Good Evening, Author here.
My goodness it's been a bit of an absence! I apologize profusely for it--it was a very unexpected absence. Now I'm back, and I will be updating sporadically.
This, my friends, is what I will tentatively call the penultimate posting for this story. Just a heads up. Thank you, kind readers, for your continued patience.
Mai-hime belongs to Sunrise
The Day After Tomorrow
Try to forget what's in the past, tomorrow is here.
Shizuru felt her shoulders back into something and she leaned her head back as her mouth opened up to take in ragged breaths. In this still darkness she attempted to keep herself upright by lodging the naginata on the ground. Her stomach felt as if it was on fire, a slow rolling roast that sickened her deeply. Her eyelids drooped as she looked up at the sky. Was it really a sky? Maybe if she reached up she could touch it... No. She brought herself back to the here and now with a brusque shake of her head.
If I fall... what would happen?
The Obsidian Lord moved with a fiendish speed that belied his monstrous strength. One swing of Miroku reduced her cover to mere rubble and would have lobbed her head off as well if she did not shove herself from the crumbling wall. She turned and knocked a larger piece of rubble away from her with a swing of her naginata, but her footing was unsure and her breathing increasingly erratic. The Obsidian Lord brought the sword up and placed it casually across his shoulder as he studied her with impassive eyes the color of the sun. They even flashed in what Shizuru could only read was a faint sense of disgust. She wanted to compare it to how one would view some insignificant little creature before smashing it with a boot. A mere blotting out of existence. This is what she had willingly walked into.
Her grip on her weapon increased as she thought of that rather careless move on her part. She only had a slight advantage over this supernatural entity standing before her and it was in her hands. The naginata was a weapon of status and a weapon meant to keep the attacker away at least enough to properly disarm and move in for the kill. It was a weapon for cavalry at first, then a weapon for protective wives and mothers who watched the estate as their warriors girded themselves up for battles in far off places. But Natsuki was lost to her now, and this would be purely a killing weapon diving in upon a murderous intent. Shizuru brought the weapon up and took in a deep breath. She was never too keen on the concept of killing, but moral stances were neither here nor there as the Obsidian Lord studied her with those glowing eyes of disapproval. She felt the anger overwhelm her with a frightening speed.
This was the one who had indirectly caused her Natsuki to die.
He seemed to read her thoughts and offered a careless little shrug in what looked to be acknowledgment. So? So what?
You couldn't protect her.
Shizuru barely flinched.
"In a matter of time, this world will merge with your world, your living Earth," the Obsidian Lord explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "The gateway to Valhalla will open, and the war for this world will truly begin in earnest. We are merely ushering in the first conflict... the greatest conflict."
"... Why?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Why? ...Well, I guess I was never quite asked that question in the past." He paused and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I am growing tired of this world. This... insignificant, little blot of dimming color and festering diseases. You feel it too, don't you? In this pit of maidens. The stench must be overwhelming for you. But imagine that multiplied tenfold and spread out to the farthest corners of this little planet."
He wrinkled his nose as if he had been forced to smell something particularly unpleasant. Shizuru could not blame him—the air reeked of coppery blood whenever she remembered that she was, in fact, hunched over a pool of fallen maidens.
"This... sickening place needs to be cleaned. Beautified. Yes, I suppose I would like that. To make this world beautiful."
"Beauty is relative," Shizuru noted in the stillness that followed his explanation.
He cocked his head to the side as he regarded this. With an easy shrug and smile he allowed himself a brief chuckle at her terse statement.
"Perhaps. But history is also written by the victors. I regret that you will not be able to appreciate just how beautiful this new world is by the time we finish." He frowned slightly. "But you seem to continue this fight with such earnest, Shizuru-hime. Which begs me to question why. Why are you fighting so hard, for a cause so lost?"
Shizuru set the blunt end of her naginata onto the ground beside her. When she breathed in the heavy scent of blood filled her lungs. Exhaling did nothing to take it away, but this time she managed to keep a straight face. She took in another deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"I suppose... that it would be unfair for only one person to decide this lofty future for all of us. Someone has to play the devil's advocate."
"Ever the diplomat, I see. I suppose this is why the others thought that you would be the one to win out."
She raised an eyebrow but offered no comment as the Obsidian Lord smiled in amusement. His eyes were telling her that their conversation was soon to be over, however, so her brain began to work in overtime to formulate one last-ditch effort to reach the body holding the corrupted presence.
