Hi!
And a Happy Thanksgiving to all of my fellow Canadians! ^_~
Yes, I know that I originally planned to release this last weekend. Blame my
professors, with all their blasted essays and assignments and the like. SIX
IN THREE DAYS! I'm lucky I'm still alive. :b
However, I am alive, and what's more, I've got yet another chapter ready for
your reading enjoyment. First, however...
(Ahem) Please send any and all C&C you can on this. Even just saying "hi"
would really be swell. I even try to write back, when my oft-failing Inbox
lets me. I've made it quite easy to do: my address is in the "Cc:" line, the
"From:" line, the title of my story, and if all else fails, you can just
click the "Reply" button. I really would apprecate it.
Of course, anybody new to the story should really check out my webpage, at
http://dataraven_659.tripod.com/roninsummer.html
and at http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Underworld/4709/roninsummer1.html
and check out a few of the earlier arcs in the series.
Earlier chapters of Dark Crusade are available at Joy Lyn's awesome
webpage, at http://www.geocities.com/animecrossovers/
And, with all that out of the way, here we go! ^_^
_______________________________________________________
Say Bye to Slow Internet!
http://www.home.com/xinbox/signup.html
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
OBLIGATORY LEGAL DISCLAIMER : Some of these guys aren't mine. The
Sailor Senshi belong to DIC and Kodansha, while the Yoroiden are owned
by Sunrise and Graz Entertainment. Okay? So don't bother suing me. I'm
a student.
RONIN SUMMER VI : DARK CRUSADE
A Sailor Moon / Yoroiden Samurai Troopers cross-over
by Morgan Hudson (dataraven_659@excite.com)
Chapter Eleven : Safekeeping
With a cruel scowl on his face, a winged man soared through the
heavens. His massive ebony wings stretched wide, stiff and unyielding
as he looped and drifted on the wind currents, his emerald eyes
scanning the terrain below him. Miles of river blurred past, sparkling
magically in the cold and silvery light of the huge full moon rising
behind his lean body, casting a huge winged shadow onto the thick
tree canopy as he angled towards the forest and continued his search.
On a whim, he dipped one feathered appendage and twirled like a leaf
in a fierce breeze, spinning and twisting as he spiralled down closer
to the trees and skimmed his fingers through the thick foliage like a
child playing in the water. His name was Vyne, and although a new
arrival, he was the undisputed master of the skies. His problems,
legion that they were, were for the moment at least very far away from
him. He would find his prey, and destroy them quickly, the better to
return his focus to his true enemy: Pedri.
"HEY!"
With a confused look on his face, Vyne rolled over onto his
back and scanned the sky above and around him. That voice had almost
sounded like...
"VYNE! OVER HERE! I'M SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU TO- ah, screw it,
he's not listening. I'm going home."
Vyne grinned. Yes, he thought, that was the distinctive cry of
his sister Holts, all right. Catching himself in mid-air, the bishounen
man slowly rotated in a full circle as he examined the foliage for-
There! A small blur of red, ducking back down under the thick ceiling
of tree branches and leaves.
"Sister Holts!" In response to Vyne's call, a youthful woman
stuck her head back up out of the tree canopy, staring in his direction
with a calculated look of boredom. His littlest sister looked as
though she was either just out of bed, or heading there. Both were
likely true: her laziness was matched only by her lethargy. Several
twigs were stuck in her short mane of crimson hair, and she could
barely keep her four catlike eyes open. As he watched, she stifled a
yawn with the back of one hand and scratched the top of her head with
one of the four jointed spines that protruded from her back.
"What?"
"What would you have with me, Sister?" Vyne spread his hands
wide and lifted his eyebrows. "You seemed pretty eager to get my
attention a moment ago."
"Oh, THAT? Holts blinked. "That was a moment ago. I don't care
about that now. I'm going back to bed, assuming I can find it..."
Vyne sighed and placed one hand over his eyes. "Tell you what,"
he said calmly, "if you give me that message I'll... I'll... Personally
escort you back to your room."
