Clary: Um. Yeah. We haven't updated in over a quarter of a year. And yeah. We're so sorry. It's just that shit happens sometimes, you know? And sometimes, it's a whole lot of shit. I can't tell you guys what coz I've been sworn into secrecy, so let's just say, I'm so happy to be back with LIA~~~ Yey~~~ -hearts- Say hi, Lia!

Lia: I actually wouldn't be surprised if none of you guys read this story anymore. We have bad update habits, after all.

Clary: BUT WE LOVE YOU GUYS EVEN THOUGH WE'RE BAD AT SHOWING IT! Jeez, Lia. I just asked you to SAY HI. And even though I agree with you, if you guys read this I want you to know that you guys have my heartfelt thanks and –sniff- oh my God, I think I'm gonna cry.

Lia: Please excuse her. She's been riding quite the emotional roller coaster these past few months, or so I've heard.

Clary: It's a bad ride. There weren't even seatbelts and it was expensive as hell.

Lia: Uh-huh. Sure. So we won't keep you. Thank you for being so ever patient with us.

Clary: This isn't one of my better chapters, but enjoy! :)

DEATH PLAY

Written by: Clary~

Acknowledgements to: Lia (-Clary not allowed to say anything-), Alatarielf (thank you SO, SO MUCH, Clary actually calmed down a bit after you got her into researching and now she loves you... we hope you like this chapter :)), Knights of Cydonian Starlight (Golden pair.. Just so you know, Lia, I call dibs on Eiji! And we hope the beginning of 2012 treated you well, too :)), lemon-and-chai (maa, we totally agree with you~ waii~~ as for the deaths... our lips are sealed, kay? –wink-), phoenixfirekitsune (he deserves it, ne? We hope you like the fight, even though it's a completely fail one, we think.. ahaha :)), animangadeek0624 (-le gasp- oh my gosh, I use researching as a cover story to read fanfiction, too~~~ my soul mate~~ -hearts hearts- we hope you enjoy!)

XVIII. DEATH PLAY

It was her million and first entrance to Death, no different from her first time, except that now she wasn't grieving (lie), and she wasn't hysterical. She couldn't count the number of times she'd been as far to the Ninth Gate, exactly, it wasn't her most favorite of places in Death, and it likely never will.

Still, she'd have to commend those brats that they actually got her into Death this far.

And like always, she found her gaze riveted to the opening of the Ninth Gate, in an almost futile attempt to see... something.

A stretch of waxed, dolled up hair maybe, or a glint of chestnut eyes, whatever, something, anything. And like always, just as she had expected, she found none.

Her parents had died more than a century ago, anyway. They wouldn't be waiting for her, and she wouldn't ever see them.

Not when they're dead and she... she could not die.

(But at least she got them the justice they deserved... She still remembered that beautiful, wonderful, wonderful rush of adrenalin and how she had stood, at the end of the carnage, untouched and not a hair out of place, wiping a stray drop of blood from her cheek, how she had killed herself and watched all of them pass through the Ninth Gate to whatever hellhole they deserved to rot in and how she shouted at the Ninth Gate, telling her parents that see, she had avenged them, after all.)

She paid a steep price for that justice, but it was a price she had (and still did) willingly paid.

When she turned away from the mouth of the last gate of Death, it was to find two gems of cerulean trained into her form.

He was watching her silently, unmoved by the waters of Death, and though he was getting paler and paler by the minute, his soul's strength was not waning in the slightest.

She smiled wryly. "I see you're not dead."

His reply was to shrug, a slight movement of his slight shoulders. He looked torn for a moment before his face broke into a small, shy smile that reminded her, once again, of why she had hesitated to bring about his death.

Because despite the smile, his eyes spoke of the same pain hers did.

He blinked, and she couldn't help but notice how his long lashes were caked with flakes of wet snow. It was always snowing in the area that led up to the Ninth Gate, she didn't know why, but it was perhaps the same reason why whirlpools dotted the river at the Eighth Gate, and why the Fouth Gate was preceded by a waterfall.

She could never understand Death.

"You're sad, do you know?" the boy was saying, tilting his head endearingly to the side. "But that's okay. I lost my Mother and my Father, too."

Her eyes narrowed. Not once has she mentioned... But then again, he was friends with the shadow-wielder sadist. "Your shadow-friend told you, did he?"

