Ragnarok

The End is only The Beginning

 

         Sakura petals swirled, dancing on the wind.  They fluttered about in a strange, ancient rhythm, dipping down to rest on the ground briefly before soaring upwards once more.  Children ran by in bare feet, squishing those unlucky few remaining on the dirt road.

 

         Innocence tarnished by mud.

 

         Hiketsu watched from a distance, half-hidden behind an old, gnarled tree of a species he couldn’t identify off-hand.  Dulled emerald eyes watched the other children play, their joyful laughter ringing throughout the area.

 

         A trio of mothers stood to one side.  They averted their gaze as he glanced at them, hushed whispers springing up as they huddled together.  One or two would sneak a peek at him, flushing in embarrassment before turning away again.

 

         Hiketsu took a step back.  The shadows created by the trees flowed over him, trying to shelter the boy from pity-filled eyes.  His chest hurt for some reason whenever he spied on scenes similar to the one before him.  Was this…was this what his mother referred to as “sadness”?

 

         A slim, pale hand rose to clutch a handful of soft fabric.  “Mama,” he whispered.  It hurt to think of her.  His nightmares grew more horrible every night to the point where even the happiest of memories were stained crimson, and every loving glance was transformed into a death-glazed stare.

 

         A rough hand grabbed his shoulder, yanking him backwards even deeper into the trees.  Four men stared at him with leering gazes, the youngest appearing to be around 15-years-old while the oldest barely topped 21.  Their faces were flushed with alcohol, and the way his captor was running a calloused hand over his bare shoulder was making Hiketsu nervous.

 

         The eldest snatched the young boy’s jaw, forcing it upward.  His rough, tanned hand held fast as his face loomed forward.  Hiketsu wrinkled his nose in disgust – his attacker’s breath was rank and disturbing.

 

         The youngest attacker shifted from foot to foot, torn between perverse loyalty and a desire to run.  “Aki,” he began nervously, addressing the eldest, “are you sure we should be doing this?”

 

         “Quiet,” Aki murmured softly.  The 15-year-old froze, clamping his jaw as if to keep another word from escaping.  The leader turned his attention back on Hiketsu with a disquieting grin.  “So,” he enunciated softly, “this is the Shogun’s…new toy.”

 

         His hand loosened and traveled down the child’s neck in a light caress.  It slipped downward, pushing the kimono aside to leave the other shoulder bare.  Aki’s other hand traveled upward, fingering the obi sash.  “Beautiful, like a kitsune.  The Shogun is very lucky indeed.”  He stopped stroking Hiketsu’s shoulder, squeezing it hard instead as he leaned in closer.  The child gasped, one eye squeezing shut – this was going to bruise.

 

         Aki chuckled lightly.  “I’m feeling lucky today.”

 

         The bushes rustled and snarled.  The youngest of the group panicked and ran, tripping on a branch along the way.  Aki backed up and stared at the moving foliage with the rest of his comrades.

 

         A snout emerged from the leaves, quickly followed by the small, onyx black body of a wolf cub.  It snarled, flapping its tiny, black wings as it snapped at the laughing men.  Aki stopped laughing, frowning as he kicked the small animal back into the bush.  “Damn demonic creature interrupted my fun.”

 

         Another growl sounded behind them.  He swiveled around, readying another swift blow.  “How many of these blasted unnatural creatures are…there…”

 

         The wolf behind them was certainly no child.  Standing at three feet from paw to shoulder, it could easily take down a grown man.  Unlike the cub, the adult’s shadowed fur was more gray than black – signifying its great age – and its wings were dull and ratty, losing feathers at a faster pace then it could replace them.

 

         The adults paled, taking a step back for every step the growling animal took forward.  They screamed and ran as the wolf showed its teeth and it sprinted off after them, eager to take revenge on those who hurt its cub.

 

         Hiketsu was left staring at the place they had all departed, barely noticing as the wolf cub returned to lay its head in his lap before dozing off.

 

         Hisoka watched as the scene faded before his eyes.  He slowly became aware of himself again – aware that he was Kurosaki Hisoka and not this strange child whose past he was watching.

 

         ‘That was so long ago.  She would give me a quizzical look about my nostalgia before realizing the proper response would be to laugh.’

 

         The empath stiffened.  It was that voice again – the voice that had haunted him when the dreams had started changing to something else.  It was that voice which had put him through so much pain and, he suspected, was the culprit in his fainting spell before the mission had started.

 

         ‘Who are you?’  Hisoka snarled mentally.  ‘Get out of my head!’

 

         There was no reply, no sound, and no sight as he sat in the emptiness of his own mind.  And then, faintly, as if almost to be an echo:

 

         ‘Who are you?’

 

         And Hisoka awoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

         A grunt in the darkness, followed by the wailing death cry of a daemon. 

 

         “Well, that takes care of that.  This thing won’t be murdering the girls at Sakurayuki High anymore,” a soft, masculine voice stated.  A teenage boy, looking to be about seventeen, stepped out of the alleyway and into the lamplight.  The corpse of the daemon could be seen behind him – its tiger-stripped body dismembered and bloody.

 

         A wolf stepped out to stand beside the boy, growling softly.  The teenage boy snorted, giving the animal a glare.   “Of course I remember how to dispose of a daemon’s body!  Do I look stupid?”

 

         The wolf gave him an equivalent of a grin, not quite showing him her fangs as she snorted.

 

         “Okay.”  The boy replied, running a hand through red hair.  “ So perhaps I was asking for that sort of reply.” He bit his lip.  “But you didn’t have to be so mean about it!”  He whined.

 

         The wolf gave him a piercing stare before trotting back into the alleyway and disappearing.  The boy sighed.  “Children of Shadows…they’re all the same, even after 600 years.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

         “It was a clash of titans, an ominous wind whirling around the arena with a fierce – Ow!”

