A/N: Happyface. I think I got my groove back. Please read, review, let me know you're still even reading this thing. In other news, I feel evil.

Chapter 13

The camp was silent for hours after the troopers' return. The five warriors sat round a small fire while Chiharu worked diligently to dress and treat Jun's many wounds under the protection of the dilapidated stairwell where she had originally made shelter. All of them were exhausted by the long sprint back to camp, a partial motivator in their quiet, but once the physical fatigue faded they turned their attention to more troubling issues.

Shin explained briefly the events that unfolded in the lower levels of the spire and revealed to the others that they had been forced to give up the yoroi ball on pain of death. Then Seiji explained how he and Ryo had come to find Jun in a cell block packed with dead and dying prisoners, and Jun had not been far from the mark when they had discovered him.

Everyone had seen the boy as they fled the onyx tower, though the truth of his condition did not register until Chiharu began issuing frantic orders once back at camp. She had called for clothes, bandages, water, and anything else the troopers had on hand that could help, and then she strictly removed them from the area, stating that Jun was too unstable to be around so much commotion.

"What about your armor?" Ryo asked Seiji after a while. "Maybe you could help her."

This was an issue that Seiji had been contemplating for some time. He knew that the healing power of his armor could help, at least superficially, yet he had reservations about letting Chiharu see what he was capable of doing. According to Shin she had been unfazed by the wave smasher and, by and large, the existence of the armors altogether, but being that she was a medical student he wondered how she might react to such simple methods of performing her duties.

When Seiji made his hesitation known it was Shu who responded with reason and well-tempered anger. "Look at it this way," Shu said, "if Jun dies do you want to be able to say that you did everything you could do to help him, or do you want to say that you did nothing because you were afraid of a girl seeing the power of your armor?"

Seiji looked indignant but could not refute Shu's logic. In the grand scheme of things his reservation seemed juvenile at best, and so he stood, called his armor, and marched toward the stairs while the other warriors fell back into strained silence. Seiji knocked delicately on the splintered wood outside of the shelter but did not wait for Chiharu to answer before he ducked and entered. She was presently concentrating on her watch, which she held close to her face, while holding Jun's wrist delicately in her other hand. After a while she replaced his hand on his bare stomach and glanced at Seiji casually.

She looked positively haggard. Her face was streaked with dirt and her eyes were red and swollen. Beneath the filth she seemed pale, and when she turned her attention back to Jun he could see a nearly imperceptible shudder course through her body. She had clearly been crying, was still upset, and though Seiji did his best to remain stoic and clear headed he could not help but feel sympathy for her. After all, he felt the same kind of sadness about the whole ordeal as she.

"Pulse is low," she said as the korin approached, then turned back to her charge. "There's not a lot I can do here, not without proper supplies." Then she sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "Is there trouble?"

Seiji shook his head and drew his nodachi. "Don't panic," he said when he noticed Chiharu's expression. Then he lowered the point of his blade to Jun's chest—a challenge in such a small space—and closed his eyes.

"What are you doing to him?" Chiharu asked at once, but she did not move to stop him. "Why do you need your sword?"

Seiji opened his one visible eye and locked his gaze on Chiharu. "My armor grants me the ability to heal certain wounds by focusing light through my blade," he explained. "It's not a technique I use often and I can't be certain whether it will have any real effect on Jun, but at this point it seems that it's all I can do to help."

Seiji could see clearly that Chiharu's interest had been piqued. She sat back on her knees, allowing Seiji as much space as she could afford, and watched intently as he closed his eyes once more and began to focus the dim light that filtered through the broken shelter. The steel radiated softly as it drank in the light, and clear and comfortable warmth spread all around the place. Chiharu felt undeniable calm for the first time in days and stared with awe as the remaining cuts and bruises on Jun's body began to disappear. By the time Seiji pulled his sword away all that remained of the cuts were angry red lines and the bruises had been reduced to large yellow and brown splotches that looked on the better side of healing.

The exhausted warrior dismissed his armor and sat down to survey his work. For the most part he was satisfied, more because he had done his part in caring for Jun than because the effort had proved particularly useful. Indeed, if Seiji had been honest with himself he hoped for more from the halo armor than what it had provided. He did not expect Jun to wake immediately after the procedure, but he had expected all of the outward signs of trauma to be gone. The situation left him wondering if the wounds had been more serious than he had expected, or if the halo armor was weakened by his own weariness.

"That was amazing," Chiharu said quietly, and she leaned forward to stare at Jun's body. "I never realized that such power existed in the world, can you imagine what would happen if it could be harnessed for—"

Despite his fatigue, Seiji could not help but snap at her. "That's enough of that kind of talk. My armor is used for my purposes only."

