Miracles do happen. God doesn't like a WiP…
POMEGRANATE
--Cocytus--
The River of Wailing.
…
The assassin barely noticed the wind whipping his long red hair, pulled tightly back from his face. Only took note of it to correct the angle of his aim.
He could pick out his target even through the warp of the glass, from the terrible (though necessary) angle he was at. He recognized the features of Akira Kiyosato from the countless hours he had spent studying photographs, video tapes… There was no room for error. Battousai allowed himself no room for error.
And perhaps another would have been moved by the sincerity in that face, the fresh suffering of a well-meaning politician. Battousai was not in the business of being moved. It was not up to him to decide who did and did not deserve to die. He had committed himself to following orders from those who did know… Innocent did not exist in an injust world. Innocents, perhaps, suffered less when dead.
But Kenshin pushed that thought aside. Suffering… did not concern him. It did not do to dwell on it. He dealt in sudden death.
The people in the building were shuffling around. Taking their places. And there was Kiyosato-san, just in place, exactly where the Battousai needed him, his head seeming to float about a sheen of glare in the window, his heart… there.
The assassin aimed his rifle, concentrated one more moment to be sure, and squeezed the trigger.
…
Kiyosato felt more at peace than he had in years. Perhaps since the day he had found his father dead. Perhaps since the moment his mother, in the hospital, barely a memory, had said goodbye.
His fellow representatives were finally listening to him. And if not fully supporting him, at least attending his opinions… Considering them. This was the largest obstacle. One more push and then things would get easier. …Hope was becoming reality, not just a necessary illusion for his own well-being.
And there was Tomoe.
Tomoe who was perfection, even broken.
Tomoe who needed him.
Tomoe who could use him, would use him, even if she did not need him, after all.
Tomoe.
He could imagine them in a meditative cottage together, surrounded by a winter forest and silence and the peace and the wisdom of the ancients. Contemplating the miracle of each other.Years and years from now, after his work was done. Tomorrow, if he failed.
Tomoe.
Her brother suspicious, jealous, possessive, and who could blame him? Enishi had accompanied her today and Akira had seen the challenge in his eyes, responded with… acceptance.
Because Tomoe was greater than either of them. She was enough for both of them… For anyone. She was infinite.
And this was his thought as she stretched before him to serve his tea, a creature made of light in her pale kimono embroidered with ethereal blue. This was his thought as the assassin's bullet entered her heart.
…
…
A/N: J K Rowling hijacked my muse. I dedicate this chapter to the bitchy reviewer who kicked my ass back into gear. ^_^
This is the home stretch, folks. Two more chapters, tops. It's been real.