Dreamer Awakened

CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR

"Mr. Futeki?" she called lowly, hoping that the biker had left his transceiver on. Other than the low static hum, there was nothing but silence. "Mr. Futeki, are you there?" she repeated anxiously.

"My gawd, woman -" his voice crackled so loudly that Momiji visibly jumped, almost dropping the radio to the floor before fumbling for the volume control, nervously shooting another glance towards the bathroom as Mr. Futeki continued speaking. "You weren’t lying about those slimy buggers! I dunno what the hell you did, but they came pouring outta that building, like a fast moving mudslide!

"It wasn’t me, exactly," Momiji replied quietly, and then shook her head a little, trying to get the conversation going in the right direction. "But never mind that right now. - D-do you remember what I said, about your money?" she asked.

"Of course," he snorted.

"W-well, how would you like to make three times that amount, by doing me a favor?" she ventured, praying he would agree.

"Hell no! You still haven’t paid me what you owe me for the first favor!!" he growled and Momiji felt her heart fall into her shoes, only to rise again as he added gruffly, "But…if you’re in a bind, you can count on me."

"Mr. Futeki," Momiji breathed, feeling overwhelmed, "you don’t know how much this means-"

"Yeah, I do," he grunted. "It means I’ve just screwed myself out of three hundred thousand yen."

"But I’m more than willing to pay it –" Momiji hastened to assure him.

"Yeah, yeah, sister," came his flippant response "just pay me what you owe me and we’ll call it even. In the meantime, maybe you could tell me what it is you want me to do."

Momiji smiled a little. "It might not seem like much," she told him, "but I need you to take me for a ride."

"Where’re we goin’ this time?" he wanted to know, and Momiji spent a good fifteen minutes going over her plans with him. Just as she was finishing up, she heard the hall door open behind her and she turned to see Ms. Matsudaira standing there with Noa in her arms. She guiltily shot out of her chair, belatedly trying to act as if she hadn’t been doing anything suspicious before the scientist had come in.

"I knew you’d be wondering where Noa had gotten to, and I just wanted to let you know what was going on," Matsu began, while Momiji tried not to let her disconcertment at the older woman’s word’s show.

With all that had happened, it hadn’t even occurred to her to look and see if Noa was missing. Conscience-stricken, she couldn’t bring herself to argue when Matsu went on to say, "Now that the ceramic bracelets have been perfected, and given the recent turn of events, it’s been decided that he should be kept on the move until there is a better understanding of just how powerful our enemy has become." Matsu momentarily paused, glancing briefly at Momiji as she digested this information before ending in an apologetic way. "The Self-Defense Force will be taking custody of him, Momiji – at least until it can be discerned whether or not there is still a threat to his safety."

Momiji swallowed and then gave a slight nod of her head, her green eyes resting on the sleeping face of the dark-headed baby. Something in her expression prompted Matsu to ask in an odd tone, "You’re okay with this? - I was almost certain you would feel that this decision goes against what you’d promised Kaede…"

Momiji took a moment before she answered. It was true; Kaede had asked her to watch after him. But now that Susano-oh had returned the tantou to her, she would no longer be able to fulfill that promise.

"I understand," Momiji replied haltingly. "This is what is best for him right now. I think all that Kaede wanted was to keep him safe – and she thought that as long as I had Kusanagi by my side and the power of the Kushinada to protect him, that there could be no safer place for him. But now –" Momiji paused in reflection, her thoughts so bleak that she couldn’t seem to stop them from pouring out. " Now, that is no longer the case. Because the Tengugaki have what they want, my blood alone no longer has the power to keep them in check; and Kusanagi too – he will be fighting his battles far away from me

"Don’t say that," Matsu interrupted, a heavy frown pulling her dark brows down over slightly reproachful eyes. "You know that he is trying desperately to protect you."

"I know," Momiji acknowledged with a small nod, her green eyes lusterless as she met Matsu’s gaze. "I know that this is not what he wants; and that he thinks he is doing the only thing he can to protect me." She broke off, suddenly restless, and took several steps away from Matsu. Even though she understood his reasons, she still felt that he was wrong, and the urge to continue arguing the point suddenly welled up inside her. She stared blindly at the whitewashed wall in front of her, trying to squelch the urge.

"You think he’s wrong," Matsu stated more than asked. The dubious tone of her voice suggested that she disagreed with Momiji’s point of view. Momiji looked over her shoulder at the older woman and she knew that despite her neutral expression, Matsu’s views were aligned with Kusanagi’s and Mr. Kunikida’s.

Turning on her heel, she faced Matsudaira once more, feeling disappointed that no one seemed to understand.

With a defeated sigh, Momiji gave a small shrug and looked away, saying, "It doesn’t matter anymore. In the end, what I think doesn’t change anything, does it?"

Matsu’s eyes suddenly filled with sympathy and Momiji could see that she was searching for some way to offer her comfort. But Momiji didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It was probably better this way anyway, since the battle she must prepare herself for was one she might not return from, and therefore one she couldn’t disclose to Kusanagi or Matsu or any of the other dear friends and family who wanted to keep her safe.

"Well, what about Murakumo?" Momiji suddenly blurted out as she sought to direct the conversation into different channels.

"Eh?" Matsu blinked, fully disconcerted. "What about Murakumo?" she echoed, not sure what he had to do with what was happening between Momiji and Kusanagi.

"Does he know the plans regarding his son?" Momiji asked, gesturing to the sleeping baby. Matsu’s countenance went through a rapid transformation and Momiji stared almost disbelievingly at her. "He doesn’t know, does he?" she asked dismayed, barely waiting for the guilty shake of Matsu’s head before she cried, "you can’t just take his son and not say anything! Don’t you think he has a right to know!?"