"If it were Mai-han, would this have been any different?" she asked finally.
He paused and the smile faded slightly.
"... I would have been more upset at the inevitable end," he murmured. "But do not worry, Shizuru-hime. The death of a close friend will serve this body a similar amount of grief."
She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment before flicking the naginata up from its resting position. She leaned it over her shoulders and stood completely still. The Obsidian Lord sighed.
"... Such a beautiful individual. I just hope this dance will be your best."
"I have no such intentions of giving my best dance to you," she replied, and her eyes flashed once with a deadly crimson glow.
For the first time, the Obsidian Lord felt something twist in his heart.
"You saved us, why?"
Kyoko did not glance at her brother even as he spoke to her for the first time since they had cleared a path from the crumbling club to the streets. Strangely enough it wasn't as cold as she thought it would have been but she welcomed this break from the freezing temperatures. The pit of her stomach quivered madly and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering at a sudden fit of nervousness. How would she answer that sort of question? She wasn't even sure what possessed her to raise her hand and call her Kiyohime out to save them all. She finally turned and locked eyes with her brother. Those worn maple eyes had lost their spark a long time ago, ever since this entire mess started. And when was that, exactly? The accident that caused Shizuru to lapse into a coma? Or was it earlier when Shizuru was born? Or was it even earlier than that, when a young Shigeru stumbled upon her isolated self when she was in the middle of a painful transformation? Whatever the case, those eyes were curiously accepting now, so she quietly cleared her throat and graced her brother with a response like any polite individual would provide.
"It was not familial piety. Kiyohime is an avatar of jealous rage contained in expensive silk and fine manners. I only have enough control to unleash her fury in a direction to which I see fit. How she reacts is out of my hands."
It was a start to something other than a stony silence in spite of her arrogant tone. Shigeru rubbed the back of his neck and heaved a great sigh before readjusting his torn sleeve. She watched him fidget in this uncharacteristic manner for a few seconds before she shook her head.
"That is rather poetic, coming from you," he said finally.
She considered this and shrugged.
"I suppose so. And rather ironic. She died twice to save you both again."
The message was not lost. Shigeru straightened and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he stared towards the crumbling mess of a club. She wondered briefly if her sharp tongue had earned her another outburst from her brother but she was surprised when she saw Shigeru's shoulders begin to slump slightly. This was highly unlike him.
"... I doubt I will ever forgive you."
She closed her eyes.
"I was never looking for that, brother."
Shigeru made a soft sort of noise that hovered between mild curiosity and slight frustration. Honestly, they had played this verbal game with one another one too many times. Even Kyoko began to feel the mounting frustration as her brother pulled his lips back into a sneer.
"Then? What were you looking for?"
"You are asking me this now?"
He waved a hand, then, and Kyoko could see that his lips were eased into a sad sort of smile. Her frustration began to drop as she saw this
"It looks to be the end of the world as we know it, Kyoko. I suppose now is a good time to be asking this question. I'm not sure how many levels of hell will separate the two of us."
"Good point."
Kyoko absently rubbed her hands together as if to conjure up the long-lost memories of aquamarine eyes. After a moment she let her hands fall limply to her sides. She found the task much easier than she was comfortable with.
"She was a mirror, the missing piece for both me and you. She risked her freedom and furiousness for bliss. She found that bliss in you, and I was given some measure of control in the process. But in the end, you were the true dampener and that was passed on to your daughter."
"So I was supposed to be your mediator, then."
"That was how it was first conceived, yes. But I admit that we were not compatible for one another at all."
"A sore outcome. I cannot apologize for that either."
"I know. So in the end, I did not know what I was looking for until it was too late. By that time, the Carnival was already set in motion through First District and now with the gathering of these maidens."
It was an answer. Shigeru shifted his gaze to the rubble next to his feet.
The Gateway opened just a crack, revealing a blinding flash of light and a plethora of smells that nearly knocked Natsuki back. Her bloodied fists laid limply at her sides as she opened her mouth and panted from the exhaustion. Consequently the scents of blood and perfume wafted over her sensitive nose and laid on her tongue, but she took it all in with a sense of relief. There was progress, and with that in mind she pressed her shaking fingertips against the Gateway. Beside her she was aware that Duran had long since disappeared into a shimmering cloud of green lights, but she could not afford to look back now. She had read about this before—the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. They were painfully close to the beginning of the underworld, this limbo where everything and nothing existed at the same time. She would not look back, even when her heart began to grow numb and a slow whining picked up in the back of her head which was now mysteriously clear.
