A/N: I discovered the cure for my lingering illness, figured out what I want to do with my life and played with my niece this past week. It's been great!
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Konan
All seemed well. That night, nobody had any negative news to share. There was cheerful, lighthearted conversation. But none of it could drive Konan's worries away. "You okay?" Clone Hidan asked. She could not answer. He hugged her and stayed by her side for the rest of the evening. That helped.
The next morning, she could hardly remember what she had been worried about. She felt refreshed, full of hope and energy. It was easy to focus solely on things that she did well. "Kakuzu, please demonstrate."
Clone Hidan held out his scythe. Kakuzu took it, concentrated for a few seconds, then slammed the base of the handle into the ground. Shockwaves rippled across the grass of the backyard. Hidan and Itachi clapped.
"Fascinating," Original Nagato said. "How was this ability discovered?"
Kakuzu handed the scythe back to Hidan and said, "He used it to slice through Deidara's owl like it was butter. I later discovered that those clay animals are damn near impenetrable."
"How many effects have been observed?" Original Nagato asked Konan.
"Six: freezing, heating, powerful impact, hyper-sharpness, electrocution, and antigravity."
"In other words, different effects for different types of magic," Itachi said. "The dolls, with their great variety of magic, should be able to elicit at least nine different effects."
"Let's get them out here and test it," Hidan said.
The dolls were very happy to play with the scythe. They were so enthusiastic, in fact, that the humans had to give them five minutes of unstructured playtime before even trying to give commands. After that, they sat down and watched very closely…only for Warlic to hurl the scythe across the yard. The dolls did not understand the difference between using magic on the scythe and channeling magic energy into it. Itachi tried to explain three different ways. The dolls seemed to catch on…but then they enchanted the scythe. Itachi sighed. "I can understand the confusion, but I was not describing enchantment."
"Let me have a go," Clone Hidan offered. He first asked the dolls to disenchant the scythe, which they did. Then he knelt before them and asked, "Do you guys remember what you did for Sasori after his fight with Other Me? There were lots and lots of people gathered on the demon boy's lawn, and the demon boy made dramatic announcements, and then Sasori fought Other Me, and he hacked Other Me into parts while laughing like a fucking madman?" The dolls consulted with each other. Little One remembered what Hidan was talking about. "Okay, now do that for the scythe. Pretend it's a person, and it's trying to use magic but doesn't have the energy to do so. Donate your magic energy so that it can work magic."
While the dolls carried the scythe out to the middle of the grass, Itachi said, "What a pity. If that is the most they can understand, then we will only be able to elicit one effect."
"One's a start. We can try for more tomorrow," Hidan murmured. "Now shush."
The dolls gathered around the scythe and laid their plushy hands on it like they had for Sasori. A faint white glow shone from their hands. At first, nothing happened. But then the tips of the scythe's blades began to glow in the same faint white light, and the blades lifted off the ground. The dolls stepped back. The scythe hovered a few inches off the ground, glowing, for several seconds. Then it stopped glowing and crashed to earth.
"Hey Itachi," Hidan said. "Didn't Ruta's document say something about floating and glowing being inherent properties of mana?"
Itachi nodded. "It did."
"Is that all they can do?" Original Nagato asked.
"Maybe not…" Hidan said, his eyes brightening. He went out to the dolls and told them, "Nice start, guys. But that's not all it can do. Do you think you can help it do fire magic?"
I never would have expected a version of Hidan to handle children so well. Konan marveled as Hidan walked the dolls through each type of magic that was known to be possible. The dolls were able to elicit the same effects from fire, ice, lightning, earth and wind as the humans could. Then Hidan asked them to make the scythe perform light magic. Everybody sat up.
The effects of light, dark and water magic were difficult to observe. A tickling in the gut told Konan that the scythe had been altered, but nothing was visible to the eye. The dolls, however, were able to sense the effects much more clearly. They jumped back from the scythe after filling it with darkness magic. Hidan reached out to touch the scythe, and the nearest doll blocked him, waving its arms frantically. Hidan raised his hands and asked the dolls to move on to water magic. They did something to the scythe, something that made the tickling in Konan's gut go away, before touching it. Filling the scythe with water magic had no visible effect.
