Aftermath
By Karasu Yurei and Kouri Arashi
Part One
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“And you don’t seem to understand
A shame you seemed an honest man
And all the fears you hold so dear
Will turn to whisper in your ear
And you know what they say might hurt you
And you know that it means so much
And you don’t even feel a thing.”
-- Lain, "Duvet"
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Kamui looked down at the fight below him and pondered what to do. It hadn’t been going to badly at the beginning, but as it lasted longer, Subaru was starting to lose. Completely.
This, Kamui decided, was unacceptable.
He looked around for anything that might give his older friend the advantage against his nemesis. From his vantage point on top of Tokyo Tower, he could see most of the city. Subaru’s battle with Seishirou was clearly visible. He considered trying to blast Seishirou from where he was, but he might hit Subaru as well. If he tried to fly closer, Seishirou would know long before he got there.
He scanned the city.
His gaze landed on Ueno Park.
What the hell, it’s worth a try, he thought. He gathered his energy and aimed it in the direction of the Sakurazuka. There was a large explosion. Kamui nodded in satisfaction. That ought to at least knock Seishirou off kilter for a minute; maybe it would give Subaru the chance to finish the battle.
Kamui turned to see what was going to happen, but before he could, he heard Fuuma’s voice behind him.
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Seishirou smiled in predatory satisfaction as Subaru struggled to his feet for at least the third time. Strangely enough, he was finding himself disappointed at how easily Subaru was giving in. “Subaru-kun, stand up and put some effort into this.”
Subaru managed to stand up and gasp out, “I’m going to kill you.”
“It would be nice if you’d try.”
“Bastard!” Subaru yelled.
Seishirou shrugged and waited to see what Subaru would do.
He was not at all expecting what happened next.
His first thought was that the world had exploded around his ears, then all thoughts were lost in a tidal wave of emotion. He reeled for balance and ended up on his hands and knees, gasping for breath.
Apparently, his statement to Subaru had gotten through. He had to admit that he had no idea what Subaru had done, but whatever it was had caused problems. He tried to get to his feet, only to drop back down as another wave of dizziness and disorientation washed over him.
“Seishirou-san?”
He could hear the confusion, almost concern, in Subaru’s voice as the younger man leaned over him. Instinct took over and he threw everything he had in Subaru’s general direction, which he could only approximate since his vision was rather blurry. He saw Subaru go flying backwards and land flat on his back about ten feet away. The omnyouji tried once to get up, then went limp.
Seishirou struggled to his feet as his vision cleared and wavered his way over to his fallen enemy. For Subaru to even still be alive meant his power had been drained severely by - by - whatever it was Subaru had done.
He felt himself losing his balance again and reached to the Sakurazuka for both some strength and some mental support.
It wasn’t there.
Seishirou reached out to steady himself, found nothing to grab hold of, and ended up on the ground again.
What had happened to the Sakurazuka?
Whatever it was, Subaru hadn’t done it. That was impossible. To harm the Tree took more power than Subaru would ever have.
Now that this had been determined, Seishirou felt an odd wave of - something - washing over him as he looked at Subaru. After a moment, he placed it as regret. This . . . is disturbing, he thought. He realized, however, that with the destruction of the Tree, it was perfectly logical that the spell which prevented him from feeling would also have been destroyed.
Logical, yes, but still highly disturbing.
He made it to his feet again, and was satisfied when his knees didn’t show any signs of giving underneath him again.
He decided it was time to beat feet. There was no point in sticking around here. Still wavering slightly, he began to walk away.
Behind him, Subaru let out a faint moan.
Seishirou stopped.
Unbidden, the thought, I can’t just leave him here . . . arose in his mind.
Of course you can, he told himself firmly, and began to walk again.
“Sei . . . shirou . . . san . . .”
Damn it.
He stopped again.
Turned around. Subaru was still lying, heap like, where he’d fallen. His eyes were closed; he was unconscious.
This is my fault, Seishirou thought, then wondered why he was thinking it.
The logical part of his brain spoke up. Either leave him here or take him with you, but stop standing in the middle of the street agonizing over it.
He picked Subaru up.
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“I think I’ve let this wait long enough, don’t you?” Fuuma landed on the platform facing Kamui.
“Fuuma?” Kamui asked cautiously.
“Omae o korosu!”
“Fuuma, don’t!” Kamui began to back away as Fuuma raised his Shinken. Instinctively, he reached for his own sword. His mind drifted back to that morning, when the others had insisted he take it with him. Today is supposed to be the last day, after all . . . Hinoto had said. Fuuma walked toward him slowly, matching him step for step. “Fuuma, don’t do this,” Kamui said slowly. “I know you’re still in there somewhere, Fuuma.”
