Ahem. I kinda erased Chris' comments, but they were slightly inco-
herent anyway. :) He basically says, just read the fic.
Lara
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The figures cloaked in darkness moved silently through the night.
What they were doing was best left undiscovered to any gentle soul.
The schemes of the damned usually are.
They moved as swiftly as they could in the complete blackness,
pushing themselves to move faster still. This was not something they
would be treated mercifully for if they were caught.
The shape they carried between them was beginning to strain their
arms, nothing but dead weight sagging as their breath became laboured.
Yet, silence was what they needed, so they carefully controlled their
rasping breath, making it as silent as the depth of the night around
them.
Even when they had delivered their grisly cargo, the control was
not released. Not until they were gone far away from the den of evil
and corruption of the soul would they relax.
The look on her face... It had been ecstatic.
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| | \ \ | | \ \ .| | | |.| | | | \ \ / \ \ /
| | / / | |__\ | | | \| | | |\ /| |.| |__\ |/ /\ \/
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| |/ / .| ___ |.| |.| |.| |.| | | | | ___ /\ \/ /
| |\ \ | | .| |.| |.| |.| |.| |.| |.| | ./ |\ /
| | \ \ .| | | |.| |..\ |.| |.| |.| | | | /| | \
|_|. \__\ |_|. .|_|.|_|...\/..|_|.|_|.|_|.|_|. \|_| \
/\ \ /
Created by Christopher Willmore. / \ \ /
<4cw6@qlink.queensu.ca> / / \/
Based on a story by Rumiko Takahashi and /
Developed by C. Michael Schumacher / /
\ /
R2096 pages: http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/ \/(Logo:Armakuni)
============================================================================
The Fall of Heaven - Alpha Draft
============================================================================
by Lara Bartram <lara@emunix.emich.edu>
Edited by C. Willmore
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R2096 characters and situations used with permission. Takahashi's aren't.
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PART ONE: LIBERA ME
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'May Heaven forgive the folly and morbidity which led us both to so
monstrous a fate!'
- 'The Hound' by H.P. Lovecraft
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* * * [1996] * * *
Denial. Denial. Denial. And there could be no more denial.
Gone forever. Tendo Akane was gone forever from his grasp and he
could no longer deny it.
There was a point in time at which a man could not cry, no matter
what the tragedy. The joy at finding out the sorcerer Saotome had
been killed had quickly been erased at the news of Akane's death. He
could not cry. He was a man and could not cry.
But he did anyway.
His pig-tailed goddess was gone, disappeared into thin air. No
one would tell him where she had gone. They conspired against him to
keep him miserable. They conspired against him to deny his happiness.
They conspired against him to keep his soul restless.
They conspired against him, but he would prevail.
He would prevail, but in his soul, he felt empty. Empty in the
worst way. Empty of his own being. Empty. Nothing. He felt like
nothing and no matter what he did, he was still nothing.
Akane was the one who made him something. The pig-tailed goddess
made him more than he had ever aspired to be, but they were gone.
They were gone and now he was nothing.
"A soul in need of replenishment; a spirit desiring a purpose.
Tendo Akane. Pig-tailed goddess. How I long for you, yet Heaven has
seen that you are to be plucked from my grasp. If that is what must
be..."
If that is what must be, then what? He could not simply accept
what had happened. It would be a crime to sit and do nothing, to let
things continue as they were. Someone, something needed to be
punished.
By rights, it should be Saotome Ranma, but he had already been
killed. Maybe, just maybe... The vengeance of Heaven was slow, but
sure.
The vengeance of Heaven would not be denied, and he would be the
one to extract it. He would be the embodiment of that vengeance and
fill his soul with its wrath.
By his hand, he would wield its lightning, he would rain
destruction down on those that deserved it, he would truly be the Blue
Thunder. And he would be feared by all.
Anything to fill his empty soul again.
He hadn't seen his sister for quite some time. Though, he
couldn't remember the last time he had left the presence of the
visages of his two loves. He couldn't remember much of anything since
he had heard the news about Akane.
As he stood, her picture staring at him, staring into him, into
his empty soul, it reached out. It tried to fill itself with her
again, it tried to make itself whole, but she was gone and his soul
would not be placated by a picture.
That was when he knew what had to be done. That was when he knew
the only way to achieve peace.
"Kodachi!" His infernal sister and her wicked ways... How he
managed to put up with her all this time, he didn't know. "Kodachi!"
he yelled at the closed door.
It opened ever so slowly, no more than an inch, and Kodachi
looked out at him. Or rather, one eye looked out at him. "And what
do you want?" Her voice was neither friendly or sisterly.
"I have news."
"Then tell me and leave. I have no use of you."
"I am leaving. I know not when I shall return. Father shall be
your responsibility. Until I return..."
The door slammed unceremoniously in his face, blowing out a
little puff of medicinal smelling air. Looking at it sourly for a
moment, he soon turned, and left behind his life as he had known it.
Kodachi stepped back from the door she had just shut in her
brother's face. The meddling snoop. Leaving indeed. Well, at least
he would be out of her hair. He was another obstacle that would try
to stop her, no doubt. She didn't need more obstacles; she needed
allies.
Turning, the look on her face changed to one of pure love and
something of lust. "Ranma-sama," she whispered.
The tank was most assuredly inadequate for the time. She would
have to look into a way to stabilize the setup, to make sure the ball
would stay firmly in her court.
That brought on a most devilish grin as she eyed the tank
filled with yellow liquid, as she eyed the figure floating in that
yellow liquid.
Saotome Ranma.
* * * [1998 - Summer] * * *
Kuno Tatewaki's trip had turned out to be most enlightening. He
had not stayed gone as long as he thought he might have because it
hadn't been necessary. He had been shown how unprepared he was by a
strange figure, a man, that had counseled him in his life's path. He
needed to return to school. Put Akane behind him, only for the time,
and return to school.
