Clary: Let's all wecome back: LIIIIIIAAAAAAAAA~~~ (cheers)
Lia: ...
Clary: Lia, you're supposed to say something~ We're celebrating your life, you know~~~~ (bubbly with joy)
Lia: ...
Clary: Lia... Are you still mad at me?
Lia: Stupid question. I read the last chapter, Issa, and your author's notes. You made it sound like I was DYING.
Clary: But, Lia, I was really worried about you~~~~~~
Lia: And you apparently know more than the doctors because you didn't deem them right when they said I was going to be okay. I WASN'T DYING! (And I have a lower than normal platelet count in the first place, it's just that it lowered down even more because I was sick).
Clary: Okay fine. FINE. I'm sorry, Lia, for being a good friend. Apparently, I'm not supposed to worry about you when you're sick because you'd go into bitch-mode.
Lia: I don't appreciate the sarcasm, Issa.
Clary: Everyone was really worried about you, you know. You saw their messages. You don't have to be a bitch about it. (grumbles)
Lia: I know, I saw. Thank you guys, so much. I'm a whole lot better now (mostly because Issa was exaggerating on my condition) and your thoughts touched me very much.
Clary: Awwwwwweeeeee... Lia is touched~~ (We're friends again, right Lia?)
Lia: (sighs) Yes, yes, Issa, we're friends.
Clary: Yey~ (The first part of this chapter happened because I was deliriously happy, by the way, please excuse it~~~)
DEATH PLAY
Written by: Clary~
Acknowledgements to: Lia (who got her ass better, thank God), Alatarielf (thank you so much~~~ we love you~~~ Lia was touched~~~), Shuzuka (thanks sooo much~~~ we think Syusuke will still love Tezuka, too~ Clary thinks that yes, you should definitely yell at Lia, someone has to do it), neumegami (mou, we wish we could draw as well as you could, that drawing was AWESOME and don't let other people tell you otherwise, if they do, we'll beat them up for you~), phoenixfirekitsune (yey~ we think Persona is a jerk, too~~~ Lia's fine and dandy now, thank you so much for your encouragement), kolachess (yes, we're suckers for sweet Syusuke, strong Tezuka fics, too~~ kyaaa~~), lemon-and-chai (thanks so much~ we'll try our bestest~~~), sotfreakazoid (thank you for you get well wish~~~ Lia's fine now and Clary's gonna continue on with the story~~ we hope you like this one~~)
VII. LONG MORNING
Sleeping in the bathroom probably wasn't a good idea.
Syusuke felt cold again, and his dizziness had intensified, and his head was still pounding like crazy. He didn't know if this was how people felt like, when they had hang-overs and he didn't want to, because if this was what a hang-over feels like, he'd rather not drink at all.
He'd had more than enough of his share of the experience and he hadn't even drunk anything remotely alcoholic yet.
... Great. So now, his mind was wandering.
That wasn't a particularly good thing and he suspected he won't be able to come to class today (again). He groaned.
He shuffled back to his room and gingerly sat on his bed. He didn't want to lie down, not yet, it would probably only worsen his headache. He noticed he was still clutching his phone. He squinted at it, trying to see if there was any return call.
There was none.
Syusuke didn't know if he should feel disappointed or worried. Maybe a little of both.
He hadn't heard from his brother in almost two days, and while it was good that his nii-san wouldn't get to see him like this, it wasn't good that his nii-san might be in trouble.
He hadn't heard the door open and close either.
But when he turned around, his nii-san was there, by his bed, hair more messy than normal, eyes almost... blank and... and... clothes soaked with blood.
He immediately went to him, despite the headache and the dizziness, they didn't matter, right now, it was only his nii-san that mattered. His brother, who was bleeding.
He had a hard time breathing. "Nii-san... What happened?" he asked, reaching out to touch the bloodied clothes.
There was a flash in his brother's eyes, before they settled on the floor. "It's not my blood."
Oh. Oh. He wasn't hurt. But... who, then? "Who...?"
His brother turned to him at the question, eyes beseeching.
"Nii-san?"
"Syusuke."
It was all he heard before he was enveloped in his brother's hug.
His breath came out in a gasp.
Nii-san had hugged him before, many times, and this was the same and yet... different.
Despite the fact that he was cold, and so was his nii-san and his nii-san was wet, the hug was warm to Syusuke and it did... strange things to his body. There was some kind of fluttering in his stomach, and his blood was tingling, and his skin was tingling, too, where they touched. His heart was pounding wildly against his ribs, there was pounding all over, his head was reeling and his face was filling with warmth. He'd never felt this before (or perhaps he had, and just hadn't noticed it), but he liked it. He liked the fluttering, the tingling, the pounding, the warmth, best of all he liked being in his brother's arms like this.