"He didn’t know before," Matsu replied diffidently, "or at least, not because we told him –"

"But that’s only because, before, we, he – but now - " Momiji stumbled, trying to make her point before she stammered, "He’s on our side now, and Noa is his son. He should be told!"

"But what if he refuses and doesn’t let us take him?" Matsu asked, her doubtufl expression clearly saying that she fully expected the Aragami lord to refuse.

"Why would he do that?" Momiji wanted to know.

"Well, as you just pointed out, Noa is his son. Isn’t that reason enough?" she responded wryly. "He doesn’t bother to hide his opinion regarding human activity and you can see the distain he has as he watches our efforts to stem the Tengugaki activity. He clearly considers us inept."

"Inept or not," Momiji argued persistently, "it would be wrong not to tell him. What about this then," she offered as Matsu continued to shake her head doubtfully at her, "you go ahead and take Noa and I’ll tell Murakumo – that way he will know, but he won’t be able to stop it."

Matsu relented after a moment’s consideration and then she looked at her watch and said, "Well, a Self-Defense force team will be waiting for us. I need to go."

Momiji leaned forward then and put her cheek against the crown of Noa’s head, dropping a soft kiss there before straightening back up. "Stay safe, little one," she whispered to him and then gave Matsu a tremulous smile, already experiencing the jarring emotions that come with separation.

"It won’t be for long," Matsu said, her own face suddenly drawn and solemn. This was almost as heart wrenching for her as it was for Momiji.

Momiji nodded in understanding and after a small pause, Matsu turned and began walking away. "About Murakumo -- you should be able to find him with Midori," she suggested thoughtfully over her shoulder as she continued down the hallway. "They’re keeping her on the fourth floor – in the Medical wing."

"Okay, thanks!" Momiji said, responding to Matsu’s parting wave with one of her own before turning in the opposite direction and heading towards the stairwell.

As many times as she had been in this building, she had never been on the fourth floor and as she emerged from the stairwell, Momiji curiously looked around as she approached the observation post occupying the central wall in front of her. It looked exactly as one would expect a nurses’ station to look, save for the fact that the people working behind the counter were dressed in white military uniforms.

This floor was normally off-limits to anyone except those with high-level security clearance because it served as a quarantine unit and was medically equipped to isolate and deal with any infectious outbreak that might occur. But because the outbreak currently threatening Japan wasn’t viral, or bacterial and had still produced many victims among the Self-Defense force as well as now having claimed a member of the TAC, security access had been extended. After making an inquiry regarding her friend’s room from one of the nurses working at the station, Momiji set off at a brisk pace down the hall, only slowing when she saw a harried looking physician spring from a door just ahead of her and sprint rapidly away in the opposite direction without ever looking back.

Momiji watched him disappear around the corner, before turning to glance at the room number. It was Midori’s. Tentatively, Momiji reached to push the door open, but before her fingers even touched the latch, she reflexively jerked backwards as it flew open and Kome came barreling out, almost colliding with Momiji head-on. Without a single word of greeting, Momiji found herself bombarded by a barrage of angry words.

"That arrogant, cold-hearted, piece of Aragami trash!" Kome snarled at Momiji causing her to take a cautionary step backwards. Momiji eyed the redhead in alarm; she was in such a temper that she appeared ready to pounce. "Just who the hell does he think he is, anyway?"

"W-what happened?" Momiji inquired weakly

Kome motioned backwards towards the bland wooden door behind them. "That black headed brute threw me out! I mean, he forcefully chucked me from the room!"

Momiji gaped at her.. "No!?" and at her friend’s vigorous affirmation, "But… why?"

"Who knows?" Kome shrugged sourly. "I think he took exception to the doctor’s news."

"News? What news?" Momiji wanted to know, gripped by uneasiness as Kome’s sour expression melted into one of sadness.

"About Midori," Kome said haltingly and Momiji’s stomach twisted into knots, suddenly seized with the most awful sinking sensation.

"She’s not – she’s going to be okay isn’t she? – Isn’t she!?" she demanded, stepping forward, her fingers convulsively curling into a tight grip on the sleeve of Kome’s jacket.

"Yes," Kome replied bracingly, her warm fingers resting reassuringly atop Momiji’s. "She’s going to be fine."

Momiji slumped over in relief her fingers sliding away from Kome’s sleeve to rest against her chest as her heart began settling back into a normal rhythm. "You had me really scared there for a minute," she breathed, her eyes moving towards Midori’s door.

"Well, that is to say, her life is not in danger, Momiji," Kome began in a conciliating way and Momiji’s eyes returned sharply to the red-head’s sober expression as she grimaced and said, "But the doctor’s news wasn’t all good."

"In what way was it not good?" Momiji demanded tensely.

"I suppose that’s why Murakumo got so upset and threw us out –" Kome began before Momiji impatiently interrupted her.

"Why!? Why!? Tell me already, Kome! What wasn’t good!?" she demanded in a frenzy.

"Well, the doctor – he, he did say he was confident that Midori would recover, but," Kome paused, her eyes apologetic as she added, "he also said that because of the severe blood loss and scarring to her uterus, he felt that Midori’s womb would atrophy – that she would be unable to conceive another child."

Momiji stood unmoving for a moment, and then she mumbled faintly, "and that was when Murakumo went berserk?"

Kome slowly nodded, suddenly no longer angry now that she’d had a chance to consider things from Murakumo’s point of view. "He’d been so quiet until the doctor said that that it was a shock when he suddenly stormed towards us and ordered us to get out. Neither I nor the doctor moved for a minute or two. I think we were both too surprised by his sudden fury. But he didn’t wait for us to. He drew out that sword of his and that was all it took to get the doctor through the door. But me," she continued ruminatively, "deep down, I knew he wouldn’t use it, and I just sort of stood there still in shock over the news until he came over and seized me by the arm. If my legs hadn’t moved on their own when he yanked me towards the door, I have no doubt that he would have dragged me all the way across the floor just to get me out. As it was, he more or less hurled me through the door once he had me there."