Though, if he was ever asked about the man, Kuno Tatewaki would
swear, in his more lucid moments, that the man was either a demon or
an angel. A demon or an angel and impossible to tell between the two.
He had masterfully convinced Tatewaki that, despite the
emptiness inside him, there were ways to fill it. Ways that would
reap great rewards, but schooling was a must. There were benefits a
high school and college education brought, even if those things were
unimportant to him. They would assist him at a later time. The
figure had convinced him of that. The figure had convinced him of a
great many things.
And as he had begun college, the man had disappeared. He was left
to his own devices for a time, but only for a time.
"Blue Thunder," the voice whispered to him.
It drifted on the breeze to reach his ears. He stopped
suddenly and looked around him. Amidst the green grass, bathed in
bright sunshine, the voice sounded like it was coming from a grave.
He shuddered involuntarily as he spotted the mysterious figure under
some trees across the yard.
Striding purposefully over to the trees, giving his other
classmates imperious looks, he paused in front of the hooded figure.
"You've returned."
"I have. How are your studies progressing?" the figure asked.
"Well. Indeed, I can see the ramifications of being a learned
scholar in my pursuit of..."
"Quiet. If you wish my continued assistance, then you will carry
on. You will finish your college career and be a well-respected
student. Do you hear me?"
Nodding, Tatewaki could not imagine doing anything else in school.
"Of course."
"Excellent. I shall find you after college, after graduation.
You shall be one step closer to the greatness you deserve."
Nodding again, the foreign thought of true greatness, not school
greatness, clouded his mind. "Failure is not an option," he answered
seriously.
"Either way, Blue Thunder, you're destined for better things.
Don't forget that." Gosunkugi Kyoofu #2993 left a very dazed Blue
Thunder standing under a tree.
* * *[2001 - Spring]* * *
The spring air was refreshing, welcome after the oppressive
winter months. That, and the fact that Kuno Tatewaki walked away from
the college with a diploma seemed to lift his spirits to previously
unimagined heights.
The world was good, for the most part. For the most part.
There was a part of him that didn't think about the part of him that
was missing, but it was a nagging, gnawing feeling always at the back
of his mind.
Leaving the university grounds for the last time, the mysterious
figure met him again.
"Blue Thunder, we meet again." He seemed to melt out of the
shadows, smelling faintly of fire and livestock, extending one pale
hand.
"So we do." He said nothing more, having matured without the
help of this man.
"Don't think you don't need me just because I've let you go for
three years. Remember, you are bound for greater things. Without me,
you are bound for nothing." It wasn't spoken as a threat, but as a
fact.
A fact that struck deep inside Tatewaki. "I... remember."
Smiling at the much humbled Kuno Tatewaki, it was time that
Kyoofu set his plan in motion. It could happen no other way; nothing
else would work. He said two words. "Saotome Ranma."
Saotome Ranma, and it all came crashing back down on him. A
demon. He had consorted with demons that had killed him. But his
death had broken Tendo Akane's spirit, unable to live without her
enslaver, she had killed herself. Saotome Ranma had enslaved her and
killed her.
That was unforgivable. He glared at the man before him, his gaze
smouldering in its intensity, its hate.
"Good. I see you haven't forgotten him." Kyoofu #2993
chuckled at the reaction he had received. It was just as he had
planned. Perfect. "I know how you can achieve greatness, but it will
take time while you hone your mind, body and spirit."
A simple nod.
"You wish to avenge her death. You're not strong enough to."
No, his mind hadn't been reduced to mush yet. He wasn't pliable
enough yet. It could be changed. After all, he had seen the future.
He had seen the future and the power. And all because of the fool
before him.
If it meant he had to do these things, or if it was because he
did these things, Gosunkugi Kyoofu #2993 didn't care. Self-fulfilling
prophecies didn't matter just as long as they worked in his benefit.
"Blue Thunder, I know how it can be done. I know how you can
avenge her. I know..." And he had always known.
* * *[2002 - Winter]* * *
It was strange, being a monk and all. He did nothing that related
to the things he had done in high school and college. His short time
as a monk resembled his previous life none at all.
It had been quite the humbling experience for him, to be stripped
of all that made him the Blue Thunder. Yet, he was to immerse
himself, become a monk to strengthen himself. It was what the
stranger had said, and the stranger had never been wrong before.
And there was that same thing inside him that kept Akane's
memory at bay. Some sort of self-preservation instinct that knew
burying his grief over Akane was the only way he would ever keep his
sanity worked within him.
As the weeks passed, Tatewaki fell into the daily schedule of the
monk. It was not exciting, nor was it interesting. It was peaceful.
It seemed, to him, to be the first time he had ever experienced such
peace.
And the stranger's suggestion seemed a good one. Without the
pressure, he was calm. Without his sister, he was relaxed. With the
external peace came the internal peace. That was followed by uncommon
insight and lucidity.
Kuno Tatewaki embraced his life then. As summer approached, he
knew it was something he should have done a long time ago. And while
he contemplated the order of life and nature, there was always some
part of him that would not stop reminding him of Akane.
Thankfully, that remained a muted memory, a distant memory that he
would not allow to ruin his peace. True, he hadn't quite come to
grips with the things that had happened, but he knew in time all
things would fall into their proper places.
* * *[2008 - Summer]* * *
Bad news, but it was the way of the world. As everything lived,
so it must die. He would die someday; the prospect did not frighten
him. Because of this, the news was little more than an inconvenience.
"Your father has passed away."
A simple nod.
The one that had delivered the news left silently, and he was
alone again. Death was a natural part of living. It was something he
had learned, and it was something he told himself every day.
The house had not changed. Even with his sister as the almost
sole occupant while he was gone, things were the same. He did not
like it. It was not healthy to remain static for as much time as he
thought had passed.
The grounds were neat, well-trimmed, as they should be, but
there was an eeriness to their passivity. Like it wasn't really life,
but a painting, and if he stayed there too long, he would became a
part of that painting.