He closed his eyes and smiled, reveling in the warmth.
And abrubtly, the warmth was gone, his nii-san was pulling away and all Syusuke could think about was no, come back, he wanted it, and he opened his eyes, willing his brother to come back, don't leave, please don't leave.
"Syusuke."
There was a strange, unidentifiable tone to his brother's voice that Syusuke could not place, but he stopped thinking again, because nii-san was clutching his face with both hands, looking at him through warm, loving eyes, leaning his forehead against Syusuke's.
Nii-san's hands were warm, too, and they felt nice against his cheeks like this. They were so, so close, Syusuke could feel his brother's breath against his face, his lashes fluttered against his brother's cheeks, Syusuke's forehead was tingling where it met with his brother's, and Syusuke raised his head a little so he could see his brother's eyes.
"Nii-"
He wasn't able to finish because by then, his brother's lips were against his. They were warm, too, and soft, and the feeling of it against his lips made him very, very aware of how much his blood was tingling, his heart was pounding, his head was reeling.
His brother was kissing him, he realized, and his nii-san was holding his face against him, his grip was so strong, Syusuke couldn't pull away even if he wanted to, and he didn't want to.
A very, very small, very, very rational part of his mind was screaming at him that this was his brother, this was very, very wrong, but it was easily overpowered by the much larger part of his mind telling him just how wonderful it felt to have his brother's lips against him like this, how nicely their bodies melded together, how good it felt to be loved like this by the person he, too, loved the most.
His body moved before he could even comprehend it. He was responding to his brother's kiss, his hands came up to tangle with his brother's hair, silky and smooth, he pressed closer and he couldn't get enough. He wanted this, and it was all he knew right now. He loved his brother and he wanted this.
He always had, he just didn't know it, but he always had.
His knees buckled and they fell down on the bed in a tangle of limbs, but the kisses never stopped, never gave any sign of stopping, and Syusuke, lying underneath his brother, could only think of how happy he felt and how perfect it all was.
"Nii-san," he whispered against his brother's lips.
His brother tightened his hold. "Syusuke," his nii-san whispered back, with so much warmth and so much tenderness, Syusuke felt his heart bursting with love.
There were tears forming in his eyes, happy tears, joyful tears. "Kunimitsu," he sighed in between kisses, trying to convey the love, the warmth, the joy, the everything. "Kunimitsu."
He was dizzy again, but it was a good kind of dizzy and he didn't mind it at all, with Kunimitsu kissing, loving him like this.
"Syusuke."
It was so, so beautiful and Syusuke couldn't have asked for anything more perfect.
"Kunimitsu."
He lifted his face and nuzzled it against his Kunimitsu's own, feeling him trailing kisses all over his face, feeling so, so loved, and he was thinking about how it was the best feeling in the entire world, before everything went black.
./.
Yukimura watched as Chitose took one sip of his coffee and scowled.
"This has got to be the worst coffee I've ever tasted in my entire life," Chitose commented, rifling through the diner's complimentary condiments, looking for a pack of sugar.
"I know," Yukimura smiled condescendingly, before turning to glance out the window of the diner. "That's why I didn't taste it." He indicated his untouched coffee cup.
Chitose made a face. "Have I told you that I don't like you?" he asked, tearing another sugar packet open. "Why the hell did you not tell me?"
Yukimura shrugged. "Would you have listened?"
"No," Chitose replied, raising the cup to his lips again.
Yukimura watched him as he winced.
"Now, it's too sweet."
"How many sugar packets did you put in it?"
Chitose glanced at the torn remains of the packets he'd placed at the table. "Um," he paused, counting. "Six." He glared down at the packets, as if it was all their fault. "I didn't think they were that sweet." He stared at his coffee for a moment and sighed. "Gimme your cup."
Yukimura raised an eyebrow. "Why would you want more coffee?"
Chitose glared at him from across the table. "I don't want coffee, I need coffee, if you don't want me to fall over and die because you're too much of a prude to just go in there," he jabbed his finger at the window, pointing to the high rise commercial building across the street. "And nab the stupid bitch who's causing us so much trouble."
Yukimura twitched. Atobe and Chitose were, in very many ways, alike and though Yukimura had tried to overlook that these past hours, he was losing patience very quickly, and it didn't help at all that Chitose had just managed to say Atobe's favorite pet name for him and question his decision (again) in the same sentence.
"Language, Chitose," he snapped, looking at the building again.
