Authors Note: Oh my god. I'm sorry that I've been dead the past... what, months? D: School has really killed my life... and my source of inspiration. I managed to write this one finally, after much despairing (which I hope does not come across in the writing, but sorry, it has not been beta-ed or reread). Because I've already kept you lot waiting long enough, I'll save the rambling for afterwards. Enjoy! -crosses fingers-
The town was dusty and bustling in preparations for the upcoming wedding. The clamor in the streets mfade it hard to hear much save the braying of donkeys and bickering of people, but suddenly, a noise unlike one ever heard before made Daisya stop in his tracks.
"What's wrong?" Marie asked, placing a hand on Daiysa's shoulder.
Daisya shivered.
"Can't you hear it, Marie?" he whispered.
Marie listened, and then his eyes widened.
"I feel like crying."
"That—that is no ordinary noise," Daisya said, moving quickly through the crowd again. "That is pure agony… heartbreak itself incarnated into a sound."
The scream increased in pitch and now the entire mass of people stood still and listened to the cry.
"Wot's that?"
"Somethin' dying, sounds like."
"Oh, what a wretched noise—"
"Wonder what poor thing's makin' that ruckus…"
The torturous noise lasted only a few moments longer, before silencing abruptly in a most disturbing fashion. The people shrugged and shook their heads and continued their lives. Daisya turned to Marie.
"My heart made that sound when the Count slaughtered my father," he explained, as he pushed through the crowd. "The man in black is making it now."
"The man in black?" Marie queried, following after. "How do you know?"
"His true love is marrying another tonight—who else has such a cause for ultimate suffering?"
They followed the direction that the sound had come from all the way into the forest. When they found themselves in a clearing, Marie noticed that the castle was actually quite close.
"Are you sure you heard it this way, Daisya? We must be within the palace grounds…"
"I am positive," Daisya replied firmly.
"Well then, where is he?"
A shriek drew their attention to the small albino man who was now attempting to hide behind a tree.
"You are not M-Master!" the strange one cried, shaking so badly that the wheelbarrow in his hands shuddered with him.
"And who are you?" Daisya asked, raising an eyebrow and drawing his sword. "You work here? Tell me where the man in black is."
"Cell Ro—wait! I-I'm not going to tell you anything!" Roron decided, sticking his chin up in defiance (even though his knees were still clocking together).
"Look, boy. Man. Thing. We can do this the easy way," Daisya took two steps forward and Roron squealed like a pig, "or the hard way." Daisya's sword was at the albino's throat before he'd finished his words.
Cell Roron started wailing. "I'm not saying anything, I don't know anything, Roron knows nothing!"
"Fine then. Marie, I think this one needs to have his memory jogged. Would you?"
Marie strode over and Roron stared up at the giant fearfully.
"Roron knows nothing, Roron knows nothing," he chanted, voice getting progressively higher.
"We'll see about that," Daisya smiled. "Go on, Marie."
The giant curled his hand into a fist and let it drop on to Roron's head. Maybe a bit too hard. The albino jailer's eyes rolled back and he slumped forward onto the ground.
"…a little less force next time, okay?" Daisya suggested.
"Sorry, Daisya. I won't do that again, no way." After chuckling a little at his rhyme, Marie refocused. "So now how are we going to find him?"
Daisya sank to his knees.
"Daisya—?"
"Ssh!" After a moment of prayer, Daisya pulled out his father's sword and held it with clasped hands towards the sunlight. "Father… I am so close to avenging you… to putting us both at rest. Please help me. I know I have failed you for all these years… forgive me and guide me…"
He stood, holding the sword out before him against the light. The steel cast rays around them, but did nothing that signified some spiritual influence. Daisya closed his eyes and began stumbling around the clearing, moving the sword in every direction, waiting for some sort of sign.
"Please," he cried through gritted teeth. "Please, you have to—"
Marie sighed and Daisya opened his eyes, standing face to face with a particularly gnarled tree. He groaned and raised his hand.
"No!" As he shouted he brought a fist down upon the tree, upon a certain knot on the tree that caused a certain Secret Door to slide open.
The two stared at the newly discovered entrance for a moment.
"Go figure," Marie whispered, murmuring a quick prayer himself.
"Wow. Did Daisya's father's ghost really help him?" The boy asked. "I thought you said ghosts didn't exist!"