He hadn't really expected the house to look different. That was
probably one thing their father would not have stood for. Inside, he
knew he could not expect the condition to be the same as the outside.
Approaching the door, Tatewaki tried to reach for the peace in his
surroundings, the tranquillity, but there was none. There was nothing
tranquil about things, nothing peaceful, nothing he wanted to be
anywhere near. This place was conducive to madness.
Calming himself, refusing to give in to the fears of his past, he
knocked on the door as a matter of common courtesy. He certainly felt
different, and who knows? If he looked as different as he felt,
Kodachi was liable to not recognize him at all.
It turned out that it was the other way around. A girl that
looked nothing at all like his sister answered the door. "I'm looking
for Kodachi," he said, slightly confused as to who this strange girl
was answering the door.
She smiled pleasantly enough at him. "What can I do for you?"
Yes, she smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. In fact, she
was looking at him rather suspiciously.
"Yes, I'd like to see my sister. Kodachi?"
Mutsuko, one of the numerous Kodachettes staying at the mansion,
looked surprised at that. "Your... sister?"
"Yes. I've come back to take care of my father's funeral
arrangements. Is Kodachi here?"
The girl seemed to sputter for a moment then nodded. "Of course!
Please, come in." She allowed him to enter the house, but wouldn't
let him go anywhere. "Please wait here while I get you an escort."
Tatewaki watched her hurry away, and waited. He was most curious
as to what had happened with his sister. Who was that girl? Why had
she gone to fetch an escort?
After only two minutes or so, a woman came walking down the hall
toward him. She was smiling, though again, it didn't reach her eyes.
When she reached him, she offered no greeting other than to say, "Good
morning."
"Good morning. Is it possible to see my sister. We have much
to discuss about our..."
"Of course. Follow me, please." She moved away quickly, walking
with purpose. She knew exactly where she was going, an indication
that she had been dwelling in the house for quite some time.
"I'm sure she'll be quite... pleased to see you," the woman said,
though it was obvious that wasn't what she thought at all.
"As I will be to see her. It has been too long."
The women glanced back at him curiously. He wasn't anything like
what Kodachi had described him as. Yet, it was not wise to question
Kodachi.
The meeting with his sister had been quite... interesting.
There was no other way to describe it. At one point in time, he would
have been furious, outraged over the state of the house, what Kodachi
was doing there, but now... He really didn't care.
Kodachi had her world and he had his, and never the twain shall
meet. Hopefully.
But their agreement had been quite simple. He had no desire to
return to the house he had grown up in. That suited Kodachi because
she was unwilling to cease her eccentric activities. The finances
were in the capable hands of a prestigious firm, yet they were under
his control.
Kodachi received an allowance every month, which she had seemed
perfectly content with. She had control of the house and the grounds,
and would retain it until she no longer wanted it.
All in all, they were both pleased with the way things had gone.
Kodachi, seeming more stable than she had in all the time he had known
her, had insisted that there was no problem and it was all fine with
her.
Besides, she hadn't exactly been idle all these years and had
her own holdings and funds to draw off of. That was what she had told
him, and that was what he had believed.
Kuno Tatewaki returned to the monastery feeling much better about
things. If there was one thing he had learned, it was that he loved
his sister and that accommodating her was something he could do
happily.
* * *[2010 - Fall]* * *
None of them had known. None of them could have known. One
person knew, but he was in no position to be revealing anything.
The wind blew lightly, stirring the leaves that covered the stone
walkway. They skittered across the stone, making the only noise in
the open courtyard of the abandoned monastery.
The group of monks looked at the modest structure, crumbling
with age, but still intimidating. They didn't speak, instead awed at
the power of the damned location. That was the worst thing; it wasn't
some giant glowing demon or a pack of ghosts, it was just an extremely
creepy old building.
Gosunkugi Hikaru was not in awe the same way the monks were.
He walked back and forth, taking pictures of the structure, the
grounds, the physical layout of the place. It seemed fairly typical
to him. An old, abandoned monastery with stories of ghosts and
demons... Hikaru wasn't a monk or psychically sensitive or even the
magician he once aspired to be, but he was sensitive enough to see
there wasn't anything there.
Frankly, he wasn't even sure why he was there. It seemed like a
giant waste of time. But, what harm could it do? They wanted him to
get evidence of the thing they were about to do, and they had
specifically called him, so it was impossible to refuse. His ego
wouldn't allow him to.
They had tried to explain, as a way of convincing him, that the
monastery had originally been built on some sort of nexus or other
(not that Hikaru was paying THAT much attention to what was being
said), and the activity of the monks had been disturbing... something.
Bloody hell had broken loose during one lunar eclipse. There had been
screams and strange lights and something that felt like an earthquake.
And now, the monastery was abandoned, avoided by everyone.
The weirdest thing was that he had seen Kuno Tatewaki among the
group of monks, and he had seemed much changed. Hikaru hadn't
attempted to greet him in any way, nor had he been approached. It was
another one of life's myriad twists and turns that they should meet
where and when they did.
Without a sound, the monks moved forward to enter the stone
building, the door having long rotted off. Hikaru followed slowly,
still taking pictures here and there of things that caught his eye.
It was only once inside that the grand... devastation could be fully
seen.
Outside, there was nothing special, but inside, it looked like a
bomb had gone off. The place was destroyed, with the walls visibly
crumbling, and the ceiling looking like it might cave in upon them at
any moment. Still, Hikaru didn't sense anything, but he was
experiencing an extremely strong urge to leave the building and never
come back.
Ego, once again, took hold of him. He would not run like a
frightened rabbit. He stood back and began taking more pictures as
the monks prepared for their exorcism. He looked up and got several
shots of the ceiling as little more than personal record.
There was no doubt that something had happened, something large
and violent had taken place in the old monastery at some time or
another. He could almost see the blood stains on the floor, still
fresh after all that time.
