Dreamer Awakened

CHAPTER FOURTY – FIVE

Muscles aching, the cuts and slashes across his shoulders, chest and back burning, Kusanagi grimly watched as Tamanasu retreated away from him and Murakumo, back towards the grotesque, tree-like form that overshadowed the great cherry tree in Susano-oh Park. Akumakai, the great Arch Daemon: Kusanagi had never imagined that he would be this massive. – He was even bigger than Susano-oh had been in his transformed, plant-like state of three years ago when Momiji had been forced to perform her right of Matsuri, and Akumakai seemed just as indomitable if not more so than Susano-oh had been.

How much longer could they keep fighting before they succumbed? A weary voice inside him conjectured as he observed Akumakai impale Tamanasu upon one of the many withered vines that trailed out from the great trunk of his body. They had ten, maybe fifteen minutes before Tamanasu re-emerged and Kusanagi had lost count of the number of times that he and Murakumo had weakened him, almost to the point of death, before he would retreat beyond their reach, behind an energy barrier that surrounded Akumakai to recover and recharge before returning to fight. Kusanagi and Murakumo had tried many times to find a way to breach the barrier, but even with the added strength that the ceramic bracelets allowed them, the barrier seemed impervious to all of their attacks.

Neither did the TAC’s artillery fire have an effect on it. They had repeatedly been forced to retreat from the vines laying thick across the city. The huge, pulsating veins of Akumakai penetrated both steel and concrete to invade the shops, offices and apartment buildings as the Arch Daemon continued to search for human energy. As of now, the TAC were no longer intent on finding a way to drive the enemy off. Instead they were just fighting to stay alive as the Defense Force scrambled to try and secure places for the city’s residents where the vines could not reach.

Did such a place even exist? Kusanagi wondered bleakly, Momiji’s face rising before his eyes. He would fight to the bitter end for her, but, he realized, that was what it was coming to, even if the Americans did step in. He felt close to exhaustion, and flicking a quick gaze over at Murakumo who was looking around at the streets teeming with parasitic Tengugaki but devoid of all human life, he knew that the Aragami lord was just as exhausted.

And yet, there was something about Murakumo’s demeanor that struck Kusanagi. It seemed as if he was waiting for something.

Watching and waiting.

It had been that way for some time now. At first Kusanagi thought that Murakumo was searching for a way to get past Tamanasu’s defenses so that he could destroy the Tengugaki’s mitama. But Tamanasu assiduously guarded it no matter how many times they had sought to attack his one vulnerability. Then when Tamanasu had retreated to the haven of Akumakai’s protective cocoon, Kusanagi thought that perhaps Murakumo was looking for another way to breach the Arch Daemon’s barrier. But that wasn’t it either.

Murakumo’s attention was focused neither on Tamanasu nor Akumakai. So what the hell was he waiting on? Kusanagi wondered irascibly. And then he knew. Even before he saw the quicksilver flash of awareness flit across Murakumo’s face, Kusanagi had felt it and he turned, his heart freezing in his chest as Momiji’s pure energy flowed around him. He looked across the expanse of Susano-oh Park towards the office buildings and his eyes found her immediately.

No! It couldn’t be!

He remained hanging motionless in the air, hoping that he was hallucinating, unwilling to believe what his senses were telling him. There’s no way she could be here!!

But he knew it was real when he heard Murakumo’s soft and approving, "Bravo, Kushinada."

Gasping for breath, Momiji paused at the door leading to the roof of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and shined her flashlight back down the stairs, looking for Mr. Futeki. He was half a flight down below her, doubled over and huffing as he trudged slowly upwards.

He irritably glanced up when the beam of light hit him, the light glinting off the ring in his nose, "Shine that damn thing somewhere else!" he grunted crankily, "It’s not like I’d suddenly disappear on you –" he mumbled sourly, still huffing, and then added, "hell, all you have to do is listen for my wheezing to know where I’m at!"

Momiji ignored his surly remarks and shifted the light so that it was shining straight down at the ground. ‘You shouldn’t have come all this way," she told him dampeningly, still distressed that he’d refused to let her do the rest of this by herself. "If the Tengugaki manage to make it all the way up here before I finish my ceremony, then you’ll be trapped with no way to escape."

"Well, that’s exactly why I did come, sister," he huffed, bending over and putting his hands on his knees as he finally made it to the landing where she was. "How were you planning on finishing your ceremony if they do catch up?" he inquired, and when she made no reply added, "with your little bag of tricks," he pointed to the bag slung over her shoulder, "if they do come, I should be able to at least buy enough time so you can finish it."

"Yes, but what if – what if my plan doesn’t work?" she asked diffidently, some of her fears starting to take firm root in her mind now that they were here. "What if I try this and it doesn’t stop them!? You’ll be trapped up here, with no one to save you!"

Mr. Futeki shrugged and took the flashlight from her. "If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. Me being up here or down on the streets isn’t gonna make a whole buncha difference, sister. You’re the only chance we have, that’s all there is to it," he grabbed her by the shoulder then, his fingers tightening briefly before he said succinctly,, shaking her for emphasis with every word, "so - don’t – screw – it – up!"

