The Unveiling
The volcanic rock crunches beneath Yume's boots as she disembarks, the alien landscape of Kamikura Island stretching out before her. A sense of foreboding hangs heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the vibrant emotions flaring within her.
It's a feeling both familiar and strange, a whisper brushing against the edges of her consciousness. It tugs at her, a yearning she can't quite place. Then, with a jolt, it hits her – a connection, faint yet undeniable. Images, emotions, and a torrent of information flood her mind.
Yume gasps, her hand flying to her chest as the message coalesces. It isn't a voice, but a presence, a tapestry woven from the combined spirits of Minato and his Sekirei. They are…alive. But not in the way they had hoped.
Confused and overwhelmed, Yume stumbles, her vision blurring for a moment. Chiho, ever vigilant, rushes to her side. "Yume! What's wrong?"
Yume fights to regain her composure. The message is fading, the connection fraying at the edges. But the core of it remains, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. "I…I think…" she stammers, struggling to find the words.
"Think what?" Uzume presses, her brow furrowed.
Yume looks at each of them, their faces etched with determination and a flicker of fear. Taking a deep breath, she blurts out, "They're… They're okay. Minato and the others. They're together."
A stunned silence descends upon the group. Chiho's eyes widen in disbelief. Uzume's mouth hangs open, the playful fire in her usually vibrant eyes replaced by a flicker of something fragile – hope. The others exchange confused glances, the weight of Yume's words settling upon them.
"What do you mean, together?" Akitsu finally breaks the silence, her voice barely a whisper.
Yume closes her eyes, trying to recapture the essence of the message. "Not in the way we are," she explains. "They're… somewhere else, connected to us somehow."
A wave of emotions washes over the group – relief, disbelief, a surge of confusion. This isn't the reunion they had envisioned, but it is a lifeline. Minato and the Sekirei are alive, fighting for them even from beyond the veil.
"They… They said they'd be watching," Yume adds, her voice trembling slightly. The revelation hangs in the air, a spark igniting a fire within them. The weight on their shoulders, though heavy, feels lighter somehow. They have renewed purpose, yet more reason to fight with everything they have.
"Let me kiss you, Yume. Maybe the norito can make the picture more clear and let me see them as well."
Yume gives an astute nod and their lips meet a moment later.
Chiho's vision is engulfed in white the moment Yume's wings emerge. She can hear them, feel them, and a moment later, she sees them, floating amongst the nebulae. But do they see her?
"Hey, you guys? Can you see me?" she says, waving.
No reaction, besides her own disappointment.
As quickly as she arrived, she finds herself pulled back to reality once the kiss breaks.
"Are you okay, Chiho?" Yume asks.
Chiho nods. "I'm fine."
"Did you see them?" Uzume asks.
"Yes, just as Yume described it. I don't think they saw me, though."
XXXXXX
The eyes of Minato and his flock linger on the vision until it collapses into whiffs of smoke.
"Our connection through Yume seems to be manifesting memories of sorts," Matsu surmises before another memory manifests before them.
XXXXXX
The wind hisses through the sandy ruins of the island's long-abandoned research facilities.
Uzume's veil billows dramatically behind her, her voice laced with barely contained fury. "A week. A whole, agonizing week since you took Minato and my friends from me."
"Come on, you did plenty of that yourself while working for Higa." Karasuba reaches for her nodachi's grip, dragging it out with calculated laxity. "Was the sex really that good?"
"You're damn right it was!"
XXXXXX
Minato blushes at Uzume's blatant admission.
"Uh, hold up. Are we seeing the final battle? Because they literally just arrived on the island in the last vision."
Matsu shrugs her shoulders. "Whoever's in charge of this place must have thought it wasn't worth the effort of showing."
"What makes you say that?" Musubi inquires.
"Well, Chiho has the largest flock out of everyone on the boat, and Karasuba is Karasuba. You do the math."
Musubi blinks and tilts her head. "...What math?"
