魔性の子

It was almost as if she had forgotten that she had company. 

“Suppose? You mean, you don’t feel creeped out by how empty it is out here? I mean, if this is really the realm of the dead—”

Koizumi took a pause. Many people died everyday. That much was obvious. Her friend from Hope’s Peak…his sister…not to mention the additional lives his family had taken to save their reputation and stay feared by many. Koizumi was sure her murderer had been executed as well. If so many people died…where in the world were they?

“Heroic…type…?”

Oh, damn. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts, she barely heard him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m still a little…shocked that this is happening. By heroic, I mean that you don’t seem the type to fight off anything that would come out and attack. Save the damsel in distress and all?”

…

His gaze fell to his feet--he couldn't look her in the eye while saying that. But it was better this way. As long as he didn't involve himself too deeply with others; as long as he kept isolating himself--people wouldn't get hurt.

He'd loosened up a bit during his time here. No one had gotten hurt because of him, no one had died. But he couldn't easily forget the destruction that had followed him like a plague, and old habits die hard. He knew that they were still there, and that was all the reason he needed to be cautious.

He cracked a thin smile and laughed again, but this time it almost felt forced. She was right, though. Seeing people in distress left him with an almost physical hurt, though he was fundamentally useless at giving any help. The sight of blood and violence terrified him, and more often than not he was the cause of someone's pain to begin with.

it was dark, everything was dark.  what had happened?

a voice rang out in her head as she forced her eyes open: “you are dead.”

it wasn’t a voice she was used to either, not the voice of Kuchinawa, nor the voice of any humans she knew of.  she couldn’t place her finger on it.

that wasn’t important though.  who would do something like this to Nadeko? why would they do this to Nadeko?  she just couldn’t figure it out, but there had to be a reason right?

maybe someone around here would know what was going on.  the problem was finding someone.  this place was pretty barren.

she pulled the visor on her hat down, not wanting to be in a position where someone surprised her out of nowhere.  it would be better to keep her head down and not become a “target”

after a good 10 minutes wandering around she finally saw someone else.

"um"

"um" she muttered shyly, "do you-"

She gestured to the small plastic cups filled with the sizzling hot substance, but the smell made him cringe. He didn't like it, but he'd eat it, though--if he had to. He tried to decline, but the woman jabbed a bony finger in his back. Nonono, take some! It's free, and yer skinny as a rail anyhow!

She eventually talked him down and he resigned, taking a cup just to escape her clutches. After that he ran--ran until no more people were in sight. It bothered him to be around them. He could sense it, they weren't...right. Even all the unusual people that had appeared felt more normal than they did.

Takasato stopped, finally catching his breath. He was shocked to hear a voice behind him and raised his gaze.

He cocked his head to the side. With circumstances as strange as they were, it didn't seem to be a good idea to assume anything about what she meant. Regardless, he had a feeling he wouldn't know the answer anyway.

This was no afterlife, and she was getting out.

As Tali stapled the last leaf of paper to the wooden post, she let out a deep sigh. For the last several weeks, the quarian had been experimenting; testing the limits of this fogbound town. She had tried everything she knew: from the most scientific experiments involving the generation of various types of barriers to her more recent endeavor of angrily throwing rocks at the town limits. It was only after this that she had come to the grim realization that she was incapable of accomplishing any further studies on her own, so she had begun a campaign to recruit allies. She had decided to accomplish this by plastering posters with her intentions around the town, hoping to garner the attention of anyone else desperate to leave the valley.

The main problem, however, was that Tali had almost no idea how to write any human language. Which is probably why said posters ended up saying this:

WANT: UNHAPPY DEAD NEED: SKILL WITH TECH PATH: GET OUT FOG TOWN TALK TALI’ZORAH VAS NORMANDY (SUIT ALIEN. ACCENT)

Urgency nipped at the back of his mind. He had to get back--not to where he was before, but to there. Even though he was dead, he felt alive in all senses of the word. He ate, he slept, and he breathed. He knew he was dead, but something inside him told him that his presence should have been completely devoured if he were dead. So maybe--maybe--he could get back.