"Poor Midori," Momiji murmured sadly, taking a small step towards the door before Kome reached out and put a detaining hand on her arm.

"I wouldn’t go in there if I were you," she advised, "at least not for a while," she amended letting her hand drop back to her side as she added, "why don’t you give him a few hours to – I don’t know – to come to terms with what’s happened."

"I doubt that just a few hours is going to be enough for him to accept what the doctor said," Momiji declared, "besides – I have to tell him that the Self-Defense force has taken his son –"

She broke off then, her countenance becoming tense as she heard Kome mutter, "Oh boy."

"I guess it’s best to break the news quickly," Momiji decided, straightening her spine and trying to mentally prepare herself as she stepped forward to push the door open.

"Need my gun?" Kome asked, half-joking, half-serious from behind her.

Momiji turned her head and glanced back.

"I think I’ve used a gun enough for one day," she replied with a small smile. "In fact, if I never held another gun in this lifetime it would still be too soon."

Crossing her arms, Kome snorted disbelievingly, and Momiji’s smile widened a bit. She knew her friend wouldn’t share her sentiment. Momiji nodded to her and smiled as she slipped through door, but once on the other side, the smile faded. Her eyes flitted first to Midori and then to Murakumo. She idly noted that he’d changed into a clean set of clothes and Momiji recognized the blue hakama and white kimono he was wearing as belonging to Mr. Kunikida. They were too short for him, despite the fact that Mr. Kunikida was a big man himself. But she doubted that Murakumo cared about that.

As of this moment, he stood, his back framed by the darkened window, staring broodingly beyond the panes. Momiji half doubted that he was truly studying the scenery since most of the city still lay enshrouded in blackness – or at least the parts that surrounded the TAC building anyway.

Almost as if he sensed her close scrutiny, he turned and the shadows in his eyes took her aback. Quickly she looked away, and turned her attention to the still figure of Midori. Slowly Momiji ventured towards her friend’s bedside, aware that the silence between her and Murakumo couldn’t have been any more fraught with tension. Perhaps that was why she was able to sense it when he turned back to face the window even though her own back was now to him.

Was this a signal - albeit a grudging one – that he at least tolerated her presence? Should she say something now? she wondered absently as she looked down at Midori’s pale face in concern, or should she wait? If she did speak, would he even pay attention to what it was she was trying to say? Or would he just snarl at her and eject her from the room in the same way as he had the doctor and Kome? Momiji silently groaned. If she’d known it was going to be this difficult telling him about his son, she wouldn’t have volunteered for the job, she thought plaintively.

But she just couldn’t stand there and not tell him! She argued with herself impatiently. The absolute worst that could happen was that he would throw her out. Or at least she hoped that was the absolute worst – she shuddered to think of what else he might do. What if he – but no - taking a deep breath she launched into speech then, afraid to give herself any more time to fret about how he might react.

"Murakumo – I wanted to tell you," she rapidly blurted out without turning in his direction, "the Self-Defense Force has taken your son away –" she winced at her own words and hastily amended it to, "that is to say, they’re keeping him on the move rather than hiding him -," she stopped speaking and started wringing her hands in front of her, appalled at how she was making it sound. "- no, wait, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded - they’re still hiding him – I didn’t mean to imply that they weren’t!" She turned around then, shooting him an anxious look in case he’d misunderstood her – which, if he had, she thought, frustrated, it wouldn’t be surprising. "It’s just that they thought it would be safer for Noa to be on the move now that the Tengugaki have…"

Her voice petered out. Murakumo was more aware than anyone of what exactly the Tengugaki had. Nervously, she waited for him to respond. After the longest minute, she thought that he hadn’t heard her – that perhaps he was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he was oblivious to everything else for he remained motionless by the window.

But then in a very quiet voice he queried, "How do you tolerate it?"

Momiji’s brows rose over her rounded eyes.

"Pardon?" she stammered uncertainly.

"The frailty. The tenuous existence of being human? How do you tolerate the fear and anxiety of losing that – ?" he paused and half turned in her direction, his voice even softer as he ended, "of being too weak to stop others from taking it from you?"

His eyes drifted from Momiji to Midori and then he turned and faced the window again without waiting for a reply, and Momiji sensed the disquiet in him

"I’m not human and yet –" he paused, and when he finally continued it was as if the words were being torn from him, "I find it almost impossible to bear…"

"I suppose we bear it the only way we know how," Momiji replied slowly. "By trying to protect what’s important; shield those that are most fragile and live in the hope that in time those we have protected will become stronger." She moved towards him, then, reaching behind her back as she did so. "Have you seen this before?" she asked as she withdrew the tantou that had remained hidden beneath her shirt and extended her hand to show him.

Impassively he turned his head, but as his eyes lit on the blade his body tensed and his eyes darted sharply to her face.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded.

"It’s belonged to my family for a very long time, and until recently my grandmother had it. She gave it to me, but then, Susano-oh took it." Still holding it, she dropped her hand back down to her side, her eyes focused earnestly on his face as she continued. "He returned it to me tonight."

"For what purpose?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"He believes it may be the only way to win." She replied simply, "and I believe he is right."

"If this is the protection you were talking about, then I will not let you throw yourself onto the sacrificial altar knowing that you will take my son with you." Murakumo informed her coldly taking a step towards her. "That blade has only ever been used to vanquish the Aragami –"

"But your son is not just Aragami," Momiji cut in earnestly, "he’s human too - and he has the ceramics to protect him – as do you and Kusanagi - As long as you are all protected by the ceramic field, then everything will be fine."

