A/N:

Hails: And now the plot thickens.

Also, the answer to my question last chapter. Yukio's favorite animal is a penguin! This is on his wiki trivia and I squealed when I saw it.

Side note: Fox Populi, I may or may not have referenced your artwork in this chapter. *whistles distractedly*

I disregard any claims to the characters, setting, or plot of Blue Exorcist/青の祓魔師, which are a property of the mangaka Kazue Kato. I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

"Once the soul awakens, the search begins and you can never go back. From then on, you are inflamed with a special longing that will never again let you linger in the lowlands of complacency and partial fulfillment. The eternal makes you urgent. You are loath to let compromise or the threat of danger hold you back from striving toward the summit of fulfillment."

- Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom, John O'Donohue.

He was drowning in his own blood.

'Breathe... breathe...' They told him.

How could he breathe when the taste and smell and metallic feel suffocated him, asphyxiated his lungs? It was so difficult to even inhale, exhale when his mouth was flooded with his own bodily fluids. The liquid spilled past his lips and teeth and he bent over, heaving and hacking miserably, wheezing and panting shakily.

"Sir. Sir!" Hotaru called for him, kneeling down and supporting his weight. She rubbed his back soothingly and helped him shift positions. "Lord Lucifer, breathe. We must move you to the elixir room."

Lucifer didn't allow himself any attachments aside from Hotaru. His trust in her was unwavering for she had never once betrayed him or been tempted by the thought of betrayal. As an omniscient being, he knew this and he knew that she knew this. She was just as dedicated to this war as he was. The revival of Satan and the assembly of his Demon Eater military was essential to recreate Assiah in his image.

He let Hotaru half-carry half-walk him to a hospital like room. He would take a whiff of the bitter disinfectant and medical supplies if his nose weren't so clogged with blood. He heard the creaking of the cot and felt how it sank as he laid down. There was a slight stinging in his wrists and up along his spine as Hotaru began the procedures and beckoned a multitude of other doctors who attended to him as soon as possible.

The tubes in his throat and syringes gave sharp pinpoint dots in every direction his central nervous system ran. It was a small price to pay for a healthy body and he was willing to suffer it, for every test that was done, every time he allowed himself to be healed, was another step closer to obtaining the Elixir of Life. Immortality would be delivered unto him soon.

His vision and lungs were shortly cleared and his health returned, allowing him to sit up.

"I apologize," He whispered. His voice was soft and sultry, entrancingly wonderful to listen to. "I must have worried you."

"Please, sir," Hotaru murmured a response, faithful hand over her heart. "I am just glad to see that you are now... well."

Lucifer nodded, silently approving of his second in command's choice of words. "How is the search for Yukio Okumura faring?"

"Tōdō is scouring True Cross for signs of him as we speak," Hotaru answered, standing in a powerful, respectful way. "We have had no update on either of the twins' locations. However, he has directed us towards a newscasting in the media. Apparently, Lord Samael, your brother, had an 'anonymous' attempt on his life. They're blaming us for it and while I do not believe anyone among us would be foolish enough to commit such an atrocity, I would not put it past any of our more recently acquired members."

"I see," Lucifer mused, deep in thought. "And?"

"It seems the accident acted in our favor despite the culprit because Okumura was framed for the crime," Hotaru continued, eyes drifting over her superior's form in contemplation. "We had hoped to make a move on the boy to recruit him but it seems Rin Okumura managed to act quicker. He has broken the target out of his prison. His ties to his brother are far stronger than we originally thought."

Lucifer hummed but didn't respond.

"My Lord, what shall you have us do?"

"Nothing for the moment," He commanded, outstretching a hand. "Continue with your research on constructing father's host body. Let Tōdō handle the search for my youngest brother. We will be idle in the meantime. Drawing too much attention to ourselves in the last possible thing we can do before father's resurrection. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" His doctors, bodyguards, and second hand all chanted unanimously.

The crowd thinned, people trickling out bit by bit until Lucifer was alone with only his second hand. His feline-like eyes narrowed, head dipping and lips frowning.

"Wherever you are, Yukio Okumura," He said softly but dominantly. "I will find you. You will be mine."