A sheet of paper fluttered down and sunk into the water, though he didn't give it the slightest bit of attention until he realized there was something written on it. It made him a bit curious. He looked up, realizing it had been affixed to a post before it fell off.

He stretched out his hand over the railing, grabbing the soaked parchment from the puddle it rested in. He made a futile attempt to smooth and dry it out on the wood. After letting it sit for a few seconds, he found he could read nearly all the writing--though to his dismay, it didn't make an ounce of sense.

His eyes wandered, searching for the person that had taped the note up there. Perhaps they had put it up only a while ago, and were still around. He wasn't sure why he wanted to know, but he was interested. Gaze sweeping the area, he walked down several streets. He was already aware that this part of the town was generally dead--it was why he came here so often.

So he watched unflinchingly

The immediate threat had been neutralized, but the sudden attack this boy was experiencing didn’t let him relax completely. Was he insane? Probably not. Was it some memory, perhaps, triggered by the whole event? Possible. Whatever it was, it would be a stretch to say that he wanted anything to do with it. Leaving the kid behind, though, seemed a bit too cruel for the moment.  

He was no healer, and he doubted that any sort of hocus pocus could help the boy at this point anyway. Perhaps he was no good at giving any sort of comfort, but he could at least try in his own sort of way. After all, there was no wrong in helping someone simply out of pity. He had said something along those lines once, didn’t he?

He crouched, bringing himself closer to the ground, and reached a hand out to place on the boy’s shoulder. Flat, there was neither any concern in his voice nor expression when he spoke.

Stop it, it's not true!

He rammed his head against his knees and cupped his hands over his ears. Aches ricocheted through the imaginary protrusion in his forehead; every strike against it was like a wound to his own body.

STOP IT!

The shrieks that echoed through his mind finally caused something to snap--forcing him to shut down like some mediocre electronic appliance. It had been too much, he couldn't take all of it in his current state. So he had to reboot.

An icy numbness filled his chest. All of his pain and grief had spilled out, leaving him completely hollow. He felt nothing. He remembered nothing. He thought of nothing. He was empty.

Salty tears still ran down his cheeks, flowing with no end in sight. Sure enough, he remembered he was dead--but every memory he'd experienced from there was gone again. He lifted a hand and rubbed slowly at his eyes, looking up as the man placed a palm on his shoulder. It was heavy and much warmer than he'd expected, but it didn't bother him--it was almost reassuring. He opened his mouth to speak, not sure if the small voice he had could even escape his lips.

"Ta...Takasato. It's...Takasato."

Besides, he held no intention to harm it or its master.

While he wanted to worry about the boy, the immediacy of the next few moments took all of his attention. The beast’s form caught him in something between awe and surprise. Demon would be a more accurate term, he supposed, but that word held connotations that he wished to avoid. After all, why add negative meaning to something that was a benefit?

The shadows were in one place, and his next action was clear.

“Watch yourself." The words held a cold, inhuman edge to them, projected through the area with a deep rumble.

The spell he had charged previously would not be enough. He found himself quickly muttering a different incantation. Still too weak. The grip on his sword burned and he focused on that to draw something darker out. A black mist rose from his feet, accompanied with an eerie red glow. His eyes reflected the light, flashing not unlike that of a cat’s. It felt good to draw upon this. The rush of energy blotted out any doubts or concerns, and his bolganone spell reached its peak potential.

A circle of light appeared, encompassing the entire crowd of shadows. In the next second, there was a pillar of fire. Each monster burned away with an earsplitting screech, and any residue they would have left behind smouldered mid-air. The snapped trees and surrounding grass began to burn as well, and the sudden rush of hot air went in every which direction, rustling leaves and clothing alike.

Robin took a few shaky steps backwards, and ran a sleeve over his sweat-slicked forehead. The glow left his eyes and his aura dissipated. A heavy exhalation interrupted his previously controlled breathing. He wouldn’t be able to react to anything more, damn it all. As he watched the flames eat away at the park, smoke billowing upwards and concealing the surrounding rooftops, a light chuckle escaped his lips. The shadows were dead, he was sure—unless he had lost his sixth sense—for he couldn’t feel their presences anymore.