"Maybe. Or maybe Daisya was still a little drunk. The world may never know." The boy nodded like he understood. "Oh, and kiddo?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't do drugs."
Marie and Daisya hurried down, down, down. They passed various levels filled with foul creatures and fouler stenches; filled with freakish plants and the hum of insects. Down they went until they reached the very last level, a pit—the Pit of Despair.
A strange machine sat in the corner but they paid it no heed, for there, lying on a wooden stretcher, was the one they had been searching for.
"He's dead," Marie declared sadly.
"Wait! You mean he's faking, right? Kanda's not really dead, right?"
"I mean what I say," the man replied. "Now shall I keep reading—"
"But who gets Prince Tyki?"
"Excuse me?"
"Who saves Allen and kills Prince Tyki? Is it Daisya?" the boy persisted.
"…no one. Prince Tyki doesn't die."
"You mean he wins?" the child spluttered. "Why did you tell me something like this?!"
"You're taking this story far more seriously than I imagined," the man made to stand. "I think we should stop."
"No! No…I'm…I'm okay. Keep going," the boy tugged the man's sleeve. "Just…keep going."
"Hmm…fine. So Daisya turned to Marie with a determined look that outshone his desperation."
"Then only one man can help us now."
They took Kanda's body all the way up and out of the Pit and out of the Zoo. Daisya didn't say where they were going, but Marie had always trusted his friend and so would trust him now. When they reached a small, rather shabby looking shack, Daisya pounded on the flimsy front door.
"Miracle Man! Miracle Man, are you there?"
"The name's Bookman now, you idiot!" came the cantankerous reply. A slot in the door opened and a pair of beady old eyes glared at them. "And what the hell do you want?"
"Are you the same Miracle Man who worked for the king all those years?" Daisya questioned breathlessly.
"…yes," snapped the man. "And then he fired me on a whim of the Prince's. Thank you so much for bringing up that humiliating event- would you like to give me a paper cut and squeeze some lemon juice on it too?"He slammed the slot shut.
Daisya knocked—if such fervent banging could be called knocking—again.
The slot opened and the distinctly annoyed face appeared once more.
"Desist in your actions or I'll call…the Brute Squad!"
"I'm on the Brute Squad," Marie commented with a smile.
"…you are the Brute Squad," Bookman replied with raised eyebrows.
"Miracle Ma—Bookman. We need a miracle." Daisya begged.
"I'm retired," Bookman grumbled. "And besides, why would you want the help of someone who got fired by the Prince? I'm obviously not up to par. I might kill whoever you want miracled instead."
"He's already dead."
Bookman's eyes widened. "Oh." He coughed. "Bring him in, I guess."
The interior of the place was possibly shabbier than the exterior, which was quite a feat considering the place appeared as though too large an exhale from Marie would send it toppling. The roof of sticks and hay allowed a decent amount of light to flood inside, but instead of making the place glow or look inviting, it caught the copious amounts of dust in the air and made resting bugs buzz to life and rocket around the limited space. There was a single table in the middle of the room, and various satchels and bags and jars filled with unknown objects lined the single countertop.
"Put him down on the table, then," Bookman ordered, carefully putting his faded orange patch of hair up into a ponytail that looked quite fluffy. When Kanda was situated properly, the older man lifted his arm, examined it, and let it drop. Loudly. "He's dead alright."
"Then there is no hope?" Daisya asked, shaking Bookman's shoulders. Bookman lifted Daisya's hands off with his thumb and forefinger with a disgusted look.
"Refrain from touching me, if you please. And I didn't say that. I've seen worse." At Marie and Daisya's disbelieving faces, Bookman rolled his eyes. "He's only mostly dead."
"Mostly dead…?"
"Never mind that. You have money?"
"Just this," Daisya produced a small pouch.
"I never worked for so little," Bookman scoffed at the pittance of payment. "Only once, and that was for a very noble cause."
"This is for a noble cause too," Daisya pressed. "His wife is a cripple, he has seventeen children, all starving. And a dog, also."
"Well aren't you a rotten liar?" Bookman laughed dryly.
Daisya tried again. "I need him to avenge my father, who was murdered before my eyes twenty years ago."
"Your first story was better," the miracle worker remarked, turning to scan his countertop. "Now where did I put those bellows…I bet this guy owes you two money," he continued, lifting a very old bellows out of the dust. "I guess I'll just ask him."
"Ask him? How? He's dead, he can't talk."