"It appears that darkness magic makes the scythe dangerous to touch," Itachi said. "The effects of light and water, however, might become obvious if the scythe is held or moved in some way." The dolls helpfully recharged the scythe with light magic. Hidan picked it up. He waved it around, sliced at the ground, tapped the blades against a tree. Nothing happened. Itachi's brow furrowed. "I feel like I am forgetting something obvious…"
"Eh, let's see if water works any better," Hidan said with a shrug. He put the scythe down. The dolls charged it. This time, when Hidan picked the scythe up, the grass and earth beneath it lifted into the air. He reflexively waved the scythe around. This caused the clumps of dirt and grass to turn light colors. Dirt began to fall back to the ground as dust and sand. "It's controlling all the water around it!" Hidan reported. "My hands feel swollen!"
Hidan's hands returned to normal soon after the scythe lost its charge. The grass was not so lucky. Waving around the water inside of the plants had caused them serious internal damage, and of course their roots had been pulled from the ground. Hidan pushed the displaced material back into the hole and stomped it flat, leaving a pale scar in the yard. Meanwhile, Itachi typed on his phone at a feverish pace, sharing the results via the group chat. "It would be better if we knew exactly why the scythe was dangerous to touch when it was filled with darkness…"
"It probably would've turned me undead," Hidan said. "Shit, isn't that like the number one thing dark magic is used for? Thank you for warning me away, little guys. I don't think I would've liked that."
Itachi took a break from texting to facepalm. "Of course! Light and dark magic are associated with life and death! Hidan, injure yourself before asking the dolls to give the scythe light magic." He was not surprised when touching the scythe healed Hidan's injury. He backspaced a few lines, then resumed his fast-paced typing. "And… Done."
Konan pulled out her phone to see what responses came in. She frowned. "Who is Dove?"
Original Nagato scooted closer. "Dove?"
Her phone buzzed again. "Ah, I see. He is a character from the video game who has powerful light magic and can heal people by punching them. It still causes some minor amount of pain, but their wounds heal and he cannot inflict any new ones."
"No fuckin' way. Light magic turns this thing from a weapon into…what?" Hidan looked at his scythe with new eyes. "What do you call a weapon that fixes every wound it inflicts and then some?"
"Very useful," Itachi replied. "We must run further tests using more extensive injuries, but it looked as though the scythe healed your wound faster than the dolls could have on their own. The scythe might make their magic stronger."
The dolls threw their arms in the air and started running all around the backyard. "Oh shit!" Hidan exclaimed. "Itachi, why the fuck did you say that out loud?"
"I'm sorry…"
The dolls returned and jumped up and down, begging Hidan to give them back the scythe. He held it up higher and snapped, "I don't know what you fuckers plan to do with it! No way!"
Konan didn't even think about it. The words simply flew from her mouth. "Hidan, give them the scythe."
"Oh, fine," he said, tossing it to them. The dolls immediately channeled magic into it. Warlic and Manta rubbed the scythe against Hidan's belly. His eyes bulged. "You little dipshits!" Before he could say or do anything else, they hurled the scythe across the yard. Hidan's body followed. By the time he landed, he was already bright red and flopping like a fish. Drowning was not any more fun when you were immortal.
Itachi stood up. "Warlic, Solis, Manta, Little One! Uncharge the scythe and give it to me."
"Looks like they still can't be trusted to handle powerful artifacts on their own," Kakuzu muttered.
Konan blinked. Why did I order Hidan to give it to them? That question had neutral answers. Getting caught up in the excitement of experimentation was something that anyone might do. But she could not help but remember the questions of the day before. Her heart sank. I hope it was not because of that…
She no longer had any desire for experimentation. Neither did anyone else. Kakuzu made the dolls watch Hidan moan and gurgle in pain. They followed him to the porch with shamefully lowered heads. Konan told Kakuzu he was now in charge of them, then wrapped Hidan in paper for easy delivery to the sickbay. Itachi laid the now-inert scythe on the floor beside Hidan and pulled a blanket over him. Konan and Original Nagato watched silently. She could feel her old teammate's eyes on her. Yahiko surely told him about my problem. Does he suspect it? She couldn't bring herself to ask. When Hidan was as comfortable as he could get, she excused herself and walked away.
Nagato followed her. "An unfortunate accident. To be expected when dealing with great powers."