Another few steps and his boots met the pavement. That was when he let himself drop his sword, the metal ringing as it clattered to the ground. He turned to face the road and his eyes went to the boy and his guardian. Another demon? His teeth met his bottom lip; where the shadows lacked presence, the boy still had one, though it was considerably weaker than it had been before.

Still, what he'd learned didn't go away--he was dead.

Salt stung at his eyes and his whole body shook. Yet he felt almost surprisingly apathetic towards his own death. He'd often thought about killing himself, though he was such a coward that he never could. The image of his own blood and death horrified him. But in the end. the world was better off without him.

So, why wouldn't the tears stop?

The color drained from his skin as the voices of his classmates rang in his head. What the fuck are you, Takasato? What the fuck are you?

He didn't know why those words had come to mind now. He turned to the man, looking for answers to questions he couldn't ask. What had happened? Was he dead too? Why did it hurt so much?

With the night set ablaze, he noticed something about the man he hadn't been able to in the dark--his eyes were red. He stared into them, finally remembering something that would be better off buried in the depths of his mind.

ǵ̶̕͏ ̴̨̡͟͏ỳ̨͡ ͏҉̷́ư̷̢͝͡ ҉̶o҉̴͠͠u̡̕ ̡̡s͏͡ ̵́͞o͏̵̶͢ù̶͟͡ is dead.

The memory of the name was fleeting, but what he remembered was all too clear. He was dead--the one with the eyes like blood and the silver hair and the aura like flame that burned terror and warmth into his heart. He was dead.

He retched violently, arms clenched around his stomach as he curled into a ball. The liquid continued to pool in his eyes, but his sobs were frighteningly silent. His lips couldn't even make a sound.

He didn't know who it was who had told him this or who the man was, only that he was so very important and precious to him--that he'd sworn an oath and he'd failed. It was his fault, he was dead and it was all his fault.

Aches racketed through him, though not from the exhaustion he'd felt before. A sharp pain jutted at the center of his forehead--one of the few sensations he truly hated. His shoulders convulsed and he vomited onto the side of the street, the taste of iron strong on his tongue.

"At least you don’t seem completely inept at describing their appearances. And if you call the woman ‘Murgen’, what to you call the dog-like beast? Surely you have a nickname for him." At least, the beast looked like a male. Creatures that come in pairs like that are typically male/female pair.

His voice faltered, small frame shaking like a leaf in the wind. How long had they been by his side? Since the lost year, at least. But before that? He couldn't say for sure. It had been a very long time--so many years. They had been the source of his comfort when all else had abandoned him.

He shook his head. He didn't have a particular name for him--he only knew it as the griffin. It almost felt like it would be wrong to give it a name other than its true name. That he'd known it, spoken it, earned it--it could never be named anything else. A proud name--no, maybe it was just written with a character that meant proud?

It was probably the first time she smiled since arriving here. At least she could make someone feel better about their current situation. Helping people gave her a bit of meaning, and she’d grab at whatever opportunity allowed her to do so. Her face soon turned solemn again. People like her and him…she just felt like they didn’t belong here. She wondered how many more kind people she would meet that had met their own ends. It was unfair. Unjust.

It actually just sucked.

"Ah, no—it’s just that I disappeared for a long time when I was little. When I came back, I couldn’t remember anything about it at all…"

What? Had he been abducted? Suffered a head trauma? Speaking of head trauma, the throbbing pain on the back on head didn’t falter. It was still pretty prominent, enough to make the photography moderately faint. She wanted to ask so many questions, but it was like he said. He couldn’t remember.

“It’s nice to meet you, Takasato.”

Family names first, no exceptions. Until she got to know him a bit more, that is.

He nearly hesitated to say it, but the name rolled off his tongue with a smile. It was pleasant to be so casual and friendly with someone for once. The thought of getting used to it terrified him, though. Whenever he got close to someone; whenever he let his guard down, things went horribly sour for him. The consequences of it were irreparable, and he didn't want to see any more people hurt because of him.

"Ah...I suppose you're right about that."

Truth be told, it hadn't even crossed his mind once. He didn't prefer one situation over the other, out in the open was just as good as anywhere to him. He didn't feel any particular urgency yet about figuring out what was going on, either--neither this place nor the place he'd been swept away from were home to him.