Chitose grumbled from across the table. "Kuranosuke's not here, I can say whatever I fucking want to." Then he grabbed the cup without waiting for Yukimura's permission anyway, and Yukimura was reminded (again) of how alike Chitose and Atobe were.
Any longer and he won't be able to stand it. "You do know I can tell him, right? We sit right across each other at breakfast."
Chitose lifted his head and glared at him again. "Fuck you."
"No, thank you," he replied, eyes still on the building.
He was deeply regretting deciding to have a stakeout outside the building the shadows had led him to, tracking the immortal woman who'd had a look at the files of some of the Academy's best students. Chitose had wanted to get a disguise and go in there, get the girl and go, but Yukimura held him back. The shadows were even more restless in this area, whatever that immortal was involved in or whoever she worked for was not anything good. And Yukimura didn't want to press his luck, only to find himself failing and losing the element of surprise they had just so Chitose could play pretend-spy.
He wanted to get the job done as much as Chitose does (lord knows how much he wanted to) but he wanted to get it done with less uproar. This was probably a secret thing in the Academy and they didn't need the news of the break-in to leak out because he couldn't stand a stakeout with Chitose, who he found to be an Atobe mini-me without Shiraishi to keep him in line.
"It still doesn't taste good."
Yukimura glanced at the table, counting the torn packets. "Of course it doesn't. You've only put two in."
"Well, there aren't any more," Chitose ground out.
"What, did you expect them to have an unlimited supply of sugar packets?"
"No, I expected them to have enough."
"Eight is enough."
"Not with this kind of coffee."
Yukimura wanted to scream. He suddenly wished he wasn't partnered with Chitose Senri, of all people, and next time, he would make sure he never was, Chitose was so much like Atobe, he couldn't stand it.
"So ask for more," he nodded his head to the waitress, who was sashaying her way to a table, smiling seductively at the customer there.
Chitose followed his gaze. "I'm not flirting again with that bitch."
"Language, Chitose," he snapped again. "Besides, you just have to ask for more sugar packets. It doesn't entail flirting. No one told you to flirt with the girl in the first place."
"She started it," Chitose narrowed his eyes. "Don't you see how she flirts with every single man in the damn diner?"
"Yes, I see that," Yukimura answered, rolling his eyes. "But she wouldn't if you don't flirt back."
"I can't not flirt back. It's in my nature."
... Yukimura's hands were twitching underneath the table. He was so close to strangling the kid, he was so much like Atobe, he had the urge to kill him and have done with it. "What is it with you and asking questions?" He said this with the sweetest voice he could muster and hoped that Chitose had enough primal instincts to be aware of danger.
"What is it with you and bitches?" Obviously not.
This was going to be a long day.
./.
Chizuru examined her hair in her dresser mirror again.
It looked pretty enough, and she was quite satisfied with the way her sandy locks had been twisted so that they resembled a ribbon, somewhat, though she still felt like she should have put more wax. Still, it looked pretty without ornaments, so it was probably okay.
She glanced at Hinako sitting on her couch, wearing a green, flattering dress, nuzzling her cat, Munin. Chizuru had gotten the Siamese cat in France, and Munin had been with her for a long time, so of course, Hinako had taken a liking to Munin, too.
She stood up, smoothing the wrinkles of her kimono. Today it was pinkish-white with the design of a bridge over water and little carrages passing over it near the hem and a bright red obi. It was a little looser than usual, because she suspected some sort of a fight today. There was a selection of lacquered okobo by her door, too, because she didn't want to get her kimono dirty.
Her long katana was in its sheath by the door as well.
"Seems like you're in some kind of trouble," Hinako commented, playing with Munin's paws.
Chizuru took small steps towards her room's huge floor-to-ceiling windows. "No, not particularly."
"That's your battle kimono," Hinako informed her, looking very wise for it, though Chizuru didn't know why. She didn't have a 'battle kimono,' she had kimonos and then some.
"I don't have a battle kimono." She was starting to feel exasperated.
"Yes, you do." Hinako was talking to Munin now. Chizuru didn't know whether or not to be offended that she'd been passed over for a cat, even a cat she loved as much as Munin. "When we have to fight people, you wear your pinkish-white kimonos. And okobo, too." She tilted her head to the general direction of the door.
"I don't want them to get stained," Chizuru said, peering out the window. They were still there. She'd felt their aura this morning, and those auras were still quite familiar, considering it hadn't been a long time since she had gone to the Academy to have a look at their files. It seemed they found out, though how they did, she didn't know. She'd been sure to leave it the way it was before she touched anything.