XXXXXX
Uzume's voice trembles. "And don't you dare fucking mock him! If you weren't one of the First Five, you'd be nothing. You practically don't have an Ashikabi, with how little you care about each other. But you underestimated me, Karasuba. I have two Ashikabi and a whole load of Sekirei to fight for. I won't let you win."
Karasuba throws her head back and laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "Win? I'm not going to win. I'm simply going to be the last one to die. Everyone else goes first."
Uzume's eyes blaze with fury. "We'll see about that."
"Are you sure you want to face her first, White?" Benitsubasa asks, stepping forward. "I know this is personal for you but–"
Uzume jerks away. "But nothing. As long as I'm breathing, she won't take anything else from us. I won't let her take anything else from us. She'll need to get through me first."
In a blur of white, Uzume lunges forward, her veil billowing behind her like the wings of a white hawk.
Karasuba laughs again and charges to meet her, swinging her massive nodachi in a deadly arc.
Uzume, with a dancer's agility, dips beneath the blow, the blade whistling past her head. She retaliates with a sweeping kick aimed at Karasuba's legs.
The Black Sekirei somersaults over the strike, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Is that all you've got, lovebird?"
"Hell no!"
Uzume's veils come to life as they stiffen and lash out at Karasuba mid-flight, only to be cut to literal ribbons before Karasuba so much as touches the ground.
The Black Sekirei stands straight, smiling while showing her back. "Pathetic."
XXXXXX
The vision ends before another takes form.
"I guess time works differently here, wherever we are," Kazehana notes as they take in the scenery.
"I remember something from Star Trek about nonlinear time," says Matsu. "I can't imagine living like this."
XXXXXX
The room gently lists and sways in time with the dull clap of waves against the metal hull. A flickering oil lamp casts grotesque shadows across the faces of the assembled Ashikabi. Chiho's voice, usually as crisp as a summer breeze, trembles slightly. "We all know why we're here," she begins, her eyes steady on those of her counterparts. "The Sekirei Plan has taken too much from us all. I propose a solution that can end our losses."
Sanada, a permanent scowl etched on his face, scoffs. "Skip the dramatics, Chiho. What's your angle?"
Mikogami, ever the silent observer, watches intently along with the few other Ashikabi, his youthful face betraying no emotion.
Chiho meets Sanada's challenge, "I have something none of you do—the cursebreaker. My flock of Sekirei can take Karasuba down. But for this to work, we need unity. We end the tournament together and we can all get what we want with minimal bloodshed."
She continues. "In return, I ask that you all forfeit the tournament. That way it will guarantee no one needs to die at Karasuba's hand. Considering the massacres at the bridge and railyard, I believe it's safe to say everyone present has lost someone because of her. Once I win, I will use the prize to revive everyone affected by this. Everyone gets their lost ones back."
The proposition hangs between them like a fragile truce, the promise of revival a tempting balm for their shared traumas.
Mikogami finally speaks, his voice laced with ice. "So we quit and then what? You win, use the prize for something else, and laugh at the fools who trusted you?"
Sanada frowns, the gears in his mind turning. "And if you fail? We'd have given up everything for nothing."
Chiho's response is swift, her confidence unwavering. "I won't fail. All of you on the other hand will. If not by Karasuba's hand then by my own. I'm the Ashikabi of the Discipline Squad. And I have the cursebreaker to make all of them more powerful than the doctors could with simple tuning. This is our best chance to right the wrongs of this tournament, to bring back those we've lost. Isn't that worth the risk?"
The conversation lapses into a heavy silence, each Ashikabi wrestling with their own doubts and desires. The promise of revival, of undoing the pain and loss, is a powerful lure.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Mikogami nods, his voice soft but firm. "I'm in. I want my Sekirei back."
The air crackles with unspoken agreements. As Mikogami gives a curt nod, Sanada follows suit, a flicker of desperation battling his ingrained distrust. "Fine," he growls. "We're in. But remember, Chiho, there's no turning back now."
A flicker of a genuine smile, fragile as spun glass, graces Chiho's lips. "Together," she echoes, her gaze sweeping across the room. "Together, we end this."