Hikaru closed his eyes for a moment, counting backwards from 100.
When he opened them again, at around 74, the monks were about to start
and the visions of massacred bodies had disappeared. Quickly taking
several pictures of the monks, he moved around to stand on a set of
crumbling stairs.
At the slightly elevated height, he could get good pictures of the
whole event. Event, like it was some sort of show, though he knew
they were taking this whole thing seriously. Deadly seriously. And
with the way he had to carefully control his body from shaking, he
knew he was going to take it seriously too.
Waiting silently, only the click of his camera making noise,
Hikaru wondered if things had begun. It was when the light inside
started to fade that he knew they were in more trouble than any of
them had bargained for.
None of the others made any indication that they had noticed the
development, so Hikaru didn't either, though the fact that it was
almost pitch black inside could not be ignored. Trying to get control
of his shaking hands, he counted backwards from 100 again, only
reaching 90 when the noise started.
It was a moaning, howling sound, somewhere between pain and death
and damnation. Hikaru dropped the camera then, the noise was almost
deafening to his ears. Looking around, blind in the darkness, the
sound seemed to come from everywhere.
This was not something he could handle. Moving slowly, trying not
to make any sound or trip over anything, he moved around the edge of
the gathering of monks. The pictures weren't worth it, the camera
wasn't worth it... This was something bigger than he wanted to deal
with.
Walking closer to the door, he gave a final, silent goodbye then
made the move to leave. They didn't need a visual record anyway, not
from him. His life was more important than a bunch of pictures. The
lives of his wife and son were more important than anything and he so
desperately wanted to see them again.
First it had been the sound that made him run, and now it was the
light that made him stop. The walls seemed to glow with ghostly
light, casting blue shadows around the room. Hikaru could not recall
a time when he had ever been so scared. Until the next moment.
A figure emerged from one wall, from the strange light, and the
sounds of torture grew louder. Without warning, without fanfare, the
noise stopped, and an unsettling silence descended.
Hikaru was staring at the figure, unable to tear his eyes away,
unable to run. He was entranced by the figure's air of grace and
beauty, the long, lean lines, pale skin and ruby lips curved upward in
a terrible smile. The eyes were terrible to look at, but impossible
not to, dancing with flames of hatred and damnation.
He was not sure if it spoke; he could only stare, captivated by
it, his mind somewhere far away telling him that he should be running.
The figure's mouth moved, but no sound could be heard.
Instead, the building itself seemed to echo the words.
"Interlopers. Invaders. Death." With those words, the nature of the
being was revealed to be not simply a restless ghost, but something
far more evil.
The whole sequence of events played out before Hikaru in such an
eerily mundane fashion, he often wondered during that time after if
his mind hadn't glossed over the details to protect his sanity.
Certainly, the authorities investigating the incident after had shown
him pictures that made him want to cry and vomit, and if he had
actually witnessed that...
As he watched, the figure moved among the monks, gliding silently,
a pale blue glow coming off its body. Amazingly, the monks seemed to
take no heed of the figure, the ghost, the... demon as it moved.
As it stood in front of one monk, an unseen wind making its hair
wave and clothes ruffle, it extended one hand, finger extended.
Hikaru tried to make a sound of warning, but when he opened his
mouth, no sound came out. It was just like being trapped in a
nightmare. No matter how hard he tried, he was completely helpless.
As the spectral finger reached the monk's forehead, passed through
it, the monk's eyes flew open and his face got a look of utter terror
and pain on it. And the sound, a liquidy gurgling noise, that came
from the monk's mouth terrified Hikaru. He knew that whatever was
happening to that monk, eventually it would happen to him as well.
With an almost audible creaking noise, the monk's head seemed to
bulge out, the joints of the skull splitting and erupting a spray of
blood.
It might have been then that Hikaru lost control of his bladder,
not that he really noticed at the time. He was far too busy wondering
if he would ever see the light of day again.
And then the demon moved on to the next monk, who hadn't moved an
inch. In a very surreal moment of realization, Hikaru saw that the
way the light and shadows formed around the demon's face, the overall
effect was that of... Oh so vaguely, the demon looked like Saotome
Ranma.
And then the carnage really began.
Small sparks seemed to dance in the air around them all, causing
the demon to glare angrily at the other monks. "You dare," it hissed.
"You can not." A crimson globe of fury formed in the demon's hand and
quickly shot forward to impact against one unfortunate monk's head.
It impacted and seemed to break, bathing the monk in the same
crimson glow. Still unmoving, the monk did not even cry out at his
horrible fate.
At least, Hikaru thought it was pretty horrible, the monk's body
wasting away before his very eyes until it was little more than
ashen gray skin stretched over bones, dressed in robes.
The glowing of the sparks seemed to intensify, and Hikaru could
almost feel a heat come from them. If this was the best the monks
could do, he had a sinking feeling it would not be enough.
Yet, the demon was enraged. It did not like the faerie lights,
glowing with golden heat, and it did the only thing it knew would make
them go away. Arcs of red lightning shot from his body in all
directions, striking several hapless monks. One exploded in a cloud
of blood, another was simply burnt to cinder, and yet another was
blown in half.
There were screams now, screams coming from the walls, from the
demon, from everything. The lights intensified in their glow, even
with only the few remaining monks. Ripping control away from whatever
had been holding him, Hikaru covered his ears with his hands and began
to scream as well.
The blue light around everything began to slowly fade, and the
demon became more insubstantial. One monk simply fell over, dead, no
sign of violence on him. Red mist began to form in the air as the
demon faded.
It was then that Hikaru closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut
out everything that was happening in the retched old monastery. He
couldn't see it, but he could still hear the screaming, and he could
still feel it, clinging to him, begging him to open his eyes, begging
him to bear witness.
That cold, evil crimson mist chewed at his clothing, trying to
penetrate his skin and nestle in his heart and mind... He would not
allow it. He could not allow it, could not allow himself to be
tainted. He had to return home whole, he had to return sane. He had
to return for Akari and Kyoofu. For Akari and Kyoofu.