"Original Hidan would attempt to murder you for those words," Konan replied. This reply, too, sprang to her lips without thought. Was that a sign of danger, or perfectly normal? A week ago, she could have and had spoken just as effortlessly, and thought nothing of it. But now, every spontaneous action was cause for suspicion. Am I becoming paranoid? There really is no reason to be afraid at this point.
Nagato sighed. "Yes, he would. It would be his way of holding me accountable." He brushed past Konan, no longer looking at her, his attention diverted. Konan watched him go, both relieved and disappointed. Then she moved on. There was work to do.
In the haunted hospital
The demon boy frowned at some papers. "42. And here it says 44. We definitely lost two. Hey, have you seen that red-haired girl who likes balls anywhere?"
The snakelike toddler shook his head.
"Aw!" The demon boy threw down his papers. "How am I supposed to run a people zoo if my exhibits keep 'moving on' or 'going into the light' or whatever it is they're doing?!"
The snakelike toddler blinked, then slowly stuck his tongue out. That was his version of a smile.
"Okay, I'll try to be happy for them. But what am I gonna do with this fancy badge?!"
The snake boy held out his stuffed toy, inviting the demon to sit down on the floor and play a silly game of pretend. The demon boy accepted this offer. "Alright, Snakey! I'm enlisting you in the military! You're gonna learn to stand up straight and salute, soldier!" One minute of that was enough to wipe his mind clean of worry. After ten minutes, he was back to his usual exuberant self. He put Snakey down in a comfortable spot and took off his golden badge. Rubbing his thumb over its ridges, he decided, "I'm gonna keep it. I'm guardian of all the ghosts, not just the ones who live here. If all of these ghosts disappear, I'll still have lots to look after, and even if those all disappear, there will be more ghosts in the future." He pinned the badge back onto his shirt and patted it.
Sometime later, he and the snake boy were wandering the grounds. In back, there was a shed used by the gardeners. While studying the ivy growing up the side of the shed, the demon boy said, "I wonder if that guy who plays music is causing it. I don't remember any ghosts going missing before he started coming over with his guitar."
The snake boy silently followed a cricket with his eyes. It hopped along in plain sight, easy prey, then made a 90 degree turn and disappeared underneath the shed.
The demon boy jumped. "Do you think it was that song? That one song? Oh, well, it could've been that other one… Or that other one… That guy just plays too many hopeful songs!" The snake boy started humming one of them. The demon boy made suspicious eyes at him. "Oh, you think it's funny? See how you like it."
After circling the grounds, the demon boy's workday was done. He had time to kill. He turned invisible and flew off towards town, a common destination, but this time with an uncommon motive. He was looking for ghosts. As he neared the outskirts, he switched to his demon eyes. They looked like raw power barely restrained by an illusion of normalcy, and that was what they saw, too. Souls lit up all over town, looking like flames. The buildings and streets were visible only by outlines of soul energy. The demon boy stopped in midair and looked around. The problem with being able to see ghosts as well as you could see anybody else was that ghosts looked just like everybody else. The only reliable distinction was that ghosts tended to be messier. Their souls spread out, changed shape, shot off big bursts of energy. It took some time for a spirit that was used to being embodied to start doing that, but any clue was better than no clue.
He saw a messy soul and headed towards it. Hovering thirty feet above its location, he switched off his demon eyes and discovered that he was floating above the library. He glided down to the parking lot, looked around, saw nobody, and made himself visible. The ghostbusters would love this library. I'd better put protections around it to keep them out.
He walked into the library. A patron was returning some books at the front desk; another asked a question at reference. One was using a computer to search for a book, and the demon boy sensed more people in the stacks. A small group of older folks sat in comfy chairs reading magazines. The atmosphere was cozy. The demon boy understood why the ghost had come here. Even if they had not been a regular patron in life, any ghost could sense the welcoming and friendly nature of this building.
Following his soul sense, the demon boy walked up to the front desk. Three people were behind it. One of them, a lady in her 30s, had just finished helping the patron return their books. The other two were both male: one old, one young. They sat in chairs, quietly conversing. They stopped as the boy approached. "Can I help you?" the lady asked.
"I'm here to talk to that old guy," the boy replied.