Holts looked sleepily suspicious. "I could get back faster
by myself, you know."
"True, but that would require effort, and we both know you hate
that more than crumbs in your mattress."
The petite redhead raised one eyebrow. "Will you carry me on
your back?"
Vyne nodded. "Of course."
"Will you tuck me in?"
Vyne gritted his teeth. "Yes," he agreed.
"And tell me a bedtime story?"
"Okay..."
"And sing me a bedtime song? And kiss me good-night?"
"YES! FINE! I'LL DO IT, ALL RIGHT? GIVE ME THE MESSAGE!" Vyne
trembled in rage, clutching his hair as several ebony feathers shook
loose from his massive wingspan. Holts giggled merrily and leapt out
of the tree she had been sitting in, grabbing her brother by his ankle
and causing him to wobble dangerously as she climbed him like a ladder.
Wrapping her arms around the slim man's neck, the redhead buried her
face in the back of his neck.
"Pedri wants to remind you," she said with a small yawn, "that
whatever you do, don't kill the Empress or the Masho of Deception. He
wants them brought to him alive, or he'll be really mad."
Vyne looked a bit worried. "Uh... Which one is the Masho of
Deception, again?"
"He has purple armour, and a patch over his left eye." Holts
smacked her lips and began to wriggle around, nuzzling the side of
Vyne's neck as she tried to find a comfortable position. Vyne, already
badly overbalanced, began to find his flight much more unstable than
he preferred.
The black-haired man began to sweat as he remembered the two
people that had gone over that cliff earlier. Hadn't one of them been
wearing an eyepatch? "Does this Masho of Deception have long sliver
hair, too?"
His only answer was a light snore, as Holts finally got herself
comfortable and promptly returned to her favourite state: slumber.
"Sorry, sis," Vyne muttered, "but I think we may need to make
a little detour..." Veering off, he began heading back the way he had
come as quickly as he could. Maybe if he was lucky, one of those two
had survived the fall. He doubted Pedri would believe him if he argued
that the Masho had leapt over the cliff all on his own, and it wasn't
Vyne's fault that he had fallen.
One of the most important lessons Vyne had learned in his long
life was that treachery required no mistakes. His fellow siblings were
each growing more and more agitated with Pedri's rule, but someone
needed to keep adding fuel to the fire, or the pot would never boil.
If he had, however inadvertently, just openly defied Pedri, he was as
good as dead. He could not afford the delay of returning, not when the
time was so ripe.
Vyne began flapping his wings even harder, doubling his speed,
and prayed with all his might that the Masho of Deception was unhurt.
**********
Floorboards creaked softly under the man's feet as he padded
along the narrow hall. His long red hair stirred as he walked, swelling
behind him like a crimson cape. Pausing for a moment, he nudged the
screen open with one toe, careful not to unbalance his cargo as he
slipped into the room.
As rooms go, it wasn't much. In its own defence, however, it
was a whole LOT of not much, so large that any sound loud enough would
likely echo. The floor was covered in tatami mats, and the entire north
wall was lined with giant windows. Gossamer curtains of rich purple
silk billowed in the breeze, sweeping into the room and writhing as
though with a life of their own. The walls were bare, bleached white
rice paper screens with black bamboo frames.
The man made a slightly sour face as he examined the cavernous
bedroom. It was regularly and rigorously cleaned, just like every
other section of his home. Despite that, it seemed a bit too barren for
his tastes. The only real furniture it had was a futon and a small
table with short legs, crouching low to the ground. Folding his own,
much longer, legs under him, the stern young man sat next to the bed
and set his tray on the table next to him.
The white futon was covered with violet sheets, and held a
young girl. Her features were delicate, almost fragile, and her big
dark eyes were shut, soft raven hair spilling around her face as she
turned her head and shifted her position slightly. The sheets covering
her slipped down, revealing her bare shoulder. Her skin was pale,
seeming almost the colour of chalk when contrasted against the dark
purple sheets. She shivered, and the man gently slid the covers back
up around her neck, tucking her in and waiting patiently by the
bedside.