XXXXXX
"So Chiho convinced the other Ashikabi to stand down," Kazehana says with a smirk and bow of the chin. "Quite the shrewd negotiator."
"Yeah, Minaka must have been pissed," Matsu adds. Another vision begins to take shape. "Look, another one's coming into focus."
XXXXXX
Takami adjusts dials on a nearby machine. Her eyes trace the wiring along the floor to where it disappears beneath the blanket that covers her world.
"Not much longer now…" Takami's voice barely rises above the whirring machines.
On the bed, Minato stirs, his mop of black hair a mess against the sterile white pillow.
Moments later, Minaka comes in through the door. The door clicks shut with a sharp finality, and Takami straightens in her chair, a flicker of something like defiance crossing her features before she addresses him.
"How's my boy doing?"
Takami's eyes narrow. "My son's vitals are all normal. The surgery was a huge success, even more so than when Miss Hidaka underwent it."
"Excellent!" Minaka claps his white-gloved hands together. "So, that means he's inherited the gift?"
Takami gives a curt nod. "That remains to be seen. Should we wake him?" she inquires, her gaze flickering to Minaka. "The final stage is approaching, and–"
Minaka's lips twist into a smirk devoid of humor. "No, keep him under until the Sekirei Plan concludes. One rogue cursebreaker is quite enough. Besides, he needs to learn a lesson from that bridge fiasco."
Takami sighs, a flicker of despair crossing her features for a brief moment before it is schooled back into stoicism. "If that's your decision," she concedes, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
XXXXXX
"So Minaka made it so I wouldn't participate," Minato snaps his chin away from the smoky vision. "Damn."
"Tis been out of our hands since the very beginning," Tsukiumi hisses. "Balderdash!"
"Don't look away yet, guys," Matsu calls. "Uzume's in trouble!"
XXXXXX
"She's a monster."
Uzume finds herself on a windswept beach, the sand whipped into a frenzy by a relentless ocean. The sky bleeds crimson at the horizon, mirroring the raw terror clawing at her insides. Across the expanse of sand stands Karasuba, her grey hair whipping around her face like a shroud. Her grin, a monstrous slash of white against her pale skin, is a harbinger of doom.
Karasuba raises her nodachi, the setting sun glinting wickedly off its polished surface. With a guttural roar, she launches into a deadly ballet. The blade sings a chilling song as it carves a vicious arc through the humid air, hungering for Uzume's insides.
Uzume, fueled by a primal urge for survival, dances aside with movements honed from years of struggle. The air crackles in the wake of the blade's path. A warm line of crimson blossoms on Uzume's arm, a testament to Karasuba's deadly precision.
As Uzume's eyes flicker to the crimson stain, Karasuba, with predatory grace, closes the distance. Panic threatens to consume Uzume, but she forces it down.
Think, Uzume, think! she screams internally, the raw need to survive igniting a spark of clarity.
Karasuba charges again, her blade a blur of lethal intent. Uzume reacts instinctively, her body seeking refuge in a nearby rock formation. With the agility of a startled gazelle, she propels herself over Karasuba's head, the wind whipping at her hair like a thousand invisible fingers.
Landing precariously on a rocky outcropping, Uzume surveys the scene, her mind racing. I need to get close on my terms for this to work, she thinks, her voice a desperate echo in the crashing waves. But this environment is a death trap. I need to lure her from this beach, somewhere I can use the terrain to my advantage.
A desperate gamble forms in her mind. She glances towards the dark maw of the jungle that borders the beach. A flicker of hope ignites in her eyes. "Got it!" she whispers, a newfound determination hardening her voice.
Luring Karasuba deeper into the emerald labyrinth of the jungle, Uzume becomes a phantom ninja flitting through the foliage. With every desperate leap from branch to branch, she feels the unnerving crunch of wood splintering beneath Karasuba's relentless pursuit. Her reflexes mirror Uzume's own, each counter-move a testament to their otherworldly skills.
Through the dense foliage, Chiho and her flock witness the battle unfold from atop a grassy hill. Hope battles with despair in Chiho's heart with each desperate leap Uzume takes.
