Daniel stood there, watching, waiting with narrowed, gleaming eyes, their meticulous glances never ending in the same old pattern. Each pupil was like its own careful sun, constantly scanning the beautiful sunlight vision over the trees, the grass, the air until the horizon came over. His arms were put out like a lonesome tree's branches, glimmering with those many invisible threads of life. They shot out from all over his body, these strings of pure life energy webbing itself in a mystifying trap that went through the whole forest, and bound themselves on every tree, every single branch. They zigzagged, as if not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do, the purpose of their life drained from their memory and recollections, empty shards of glass thoughts that told them nothing now.
The moon above scowled, deeply, meaningfully. It hid between the soft innocence of teal clouds, the fabric of a frothy night high in the sky, and put away into its own isolation. The moon was coy today, secretly watching from above under its cloudy coverlets that would soon trail away from it greedily, mindlessly. Takiato Daniel could do nothing, not even speak, for constantly he had to sleuth, and constantly he had to examine each and every object. The threads of the trap moved slightly, barely to let go a glimpse of their glowing light. The wires continue to glower in the night, fixing themselves into perfection, sewing themselves as an old woman do, when she had lost the purpose to her life, and she had nothing left to do.
Daniel's brother stood, stood at the highest tree's peak, watching the skies as if in boredom, in rest, for his own joy and comfort. No, just like Daniel, he had a task to complete as well. He, too, was observing the area, observing the skies for anything strange. The trees in the area were dead, leafless as if the hot, scowling breath of the upcoming fall had all ready brushed upon it, and made it limp, lifeless. The dead grass didn't help the life in the area, either, once they had been drawn with a thick, healthy green. Now they lay, heads bowed toward the floor in recognition, wanting to just lie down and have a rest that would last an eternity's worth of hibernation, now yellowish and gold but worth nothing, ancient, and ready to die.
"Have you found anything yet?" Kenneth spoke quietly, softly and carefully in a murmur only meant for Daniel, arms crossed in a balance to secure his non-falling. Kenneth's eyes seemed to wander away from task, trail from awareness and to the periwinkle delicacies above that danced about, slowly and gracefully in the sky with their own uncoordinated dance, choreographed by nature, which would make the most beautiful performance one could ever find. They would be more beautiful than the musicals of the busy, greedy city; more beautiful than the glimmering chandeliers of the fanciest restaurant with their accommodating silverware that seemed to smile happily with their perky little clinks against glass and plate.
"No," Daniel answered, voice somewhat deeper than it usually was, arms suspended in the air as if he was waiting, waiting for needles to inject him. He stared out, meanly, glaringly. "I don't sense anything in the thirty mile diameter," he informed as he fingered the air a while, playing with the glowering threads and showing bits of their presences in the faint moonlight. "Nothing from the sky?" he asked, piqued slightly from boredom in hopes, small hopes so he wouldn't be left disappointed.
"No," Kenneth said, somewhat smiling as he continued to watch the recitals of misty clouds above. He eyed every single spin and counted every pair of twirls and spins that amazed him beyond belief. "Just cold air," he added, uninterested. As if on cue, the ground seemed to shake microscopically around Kenneth, a tiny, miniscule magnitude that almost put Kenneth off the tree and towards the floor. He stammered, his stance faulting a bit as he frantically brought himself back to his standing norm. He exhaled sharply, trying to calm his pounding heart of exasperation. The cold air of the night seemed to keep him still now, seemed to hold him down to the tree that he so desperately kept on now, realizing the slim chance of him staying on and the enormous probability of him falling to a crumbling doom. He exhaled once more, just for his careful comfort, as if a large one would put him over the edge.
"What is it?" Daniel asked quickly, wasting no time as his eyes shot faster back and forth.
"Nothing," Kenneth answered. "I almost fell, that's it," he ensured Daniel, but had yet to ensure himself. He looked to the ground, perspiration growing from the side of his face, nervous anxiety pouring from him and trying to keep him balanced on that thin treetop. Strange, the blue haired Minor thought, keeping his eyes on the ground. I wasn't even moving at the least… how could I even almost fall? Now, as if to and to the small quake before, there was an even bigger one, right under Daniel's feet that almost caused him to fall on his back.