He didn't have long to wait, as Hotaru's eyes slowly fluttered
open. She sat up slowly, the sheets falling around her waist as she
lifted her knees to her chest and hugged her arms around them, looking
around in thinly veiled alarm. The question on her mind was rather
obvious.
"You're in my house," he explained with a small smile. "In
case you've forgotten, you were hurled over a cliff and landed on that
pretty little head of yours." Lifting the teapot from his tray in both
hands, the red-haired and aristocratic young man poured an adjacent
cup full of the steaming liquid.
Hotaru nudged one of the straps of her simple white night-gown
back into place and looked at her host with a small amount of fear in
her eyes. "Who are you?"
Shutendoji looked confused for a moment. "That," he said
carefully, "is a question for which there are many answers. I am a
teacher, and I am also a student. A guide, and a fellow traveller on
the road. A warrior, and a man of peace. I have battled the greatest
evils known to mankind, and I have served them with equal fervour. I
am also," he added as he lifted one of the teacups he had filled, "a
host who will sit and talk in riddles until his tea gets cold, if
little girls like you let him. Here."
Hotaru blinked and accepted the hot cup of tea, cradling it in
her hands and letting the heat seep into her palms. Watching the
handsome and refined man sip quietly from his own cup, she joined him.
The tea was stronger than she was used to, but still quite good. She
smiled to herself as she felt the hot fluid spreading through her
body, and returned to examining her host. Much like the last time she
had seen him, her first impression was of how much he reminded her of
Setsuna. Something about the way he held himself, his back ramrod
straight and his chin proudly held high. There was an almost princely
grace in every move he made, and his eyes were as hard and sharp as
his other features. Even the smile playing in the corners of his mouth
was more cool than warm. Like Setsuna, he seemed to be reserved,
keeping his emotions hidden deep within him. Everything about him
seemed hard and unforgiving, yet he had been almost frighteningly
gentle with her.
"So," he asked softly, watching her as she watched him, "what
be your verdict, Sailor Saturn? Do I pass whatever standard I am being
compared to in your mind?"
With a blush, the frail young girl tried not to stammer
incoherently. Here she was, a guest in this man's home, and she had
been blatantly staring at him like he was a side of beef she was
considering buying. Setsuna would spank her on the spot if she ever
found out Hotaru had been so rude and ungrateful a guest. "Sorry,"
she managed to whisper. "I didn't mean to-"
"No matter," he said, cutting her off with a swift motion of
the one hand not holding his cup. "I am more than used to such stares,
young lady. Your mother invented those stares. They never bothered me
when she used them, and I assure you that I have nothing to hide.
Nothing, at least, that I think you could find quite so easily."
"Did you go to school with Michiru-mama?"
Shuten paused with the edge of his cup resting against his
lips. "No," he said calmly, "I've never heard of anybody called by that
name. And I never went to school. We didn't have them." He sipped.
"Nice try, though," he admitted, nodding his head.
Hotaru knitted her brow and looked down at her hands. "But you
said you were an old friend of my mama, the last time you showed up,
and if you don't know Michiru-mama, then who do you mean? Are you a
friend of Haruka-papa?"
"No." Shutendoji said sharply, as he took another sip of his
tea. "I've never met either of those two. I don't plan to meet them any
time in the future, either. People in general bore me, with one or
two notable exceptions." Lowering his cup, he smirked at the young girl
as she drank her tea in confusion. "Finish your drink," he said, "and
let's see what the leaves have to say to you."
Hotaru dutifully swallowed the last few drops of tea clinging
to her cup and stared into the bottom of the porcelain container.
His long mane of crimson hair sweeping over one shoulder, Shutendoji
leaned forward and looked into the cup as well. Lifting his own, he
swiftly dumped his leaves in with Hotaru's and took the cup from her,
clamping his hand over its mouth and swirling it in his hands. After
several seconds, a strange light seeped from between his fingers and
a soft clanking sound filled the room. Removing his hand, Shuten
reached into the cup and drew out a small jewelled pin.