If the place did make her uncomfortable, however, it was definitely best to move on then.

He cocked his head to the side, faint traces of confusion visible on his face as he thought over the last bit of her comment. It wasn't a term he'd heard used before--he couldn't help asking.

"Heroic...type...?"

His arm dropped, tip of the sword scuffing the ground, hand clutching the handle but painfully tingling. Useless. Looking back up, he noticed the boy’s beast returning to the field.

Not enough time to think, again. He wanted to throw his blade to the ground, but a vague idea forming in his head told him that that would be a waste of coin. His arm didn’t hold enough strength to sheathe it, wouldn’t for several moments.

Quick on his feet, or as quick as he could be, he took a few steps back to avoid another monster headed his way. Light began to form in his hand as he charged another spell, and that vague idea took a more solid form. “We need to round them up.” He hoped the beast could understand him, “Get them all in one place.” How, though?

Still, it mulled the thought over--it certainly wasn't a bad idea, after all. Its head rippled into plain sight in front of the man, yellow eyes searching the other's for any trace of deceit. It opened its rancid mouth to release garbled speech.

[You...swear...bzz...bzzt...assist...?]

Its head jerked back before he could wait for his answer, sensing the shadow racing across the road.

Takasato didn't even have a moment to react before the shadow was on top of him, claws wrenched around his neck. He fought back, hands flailing and scratching at the blackened mass to no avail. His skin burned like ice as it touched the thing, the cold beginning to make him go numb.

His body threatened to crack under the pressure, lungs screaming out for the tiniest bubble of air. His vision blurred into strange colors as its grip squeezed tighter around him. It went from pink to green to complete darkness, then his limbs fell limp as glaring white came into view.

A horrible realization had finally struck him--he was dead.

Whitened arms appeared from the void behind him, slashing the shadow to shreds with claws of her own to keep the boy from further harm. She pulled herself around him into a hug, shrill voice ringing out to convey something to the other beast.

"Well, of course I can, sweetheart. Why, can’t you?" They were attached to him, so why couldn’t he see them? What kind of partnership between the three of them was this?

Although, she did notice him pet the beast-like one staring straight ahead as she approached him… It did seem as if he were afraid of looking at it. Or perhaps that he wouldn’t see it when he did look down at the creature. It wasn’t all that frightening, however. It was much like her own beast, Gomorrah, albeit a bit more dog-like and not completely made of her own hair. It was cute in a way.

Then there was the chimera next to him, holding his hand. She looked a bit creepy, but it wasn’t something Bayonetta couldn’t handle. The angels were much uglier. Judging by the way she looked at the witch, she seemed to worry for the boy, as if the tall woman were going to attack him at any moment. But there was no reason to; he was harmless! However, if he were harmless, why would there be two of these creatures in such close proximity to him?

She sat down next to him, on the side of the dog-like beast, not too close nor too far. Just enough room for them both to move around and get comfortable, but also enough space for the beast to chew her ribboned hair off.

He folded his arms across one another, hugging his body tight. It felt like he should--that it would have been the norm to be with them and talk with them like anyone else. But it had been like this for as long as he remembered. He couldn't even picture their faces--he'd tried to paint them once before, and the results had been incredibly vague.

She sat down beside him, but even still, she towered over him. He couldn't tell whether or not that was the reason for the unease he felt.

"One of them's...a bit like a dog, but sometimes it flies. I call it the griffin. The other one's a woman, I think. Whenever I sense her I can smell the sea, so I call her Murgen."

His eyes wandered down to his shoes, searching for the animal that he couldn't see. Of course, his gaze only met with the white stone he sat on.

His last remark caught her attention. He was used to not remembering? What, was he as forgetful as her father? Tch. She had the urge to bite back. Memory was important and essential. He couldn’t go forgetting everything!!

Perhaps it had to do with the fact he'd never really talked to anyone like her before. He had a tendency to isolate himself and went to an all-boys school to begin with. His classmates, teachers, and family were all he knew--he couldn't even recall if he'd talked to any girls around his age in the last few years.

To be honest, he probably hadn't spoken to any women other than his mother in a long time, he realized. He wasn't even sure if most of that counted--he knew that she no longer viewed him as her child.