Murakumo’s grey eyes stared piercingly at her and she remained unwavering beneath them, until he said, "I cannot believe that your TAC would allow you to use that."

"I haven’t told them," she admitted dropping her gaze and turning restlessly, her eyes settling once again on Midori. "That’s why I need your help – and if you want to protect those that are most fragile right now, then you’ll help me," she urged, turning back to face him.

Momiji waited anxiously while Murakumo stared dubiously at her, considering her words, and she silently prayed that he would understand that this was the only way. With his help, her plan had an even better chance of succeeding than if she were to just rely on Mr. Futeki alone since there were things Murakumo could do that the biker could not.

"And what is it you would have me do?" Murakumo asked, his silky voice betraying none of the wariness in his eyes. "Stand alongside the altar with you and act as the world’s liberator and murderer of the Kushinada?" he languidly motioned to the knife still clutched in her hand.

"Nothing that dramatic," Momiji replied, and then added regretfully, "but something almost as equally damning."

Murakumo raised an eyebrow at that and waited for her to elaborate.

Reeling from weakness but triumphant all the same, Tamanasu knelt before the twisted trunk of his Daemon Lord, feeling the intensity of all four of his Lord’s eyes upon his down bent head.

"It is done, My Lord," Tamanasu wearily informed Akumakai who hissed in pleasure at these words.

Blurrily out of the corner of his eye, Tamanasu saw one of Akumakai’s tendrils creeping slowly towards him and he drew in his breath sharply as it plunged towards him with lightning speed, impaling him with its blunt tip. Brutal pain pulsated as putrid energy flowed into his body, filling up the void that had been created by his wounds. Then the slimy tendril pulled itself free, and as it slowly crept back towards the darkness, the hole it had made in Tamanasu’s back slowly closed.

Dragging himself to his feet, he staggered forward a few steps and managed a bow, saying in strangled accents, "You have replenished my strength, My Lord. Thank you–" and then as the pain began to abate, he straightened again, craning his neck to look into the withered visage of Akumakai.

"You have brought it to us," Akumakai breathed, lascivious greed burning in his eyes as he bent lower so that he could peer at the red and white pulsating mitama on Tamanasu’s forehead. "The hybrid’s soul."

Raising one of his hands, he extended a long, emaciated finger and touched the mitama. Immediately, light flared outwards, illuminating both Tengugaki and as the energy flowed from servant to master, Akumakai threw back his head and closed his eyes, his mouth curling into a bestial kind of smile. The glow faded and Tamanasu’s mitama returned to black while Akumakai’s mitamas begin to glow white. And then the Arch Daemon began to laugh; raucous triumphant laughter that shook the earth.

No, Tamanasu thought as he moved to keep his footing as the ground shifted beneath him. Akumakai’s lower body was reawakening – moving beneath them! Tamanasu turned his head and looked out into the darkness. The many tendrils of Akumakai’s body were releasing their prey and began moving upwards, sinking into the barrier of bedrock above them as if it were nothing.

"At last!" Akumakai thundered, looking upwards and clenching his fists in relish as the hybrid power begin filtering through his body. Then he turned his gaze back towards the ground. "You have served us well," he said addressing Tamanasu who was still having difficulty maintaining his balance as huge chunks of earth began to fall away from beneath his feet. "What would you ask of us in return?"

"Let me kill the Kushinada and her guardian, Kusanagi," he requested, "I want their energy."

"Consider them yours," Akumakai told him as the lower part of his body emerged from beneath the earth where it had been anchored for aeons and he began to stretch upwards. "Our awakened flesh is eager to taste the souls of the Overworld, Tamanasu," he said, beckoning to his most trusted servant. "We will let you lead the way."

Momiji took a deep breath before she reached for the doorknob to the lab. Everything was set, she mused. Now it was just a matter of waiting for things to fall into place. All that remained was making peace with Kusanagi.

Please don’t still be mad, Kusanagi, she silently pleaded.

She didn’t want the time they had left to be marred by angry thoughts and feelings between them. Finally pulling open the door, she stepped inside and peered past the glass of the observation booth. The room beyond was empty.

"Hmm," Momiji murmured softly, "that’s strange."

Swiftly taking the tantou out from beneath her shirt, she hid it at the back of the rolling cart so no one would see it and then stepped towards the glass door and opened it. Leaning through, she felt of jolt of concern when she realized that the shower was still running.

"Kusanagi?" she called out anxiously.

There was no answer. It had been over an hour since she had left. He shouldn’t still be in there. "Kusanagi? Are you there?" she called again, moving quickly through the room towards the bathroom. What if he was lying in the bottom of the shower, unconscious from his wounds? Her heart pounding hard, she entered the bathroom, pulled back the shower curtain and stopped short when she saw him, concern darkening her eyes even as relief washed through her in seeing that he was safe.

He was leaning with his arms outstretch, palms flat against the wall and his head bent in a defeated pose. Long strands of dark hair hung in a curtain in front of his closed eyes, cold water streaming down it in rivulets as he just stood there, oblivious to everything, breathing heavily, his body wracked by hard shivers.

"What are you doing!?" Momiji cried. "You’re freezing!"

Hurriedly shutting off the water, she reached for a towel and moved closer to him, but he just continued to stand there, breathing hard and making small noises as if he were struggling with some invisible force.

"Kusanagi," she called again, this time quietly, "can you hear me?"

Reaching out, she touched his arm. It was ice cold, and he jerked at her touch. Pushing the hair out of his eyes, he swung his head sideways and opened his eyes, looking at her in surprise, like she had just popped up there out of thin air.

"Momiji," he mumbled thickly, moving sluggishly towards her as she held out the towel to wrap it around him.