His smile widened. "No." He began walking towards the Ninth Gate and a misty fog started to cover the opening. "But he didn't really need to. We orphans tend to recognize each other."

It was the infinite sadness in their eyes that told their tale, but could only be recognized by someone bearing the same sadness.

She did not reply. But it seemed he didn't need any to continue.

"My parents... died in a war too.. Or I guess you could call it that." He shot her another smile. "I never really knew them, and I remember very little. But that's okay, too." He reached out a hand to the murky veil that had covered the gate's opening. "I know I'll be with them soon."

Of course he would. He was mortal and Ashikaga-san was practically seething for him to die already (actually, now that she was in on it, she was supposed to kill him... oh well). But she was immortal and that meant that no matter how hard she fucking tried, she'll still be stuck back out here in life.

Besides, no matter how lucky he was now (strange, she thought she aimed perfectly), he would end up dead one way or another. He was fighting for the wrong side.

She knew, more than anyone, the consequences of fighting for the wrong side.

Like her parents, and his, you ended up dead.

(Nevermind that all she had wanted after she avenged her parents was to die herself.)

He was watching her with his wide blue eyes, with his caked-with-snowflakes lashes, watching her with a gaze that was curious, but that seemed to see through her.

"You want to die."

She didn't answer, but then he hadn't really been asking a question.

Was she that obvious?

"I can't die." And that, too, was a fact.

"Everyone can," he was shrugging again. "It's just a little harder for others."

Her smile was wry again, because she was remembering all the times she wanted to get herself killed, all the times she tried, and all the times she had (obviously) failed. "Really."

"You forget who I am."

The scion of The Clan of Death who Ashi... She sucked in a sharp breath. The scion of the Clan of Death. The Clan of Death. If there was anyone, anyone, who could grant her the one thing she had always wanted, it was him. Only he could, she realized, because he was the last of his kind.

She didn't realize she was stumbling through Death's waters to him, until he was close enough to touch.

He was smiling again. "You want to die."

It wasn't a question. But... but... just in case... "Yes," she said breathlessly, clutching his shoulders so tightly it must have hurt.

If it did, he said nothing. "Can I ask you something, though?"

She nodded, unsuspecting and uncaring.

"Smile, okay?"

She gave him the happiest, most brilliant smile she had ever given out in ages.

"I'm happy," she told him, being, for the first time in a long time, completely honest.

"Then I'm glad."

She heard the soft, smooth tinkling of what was undoubtedly a bell, and her soul, as if in response, relaxed. She felt free.

And as she passed through the barrier she had never been able to pass, she turned back around to smile at the boy that had given her the true desire of her heart. He was waving, his pale figure barely visible against the bleak background.

Her smile widened, committing him to memory before she turned and felt herself be enveloped in the warm, familiar hug she had missed so much, the one she had longed for, for more than just a couple of years.

And on her million and first trip to Death, Maihara Chizuru finally found her home.

./.

It was clear, even before the fight started, that Morto was different, more powerful, more resilient to the bells that the Fujis wielded somehow.

He was of the Greater Dead, after all, and though that should not have mattered much, he's had centuries of power that ensured that none of Syusuke's predecessors had ever been able to banish him to true death.

The best they had been able to come up with was the binding, and Syusuke knew now, that even that had been shaky at best.

He had an entire army of dead on his side, as well, and even though the rest of his family was taking care of them (and of the man named Ashikaga), Morto was still something of a big problem.

During the course of the fight, Syusuke had rung three bells.

The best those bells had gotten him was the area just before the Ninth Gate, when, at his sheer force of will, the Bell of the Walker's sound had been amplified by the Bell of the Thinker and got them to where they were right now.

Morto had dug his heels and fought against the power of the rings before he came close to passing through to true death.

It helped Morto, of course, that after ringing two of the most powerful (and resilient) bells simultaneously, Syusuke's strength had depleted so much, he could barely even see properly.

Morto was laughing, eyeing Syusuke patronizingly, as if this was just a silly little game to him, and Syusuke was nothing more than a furious, sore loser.

Behind him, the sounds of another fight was evident, and though Syusuke worried, he knew he had to keep his full concentration on this fight. His family would be all right, he was sure. They wouldn't be defeated by a coward like that twice.