"Ah, no--it's just that I disappeared for a long time when I was little. When I came back, I couldn't remember anything about it at all..."

His voice faded to a stop. All too late, it occurred to him that a statement like that was most definitely a strange thing to say.

"...Sorry. I'm Takasato Kaname."

It was a shame that Bayonetta had no way of feeding her Infernal Demons back down in Inferno. Well, it’s not like there were angels here to feed them to anyway. And it’s not as if they would take whatever poor sap they wanted here; the people here didn’t seem to appear remotely tempting to send down. She also couldn’t summon Madama Butterfly. Hanging her tall beehive over the back of the seat, the Umbran Witch sighed. Now what were she to do?

The witch, previously sitting on a bench along the side of the road, rose to her feet and stretched. It was quite boring around here, save for the shadows that jumped out at her on occasion. They weren’t a problem for her, however. Rolling a lollipop with her tongue in her mouth, she walked around, looking for another thing to do.

It was probably well known that she had attracted the attention of many onlookers, as she was unusually tall, and her walk consisted of her heavily swinging her hips left and right as her feet landed directly in front of her with each step she took. The woman’s hair was also unnaturally tall, and came out at the ends of her sleeves. Who’s hair does that? Apparently Bayonetta’s does.

As she walked, she looked around, hoping to find something interesting, until she stopped at the short, few steps of the library. Removing the candy from her mouth, she smiled, noticing a boy with two creatures at each his sides. Without hesitation, the witch approached the boy, towering over him with her height. Of course, her sudden approach might be seen as a threat, as her strides were long and quick. And when she stood in front of him, she had no choice but to look down on him. Such is the curse of having a model body.

He looked at the sky--an unrelenting grey, thick with foreboding clouds. The color had never varied much since he'd arrived. The most change he could hope for would be a shade of coal or an icy white. Even the night sky lacked any hints of blue or purple.

It was a long while before he stopped gazing upward, the patches of sunlight almost blinding to his eyes. He could feel a warm spot wrapped tight around his foot--almost like a dog, but bigger. It rubbed its face against his leg and licked at the hem of his pants. He smiled and scratched behind its ears, but didn't look down. He knew it wouldn't be there if he did--or if it was, he wouldn't see it anyway.

Instead, he opted to keep staring forward--but was greeted by a strange sight. While he was considered average height by Japanese standards, he knew he was quite short by international ones. Still, this woman was frighteningly tall, hovering over the heads of all the people around her. Her manner of dress was equally bizarre.

Almost like clockwork, she turned and strutted down the street in his direction. A small pang of fear formed in the pit of his stomach, and he found the comforting sensation of a hand gripping his tightly in response.

His eyes darted around in confusion. Surely she couldn't be talking to him? He was alone, after all. For a while it didn't make any sense to him, but then it clicked.

"You...You can see them?"

Running through an incantation through his head, a hot, white light formed in his left hand. Inhale. The tight grip on his sword left his right hand white-knuckled. Step back, balance, aim. Exhale. His palm opened, releasing a bolt of lightning with a sharp crack and dry taste in the air.

The shadow closest to him let out an otherworldly hiss as it disintegrated, leaving an oily residue on the grass below it.

Several others were soon going to take its place.

Two things had become apparent to him: the first was that the beast held more presence, and was a benefit. The second was that the shadows couldn’t be handled one by one. They needed to be wiped out all at once somehow, or this little group would soon be overwhelmed.

His red-eyed gaze went to the boy on the ground. Was he sick? Half of his mind favoured abandoning him, sparing the stresses of trying to get everyone out in one piece, but the other carried enough stubbornness to hold him back on that. After all, Robin wouldn’t do that, not then, and this was his chance, so why waste that? 

Glove still warm from the previous spell, he grabbed the boy’s arm and roughly pulled upwards.

"I need you run to the street. Can you can do that?"

He winced as the man yanked on his arm, but stood up regardless. Ache and exhaustion pulsed through every muscle in his body, though he couldn't understand why. He hadn't exerted himself in any way recently that would explain such a complete loss of energy.

Blinking away dark spots in his vision, he nodded slowly. He understood--he was a burden here. He glanced quickly in the direction of the road. It was a good distance off, but he thought he could make it.