"Didn’t you hear me calling you?" she asked querulously, as she tucked the towel around his and then turned to get another one for the rest of him. "Why didn’t you get out when the water got cold? Are you all right? Are your wounds hurting?" she rapidly fired at him. She turned her head to look back at him but he was facing her, so she couldn’t see the wounds crisscrossing his back. She opened her mouth to tell him to turn around so she could see, but he snagged her around the waist and pulled her sideways towards him. Her surprise at his sudden movement made her drop her extra towel and she lost her balance. Her cheek smacked hard against his chest, the droplets of water clinging to him getting her wet.

"We had an agreement," Kusanagi mumbled above her ear. Even though she was still standing sideways, he tightened his arm around her, his embrace crumpling one of her shoulders against him, getting her more and more wet by the moment. "He promised me…"

Heedless of the cold, wet discomfort, soaking through her clothes, Momiji put her hand on his shoulder.

"He promised me!" Kusanagi repeated in anguish, louder this time.

"P-promised you what?" Momiji asked, unsure of what exactly they were talking about.

"I told Susano-oh I would not let him sacrifice you again!" came the adamant reply and she felt a sharp pain in her chest. "I’ll die before I let that happen!"

"Who said he was going to sacrifice me?" she asked hollowly, trying to calm Kusanagi’s agitation.

"Why else would he have come here?" he demanded wildly, finally pushing her away from him so he could look at her. "And why would he ask that of you? I don’t understand!" he rambled on to himself aloud, voicing the same disturbing questions that had surfaced in his dark thoughts over and over for the last hour. "He already knows that your blood can no longer stop the Tengugaki!! So why!? What exactly did he say to you, Momiji!?"

Momiji turned away from his probing eyes, picking up the crumpled towel to try and give herself some time to compose her features into a suitably calm expression. "He told me not to give up – to believe in myself," she explained. "I think he was afraid that would happen since the Tengugaki are going to be even harder to destroy now –"

It sounded weak, even to her own ears, she thought, inwardly wincing. Hesitantly she raised her gaze to Kusanagi, knowing that if she were to allay his fears she must look him in the eyes, even though she herself was afraid he would somehow see the truth she was trying so hard to hide from him. Giving him her best smile, she reached up with the towel to gently brush the moisture away from his chest and shoulders.

"I don’t believe you," he said lowly voice, and she found it difficult to keep the towel moving across his chest.

"Why don’t you believe me?" she finally asked as she lowered her hand, still struggling to hold onto her calm demeanor. "Why would I lie to you?"

"Because, " he bit out, latching onto her arm and pulling her swiftly against him, "because," he repeated unsteadily, his hand cradling the back of her head, "you know how terrified I am of losing you, Momiji."

Momiji swallowed the rising lump in her throat. "I don’t want to lose you any more than you want to lose me," she told him shakily.

His arm tightened around her, and then the ground began to vibrate. It was a small tremor at first, but it quickly strengthened until the entire room was shuddering. Before she even had a chance to think, earthquake’, an alarm was going off and by then, she knew it was something far more sinister than a simple earthquake.

This is it, Momiji thought as Kusanagi thrust her away from himself and, his face set in grim lines, began throwing on his clothes while she just stood by and watched.

The room was still rumbling as he once again pulled her close for a long moment. "You’ll be all right," he told her tightly, pain lacing his words, "I’ll make sure of it."

"Kusanagi – " She wanted so much to tell him not to go – instead she said, "I love you. Please, be careful…"

"I will –" He held her for only a few seconds longer, and then, abruptly releasing her, he left without looking back.

Momiji watched him disappear, and even though he could no longer hear her, she whispered, "You will be all right. I’ll make sure of it."

Momiji changed her clothes, putting on her ceremonial robes and then returned to the observation booth. The sirens were still sounding and the ground was still trembling, but the terrible shuddering of before had subsided. Now it was more like a muted thundering, the vibrations like the signal of a massive, oncoming storm. She turned on the TLTS system and was horrified to see it was awash with so many blips that it almost looked like one solid mass of light. All of those people, she thought, remembering those that she’d passed in the streets on her way to Midori’s apartment. What would become of them all?

Suddenly she felt so tired and so old, much older than her nineteen years. What would become of all of those people if her plan failed? Reaching over into the cart, Momiji retrieved her tantou from its hiding place.

"It will work," she told herself vehemently and picked up the two-way radio.

Standing in the very back of the parking garage for the second time in the space of a few short hours, Momiji waited nervously, the Tengugaki energy pounding around her, coming from every direction. Sweeping the yellow beam of her flashlight from left to right, she fingered the small pouch she’d hung around her neck which contained the small leftover ceramics she’d managed to pilfer from storage. It had been amazingly easy, not that doing it had given her any great sense of accomplishment. Far from it, in fact.

Everyone had been scrambling to respond to all the Emergency Orders that were flying in from both the TAC and the Self-Defense Force. No one was concerned about thefts, which, she supposed was her good fortune, although it did little to alleviate the fear twisting inside her. There was something monstrous out there – something bigger and darker that possessed a more terrifying energy than the normal Tengugaki, and Momiji knew it had to be Akumakai; the Arch Daemon Tamanasu had mentioned.

Thoughts of her husband and the rest of her TAC friends constantly battled to dominate her mind as she agonized over what they were facing out there. It made her want to forget about waiting for Mr. Futeki and head out on her own. But to do so would be foolish as well as dangerous – she fingered the pouch one more time, wondering if the ceramics would be enough to keep the Tengugaki from recognizing her energy pattern. It made her uneasy knowing how strongly she could feel their energy despite the ceramics – if she could feel their’s, did that mean they could feel her energy just as well?

