The dice stopped for a moment before toppling and displaying six white dots. Renzuo Shima sighed and closed his eyes. With a crack, a fist connected with his jaw and sent him tumbling backwards. Sprawled on the ground Shima lay winded. When he opened his eyes The Duke was standing over him, a long string of saliva hanging from his mouth. It swung inches from Shima's face, a putrid yellow colour. The Duke slurped it back up and shook his head.
"I'm a nice guy," he said, kicking Shima in the ribs. Shima doubled over in pain, curling into a ball on his side. He wheezed as The Duke punched him in the shoulder. "I'm a nice guy, but I've got my limits, buddy. You keep fucking with me, Shima. That's not gonna fly."
The Duke spit all the mucus he could muster into Shima's faded hair. It had been pink once, but now it was a dirty mess of dark to dusty rose tips. The Duke's tobacco venom dripped down Shima's forehead and he wiped it from his eyebrows.
"I can get money," he said, propping himself on his elbow. "Probably."
The Duke laughed himself into a coughing fit. Shima flinched as he felt his bruised ribs. At least he wasn't bleeding. Bleeding was obvious and obvious would get him in trouble when he got back home. Well, at this point it was more of an if he got back home. The Duke flicked his wrist and a blade shot out.
"I'm tying up loose ends, Shima. Cutting my losses." The Duke sniffed and stepped forward, twirling the blade. "Too bad for you."
"Please." Shima couldn't keep the pathetic whine out of his voice. "I have a family. I have people I need to take care of."
"They aren't your concern right now, trust me."
Shima staggered to his feet as The Duke approached. He was backed into the end of the alley, surrounded by garbage and cardboard boxes. It stank and he was going to die in this stink. All over a stupid game of dice. All because he had no self control. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, stinging as they salted open wounds. Funny. He was bleeding. At least now he wouldn't get in trouble for it.
"Renzuo."
Shima froze, his stomach dropping, heartbeat slowing to a crawl. It was like being injected with a tranquilizer just hearing that voice again. He stared over The Duke's shoulder at the figure standing at the opposite end of the alleyway. They were hooded, it was impossible to see their face, but Shima could already picture it. The forehead creased in a scowl, mouth set in a rigid line.
"Suguro..." There was a hitch in Shima's voice as The Duke's blade dug into his stomach. He twisted the knife, tearing up Shima's insides. Blood seeped through Shima's shirt, dripped to a pool around his feet. His sight began to fade, he collapsed to the ground, holding his stomach together as best he could. Yet another familiar voice prickled his ears.
"I humbly call the Gods of Harvest. Follow my wishes, leave none unfulfilled!"
Despite everything, Shima smiled at the sound of her voice. He'd missed it over the years. It was soothing when she wasn't shouting at him.
With unison snarls, Izumo's Byakko lunged at The Duke as he turned. There was a brief yelp before Uke tore his throat out and he tumbled to the ground in front of Shima. Mike and Uke continued their attack until Izumo tore her magic circles, letting the light paper flutter free in the wind. She ran past Ryuji, stepped over The Duke's gurgling corpse, and flung herself at Shima. She was shaking.
"You're an idiot and I hate you," she murmured in his ear, holding him in a tight embrace. "Lying about having a family."
"I missed you too." As much as he wanted to return her affection, Shima couldn't stand to move, the pain of his stomach wound white hot. His breathing was ragged. Izumo's lips brushed his cheek quickly, as though she was hoping he wouldn't notice it.
"We're gonna take care of you, alright?"
Shima nodded but his eye was on Ryuji Suguro, tracking him as he approached. He kicked The Duke's body, rolling it over.
"On second thought, maybe we should leave you to learn from your mistakes, Shima." Ryuji's expression was cold, his face stony.
"When did you decide to grow a beard?" Shima winced as Izumo helped him up. "It looks awful. You look like an old man."
Ryuji shook his head and jabbed a finger towards the body between them. "You think this is a joke, you idiot? More people die every day than I or Izumo can save—"
"You make it sound like we're not doing anything to help," Shima cut in.
"You do nothing because you're afraid." Ryuji's lip curled up in a snarl. "You all sit around planning action and never follow through."
"We don't want anymore needless deaths," Shima protested. He gasped and pressed a hand against his wound. Blood seeped between his fingers. Izumo looked worriedly to Ryuji.
"This can wait," she hissed.
Ryuji waved her off and grabbed Shima by the chin. He yanked him forward, staring into his eyes, noses inches apart.
"Wake up, Renzuo. You're not allowed to be a coward anymore."
"You were the one who ran away." Shima met Ryuji's eyes with unwavering defiance. He had nothing to prove to him anymore. He was done playing those old games.
Izumo stepped between them, hooking Shima's arm over her shoulders and taking the brunt of his weight.
"Enough," she snapped. "We need to get out of here before nightfall and at this pace we're going to take a while. Suguro, take care of the body."
With a grunt, Ryuji pulled a flask of gasoline out of his jacket and proceeded douse The Duke. Izumo led Shima away before Ryuji struck a match.
"So you can't tell me it's a coincidence you two popped up when you did," Shima said. He did his best to ignore the wafting scent of fat and hair burning. Ryuji fell into step beside them, silently keeping a militaristic stride.