But Duran had not left her completely. No, the chilling cold she felt in her limbs was a comfortable cold, a nostalgic cold. She absently patted her stomach and stood in front of the Gateway once more.
"Well, I have one shot."
Strangely enough it felt nice to hear her own voice again despite how hoarse it sounded. She offered up a grim smile as she took several steps back from the Gateway and planted her feet down. She stretched her arms above her head and took in a deep breath before letting her arms fall. Around her the snow had begun to accumulate in her limp arms which she then brought up as if holding up a rifle. The snow responded, building a long barrel and impressive firing mechanism that soon hardened to crystal clear ice. The magazine would carry only one bullet, but that was enough for her. She narrowed her eyes and felt the ice respond by anchoring her to the ground. The small sliver of freedom presented by the Gateway was in her sights and she rested her finger on the trigger. If for some reason this did not work, it would only be a matter of time before she could recover enough for another shot. A voice in the back of her head chided her on this lax attitude, however. She had all the power of a god, indeed... but less time than a mortal in the midst of Armageddon.
She pulled the trigger.
The power was incredible. Natsuki felt something collide into her back and she realized with a belated blink that it was her back colliding onto the ground. The sky was still hazy but with the instant change in scenery came a fresh blast of hot air and the stench of blood. She eased herself up to her knees and felt another blast of hot air brush against her cheeks. The Gateway had been breached. She exhaled slowly and recalled the ice cannon, letting the diamond dust sparkle down to her feet.
What was this place?
A graveyard, the voices whispered out to her. A graveyard for the lost and defeated. She closed her eyes and stood up fully, but she stopped short when she saw her.
Chestnut brown hair flew back in the wind, revealing incensed crimson eyes that particularly glowed from the surroundings. The naginata in her capable hands swung in wide arcs, cutting the air around it as it clashed repeatedly with what looked to be a black claymore wielded by a man dressed completely in black. Those golden eyes of his were narrowed in what looked to be supreme impatience, as if the man had expected nothing more than a meek surrender. Natsuki narrowed her eyes at that.
Her Shizuru, surrendering?
Never.
Shizuru brought the naginata up to catch another blow of the claymore, but this time the sword pushed through. The sturdy wood splintered and finally gave way to the blade, leaving Shizuru with a makeshift sword in one hand and a broken rod in the other. She hastily threw the rode away and settled both hands over the splintered wood. Something surged in Natsuki's exhausted limbs and she felt herself clap her hands together. The leather from the gloves creaked in response to the sudden change in temperature as frost brewed from her lips.
Get down!
Shizuru's eyes widened but before she could discern where that particular thought came from, she obeyed and ducked out of the way. This saved her head from a particularly nasty swipe of the Obsidian Lord's claymore. Furthermore it enabled her to escape the sudden onslaught of a glacier racing towards the two of them. The ice slammed into the man's chest, eliciting a surprised grunt to Shizuru's satisfaction. He was knocked back as the ice melded into a crumbling wall, further pinning him into this subzero prison. This afforded her some time to breathe, and she rested her tired arm.
She stood with her back to her savior in this momentary lull.
"Yo, Shizuru."
Shizuru closed her eyes.
"Ara... I was beginning to think you weren't going to come."
Her voice choked halfway through that calm statement but the smile on her lips was genuine.
"Sorry I was a bit late." A chuckle echoed in the stillness. "I was overdue for a visit with a few individuals, it seemed."
"I see."
There was a terse pause before she heard footsteps coming near her. Shizuru felt the coldness of leather and the warmth underneath blanket part of her bare shoulder and she merely sighed in response.
"I heard that it's the end of the world," Natsuki continued in soft tones.
"Perhaps."
Shizuru made a noncommittal shrug to follow her response. Natsuki stared out into the distance for a moment, her thoughts decidedly lost.
"What will happen to us?"
It was a question Shizuru had not been prepared to answer, but she merely sighed and took up her broken naginata again.
"I suppose... that is only a question that can be answered after we deal with this current conflict."
Natsuki eyed the imprisoned Obsidian Lord and let go of Shizuru.