Momiji nodded and with a deep breath, turned and opened the door. Outside, she was a little surprised to see that the sky was beginning to turn to grey: a sign that dawn was approaching. Shedding her weapons and her coat so that she was dressed only in her ceremonial robes, she slowly made her way past the rows of satellite dishes littering the roof, her eyes turned towards Susano-oh park which the Government Building faced. Her fingers went up curling around the ceramics that hung from her neck as she surveyed Akumakai before her gaze found the tiny specks hovering a cautious distance away from him.

"Kusanagi," she murmured, her fingers clenching tightly around the bag. Swiveling away from the view, she looked back over her shoulder at Mr. Futeki who stood to the right of the roof entrance, several of the firearms that she had placed in her duffel bag, now slung across his chest, with a small pouch of grenades belted around his waist.

He looked ready, she mused, but was she?

Closing her eyes, she tried to quiet the clamoring of her heart, and as the beats slowed, she heard Susano-oh’s voice.

"Remember well, Momiji Kushinada," his voice whispered, "It is your power that will save us all." Momiji opened her eyes and looked around, unsure if she was just recalling what he’d told her, or if he was truly there. She could not see him, and yet, his voice came to her again, louder this time, and she knew that he was there beside her, "You can make Them understand. You can help Them see the future. Just believe in yourself, and it will happen."

"Believe," she murmured, her eyes crossing the distance to find the small figure of her husband. "Let me keep you safe, Kusanagi," she whispered.

The sky was getting lighter with every passing minute now, and a small breeze stirred the tendrils of hair above her eyes. Still holding the ceramics, she finally made to lift them over her head, knowing as she did so, she was removing the only barrier she had left. Once it was gone, there was no going back – but really, she silently conceded, once she’d left the TAC building, she’d known there was no going back.

Clasping the bag in her hand, she held it at arms length, hesitating a moment before she finally let it go. The second it left her fingers she felt a great pulse rush through her body; a secondary awareness that had been hindered before, and a hard chill shot up her spine. He senses me, she thought, eyeing the twisted mass of Akumakai, not only he but Tamanasu as well, she realized, seeing the Tengugaki’s limp form suspended in front of Akumakai’s body. And then a more familiar energy flooded towards her and she could feel the sense of urgency in it. Her eyes again sought out Kusanagi, and even from this distance, she could tell he had started to move towards her.

The last person her eyes found was Murakumo, and even though she knew there was no way he could hear her, she softly pleaded, "Please! Don’t forget your promise to me."

Momiji reached down and pulled out the tantou that had remained tucked snugly at her waist on her long journey here, her mind focusing solely on the gold and bronze chokin images that gleamed dully in the gray morning light. She held it aloft, the tip pointed towards the heavens as she prepared to unsheathe it, a vortex of dark emotions swirling deep inside her.

Susano-oh’s words to her at the Pool of Restoration from what seemed like many lifetimes ago. Were her actions tantamount to throwing her life away? It was up to her to make the Souls of the Blade understand, and break the links that forged the chain to the past.

"Free their souls, Momiji," she heard Susano-oh speak from within her, his presence as a flickering candle flame buffeted by the winds of her fear, "let your heart free them from the torment of the past so you can fight for your future."

Momiji nodded in understanding, but she could still feel the fear and helplessness twisting inside her. She was so afraid that it wouldn’t work, afraid that once she pulled the blade free, she wouldn’t be unable to change anything, that the Souls would indeed sacrifice her. But as her eyes flickered towards Susano-oh Park, other feelings began to rise.

Didn’t she want to protect those that she loved? To help those too weak to defend themselves? She had to have faith. She had to believe. Help me save them, she silently begged, gazing at the dagger, the chokin images beginning to glow as the first rays of sunlight peaked across the city.

"Please forgive me for not having properly purified myself," she murmured as her fingers tightened around the handle, "but there was not time… I hope you understand," she apologized, raising her other hand, finally prepared to pull away the scabbard, "-or at least, I hope you will understand."

Faith, she silently repeated over and over as the blade was unleashed, please hear me and know…

Once the blade was bare, the shockwave was immediate, and the voices began clamoring inside her head. She tried not to be afraid as she listened to them, instead, she continued to silently plead for their help as the knife in her hand grew hot and the voices in her head grew louder.

"Momiji!" Kusanagi cried when he realized that she was perched atop the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, "Dammit!"

He started forward but didn’t make it very far before he felt arms slip beneath his armpits from the back, circling around his shoulders and back again behind his neck to hold him in a tight grip.

"What the!?" he cried as he turned his head left and right, trying to get a clear view of Murakumo as his fury began to rise. "What the hell do you think you’re doing!?"

"I’m keeping my promise," Murakumo replied in a low voice, tightening his arms more as Kusanagi began to struggle even harder to get free.

"Promise!?" Kusanagi spat scornfully, "What promise is that!? The promise to betray me and the humans!?"

"No," Murakumo said coldly, "The promise I made to the Kushinada to keep you from interfering."

The shock of his words took all the fight out of Kusanagi for a moment and his eyes trailed back to the figure in white perched like a fragile bird atop the building, his heart wrenching in his chest.

"Why would she?..." he mumbled hollowly.

"Because she knows what a fool you are, Kusanagi," Murakumo told him silkily. "She knows that you would try to stop her from doing this, even though she is the only one of us all that might have a chance to win."