Everyone gaped at their surroundings, surroundings that illumined and was soft like the plump cheeks of an ivory-skinned girl-the apple of everyone's eyes. Shiemi dropped any of what she had at her sides and bounded forward like a skittish bunny, turning around in awe-struck circles.

'I'm here...' She marveled. She shrugged off her socks and shoes as quickly as possible, feeling the grass between her toes and the smell of dirt and floral goodness. It was a blessing on her senses. Her eyes stung and hot, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. 'I'm really here. The Garden of Amahara!'

"Whoa, Shiemi!" Rin gawked, rushing over to comfort her. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Nothing..." Shiemi said, voice high pitched and broken. "It's just... I can't believe I'm actually standing here. Right now! In this garden, where everything grows and- and it's peaceful and- and beautiful. I'm- I'm so happy!"

"Ooooooh, yeah," Rin trailed off in understanding. "You talked about this once before. The Garden of Amahara, right?"

Rin paused, letting Shiemi aborn the grandeur of it all. And not just her, really. Every one of his classmates was entitled to Amahara's magnificence. Rin could feel its aura seep through the ground, traversing the soil like a network of roots that interconnected at one point, spreading outward from there. Deep in his core, he could bear a desire that tied a leash around his neck and guided him towards the source. He had never experienced such an overwhelming sense of peace.

Somewhere behind them, the door clicked, making Rin whip around. The door was gone. He swallowed a growing lump in his throat.

'This is good,' Rin reminded himself, pulling at the collar of his hoody. 'We're stowed away and can't be found. As long as we're here, we're safe.'

Although Rin couldn't help but feel a foreboding sense of uneasiness, like an unseen army hiding behind the horizon ready to strike when the right opportunity arrived. He tossed a glance behind himself, eyes tracing his brother, who was composed like a shy schoolgirl. His heart ached for Yukio especially when he seemed so guilty, nervous, and devoid of all previous confidence.

The confidence of a teacher.

Rin huffed a defeated sigh and dropped his duffle bag and groceries onto the grassy floor. He pivoted, strolled to Yukio's side. "Hey, don't start pussyfooting. I need you, everyone here needs you."

Yukio scoffed, hurling his brother a look—the look. It was one they shared and had become accustomed to with each other. 'Done.' It usually screamed. 'Done, frustration, try harder, unimpressed. Defeat.'

"Listen, Yukio," Rin mumbled, making eye contact with Yukio. "I get it. I do. But please, don't go AWOL on me. You're the whole reason we're here in the first place. You've been our leader for so long. Don't give up now."

"I..." Yukio trailed off, trying to think of the words and expression falling further. "I'm tired. I just want to rest."

"Ah, depression then," Rin surmised, biting his lip. "Been there. Done that. Dad's death was hard."

Yukio whirled to face his brother rather abruptly, mouth parted and stare intent, curious. Rin shot him a cocky grin, the one he did when he was planning something; when the lightbulb in his head flicked on. He had an idea.

"It's okay if you want to step down for a bit," Rin assured his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll take the reigns from here. No problem."

"Rin, I hate to break it to you but you have literally zero leadership skills,"

"Hey, I got everyone this far." Still optimistic, was Rin. "I've got something. Heart. Passion. Which is what you don't have at the moment. It's okay if you need to take the time to regain that emotion again, I'll be with you every step of the way."

"You will?"

"Hell yeah, dude. I'm not letting go this time."

Some part of Yukio was comforted by this. Maybe hope wasn't lost after all.

"YOOOOOO WE GOT WIFI!" Shima cheered at the top of his lungs. He threw his hands up, doing a happy dance that resembled a certain comic-cartoon canine. He unlocked his phone, opening up the internet. "And the service is great!"

"It's amazing how low your standards are, Shima," Konekomaru quipped disapprovingly. He tipped his glasses down, making a face that could only be described as 'really? Really?!' "Though I wonder if it's for the sake of having a connection to the Illuminati or torrenting porn."

"How can you think so low of me, Koneko?!" Shima whined, forming fake crocodile tears at the corners of his eyes.

"Hoi, spy," Suguro said, kicking the back of Shima's legs testily. ("Ack!") "Give me your phone."

"Pardon?!" Shima exclaimed defensively.

"You heard me," Suguro repeated.