That was what he kept telling himself, over and over. That was
what kept him sane.
And when he finally opened his eyes, finally got the courage, even
long after the screaming had stopped, the sensation of the mist was
gone, he wished he had gone insane.
This time, the blood was not a hallucination. The bodies were
not figments of his mind. They were very real. Fortunately, he was
as well, though his mind refused to believe it at the moment. It was
only when his legs gave out and he fell hard to the stone that he
realized his firmness.
It was also when he realized there was still another person alive
amidst the carnage. He... he hadn't been so lucky to escape the
demonic mist, the mind poison, the soul rot.
Eventually, after a few weeks of intensive emotional care and love
by his family, Hikaru had recovered. The incident was now a very ugly
memory, but he was healthy.
The other survivor had not been so lucky.
* * *[2011 - Spring]* * *
"Get out! You are nothing more than a madman! Never soil our
land with your presence again!"
"You DARE speak to me that way! Know that you shall find yourself
burning in the flames of the righteous for your treatment of the
Blue..."
The door was slammed rather unceremoniously in his face, shutting
him out in the cold spring rain. Snarling, Kuno Tatewaki walked away
from the place that had once been his home. His home in a more
peaceful and pleasant time, when he had known of light in the world.
The monks did not want him, would not take him back.
It had been their fault! They were the ones that had sent him
along with the others! And they shut him out, like a stray dog. They
called him a madman, accused him of soiling their land... They would
find that he was not someone to simply shove away.
They had offered him hope and life at one time, and now they
pulled it away. They were not worthy of being spiritual envoys. They
were little more than charlatans, preying on those that needed
guidance, sending them on demonic quests...
He was not the madman. They were. They with their ideals and
quests for inner peace... A peace that they now denied him.
Spiritually corrupt. Corrupt. Disciples of demons and hellspawn,
corrupting others.
They had tried to do the same to him. They had lulled him into a
sense of security, then they had sent him as sacrifice to their
masters. But he had survived, and he would rid Japan of the menace of
these foul people who consorted with demons.
Tatewaki left the grounds then. He had no business there until he
was prepared to take care of them once and for all. He went to the
only place he knew. It was the one place burned into his mind that he
could remember with any clarity.
It had been cleansed by him, and would be the start of his
mission. It would be where it all began. In the future, it would be
a shrine. A shrine to him and all the good he would do. Because he
would be the one to return the country, no, the entire world to true
enlightenment.
As he returned to the grounds of the old monastery, with no door,
the stone crumbling, the stink of blood still in the air, he couldn't
help but wonder...
The other survivor, the one that was unharmed, how had he done
it? How had someone survived the encounter unscathed, unless... Like
the others, he had something to do with it. Gosunkugi Hikaru, the
pale, sorcerous person he had known in high school... still delved
into the black arts, no doubt. Maybe it had been him that had done
it.
Maybe something else, maybe the whole world was just a festering
pit of corruption...
It was definitely time to clean it up.
* * *[2011 - Summer]* * *
It hadn't been hard, really. There were lots of people willing to
listen, willing to follow. They just needed to hear the right
message, they needed the right motivation, and then they would do
almost anything.
Tatewaki wasn't sure why they had started following him, wasn't
sure quite how they had found out what he was planning on doing, but
they had, and they considered themselves his followers.
Never did he see their imbalance, how they were drawn to him as
moths to a flame, overwhelmed by his personality. But that did not
matter. It only mattered that they took his word as law, did
everything he asked of them, saw him as nearly a god.
And maybe, he saw himself kind of as a god. Or at least, a minor
deity.
But that was the thing. The people, the ones that he actively
recruited on his quest, were the one that looked for something more.
They were the ones that needed something in their lives, something
more than a dreary existence. He was not a heavenly beacon, but he
was a place they could focus their attention.
Either way, it made no difference to Kuno Tatewaki. All that
mattered was that he brought more people under his wing. The more
people he had, the easier it was to rid first the city, then the
country, then the world of demons and their kind.
And indeed, things started slowly, simply, without fanfare.
There was nothing to be done about that. Such a delicate operation
had to be built carefully from the ground up to avoid internal
corruption. He couldn't afford to have any of his supporters turn
against him.
So he worked slowly, and slowly, his group began to cleanse the
city.
Shizamu led his customer to the darkened alley. It was the area
he usually used for quickies like this; it was secluded and all the
others knew it was his spot, so he had relative privacy there as well.
"What'll it be?" he asked in his false girlie voice, sounding more
like he had just been kicked in the crotch than a real woman. And
this night, he was anxious to finish. The high heels were killing his
feet and the stockings itched like a son of a bitch. He had picked
the wrong outfit.
"Usual, baby," the man answered huskily. Every Wednesday,
Saturday and Sunday, and odd Mondays he showed up, wanting Shizamu's
services. And he always got the same thing.
"You know how much; 2500 yen." And Shizamu was smart enough to
always collect first, even with a regular.
"I know, I know." The man's voice was hushed, yet anxious as he
pulled some bills from his pocket and gave them to Shizamu.
Tucking them into his tight shirt, into the padded bra filled with
tissue, Shizamu got to his knees and began undoing the man's pants.
He never heard the group of oddly dressed people come into the
alley. He never knew they were there until the sharp pain at the base
of his neck and he fell unconscious.
The two of them awoke later, side by side, in some old, drafty
structure. They were tied down, or rather up, to large posts. In
front of them, there was a considerable sized group of people dressed
like monks. Surely they couldn't actually be monks, or else why...
"Foul sorcerer and he who consorts with demons," one of the
figures said, his face obscured by darkness, "we know of your sinful
activities, and now it is time that ye shall pay. So sayeth the Blue
Thunder."
"Hey! Get me the hell down from here!" yelled Shizamu. This was
the one thing he had always feared, though it had been a distant
concern. No longer. "I don't know who the hell you think you are,
but you can't do this!"