"Oh," Hotaru breathed as the man placed it in her cupped
hands, "it's so beautiful!" A thin wreath of intertwining gold wires
embraced a large black opal, with swirling tints of purple and red
as she turned it in the light. Merged with the opal until the two
seemed to be a single piece was an ivory cameo of a demonic skull
wearing a samurai helmet.
"It's yours," Shutendoji said as he rose to his feet. A fairly
tall man, he towered over the still sitting Hotaru. "Wear it somewhere
that all can see, and it may be of use to you."
Hotaru looked up from the pin, which had drawn her attention
like a magnet. Her eyes were wide, and filled with strange mixture of
curiosity and terror. "I'm not in the Dark Kingdom anymore, am I?" Her
voice quavered when she spoke, but only slightly. Shuten, who had
trained himself to find the fear in others, was impressed by her
control. This, he reminded himself, was HIS daughter. It was only
fitting she be such a fine specimen.
"No," he admitted. "You are somewhere very far away from that
place. And somewhere very close, at the same time."
"Am I dead, then?"
Shutendoji reached out and slowly lowered the girl's eyelids
with his fingertips. Leaning in close, he pressed his lips against the
top of her head. "Why don't you open your eyes," he whispered softly
into her ear, "and find out?"
**********
Hotaru opened her eyes, and immediately began to cough. Rolling
over, the frail young girl clutched the rock she was resting against
and vomited up what felt like gallons of water. It was quite some time
before she stopped. Her arms trembled, her chest heaved, her throat was
raw, and she was seeing small sparks of light radiating through her
vision, but she was definitely alive. With quivering fingers, Hotaru
brushed back the thick veil of soaked raven hair that clung to her head
like a helmet, hanging in her eyes. After managing to slick back her
bangs, Hotaru lifted her lower half out of the freezing cold river she
had been floating in for who knew how long. Her skin was covered in
goosebumps, and her sailor fuku was ruined, plastered to her body and
restricting her movements. A slight breeze came up, and she felt it
straight through to her bones.
Her head was pounding, and Hotaru felt a slightly sticky patch
on her damp and chilled face. Touching the spot, she pulled her fingers
away and noted that her hand was coated in red. Leaning over, she
looked at her reflection in the surface of the river. She looked like
a drowned mouse, quivering and shaking and somehow looking even smaller
than usual. Her skirt was torn, her left sleeve was missing, her tiara
was on crooked, and the entire right side of her face was coated in a
mask of red blood.
And resting between her breasts, holding together the dark
crimson bow on her chest, was an opal pin with an ivory cameo of a
snarling demonic skull.
"I'm alive," she whispered with a slight smile, and watched
her reflection smile back at her. Unbidden, her smile grew, and soon
she had to press her fingers against her mouth to suppress a happy
giggle. "I'm alive!"
"I promise," a deep and pained voice hissed, "as soon as I
remove this boulder from my spleen, I will try to pretend that I care."
Hotaru snapped her gaze away from her reflection, staring in
the direction of the voice she had heard. Several feet away, on the
opposite side of the wide and raging river, a man dressed in glossy
purple and emerald armour was draped over a rather large and jagged
stone. As she watched, he slowly creaked into a sitting position,
pulling off his horned purple helmet with its silver face grille and
letting it drop from his gloved fingers. Behind the fearsome visage,
his face was as handsome as if carved from stone, and with about as
much warmth. Long, gleaming silver tresses fell around his pale face
and tumbled down past his shoulders, and his single blue eye was as
cold and beautiful as a crystal. His left eye was covered by a black
eyepatch, and there was a thin trickle of blood leaking from the corner
of his mouth. Chuckling softly, the Spider Masho lifted one arm and
wiped his mouth clean on the back of his violet gauntlet.
"So," he said, with almost clinical precision, "it would seem
you have survived, young Miss Tomoe." His thin lips twitched upwards
in an approximation of a smile. "Excellent. I've put far too much work
into this puzzle just to lose one of the more interesting pieces." The
armoured man slid off of the giant rock and landed on his feet. With a
gasp, he grasped his right thigh and bit back a cry of pain. Blood
flowed freely down his leg, crimson against the dark purple of his
armour.