Suddenly, Uzume stops, a steely resolve hardening her gaze. With a raw scream that echoes through the humid air, her veil transfigures. It isn't a gentle shroud anymore, but a colossal drill of shimmering energy, spiraling into existence with a ferocity that rivals the pounding of her frantic heart. The earth trembles as the drill tears towards Karasuba, a monstrous augur promising oblivion.
Yet, the monstrous woman meets this defiant act with chilling disdain. In a move defying gravity, she launches herself into a breathtaking leap. Her nodachi, a nightmare forged into steel, sings a death knell as it cleaves through Uzume's creation. The drill shatters into a million floating fragments, scattering like fallen leaves in a hurricane.
A wave of nausea washes over Uzume. She has never seen such an expression—a mixture of triumphant savagery and deep, unsettling malice. It is a look that promises not just death, but an agonizing, drawn-out torture.
"MOVE, UZUME!" Chiho screams, though it seems to be happening in slow motion.
The world around Uzume blurs as Karasuba unleashes a torrent of steel. The wind howls, carrying the chilling song of her blade, a melody that perfectly matches the growing fury of the ocean. Monstrous waves crash against the shore, mirroring the violence unfolding just meters away.
"You're dull," Karasuba chuckles, her voice laced with sadistic amusement. The massive nodachi now rests casually across her shoulders, a chilling reminder of the power disparity. "If you keep hopping around like a scared rabbit, this will get boring awfully fast."
Chiho's cries for Uzume echo along with the growing chorus of waves. Her voice becomes strained, raspy, and weary. She watches in silence, realizing nothing will make Uzume falter.
"Get bored, then," Uzume spits defiantly, her voice surprisingly steady, "and get fucked."
She scans the rocky terrain, finally spotting a jagged outcropping towering above her. With a desperate surge of energy, she scrambles towards it.
A crooked grin twists Karasuba's lips as she readies herself for another assault and gives chase. As Karasuba nears the top, Uzume knows it is now or never. Taking a deep, ragged breath, she channels everything she has left into her veil. It materializes not as a protective shroud, but as a battering ram of shimmering energy, propelled by her raw desperation.
With a battle cry that echoes through the jungle, Uzume slams into Karasuba, knocking her backward off the rock face. The sand explodes in a cloud as Karasuba lands with a surprised grunt, her nodachi clattering a few feet away. Uzume watches, chest heaving, as the energy construct dissipates, leaving behind mere wisps of fading light.
Karasuba snaps her left leg back with impressive agility, regaining her balance and retrieving her weapon in a single, fluid motion. A growl rumbles in her throat, the sound both feral and oddly amused.
"Surprisingly strong," she growls huskily, her voice laced with grudging respect. "You are the second Sekirei who's been able to disarm me, even just momentarily. Impressive…"
Uzume can sense Karasuba's impending strike. It isn't that Karasuba is predictable; it is that Uzume has anticipated this strategy. As Karasuba's assault bears down, Uzume's agility is her salvation, a whirlwind of movement that leaves only the cliff face to mourn the misspent fury of Karasuba's strike. In a moment of ingenuity, Uzume's veil transforms once more, soaring like a javelin, only to metamorphose into a blinding parachute that ensnares Karasuba in a veil of disorientation. The battlefield claims its toll as Karasuba stumbles, ensnared by both the terrain and Uzume's cunning.
She twirls the parachute material back to her and rearranges it into a spike-tipped lance. Uzume charges forward as the veil pierces the sand and, for a brief moment, Karasuba's shoulder, pinning her to the ground. She twists in pain, trying desperately to free herself.
For a moment, Uzume thinks she has won.
But then Karasuba wrenches her body and breaks the veil's spike in two. She uses one half as leverage, lifting herself onto her feet and landing a swift blow to Uzume's ribs. Uzume feels as if every bone has been broken, her internal organs screaming in agony. She launches her veil like a bludgeon again, striking Karasuba and knocking her back.
Uzume, on her knees, the taste of copper on her lips, whispers a mantra of resilience to the winds. "C'mon, Uzume, you're stronger than this!" she says aloud to herself through ragged breaths.