"That... can easily be arranged."
The Obsidian Lord finally wrestled his body out of the subzero prison, only to meet the business end of a naginata pointed straight at his throat. He looked up and saw the fearsome emerald eyes of a hulking wolf glowering down at him. Shizuru hefted the broken yet impressive weapon from her position on top of this mythical steed. The Obsidian Lord offered a grim smile at the two even as the blade pressed against his throat.
"This body will live on," he announced. "You may kill me now, in this garden of the fallen, but only one will emerge the winner."
Shizuru offered no response as the wolf growled menacingly. The Obsidian Lord tilted his head back and laughed quietly.
"And this is how my story will end, as the Hunter who drove this Red Riding Hood into the jaws of the Wolf." The Obsidian Lord dissolved into a small fit of chuckles at his own amusement. "You realize, even with my defeat, the world will still hurtle into a certain end. You are not delaying it in any manner."
"We know," Shizuru replied simply.
"Then you also know what you must do."
Shizuru flicked the blade over and stabbed in one clean push. The Obsidian Lord felt the blade enter his chest and he lurched forward, but the smile on his lips seemingly grew in response to the merciful blow. Even as he fell to his knees and dissolved into those familiar green lights, the smile remained on his lips, haunting Shizuru even after that image finally disappeared from the bloody landscape.
Only one will survive.
The world outside was still alive in shades of gray and muted colors. At least, that was what Mai's eyes were telling her when she finally managed to open them and focus them enough to see where she was. The ground beneath her was cold, but it could not even begin to compare the emptiness she felt inside her. She stiffened.
Kagutsuchi?...
There was no response. This brought along an equal amount of grief and joy, but she had trouble differentiating between the two and came up with a pounding headache and a nauseous flip of her stomach. Her lips parted and she let out an uneasy groan which was immediately accompanied by her immediate eyesight being invaded by black hair and flashing golden eyes.
"Mai!"
Mai blinked and looked up in her mild daze to see Mikoto looking down at her with a relieved expression on her face. Beyond her stood two older individuals but she recognized the confident stance of Fujino Shigeru despite his tattered clothes and soot-covered face. He looked like a grizzled boxer facing down his last opponent with that tired look in his eyes and the firm set of his lips into a contemplative frown. He spoke in hushed, clipped tones to the woman next to him who was also carrying herself quite well despite the worn out clothes and slightly disheveled hair. Mikoto snuggled against Mai and she absently patted the younger girl on the head before her brain finished piecing together what had happened. Another nauseous flip of her stomach invaded her and she brought a shaking hand to her lips.
"... Natsuki..."
She stood up and nearly knocked Mikoto away from her as she swayed and attempted to look around at the same time.
"Natsuki!"
Oh no... No no no no no...
Shigeru turned along with the unfamiliar woman. Mai froze as she saw those silver eyes center onto her own. But it was Shigeru who spoke first, in gruff tones that sounded slightly out of place from his usually calm manners.
"We don't know where they are right now."
He paused and clasped his hands together briefly. His eyes spoke of intense agony, crippling worry over that uncertain thought, but he managed to stand still without fidgeting. The woman beside him carried a rather neutral expression on her face but something odd flickered in those eyes of hers that Mai could not quite distinguish.
"No one knows what's going on, really," he continued in that gravelly tone. "It's been a good hour, hour and a half, since we managed to get out of there. I don't even want to know what that translates into."
"Time is relative," the woman noted smoothly. "It's only the ends that count at this point."
He looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face and suddenly it clicked in Mai's head just who this person was. Memories of black hellfire and acid crowded her mind and she shook her head briefly to rid herself of the crippling sensations.
"Is this the end?" she asked hesitantly as she faced the woman.
"... It's too early to tell. Only two remain, now."
The sky lit up in shades of green and blue—a portal of some sort was opening above them. Out dropped a body dressed in a familiar black suit. An obsidian claymore lazily flipped in the air before burying itself into the asphalt blade-first. Reito wheezed and clawed at his chest as blood spurted out from a fresh cut, causing a round of surprised noises to come from the assembled group.
"Aniue!!"
Mikoto ran towards her brother with Shigeru and Kyoko in tow. Shigeru hurriedly ripped through the younger man's shirt to take a better look at the cut while Kyoko fished in her bag for a cell phone. With a disgusted growl she flung away the broken device and watched as Shigeru quickly assessed the wound.