Several of the figures chuckled at that.
"Look, I barely know this guy," the other man said. "I got no
business with any of you."
"Yeah, I got no beef with you people, so why don't you just let us
go," Shizamu said, his voice fearful.
"Quiet, sorcerer. Your words mean nothing to us. Prepare to be
cleansed from this earth, once and for all!"
"Sorcerer? What are you talking about? I'm not any kind of
sorcerer!" Shizamu proclaimed, getting very worried, panicking even.
He squirmed futilely against his bonds, the rope chafing his wrists
and ankles.
"Thy forked tongue will not save you this time." The figure
turned to face the others, who were all kneeling. "He is the first.
The first of many. Look upon his wicked countenance as he changes
forms like a true hellspawn!"
Shizamu could see a person walk up to him, carrying some sort of
large bucket, and immediately he knew what was about to happen.
"LEMME GO!" he screamed, yanking on the ropes as hard as he could, but
it was no use. "Don't do that! Don't!"
The bucket of cold water was splashed in his face, and his whole
body changed.
There was complete silence, except for the sounds of his former
customer pulling against his bonds. No one screamed or gasped, or
even laughed like Shizamu expected them to. There was silence.
Struggling against the clothes she was trapped in Shizamu tried to
break free and escape, but there was too much for her to get tangled
up in.
"Cease thy struggling, sorcerer. The truth has been exposed for
all to see. And soon ye shall return to the flames from whence ye was
born."
Shizamu was grabbed by rough hands and removed from the clothes
that clung to the rough-hewn post. Each wing was grabbed painfully,
and pulled away from her body, then she was held up for all to see.
"A beast he has become. Is this not proof of his sorcery?"
There were agreeable murmurs, and Shizamu knew her time was up.
"Then we shall proceed."
Hot water was dumped over Shizamu, allowing him to return to his
original form and gender, but he was still held down by powerful
hands.
"Hey... What the... What the hell was that?" the man asked, his
voice frantic. "What'd you do to him?"
"We did nothing that the sorcerer has not done unto himself. We
shall only bring him to justice. So sayeth the Blue Thunder."
"Look, let me go. I don't know what the hell that was, but I
haven't got anything to do with him! You gotta believe me! It's all
a mistake!"
"Oh, and so the unclean acts you were about to engage in were
simple errors?" Kuno, still shrouded in shadow, asked.
"Yeah! Now just let me go. I don't know this freak at all."
"And yet, would not thy lies slide easily off thy tongue if thy
life were at stake?"
"I don't..."
"Lies!" Kuno roared at the man. "The pit!"
"The pit!" the others yelled in response.
Whether he felt relief or utter fear for it, the man was being cut
down from the post. None of the crazies made any move to harm, only
restraining him. He was led over to a large trapdoor set in the
floor, and he knew he didn't want to find out what was behind it.
One figure opened the trapdoor, revealing only darkness. "Throw
him in. Cleanse the earth," the figure hissed, the voice
serpent-like.
"Cleanse the earth," another figure said, the voice female.
"Yes. It begins. Remove this foul being from my sight," Kuno
commanded.
Before the man could protest more, he was shoved forward into the
dark hole, screaming the entire way.
The trapdoor was allowed to slam shut, cutting off any more noise
from below.
"And now you," Kuno said, turning his attention back to Shizamu.
"Thy crimes of the blackest sorcery and villainy will truly be
punished in the severest manner."
It took all of Shizamu's self-control not to cry. "It's not my
fault... It was China..."
"China? Hold thy tongue. We shall not be swayed by lies..."
"Jusenkyo," Shizamu stuttered. "That's where it happened. That's
how I got this way. It's a curse! I'm not a sorcerer!" he yelled,
his voice getting hoarse with hopelessness. It was getting harder to
hold back the tears.
"China. Jusenkyo..." There was something familiar about that
word. "It matters not!" Kuno said, snapping back to reality. "We
have observed thy evil deeds, thy devious shape-changing ways
involving water. Yes, we have seen it all, and it has been determined
that thy life is forfeit.
"Thy demonic form as a bat proves thy tainted blood. Thy ability
to bewitch and enslave, even men, proves thy sorcerous powers. Now
face thy fate, face death, black sorcerer." Kuno held out his hand,
and there was an object placed in it. His fingers closed around it
slowly.
"Thy time has come," he said quietly, and raised his arm. The
blade he held reflected some light long enough for Shizamu to start
screaming.
* * *[2012 - Winter]* * *
Strangely, no one cared or noticed all the mysterious
disappearances, the spontaneous fires, the violence. To Kuno
Tatewaki, it had nothing to do with luck. It had everything to do
with destiny.
It was an obvious sign that the people appreciated the things he
was doing. They were tired of the filth, the corruption, the
spiritual suicide, just like he was. They were supporting him
silently with their inaction, and that one little delusion was all he
needed.
It wasn't the power that he wanted. He didn't care how many
people followed him; they were only means to an end. It was all about
the cause, the cleansing of the planet. It was the cause that brought
them together, and it was the cause that would see them through.
They were all means to an end. They all strove for the greater
glory. And with him leading them all, that glory would be achieved.
He would live to see a new world vision. His new world vision. And
nothing would stop him, no matter what it took.
The pit in the old monastery became a very popular place. It
smelled a little funny, but no one was in the monastery any longer to
complain. The pit would stay a very popular place for quite a while.
* * *[2014 - Summer]* * *
Night in the city is still dark, no matter how many lights there
are. The shadows seem to gather in the proper places, to wait for any
unsuspecting victims to enter.
One such victim had stepped out of the light and into the shadows
by accident.
The wiry man grabbed the woman from behind and slammed her against
the wall of a building. Immediately, a knife was being pressed to her
throat, and the man was warning her of keeping silent.