There were only two, but they were still a problem that she had to eliminate. And no way in hell was she going to let her kimono get dirty.
"Why? It's not like you can't get new ones," Hinako said, like the child she was because Hinako didn't see that the problem with new ones were that they didn't look and feel as nice as the kimonos of Ancient Japan, and they felt, to Chizuru's sensitive skin, like fakes.
"I don't want new ones."
Hinako put Munin down and went to stand beside her. "You are impossible sometimes."
"So are you."
"Ashikaga-san is trying to go in Death again today." Well, that was out of the blue.
"I know," Chizuru replied, still staring at the diner some floors below.
"Aren't you going?" Hinako was pressing and Chizuru knew why, and she wasn't going give Hinako what she wanted.
"He didn't ask me to." Chizuru turned to look at her companion. "Stop trying to distract me."
"How many?" Hinako asked this time, sighing and taking one last look at the diner across the street before sauntering over to her dresser.
Chizuru watched her. "Just two."
Hinako had picked up one of her favorite hair ornaments, a cluster of freshwater pearls at the end of a long pin. "... Can I help?" There. That was what she had wanted all along.
"No, it's my problem," Chizuru replied as Hinako picked up an emerald obi brooch. "You've had your fun."
Hinako turned to her, pouting. "Mou, it wasn't that fun. They didn't even put up too much of a fight."
"It's my problem," she repeated, making her way to the door. Best to just get this over with. She turned a critical eye at the different okobo lined up neatly, before selecting the one in the center, polished to perfect shiny black. She grabbed her katana and turned back to Hinako. "Do you want to borrow that?"
Hinako grinned at her, already pinning the brooch to her dress. "Pretty," she breathed.
Chizuru's mouth quirked up to a smile. "I know."
"You've still got to make up to me, Yurehime," Hinako said, bouncing towards the door. "Blood is so much prettier than an emerald obi brooch."
./.
There it was, the Fifth Gate.
It looked exactly like before, though he knew he shouldn't be surprised. It wasn't his first time in Death, and it wasn't his first time on this part of the river. It wasn't anything new, and he had stopped feeling the fear that came naturally to a person not blessed with the power to walk in these waters. Tons of research has provided him with more than enough information about Death's rivers, he felt as if he had always been meant to walk here.
He still had a ways to go before the Seventh Gate, where he would finally meet his prize, but he can be patient. He'd been patient for such a long time, what more was a few minutes?
He'd come here before, with exactly the same intent as right now, but he'd never succeeded. Yet.
He was getting on to be quite confident that today, he'd do it, and that damn Academy would finally be gone.
Somehow, today, it didn't feel so much ambitious as it was real and very, very reachable.
He just needed to be able to awaken that Greater Dead, chained beyond the Seventh Gate and then he'd be more than unstoppable. Probably not even Persona and his precious kid lackeys can stop him, he'd command an entire army of dead and he'd be unreachable in death, himself. It had been a well-formed dream and he'd be damned if it wouldn't become a fully-realized plan.
All he needed, after all, was that Greater Dead.
And then no one could stop him.
Persona didn't have anything that could. No one, nobody. He'd killed off that entire thrice-accursed clan for a reason, he didn't want anyone to interfere, no one, absolutely no one was going to stop him.
There was no one else in this entire fucking world that could walk in death, not like this, not after the extermination of the Academy's pet favorites. They were dead, all of them, he'd killed them all off himself, men, women and children.
No one will be able to touch him. Not anymore, not after this.
He stared at the Fifth Gate victoriously, already feeling the satisfaction he knew was to come.
At long last, finally. Fina-
... A jolt on his shoulder awakened him so that he found himself once again in his body in the real world. Not in death, but in the real world. He was almost there, what the fuck were they thinking, disturbing him like this?
"What the fuck, Murakami!" he roared, grabbing the hand on his shoulder and shoving it powerfully away from him.
There was a minute crash and something green, before he realized that it wasn't Murakami who'd awakened him and jolted him out of death.
It was Hinako. All green, from her strapless little dress, to her eyes and her brooch and an antrocious-looking headband that kept firm control over her brown, newly-bobbed hair. There was red soaking the skirt of the dress, though, and on her skinny little arms, she was clutching large shears that had embedded itself on her abdomen.
She was glaring at him through slitted green eyes. "It hit my intestine, I think." She pulled out the shears with a small wince, and threw them all the way to the other side of the whitewashed room, immediately looking down and examining her dress in dismay.
He sat up from his lying position in the only bed in the room and moved to straighten his clothes. "What the fuck are you doing here, Hinako?"