"Are you all right?" Hotaru asked, raising her voice to be
heard over the roar of the water. He wasn't standing very steadily, she
noticed, and seemed to be clutching his side.
"I'll be fine soon enough," he responded, and took to the air,
clearing the river in a single leap, landing heavily next to the girl.
He stumbled slightly on landing, and fell against her, sending both
crashing to the ground. "Maybe not right away," he allowed, "but I'll
survive. I always do."
"Do you need help?" Hotaru raised her hands, which were glowing
dimly. "I could use my powers, and-"
"If you do," the man warned, "I'll personally break off each of
your fingers." Lurching back to his feet, he began to stagger into the
bushes. "I handle my own pain, child. Save your mercy for those weak
enough to expect it."
"Wait a minute!" Regaining her own footing, Hotaru began
walking after the armoured figure. "Where are you going?"
"At the moment? Away. Eventually, I hope to rejoin Anubis and
my Empress. Setsuna and your fellow Senshi should be there also." The
Masho of Deception looked back over his shoulder at the girl, who
stood silently and stared at him in confusion. "Well?" he asked
irritably.
"Setsuna told me about you," Hotaru said quietly. "She said
you're more evil than Satan."
The Spider Masho smiled. "Aww," he cooed, "how sweet! She
remembers. Now, are you coming, or did you have something else planned
for the rest of the day? The sun will be up soon, you know, and if
you're not under some kind of cover by then, our enemies will surely
find you."
Hotaru began to shift her weight from one foot to the other.
"I don't know... I don't think I should..."
"Fine. Farewell, Sailor Saturn; I am not your keeper." With a
wave of his hand, Rajura turned away and continued walking into the
bush. Hotaru stood and watched him leave, biting her lower lip and
rubbing her shoulder as she looked first down the stream, then back at
his receding form, then back downstream, and finally breaking out into
a run as she chased after him. Setsuna may have warned her, but so far
Rajura hadn't actually done anything to hurt her, and if there was one
thing Hotaru's life had taught her, it was that anything was better
than being alone.
Walking along in the forest, Rajura vaguely noticed the small
form of Sailor Saturn tagging along in his peripheral vision. "Took
you long enough," he snorted, and continued on in silence.
**********
Vyne drifted down the cliff and landed, his talons digging into
the mud and gravel of the riverbank with a loud scrunch as he folded
his wings behind him like a thick, feathered cape. Gripping Holts by
the wrists, he gently pried her hands away from his throat and took a
shaky breath. Asleep, the girl was like a dead weight pulling on his
back, yet she remained far lighter than he had expected her to be.
"I could have sworn this was where I left them," he murmured
to himself, turning and trying to reorient himself. "Where the hell
could two corpses get to in such a hurry?" Yes, he told himself, that
was definitely the rock that he had seen the one-eyed Masho sprawled
on, and right over there was the river where that dark-haired girl had
washed up after she fell. Surely they had been killed: they must have
fallen over two hundred feet!
Holts yawned loudly in his ear and smacked her lips as her
lower pair of eyes blearily opened. "What's going on, here? Home,
Rover! You said you'd tuck me in and everything!"
"Just a second, Sister Holts. I need to find a few bodies that
went and moved on me." Scratching his head, Vyne placed his other hand
on his hip and tried to do the mental calculations. First, he thought,
they were here, and then I turned my back for a few minutes, and now
they're both gone. Cripes, I know I wanted them alive, but did they
have to be quite so lively about it?
"Why don't you just follow the red drips, then?" Holts asked,
and pointed. Vyne followed her lead and noticed a small spatter of
blood on the rocks of the opposite bank. The red splashes of fluid
trailed off into the bushes, and Vyne smiled.
"You know," he said, "I'm glad I brought you, sis."
Holts glared at her brother as she leaned over his shoulder,
her feet brushing against his calves. "Yeah? Well, remember that when
you're fixing me my bedtime snack, then."