His lungs burned as he ran. The shadows blinked in and out of view behind him, like static on a bad television picture. Flames licked at the back of his throat, it felt as if his heart would thrash its way upward. Finally, his shoes skidded against the asphalt and he tumbled into the street. Well, at least he'd made it.

The beast's footsteps padded lightly behind him. It nuzzled his face and hovered over him for a few moments before speaking.

[Sa...nsh...bzzt...ill...bzzt...protect...yo...bzzt.]

As predicted, the heavens opened and down came a shower more likened to an onslaught of water than any light shower. Eren failed to move, caught within a trance-like state within which he failed to feel the beat of the rain as it lashed at his skin, icy drips stabbing his bare skin as it hammered down, echoing about the docks as it beat upon the wood.

What was he to do? He was dead. Somewhere his friends were fighting a war without him. How they were doing so he did not know, nor did he want to. No, of course he did. He longed to see their faces, to hear their voices. Not that he wished their deaths, but he at least dreamt of seeing them, of embracing them for a final time before crying out an apology and bidding them farewell as opposed to dying a coward. A failure. He’d left them with nothing. Not a damn thing. He beat a fist upon the wood upon his left side, cracking the weakened beam with a simple swing which saw splinters crack and fragments tumble into the raging waters below.

        ”Damn it.” 

The rain soaked his face, hair collecting masses of water and dripping down the length of his neck and back. The entirety of the grubby uniform he had been wearing upon the day of his demise was soaked through and through, as was his skin. Chilled to the bone he sat, yet burning with anger he felt. He had failed to notice the figure approaching him, curious as to what a young man would be doing allowing the chill to reach his skin, the rain to freeze him should it continue.

He drew his arms against his shoulders to fight against the chill. He'd experienced a cold far worse than this before. While his mind didn't remember it, his body did.

It was a sort of double edged cold that he remembered. Certainly, it must have been a dazzling sight to behold, with swirling white flakes amongst a blinding silver-pearl sunlight. But it was something to be admired from afar, never to be in. The cold was so painful. Within seconds, a thin layer of frost would cover your eyelashes and ice webbed between your fingers. The warmest of winter coats would feel like rags worn thin against your skin. Beautiful, but deadly.

He couldn't place where he'd been through such a thing. The coldest memory he could trudge up was of when his grandmother had forced him to stand out in the snow as punishment. He hadn't done anything wrong, but she wouldn't let him come back in until he admitted to it.

It was probably something from the memories he'd lost, then.

The sound of wood splitting coincided with his steps. Ice lumped in his throat--for a moment, he feared the planks under his feet had rotted through. He looked down, relieved to see otherwise.

His stare quickly fell on to the other person, then to his hand. The rain washed away the sticky red clinging to it quickly, but the bleeding didn't stop. His stomach lurched at the sight.

" Well it’s nice to meet you Takasato. Ah, well hopefully no more random strange events like that happen again right ? ", she said with a small laugh trying to lighten up the situation. Looked like so far she wasn’t doing such a very good job about it though. Well at least she was trying right ? At least thats what counted, she was trying. Even though she didn’t know him it didn’t hurt to try and be nice. It’d be rude of her to not to at least.

Perhaps maybe she could start some small talk then since she really wasn’t getting anywhere with what she was doing right now. ” Um . . so, what kind of books are you wanting to read here ? “, she asked. Well one can be curious about that right ? Everyone has their own different tastes in what books they read and everything like that. Just like how she was just wandering around looking for a book that was a story with adventure. It was just something she wanted to look for and was in the mood for. Then maybe go to another book about languages or something.

Accidents--a fallen book case, a child falling, a hit to the head. When you put enough coincidences together, they stopped being coincidences.  Whether she was aware of it or not, he was used to this sort of thing. There was nothing he could do to stop it, but bad things happened around him all the time.

He couldn't bring himself to reply to her comment, but still forced a smile. It was the least he could do. After all, he could still tell she was making an effort to be friendly.

The question caught him off guard. Truthfully, he didn't have anything in mind when he came here. He just wanted to read. Perhaps if he learned everything there was to know, he would remember something--he had to.

"Nothing in particular...I just like reading, is all."