Daniel cried out in shock, and Kenneth tried hard to keep himself on top of the tree. The rumbling stopped. Daniel's heart almost stopped beating, but then…. A hand broke through the ground with an enormous puncture and tightly gripped around Daniel's ankle in surprise. Calling out once more, Daniel tried to pull away from the horridly discolored fist; it didn't work. Then, a whole body broke through the ground before him, a devious figure bringing in a punch right into Daniel's face. It seared with pain, sent him flying many feet away. Daniel pulled himself together in midair, and shot out life threads from his fingers to connect him with the ground to stop his flight. It had happened so suddenly, so quickly, it was unavoidable, this fake-out technique.
"Kenneth!" Daniel called out to his brother, making him alert o the current situation as he brought a wrist to the corner of his mouth to wipe. He stood among the ground like a four-legged beast, as if there had been no time to move and fix himself from the after fall, as if there was no time to stall preparation.
"Daniel!" his brother called back, noticing his brother's new position on the floor. The blue-haired boy jumped from the tree's peak and fell to the floor to his side. "What happened?" he pleaded, holding on of his younger brother's arms.
Daniel seemed to want to talk, but then, staring past his brother's shoulder, knew that there was no time for such a thing. "Watch out!" Daniel cried out, and with all his strength, threw his brother to the side as he let the opponent rush into his body. The new rival drove a blistering punch erupting Daniel's insides, falling upon his chest. Daniel's legs went up from the impact, and cried out a horrid yell of pain into the air. Kenneth watched, unable to do anything in such a short amount of time, and then quickly got up on his feet and got readied. The opponent laughed, cackled horridly like a witch did as she cast an evil spell, laughing at the most unsightly, twisted thing one could laugh at, the psychotic laugh of psychotic laughs.
"Get off him!" Kenneth shouted in a growing agony that would soon become a hatred later on. Kenneth reeled in a punch, but it was too slow; the enemy dodged away and punched himself right into the ground again, and slithered right into the deep, soiled ground once again, safe for the moment. It was hard to catch a glimpse of the enemy. So very hard. This wasn't White Cloak. This was someone else. But who? And why? Every time he arose from the ground, he appeared a discolored blur of speed until he reeled in a punch, and everything went white-hot. "Who are you?" Kenneth shouted, now at Daniel's side as his little brother tried to get back up on his feet, washing the pain away from inside using a mental image. "What do you want?" he cried out circling his eyes around the area for his own security, just in case.
"Who else?" the voice seemed to boom from all directions. Its deviant sound seemed sparse, undernourished. "You, of course. Boss told me to kill you if I'd like; I guess I'll do just that," it answered, snickering in its own secrecy that surrounded Kenneth in enigma. The Minor didn't know what to do. He just stared around, watching frantically at everything he could, for the enemy may pop up anywhere and anytime.
"Who are you working for!?" Kenneth called out from his own stupidity and cloudy mind. His mind wasn't working properly; he was asking blatant questions.
"Kenneth, stop it," Daniel muttered. "He's working for White Cloak; his level of power and mutation could only be achieved by him," he explained. "Plus, who else could invade this dimension and bring people in?" he added. Kenneth assumed he was right. It was all right to trust Daniel's words when he trusted you back. He wouldn't let anyone down with information he knew. Daniel leaned forward, uncomfortably.
"So, I see the redhead is the smarter one," the demonic voice cackled from below the ground. "Well then, let's see how naturally timid you are, then, too!"
"Kenneth, watch out," Daniel warned, still on the ground.
"Yeah," Kenneth answered, somewhat halfheartedly. "I got it."
The voice laughed, hearing in on their conversation, not knowing any privacy. "You shouldn't be the one telling him to watch his back!" it cried out enormously with the largest, booming voice ever heard. "Idiot!" it ridiculed. The enemy burst from the ground again and erupted more punches at Daniel. The first one hit with surprise, and sent him sliding against the ground.