The woman, while panicking slightly (it couldn't be avoided), kept
her eyes on her attacker; she would identify him later, and then he
would be in big trouble. As the knife bit into her skin, she had to
briefly wonder if she would even be able to report the crime.
"Whatever you want, just... just don't kill me," she begged,
refusing to cry in front of the piece of street trash.
The man looked around quickly, his eyes darting to and fro, the
sweat shining on his forehead. "Yeah, whatever I want, bitch. I
know," he hissed at her. He applied more pressure on the knife so
that it drew blood from the soft skin of her neck.
The woman whimpered as she felt the blood ooze from the cut.
"Villain." The voice came from the darkness, sounding almost like
it was the darkness itself. "Base and foul... Face your punishment
not from behind the skirts of a woman."
The man, a petty crook by trade, turned and looked to where he
thought the voice was coming from. "Who's there? Don't get any
closer!" he warned, waving his knife.
"And now he threatens the servants of God. To what depths has the
city sunk? That we worked so hard to cleanse. Our work is
incomplete; we must double our efforts."
There were answering murmurs from the shadows.
"I don't know who the hell you are, but I'll stick ya if you don't
leave me alone!" The man was frightened. He might have been a
criminal, but he was not crazy. Not crazy like whoever was in the
shadows.
"Feel our retribution!" came the voice again. The shadows seemed
to swell, and four figures clad in black robes swarmed him with their
own weapons.
He never had a chance really, as he was summarily thrashed and
left to bleed to death on the ground.
The woman, looking from the unconscious criminal to the people in
the black robes, smiled tentatively. "Thank you," she said.
"'Twas our duty. There should not be fear of such villainy.
There should not be the corruption that causes such villainy," a
different figure spoke.
The woman nodded slowly. When it wasn't safe to walk down the
streets of the city, even in a good area, that was when things were
out of control. "You're right. I don't know how to thank you
enough."
One figure bowed, then they disappeared back into the darkness.
At the end of the summer, crime was at an all time low, and the
cases of vigilantism had skyrocketed. There was a new name on
people's lips, associated with the reform of the city, the country.
That name was of the seemingly mild-mannered reformist named Kuno
Tatewaki.
* * *[2015 - Spring]* * *
He shouldn't have been nervous, but he was. He was the Blue
Thunder. The Blue Thunder was above being nervous. Sort of. The
crowd of people before him was quite large, larger than his group of
followers. And they were all waiting for him to speak.
They wanted to hear what he had to say because they knew he was
right. They knew he was the one that could save them from the evil in
the world.
Giving himself new confidence, glancing arrogantly at the group of
curious photographers and reporters, then looked back at the waiting
crowd. He began to speak.
He captivated them. He spoke his most sincere beliefs from his
heart, with passion and vigour, and they believed him. The notoriety
he was gaining meant he had to... put up a front, but it was a small
price to pay when he could see the world changing around him. Very
soon now, Kuno Tatewaki knew, it would all be his to control, it would
all be under his influence.
As spring approached summer, the weather warming more, it became
more difficult for the Blue Thunder to participate in the nightly
hunts with his followers. It seemed that his presence was always
required by some news agency or camera crew. He had to constantly
prepare for such things, which meant he couldn't concentrate on the
most important thing.
"Kuno-sensei!" A small boy ran up to him, causing the several
bodyguards around him to stiffen.
Tatewaki held them back and smiled at the boy. "And what is it
you wish of me?" he asked.
The boy stood before him, breathless from running. "My Mommy says
you saved her! She says you saved the city! Now we don't have to
move away and leave all my friends behind!" The boy thrust out his
hand where he was holding a severely damaged daisy.
Tatewaki took the flower gently from the boy. "Thy words shall be
remembered. Know that thy family has a place amongst the holy."
The boy smiled happily and stared for a moment. Then he ran off,
giggling, to tell his mother what had happened.
The face of the country had definitely changed.
* * *[2015 - Summer]* * *
"The world, you say."
"Yes, Kuno-sensei. Europe, South America, Africa, the United
States, everywhere. It is a great day for your following," the young
man said, dressed in a more casual outfit of dark suit pants, white
shirt and conservative tie.
"Indeed. I had not anticipated this much growth in so short a
period of time," Tatewaki said thoughtfully. He was dressed in his
more traditional monk robes in preparation for speaking to yet another
gathering.
"The twenty-first century has been unkind; many people are
searching for the type of spiritual guidance you give them. They
follow your example, they follow Japan's example. In fact, Japan's
become the center of interest around the world. Just last week, a
group from the United North African Nations and combined Greek and
Roman Independent Powers arrived."
Tatewaki nodded. He had heard that, and that he was requested to
meet them, but previous engagements had prevented him from doing so.
He knew that it was a simple political ploy from the UNAN anyway and
had no desire to get mixed in with their problems.
He would have liked to speak with the GRIP representatives because
he had read of their difficulty with the Vatican in the previous
months. Possibly a private meeting without the publicity involved.
Everything he did seemed to involve publicity anymore.
It was enough to drive a humble monk insane.
* * *[2016 - Fall]* * *
The travel was an inconvenience. He was requested to speak all
over the world at all times, and he often ended up saying the same
things over and over again. Life as a well-renowned reformist, public
speaker, monk, and active neo-religio-political figure was beginning
to take its toll on him.
It seemed that he was forced to accommodate everyone, while he had
nothing for himself. This could not continue; it could not be
expected of him. It could not be expected of anyone.
All he wanted, now that it seemed the world had come very close to
cleansing itself, was to concentrate on those last bastions of
corruption and demon spawning. Though he never admitted that out
loud. It would have been far too radical for the gentle populace.
Luckily, he still had those in his confidence who knew of what
everything had started with. He knew what it would end with too.
"I request a report," he said briskly.
Immediately, there were three people ready to take down his orders
and complete them. "Yes, Kuno-sensei?"