"It's deep but it doesn't look like he was gutted through any vitals," Shigeru announced. He rocked himself back onto his heels and scratched his chin. "None of our phones are working because of this interference..."
He looked over at Mikoto.
"Mikoto, listen to me." When the younger girl calmed down enough to nod he continued. "Follow this street down to the end and turn left. There should be a clinic down that road but if it isn't open the hospital is only several blocks down. Run as quickly as you can and if there is no one there, bring me the biggest first aid box you can find, do you understand?"
Mikoto nodded and shifted to her feet, taking a moment to set her fingertips on the ground. She took off as if she had launched herself from a starting block, and soon all they could see of her was the cloud of dust her feet kicked up from the street rubble. Mai watched her race off and she limped over to the two kneeling over Reito. Seeing him struggle caused another fresh wave of panic to invade her system and she fell back as unresponsive legs lost their strength once more. Kyoko threw her a decidedly venomous look in response.
"Try to pull yourself together, girl," she snapped at Mai. "Panicking isn't going to make him heal any faster or make us feel any better."
"Kyoko," Shigeru said in a warning tone. He turned and faced Mai, training his voice to stay calm despite the situation. "It isn't as bad as it looks, but he'll need medical attention quickly. I'm going to try and stem the blood flow as much as I can, but I need your help."
Help, it turned out, was Mai's jacket. She numbly took off the item and handed it over to Shigeru who turned it inside out to reveal the liner. The absorbent layer took to the blood quickly and the pressure seemed to alleviate Reito's initial panic at the sudden injury. His breathing eased slightly, which to Shigeru could mean either relaxation or one step closer to a more permanent form of relaxation. He bit his lip slightly and tried to clear his head of that negative thought, only to hear the faint groaning of the man he was tending to.
"Don't talk," Shigeru warned, but Reito was already shaking his head at that command.
"No... It's too late anyway..."
Now Kyoko was staring down at him.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "There is only one left. By all rights it should be over."
Again Reito shook his head.
"One... returned..." He paused for a moment and clenched his jaw once. "There is no... winner."
The implications of that statement were lost to all but Kyoko, who in turn parted her lips in mild shock.
"There will be... no winner."
Reito would say no more but Kyoko had already gathered the implications of the message. She turned away even as Mai and Shigeru hovered around the injured man. She turned and looked back towards the ruined club with an unreadable expression on her face.
"Would you really do that, Shizuru?" she asked softly.
Even after all this time, and all this hardship, would you really turn your blade on your loved one?
Just to save all of us?
Kyoko sighed to herself.
"It was our mistakes they are fighting through, and they will pay for it dearly."
Shigeru looked up at that spoken statement, his maple-red eyes glimmering in the darkness. He looked into his sister's eyes and wondered for the first time if that was really guilt he was seeing. No, that couldn't be right. His sister was incapable of guilt. He raised an eyebrow but the second he blinked, the strange emotion that had invaded his sister's eyes had gone away in favor of that familiar expressionless look. The ground beneath them rumbled—they had grown painfully accustomed to it by now. Shigeru looked back down at Reito for another moment before shaking his head. Why was he so concerned? For all he knew the world could be ending within the next hour or so, and whatever medical intervention on Reito would have been wasted. But what else was there to do in the face of their own Armageddon? Despite these thoughts there was no frustration in the former boxer's thoughts. Instead he craned his neck over and looked up at the uneasy skies with a tired look in his eye.
There was an awful feeling that was beginning to build in the back of his mind. It brought an unpleasant taste to his mouth and for a second he wondered if shaking his head would dispel it. It was wishful thinking and he knew it. These feelings of trepidation were not foreign to him. He may have lacked the strange otherworldly power that his sister, his wife, and now his daughter possessed, but that did not spare him completely from the strange sensations that trickled into his mind. He heard whispers of thoughts that the wind carried to him, distant murmurings of happenings that occurred beyond his comprehension. Tonight, however, these whispers carried with them a constant message that even he was starting to unravel on his own. It was a slow, meticulous process and the message was only half-complete, but he could guess at the contents at this point. He inhaled deeply and picked up the scent of blood.
He was now ready to throw the towel in.