"I'm not gonna torrent porn!"

"That's not what I want it for, ya dumbass. I don't want you talking to the Illuminati and telling them where we are. We're on the run for a reason."

"You're cruel," Shima mewled pitifully.

"I'm being reasonable," Suguro corrected. "Besides, you have Yamantaka if you want to entertain yourself."

"You say that like Yamantaka is actually someone to persuade into casual conversation," Shima said bitterly, reluctantly forking over his only technological connection. "But fine. If you don't trust me, I'll give you my damn phone."

Suguro made a smug face and Shima had to try really hard not to brandish the Wisdom King as a weapon against his closest friend. Obligation and genetic ties sucked in his opinion but really, what else he could do? Earning their trust back he knew wouldn't be an easy feat. Even then Shima supposed he still cared about them enough for Ryūji Suguro and Konekomaru Miwa for them to be a priority. It's as the saying goes: "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

"Thank you." Suguro slipped the phone into his pocket, careful to zip it up and make it hard to get to. "Sorry, Shima but this is both for your own good and for the good of the group."

"Yeah, whatever," Shima muttered nonchalantly. "So what next?"

"Whatever Okumura decides," Suguro replied. He glimpsed over at the way Rin seemed to be comforting his brother. He breathed out, forcing himself to not catch a pocket of air in his throat as the memory. The cold, unforgiving muzzle of a gun, pointed directly underneath his chin, safety off and finger on the trigger. He shivered at the thought. Just the reminder that Mr. Okumura was a skilled and trained mercenary made him uneasy. "I suppose we'll probably set up camp or start traveling upstream if we can find one."

"Are we really following him?" Shima inquired lazily, placing his hands behind his head. "I mean, not that I'm opposed but... he's never exactly been the leader type."

"Maybe not but I'm willing to give him a shot." Ryūji collected himself, smoothing out the folds of his jacket. He waved a 'see ya' to his friends, who continued squabbling over Shima's potential alliance. "I'm gonna go talk to him. Behave."

Izumo blinked once, twice, thrice, staring precociously as Shiemi fell back on a nearby flowerbed. The same girl had been rolling in the grass just moments prior and her smile was large and bright enough to illuminate an entire city and a night sky. Her laughter was like sunshine, falling from the sky in golden drops like syrup and the gleam in her eyes was reminiscent of bluebells and honeysuckles. Shiemi popped up from the pile of flowers, giggling lightly.

"Isn't it amazing, Izumo?" She beamed. "Everything is so amazing. The sights, the smells, the tastes!"

The young, former shrine maiden could only look on in confusion. Sure, the garden was beautiful but Izumo had grown up where farms and agriculture were common ground, where most days she could look out the window of her home or school and count the wide, spanning fields of golden-green rice plants and still not see all of Shimane.

"Sure, I guess," Izumo said dubiously. "Not to sound uninterested or dumb but, what's so special about this place?"

"You don't know about the Garden of Amahara?" Shiemi queried. She hopped to her feet, brushing the leftover greenery from her clothes and stumbled over the foliage to take Izumo's hand. "That's okay! I'll tell you!"

"Um... okay?"

"The Garden of Amahara is a place in Assiah, here, where all plant life that possibly exists grows and flourishes," Shiemi explained, holding a finger up and pointing to a nearby wisteria tree. "It was supposedly made possible by an angel's will, however, it's actually unknown what mystical creature created it. Just that whatever it was made this all possible."

"Every plant?" Izumo ogled, squeezing Shiemi's hand.

"Yep, every single one!" The gardener squeezed back. "Even cacti and desert shrubs to mangroves and mango trees to ground-dwelling plants like mint and dogweed and death caps."

"Death caps?" Izumo stood stock still, appalled at the suggestion. "Like, poisonous mushrooms?"

"Yep," Shiemi chirped. "I guess it's kind of good people like me and Yuki are here. So many plants look alike that you might get them mixed up. I can teach you some things if you want."