Karasuba, her silhouette outlined against the dwindling light, stands with a victor's grimace, blood trailing from her own wounds—a macabre mirror to Uzume's suffering. "Wow! You really are something else!" she exclaims. Her hand presses against the wound on her abdomen, as if to mock her foe with fake commendation.
Uzume, driven by a cocktail of adrenaline and resolve, staggers to her feet, her foundation trembling as if rejecting the very notion of surrender. "It ends now, Karasuba," she declares, her voice a temperamental blend of pain and defiance, charging forward with the last ounces of her strength.
Karasuba, with a sigh that bears the weight of inevitability, responds to Uzume's final stand not with words, but with action—a blinding-fast, balletic leap from the earth.
Time dilates, each second a minute unto itself, as Uzume's vision tunnels to the singular, horrific sight of Karasuba's nodachi, a sliver of death. The blade meets flesh with a crunch more deafening than any clash of steel, burrowing into Uzume's chest with an intimacy reserved for final goodbyes. A gush of blood follows, a stark testament to the grim conclusion of their dance. Uzume crumples, her vitality seeping into the sands that bear the imprints of their epic struggle.
Karasuba alights beside her fallen foe with a grace that belies the brutality of her actions, untouched by the gravity of the moment.
"What a waste," she sneers. She mercilessly tears the blade from the cavity of flesh it created, and Uzume drops in a heap.
The world around Uzume mutes, Chiho's cries distorting into a distant echo, as the reality of her defeat—a pool of her own life essence cradling her—began to draw the curtain on her consciousness. The sun's warmth, once a caress, now recedes into a cold, encroaching shadow, heralding the approach of an eternal night.
XXXXXX
Minato pitches forward, clutching his chest.
"Husband!" Tsukiumi cries, catching him.
Minato looks at the image before him, of Uzume's last moments. "She's dying. This is happening right now."
"How can you tell?" Kazehana asks.
"I just… can," Minato said. "I don't know how. She's not my Sekirei." He looks at his first girl, his bubbly brunette. "But, it feels like it did when you were losing your fight, Musubi."
Musubi nods, then mournfully looks at the vision. "But what can we do?"
"Something!" Kusano angrily insists. "Why are we watching if we can't help her?!"
Matsu's brain, though immaterial in a place like this, has been sitting on an egg of information, taking into account everything they've witnessed in this strange place, caught somewhere in time. That egg now hatches into the most ludicrous, absurd notion that Matsu's ever had.
"Guys?" she says, drawing their attention to her. "Hear me out…"
XXXXXX
Karasuba shows nothing but her back, Uzume's soon-to-be corpse of no further interest to her. More interesting to her is the weeping girl, watching her partner bleed out and die.
"See, Chiho?" she taunts with venomous glee. "You chose wrong." The agony of Chiho's sobs become the final note in a symphony of loss, drowned out by Karasuba's departing laughter, a sound fading into the void.
As darkness envelops Uzume, her thoughts spiral into regret, a silent apology to her allies, to her cause, to Chiho. "I'm sorry..." These words, a whisper to the indifferent sands, mark the surrender of her spirit.
Yet, in the closing act of her consciousness, a weight, unexpected and sudden, pressed upon her—Chiho's desperate attempt at solace, or perhaps defiance, a physical anchor against the tide pulling Uzume into the abyss.
"UZUMEEEEEEE!" Chiho cries.
Frantically, Chiho's hands, trembling with fear and desperation, seek signs of life in Uzume, her movements a chaotic dance of hope against the inexorable truth of death. "Oh, god, Uzume, please don't die!" she implores the heavens, her plea a fragile thread against the looming specter of finality. "Please don't leave me!"
"She's dead," Karasuba says, resting her nodachi on her shoulders. As she takes a slow stride away from the body, the flock gathers around Chiho and Uzume.
"No, I won't let you take her! I WON'T LET YOU KILL HER!" Chiho screams, tears streaming down her cheeks
Karasuba's shadow casts a darkness over Uzume's peaceful face. "You just did.".
