Warning: darkfic ahead. If you're not really in the mood to deal with mature subject matter, then I suggest you run for the hills. Now.
Still here? Good. Don't say I didn't warn you.....
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, someone else does.
Oh, before I forget, C&C/MST/anything is, as usual, begged for/vastly appreciated. Thought I'd throw that in there too.... =^_~=
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*~* Hidden Fires *~*
Chapter 2: Child of Shadows, Child of Fear
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"Do you hear the children weeping, O my brothers/
Ere the sorrow comes with years?"
- Elizabeth Barret Browning
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Momiji dipped the soft cloth into the basin of ice water; gently wringing out most of the water, she watched as the droplets formed little ripples in the water's surface. Kusanagi's fever had risen dangerously high over the past few hours, and none of the medications that Matsudaira had given him were working. He had reacted so badly to so many of the drugs that she was afraid to give him anything else. So until Matsudaira could find a better solution, Momiji was charged with sponging him down with ice water in the remote chance that it would break the fever.
She dipped the end of the rag back into the basin and let the water drip onto his bare chest. The teen watched the droplets roll over his copper skin, tracing the contour of every muscle; she brushed them away just before the water could soak into the bandages that wrapped his torso. Taking another bit of cloth, Momiji soaked it in the icy water for a minute before draping it over his forehead. He shivered and moaned softly from the depths of his coma. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat as she moved closer to him. "Kusanagi? Can you hear me?"
There was no answer; Momiji sighed heavily and returned to her task.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~* The next three years of Kusanagi's life was spent in training with his inhuman master. The morning of his transformation was but a dim memory in his mind; every waking moment was spent in endless training. Not a day passed that he didn't feel the sting of his master's punishment; not a day went by that he didn't curl up to sleep totally exhausted from continual sparring. His four-year-old mind was continually infused with blind knowledge of survival tactics and information on modern weaponry and technology. At night, or what passed as night in that solitary world, his mind would reel with strange, distorted memories of the past. There was no human contact, no understanding of the normal life that he had been torn from.
Many children in such an environment would have given themselves totally to the nightmare. Kusanagi was an exception; there was a streak of rebelliousness in him that kept him from breaking under the pressure. He fought, not out of necessity, but of a subconscious need to free himself from the constraints of slavery. One day, he was pushed beyond all limits.
That was the day Orochi discovered the might of a child's will.
Sixteen hours had gone into the demon's latest training of his 'pupil'; sixteen long hours of endless fighting and dodging all to the purpose of making Kusanagi develop control of his powers. Sixteen hours - and the child had not manifested any power beyond that of a few meager ki blasts. Orochi lashed out, openly frustrated at the lack of progress. The child barely managed to dodge the flying tentacle before crashing into a craggy stalactite. *Try it again,* Yamata-no-Orochi hissed, it's huge head wavering in front of the boy.
Kusanagi stared up at his master. A strange fire seemed to burn in the child's eyes, a flame of pure hatred. Fighting his exhaustion, he stood up and turned his back on the Aragami. "No!" he shouted defiantly. "I don't wanna!"
*What?!?* Orochi's eyes narrowed into angry slits; one long tentacle whirled the child around to stare at it face-to-face. *WHAT did you say to me?*
"I said *no*!" He sniffled a little and wiped his eyes with one grubby little hand. "Sleepy . . . . Wanna go to bed!"
The Aragami wrapped a tentacle around the child's throat and lifted him over three stories high to eye level. *You will do as I say, little toy,* it growled, slowly throttling him. *You will do AS I TELL YOU!!!*
"Stop it - " Kusanagi grunted, struggling mightily to loosen the grip. Nothing seemed to faze the monster; he finally sunk his teeth into the appendage around his throat, tearing away a chunk of flesh in a spray of blood.