**********
The rising sun shone on his deep emerald green undergear armour
as Rajura waded through the water as it rushed around his waist. Using
a small length of thread tugged from his shredded jacket, he had pulled
his long silver mane behind him in a short ponytail that kept the
soaked hair from sticking to his face as it had been doing. The black
patch that covered his left eye was soaked, and he could feel the
vacant socket hidden behind begin to ache. Resting one hand on his
hip, the Spider Masho reached up and wiped the moisture from his face,
rubbing his temples with thumb and forefinger. He could feel another
migraine coming on.
And speaking of migraines, he thought with a bitter chuckle
as Sailor Saturn came struggling out of the underbrush, the fates have
once again thrust a little girl under my less-than-tender wing. Without
looking, he knelt down in the water and let the river tug at his body
as he rummaged through the silt.
"Still alive, are you?" he asked with polite curiosity. "I'm
impressed, Miss Tomoe. I didn't take you for an outdoors type."
Hotaru simply glared at the man and staggered into the river.
Still shivering, the bedraggled young Senshi looked as though she
had been dragged backwards through a mud pit and then hurled into the
nearest briar patch. Conveniently enough, that was more or less what
had happened to her, although Rajura had done nothing to cause either
incident. True, he hadn't helped either, but he wasn't the girl's
baby-sitter. He had made sure to walk slowly enough for her to catch up
each time, and he felt that was more than considerate of him.
"This is where we were last night," the Masho said grimly,
looking up and scanning the riverbank with his one icy blue eye. "This
is where we got separated from everybody."
With a befuddled look on her face, Hotaru glanced up and down
the river, searching for whatever clue had tipped the man off. "How can
you tell?"
Rajura pointed at the far bank, where a few broken branches
hung by their bark to the trees they had sprouted from. "That's where
we exited. We were so busy running, we weren't careful: broke those
branches. A good tracker could follow that." Swivelling, he allowed his
finger to point at the opposite bank. "The rocks there are disturbed,
and there's scratch marks in the mud where everyone must have climbed
out. You can still make out most of a footprint, and I'm sure only
you Senshi are dumb enough to wear high heels in the forest."
Standing, he turned to Sailor Saturn with a cruel smile and held out
the object he had dug from the muddy bottom - a long and familiar
glaive with a G-shaped blade. "Plus," he added, "you dropped this."
Hotaru caught the weapon as Rajura tossed it in her direction.
Using the back of her gloved hand, the young girl began wiping the mud
and grasses from her Silence Glaive. "So, can you follow them?"
"With Anubis trying to cover his trail?" Rajura snorted
derisively. "I wouldn't trust a Sherpa to follow Anubis through a snow
covered field if he was drunk and had both legs tied together. And
that's on a normal day. With enemies after him, and three women to
look after, he'll be downright paranoid, now. Anubis of the Masho is
a ghost, Miss Tomoe, and he isn't turning back into flesh until he
chooses to." The silver-haired Masho of Deception paused significantly
and scratched under his chin. "No, nobody can follow Anubis. But I can
find him."
"Really? How?"
"Simple. We have one advantage over our enemies: I know how
Anubis thinks." Rajura slowly creaked his way out of the cold water
and onto the muddy bank, kneeling and squeezing his eye shut as his
breathing became ragged. Hanging his head low, he coughed once and
cleared his throat. "Anubis is sore, tired, and hunted. If he were
alone, he'd pick a nice open area, put his back against something
hard, and go down swinging, but it's not just him. He's got Kayura
and the Outer Senshi with him, and in his mind, he has to look after
them. So... He's going home."
"Home?" Hotaru stared at the Spider Masho. "You mean, back to
the castle? But that's a horrible idea! Pedri and his troops are all
over that place!"
Rajura groaned and shook his head. "I didn't SAY he was going
back to the castle," he explained, "I said he was going HOME. We've
been in that castle for less than a week, and he wasn't even there
for most of that time. He's headed back to the Keep, whether he knows
it or not."
"The what?"
"The Keep." Rajura looked at the small girl as though those two
words were the only description she could possibly need. "My word, Miss
Tomoe, hasn't your mother told you anything about us?"