Chiho's sobs grow louder as she cradles Uzume's body in her arms. Her world narrows to the lifeless form in her embrace, refusing to relinquish her hold on hope, on Uzume. "You monster..." she whispers through tears, the words barely a breath against the overwhelming weight of her sorrow.
Yume's hand comes to rest on Chiho's shoulder. She's about to say something, when her eyes shoot wide and she says something entirely different.
"Could it be…?"
XXXXXX
Minato's struggle to keep himself from guffawing with either laughter, joy, or both. His five Sekirei cling to him: Matsu and Kazehana submissively to each leg, Tsukiumi and Musubi to each arm, Kusano to his hands, which rest on her shoulders beneath her frazzled blonde hair.
The five Sekirei all dwell on their most precious memories. For Kazehana, this means Uzume and Chiho as much as it does Minato. They think about all the good times they've had, all the happy memories, reaching deep within themselves to whip up as much joy, passion, and love as they can experience without the limits of a physical brain to constrain them. Only in a place like this, beyond understanding, beyond the material, could this be possible.
After all, as he said, Uzume isn't Minato's Sekirei. They've kissed, they've hugged, they've done things to each other that could never be spoken of in front of Kusano. However, he does not have anything resembling a true Sekirei-Ashikabi bond with her.
…Or…
…Ridiculous though it may seem…
…As of the completion of Minato's mysterious "surgery", for which Chiho was the guinea pig…
…Does he?
XXXXXX
A flicker of the impossible ignites like a bolt of lightning through everyone's hearts. Uzume's eyes, previously closed to the world, blaze with sudden life. In a moment suspended between disbelief and miracle, Uzume draws Chiho into a kiss, a silent testament to their unbroken bond. The tableau shatters as Karasuba, caught off guard, is ensnared by an unseen force, her victorious stride halted midstep by a cocoon of microscopic fibers, a web of retribution spun from the very air.
"WHAT?!" Karasuba's disbelief is a muffled cry against the constraints that bind her. She'd forgotten the oldest rule of battle: the enemy is not defeated until they believe themselves to be.
"UZUME!" Chiho's despair turns to joy, her voice a clarion call of relief and astonishment. "How did you survive? I thought you were dead!"
Her Ashikabi looks down at Uzume's chest to find the wound inexplicably healed. Was this her cursebreaker's doing?
Uzume rises, her wound and brush with death about to become nothing but a bad memory. "Chiho, I've got to ask you to turn around, close your eyes, and cover your ears," she instructs.
Chiho's response, light and teasing, fails to mask the depth of her relief. "Why? Are you going to do something naughty?"
Uzume's smile, a rare blend of warmth and impending vengeance, is her only reply.
As Chiho complies, laughter dancing in her voice, Uzume turns to face Karasuba, the fallen warrior now a captive audience to her judgment. "For everything you have done to my Ashikabi and friends..." Uzume pauses, her gaze locked with Karasuba's, a storm of resolve and retribution brewing in her eyes. "I will show no mercy."
Uzume tugs at the strands of her veil, then yanks them all like a lawnmower engine. The threads swiftly unravel, sending Karasuba into a topspin. Karasuba's dizziness soon turns into agony as the cocoon becomes thinner and thinner, until suddenly, in a crescendo of cruelty that nature itself would recoil from, the veil makes its final, devastating move. In an act of grotesque unveiling, it reaches the skin and all at once in one singular monstrous rip, her whole body is degloved of its flesh like beef hanging in a butcher's shop. Karasuba screeches in agony as her very essence is laid bare in a spectacle of gore that would haunt the annals of nightmares.
Chiho's harem watches from the distance gasp as the blood rains down.
"Holy shit!" they exclaim in unison.
With the battlefield now her domain, Uzume advances, the nodachi in her grasp an extension of her fury. Uzume lets out a primal howl as she charges forward amidst Karasuba's agonized screaming, lunging with the blade home and driving it directly through the Black Sekirei's heart like a spear.