"Yuki, huh?" Izumo was snagged on her teacher's name. She kept forgetting Shiemi had such a fondness for the instructor. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"Well, yeah." Shiemi moved her hand away, leaving both of them cold and feeling forgotten. "Yuki was... my first friend. And I know some of the things he said or did are... are not good. I know he's the reason Rin wanted to leave the Order in the first place." Izumo studied Shiemi's facial features, the way the space between her eyebrows wrinkled and how sorrowful her pout was. "But... but he means a lot to me. I haven't been forceful enough with him and... and being gentle won't get me anywhere anymore. If... if I want to see him get better like Rin does, then I have to try harder."

Shiemi stood tall again, letting a determined expression cross her. "I'm not going to give up on him."

She remembered, even if it was just for a moment, what Rin had said to her while Yukio had been resting.

"He's not well," Rin pointed out, pushing around pieces of chopped vegetables in a sauteé pan. "And he's been trying so hard to cover it up. He's so good at pretending that he's... not sick, that I... that standing on the sidelines isn't an option. It was never an option and yet I chose to do it. What kind of brother am I to ignore his misery?"

Shiemi's eyes gleamed like she was on the verge of tears. "He's sick?"

"Sort of, it's a different kind of sickness. A mental illness. I was talking to one of his doctors the other day and they said he'd been diagnosed with... some kind of depression. I didn't get the specifics but they gave me a pill bottle and advised I had him start taking them. I didn't exactly get around to it though, huh?" Rin sighed dejectedly. "The therapist said I should be wary and try to support him in any way I can, so, watch me. Watch me do what it takes."

"I wanna help!" Shiemi piped up. "I... I want to help Yuki!"

"Then all you need to be is support." Rin grinned.

"I want to help," Shiemi whispered the echoes of her reminiscence. It was something so doux, so naive and innocent, with a lack of understanding of just how great this big ball of tangled emotions and bitterness was within her friend's chest and mind. She opened her mouth to say something again but was cut off by the sound of Konekomaru's voice over the valley.

"Guys, come quick!" He shouted. "We found a stream, we're going to follow it!"

"Oh, uh, come on, Izumo!" Shiemi made a large beckoning gesture, then went off in the direction of her classmates, not checking to see if Izumo was following close behind (she was).

The water was cool both in countenance and the shallow feel of it swallowing wrists. Rin took a deep breath, feeling the flow of the stream. It was narrow, babbling and bubbling and driven by rocks and pebbles.

"Look at how clean this is," Rin commented. "I think this stuff might even be drinkable." He cleared his throat. "This water has to originate from somewhere. A spring or a pond or a waterfall, even if it's just something small. If we follow it, we'll find the source and hopefully stable camping ground. What do you guys think?"

"You don't need approval from us, Okumura," Said Suguro. His hands were burrowed his jacket, which seemed unnecessary in the moderate temperature.

Rin swallowed, anxious and wringing his hands together. 'Deep breath, show some confidence.' He pointed up the slope.

"Alright then, upstream we go."

Mephisto moaned and whimpered pitifully, snuggling into his Unico plushy. Belial, ever loyal and at Mephisto's side, replaced the cold compress soothing his master's aching head. In front of him, the "intense" episode of Gatto the Great from the night before was replaying for the fiftieth time in the early hours of the morning.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Belial," Mephisto sobbed. He sniffled, blowing his nose into a tissue.

"I suppose, be unable to take care of yourself, sir?" Belial tried cautiously.

"By Heavens, you're right!" Mephisto exclaimed, waving a hankie around. "Thank you so much, I should give you a raise!"

"You don't pay me, sir," Belial responded.

Mephisto frowned at that. "Oh, well, sorry." He coughed. "Anyway, have I received any calls, texts, emails, etc. about current events?"

"Yes, sir. They're on your phone. I have reviewed them per your request last night. Which ones would like to hear?"

"The ones concerning Vatican and True Cross Order protocol, anything having to do with the events since my... shooting."

"You have ten total messages concerning them, would you prefer to hear the one from Shura Kirigakure or Arthur Auguste Angel?"

"Angel, please."

"It's mostly just a lot of angry caps lock but the summary of it is that the whole class of exwires has disappeared as well as both your charges, the sons of Satan."

"Ugh, finally," Mephisto groaned, rolling his eyes. "It's about time. I thought they'd never get out of my hair. I deserve a vacation."

