in her mind, and still, after a suitable amount of time waiting, could not come up with an answer.
"Don't worry about Walter," Dylan said with certain nervous happiness. He smiled widely, unnaturally. He brought his arms casually behind his head as he walked. His white hair tickled his forearms. "He's awesome. He can defend himself – he's really independent."
Shintenmaru stopped in his tracks at that word, and halted everyone else from moving. Everyone stared at his back, all tense and silent, solemn and serious, and Dylan began to wonder what was wrong, changing the look on his face from happy to vulnerable, suppressed joy. Shintenmaru turned his head and gave a hard look into Dylan's eye, making sure that the boy knew he was about to tell the truth. "That's exactly what we're worried about," he spoke calmly, as calmly could get. Dylan blinked, unable to comprehend what Shitnenmaru was saying, a certain mystery behind his words indeed.
Minutes later, they arrived at a large, godly door, the door of all doors, big and wide and tall and mystic all at the same time. Its borders were eerie with mold, with dark, orange plaster and wood, a mixture of the two if that were ever possible. It seemed so heavy yet so fragile, so strong and important – relevant just because of its size. Dylan gulped, muscles tensing from just the sight of seeing something so great, so unbalanced with everything else in the dimension. Just one glance at it will tell you that there was nothing else in the Inner World like this. And everyone thought that the Inner World's halls and rooms were all the same, all the same size, material, and shape. Now, standing before the one thing unique in the dimension, the Minors seemed unable to feel themselves at home. Something about that door – about its threshold and shape wasn't right, even if it was shaped like everything else, just larger – much larger. It was a wall all on its own, tall and strong and denying, rejecting. Lanced looked to the right side of the door, and noticed a panel, a golden, clean panel on the handle of the door. A large keyhole sat below it, a wide mouth of hunger never satisfied, for it hadn't been fed for years. No keys dared ventured in there; they feared the keyhole, they feared the large puncture filled with darkness, filled with mystery and enigma and… and a sense of bloodlust.
Behold this door, great and majestic. What waited for them beyond it? What?