Their exchange was interrupted by taunting laughter. It floated towards them, and together they turned to look at Tamanasu who was watching them from within Akumakai’s barrier, still occupied with recharging his energy, but strong enough to be cognizant of what was happening.

"How obliging of your Kushinada," he drawled in amusement, "to bring herself out here so I don’t have to go looking for her." Kusanagi’s eyes narrowed but he remained silent, unwilling to respond to Tamanasu’s taunts. "I had thought to kill you and the Aragami scum lord first, but I think it will be much more amusing to kill her first, don’t you think? –"

Tamanasu finally struck a nerve.

Kusanagi would die before he let him touch Momiji! He opened his mouth to say as much, but instead turned his head sharply as a bright light exploded from the direction of the Government Building. There was Momiji, standing amid an ethereal light, her hair streaming out in all directions as if moved by a great wind, even though the air was still. In her hand a brightly illuminated dagger was held poised out in front of her, and Kusanagi gaped at the spectacle in utter stupefaction.

Tamanasu too had seen the light and his earlier amusement was gone, replaced by a malignant intensity as he narrowly studied the scene. Then suddenly Kusanagi heard voices, a multitude of them, all coming from Momiji, and a horrible foreboding gripped him as words he could not understand echoed around him, becoming louder and stronger with every passing second.

Murakumo drew in his breath at the words, and somehow, Kusanagi knew Murakumo understood them.

"What’s happening!?" He demanded in confusion, again trying to break free from Murakumo’s grip.

"It’s the Ceremony of Sacrifice," Murakumo told him softly, "words that I haven’t heard in thousands of years…"

"What is she saying!?" Kusanagi asked, his struggles becoming more and more pronounced.

"Breath return to Wind," Murakumo began to translate and then stopped and harshly ordered, "stop struggling, Kusanagi! I can’t let you go after her! Your time to protect her is over!"

"Idiot!" Kusanagi screamed at him, his voice and movements wild now, "I know that! I’m not trying to protect her! But if she’s going to die, then I will die with her! So LET ME GO, DAMMIT!!"

"I can’t," Murakumo hissed through gritted teeth. "I promised her I would protect you, you fool!"

Murakumo yanked hard against Kusanagi’s shoulders, trying to subdue him, but they both stopped struggling against each other when Tamanasu suddenly burst free form Akumakai and headed purposefully towards Momiji.

Finally, Murakumo let go of Kusanagi and he immediately took off in Momiji’s direction, intent on catching Tamanasu before he reached Momiji. With a loud curse, Murakumo followed, knowing that if Tamanasu reached her before she finished her ceremony, that all was lost.

Use my eyes… please see them, Momiji struggled to hang onto her thoughts as she felt control of her body slipping away.

Her pleas continued silently as she focused with difficulty on Kusanagi and Murakumo before the Souls overtook her and her eyes returned without her volition back to the blade in front of her. Feeling helpless, the voices began to rise in her throat, and her struggle to make the Souls understand was not enough to keep the sounds from spilling from her lips.

"Hitoande kaeru dota Anjin," Momiji heard herself say, "Ikutian alo sasaryu dego alo Athamos."

Just like at the iwatto, her left hand rose and brushed her middle fingers against her lips before moving outwards in a sweeping gesture towards the horizon; and as she moved, she was astonished to hear another voice rising directly behind her, translating her words with serene clarity so that Momiji might understand and she was left to wonder if this meant that the Souls understood her thoughts.

"Breath return to Wind," the woman’s mellifluous voice intoned, "Following the whispers of the Gods."

Momiji’s fingers moved to encircle the glowing blade of the Tantou, the calm intonation of those speaking through her unaltered by the pain she felt as she sliced the flesh of her hand. "Desunde kaeru dota Samai," she breathed as the blood began to trickle down her wrist, "Tionan sankaigiran endota alo hitora dego Ichija."

"Blood return to Sand, falling unrestrained into the flow of Time" the woman translated, her voice right next to Momiji’s ear now, as if she was leaning forward to whisper it to her.

"Ta Sonandiendo dego miesunde,.. Dota besuke pa alo Esuande dego Deisora unbei Maisora," These last words had not been spoken at the iwatto, but as before, Momiji’s eyes shifted towards the blood trailing down her arm, listening as the unseen woman behind her again translated.

"A Sacrifice of Flesh -" the woman began, and Momiji watched, as the ephemeral outline of the woman’s arms came up, merging with her own, a strange vibrating sensation buzzing through her as ghostly fingers joined with hers, wrapping themselves securely around the blade. "-- to call upon the Souls of the Earth and Sky." With these words, Momiji’s head turned, the approaching figures of Tamanasu, Kusanagi and Murakumo reflected in the depths of her eyes as the knife was quickly pulled towards her body.

It was over in a matter of seconds, her breath suspended as white-hot pain tore through her chest where the blade penetrated. For a moment, darkness tinged the edges of her awareness, and she was surprised to see the back of the woman dressed in a white tunic as she passed through Momiji. Her form was translucent, and she shimmered with an unearthly light, little golden spheres bobbing around her; her limbs graceful and slender, with long, black, flowing hair and great, feathered, iridescent wings adorning her back.