Chiharu felt stupid and stared at Seiji dumbly. She stammered an apology, on the verge of tears again, and he knew at once that he had let his emotions get the better of him. The two sat in silence, watching the shallow rise and fall of Jun's breast as he breathed, and waited for some sort of change. Routinely, Chiharu would grasp Jun's wrist and read his pulse, would touch the back of her hand to his forehead, would try to force what little water she had down his throat, and all the while Seiji watched on with mounting dread. He wondered how many hours it had been.

"You must be tired," Seiji said at last. "Do you want to take a break, go get some air?"

Chiharu shook her head and sighed. "No, I'm all right," she said. "But thank you all the same. I might take a bit to eat if we have enough to spare."

Seiji nodded and got to his feet, and as he made for the door he stopped and glanced back at the girl who had begun her routine once again. He opened his mouth to speak, to thank her for what she was doing, but thought better of the gesture and excused himself from the shelter instead.

Once outside it was clear that half a day or more had gone by. The nether-realm sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and the sky was streaked with the unnatural warmth of its sunset. The smell of warm food drifted on a soft breeze that drew Seiji to the fire. He sat on the ground between Shu and Ryo and accepted a bowl from Shin gratefully.

"She wouldn't come out?" Toma asked. "How is Jun?"

It seemed that the troopers had overcome their earlier exhaustion and were now in relatively high spirits. Even Seiji felt better after having a few bites of food, and even though it was simple miso it warmed him through and made him feel at ease.

"Chiharu declined to come out, though she said she'd take some food when I could get it to her," Seiji said. "And Jun is…well…" His brow furrowed in thought as he searched for the words to describe the young warrior's condition. "He's still out."

The troopers went quiet at the statement and collectively examined their soup bowls. The news was apparently not what they wanted to hear. They continued eating in silence until they were all finished, and Seiji prepared what was left over for Chiharu's dinner. There was no response when he excused himself from the party, and when he entered the space beneath the stairs he heaved a sigh. Chiharu had fallen asleep with her head nestled comfortably on Jun's shoulder, her fingers entwined in his, and she seemed more content than she had been since he had met her.

Seiji placed the lukewarm soup on the ground and sat, happy enough to let Chiharu sleep while she could, and reclined against a thick pillar from which he was afforded a beautiful view of the nether-realm sky. He stared out at it for what felt like hours and listened to the quiet conversation of the other troopers die away until there was naught but the rasps of Jun's labored breaths.

When next Seiji opened his eyes the moon was high in the sky and the firelight seeping into the space had reduced to a pile of smoldering ashes. Chiharu was awake again, poking and prodding at Jun in what seemed to be her usual rhythm, and she seemed not to notice that Seiji had roused. In fact, as Seiji continued to watch her she seemed frantic, anxious, and she frequently touched her fingers delicately to Jun's cheeks, whispered in his ear.

"Is everything okay?" Seiji asked quietly, tempering his voice so as not to startle the girl.

Chiharu looked at Seiji wide-eyed and nodded. "Go wake the others, he's coming to."

Seiji's stomach jumped into his throat and he lurched clumsily for the exit, spilling the untouched bowl of soup and stumbling in his effort for speed. He began yelling ten yards away from the camp, and by the time he began shaking each of the warriors in turn they had begun to wake. Seiji did not bother to explain the situation, did not so much as address their expressions of confusion, and instead bolted back to the stairs.

When Seiji peered inside he saw that Chiharu had moved away from and was presently staring at Jun, watching intently as the warrior of shadow shifted with discomfort. She pressed a hand against Jun's shoulder to keep him still, and when he grimaced a quiet cry escaped him. As the other troopers peered in over Seiji's head Jun's eyes fluttered open, he blinked against the moonlight, and lay very still.

Jun recognized at once that he was not in a familiar place, and he could not reconcile how he had arrived here. He stared at the ceiling, oblivious to the people beginning to crowd around him, and tried desperately to feel any sensation that his body registered. He had to connect the sensations to reality; he could not get lost in another hallucination. There was pain, overwhelming pain, and cold against his bare chest. His shoulders ached and his lungs burned and rasped with each breath he took. His head throbbed, his vision swam in and out of focus, and each time he blinked he saw visions of the Arbiter poised to strike him dead. If he admitted the truth to himself, he was full of panic, and he was not certain that he could keep it inside.