The landscape was changing right before their eyes. This was the hall of the victorious, now. The floors were of a pristine silver glow that was soon marred by the blood dripping from Shizuru's bare legs and feet. The battle-worn couple merely looked around at the blinding white light all around them, finally focusing on what looked to be a throne at the end of the expansive hallway. They walked down the hall and stopped near the throne. It was an impressive work of art done in what looked to be a pure block of white silver. In Natsuki's opinion it looked incredibly uncomfortable to sit on even with the plush furs blanketing the seat. What interested the two more, however, was the person sitting at the throne. Shizuru's eyes widened as she recognized the pale crystal-like eyes and serious face that could not have belonged to a girl as young as her.
"... Mashiro?"
The girl nodded faintly in response but her lips remained pursed. They heard eerie chuckles echo across the hall but the source was easily placed when another familiar individual stepped out from behind the throne. Natsuki narrowed her eyes and glared at those amused pink eyes of Shizuru's other cousin Nagi.
"What are the two of you doing here?" Natsuki asked.
"What indeed!" Nagi replied with a grin. "This is our humble home, dear wolf. Although, I do tend to prefer the nicer comforts of Earth than this austere realm. Isn't that right, Mashiro?"
Again there was no verbal response from the girl. She was normally soft-spoken but this silence seemed rather strange to Shizuru who in turn locked eyes with Nagi. Nagi shrugged in response.
"She's been like this since the Obsidian Lord emerged," he explained. He patted the girl's hand softly. "They've had a bit of a... history, if you could call it that. For a second there we didn't think you'd make it, but then again our little Natsuki plays the maverick role very nicely."
"We didn't come here to mince words," Natsuki snarled. "We did what we were asked, why aren't we returning back?"
"It's not that easy," Nagi admonished with a wave of his hand. "I'll admit this is the first time we've encountered this sort of... situation."
"Situation?" Shizuru asked.
Nagi shot her a sudden look as if asking her why she was even asking that question. Then his gaze traveled over to Natsuki and it dawned on him. His eyes narrowed in amusement and his lips curled back into a deliciously cruel grin that only served to make Natsuki even more annoyed. Mashiro merely stared on with an unreadable expression as Nagi's chuckles echoed across the otherwise empty hall.
"What the hell are you laughing about," Natsuki growled.
The chuckles died slowly as Nagi regained his composure. He casually leaned one elbow against the throne and began to stroke the long tresses of his unmoving cousin. After a moment of idle petting he let go of the silken locks of hair and instead hopped up to the throne's arm. He perched on the edge and idly swung his legs as he watched Natsuki. Each hit of his heels against the throne produced a loud bag that echoed in the unnerving silence. He stopped his swinging and propped his elbows on his knees, shifting his gaze towards Shizuru.
"This is what we like to call the throne of Odin," Nagi explained in a sing-song tone. "We like to think that the Norse god would have sat here with his ravens and wolves, viewing the world with that sense of dread that would only come from knowing the future of the world he was watching. You know of that story, don't you? Of Ragnarok, of the end of the world as an epic battle costing the lives of many. We would like to think of it as this, but the gods only survive in the hearts of their believers, and sadly enough many religions have been extinguished in the sands of time. But this throne, curiously enough, remains."
"What are you getting at?" Natsuki asked, this time in a more curious tone.
"Only the victorious may sit upon this throne," Mashiro said finally. "The Watcher will stand guard until the next Carnival."
Shizuru and Natsuki exchanged an uneasy look until Nagi exploded into a fit of clapping.
"Congratulations! You've made it this far down that slippery slope without losing your footing. In exchange we give you this lovely throne and the opportunity to rule over this world as you see fit!"
The clapping died after a while and he raised an eyebrow. His lips puckered in a sort of frown that one would commonly get from eating a particularly sour lemon. He raised a finger and cleared his throat.
"Of course, there is but one problem."
He hopped off of the throne and took three steps forward. The frown had now eased into a more contemplative curve of the lips as he brought up two fingers of his other hand to join the one he already had out on display.
"There are two of you, and only one throne. Surely now you see the dilemma the two of you have brought onto yourselves."
He retracted his fingers and calmly folded his hands behind his back. So far, so good. Neither of them fidgeted enough to be considered outwardly nervous. The pieces that were already in place for Shizuru were not beginning to click together for Natsuki, and just as he suspected she did not take this development well at all.
"No."