"I wish to know more about a most... corrupted place known only as
Jusenkyo." He looked out the window idly as he spoke, knowing the
information he desired would be presented to him in a suitably hasty
manner.
"Jusenkyo. Kuno-sensei, in which region is this located, if you
know?"
"Jusenkyo in the wilds of the Chinese Republic," he answered, a
definite tone of disgust in his voice.
"Chung Kuo, Kuno-sensei. They no longer wish to be..."
"Silence! I wish to know everything about Jusenkyo so that I
might smite it from the face of the planet!"
That sent the three away in a hurry, and Kuno Tatewaki was left
alone with his deliberations.
His quest for the destruction of Jusenkyo was never completed.
The exact location was never discovered, the Chung Kuo government not
cooperating at all in the quest.
For six years, the quest for Jusenkyo, and its nightmarish ability
to spawn demons, continued, along with Kuno Tatewaki's fame and
influence throughout the world.
* * *[2022 - Summer]* * *
"I'd like to volunteer."
"Volunteer? We don't have much call for volunteers. What kind of
skills do you have?"
The young Gosunkugi Kyoofu lifted an eyebrow at the question.
"Skills? I want to speak to Kuno Tatewaki."
The man laughed in Kyoofu's face at that. "You? You're a KID!
He wouldn't have anything to talk to you about! Little boy, go home
and go to school now. We have important things to worry about."
The man continued to laugh and turned away from Kyoofu.
Kyoofu tsked, then walked past the man and to the elevator. The
doors opened automatically for him, and he stepped inside, pushing the
button for the uppermost floor.
The elevator door opened once again, revealing an open room
currently devoid of people. Kyoofu strode forward to the large set of
double doors, put a hand on each handle, turned and pushed open the
doors, effectively making a grand entrance into Kuno Tatewaki's
private rooms.
Everyone currently there stopped to look at the brash young man
that had just barged in. They all got looks of outrage on their faces
except for one.
"And to what do we owe this visit?" Tatewaki asked calmly.
The calm in his voice relaxed the others, but not completely.
"I've seen you," Kyoofu said confidently, though he was still a
touch nervous. "I know you. I know you can do bigger things than
waste your time as some temple icon. You've changed the world, so why
don't you rule it?" Kyoofu mentally berated himself. He sounded like
a bad salesman.
"The young man desires my counsel. Leave us," Tatewaki said
simply.
The others all glared at Kyoofu as they walked past him and out
the doors.
With the doors shut, Kyoofu managed to relax some. It was obvious
that Kuno Tatewaki was a reasonable man, no matter how demented he
might have been. He just had to appeal to that reason to get what he
wanted.
"Kuno-sensei, your popularity is unparalleled. Whatever you
desire is yours to take. You've changed the world almost on your own.
Your influence is boundless. It would be so easy for you... to..."
Kyoofu ground to a halt when he saw the small smile on Tatewaki's
face.
"An interesting idea, indeed. What is thy name, young man?"
"Gosunkugi. Gosunkugi Kyoofu," he answered.
Tatewaki's face darkened at the mention of the name. Though this
one seemed to have none of the sorcerous leanings that his relatives
did. "Gosunkugi Kyoofu, expound."
Kyoofu felt a shiver of excitement run through him. It was
working.
* * *[2022 - Winter]* * *
As soon as the name of Kuno Tatewaki was made known to be in the
political race, nothing could stop him. It was more than a landslide.
The ease with which he had won... It hadn't mattered that he had
decided, with the help of his group of advisors, especially one
Gosunkugi Kyoofu, to try for political office only four months ago.
He was too popular, too beloved to be denied.
And then he was too powerful to be denied.
While he was powerful, his advisors were powerful. And his most
trusted, most intelligent, most resourceful advisor shared quite
healthily in that power. More so than he should have.
* * *[2023 - Spring]* * *
"Kuno-sensei, you must prepare for your speaking engagement.
Don't trouble yourself with that; I'll take care of it." Kyoofu moved
the stack of papers away from Tatewaki and tried to get him to stand.
"You can't let these little things get in the way of the larger
picture. The welfare of the people's spirit... that's your concern."
Tatewaki stood up slowly, looking at the papers Gosunkugi had
taken away. He was getting a strange feeling about this young man.
One he didn't like.
And the next week.
"Kuno-sensei, that's already been taken care of for you. It's not
your concern. You've got a press conference to worry about; you need
to get ready."
And the next.
"Kuno-sensei, I'll do it. It's too much of a burden for you.
It's more important that you work on your speech to the UN
conglomeration."
And for the next month.
"Kuno-sensei, just relax. You have nothing to worry about.
Just... go about your regular business. Leave the Foundation to me.
You don't need to worry about the little stuff while you've got the
big rally coming up."
Then there came a point where Gosunkugi Kyoofu WAS the Foundation.
He did everything. He ran everything. And Kuno Tatewaki was little
more than a popular figurehead with some extreme eccentricities.
What exactly went on in the Kuno Foundation was no longer his
concern, as Gosunkugi reminded him so often. He had even overheard
Gosunkugi mentioning something about Kodachi on the secured phone. He
had been whispering so it was hard to tell, but Gosunkugi hadn't
looked very happy at all.
Then Gosunkugi had turned and saw him standing there, and the
little man had had the nerve to yell at him! Imagine, the man Kuno
Tatewaki had brought to power, no matter how accidentally, was yelling
at him after he had been talking about Kodachi.
But did it really matter? He had his own life, things to worry
about, when Gosunkugi allowed him, and Kodachi had hers, and maybe he
should just mind his own business. Besides, he had plenty of stuff to
do.
Didn't he? It seemed that lately, it had gotten hard to think
straight. He couldn't concentrate on much of anything, and had to
rely on writers to prepare speeches for him.
It had gotten so bad, he couldn't remember what speeches he was
giving, or what ones he had given the week before. Yet, he
rationalized that it was simple stress and fatigue, and that it was a
good thing Kyoofu was handling things.
Wasn't it?
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