B-beautiful… Momiji thought as she struggled to keep her thoughts coherent, continuing to gaze at the apparition. The drifting spheres seemed drawn to her essence and as they touched her, they were absorbed into her shimmering aura causing the lines of her body to become less and less transparent, save for her arms, which were still merged with Momiji’s.

Momiji could feel her body begin to sway, and, the voices that had been cacophonous and uncontrollable before fell eerily silent, bringing stillness to Momiji’s lips so that Kusanagi’s tortured scream rang loudly in her ears.

For the first time since the Ceremony began, Momiji was able to look down. She stared at the dagger, numbly pondering the trickle of not blood but golden-white light that escaped from around the edges of the embedded blade. It was warm against her hands and it moved away from her body, bobbing and weaving, forming thin graceful lines in the air around her like the orbs had that day from the iwatto before they had bombarded her, and disappeared into her skin. Now they flowed from her into the dark haired woman and as the flow became thicker and brighter, Momiji began to feel strange, as if her body was becoming too heavy for her soul.

Soon, the woman’s arms were the only thing keeping Momiji’s body standing and when she tightened her hands against the blade and pulled it free from Momiji’s flesh, Momiji felt a twisting sensation and watched in shock as her own body sank slowly to the ground. All of the pain from before was completely gone, replaced by a feeling of buoyant strength.

Am I dead? She wondered; but no, she could breathe, she could feel, although it wasn’t solely a voluntary action. It was as if she had merged with other souls, as if she had become part of another consciousness – a part of – the winged woman!? Was that possible!?

Reeling in confusion, Momiji felt a voice rising from her new body, the body of the winged woman which now stood firmly upon the ground, the Souls of the past Kushinada now solidified into the flesh and blood of this one entity. And as the last words of the Ceremony of Sacrifice rang out, they became Momiji’s words, her heart and mind now at one with the Souls of the Blade.

"Ajunae alo aramote dego alo roanin tetsuna; Dota jonki alo Taiende ubei ouenna vasa alo Saiumi – Restore the power of the broken blade, to free the Light and seal away the Darkness!"

With the blade held in her right hand, the Kushinada turned, her eyes locking onto Tamanasu who was fast bearing down upon her, fangs bared in a grotesque snarl and his body coiled for a deadly strike. Their was neither fear nor anger upon her countenance as the Kushinada raised her left hand, her palm facing Tamanasu and as he reached the ledge of the building the aura surrounding her seemed to intensify, becoming bright gold. His claws were raised to strike, Kusanagi and Murakumo only a hairsbreadth distance behind him but still too far to keep him from attacking.

Tamanasu was so close to her that he could see the gash in her hand a reflection of the one that Momiji had made when she had grabbed the naked tantou blade to perform the first rite in the Ceremony of Sacrifice.

This was Tamanasu’s last thought for the light suddenly shot outward from the wound with incredible swiftness, piercing the mitama in the middle of his forehead before it expanded, enveloping his whole body. The cold darkness of corrupted souls poured from his disintegrating body, the sound of their torment rising in the familiar sounding death shriek. But as they passed through the light coming from the Kushinada, the sound began to fade, and their darkness dwindled into swirling light that glowed with warmth and surged upwards in a spiraling pillar until it disappeared.

Shocked, Kusanagi checked his speed with a sudden wariness and behind him, Murakumo did the same. The woman’s expression hadn’t altered in the slightest during her attack on Tamanasu and as she turned her dark eyes in their direction, her countenance remained unchanging, smooth and blank as stone. Despite her lack of emotion, it seemed like she was waiting for something.

"You!" Kusanagi blared furiously with a dark scowl. She had directed the blade towards Momiji’s chest – she could be as much their enemy as Akumakai was. "Who are you!?"

"Kusanagi."

The words sifted softly through his thoughts and Kusanagi grew still, his anger dying away.

"M-momiji?" he breathed unsteadily, first looking at the still heap of her body behind the woman with iridescent wings, and when he realized that her voice couldn’t have possibly come from there, he looked wildly around.

Her words faded away and a hard lump rose in Kusanagi’s throat.

"Momiji!" Kusanagi cried, the raw emotion of his voice drowned out by the sound of groaning steel and concrete as the long vine-like tendrils were uprooted and sent moving rapidly in their direction. Akumakai shifted his attention, having perceived a new and much more dangerous enemy in the form of the winged woman after the rapid demise of Tamanasu.

Murakumo looked sharply back at Akumakai and then shot Kusanagi a warning look. But before he could say anything, the woman on the ledge who still held the dagger claimed their attention by speaking once again.

"Brothers of the Ancient Blade," she addressed forcefully, "forge anew your Destiny!" She aimed the Ceremonial Blade in their direction and it began to glow bright blue, wisps of paler, translucent blue unfolding from it in rapid spiraling twists and turns. Kusanagi watched it, and alarmingly found himself unable to move.

"Where Earth and Sky unite, the Eternal Dragon shall awaken!" the winged woman proclaimed, and a loud roaring filled Kusanagi’s ears, swallowing up her words, the blood inside his veins beginning to burn.