Natsuki turned on her heel and began to storm away. Nagi warily turned his gaze over towards Shizuru. When she did nothing to stop the wolf Nagi rolled his eyes and trotted over towards Natsuki.
"You realize that if you walk away, you'll be damning everyone in that precious hunk of rock you call Earth," Nagi announced, no longer in his sing-song mood.
This stopped Natsuki cold. She turned again and locked eyes with Shizuru.
"I know that," she muttered.
"Then you know what you have to do. What the two of you have to do." Nagi licked his lips. "There isn't that much time left. Even you've felt that."
"I know," she repeated, indicating that the conversation was now over.
Surprisingly Nagi let it go and made his way back to the throne, taking his spot next to Mashiro. He turned and regarded the two before sighing.
"Fine. You'll have ten minutes before you must make a decision." His eyes narrowed. "The two of you must make a decision."
Natsuki rubbed her forehead while spotting an alcove in this strange silver palace. Shizuru followed her wordlessly as they exited the main hall and found themselves overlooking a strange mess of swirling clouds. The palace floated above this landscape, affording it an excellent position for looking over what seemed to be multiple worlds. Natsuki took off her gloves for the first time and pocketed them. Her bare hands pressed against the silver railing, joined moments later by another pair of hands. One of them hesitantly pressed against her hand and she responded by turning it over so that their palms touched. For one long minute they simply held hands in the overwhelming silence.
"No... I suppose we weren't supposed to have the easy way out, were we?"
Natsuki looked up as Shizuru spoke.
"I guess not." She paused. "Did you know about this?"
"I had my suspicions," Shizuru admitted. "Our family... is uncomfortably involved. It was only a matter of time before something of this caliber was revealed, even if I did not want to believe it."
Natsuki offered a grim smile that Shizuru mirrored in response.
"It doesn't matter," Natsuki announced. "It could've gone any number of ways. I'm pretty sure we would've arrived at the same conclusion."
"Oh?" Shizuru raised an eyebrow. "Were you that confident?"
"Of course!" Natsuki almost looked offended. "We would have pulled through no matter what, despite whatever obstacle was in our way!"
Shizuru had the sense to giggle at the confidence Natsuki exuded through that one statement.
No matter what.
Her eyes dimmed, however.
No matter what... it would have come to this.
Natsuki seemed to be thinking along the same lines as her fingers twitched against Shizuru's palm.
"This was easier when I thought Kagutsuchi had killed you," Shizuru said in halting tones. "I was blinded by that rage, and as a result I fulfilled my part of this dirty Carnival."
Natsuki nodded.
"Well, I'm not that clean either," Natsuki muttered with a shrug.
Another minute was passed in relative silence.
"Natsuki?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think there's a place out there where we would be able to live in peace?"
There was a small sigh even as their hands were laced together in a comforting hold.
"You know, I think we invite a little too much excitement for that."
"I know."
An idea was beginning to form in both of their heads. It wasn't very enticing and even a bit crazy, but there was really no other option. Their ten minutes was beginning to grow short, and as they looked into each other's eyes they knew that there was no backing down. Natsuki pushed herself away from the railing and turned to face Shizuru. They stared at each other for a few seconds as if to commit this meeting to memory.
"Well, here we go," Natsuki declared.
"I love you, my Natsuki," Shizuru said, causing Natsuki to pause.
Her lips twitched into a small smile.
"Love you too."
She grabbed Shizuru to pull her in for a rough kiss.
This world of ours... was beautiful once.
Shizuru quietly brought her arms up. The crimson blade of the naginata glistened in the light as Natsuki wrapped her arms around Shizuru and held on tightly.
But who's to say that it still can't be beautiful?
Natsuki could taste the salt of Shizuru's tears but her mind grew curiously blank as she felt something shove into her back. She tried not to cry out even as her body began to react to the extreme pain.
It won't be the same.
Her vision was beginning to grow dark. She saw a ghost of a smile grace Shizuru's lips along with a thin line of red that dribbled from the corner of her lips down to her chin.
But that's never a bad thing.
Someone fell—who was it? It didn't matter. Nothing much mattered now.
After all... I have you.
My world is beautiful now.
The silver throne was crumbling. Mashiro felt the tremors beneath her clasped hands and she looked up to see Nagi walking towards her with a calm expression on his face.
"It's over," he said, and she felt herself releasing a breath she wasn't aware she was holding in.
AN: Here we are. One more to go.
