Aftermath: Part V

By Soyokaze

“Seiji!” Ryo woke with a start, very unlike Kujuurou, and bolted upright in his chair. A thunderclap sounded as rain pounded on the glass windows. Touma would have jumped in surprise, had his eyes not been focused on something else.

Above the bed was floating that same cloud of dark mist that wanted to form Shikaisen’s body. Ryo imagined he was so angry at being driven out that he could no longer logically form himself out of the many particles of him floating about. He writhed in anger above Seiji’s prone body, which Ryo now realized Kujuurou was covering with a shield, preventing him from reentering. Shin, Nasuti, and Shu were drawn upstairs with the cacophony, and now stood at the open door, gaping at the sight before them.

Shikaisen just floated above them and screeched his rage out, unintelligibly cursing the warrior of Korin and all his friends. As he gradually began to reform and they saw the Shikaisen that was becoming real again in front of them, Ryo thought back on their battle before, his Rekka aura lighting a fire around his body despite the coldness of the storm outside. Shikaisen's writhing eyes turned to him, formidably wrathful, and his blotched lips formed a less than perfect sound:

"Power."

Ryo heard him, through the garbled mess, heard with his mind as well as his ears. The temperature in the room rose by degrees at a time as his aura intensified in the relatively small room, and a smirk twitched the corners of his lips.

"Come get it," was what he said, scoffing at the rogue spirit.

Shikaisen screeched in anger, hurting the ears of all present, and his spirit slammed against Ryo's extended aura with a surprising amount of pull. There was a slight hint of green in the aura of his disfigured spirit; Ryo's anger intensified as he realized that Shikaisen was using Seiji's stolen power to fight against him. His own power spread further, the two auras beating against each other like the waves against the craggy rocks on the shore. The conflicting powers made an almost audible hum as they fought each other, Shikaisen obviously struggling to possess Ryo and maintain his body at the same time.

The warrior of Rekka looked around him as he poured his power into the atmosphere, seeing the faces of Shin and Nasuti looking worriedly on Seiji, Kujuurou's shield protecting all three of them, and Shu and Touma watching his battle with courage and determination in their eyes; their will reached out to him strongly as their kanji shone bright on their brows.

It was his job to protect them all. That was why he existed. He protected those he loved with all his heart and his mind, and his power was a result of that. The Rekka was a symbol of the heart.

Shikaisen existed to take over the armors, to take over his friends; after he had killed Seiji from the inside out, he would probably move on to Shin or Touma, and break them down as well. Shin's compassion and Touma's logic, the very tools by which they dealt with their losses, would make them prime targets for Shikaisen's rage. Shu may not have been very sharp of mind, but he had the will to resist Shikaisen to the very last; his hard-head would make it difficult, but the spirit would win over them all in the end if something was not done. Ryo knew that he was not going to stand by and watch while this demon spirit invaded their bodies and stole their very souls from him. He was not going to let Shikaisen erode their carefully, sturdily sculpted circle so easily. Ryo took one last breath, absorbing the power of his comrades about him, and let it explode in a fiery wave on his foe.

The spirit fought him, his own power blazing in a pillar of green mixed with the light of his ghostly form, and the room around them was hardly visibly any more. The light engulfed everything but the shadows of the figures in the room, and the two warring forces that stood in the center of the vortex of power. But to those who observed, it was clear who would emerge the victor.

Shikaisen let out one last piercing scream before Ryo's power overwhelmed him, burning him into oblivion. The Rekka aura took only a moment to subside, but left in its wake a singed carpet and burn marks on Nasuti's walls, for which Ryo would later be apologizing profusely. But no Shikaisen. Not even a trace, they all quickly made sure of that. The spirit was dead, finally.

The silence was deafening. Kujuurou waited a few moments before letting down his shield. Shin and Nasuti stepped forward to the foot of the bed, while Shu came closer cautiously, wary for any signs of a wandering spirit. Seiji remained unconscious, and rain continued to fall outside, thunder clapping distantly. Touma sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed and took his friend’s hand.

He nearly leapt back when he realized Seiji’s skin was warm.

The next moment, violet eyes slid slowly, wearily open, and Seiji sat up in a daze, looking about at everyone gathered around him. His gaze came to rest on Touma, who was grinning broadly.

“Touma,” Seiji breathed in a voice hoarse with disuse. The name seemed to break the barrier holding all the tension stagnant in the room, and it split heartily, giving way to a flood of relief and happiness. Touma and Seiji embraced each other, soon pummeled by the other ecstatic warriors in the room, and the great pile of joyful bodies was watched by an amused Kujuurou as he ducked to evade flying arms and friendly punches.