*You little bastard . . . ! * The Aragami's eyes flashed bright red; suddenly, every mitama on the boy's body began pulsating in an eerie blue light. Daggers of pain shot up his arms and legs; the three mitamas on his chest seemed to sear through his flesh down to the bone. He screamed in agony as wave after wave of spasms ripped through him. The mitamas on his hands blazed bright like miniature suns; twin blades split his forearms and snapped into place. After what seemed an eternity, the pain began to fade away and his shrieks died down into helpless sobs.
*Good.* The monster appraised the child, grasping one arm in a slick tentacle and prodding at the sword that jutted out. *Remember this well, and always be prepared to attack with your weapons. Now go and gather your strength for the next exercise.* It unceremoniously dropped him to the floor, where he lay for several seconds before struggling to his feet.
*Kusanagi?* The child turned; one thick tentacle lashed out and backhanded the four-year-old, knocking him across the cavern. *Never even THINK of disobeying me again, boy,* Orochi snarled as the child picked himself back up. He stared up at it, tears finally falling down his bruised face, then turned and fled the cavern. *~*
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"Momiji?" The teen glanced up from her tender ministrations to see Kunikida standing in the doorway. "It's almost midnight; why don't you let me drive you home so you can get some sleep?"
The basin of water slipped from her hands to splash onto the floor. "What? But - but I can't just leave him like this! I promised Mrs. Matsudaira that I'd watch over him! Besides," and she fought back the tears, "I can't go . . . something might happen to him, and then I'd never . . . never get to tell him . . . . "
Kunikida sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that she would eventually drift to sleep; what good would it do to let her wear herself out? He watched her lovingly shift the sheets around Kusanagi's still form and couldn't bring himself to deny her request. She couldn't be anywhere but by his side. Separating the two of them could be fatal; the young man needed all the strength and support he could get to survive. "All right, then," the older man conceded, "but you have to promise to at least *try* to get some sleep. Making yourself sick won't help him any."
"Thank you, Mr. Kunikida," she whispered, forcing a faint smile. The head of the TAC nodded heavily and stepped outside the infirmary, easing the door behind him shut.
"How is she?"
Kunikida turned to see Matsudaira sitting in front of her computer, a test tube in one hand and a sheaf of paper in the other. The harsh light of the screen accentuated the intense scowl she wore on her face. She punched a few more keys, then leaned back to look at her boss. "Well? How is she holding up?"
He shook his head and walked towards her. "She won't leave his side. I can't refuse her that - she really cares for him, and that's something I don't think Kaede ever knew - " He cleared his throat abashedly and changed the subject. "Matsudaira, do you *really* think that Kusanagi won't survive this? I can't believe that something as simple as a virus could put him down."
"And you would be right. It's not a virus; there is no microorganism *or* parasite infecting him right now." She pulled up a few files and pointed at the screen. "Something is keeping his body from repairing his injuries. His healing rate right now is only about a quarter that of a normal human being's." Her fingers danced over the keyboard, bringing up a new set of images. "Whatever it is also is making his immune system attack the healthy tissue around his heart and lungs."
Kunikida paused. "Around the heart . . . . That's where he was stabbed, wasn't it? In that area?"
Matsudaira nodded wearily. "I've never seen any sort of disorder that would cause such specialized damage; the only thing I can think of that could even resemble this type of disorder is a genetically engineered organism, and there is nothing infecting him now." She pushed herself away from the computer and slumped in her chair. "And since he has such severe reactions to normal medications, I can't give him anything to alleviate the fever or the pain . . . . "
"So there is no hope for him."
She turned to him. "That's what I thought at first," she admitted softly, "but Momiji believes in him despite the problems we've had. She has faith in him, and the ability to cling to hope . . . and that was something I had lost sight of. She showed me what hope really means." She sighed and looked him straight in the face. "Momiji has faith that he will recover - and so do I."
Kunikida nodded once, decisively. "And I believe in the both of you," he said.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"There you are."
Murakumo stepped back to admire his next victim. The serpent center at the zoo was silent save for the occasional warning hiss; it was if every snake knew instinctively to avoid the intruder. He had made certain that there would be no intruders. The slumped bodies of the security guards were testament to that fact.