Stay calm, she told herself. There was only one of her and hundreds of them – the ceramics should be enough to mute the energy of one individual. At least, she desperately hoped so, for it would make getting where she needed to go much easier; and if it didn’t work – well, perhaps Kusanagi, Murakumo and the TAC could keep the Tengugaki busy enough for her to be able to slip their notice for just long enough.

Momiji jumped a little as the mechanized grinding of the gate leading into the garage sprang into life, breaking into her thoughts. She immediately turned her flashlight off, praying that it would be Mr. Futeki coming down the ramp.

It was, and she breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly drove towards her, obviously looking for her and not seeing her. To help him out, she turned her flashlight back on and waved it at him.

"You were right about the radio," he said, waving the transceiver at her. "The guards posted outside let me through without any trouble after I gave them your name and they looked up the serial number – who would’ve believe it would be that easy?"

With a short laugh, he tucked the radio back into his jack as he rolled to a stop next to her.

"Well - you ready?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Without getting off his bike he propped his foot against the cement for balance and gave her a scrutinizing glance as she nodded.

"That’s quite some get-up you’re wearing, sister," he told her, looking at the billowing fabric of her white hakama sticking out from beneath her winter coat over which she had slung the holster strap for several firearms.

"I believe in being prepared," she replied, reaching up and conscientiously adjusting one of the straps.

"My lord, it’s like you’re the miko from hell," he mumbled and then with a sniff added, "are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation and then pointed to a rather substantial canvas bag at her feet. "Do you think we can get this on the bike?"

"What the hell is that?" he asked, his voice cracking in surprise.

"More ammunition," she succinctly replied the succinct reply as she watched him lower his kickstand and climb off the bike.

"You’re already a regular one man army!" He waved his leather clad arm in her direction. "What more could you possibly need?"

"They’re not for me; they’re for you."

His expression became dour at that and she watched him heft the bag up and anchor it behind the seat with a few cords he took from a small storage compartment near the rear of the bike.

"That’s reassuring," he said sourly, "expecting a butt load of trouble, are we?"

"You drove here," Momiji remarked, "you should know what’s out there."

For a minute he didn’t say anything and when he finally did reply all of his bravado was gone.

"Yeah, there’s a lot of those ugly buggers out there – The police are doing their best to get people into shelters, but, it seems that humans are a helluva lot slower than they are…" he trailed off, and finished strapping the bag to the bike before he turned, looking directly at her when he finished, "I almost didn’t make it here, missy, and if it had been anybody else that’d asked, I would’ve said to hell with it and gotten to a shelter." He got on his bike then, and looking straight ahead, conceded, "But, you’re not just anybody."

Touched, Momiji was unable to think of a reply. So she stood there awkwardly, until she noticed his little sarcastic sneer was back and he pointed to her, saying, "Anyone can see that just by lookin’ at ‘ya. ‘Better be glad them cops is busy, missy. Otherwise they might be locking you away in your own shelter – one with a guarded door and padded walls!" Then he fixed an eye on her and asked austerely, ""You gonna get on, or what?"

Taking a deep breath, Momiji nodded and climbed on behind him. Mr. Futeki made a wide sweeping circle and slowly drove back towards the parking ramp.

"Uhh, I’m not trying to rush you or anything," Mr. Futeki said as they neared the ramp, "but you might want to tell me where it is we’re heading before we actually get outside. It gets really ugly once we get past the barricaded guard line – which probably won’t be easy since you’re with me and you’ve already told me that you don’t want them to know you’ve left."

"We need to get to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Offices in West Shinjuku," she told him, "all of the strong seismic activity seems to be coming from that area which leads me to believe that is where our attack will be most effective. I think our easiest route will be through the subway tunnels. We can follow the Marunouchi line tunnel until it crosses over the Ōedo line. Then we’ll double back there and exit at the Tochomae Station. The Government Office building has an underground entrance. We should be able to get directly into it from the subway station."

"Tochomae, eh?" he said, beginning to urge the bike up the ramp. "But are you sure that you wanna go through the tunnels?"

"Yes – normally this would be where the Tengugaki are at their strongest – but now that Akumakai is here, I’m almost certain that most of them are hunting above-ground."

"Who the hell is Akumakai?" Mr. Futeki wanted to know.

"Their leader –" Momiji responded and then stopped as they emerged from the parking ramp to the loud sound of gunfire.

She felt Mr. Futeki lean low towards the front of the bike and as he revved the bike engine he yelled, "Hang on, sister, and put your head down!"

Momiji ducked, pressing her face against him and they shot forward. She was vaguely aware of the blur of Self-Defense Force soldiers rushing to the left and right of them; most of them too busy with the Tengugaki to pay any heed to them. But as they approached the demarcation line, she could hear cries for them to stop. Mr. Futeki tensed and she automatically tightened her arms around him. Momiji shut her eyes as she heard a garbled cry rising from Mr. Futeki. They hit something then, and parts of a wooden barricade went flying in all directions.

She flinched as several pieces battered her shins and ankles, but she kept her face against Mr. Futeki until she felt the bike turn west and heard the engine whine as he quickly accelerated to evade the shouts of protest from the soldiers they’d left behind. Braving a look over her shoulder, Momiji saw that they weren’t going to be pursued. Keeping the Tengugaki at bay was obviously more important than pursuing two humans reckless enough to throw themselves straight into the lions’ den.

"Hey!" Mr. Futeki shouted at her, drawing her attention away from the TAC building that was fast receding into the darkness, "how ‘bout using one of those things you got strapped on? The nearest subway station is still two blocks away and we’ve already been tagged as food!"

He pointed ahead and Momiji peered over his shoulder and saw, silhouetted in the motorcycles headlight a group of Tengugaki crouched in the middle of an intersection between abandoned cars, waiting for them. Momiji’s eyes immediately darted past the empty cars littering the streets to scan the sidewalks left and right of them, but it was too dark to see anything.