"Daniel!" Kenneth called out in sympathy, leaning forward to help.
"Kenneth, stay back!" Daniel pleaded, still on the ground, trying to get back up on his feet before the enemy could manage another attack.
"Yes, Kenneth, stay back!" the enemy cackled evilly as he reeled in another punch, much too fast for Daniel to detect. But for Kenneth… it was a different story. The punch came in. A sound of impact. No pain went through Daniel's side of the face. A fist blocked, eagerly. It was Kenneth. Then, while the enemy was still shocked in his own surprise, Kenneth made a direct kick to the opponent's body, and sent him drilling another hole into the ground once again.
"You really thought I'd let you die that easily?" Kenneth said friendlily, bringing Daniel back up on his feet. Daniel, straining, tried to speak, but failed the first time. His arm was around Kenneth's shoulder, and together, they brought each other up. Daniel's face was all ready tired, showing heavy breaths being inhaled and exhaled constantly. The younger Minor tried to fix himself, dusting his clothes rather slowly, unsurely.
"Thanks," Daniel rasped, breathing hoarsely, trying to catch his breath once again.
"Aw… how cute," the voice came back, boomingly and mockingly. He arose from the hole, staying still, inside it like a shell. They could clearly see him now with brown, discolored skin and white, grayish hair. His teeth were shaped like fangs, like a beast, his eyes dark instead of white and his pupil a deep, evil yellow instead of an innocent bright color. He wore no clothes, but was a mermaid of the earth, but instead of half fish, he was half worm. He hissed at them in detestation, laughing at their pathetic beings. "You guys make me sick!" he shouted, a quick change of sarcasm and tone. He roared as his forehead began to shuffle unevenly, disgustingly until a third eye opened itself up, strangely, slowly and grimly. Kenneth found himself freaked out. Daniel had no time to be freaked out.
The opponent roared once again, the battle cry now turning into a screech of prowess, of showiness. The enemy hissed one more time and let out his tongue, split in two like a lizard's or snake's, hiss outward, and play the air with its pinkish finger. The dark eyes narrowed themselves threateningly. Another eye…? Daniel thought creepily. As if on cue to his thought, the opponent zoomed out from the hole and charged for them like a fast, fattened snake. Kenneth and Daniel dodged to the side just barely, missing the opponent's missile of a body. Then, just as they thought they had escaped the attack, the wormy tail of the opponent smacked Daniel as he left the air and dug into the ground once more. Daniel fixed his glasses; they had been somewhat knocked away. He cried out as he brushed his cheek, trying to comfort it back to its norm.
Daniel pulled away from Kenneth, knowing that it was better off if they didn't drag each other down and became two targets instead of one. He's too fast… damn it! Daniel thought as he ground his teeth tightly in hate. He clenched his fists, unable to think of a good plan because of the current situation. How do I do this? He begged of himself. How?! How do I do it!? No, Daniel told himself. Don't get scared, don't. Calm down… Daniel brought a fist holding a dagger of life energy and struck it right into his other hand. Blood squirted out, and sent pain flying through his own hand. He thought it would help him get over his fear, but it didn't. Daniel cried out in pain, agonized from his own stabbing.
The enemy scoffed, somehow seeing this from underground. It must've been the third eye, Daniel realized. "Trying to rid the fear with pain?" the voice ridiculed from below. "Not happening," he mocked. "I knew you were coy from the start."
Daniel ignored the insults of the enemy, for he didn't care for them; he didn't even know the opponent's name. Calm down, Daniel kept telling himself. Calm down. "Daniel…" Kenneth muttered under his breath sympathetically, calmly as if to hide it from his brother, who didn't very well seem to notice him speaking. He washed a look of worry over his face, watching his brother try to rid of his fear that he so much denied. He had promised Shintenmaru he wouldn't feel that way, ever! He wouldn't!
PoVS
Teresa and Walter continued to rush through the thick trees, barely even talking to each other because Teresa was rather sparse in comfort from being around someone who seemed so… tense all the time. He hadn't even looked at her; he had acted as if she had not been there for the whole time, and she just kept her eyes on him, and he knew that. The thick trees were glowing with a morning glory that came too early. Their thick bodies seemed to stand no obstacle in the two-man team's way, their bushy heads wide and shady, their as well as thick shadows falling over their faces in a tickle that gave them a shady comfort.
