Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Laura Marling's "Alas, I Cannot Swim", her song "You're No God" from said album, nor Eyeshield 21.
Juumonji's face was streaked with dusty tears.
He had pushed away his friends, endured torments unnumbered at the hands of demons and the Old Man himself.
But in front of him was…
"You're no god!" All the voices howled from a whirling mess in the center of the manicured lawn. "You think you've succeeded?" it/they screeched.
"You will never feel quite clean/in this new skin that you have grown/Until you old and broken bones/Are laid into their resting place/Just like the rest of human race." The voice and the demons and his friends and his not-friends all howled at the muddy mess on the park bench that was slowly sitting up and shedding dust and sloughing off crumbs and sheets and flakes of clay.
More tears streaked down Juumonji's face. He clasped the figure to him, brushing the debris away from the face—from the button nose, from the soft cheek, from the fluttering eyelids—tenderly, until sweet, sweet brown eyes rose, regarding him with wonder, with fear, with compassion, with overwhelming joy, with heart-rending grief.
"Sena." Juumonji choked out.
"I will learn to feel quite clean/In this new skin that I have grown/Because our young and healthy bones/Would never lead us astray." Sena voice rasped, mouth and throat dryer than they'd ever been, addressed the vortex of hatred and anger, his eyes never leaving Juumonji's.
"He's no god." Sena admitted, and reached up to stroke Juumonji's face as well, the clay flaking off, leaving only the skin that Juumonji's body and mind had been craving since before Sena had been taking away the first time. "But tonight, he's snatched two souls from your greedy claws."
The enraged howl shook the city, but didn't touch the two figures on the park bench.
Only one more week, lovelies. What am I going to doooooo?