He drew three deep breaths, intending to calm himself before he sat up, and allowed his eyes to wander around the space. At once his gaze fell upon Seiji and the other troopers who now stood full on in the doorway, and he could not stop his instinctive reaction. His mind blanked and his legs exploded into action, propelling him backward and away from what he believed were threatening visions, and he did not stop until his head connected a wooden pillar with a sickening crack. In one motion he grasped the back of his head and curled his elbows around his face, shielding himself as well as he could from the images. He thought that he could hear himself screaming at them but realized the futility of such action—if the Arbiter was causing him to hallucinate; there was no use in trying to communicate.

Almost at once he felt hands against his skin, pulling at his arms and legs, and the contact sent waves of agony through his body. His muscles tensed against the strain and he screamed over and over again, "No! No!" until his voice was hoarse and his throat stung. But still the hands grasped him and he heard voices crying his name. They sounded concerned—they always sounded concerned—and Jun worked to curl himself into a ball so tiny that they might forget he existed.

"Get away from him!" Chiharu screamed, and at once Shin, Shu, and Toma let go of Jun's arms and legs and watched as the boy drew himself closer to the pillar. His body shuddered and he rocked back and forth with his head cradled in his arms. It seemed to them that their companion had completely lost his mind and had been reduced to a mass of shivering, hyperventilating flesh.

"Stay away from me," Jun sobbed, oblivious to Chiharu's cries, "I gave you what you want! Leave me alone! Let me go! Kill me already!"

The Arbiter's words echoed their response in Jun's head. I will not kill you, he had promised, and Jun believed the oath unbreakable. The spirit had worked tirelessly for days to provide a fate worse than death, had supplied visions of terror and destruction until Jun could not close his eyes without watching someone die. Yet he could not bring himself to open his eyes for fear of what horrors he might face. The Arbiter had been so creative in the scenes that he developed, each one was worse than the last, and all of them involved the slaughter of the other five troopers.

But then he felt a different touch, something soft and smooth against the back of his neck, and though he initially recoiled he eventually gave in to its tenderness. He heard cooing in his ear, a voice that he recognized but could not name, and at length his muscles relaxed and his breathing slowed.

Chiharu had moved close to Jun, had wrapped her arms gently round his trembling frame, and whispered in his ear. "Everything is all right, Jun," she said, and watched the faces of the other troopers for her reassurance. "I don't know what you're seeing, but it's not real. We are all here, you're safe, you're alive, and there is no danger here."

The words repeated over and over until finally Jun peeked meekly at Chiharu's face through a space between his arms, a child sneaking a look at an imposing adult, and she offered him a smile and squeezed his hand firmly. He recognized her at once and was puzzled—she had never appeared in the hallucinations before, he was not even certain that the Arbiter knew what she looked or sounded like. He raised a hand to the back of his head and felt the spot where he had connected with the pillar—it was slick with very real blood—and then placed his bloodstained palm against the ground, where he scraped his fingers over the dirt until he had created deep grooves in the very real earth.

By now, Shin had moved back in and sat behind Jun, watching Chiharu for any signs that he should back away, and when she offered him a nod of approval he placed his hand firmly against Jun's shoulder. Jun looked at him, initially horrified, but then his expression softened and he looked about again, apparently grounded in reality. Then Jun pressed his forehead against his arm, burying his face out of sight.

"Everything is okay," Shin said. "Take your time."

Ϫ

Chiharu breathed deeply and looked between the five troopers with sympathy and understanding. The night prior had been more eventful than anyone had hoped for, and all of their efforts had gone toward pulling Jun from the nightmare in which he was been trapped. Chiharu had explained three times what she believed had happened, and again the others met her diagnosis with heavy skepticism and denial.

"It was a psychotic break," she repeated firmly. "His mind was divorced from reality."

"But how?" Ryo stammered, and his question echoed everyone's concern. Jun had always seemed so emotionally sound, even as a child, that none of the troopers could imagine that he could succumb to any form of insanity. But still, the image of Jun trembling and cowering against figures of his mind was burned into their minds. It unnerved them.

"I want to know what that bastard Arbiter did to him," Shu snapped.

Ryo and Toma exchanged knowing glances. They had heard from Chiharu how Jun reacted to his first hallucination, and the report sounded quite similar to what they had just seen. And Shin had said long before the warriors ever set out on their search that the Arbiter was likely planting ideas in Jun's mind. It was not a far stretch to assume that the spirit might also plant horrifying images.

"Keep in mind that he was terrified when he ran away," Shin reasoned. "He was afraid that we would hurt him for what he did to Nasté."

"It wouldn't be irrational to believe that the Arbiter used Jun's fear against him," Seiji continued in agreement. "What better way to compel someone to submit than by making them believe that their life is in danger."