As she twists the nodachi, the world seems to hold its breath, the scream that follows a chilling release of life, a symphony of endings. Leaning close, Uzume's whisper is a venomous caress, a final farewell laced with the promise of eternal damnation. "That's for Minato. Fuck you and die, bitch."
As the dust settles, Karasuba's bloody pile of meat lies motionless, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had preceded. Uzume turns, seeking solace in the presence of Chiho who, in her innocence and trust, has remained oblivious to the butchery.
Approaching Chiho, the first thing Uzume does as a woman freed from dark plots and impending murders is to kiss her Ashikabi on the cheek."You can open your eyes now.".
Chiho, with cautious optimism, allows her gaze to unveil the new world before her—one eye at a time. Her question, laced with a hopeful grin, seeks confirmation of their deliverance. "Is she dead?"
Uzume's affirmation is a solemn nod to the gravity of their victory, the nodachi discarded to the sands like a used burger wrapper.
In a moment of pure relief and unbridled joy, Chiho leaps into Uzume's embrace, her feet absentmindedly leaving the ground despite Uzume's recent exertions. Uzume's response? A kiss to Chiho's lips.
Their reunion is soon echoed by the arrival of the flock, descending from their vantage point on the cliff to share in the moment of victory. Their congratulations, a chorus of admiration and relief, fill the air, transforming the battlefield into a hall of celebration.
Yet, as the initial wave of celebration ebbs, a question arises from Akitsu. "So, what do we do now?"
As if they were ritual words of summoning, this brief interlude of tranquility is shattered by the expected arrival of Minaka, descending from the heavens in his helicopter, eager to meddle yet again.
He produces a megaphone and yells, "Congratulations, my dear Chiho and Uzume! But don't think that this is the end. A final challenge awaits you on Kouten, the floating island that hovers above us."
The announcement, a bolt of lightning, shocks the flock, a realization that their moment of triumph is merely a prelude to a greater challenge. The flock, momentarily uplifted by their victory, now faces the dawning realization that their journey is far from over.
"Now, Chiho, you must choose which one of your Sekirei will represent you in this final challenge. Who will it be? Akitsu? Benitsubasa perhaps? Or will it be Uzume, the heroine of this tale?"Faced with an impossible choice, Chiho's eyes, a tempest of fear, hope, and love, seek counsel in the faces of her flock. Yet, the silent faces that meets her gaze is a stark reminder that the burden of choice is hers alone to bear. They all looked at her directly, each fidgeting and on the verge of tears in their unsteady eyes. In the depths of her turmoil, her heart finds its anchor in the memory of Uzume's courage and sacrifice, her voice a tremulous beacon as she makes her declaration, "I choose Uzume."
"Excellent choice, my dear! Uzume it is! And let me assure you, the reward for success will be well worth the effort."
"So how are we supposed to get to Kouten anyway?" Uzume asks. "I can jump tall buildings no problem, but that floating island is in the stratosphere it looks like."
"You must call upon the collective strength of the rest of Chiho's flock," the game master explains. "This, however, will terminate them."
"Wait, what?!" Chiho cries.
"What do you mean 'terminate'? Are you saying you'll kill them if they help Uzume?!"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Your Sekirei's lives are on the line. If they are used as a power source for the flight to Kouten, they will guide you. This is the ultimate test of your love and loyalty, Chiho. You must be willing to sacrifice everything for your victory."
"That's a bit extreme, isn't it? Surely, there's another way," Chiho says. "You do have a helicopter, after all. Just fly us up."
"Ah, I'm afraid it's not that simple, my dear. Number 00 has made it so only the victors may approach the island. There is a force field at the ready to repel anything but."
"But can't you at least give me a choice in the matter? I don't want to lose my Sekirei."
"Alas, the fate of the Sekirei is yours to decide, Chiho. You must be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for your victory. That is the true test of your love and loyalty, the ultimate price."
"It's okay, Chiho." Akitsu reassurance is a whisper, a soft caress of warmth amidst the coldness of the moment. "If it means winning, then I'm willing to risk it."
"Are you sure?" Chiho asks, her eyes glistening with tears.