The Aragami had paused in front of a single terrarium. A coiled shadow inside stirred slightly at his approach; it slithered up to the glass, hissing loudly. Murakumo smiled slightly as he watched the king cobra strike at him, the snake's venom dripping down the glass panel. "You'll do nicely," he said. Lengthening one fingernail into a sharpened claw, he traced a circle around the glass and let the piece fall and shatter on the floor. As fast as the eye could see, the cobra lunged for him; quicker than that, his hand wrapped itself around the snake's head. "Nicely, indeed . . . . "
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The fax machine began buzzing and shooting out papers at the same time that the phone began to ring. Matsudaira looked up blearily from her report; Kunikida had at some point during the night drifted to sleep in his chair. She sighed and picked up the phone. "TAC, Matsudaira speaking . . . . What?!? Yes, sir! We're on our way!" She shot up out of her seat and rushed to the boss's side. "Mr. Kunikida!!" She shook the man awake roughly. "There's an Aragami attacking near Yokohama!"
He snapped awake, instantly alert. "An Aragami? Go get Momiji; I'll page the others!"
Matsudaira nodded and burst into the infirmary. Momiji had fallen asleep at Kusanagi's bedside. The teenaged princess's head rested on his uninjured shoulder; one arm was flung over his chest in a sleepy embrace. The remnants of her tears streaked the young man's orange skin. "Momiji! Momiji, wake up!" the older woman barked, shaking the girl.
She bolted awake. "Huh? Wha- what's going on? Is Kusanagi all right?!?"
"It's not that; an Aragami has been sighted just outside of Tokyo! Hurry up!"
Momiji nodded grimly and, taking in one last look at the comatose man beside her, jumped up. "I'll be right with you!" she said.
When the woman left, she walked over and paused for a moment at the closet. Kusanagi's tattered red trenchcoat hung forlornly on the inside of the door; in a flash of inspiration, she grabbed it and slipped it on.
"Momiji, come on!"
"Coming!" She glanced over at the corner of the room, checking his vital signs one last time. "I'll be right back . . . . Hang on, Kusanagi," she whispered as she shut the door.
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Momiji huddled in the corner of the van as the TAC raced towards the site, ignoring the team's excited chatter. She drew the collar of the oversized trenchcoat up around her face; having it with her was comforting, as though a little piece of him was with her. The coat had the slightest odor of freshly-mown grass, underlined with a trace of sweat. The ragged edges of the sleeves were stained with his foreign blood. She brooded, idly running her fingers over the coat sleeves, until the mitama on her chest began to glow slightly. "It's coming," she breathed, leaning towards the team..
"What?" Takeuchi exclaimed. "Is it close?"
"It's coming towards us . . . . Mr. Kunikida, stop the van! Stop!"
As the van skidded to a halt outside of a dense forest, the trees began to sway and crack under some unseen pressure. Suddenly, a colossal serpent slithered out of the area, hissing maniacally. Gold-tinged venom oozed from its eight foot long fangs; its scales, each the size of a full-grown man, shimmered in the beginning sunrise. The hood around the king cobra's head was ringed with vicious barbs that continued down the sides of its body to end in an immense spike on the tip of its tail. The ground around it was littered with trashed jeeps from the Self-Defense Force and with not a few fresh corpses. Koume leaped out of the van and immediately fired upon it with her bazooka; the charge did little more than knock a few of its scales off. "Damn, that thing's tough!" she shouted.
Yaegashi tumbled out of the van with a huge briefcase, followed by Matsudaira. "Koume, Takeuchi, distract that thing while we get the bio-reactor ready - "
"Your bio-weapons are useless against this creature," a voice taunted the team. They turned to look at the source; a blue ki blast caughtYaegashi in the gut, slamming him into the side of the van.
"Yoshiki!" Koume immediately dropped her bazooka and dashed to his side.