The Kushinada stood, arm extended, watching the ribbons of blue color finally reach their targets. As they wrapped themselves around Murakumo and Kusanagi, a strange transformation commenced. Their bodies atomized, breaking apart until nothing remained but small particles of color that buzzed with agitated motion.

The wispy blue ribbons broke away then, rapidly returning to the blade, and the Kushinada stood waiting and watching as what remained of the two men merged, becoming one dark mass.

Inside it, a heartbeat was born. It pulsed a bright blue as the dark mass coiled and swirled, the head of a blue-green dragon, the Eternal Dragon, slowly emerging with a loud roar before subsiding back into its shapeless form. Moving purposefully, the bubbling darkness charged towards the winged woman, the dragon’s head once again briefly emerging with a formidable roar. The Kushinada waited for it with her small blade extended and as the amorphous cloud forcefully struck it, it resonated with sound.

The tantou’s light was momentarily doused as the dark cloud swarmed, obscuring the blade and most of the Kushinada’s arm, but it didn’t last long. The Blade of Sacrifice began to absorb the darkness, uniting with the Eternal Dragon to become a flickering blue flame that grew and elongated until it resembled a blazing naginata staff. Firmly holding the pole of the long, curved blade, the Kushinada lifted it over her head, the blade whirling in graceful circles as she swung it, the blue flames arcing out, leaving a luminous trail. The Kushinada continued to swing the Eternal Dragon Staff over her head before letting it sweep to her left and right sides, getting used to its weight while she kept a watchful eye on Akumakai, patiently waiting for the deadly tendrils that lay just beyond her sight, preparing to strike.

They came quickly; a barrage of them from every direction, and with one deadly sweep, the Kushinada obliterated them all, sending out an arc of light that crashed against neighboring buildings with a loud boom. Not waiting for a second attack, the Kushinada gripped the naginata with both hands and spread her wings, moving with determination towards the barrier that surrounded Akumakai. Again, she raised the staff above her head, letting it spin in graceful circles as she closed in on Akumakai, bringing it down only when she needed to counter the vines that the Arch Daemon was manipulating to try and strike her down.

Finally, she slowed, her iridescent wings making a soft rhythmic noise as they beat against the air and she let the Naginata come to a rest by her side. Her passionless eyes probed the twisted mass of undulating vines and trunk while Akumakai scrutinized her and her staff, his dark eyes glinting with malevolence.

"We have no fear of you, Kushinada," Akumakai sneered dismissively. "Your power to defeat us was nullified when we consumed the energy of the hybrid child –"

A small sound of derision escaped the Kushinada’s lips, although her mask of calm never flickered. Again, she raised the naginata, and with both hands sent it spinning in a fast circle above her head.

Wings beating rapidly now, she braced her legs apart and with a hard slashing motion brought the naginata down, crying, "Eternal Dragon of Earth and Sky, come forth!"

As the blade sliced downward, the blue-green head of the flame dragon emerged with a loud roar, his body with broad wings and long tail pushing their way past the narrow confines of the naginata to unfold as an enormous, intimidating power. He was truly a sight to behold; all blue-green flame with red-gold eyes which regarded the Kushinada with a caged wildness, waiting for her command. The Kushinada glanced up into the dragon’s eyes, feeling for the twined souls of Murakumo and Kusanagi. With a small nod, she turned, her gaze flickering over the now wary Akumakai.

With the snap of her wrist, she inclined the naginata forward, signaling the dragon to go. Rearing back his head, he gave a loud, shuddering growl, his wings stirring the wind so powerfully that it rattled the glass windows of the nearby buildings. The Kushinada pulled back, content to watch from a distance as the flaming dragon lunged, breaking through Akumakai’s energy barrier without pause.

Akumakai’s face sagged in shock and he quickly brought his arms up, cupping his hands together to harness the precious energy he had been collecting from the humans. It gathered between his palms as a dark sphere, jagged bolts of black energy emanating from the core. Without delay, he fired it towards the dragon and watched, incredulous as the dragon opened and closed his mouth, the sphere disappearing inside.

Even before his mouth was all the way closed, the dragon was countering, whipping his tail around, striking at the heart of where the leeching vines joined with Akumakai’s trunk, trying to sever the Arch Daemon’s energy supply. But Akumakai had already discerned his intent, and he fired a volley of short energy bursts that served as a shield, buffeting the lethal tail’s power so that it became nothing more than a glancing blow.

Unperturbed, the Eternal Dragon swung about. Stretching out his neck, he let his wings carry him high above the city and Akumakai’s twisted torso. Then he turned and looked back down. Tucking in his wings, he dove straight down at his target. The wind screamed past him, whipping the flames of his body back, creating a fiery blue trail through the sky. His red gold eyes narrowed as he drew closer and closer, waiting for the right moment to launch the darkened Soul energy he’d caught within his jaws.

Craning his neck, Akumakai followed the progress of the blue-green flame plummeting towards him and his lips curled.

"He thinks to ram us? Let him come! We will pull him in as the sea pulls the sand." He hissed scornfully.

Akumakai rerouted a good many of his vines from the ground and the buildings, making them rear like giant snakes around his body. They twined together and formed a writhing wall, more solid than even his energy barrier had been. He laughed softly as the dragon approached, anticipating the collision, thinking to catch the dragon and siphon its flaming energy.