He refused, absolutely refused, to think about what happened to people who died twice.

"I'll be down soon, Lord Ashikaga," Morto was saying, obviously taunting him. "Just as soon as I am finished with the last pitiful remains of my enemy."

Pitiful? Who said Syusuke was pitiful? Syusuke, who was fighting for all the people he loved. Syusuke, who had a reason to stay alive, who had a reason to win. Syusuke, who, more than anything, wanted to go home to his not-brother's strong embrace and know for certain that he, too, was loved.

Syusuke, who was the scion of the Clan of Death.

Morto should know better than to insult him.

He launched himself towards his enemy, once again, taking the force of the cold Death waters with him.

The impact did more than just take out his breath, but he didn't stop to recover. He let the waters loose, and the towering waves slammed down on them both in a giant tidal wave, swallowing up Morto's form wholly.

Syusuke struggled against Morto's many tendrils under the water, as they tried to pull him down with the creature, touching his leg in caresses that left him shuddering. But Syusuke kicked those away, until he surfaced the cold water, gasping for air.

He could feel the river shifting in response to his commands. He could feel it becoming deeper, and just as he mustered some energy to smile and be pleased, he felt a tendril circling around his ankle, pulling him abrubtly under before he could take another breath.

He could feel Morto's laugh resounding in the grey stillness that surrounded him.

"Pitiful human!" the creature chortled as the tendrils became greater in number, wrapping around his body as he struggled. One wrapped around his neck and for a moment, blackness overwhelmed his vision. "Die, like the powerless fool you are!"

And his words were not merely words. They came with a force that seemed to squeeze Syusuke's entire being, and for a moment, his heart actually stopped beating. Air was being cut off, and it seemed like his blood circulation was stopping. His mind felt like it was being pulled apart and squeezed all at once.

He didn't care that he was underwater, he opened his mouth to scream, only to have water rushing in quickly, unrelentlessly. He knew he was tearing up again, as he choked on the river waters. They had a strange, disgusting taste to them that left Syusuke's stomach in knots.

The force disappeared as abrubtly as it came, replaced by lingering, amused laughter.

This... He can't...

He felt numb all over, and his body was getting close to shutting down and giving up. He... couldn't even move, his mind, and everything else, was getting more than a little bit fuzzy and his heart, that had been hammering all this time was starting to beat slower and slower.

Syusuke knew if this continued, it won't be long before it would stop completely.

But he couldn't die right now. He still had so many things to live for, so many promises to fulfill, and he still had to kill this creature once and for all. He knew, probably even before this, that he was the only one that could, because he was, and will forever be, the last Fuji.

Because he wouldn't have the chance to be in the right situation to 'be fertile and multiply,' his bloodline would end with him.

So Morto had to be gotten rid of, Morto had to be brought to true death, before he could allow himself to die.

At least, at least, he could give Kunimitsu and Seiichi that.

Just a little bit more, he promised himself.

It took great effort to summon a bell this time, even though this bell was the weakest and smallest of all bells, even though he'd summoned this bell easily sometime at the beginning of the fight, and it took even greater strength and much pain to get his hand to grip the handle.

He would be gasping if he wasn't underwater, as it was he merely bore the pain silently. It had been so easy to use this bell before, when he'd granted Maihara Chizuru's wish and finally ended her life, but now, a strange, unfamiliar ringing seemed to fill his head, leaving him dizzy and weaker than ever before.

Just a little bit more.

He cocked his wrist and the Bell of the Sleepbringer's sweet sound permeated through the whole water. He smiled at Morto's screech. Sound, after all, travelled much faster in water than in air.

He felt the tendrils release their hold on him, and, even as his whole body protested, he pushed himself upwards as fast as he could.

When his head broke the surface, he gasped in lungfuls of cold air, and he felt his body weightlessly moving upwards, until his feet barely touched the water.

The strange ringing sound was filling his head again, and he felt the bile making its way into his mouth, but he restrained, his gaze trained into the surface of the Ninth Gate's waters.

Just a little bit more.

The water started to freeze, and not a second too soon, as his weakness manifested itself and he dropped into the frozen surface. He didn't doubt for a second Morto's ability to break the ice... but at least it would buy him a little time.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps, and he felt his entire frame trembling.