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After the initial hugs and slapping of shoulders, Touma helped Seiji to stand on his blood-starved legs, but as soon as he got circulation going in them again, he was moving as easily as he had before all this had happened. He explained to everyone what had happened over the course of the past few days, and apologized profusely for causing everyone so much inconvenience. Of course, the apologies had been denied, scoffed at, and even earned Seiji a few scolds over Shin’s delicious dinner. They were his friends, he had been assured, that was what they were there for.

Kujuurou stayed for dinner that night. He called Kayura, Jirougorou, Naotoki, and Toshitada over to celebrate Seiji's awakening. The Troopers were not the only ones who felt a part of them was missing; Kujuurou felt that he was whole again. Seiji's illness had made a strange void in him that he had not felt since before Arago came to him with the offer of power and richness. He knew that the other Masho were feeling the emptiness through him, at least to some small degree. Kujuurou counted himself lucky that he was so well-suited to help with Seiji's predicament; the special circumstances made the situation even more dire.

Seiji slept late the next few days, assuring everyone nothing else was wrong with him, but he only needed to rest his body and let it recuperate fully. He had almost been entirely dead physically, and a renewed body would need some time to regain stamina. He had not really realized he was still sleeping so late, but his body simply would not let him be up and running with the sun directly after such an experience. He stayed out every night to watch the sun set. He had gained a new appreciation for it.

So Touma found himself out after his friend again, looking high and low for Seiji to bring him back inside. He was not at his usual perch atop the roof, watching as the sun peeked out from behind the black-topped mountains. Touma reached out briefly for his calm, pure familiarity, and found it.

He was careful to be surreptitious, and to wait and watch what Seiji would do. They were back at the area where Seiji had first tried to kill himself, far before the problem with Shikaisen had progressed as horribly as it had. He was dressed in a jacket and slacks, impeccable, as Seiji always was, and the orange light of the sun made him into a slender silhouette amongst the blackened trees. He looked much milder than he had on that night.

He was standing, facing the great tree which had once held the tool of his suicide, and looking at it as if he were making reconciliation with the forest. Tenderly, he reached out, stroking the great, aged trunk, and Touma felt the whole place lifted up again. The ties Seiji had severed before he fell into a state of limbo, the ties he had severed to make himself all the less part of their world and all the more part of the next, were reaffirmed, and if possible stronger than they had been before. The warrior of Korin smiled, warmly and beatifically, and then closed his eyes with a degree of relief and leaned his head forward to rest on the trunk of the great sentinel. After a few moments, Touma felt permitted to reveal himself.

“Seiji,” he called softly, and the warrior of Grace looked up slowly. “Dinner is almost ready. Nasuti wants you to come back to the house.”

Seiji smiled again, looking glad at this small, seemingly routine occurrence. “All right.” His violet eyes focused on his shoes for a moment, and then back to Touma. “Touma,” he began carefully, “I wanted to thank you for coming after me that night. I was so convinced that this would end with my death-”

Touma found he did not want Seiji to continue, so he reached forward and grabbed Seiji’s hand. He had an odd habit of doing that lately, just to feel how warm it was. Seiji looked at him with something between gratitude and sorrow, but his expression changed to surprise when Touma pulled him closer. Seiji was confused as Touma reached up and touched his cheek, traced his jaw with a finger, as he had done for his bedridden friend days earlier, and savored the warmth he felt. As Touma’s hand came to rest on the nape of his neck, Seiji abruptly understood.

Touma was thinking clearly. He really was. He had thought long and hard about what he had to do regarding his relationship with his best friend, and he knew it had become something more, at least to him. It was something that would have to be dealt with. That was the logical standpoint.

What was illogical was everything else.

“Touma-” Seiji started to say something, he was not really sure what, but he was silenced as Touma bent down and their lips met, chastely and softly. It lasted only a moment. Seiji covered his mouth with his fingers, a delicate, exploratory gesture. Touma knew he probably was not sure what to think.

“You’re welcome.”

Seiji looked up into Touma’s blue eyes, and a number of things occurred to him. There were a few

more things he needed to think about, and a great deal of emotions to settle, but one thing was very, suddenly clear to him.

In a sudden burst of happiness, he threw his arms around Touma’s neck. It was more a declaration than a gesture, and it made Seiji feel vibrant enough to take on the world; his illness seemed to vanish. Touma’s arms encircled him, fondly and protectively, and they only stood there, smiles on their faces. They savored the thing passing between them, something that could sustain them for the days, months, and years to come. A new warmth, a very strong one.

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Only made a few little changes. I think I'm happy with this. The Final Chapter of Aftermath! Dun da da dun!

Thanks to WyndShard, Jess, Celesta SunStar (my first reviewer), and Split Persona. JC and Kathrine, you guys are wonderful. Thanks for your reviews!