But the dragon did not strike him. Instead, right before the moment of impact, the Eternal Dragon’s wings’ unfurled, cutting short his descent. Before Akumakai clearly understood what was happening, a bright light began to gleam just outside his vine barrier. Searching, his eyes quickly discovered its source and widened in alarm when he saw the dark soul sphere, his sphere, within the Eternal Dragon’s mouth.

The souls were being released, the blackness evanescing as light overcame dark and a new sphere of dazzling incandescence coalesced in front of the dragon’s head. Its brilliance was buoyant and pulsating, small flashes glittering within it as it continued to grow, expanding until it was three times larger than Akumakai’s sphere of corruption, which had now completely dissipated.

Satisfied, the Eternal Dragon closed his mouth, his red-gold eyes gleaming triumphantly as he gave his wings one hard pump for extra lift. Whipping his tail around, he hit the sphere and it went smashing into the writing wall, pulverizing it on contact. Akumakai’s body twitched in pain, a nasty gurgling sound rising in the air. As the vines disintegrated, the suffering souls flowing through their marrow was lifted and absorbed into the center of the brightly glowing globe where they were purified, and added to it mass. In just a span of a few short milliseconds, the sphere had again grown, becoming larger than even the Eternal Dragon. However, its size didn’t slow its velocity. If anything, it moved faster and seemingly with a will of its own. It headed straight for Akumakai, swerving with unbelievable agility as the Arch Daemon swiped at it with his four arms, hurtling without pause until it hit him square in the chest.

Akumakai’s head was snapped back at the force of the blow and he roared in pain, scrabbling to push away the light, but it was no use. It began eating away at his flesh upon impact, pulling away the lost and damned souls he’d used to construct his body. The buildings shuddered at the sound of his pain as his flesh was consumed, disappearing beneath the expanding brightness of intensely swirling light. Soon all visible signs of him were gone, swallowed by the sphere. All that remained of his existence was his loud, screeching cry; but that too, soon faded, dimming until the chiming hum of the sphere was the only sound reverberating through the air.

The Eternal Dragon beat his wings, rising into the air to hover above the light, his red-gold eyes solemnly studying it. Then he lifted his head and a forlorn keening filled the heavens as he gave vent to his sorrow. He returned his gaze back to the sphere with the sad sound echoing around him and was surprised by a soft touch against the slope of his long neck.

It was the Kushinada.

With the naginata still in hand, she too was gazing down at the orb of light which remained motionless despite the whorls of energetic light swirling and sparkling inside it.

"You sense her, don’t you?" the Kushinada whispered softly, lifting her dark eyes to the flame visage of the Eternal Dragon.

In response, his red-gold eyes flickered back to the light, a murmur of sound similar to a whimper escaping his throat. The Kushinada let her hand rest comfortingly against him for a moment longer and then with a pat, she moved away, letting her iridescent wings carry her to where the orb hovered. Gracefully, she lit upon the ruptured ground below it where Akumakai’s body had once been, gazing up as she slowly drifted to stand beneath it.

The resonant hum coming from it vibrated her very bones, almost covering the faint cry of inquiry from the Eternal Dragon. Resting the staff of the naginata against the ragged earth, she searched the vortex of energy, her eyes looking for visible traces of what the Dragon had felt.

"You hear him too, don’t you, little one?" she said as she gazed upwards, "Your father cries for you. Won’t you come to me so that I might help him?"

She raised her arm upwards in a gesture of supplication and waited hopefully. She was rewarded as her eyes caught sight of a small flicker of blue.

"That’s it," she said encouragingly with a beckoning gesture.

The Eternal Dragon again called to the Kushinada, his wings carrying him in a restless circle above the energy sphere as he gazed down. Finally, he saw her white-clad figure calmly emerge from beneath the light. Then she turned and with one hand lifted her naginata, pointing the curved blade in the sphere’s direction. The dragon’s circling stopped as he watched a bolt of blue lightning emerge from its tip and tap into the sphere, slowly absorbing it, shrinking it until, at last, nothing remained but the view of the Kushinada standing amid the cracked asphalt and jagged chunks of earth.

The naginata glowed brightly now, little orbs of light bobbing around it, overflowing from the blade, but the Kushinada didn’t seem to notice as she stretched out her iridescent wings and again took flight, moving purposefully towards the blue-green flame in the sky. As she reached him, she motioned for him to follow her with her naginata and together they made their way back to the top of the Metropolitan Government Office Building where Momiji’s body still lay.

As soon as her feet touched down, she turned and watched the dragon alight next to her, holding out her free hand to him which, until now had been carefully balled into a fist. Turning her palm upwards, she slowly opened her fingers to reveal a small blue flame flickering faintly and uncertainly.

The dragon’s head bobbed intently forward to within inches of her hand and he opened his mouth, the same, soft mewling sound emerging as his red-gold eyes alternated from watching the little flame to gazing into the eyes of the Kushinada.

"For you," she offered, further stretching her hand in his direction, "your daughter." Her eyes were kind as she added liltingly, "I sense she has much of her mother’s gentleness about her as well as her strong will." As she spoke, she turned her hand, tipping it towards the Eternal Dragon and the little flame exploded with a flash of brightness and then disappeared.