Hotaru shook her head. "No, not really. She doesn't like
talking about any of you very much."
"Ah. Regardless, the Keep is where we came from, and it's
where we go to whenever we don't know where we're headed."
Sailor Saturn gave a disgusted sigh and sat on the riverbank.
"You mean, we're going to find Setsuna and everybody by going somewhere
you don't know how to find?"
"In essence," Rajura allowed, "yes. All I should have to do is
walk without thinking about my destination, and my armour will
carry me back to where it thinks I belong. A vestigial part of Arago's
spells, I'd suppose. If any one of us were to somehow try to escape
his grasp, we would inevitably get lost, and be drawn back to the Keep,
and his clutches. Happened to me a few dozen times, as I recall.
Shutendoji a number of times, as well. I remember how often he'd
disappear, only to be dragged back in a few days later. Our best time
free was nearly a month, and that was Anubis. He ran until he couldn't
see the Keep anymore, then hid before he could get lost and stumble
back." Taking a deep breath, Rajura forced himself to his feet and
staggered on.
Despite herself, Hotaru rose and continued following the tall
and slender man. He had been growing steadily weaker as they travelled,
stumbling more and more often. Despite his denial of any help, it was
becoming obvious to the girl that he was indeed very badly injured,
and doing his best to conceal it. Concerned, she followed after him.
If she couldn't make him listen to her and be healed, then maybe
Anubis or Kayura could talk sense into him.
"How can I help?"
"Distract me. I have to be thinking about something other than
what I'm doing, or this could take forever." Falling to his hands and
knees, the Spider Masho hung his head low, shoulders shaking as a
violent coughing fit overcame him. A spray of blood fell from his lips
and onto the rocks beneath him. "And I may not have forever," he
admitted with a slight smile. "I don't seem to be recovering as well
as I should. I'm probably still exhausted from everything I've been
doing lately."
"Maybe you should rest," Hotaru suggested.
"I'll go into a healing trance when we get to the Keep. Just
distract me, already! It's one of the few things you've shown any
talent for thus far."
Ignoring his barb, Hotaru shouldered her Silence Glaive and
continued walking next to the man in the purple armour. "Okay. You
knew Setsuna, right? So what was she like, back then?"
That gave the Masho of Deception pause. "She was..." He stopped
and looked into the distance, a strange, almost soft look coming over
his features as he gazed back through time to the child he had known.
After a slight moment, his face hardened once again and he cleared his
throat. "She was younger," he said finally. "When I first met Setsuna
Meioh, she was much, much... younger." A peal of thunder rang out,
catching both of the pair off guard.
"Come on," Rajura said, "we'd better get moving before it
starts to rain."
**********
Several hours later, Rajura growled and tried to pull his foot
free of the mire that had captured it. With a loud sucking noise, he
managed to pop the extremity loose and thrust it down again, straining
to free his other foot from the lagoon of mud that had once been a
forest floor. Rivulets of water ran down the curves and grooves of his
armour, pouring off of his fingertips and soaking his hair as it
dripped down the length of his nose and dribbled from his chin. Looking
over his shoulder, he saw Sailor Saturn. She was coated in mud, and
shivering violently. Idly, the Masho of Deception realised that the
two of them had more or less spent the entire day wet for one reason
or another.
"We're stopping," he called over the constant background noise
of falling rain. It was a harsh, pounding rain, as though whatever
sky gods the Dark Kingdom worshipped were choosing that moment to
empty out their wash buckets on top of the two, and Rajura was sick
of it. Muttering foul words under his breath, the usually unflappable
Masho slogged out into the open, finding himself suddenly on a field
of black slime. In drier times, he knew, it would be a fine, ash-like
sand. "On second thought," he cried out to the girl, as thunder boomed
somewhere nearby, "we'll take refuge in there."
Hotaru slicked her hair out of her eyes for what felt like the
ten millionth time and skidded over to where Rajura stood, shielding
her eyes with one hand as she peered in the direction he was pointing.