"If I said that really was the case, would you believe me?" Izumo shifted Shima's weight on her neck with a grunt. "We were honestly just hoping to find anyone, maybe get an in back into True Cross."
Shima stopped dead in his tracks. He glanced from Ryuji to Izumo. "You want back in? Back in to what? There's nothing left."
"Then what exactly has been keeping you here?" Ryuji gestured to what was left of the city that surrounded the academy. It was utter desolation, a warzone that had long been closed off to the outside world. But all action had been taken too late. Even after several months the whole city still stank of rotting flesh. Fires burned and demons stalked the shadows and owned the night. As they emerged from the alleyway the gate to Gehenna stared down at them from where True Cross Academy once stood.
"Welcome back," Shima scoffed.
Izumo stood for a moment, jaw slack, staring at the remains of the school she had once called home. Next to her Ryuji shook his head and nudged her forward.
"Come on. Like you said, we need to get out of here before nightfall."
Izumo grasped Shima by the shoulder and shoved him back against the floor.
"Stay still," she commanded for the third time. The dingy apartment was empty save for the tiny fire Ryuji had started in a trashcan, the only source of light.
"You're killing me," Shima coughed, a burning hot pang of pain erupting in his belly.
"Hush," she murmured. She placed a gentle hand on his forehead as she finished cleaning his wound. "You're lucky the damage isn't that bad. I can stitch you up no problem, you nuisance."
Izumo moved to throw the used gauze away but Shima caught her hand. It was warm from working, but her face looked so pale and cold.
"Thank you."
"Shut up. I still need to sew you together."
Shima squeezed her hand. "I missed you."
She blinked in surprise, staring down at him. He still had such a soft face, even still kind eyes, the right one faded and milky. It seemed impossible to her, to still look so human. And yet she didn't put it past him to still have that ability to stay empathetic or to maintain a sense of humour even.
"I missed the way you smell," he said softly.
"Stop." Izumo pulled her hand away and flipped open her medical kit. She couldn't have shaky hands for this. She pulled out a needle and thread.
"I really missed the feel of your hands."
"This might sting a little." The needle bit into Shima's soft flesh and he moaned. Izumo continued stitching despite the noises he made and she kept her hand steady despite herself. Focus, focus. When she finished she pressed a bandage over the suture, her fingers dusting lightly over Shima's lower torso.
"Yeah, that's the touch I missed." Shima grinned at her and her cheeks flushed.
Izumo tugged his shirt back down to cover any temptation.
"I appreciate you not taking advantage of me in my enfeebled state," Shima joked, his hand tracing her cheek. "You're a much sweeter nurse than Okumura ever was."
Izumo frowned. "Yukio?"
Shima nodded.
"You still trust him?" She caught herself and chewed her lower lip. "We thought maybe you'd all come around after the second attack on the city. But you stayed, like you said you would. We all thought...you're family was worried."
"Are they alright?"
Izumo nodded. "Kinzuo rescued an entire pre-school on the first day of the gate opening and he's been taking care of them ever since. He has a hoard of forty-something children following him around no matter where he goes."
"I'm not surprised," Shima said with a smile. "And everyone else?"
"Tatsuma insisted that Miwa stay behind to help strategize. And he wanted us to come back and do some recon." Izumo brushed hair out of her eyes. "Bon agreed only to check on Yukio, I'm sure."
Shima tried to sit up again and this time Izumo didn't try to stop him. "Things were—are complicated. Last time we saw him, Moriyama and he had a blow up, kinda, heh, kinda like me and Bo—Suguro." Shima glanced down at his feet then back up at Izumo with a smile. "Anyways, we're not sure where he's gone. Rin's decided that it's better if we just give him time, hope he comes back on his own. But we don't need to talk about that."
He rested a hand on her shoulder, slowly sidling it up the back of her neck. She closed her eyes as his fingers curled in the tangles of her matted purple hair. She leaned in even as he gingerly pulled her forward. Their breath mingled as their lips parted, ever so slightly, meeting with trepidation. The tastes were foreign now, so unfamiliar that it drove a sharp spear of wanting through Shima. He wanted to recognize Izumo's flavour again, an exotic spice he couldn't place. He needed to inhale her smell, the tingle of something distinct behind the sweet fragrance of sweat.
He tilted his head, their noses brushing, and something wet hit his cheek. Shima pulled away reluctantly and slowly opened his eyes. Izumo hastily wiped away her tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be. You did what you thought was right."
She shook her head. "I did what I know was right."
He gave her a meek smile but she turned away, packing up her medical kit.
"It's probably a good idea for you to get some rest. Suguro and I will be headed out for food in a few hours, just before dawn. You're not to leave until we get back, understood?" She phrased it as a question, but Shima knew better. It was an order, not an option.
"Understood."
"And Renzuo, when we get back he's going to..." Izumo stood, clearing her throat. "Ryuji is going to want to have a word with you."
"What's new?"
"Just tell him what he wants to know, alright?" Not an order, but a plea.
"What could he possibly want to know?"
Izumo suddenly refused to meet his gaze. She hurried for the door and disappeared from his sight once again. Shima lay back down. He needed to gather his strength because there was no way he could still be here when they got back.