Alarmed, the Eternal Dragon quickly looked around for a sign of it, until he felt a warm glow rush through his veins, moving towards the center of his body.

"Guard her well within your heart, Keeper of the Sky, until it is time for her to reawaken."

With her now empty hand, she once again smoothed her palm along his neck and he gratefully bowed his head towards her, an intimate moment stretching between them before she leaned away from him, moving towards Momiji’s still figure.

"Guardian of the Earth," she said over her shoulder, addressing the other nature of the Eternal Dragon as she came to a stop and leaned upon the naginata’s staff for balance while she kneeled beside Momiji. "Your worry for the one you love is unfounded. She has been with me the entire time, guiding me, sharing with me the warm emotions she has for you." Her eyes gazed steadily at the Dragon for a moment longer before she turned and looked at Momiji’s pale and flaccid countenance.

"She is unlike many of those who have come before her – she is truly a princess…" as her words trailed away, her face registered expression for the first time. Eyes softening, her lips curved into a gentle, approving smile. "Well done, Momiji Kushinada," she cried softly, letting her fingers rest lightly upon Momiji’s lips. "Because of you, the Souls of the Blade have at last found peace. We are now free to rest, along with those that have suffered the torment of Akumakai."

As she finished speaking, a high-pitched humming filled the air, and the naginata and the Kushinada began to emanate an incredibly bright aura. Their task complete, the souls that comprised them began to disperse, little orbs spinning off and floating away, some softly bathing Momiji with their light, while others dissipated in the distance. The Eternal Dragon too began to blur, becoming a mass of swirling energy that struggled to separate and reshape itself.

As the last vestiges of the image of the Kushinada faded away, the two inert forms of Kusanagi and Murakumo solidified in the place the Eternal Dragon had last stood and for a moment, nothing moved.

But then, the wind picked up, and Momiji began to stir, suddenly conscious of the feel of it against her skin.

Slowly she opened her eyes, and seeing a fuzzy face hovering above her own, she struggled to bring it into focus.

"Susano-oh?" she mumbled querulously, blearily noting the serene smile on the face. But no, she thought. As her vision sharpened, the godlike image faded. "Mr. Futeki," she croaked thickly. Funny how the eyes could play tricks on you. Mr. Futeki looked nothing liked Susano-oh…

"Amazing – you actually survived all that," he responded.

His voice sounded hollow and far away in her ears at first, but became more real and solid as he continued.

"I have to tell you that you’ve gone and spoiled the rest of my life with your kick-ass heroics, missy," he grumbled. "Nothing’s ever gonna measure up to what I just witnessed. Sorta’ makes a man want to cry," he remarked, although he sounded far too grumpy to actually shed any tears.

Momiji stared owlishly at the biker, her brain slow to react to his gruff banter.

"Did we - ? get them all?..." she asked in a numb and disjointed way as Mr. Futeki helped her to sit up.

"I think so,’ Mr. Futeki said. "Those wandering the streets sorta’ just melted after you, er, nuked the big one."

While she listened, Momiji put her hands to her temples as she tried to wade through his words, groping for what it all meant. Slowly she turned her head, still feeling fuzzy.

"Kusanagi," she murmured, her eyes focusing on her husband. Grimly, she struggled to rise to her feet, and almost fell flat on her face from weakness.

"Whoa, missy," Mr. Futeki warned, grabbing hold of her by both arms. "Let me help you."

Carefully he hoisted her up on unsteady legs and put his arm around her waist. Together they staggered slowly towards Kusanagi and Murakumo who was just beginning to stir. As Momiji sank to her knees between them, Murakumo opened his grey eyes and sat up, exhibiting strength that Momiji would have thought impossible, given the battle that he’d just fought. Momiji noted that his hand went to his chest and he lightly rubbed it, as if he felt a lingering warmth, and she smiled faintly.

With dawning realization, Murakumo’s eyes slid to Momiji’s pallid cheeks. He felt sure it had been Momiji, acting through the Kushinada, who had held his unborn daughter in her hands. She was the one who had decided to go after her. She was also the one who had recognized Midori’s traits; something that the Souls of the Blade alone could never have done. It was because of Momiji, he reasoned with humbling clarity, that his daughter had been saved. Gratitude welled up inside him and he didn’t know what to do with it. He opened his mouth, but for once, he could find no aristocratic words to fall back on.

Fortunately, he was saved the effort by Kusanagi who had finally regained his senses.

"Momiji," he breathed in a breaking voice as soon as his eyelids lifted and he saw her.

Momiji’s attention was immediately diverted to her husband as he sat up and reached for his wife, crushing her in his arms, his body shaking with emotion.

"You did it," he declared, his eyes squeezed shut, awe and relief mingling in his voice. "My god, - I can’t believe it’s actually over!" His voice was shaking almost as much as his body.

"It is over," Momiji agreed tearfully, muffled, her face pressed against his bare chest, holding onto him as if she never wanted to let go. "We won!"

From a distance, Mr. Kunikida’s echoing voice could be heard addressing them through a bullhorn, but it seemed that at the moment, no one on top of the roof was paying heed.