"What better way to compel Jun to submit than by making him believe that our lives are in danger," Toma grumbled astutely, and the other troopers could not help but agree. "Besides, it wasn't the prospect of his death that scared him. He was worried that we would be hurt, or that we would abandon him."

The troopers fell into silence then, contemplating the accuracy of Toma's observation. They had all seen how Jun had cried the night before. The boy had practically begged for death, and even prior to this episode he often spoke freely of the inevitability of his untimely demise. If any of the troopers had to describe Jun's attitude toward end of life issues they would have said 'comfortable'.

"Regardless," Ryo said finally, "whatever that spirit did, it played a number on Jun."

Indeed, Ryo's words were true. Even as he sat alone under the stairs Jun was working to convince himself that his salvation was real and that he was in no danger, but a nagging fear that something awful would happen tugged at the back of his mind. He had lost count of the number of times that he found comfort in what he saw, only to be surprised by some new and savage vision of death.

Jun could not rationalize why the troopers would care to rescue him. It seemed even by his reckoning that the last months had been an exhibition in terrible decisions which ultimately led him to the situation in which he presently sat, and try as he might he could not reconcile what had driven him to such complete idiocy. He was thankful that they had left him alone long enough to think.

With much effort Jun propped himself up on his elbows and reeled immediately against a sharp pain in his chest that he recognized as a cracked rib—it was not the first time he had suffered such an injury. He surveyed himself with a sigh and closed his eyes before pushing himself fully upright, and even then he was forced to steady himself by leaning against the nearest wooden beam. He knew that he was weak before he had even thought to stand up, there was no questioning that fact, but the warrior had never imagined that he would be so seriously debilitated by his long stay with the Arbiter.

When the world ceased its spinning he wrapped his arms round the pillar on which he rested and pulled himself shakily to his feet. His knees wobbled under his weight and when at last he looked down at himself he was startled and slightly embarrassed at the sight. As someone who took pride in his physical appearance there was no hope in hiding his emaciation. His muscles had begun to atrophy through disuse and starvation, and shadows of his skeleton were visible where a week before had been tone and mass. It was not a wonder that he was having difficulty keeping on his feet. He was far worse off than he had thought.

With a quiet swear Jun began making his way slowly toward the exit. All the while he thought of what he would say to the troopers when he saw them, whether or not he would address his behavior the night before, and how he would react to their comments about his condition. Before he had left them, before he had slapped Nasté, he had played everything off as routine, but now the stakes were much higher. He had to find some way to explain his behavior to his companions so that he didn't sound as insane as he felt.

By the time he reached the exit he felt his breaths coming with difficulty, and he rested against the broken frame and stared out at the group gathered around their campfire. His eyes would not focus against the brightness of the daylight but he was certain that they were speaking together. Their voices carried across the way quietly enough that Jun could not discern anything that they said, but he was sure that they were speaking about him. He looked at the ground and felt himself swoon, exhausted.

"Jun! You shouldn't be up!"

Jun could not hide his relief that Chiharu was safe and apparently concerned for him. He heard her frantic cries clearly, followed by the shuffle of countless feet, and then there were hands pressing against his body, supporting him where he stood. A glance right and Shu stared at him, obviously distressed, and to his left was Toma, who wore the same expression. He placed all his weight on their strong arms and closed his eyes, breathed deeply.

When next he opened his eyes Chiharu was kneeling before him and staring at him severely.

He grinned at her. "I told you I'd be back."

She stood at once, irate, and slapped him so hard that he fell full on into Shu's grasp.

"Whoa!" Toma cried, and he stepped forward to restrain the angry woman. "Calm down, he's wounded!"

"You idiot!" Chiharu cried. "What were you thinking, running off on your own like that! You should have known that there was danger! You should have known that you would be captured!"

Jun looked at her and shrugged meekly. "I didn't really care."

Chiharu was dumbstruck by Jun's nonchalance and she looked between Toma and Shu with a face full of confusion. "You didn't care," she said, her voice full of animosity.

"Do you want me to lie?" Jun spat in reply, and he stood as straight as he could and faced the girl angrily. "Because I'm a damned good liar. I can lie if you want me to."

She slapped him again, and Toma restrained her.

"Let's go take a seat," Shu suggested and did not wait for a response before he ushered Jun delicately to the fire. The boy practically collapsed between Ryo and Shin, and Shu hesitated for a moment. "I'll go find you something to put on; your clothes were pretty well destroyed," he said, and then moved at once to find Jun some clothing.