Murakumo hovered in the air above them, watching them contemptuously; he examined the carnage and sneered. "Your struggles are useless, puny humans. You'll never win this war." He paused and laughed. "I see that imperfect soul Kusanagi isn't here with you. Such a shame . . . . "
"What's *that* supposed to mean?" Momiji shouted. She pushed her way to the front, a righteous fury blazing in her eyes.
"It means, princess Kushinada," Murakumo stated, "that soon we will no longer be troubled with that traitor." He smiled slightly as sudden comprehension dawned on the TAC. "His seven souls will slowly destroy him from the inside. A fitting way for him to die."
Livid with rage, Momiji raced out into the field and snatched Koume's discarded bazooka. "I'll NEVER let him die, you. . . you jerk!" she screamed, firing at him. "He won't die! I won't let him!"
Two strong arms suddenly pulled her back, restraining her. "Momiji, no! He'll kill you too!" Kunikida yelled over the din. "Don't fire at him!"
The Aragami laughed again. "Oh, that I wish I could get rid of you. Unfortunately, I don't have a ceramic field set up here." He paused as a mitama on his hand flickered a sickly light; Momiji's mitama glowed slightly in response. "Think about what I have said, humans. Soon, our kingdom, the kingdom of the Aragami, will rule this world again!" His sneering laugh echoed through the air as both he and the snake-Aragami vanished.
The TAC stared after him in confusion. "Why would he leave when he has us at a disadvantage?" Takeuchi wondered aloud, reluctantly putting her revolver away. "It just doesn't make sense."
Kunikida nodded reluctantly and turned to the team; behind him, Yaegashi was struggling to his feet. "I don't have a good feeling about this," he muttered to himself. Then, raising his voice, he said, "Let's get back to the office now before he changes his mind and decides to come back with that thing."
A hand tugged a his sleeve. "Mr. Kunikida, Mrs. Matsudaira, what he said . . . it can't be true, can it?" Momiji begged, tears running down her cheeks. "Please . . . . "
The two could only stare back at her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I have set it up as you wanted, although I think you are making a mistake."
Murakumo leaned back against a tree and idly watched as Kaede began a purification ritual for the tiny shrine in the woods. She was dressed in the traditional robes of a *miko*, or Shinto priestess; the infant god Susano-oh was swaddled up and laying in a thick clump of grass, his piercing gaze following every move of the princess Kushinada. "We are here to follow our lord Susano-oh's wishes, not speculate on the reasoning behind his wants," she stated simply.
"Hmmm . . . . " He stepped forward, past Kaede, and touched a spot on the tatami inside. A fleck of dried green blood came off onto his finger. "Now I see why you are performing this ritual. It seems that imperfect soul has been here recently."
She shrugged. "Remove that tatami and replace it with a fresh one. I can have no impurities soiling the bed of our lord." She gathered up several branches from the sacred sakaki tree and waited for him to move before beginning the ritual.
Murakumo leaned back up against his tree, incinerating the blood-stained tatami with an offhand ki blast. "The Aragami cannot wait forever, princess Kushinada," he snarled under his breath. "And we shall *not* wait much longer . . . . "
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Momiji was the first to hear the high-pitched strains of an alarm going off inside the office. She ran for the infirmary and threw open the door -
Kusanagi had somehow tumbled to the floor and was caught in an epileptic fit. The convulsions thrashed his body against the equipment, knocking over several monitors. The violent movements had ripped open his wounds; blood had soaked through the bandages on his torso and was now seeping onto the floor. The teen gasped in horror and dashed to his side, Matsudaira hot on her heels.
Just before they could reach him, his eyes flew open as he let out an inhuman scream of agony. The scream became strangled as verdant blood spewed from his mouth. He choked out another cry as his body arced in mid-air, transfixed by the sudden blinding light of his seven mitamas; suddenly, he gave one final gasp and collapsed to the floor.
The alarms began blaring as the heart monitor faded down into a flat line.