"Look who thinks he's a genius all of a sudden," Bookman pursed his already thin lips. "Did you not hear me before, idiot? He's only mostly dead. Which is different from all dead," he placed the bellows between Kanda's teeth. "When a man is all dead, there's only one thing you can do."
"What's that?"
"Go through his pockets and look for loose change," Bookman deadpanned. "But if he's mostly dead, it means he's partly alive." He moved the bellows three times before removing them. He bent down to Kanda's ear with a murmured, "And the million dollar question is…" and then yelled: "You! What's the thing most important to you? What do you have here that's worth living for?"
With that he pushed down on Kanda's chest. Lo and behold, as the air passed betwixt Kanda's lips, words followed. "True love."
Although it sounded more like 'true blub' to be honest, it was close enough.
"There! True love— you cannot ask for a more noble cause than that!" Daisya exclaimed.
"True love is indeed the noblest cause," Bookman agreed. "But that's not what he said! He distinctly said to bluff! Which means you three hooligans were probably playing cards when he—"
"Liar!" a screech sounded from above. A young man fell through the roof and landed in the middle of the room, pointing an accusing finger at Bookman. "You old panda-faced liar!"
"Back to the cellar with you, brat!" Bookman shouted, grabbing the young man's finger and twisting it a way that made him wince and struggle.
"A-Admit it you panda," the younger continued. "Ever since you got fired you lost all your confidence! You lost your spunk!"
"Stop talking this instant unless you want outhouse duty for the rest of your life!"
"Just because Tyki—"
"Lavi, don't you dare say that name!" Bookman hollered. There was now a glint in the younger's eye.
"What, Tyki? Tyki, Tyki, Tyki, Tyki, Tyki!"
"Quiet, you moronic apprentice! I told you never to utter such profanity in my presence!"
"What are you going to do about it, you damn panda-faced geezer?!"
Bookman kicked his apprentice in the face.
"Oi!" Daisya slammed a fist down on the table to get the bickering family's attention. (Which was probably not a good idea, considering how unstable the thing was, but then, Daisya had already used up his good-idea quota for the day.) "You hate the prince, right? Well, this guy is Allen's lover—you know, the prince's bride? If you revive him, he's going to steal Allen away, and that'll really piss off Tyki!"
"Will it now?" Bookman removed his foot from Lavi's nose with a ponderous look.
"If you're anything more than a decrepit old man, you'll save this guy!" Lavi put in his two cents in a nasally voice as he cradled his sore face. "Fuck, I think you broke my nose…"
"Shut up, fool," Bookman retorted, connecting his heel to Lavi's abused head. "You were saying?"
"Er, yes. Utter embarrassment too- plenty of humiliation," Daisya added.
"Now that is the real noblest cause of all!" Bookman proclaimed with a positively evil cackle. "Lavi, get off your lazy ass and bring me the chocolate."
"My lazy ass? I don't wanna hear that from you—" Lavi began.
"Go, go, go!" Daisya urged. "Please!"
"I'm gone, man!"
A few moments later, Bookman produced a small ball coated in chocolate.
"Behold, a miracle pill."
"What's the chocolate for?"
"To make it go down easier," Lavi answered. "Now it'll take fifteen minutes to work fully—"
"And he can't go swimming for at least an hour afterwards."
"Thank you for everything," Daisya clasped Bookman's hands and bowed.
"Yes, yes."
Marie scooped up Kanda's mostly-dead body and they took their leave.
"Have fun storming the castle!" Lavi called after them. When they were out of earshot he turned to Bookman. "You think it'll work?"
"It would take a miracle."
A/N: I'll freely admit, I've always wanted to hear Bookman say "Shut up, foo'!"
I'll also say that I love Lavi in this chapter. More than anyone else, except maybe Cell Roron because holy jamoca shake is that jailer fun stuff to write! :D
This chapter follows the movie more closely than the others, I think, mainly because I didn't really like all the stuff that happened with Fezzik and Inigo in the zoo in the book... . Eheh.
On a more...morose note... Sugar Free is on an undetermined hiatus. :( I seem to have lost my track and plan and inspiration for that one, I'm sorry.
BUT. I will finish this fic, mark my words!
I'm leaving to go out of country next week, but I believe I'll have internet access so I shall try and update a bit quicker than this time around.
Much love to all of you who are still reading this! I reread all of your lovely reviews and they motivated me to keep writing! :3