"Positive. We've come this far together. Let's see it through to the end."
Chiho nods, her gaze passing over each of her flock: Haihane, Benitsubasa, Yume, , a silent promise of faith and devotion. "I'll never forget you."
"Bullshit," says Benitsubasa. "We'll see you at supper time tonight."
Around the chosen two, their companions form a sacred circle, a unity of purpose and sacrifice. Chiho kisses each of them, allowing their wings of light to emerge once more before their hands meet and a surge of power, both terrifying and exhilarating, courses through their veins.
With Chiho secured tightly to her back, Uzume takes a deep breath, her heart pounding like a drumbeat against the profound silence of anticipation. The ground beneath her feet vibrates with latent energy, feeling like a springboard destined to launch her towards the stars. With a determined leap, she catapults into the night sky, propelled by the collective might of her allies who, in turn, crumple to the earth below.
As they ascend, enveloped in the embrace of the night, Chiho experiences a sensation that transcends the physical realm. She feels connected to a vast network of souls, each thread in this intricate web a testament to their shared resolve.
The world around them erupts in a breathtaking blaze of glory as Uzume gains speed, climbing higher and higher through the clouds. And then, as quickly as it had arrived, the inferno of light recedes, leaving them bathed in the surreal glow of Kouten. Below them, the island unfolds like a dreamscape, suspended in the sky as if cradled by magic itself.
Chiho's gaze is captivated by the sights and sounds that envelop them as they touch down upon the grassy expanse of the island. Uzume, rising from a crouch, straightens her posture with a regal grace. Her eyes snap open, irises aflame with a deep purple aura, a vivid testament to the power of those she cherishes, those who have bestowed upon her their strength.
"Uzume, your eyes are..." Chiho hesitates, awe-stricken.
"I can feel them," Uzume responds, her voice a soft murmur yet humming with strength. "Can't you?"
"Feel who?"
"The others," she whispers, her voice barely a breeze. Uzume is awash with the presence of her companions in her heart and mind, their voices a chorus of love and devotion. She can sense their pain, their suffering, their sacrifices. "Not only your flock, but Minato's. They've got our back."
Chiho watches, mesmerized, as Uzume stands tall, her eyes glowing purple, a beacon of power and purpose. In this moment, Uzume transcends her identity; she is no longer merely a Sekirei but something more.
In this way, she is like her opponent.
Their attention is captured by a figure emerging from the ruins ahead of them, her lavender hair flowing down over a traditional miko outfit. "Welcome to Kouten, No. 10," she says, her voice a whisper that seems to carry the weight of centuries. "I have been expecting you."
Uzume steps forward, hand over her heart, her expression solemn. "I figured it would be you I'd need to face, Miya." Her smile vanishes as resolve hardens her features. "I'm not here for games. I have friends to save. I'll only give you one opportunity. Submit or be destroyed."
"I'm afraid I cannot do that, No. 10," Miya replies, her stance unyielding. "You see, I have a duty to protect this place. If you desire your wish to come true, you must defeat me."
Uzume bows her head. "I see…" She pulls Chiho in with her arm and kisses her. Her enormous wings emerge, dwarfing the very island as they flutter and extend outward. "Then, I will."
XXXXXX
A/N: This chapter was a real bitch to piece together for the last several months. Killing off so many antagonists so early in the fic really bit me in the ass with this one, so I decided to skip pretty much the entire Kamikura arc so I could get closer to wrapping this story up. I know, that's not good writing, but I really didn't have a choice in matters. Chiho had the largest flock and, as Matsu said, Karasuba is Karasuba. Everyone knew it would boil down to just them at the end. If I did do an arc it would just come off as filler.
If anyone takes anything away from this chapter, it should be this: When writing a story, have your end goal in mind. I made it clear at the very beginning of this fic that I didn't know how things would wrap up by the end and this is the result. I spent so long using this story as a test bed for quirky ideas that actually telling a story became secondary. For those of you still here I appreciate your support.
I'm excited to be finishing this story after so many years finally, and am even more excited to being one step closer to writing its sequel.