Jun was truly glad for the gesture; he had never felt so naked in all his life. The troopers stared at him dumbly, and when Chiharu sat across from him he felt her eyes boring into him, judging him. He regretted his flippant rejection of her concern and thought more than once about apologizing. But then Shu came back and dropped a fresh black jumper into his lap, and Jun pulled it over his head without reservation.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Shin asked quietly. Apparently Jun's grimace as he dressed did not go unnoticed.

"I'm fine," Jun said dismissively, and stared resolutely at the ground, uncertain what he should say.

"Are you hungry?"

Now that the topic had been suggested Jun realized that he had not eaten in days, and his stomach ached with want. He looked at Shin, who grinned at him benevolently, and nodded before returning his gaze to the dirt. "But don't give me much," he said. "It's been what—a week? If I eat too much I'll get sick, I'll have no self-restraint when it gets down to food."

Shin patted Jun gently on the shoulder and rose to retrieve some sustenance. The group was silent until he returned moments later with Toma's pack in hand, and he placed the thing before Jun and watched as the boy rummaged through for whatever morsel he could find. Then the trooper of torrent took his seat and glanced expectantly at the others, none of whom were anxious to speak.

"I feel like I needed to have a fucking speech prepared," Jun said mutinously, nervous of the silence, and when he looked up from his meager meal he noted the surprised and angry expressions on the others' faces. Apparently his choice of words had not gone unnoticed either. "I mean, for god's sake, it's like you've never seen a wounded person before. What do you want from me, an apology? Well, I'm sorry I was being ruthlessly manipulated by a malevolent spirit bent on world domination. Are we happy now?"

Ryo covered his face with his hand, embarrassed, and Shin looked away from the boy entirely. Toma and Seiji glanced between Jun and Chiharu, judging her reaction to his words, and Shu joined Jun in admiring the dirt.

"You watch your mouth or I'll let you slap you again," said the kongo quietly, and Jun clenched his jaw in response. It was not often that Shu spoke so seriously. "There's no need for the attitude."

"Shu is right," Shin agreed. "You're out of line, and considering how much explaining you've got to do I'd recommend you mind what you say. To all of us."

There was sudden heat radiating from Jun's stomach and he wondered whether he felt regret or anxiety. His emotions were muddled and if he was honest with himself he knew that he could not control what he said. It was as if the filter between his mind and his mouth had been removed absolutely; everything he thought came out in its purest form before he could think twice about it.

"What do you want me to say, then?"

"Let's start small," Seiji offered after a moment of contemplation. "What do you need to get back to health?"

It was a question that Jun was not prepared to answer. He had expected to be bombarded with questions about how he had been captured, why he ran away to begin with, why he had struck Nasté, and what had motivated him to leave Chiharu behind. The idea of the troopers being concerned for his physical well-being was utterly unexpected.

"I—I don't know," stammered the shadow, and he spoke very quietly thereafter. "Food, shelter, water."

"What do you need to talk about?" Seiji continued.

Jun felt a lump well in his throat and he looked away from Seiji's icy gaze. It was his turn to be embarrassed and surprised by a wave of emotion. "Nothing," he said at length and hoped that the troopers could not hear the quiver in his voice. "I'm fine."

Seiji exchanged a look with the others that asked if he should pursue the point any further. All eyes turned to Ryo, and the wildfire shook his head. Not now, he was saying. There would be time for that kind of inquiry later on; Jun would talk about what had happened when he was ready to talk.

"Where is my kanji orb?" Jun asked.

"We had to get rid of it," Toma replied firmly. "We were overwhelmed by enemies while searching for you, and if we hadn't thrown it aside there's no doubt in my mind that Shin would be dead."

The torrent flushed a bit and nodded, though Jun was not looking at him. Instead the warrior of shadow had turned a furious glare the tenku's way, and Toma felt himself cowering against it.

"You did what?" said Jun, and his voice teetered on the fine line between severe anger and mania.

"We had no choice," Shu said, coming immediately to Toma's defense. "We got rid of it in the tower."

"No choice?" Jun laughed coldly, maniacally. "No choice? Do you have any idea what the implications of your no choice are? Any idea at all?"

Shin and Ryo looked at each other, alarmed by Jun's sudden madness. They readied themselves to restrain him, and when Shin laid a delicate hand on Jun's shoulder he could feel the boy trembling violently beneath his touch. But rather than exploding at the others as was expected, Jun returned his gaze to the ground and looked mortified.

"I want to go home," he said, bordering tears once more. "I want to apologize to Nasté."

"We can't go home yet," Shin replied. "Not until we've gotten rid of the Arbiter and gotten your kanji orb back. Then we'll all go back and talk to Nasté."

Jun looked so coldly at Shin that the torrent removed his hand from Jun's shoulder. "No, we won't," he said. "We won't all go back."