There, standing in the middle of a vast, empty plain of black sludge,
a single tower of obsidian jutted up like a stake plunged into the
heart of the world.
Rajura grasped the small girl by her wrist and began racing
towards the Keep, slipping and sliding in the mud several times before
he finally reached the front gates. "Come on!" he yelled to Hotaru,
as he grabbed the steel door handle and tugged with all his might,
"Pull!"
Hotaru clutched Rajura by the waist and dug the heels of her
boots into the muck, helping brace the man as he hauled on the door
until it slowly creaked open. The Spider Masho gestured with his head,
and Hotaru slipped through the portal ahead of him. Ducking around the
heavy oaken door, Rajura let it slam shut behind him with a shocking
finality. The sound echoed through the empty hallway, richocheting
off of bare stone and circling curiosly around the room before settling
onto the floor in disgust.
Rajura groaned and clenched his fists, a purple glow seeping
from between his fingers and sheathing his undergear, dissolving the
drenched metal plates and replacing them with a pair of black pants
and a black shirt, over which he wore a grey quilted jacket. "Change,"
he said to Hotaru, who was staring at him once again, "your normal
clothes should still be dry." Pulling off his jacket, he handed it to
her. "Use this on your hair. Don't want you catching your death of
cold, do we?"
Hotaru closed her eyes, her body becoming enveloped in a nimbus
of sparkling violet energy as her sailor fuku changed into the far
drier school uniform she had been wearing before. Accepting the offered
jacket, she threw it over her head, rubbing and fluffing her soft
raven hair dry. "Thank you," she said. "I mean, for the jacket, and
for earlier. Thank you for saving me."
"I didn't do it for you, child." Rajura grinned as he undid the
cord constraining his hair and let the silver mane hand freely down his
back. "I did it for Setsuna Meioh. You're her child, the one thing she
values more than anything else in this world. And I saved you." He
chuckled cruelly as he rubbed his hands together. "It's been far too
long since I've owned her," he said with a satisfied tone. "I plan to
enjoy it as much as possible."
"That's really too bad," Hotaru said quietly. "I feel sorry for
you."
"Huh?" the Spider Masho looked at her in confusion. "What are
you talking about, child?"
"Well, it's just that you can't even save somebody's life
without needing to find an ulterior motive. You can't even let yourself
feel good when you're being heroic. You must hate yourself very much."
"I don't think you should talk any more," Rajura suggested,
and placed his hands on his hips. "You're speaking gibberish."
"I don't think you're as bad as you want people to think you
are, Rajura." Hotaru smiled as she finsihed drying her hair and offered
him his jacket back. "I think you're actually really nice."
"Wrong," Rajura shot back, taking his jacket and using it on
his own hair. "You see, there's one important fact you're overlooking,
Miss Tomoe. I don't like you. I barely tolerate you. If I didn't need
you, I'd throw you over a cliff myself. Still might, actually."
"If you meant that," Hotaru replied, folding her arms across
her chest, "you wouldn't warn me in advance. Nobody can really be as
cold and uncaring as you act. It's not possible!"
"Anything is possible, Miss Tomoe. We'll call that lesson
number one." Rajura scowled as he began walking deeper into the Keep,
his footsteps echoing eerily on the stone floor. "Get some sleep,"
he called over his shoulder, "but don't stray too far from the doors.
There are a lot of dangerous things in here."
"Like what?" Hotaru asked.
Never one to deny a moment its proper drama, Rajura glared over
his shoulder and gave the yung girl the most malicious smile he could.
"Like me," he hissed, and faded from sight. His voice, however,
remained a moment longer. "But for now," it said, floating from every
corner of the hall, "I still have use for you. Rest secure, Miss Tomoe.
Mommy is on her way, and I will not allow whatever ghosts still haunt
this place to harm anything I still have an interest in."
Hotaru smiled to herself as she gathered up the jacket Rajura
had dropped and folded it into a makeshift pillow. "Explain it however
you want," she whispered, "but you're still pretty nice."
If the Masho of Deception heard the girl, he said nothing to
correct her.
**********
To Be Continued...