"Indeed, sir." Belial nodded, wiping his hands on the rag hanging off his arm, as a butler should. He wouldn't mind a vacation either. But for now, it seemed his break would consist of taking care of his master, who was both injured, sick, and delirious. Maybe even a bit wistful. "Would you like to hear another message?"

Mephisto grumbled, considering the choices before opting out. "No, thank you, Belial. I would like to be left alone for a bit."

"As you wish, sir."

The door clicked as Belial left, leaving Mephisto to nestle further into his mountain of warm pillows and duvets. His eyes felt heavy and his vision was blurry, he was healing but at an agonizingly slow rate. Even when among the plushes and stuffed animals there were countless medications and herbs, both Assiahn and Gehennan materials alike. He wanted to get back to playing puppetmaster, to actually spending his time in worthwhile conducts. He grumbled slightly, squeezing his eyes shut.

The image of a man appeared to him, a man he'd known for years. He was tall and slim and had the best smile and the most mischievous eyes. He always had his hands on his hips like he was commanding a militia. That was power at it's finest, a power that Mephisto was incapable of manipulating. It was invigorating, fun to toy with and entertaining in infinite ways. And yet he could still picture the way the blue flames wreathed about him and the rough droll tainted by a demon.

Mephisto tried not to open his eyes when the edge of his bed sunk down with a weight. He could feel the ethereal presence. Mephisto didn't feel like getting his hopes up. But he couldn't help but sate his curiosity and he chuckled at the vision before him.

"You know, you make a pretty cute nurse," Mephisto said charmingly, ditzy and desperate.

"I'm gonna pretend that's the head would talking, you old goat."

"You call me 'old' yet I don't have a single wrinkle on me, unlike you."

"Try saying that when you see the bags under your eyes," Shirō muttered, absently checking Mephisto's forehead as if he were testing one of his children for a fever. "Really, you act as though it's because I haven't raised a couple of Satan's hooligans for fifteen years."

Mephisto chuckled. "I thought they were your children,"

"They are," Shirō corrected himself. "I became their father, they became my kids. I made sure of that."

"Yes, you were quite the daddy in the time you were alive," Mephisto murmured teasingly.

"And you're hallucinating."

"I know, that's why I'll treasure this as long as possible."

Shura was floating in an eternal darkness, where her childhood memories accompanied by the rhythmic ticking of music box chimes and the chimes of a nun's convent haunted her. She remembered the way she had been discarded like waste in a trash bin despite the tears she shed and the screams that ripped her throat to shreds.

"Shirō! Come back!"

He never came back.

Shiver, shake, quiver, quake, breaths drawn from her lungs like she was being held underwater while she thrashed about. Her mind was so misty and her thoughts so clouded with urgency, she forgot for a moment what exactly it was she was fighting for. It was just herself, her life, the way she grappled with it like something wet and slippery that kept pulling from her grasp. Frustrating.

"What do you want, Shura?"

The voice was in her head, soft and bitter and vaguely annoyed. She'd recognize that tone from a certain scaredy-four-eyes anywhere.

"I've hated you since the day I met you."

God, she could remember, she hadn't laughed so hard in years. Not even with Rin's unholy shrieking when she ran her katana through his shoulder-chest area. She made Yukio open up a little and it was so worth it; so worth it to hear every word, every disdainful word he had to say about her. It was so unlike him, so different and unexpected. But beautiful in its own horrific way.

Kind of like his eyes.

"Yukio..." Shura thought aloud. She wasn't sure if it was only her thoughts she was listening to or her own voice saying it where she could hear it. "I worried about you. I guess that's what all my teasing and taunting was for. I guess that's why I was fighting in the first place, because of you and your brother. You're such a chicken. Damn... I guess I didn't try hard enough, huh?

"Won't you... give me a second chance?"

Shura inhaled sharply, groaning when everything returned to her. She resisted the urge to sit up, not wanting to test her luck or her stomach's ability to hold back the bile climbing her throat. With a hiss of breath, she worked her eyes open and took in the bright surroundings.

'A hospital room?'

"You're awake," A deep, harsh yet smooth voice roused her slightly and making her groan. "I'm glad. Lightning was worried about you."