 

         “Now is not the time for jokes, young one,” Genbu lectured.  However, as he retrieved his staff from Byakko’s head, a twinkle could be seen in his eye.

 

         “Fine,” the Tiger God pouted, rubbing his head gingerly as he stuck his tongue out behind the senior god’s back.

 

         “And I saw that.”

 

         “Eep!”

 

         Far away there was no mischievous air, no laughter.  For it was indeed a clash of titans.  Sohryu and Enma gave each other neutral looks, the tense air belying their outward appearances of practiced calm.

 

         “You are not making any sense, Enma-daioh,” Sohryu started with what felt for the umpteenth time, “but a shikigami’s duty is to protect his master at all costs.  What you are asking – ”

 

         “What I am asking,” Enma interrupted, “is nothing more than to do your duty.  You must not tell Tsuzuki.”

 

         The Dragon God’s mouth twitched in a tiny frown before smoothing out again.  “And how is not telling Tsuzuki about the daemon and his role in all this ‘protecting him’?  Without knowledge of the daemon, the pair of them will surely die.”

 

         “When he next requires your aid, you can inform Tsuzuki of how to destroy the daemon, but nothing else.  To say anything else may truly send him into the clutches of a dark fiend that he can never escape from.”

 

         “Oh?  And who would that be?”

 

         “The person he used to be.”

 

         Sohryu’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly.  “You mean…”

 

         “Yes.  If you tell him, one of the most powerful fallen angels will prowl among us once again.  That must not happen.  At any cost.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

         “-an!….tari-san!”

 

         There was something calling him.  A high-pitched, squeaky voice that refused to let him rest.

 

         “Watari-san!”

 

         The blond scientist murmured something imperceptible.  Where was his stuffed toy?  He never slept without it…One brown eye cracked open, spotting a floating white object.  Squashing the tiny mental voice which pointed out that stuffed toys do not fly, Watari reached out and, with a mighty tug, settled back down to finish his nap while cuddling his prize.  Now, if only his toy would stop squawking…

 

         Wait.  His stuffed toy didn’t squawk – it was a cute little swan.

 

         “Ow!”  Watari shot upright, releasing whatever he had grabbed while groping for his glasses with the other.  Whatever it was had bit him! 

 

         “I’m so sorry, Watari-san.” The thing apologized, its voice still squeaking.  “But I had no idea of what else to do.”

 

         As he slid his glasses on, the offensive white blur transformed into a very worried looking younger Gushoshin.   “It was you that I grabbed?” Watari asked, laughter in his voice.

 

         The Gushoshin sniffed lightly as if offended.  “I came in here to wake Watari-san up, and I’m treated like a stuffed toy.”  He leaned forward to waggle a finger in front of the scientist’s nose, yet a twinkle could be seen in its eye.  “Watari-san must make sure that it never happens again.”

 

         Watari gave the Gushoshin a mock salute.  “Aye aye, Captain Feathers!”

 

         The Gushoshin laughed.  “Life is always much more interesting with Watari-san around!”  It gave him a conspiratorial wink, “ and I’m sure Tatsumi-san thinks so, too.”

 

         For some reason, the mention of the secretary sucked all of the laughter out of him.  “I’m not quite sure Tatsumi thinks that way,” Watari replied with a weak laugh.  “You should always hear him threatening to cut my budget.”

 

         “So?”  The Gushoshin countered, smiling.  “He always threatens to cut Tsuzuki-san’s food budget.”  It leaned in closer.  “Watari-san needs to stop thinking about words.  After all, it’s the actions which tell the truth.”

 

         Watari blinked.  Relationship advice – from a Gushoshin?  This day was definitely up there in his weirdness scale.  Which, given his lifestyle, was certainly saying something.

 

         “Anyway,” it continued, giving the scientist no more time to think, “ I came in here to see you had dropped your book.  I picked it up, but Watari-san must really learn to take care of books properly!”

 

         Watari stretched as the librarian left – even being a Shinigami didn’t stop one from getting a stiff neck after sleeping in such an uncomfortable position.  Pulling the book back into his lap, he rubbed one eye sleepily.

 

         And froze.  This…this was impossible.  How…?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

         The daemon snarled under its breath, folding its wings as it crept into the alleyway.  One of his own kind had been killed here, and rather messily too.  It frowned, the only remain was a large bloodstain.  Either the daemon wasn’t injured badly and could regenerate quickly enough to get away, or…

 

         Or he was dealing with a professional, someone with the knowledge of how to keep daemon from coming back for a longer period of time.

 

         The daemon stiffened as magic washed over its senses.  It crouched, backing away into the shadows as the being possessing this power walked in.  Until it had a feeling if this was friend or foe – it would wait.  Patience was all.

 

         The magical being, at first glance, did not seem to belong in this place.  Pale, porcelain skin and light silver hair shined with an unearthly luminance.  The white trench coat almost seemed to repel dirt, standing out sharply against the dingy brick wall.

 

         Muraki smiled at the daemon.  “Hello.”

 

 

Author’s Notes – Gyah! *Bows deeply*  So sorry for the delay!  This chapter was done and sent to my beta reader around mid-May, but she contacted me a few days ago asking how said chapter was coming along.  She never received it!  So, yes, I’m still working on this (chapter 7 is almost done)

 

Another thing I’m grumbling about is the short-ness of this chapter.  I seem to be reverting back to my Pre-Ragnarok style of writing when it comes to length.  This is something that I will make an effort to fix. 

 

And if any of you read X fanfiction, I have a teeny one-shot for Subaru which will make its debut within a few days.  It’s weird – even for me. @_@  You have been warned.