But he focused his mind on the second strongest bell in his arsenal, and the most powerful bell he was allowed to summon and use. It would deplete much of the few that was left of his energy, but he had to do it.

He had to. Just a little bit more.

The next time he coughed, it was wet, and something crimson painted the frozen white surface. He ignored it, and focused on the Bell of the Binder.

And just as he managed to get himself to grip the bell's large handle with both hands, Morto broke through the surface, not even cracking the ice in the slightest.

He tightened his grip, cocked the bell and rang it, letting its authoritative sound fill the entire river. He could see, from his position, the more powerful dead of Morto's army that remained fighting against his family with Ashikaga stiffen, and swiftly let themselves be swallowed by Death's waters. From where he sat, trembling on the frozen surface, he could see them passing underneath him, unmoving and still.

The Ninth Gate roared to acknowledge their passing.

But Morto, still poised behind him, wasn't moving. In fact, when Syusuke found the strength to turn around, the creature was watching him with a cruel, satisfied smirk.

"Too late, Fuji Syusuke," he was saying, gesturing to the black tendril that was swiftly making its way over to where his family was now fighting a lone Ashikaga.

Making its way, Syusuke realized with dread, towards Yuuta.

"Much too late."

No! No!

Ignoring his protesting body, his swimming head and his aching chest, he stood up and took off in a desperate run towards the little brother he never even met.

"Yuuta!"

Was this how Kunimitsu felt, when he had been about to get shot? Did Kunimitsu feel this sickening sense of dread, this desperation, this overwhelming fear?

"Yuuta!" His cry was drowned out by yet another one of Morto's grating laughters.

("You'd have a little brother soon enough, my sweet. Just wait. He'll be perfect, just like you.")

Syusuke had never had the chance to become an older brother, he'd been Kunimitsu's little brother all his life, but he knew, he knew, older brothers were supposed to care for and protect their little brothers.

And even though he didn't even know Yuuta that much, even though he only met him today, Yuuta was still his younger brother.

And he had to protect Yuuta.

"Yuuta!" He slammed into his brother's back, feeling relief course through his entire being.

Black was threatening all sides of his vision, and he watched, with some numbness, as if he were watching everything from faraway, as Yuuta turned in his arms, looking annoyed.

As Yuuta's face morphed from angry to horrified.

As his little brother screamed his name when the black tendril pierced and went through his chest.

./.

The wall of shadows was trembling, shaking and barely retaining its form.

Tezuka judged three-quarters of an hour before Yukimura would become too tired entirely to hold it up.

In the first place, he shouldn't have. But when you loved, you worried, and Tezuka knew that no matter how risky it was, Yukimura would have brought it up, anyway, so long as he held additional precaution so the Army of the Dead would not reach Syusuke.

Besides, it wasn't as if he wasn't powerful enough not to.

Over the course of the past few hours, they had been fighting what seemed to be a neverending army.

No matter how dismembered the corpses were, they just kept on going, and through more had stopped coming from what seemed to be nowhere, there was still altogether too many for the few of the Dangerous Types that remained.

Too many of them had died in this battle.

(Tezuka had seen Meiko die. It was a stupid death, and it could have been avoided if she hadn't been careless, but she had, and she'd paid the price for it when the corpse she had supposedly killed had gotten up once her back was turned and twisted her head until Tezuka heard the bones crack. She died smiling about the last battle she thought she had won.)

Looking away from the trembling wall in front of the Academy's gates, Tezuka counted about two to three dozen more Dangerous Types standing. Most of them were injured, and all of them, Tezuka included, were tired, but going on anyway.

The odds were horrible. They were fighting unkillable monsters half a hundred-to-one and they were alive. Apparently, that was a disadvantage when the enemies were dead monsters who don't get tired, and who don't get bothered even as an arm or a head was chopped off.

He picked up a sword from the hand of an unmoving student, and started fighting once again. It was almost mindless, he barely had time to think, there was just too many enemies, so he let instinct take over once again.

At times like this one, instinct was his greatest weapon.

He was too worried, too stressed, too tired to contemplate his every move.

At some point between all the fighting, he found himself back-to-back with Yukimura.

"Put the wall down," he advised, ducking and letting the sharp point of Yukimura's shadows slice the dead in half. "You're tired."

"Who are you to say I'm tired?" Yukimura questioned, eyes sharp and body upright.