She looked at her dress again and peered at him through long, curled lashes. "You're not even sorry. Mou, Ashikaga-san, you hit my intestine." She began flapping her arms around for emphasis. "Intestine injuries are fatal injuries." She looked at him again, and probably because she wasn't getting the reaction she wanted, she said, again, "Fatal," with so much more emphasis.
"Fatal, if you were a normal person," he started standing up, giving her a critical gaze. He wasn't even sure there was such a thing as 'intestine injuries', he was pretty sure if normal humans had their intestines cut open by shears like that, they'd be dead, instead of having 'intestine injuries' and whining about it. "Which you're not. You'll live."
She scowled. "My dress is ruined. It's my favorite color, too. And it's silk, and as far as I know, this was the last one they had. And I got this brooch from Chizu-nee," she pointed at the brooch on the upper part of her dress. "It matches perfectly. What am I going to do with the brooch now?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from exploding. "That's not my problem. You were the one who distracted me from a very, very important-"
"It's not as if I wanted to." She picked herself up from where she was sprawled with all the other medical equipment on the floor. "Murakami-nii told me to. He said something about something being wrong and um..." She paused, pouting at the ceiling. "Well, I don't remember what exactly, but he said to bring you back, so I pinched you."
It seemed like every time she showed up to annoy him, she always had the protection of 'Murakami-nii told me to do this' or 'Murakami-nii said to do that'. He was going to have to give Murakami a good talking to, the guy shouldn't depend on a kid like her too much. "You're the worst person to deliver news, Hinako."
"I'm not happy," she said, stomping her foot, and pointing towards the blood soaking her dress. She should be completely healed by now, but there was nothing anybody could do about the tear on the left or the blood. "The least you could do is say sorry."
"I'm not sorry," he said, moving towards the door, wanting aspirin. "Where is Chizuru?"
She looked up from inspecting her dress for the nth time. "Huh?" she asked distractedly.
Great. Now the dress was more important. The last time he saw her, it was a lollipop, now it was a dress. He had the urge to strangle her, and made a mental note to tell Chizuru to keep her away from him for the next few weeks lest he does anything drastic. "Where is Chizuru?"
"Oh, somewhere."
"I'd like something more specific than somewhere, Hinako."
"I don't know where, what the hell do you want me to say?" she demanded, just like the child she was. "She went out a few minutes ago, something about two Academy brats trailing her, and how it's none of my business so I should just keep my head out of it." She looked at him darkly. "She never lets me in on any of the fun."
"What?" Did they know what he was planning?
Hinako took one long look at his expression and grinned. "Relax, Ashikaga-san, Chizu-nee thinks it's about the break-in. How they found out, I don't know, and I don't really feel like knowing, but they do, and they trailed her."
"Is that all? What else did she say?"
"She says she'll take care of it." Hinako's expression was dark again, probably thinking about how she was 'missing out on the fun'. "And she'll bring you a souvenir. She says to tell you that Persona will be having two less brats to do his bidding."
"Ah," he said, feeling relaxed again. "She would say that. That's a nice souvenir."
"Actually," Hinako called. "She wanted to chop their heads off for making her dirty her kimono. I told her you'd like it. Was I wrong?"
"No," he replied, smirking despite himself. "You're absolutely right. Though it'd make even more wonderful souvenir for Persona, don't you think?"
"Oooh," Hinako cooed, giggling. "I like the way you think, Ashikaga-san."
Clary: The Siamese (Munin) in this chapter is in honor of Lia's cat who I love very much. (And who worried over Lia with me~)
Lia: She spoils him. I think she's the reason why he's becoming fat.
Clary: (gasps) How can you say that about such an AWESOMELY cute cat? Monsieur Peluche is the best cat in the whole wide world and he's not fat!
Lia: I said BECOMING fat. I didn't say Monsieur Peluche was fat. YOU were the one who said he was becoming fat, if I remember correctly.
Clary: I said I THINK. My exact words were "Lia, is it me or is Monsieur Peluche becoming heavier? (pause) Oh, well~ I think it's just me. I haven't been cuddling him as frequently these days."
Lia: I don't remember you ever saying that. What I remember, though, was: "Lia, Nate says Monsieur Peluche is becoming fat."
Clary: Then, that's NATE. That's not me.
Lia: It still came out of YOUR mouth Clarissa. Face it, you are LOSING this argument and there's nothing you can do about it.
Clary: FINE. But you can't do anything about the fact that Monsieur Peluche LOVES ME.
Lia: That wasn't what the argument was about.
Clary: Whatever.
Reviews are appreciated. Monsieur Peluche will love you guys~