The grassy trees hid away the moon as it eavesdropped on their soundless conversation and spied on their every single move, every single step as if it were to give it a million dollars. The clouds above were only seen from punctured holes and shadows of the canopied forest. It was like a jungle without vines or marsh, but thick with heat that didn't seem to die in the night and wildlife. Few birds twittered themselves a perishing song of alertness before they nodded to sleep. Nests rustled, bushes answered back affectionately. Squirrels dotted against the leafy ground, their clawed steps tapping lightly and attentively, their tails like roller coasters, amusingly waving as they moved with that tiny nut of autumn in their hands. The cool mist settled in, and Teresa was fed up.
She cleared her throat, calling his attention. Walter did not answer; she didn't care, she began to talk anyway. "It'd be better if it were morning," she said strongly, declaratively. "Then we'd have an advantage; but I suppose that's not the case right now, is it?" No answer. She went on. "No matter; it's only about an hour or two before morning anyway, right?" No answer. She searched for the sign of recognition over Walter's face. She stalled it for a long time, a longer time than she expected. Then, finally giving up, she began to accept the fact that there was none.
"Teresa," Walter surprised her. Teresa jerked her head up, and looked to Walter in her own recognition with shocked eyes; she hadn't expected him to call her. "I have a favor to ask of you." Teresa just kept running, waiting with her long sleeves dragging her by. Walter knew she was ready for the question, for she seemed very interested. "Eric," he began. "He solved your problems, right?" he asked seriously.
"Yeah," Teresa answered quickly, almost cheerfully but not too cheerfully as to scare him away. "Why?" she asked back, curious.
"Just…" Walter disregarded her question. "Who is he, exactly? Why does he care so much?"
"Because, I guess…" she let her voice trail off and began to peer off to the treetops above in thought. She watched the moon through punctured holes, as if it were to give her an answer, as if it were to provide her with warmth and realization. "I guess it's just that he's someone who… who cares. Someone who'll actually try to solve your problems, because he's had some of his own," she explained the best she could.
"His mother died mysteriously; his childhood was full of him getting made fun of by the other kids at school. That's what his problems were. It doesn't make any sense; it doesn't ft together," Walter almost snapped at her. Teresa stared, and thought for another while as they kept running aimlessly through the shadows and bypassing trees.
"No, it's more than that," Teresa explained. Walter seemed to be the one who was surprised now, widening his stare just a little bit, then returning them to a mean, cold glare ahead. "He wants someone to protect; someone to care about because he's all ready failed at losing the ones he loved. That's who he is; that's the answer to your question," she said softly back, giving Walter some insight.
Walter sighed, and somewhat scoffed. "Someone to care about," he muttered under his breath, so low that Teresa couldn't hear him. "Why would he want to care about me; I'm just a suicidal freak." Teresa ran on, not noticing that Walter was lowly whispering to himself. "In that case, Teresa," Walter spoke louder this time, catching the girl's attention. She quickly turned to him, blinked once. "If we find White Cloak…" he let his voice trail off somewhat. He cleared his throat, as if it was a nervous thing to say, but in reality, he really wasn't nervous. It was just a habit. "Let me take the lead," he suggested.
Teresa seemed to stammer at first, unsure of what to answer. "Sure," she said, not really certain about her answer. She turned back, and they continued to run through the forest, somewhat searching and somewhat not, looking past shadows and watching beyond their horizons.
PoVS
Silhouettes talked, legs crossed on the floor respectively, dark shadows of moving people and chatting among a bamboo film that covered their presences, shaded them over and took away their color eagerly, innocently. Voices were mumbled through the bamboo, encased in their own private speaking. Three silhouettes motioned gently, respectively, two sitting side by side, waiting, both elderly. Another thick with a bamboo hat, sitting respectively and being the only on speaking chatting, while the elders examined, observed him, and listened. The lights were on dimly, and somehow, they were transmitted through the tiles that the bamboo built.