He was good in things like these, Tezuka knew. But the shadows he controlled were getting more and more restless, and even though he still manipulated and formed them the way he wanted to, Tezuka could see he was having a hard time keeping them together.

"Someone who does not want to bring your lifeless body to Syusuke because you were too stubborn to listen." Tezuka's words were blunt and to the point. He gripped Yukimura's arm, jerked him to the side and sliced through another corpse that had been coming dangerously near the exhausted shadow-wielder. He was not one to mince words, after all.

Yukimura clearly took offense to what he said (and did) because the next few corpses coming their way were quickly intercepted and torn apart violently by his shadows.

"Do not act as if I am weak, Tezuka." There was a cold edge to his voice that betrayed his anger. "And do not use Syusuke's name so frivolously." All around them, shadow tendrils were wrapping themselves around corpses, squeezing some, tearing apart others. "You will not manipulate me thusly."

"I merely speak the truth." Tezuka turned away from the cold gaze and shred the few that had survived Yukimura's onslaught to ribbons with just his mind.

"Syusuke has extracted a promise from me." Yukimura raised his chin defiantly, and pushed Tezuka out of the way with a sudden burst of strength as a group of corpses surrounded him.

Tezuka stumbled against Atobe, who was right in the middle of a 'be awed by the sight of ore-sama's prowess' moment.

Tezuka saw the wry but satisfied twitch of Yukimura's mouth.

"It is enough." Yukimura's words signalled the firm end of that conversation.

"Bitch," Atobe was muttering under his breath.

Tezuka restrained the urge to roll his eyes and moved away.

And just as he was about to finish off the last of the corpses nearest him, he froze as an odd sense of dread settled on the pit of his stomach.

"Nii-san!"

Syusuke's face flashed in his mind and his muscles locked.

He didn't like this feeling. It was almost as if... as if...

No.

No, he can't. Syusuke can't be...

"Tezuka, watch out!"

But before he could fully register the moment, the corpse had raised a sword and was bringing it in a swift arc down towards him.

"Tezuka!"

./.

"Ne, nii-san..."

"Hmm?"

"It's sad, isn't it?"

"Sad?"

"Dying. It's sad."

"I suppose."

"I don't know what I'll do if you die. I know I'll be really, really sad, I'd probably want to die myself."

"Syusuke, don't ever say that!"

"Well, it's true, ne? You'd feel that way, too, won't you?"

"Syusuke-"

"Won't you?"

"Ah."

"See?"

"..."

"Well, let's just die together then!"

"What?"

"See, if you die, I'll be really sad, and if I die, you'll be really sad, too, won't you, nii-san?"

"Ah."

"So, we should die together! That way, we won't be sad!"

"Syusuke, I don't plan on dying just yet."

"I know, nii-san, you're so funny. But just say..."

"Say what?"

"Nii-san, I want to live my life with you... Is it so weird that I want to die with you, too?"

"..."

"Nii-san?"

"No. No, it's not...

"... I love you, Syusuke."

"I love you, too, nii-san. I love you, too."

Clary: The end! Yey!

...

...

Clary: I'm joking, of course. Haha :)

Lia: I don't think that was very mature of you.

Clary: Oh, pooh, Lia. I was JOKING, okay. There's probably one more long chapter after this (or two short chapters, whichever works best for the scenes) and an epilogue.

Lia: I was against the epilogue. She has the epilogue already prepared, by the way, which baffles me, because she hasn't even finished writing the story.

Clary: Wahahahaha~

Lia: Also, I am under the opinion that she was on crack or something when she wrote it. I hope you are sufficiently warned.

Clary: But it's fun~~~

Lia: No, it's not.

Clary: Yes, it is –sticks out tongue-. I confess that this chapter should have been longer, though, in my notes, this chapter was supposed to have a completely different title, and was NOT supposed to end where it ended, but well, it felt right to stop there.

Lia: This is her trying to explain to everyone, myself included, how it is possible that there could be either one more long chapter, or two more chapters that are halves of the long one. –sigh- I don't know why I put up with you, Clary, honestly.

Clary: YOU CALLED ME CLARY! Oh my gosh, Lia! –snuggles- LOVES YOU SO MUCH, I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE ALIVE!

Review, please, everybody! Huggles to all those who do~