"God knows how many of them are skulking around that we can’t see," Mr. Futeki muttered, giving voice to Momiji’s thoughts, "lucky for us, though, there are all these abandoned cars to act as a buffer. The only ones we really have to worry about are in places where there’s room for them to maneuver."

That would be intersections – like the one ahead, Momiji thought grimly. Two more blocks meant at least one more intersection after this one. Reaching up she quickly unsnapped one of the guns from the holster with her left hand and then unsnapped another one with her right. Holding onto the guns and Mr. Futeki was going to prove something of a challenge, especially if he started trying any fancy maneuvering.

"Are you ready?" he asked taughtly, as they slowly approached the intersection.

"Yes," Momiji nodded, "-but try not to swerve too much – or I might fall of!"

"Understood - here we go!" Mr. Futeki shouted, and once again, he gunned the engine, accelerating as they entered the intersection while the Tengugaki swarmed in their direction.

Momiji didn’t wait for them to close in this time like she had the last. She rapidly fired her pistol, watching in horror as a wave of slime covered flesh and red-slitted eyes moved ever closer to them. There were so many of them, one right next to each other that none of her bullets missed, but neither did any of her bullets seem to be making a huge difference in the number of them. Hurriedly, she tried raising her other gun and fired right into the center of the swarm. A bright flare erupted in the darkness and as it struck, it caused chaos and confusion among the Tengugaki.

"Hurry! Go!" Momiji urged Mr. Futeki, peering through the long strands of chestnut hair streaming around her face as she looked back over her shoulder.

Her eyes lingered on the burning flare embedded in one of the Tengugaki and a group of others that were milling around it, blinded by the light. Some on the fringes that were less affected by the flare broke off from the rest and began pursuing them, but as Mr. Futeki maneuvered the motorcycle into the narrow channel formed by the row of abandoned cars in the next street, they quickly gave up. Perhaps they preferred to search the dark buildings for less agile prey than waste their energy chasing two measly humans down.

Thankful for a moment of respite, Momiji quickly put it to good use. Tucking her nine millimeter back in its holster, she reached for another flare and reloaded her gun.

"You done yet?" Mr. Futeki fired over his shoulder, "we’re coming up on the next intersection!"

"Ready!" Momiji yelled, and they blasted through this intersection the same as they had the last.

Once through, Momiji again reloaded but this time, instead of rearming herself with her nine millimeter, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a grenade. Thrusting it past his ear, she said, "Here - as soon as we get within range of the subway entrance, I need you to pull the pin, count to three and then throw this."

Without a word, Mr. Futeki took it leaving her free to withdraw the other flare gun she’d thought to strap over her coat. Not far now, she told herself – but she knew that this was to be the hardest part of their journey yet. They would have to slow to make a turn towards the sidewalk and any Tengugaki lurking in the vicinity would be able to take advantage of that fact. Accuracy was proving to be a moot point, and Momiji prayed that the Grenade would be more effective at causing chaos than the flares had been since they didn’t have the speed or the obstacles to help them evade the enemy.

Mr. Futeki slowed the bike and nosed it to the right. Neither she nor he was surprised to see the sickly yellow glimmer of slimy skin reflected in the bike’s headlamp as they headed towards the sidewalk. They were already poised to strike, and Momiji tightened her grip on her flare guns.

"Stop!" she yelled before they cleared the cars on the street.

"What!?" Mr. Futeki cried. "Are you deranged!?"

"Stop and throw the grenade!" she insisted urgently.

Mr. Futeki threw a quick glance down the sidewalk towards the stairs leading to the subway tunnel before looking back at the Tengugaki in front of them. "We’re not close enough to the stairs!" he argued.

"It doesn’t matter! If you don’t throw it, we won’t make it!" Momiji cried, "Just throw it and then make a beeline towards the station – don’t worry about what’s in front of us – hopefully the grenade will blow a hole that we’ll be able to go through…"

- Hopefully; she thought, and if not, everything would end here…

After a slight hesitation, Mr. Futeki gave a curt nod. Keeping his eyes on the throng of Tengugaki watching them from the sidewalk, he slowed to a halt and then pulled the grenade pin, lobbing it towards the Tengugaki that had begun to close in on them after the bike had stopped moving.

With a curse under his breath, he slammed on the gas. The bike spun its tires with a loud squeal before it finally surged forward, and grimly he hoped the grenade would go off before he and Momiji reached the line of Tengugaki. Otherwise, they’d be blown to bits as well. Concentrating all of his focus straight ahead, he was caught off guard, flinching, when he felt the recoil of Momiji’s elbow against his ribs. Belatedly he realized that she’d just fired her flare along the same path his grenade had taken and he convulsively tightened his hands on the handlebars of his bike, waiting.

Less than a second later, there was a loud explosion and a momentary blinding light as both the grenade went off and the flare struck its target. Again, a string of obscenities rose to his lips as he threw his hand up, shielding his face from pieces of flying shrapnel and smelly chunks of slimy flesh that pelted him. Unable to see where he was going, he turned the nose of the bike in what he hoped was the direction of the subway, trying not to notice from the corners of his eyes just how close the Tengugaki were crowding around them. Behind him, Momiji was moving frantically replacing her empty flare guns with the nine millimeter in order to keep shooting.

Sooner than he realized and not quite believing it; they were at the station stairs. The continual sound of Momiji’s gun and her odd twisted position behind him told Mr. Futeki that they were being pursued. Reaching down he grabbed hold of the one hand she had wrapped around his waist to better anchor her and then warned, "Hang on – it’s gonna get a little bumpy," before he sent his motorcycle plunging down the pitch-black stairs. Momiji continued to fire, and several times he heard a guttural squeal when one of the Tengugaki went down. By the time he reached the empty ticket gate, she had stopped firing – whether it was because she was out of bullets or because she was out of targets, he was afraid to ask.