"I couldn't imagine why." Shura groused. 'Not this asshole, please.' A part of her wanted to curl into a ball in the light sheet over her frame and go back to her dark slumber. "He's been imprisoned. You would know that you're his guard, Osceola."

Osceola Redarm was a friggin mountain, Shura could swear this on her predecessor's graves. And she wasn't complaining, at least not physiologically. He was tall, robust, had the tan of an Aztec god, with piercing dark eyes and a strong jawline. He was the intimidating type, which was precisely why Shura was complaining. Or at least why she was going to start.

"Please, spare the familiarities," Shura said, trying to carefully bring herself up. "Why are you really here?"

If Osceola was shocked or taken aback by the woman's 'get-to-the-point' attitude, he didn't show it. "I wanted to ask what connection you had to the exwire fugitives."

Shura made a noise in the back of his throat, expressing both her disinterest and unwillingness to cooperate. She couldn't control what Osceola asked her but she could certainly control her answers. With an irritated heaving breath and one final push into a sitting position, she gestured to him.

"Alright then,"She articulated carefully with the gesture of her hand. "I'm their mentor. I teach swordsmanship and magic circles and seals."

"That's all?" Osceola cocked an eyebrow, arms crossed over his broad chest. He didn't seem convinced and Shura knew he wasn't. "According to the knowledge Angel provided me with, I thought you had a deeper connection to the Okumura twins. That Yukio, I was told."

"I know them better than the rest of the class," Shura corrected, sending her senior a callous look. "I know Yukio a bit more because Shirō Fujimoto-" She enunciated her old teacher's name carefully, pausing with the sentence. "-Introduced me to him when he was just a wee baby. Seven-years-old, was it? It's been so long I can barely remember."'

"Ms. Shura, please take this seriously," Osceola reprimanded.

"Listen, buddy," Shura began, scowl hardening to something more profuse and protective. "First off, it's none of Angel's business how close I am to Yukio and Rin. Whatever he may have told you wasn't his information to share. Second, so what if I am close to them? My loyalty lies with the twins and if you violate their rights to express their bitterness over the unjustified behavior the Order shows in the day to day activities exorcists display, then we're gonna have a problem.

"Yukio did not shoot Mephisto, I will forever stand by that statement. The real culprit is out there, doing God knows what under God knows whose orders and your search for the exwires should be second priority."

"Ms. Shura-"

"I will find the exwires," Shura concurred, eyes narrowing in a wager placed against the Arc Knight. Would he challenge her back? Was he threatened by her timbre and adamant vocalization of the situation at hand? She couldn't tell and maybe she didn't want to find out. Her focus was solely on the brats and protecting their freedom, regardless of what they may have done. "They are my responsibility."

Shura didn't spare Osceola a moment to speak. "Besides, I'm pretty good at finding people."

"Dad..." Yukio trailed off. He was so frail and weak, so small and so young. So undeserving of his cruel fate. His large, bright eyes gazed up at the man he called 'father.' It wasn't a complaint or something so simple as he walked side by side to the monastery that was home to them. "Why was I born?"

"Ara, ara, you're asking such complicated questions for an eight-year-old," Shirō chided exhaustedly. His body was weary and old, not as young as it used to be. Eight years of handling the twins rearing had confirmed that much. "I'll tell you when you're older."

"Why can't I know now?" Yukio inquired. His sweater and undershirt were soaked through with sweat after one of the most rigorous training exercises in his life. A child medic on the field had come as a surprise to everyone.

Shirō only smiled, bending down to ruffle Yukio's hair affectionately. "I wouldn't worry about it for now. You'll understand one day."

A/N:

Hails: Aaaaaaaand, that concludes chapter 2. I was hoping to make this chapter longer but it seems I didn't quite get around to it. But I barely reached the 5000-word quota (unfortunately including author's notes, whoops~).

Next chapter: Rin tries his hand at leadership annnnnnd things don't turn out quite the way he was expecting. Jeez, it's like he's herding squirrels. What is he, a mom? "Izumo, stop bickering with Suguro, you're giving me a headache! Shima, if you don't get your paws off Yukio at this very moment I will slaughter you! Shiemi, stop running off to look at every damn flower you see, they aren't that important. Can't you all be like Konekomaru?!"

Stay savvy, my friends.

~Hails