"I suppose Shihou would've liked to come herself," a familiar voice spoke, standing up in finale, about to take his leave. The old Japanese furniture cornered the room from the sides, nothing but two mats there to sit on comfortably, to kneel on in prayer of monument.
"I'm sure," an elderly woman's voice choked out in an ancient rasp of tone.
"Thank you for having me. It was a pleasant visit," the visitor's voice rang on. The being seemed to hesitate to move out.
"I suppose we'll be expecting them soon," the taller, elderly man spoke, gray hair and glasses matching the stereotypes.
"Most surely," the heavily clothed being ensured, all coated with a blue robe that was thick with space inside, face almost covered in a brown bamboo topping that seemed to be an umbrella from a high elevation. "I'll take my leave now; thank you," he showed his respectful gratitude.
"No, thank you," the elders answered back. And with that, the being slid open the light brown bamboo door, and stepped outward into the darkened halls passionate with defined wood and closed spaces. The dark, enclosed hallway seemed to remind the figure of home. However, he didn't very well miss it. No, not just yet. It had been much too long since he had gotten outside. He slid the door shut behind him, and began to silently pace his way out. He could hear voices of the two elders counseling with each other, happily, yet seriously. The steps continued to pace themselves towards the corner until he had to turn.
Another figure, much, much younger than that of the one passing by stood against the wooden walls, blatantly listening to their conversation in a guilty eavesdrop that induced no shame. He had bowed his head towards the floor, covering his face with a red cap of some sort, hiding his light brown hair away. He had worn pure white clothing, stainless of sin and whatnot, and hid in the darkness, while he continued to listen to the voices counsel inside. The discussion rang in his ears, and the being knew that the other was nearing, the one about to take his exit, yet he didn't care. There was no use in caring. The creaking footsteps turned the corner and began to walk past the figure. The taller being paced past the younger, younger adult.
The older being began to wonder if he should even be considered an adult, after hearing so many years walk past so easily and slimly, unnoticeably. He had lived far beyond his years. The older walked past with ease, and the two seemed to ignore each other, as if the other had not been there, two separate pictures overlapping each other with unacknowledged pacing and existence. "The family was always curious," the taller one finally spoke as he found himself turning the next corner. The younger boy didn't seem to care; the other presence didn't matter to him, even though it should have. It did to everyone, actually.
The taller, older one found himself out on the porch, watching the soft rains come down on the small, sloped roof above. His footsteps stopped their creaky ancientness on the old, fine wood, for his task had been completed. He could go home now. Yet he didn't want to. Not yet, anyways. He listened to the sound of the splattering rain that randomly fell upon the ground, randomly tapping on the soft road that awaited him. The darkened skies emitted no sun, and painted the sky a deep gray of beauty. No thunder rolled; no lightning scorned. Just rain. Just the tears of paradise coming down slowly and heavenly down, the pouncing noise coming into a roar that whispered lightly into this being's ears. The grassy green had been overturned into a solemn emerald. The air was fresh and cool with a weathered scent that gave the being comfort, an exhilaration of ease. He was deprived of his worries, drained of his anxieties for now, as he watched the rain, watch the growling winds of innocent nature. Only when he returned would he have to tense up once again. It was another reason why he didn't want to go back.
"Bad weather today, huh?" the man asked, nicking the top edge of the circular bamboo hat that seemed to sway in the light winds that seemed paradise to this man who hadn't seen rain in such a long time. He was about to take a step into this heavenly paradise of harvested tears but took one last second to remind himself of where he was, one last breath of preparation before he started a new unstressed journey back to stress. There was nothing left for him to do, except, of course, go back home. The man stared on, not quite ready to take his return and leave. Brown eyes of a swayed past stared out from the bamboo disk, a triangle of brunette hair blocking one eye. They were innocent, no longer curious of the world for he knew everything and everyone. The rain was just another thing he had mastered, but never ceased to amaze him. Then, with that last breath of promise, the Water Council began to start out, and began to walk amongst the rain, wishing for no better day than this.