Without hesitating, he sent the bike through the gate and across the wide empty expanse of the platform until he was at the edge. Turning, they rode along the white line until they neared the station wall and then Mr. Futeki sent the bike over the edge, towards the tracks. For a single moment, it felt as if they were hovering in a void, the headlight of the bike illuminating nothing but continual darkness in front of them. And then the bike came crashing down onto the tracks and skidded. Mr. Futeki let both of his feet drag the ground, struggling for control and after a few long seconds, he managed to get them bumping along the tracks as fast as he could manage without vibrating them right off the bike.

"How’s it going back there, sister?" he finally asked, "- Anything coming?"

"No – not that I can see," Momiji informed him cautiously after a long minute.

Suddenly and irrationally, feeling much relieved despite the fact that their situation hadn’t really improved, he loosened his grip on the handlebars and a lopsided grin exposed a set of teeth which were better off not seen in the light of day.

"Hey I think I see the Ōedo line tunnel coming up on the … whoa!" Mr. Futeki exclaimed as the bumps in the road suddenly became large chunks of churned up earth and gravel. "What the hell?"

His sudden outburst distracted her from trying to keep a sharp eye for signs of trouble from the rear, and she jerked her head around to peer over Mr. Futeki’s shoulder. Before she could get a clear look, her nose was smashed up against the middle of his back, her hands tightening convulsively around his waist as they veered sharply to the right, tipping at a precarious angle, the back wheel of the bike fish-tailing back and forth as upturned rubble churned loosely beneath them. Dimly, Momiji could hear Mr. Futeki cursing as he tried to get the bike back under control, but the ground was giving way too much and they went down in a hard skid sliding a good fifteen feet before they came to a stop.

Before they had even come to a complete halt, Momiji was struggling to free her leg from beneath the bike, aware that the narrow beam from the headlight was bouncing off the back of a derailed train car; a sign that something could be lurking within the darkness. The earth was rolling strongly now, most likely because they were getting closer and closer to Akumakai, and she strained wildly, partially aware that Mr. Futeki was oddly quiet. The bike’s engine murmured in a low idle and as Momiji pushed and kicked to get free, she stretched her ears, listening for the sound of ragged, hoarse breathing, praying that the Tengugaki that had destroyed the train had moved on.

Finally free, her right leg partially numb from the blow it had taken, she stumbled to her feet, immediately reaching for one of her flare guns.

"Mr. Futeki!" Momiji called urgently as she held it out in front of her, her eyes trying to pierce the dark veil around her. "Mr. Futeki, are you all right?" she called again, her eyes darting to his back, before shifting away towards the train as she thought she heard something move.

Swiftly she swung around to face the shadowy silhouette of the train, her face twisting in dread as she heard it again: the low guttural sound of a Tengugaki growl. Already panting, Momiji’s chest began to heave even harder in fear. The thin beam of light from the bike was too low to the ground to be of any use in helping her aim. Quickly, she fired her flare gun towards the train car already reaching for the nine millimeter before the flare had struck, knowing that her reflexes weren’t fast enough to beat the enemy.

Sure enough, as soon as the flare hit, the Tengugaki creature erupted from the train and headed towards her. Immediately she started firing, her shots going wide as she tried to anticipate the erratic movements of the Tengugaki in the flickering flare light.

"To hell with that!" she heard Mr. Futeki say from behind her, and just before he tackled her, he yelled, Let’s see you eat this, you slimy trash bag!

Then he wrapped his burly arm around her and slung her to the ground beneath him. Unprepared, she went down hard, knocking the wind out of herself and then immediately choked on a mouthful of soil as she gasped for breath. A split second later, there was the loud sound of a hand grenade going off, but it was almost completely overshadowed by the rising death shriek that echoed through the tunnel. It rose and expanded until she thought she could bear the sound no longer, the wailing of the lost souls tearing at her own before it finally began to wan, leaving Momiji weak and shaking.

"My god," Mr. Futeki panted weakly, "my god, my god, my god…" He rolled away from her onto his back, throwing his forearm up over his eyes so that all Momiji could see in the wavering flare light was the twisted grimace of his mouth. That was too damn… creepy…" His voice trailed off and he sat up, trying to pull himself together. "the other ones never sounded like that."

Momiji gazed at the carnage of scattered humans that littered the area around the train. Because of the darkness and because her focus had been on the Tengugaki, she hadn’t been aware of them before. But now she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them, her throat painfully constricting, imagining what their last moments must have been like.

"It’s because this one had consume a lot of human souls," she replied tightly. "I doubt he was the only one here, judging from all the holes in the ground," Momiji said, indicating to the churned up rubble along the tracks, "—but the others must have been too anxious to get aboveground and left the train fro him –"

Tensing, she broke off and turned her head sharply towards the direction from which they had come. What that movement she heard in the distance? Had the cry of the dying Tengugaki alerted others to their presence? She strained to listen, but the continual rumbling of the earth made it difficult to hear.

"We should get going," Momiji told him., hurrying over to the bike and hastily shoving back into the duffel bag some of the other grenades that Mr. Futeki had partially emptied in his frantic attempt to find something to attack with. "I don’t know how much time we have left, but we need to get above ground as quickly as possible." She peered at Mr. Futeki who was climbing to his feet. "We’re very close now, "Akumakai’s energy is getting stronger. I just hope we can get to the Government Offices in time –"

Momiji broke off and looked away unable to voice her fears. Her eyes fell to the motionless victims around her, and she prayed that when she and Mr. Futeki finally made it to their destination that she wouldn’t arrive to find the same fate had befallen Kusanagi and the TAC.