The old man looked startled. He was between 80 and 90 years old. He was dressed in shades of brown and gray, in clothes that were loose but not tentlike on him. He looked perfectly healthy, which indicated that his cause of death had not had time to imprint itself on his self-image. An accident, probably. He looked content and calm, the sort of old person who adapts easily to a life of hanging out with friends on front porches and reading books. Not the sort of ghost who would usually stick around after death. Why's he here? Hm, I can think of a few options. Which one is it?
The young man was even more startled. "Ah… Well…" He looked at the lady. She pursed her lips and gestured for the boy to follow her around to a door in the desk, which she unlocked and held open. He slipped inside and sat on the chair that the young man had just vacated. The young man nervously gestured at the old man. "This is Mr. Chentworth. He was a regular. He didn't check out many books, but he donated a collection to us and participated in every fundraiser. A real friend of the library." The old man nodded.
The demon boy glanced at the lady, who pretended she was the only employee there. She can't see ghosts. He looked at Mr. Chentworth. "You're sticking around for a specific reason, aren't you?"
"Who are you?" the young man asked.
Uh… Pretend to be mysterious! "Who do you think I am?"
The two men looked at each other. The young man shrugged and shook his head. The old man studied the demon boy for several long seconds. Then he opened his mouth and spoke half in sounds, half in memories of a childhood dog.
The demon boy nodded. "Okay, you can call me Snowball." The young man's shoulders slumped in relief. He wasn't the most experienced medium, apparently. The demon boy ignored him. "So, whatcha want?"
The old ghost told him a story. After getting a wicked stomach virus that landed him in the hospital from dehydration and in the morgue from his body just deciding it wasn't worth it to recover, the old man had been ready to move on. At his funeral, he'd very nearly done it. He'd felt his spirit dissolving into a gentle mist. But then the grief of a loved one stabbed through him, pinning him to the physical world. His was the reverse of the typical Hollywood ghost story. Instead of resolving a ghost's unfinished business so that they could move on and leave living folk in peace, this ghost needed someone to help him resolve a living person's unfinished business so that the person would allow him to go in peace.
"Oh, that's the worst," the demon boy agreed. "I know some ghosts who are fine, but they still feel bad about their moms. Talk about being haunted."
Mr. Chentworth smiled. He said that the loved one in question was an old childhood friend, nearly a brother. The friend thought he was honoring their friendship by pretending that the death never happened, but really he was just too scared to face the prospect of having to find a new chess partner.
"Got it," the demon boy said. He made himself invisible and dissolved into a dark mist before zooming off toward the friend's house. He reformed his physical body and made himself visible on the front porch before knocking.
An old man of similar age, dressed in shades of dark gray and black, answered the door. He squinted and asked, "Who are you?"
The demon boy waved. "Hello there. I'm here on behalf of Mr. Chentworth. You can call me Snowball."
"Snowball?" The old man's eyes softened.
"Mr. Chentworth's alright. He looks just like he did when he was healthy. He doesn't feel any pain or anything. He said his body just decided not to waste its energy recovering." The demon boy paused to give the grief-stricken old man time to swallow a lump in his throat. "The only thing he's at all worried about is you. He was going to move on, but then he sensed how badly you were hurting and felt like he couldn't. You're haunting him."
"I'm haunting…?"
"Yup. Pretending that he's still around actually works - it keeps him around. It seems like you might have been doing that mindlessly, not thinking of what it would really mean. You should think about it now." The demon boy gave him a stern look. "You have the power to keep your old buddy around even if he doesn't really want to be here. Are you sure you want to wield that power? You have a choice. Think it over." He dissolved into dark mist before the old man's wide eyes, then turned invisible and flew away.
He sat on the roof of the library, still invisible, and sighed. There's an awful lot of power that shouldn't be used. Watching clouds drift by, he thought, My ghosts don't have any living people haunting them. They're pinning themselves. How does that guy with the guitar do it? How does he free them from themselves?
The demon boy flew back home to find out. But first, he placed a ward around the library grounds to keep out any wannabe ghostbusters.
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A/N: I gave the demon boy a name years ago in In Search Of Demons. Snowball is what it translates to in English. Ah, it'll be nice for him to finally have a name in this story.
The three songs that the demon boy suspects are responsible for helping his ghosts to move on are "Long Long Journey" by Enya, "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel, and "Comes and Goes" by Greg Laswell. Those aren't the only possible culprits, either. I really like this sort of music.
See y'all next week!