Fuuma’s answer was to lift up a hand and send Kamui flying across the platform. He landed hard on his back and skidded, ripping his shirt and jolting most of his bones. After a moment, he climbed back to his feet.
“You can’t win this unless you kill me, you know,” Fuuma remarked impassively.
Kamui growled and swung the sword forward in an arc. Fuuma countered the blow easily and stepped aside. Kamui tried too late to stop his running lunge and went flying as Fuuma tripped him easily. He skinned both of his elbows on landing and knocked the wind out of himself. The sword flew out of his hand and landed with a metallic clang a few feet away.
Fuuma walked over and looked down coldly, nudging Kamui in the ribs, hard. Kamui let out a gasping cry and flinched away, trying to struggle to his feet. He made it to his hands and knees, which only resulted in Fuuma kicking him again, harder, in the stomach. Kamui fell backwards, both arms crossing over his stomach.
“You could at least put a little effort into this,” Fuuma said.
Kamui drew in a ragged breath and made it to his feet. His eyes darted nervously to the sword. He edged towards it cautiously, keeping his gaze on Fuuma.
“That’s good, go for the sword,” Fuuma said, sounding encouraging.
Kamui lifted a hand in Fuuma’s direction, energy flowing through his fingers. The impact was enough to knock Fuuma off balance. Kamui leapt for the sword and whirled around, swinging wildly.
Fuuma regained his balance and blocked, countering with a blow of his own. Kamui staggered backwards, holding the sword in front of him defensively. Fuuma swung forward and connected again. Kamui overbalanced and fell, still holding the sword out. Fuuma aimed lower, making Kamui roll out of the way, unable to block. Before he could regain his bearings, he felt a sharp pain in his side.
“K’so!” Kamui managed to make it to his feet, giving a quick glance at the bleeding gash. It wasn’t serious. Fuuma obviously wasn’t done playing with him yet.
There was a blur to his left. A little dazed, Kamui didn’t turn in time, and soon he had another gash on his other side, matching the first. Kamui doubled over, nearly going to his knees again. Fuuma waited for him to straighten, then hit him in the stomach with the flat of the sword. Kamui let out another cry and folded inward, all the strength going out of his knees, dropping the sword.
Fuuma grabbed him by the hair and dragged him upwards, pinning him against the wall by the throat. He leaned very close. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
Kamui’s eyes widened; he made a valiant effort to free himself. Fuuma dropped him abruptly. He crumpled into a heap and began to crawl away, trying to figure out where his sword had gone. It was still lying where he’d dropped it, a few feet away.
Fuuma watched as he crawled for it, waiting to see how far he would get. Surprisingly, Kamui made it to the sword, but couldn’t manage to make it to his feet.
Fuuma walked over. “Still trying to win?”
Kamui made it to his knees, dragging the sword on the ground as he turned to face Fuuma. “I hate you,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You took everything from me!”
Fuuma lifted an eyebrow. “Well, this is a change from the cute little Kamui that keeps asking for his Fuuma back, isn’t it.”
“You’re not Fuuma,” Kamui spat. “You killed Fuuma.”
“And now I’ll kill you.” Fuuma stretched his arm out to the side, prepared to slice sideways, his arm on a level with Kamui’s neck. “Shinae.”
Kamui waited until the last second, then ducked forward, under the sword, thrusting his own sword forward. From his angle, it went under Fuuma’s arm and solidly into his chest.
Fuuma’s sword flew off to the side as he let it go. His knees gave and he crumpled to the ground. He coughed once, then groaned.
“Fuuma . . .” Kamui whispered, staring at his hands. He dropped the sword and crawled over. “Iie . . .”
Fuuma blinked, looking up at him dazedly. “K-Kamui? Where . . . what happened?”
Kamui’s eyes widened. “Fuuma, it’s . . . you . . .”
“What happened to you?” Fuuma reached one hand up. “You’re . . . hurt . . .”
“Fuuma,” Kamui repeated numbly, then felt the blackness closing in as he slid to Fuuma’s side and fainted.
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A strong wind tore through Ueno Park, scattering the sakura petals that were falling like snow. An unearthly howl echoed through the trees. The air was tinged with a distinct smell of blood.
The last of the tree fell to the ground with a crash, crumbling into ashes. The wind tugged the last of the petals from its withered branches and sending them spiraling.
The air crackled with energy as hundreds of spirits surged free.
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