Certainly not Momiji and Kusanagi. They were in their own little world, Murakumo discerned. He watched the reunited couple taking refuge in each other’s embrace. The biker, too, was busy hovering uncomfortably in the background, possibly wishing that he was in his own little world, one that perhaps didn’t include the government, flying Aragami, and a mushy human couple. And he – here Murakumo’s thoughts hesitated, as a restless energy gripped him. Well he had somewhere else he wanted to be as well.

With one last glace at Kusanagi, Momiji and the biker, he stepped towards the ledge of the building. Then without a word of farewell, he pushed off to surge through the air, his mind focused on one thing:

Midori.

That’s where he wanted to be; with her and his son.

He would have to wait until the Self-Defense Force brought Noa back to him, but he could still see Midori. Glancing at the morning sun that was midway to its highest point in the sky, he wondered if Midori had regained consciousness yet. He put his hand to his chest, touching the mitamas that harbored their unborn daughter.

It was important that she know about Momiji’s gift, he thought suddenly – but only that he’d been given charge of her spirit. Since she could never bear another child, he would keep the Kushinada’s words about the child’s reawakening locked away. For as much as he wished for the innocence flowing through his veins to see the sun through her own eyes, he would not abandon Midori for another to accomplish that. Perhaps it was selfishness on his part that contributed to his decision, but, he reasoned vehemently, it was their child: his and Midori’s; and unborn or not, he would have it remain that way.

Having arrived at that decision, he had every confidence that despite the horror of what had happened to her, in time Midori would be able to find peace in knowing that the baby was alive within him; and as for him – as long as Midori was by his side, he could find peace in that decision as well.

Finally arriving at the TAC building, Murakumo made his way inside, listening with half an ear to excited conversations about disintegrating Tengugaki and as he strode past, he ignored the frantic TAC officers and Self-Defense Force member who asked him to confirm the speculation that disappearing Tengugaki were a result of Akumakai’s defeat. Several went even so far as to put themselves directly in his path, but he just glared coldly at them without pause, moving impatiently around them, too intent on reaching Midori.

Where had all these infernal humans come from? he thought irritably as he gained the fourth floor. They certainly hadn’t been here earlier before he’d left. But now they were everywhere!

They were even rushing back and forth in the hallway outside Midori’s door, waving papers at each other, talking on transceiver radios and generating an incredible amount of noise to which Murakumo found himself reacting by fighting the desire to fire a paralyzing energy bolt just to shut them up; especially after he entered Midori’s room and spied her lying on her side watching the turmoil, her face pale and apprehensive. When she saw him, the expression on her face didn’t change much, but the hand resting on the pillow next to her face, clutched the white fabric convulsively.

"Oh, thank goodness! You’re all right!" she breathed in thready relief as she weakly struggled to sit up while he quietly closed the door behind him. "I-is it over? Are Momiji and Kusanagi and the rest of the TAC all right?" she asked anxiously, "Everyone outside in the hall seems to think that we’ve beaten them, but no one knew for certain…" her words trailed off as a wave of dizziness caused by her sudden movements engulfed her, and her wobbly arms gave out.

She slid into a slump against the mattress but didn’t remain there long. A gentle pair of hands clasped her around the shoulders and lifted her until she was sitting propped up against a stack of pillows, the blanket securely tucked around her waist. While he tucked the blanket around her, she apprehensively her eyed him. His clothes were tattered, bloody and filthy, his face scratched and grimy as well, and he looked exhausted. But his voice, when he finally spoke was soft and even and reassuring.

"The enemy has been defeated and everyone is safe," he confirmed and watched as her face relaxed in relief.

"Thank goodness," she breathed, clasping her hands together against the white, nondescript hospital gown draped across her breasts, "I was so afraid that after Tamanasu –" the heaviness that had been centered in her chest since she’d woken up rose and choked off her words. She struggled to overcome it, unconsciously clenching her fingers tightly together, making her knuckles turn white. "I was afraid he couldn’t be stopped after what happened…" Trailing off, her fingers crept towards her face, wanting to hide the fact that her thin composure was about to crumble.

Murakumo leaned forward in the chair that he’d taken next to the bed and grabbed her hands, his fingers strong and warm. "The Kushinada returned to me what Tamanasu took form you, Midori, and now he is dead. Our child is forever safe from him," he informed her, squeezing her fingers.

Midori gave him a wide-eyed look.

"W-what? I don’t understand -" she said tremulously, and listened overwhelmed as Murakumo relayed to her what had happened during the final battle with Tamanasu and Akumakai.

"She will always be with us; you Noa and I," Murakumo said gently, a soft light in his grey eyes as he smoothed back the characteristic errant strands of hair that trembled against Midori’s cheek.

Their baby had been spared! Midori closed her eyes on the grateful tears she could feel gathering and swallowed hard.

"Thank you," she whispered, "thank you for telling me –" her words petered as Murakumo’s lips moved lightly against hers.

"And now," he murmured after a few moments, "I would like to hear what it is you have to say to me."

The atmosphere around them was suddenly charged with tension.

"I’m not sure I know what you mean," Midori said warily, nervously pleating the folds of the blankets with her fingers.

Murakumo’s eyes narrowed, a hint of accusation in his tone as he said, "The message you left with the Kushinada – it’s unacceptable!" He was practically glaring at her now, and Midori felt her insides begin to congeal until he leaned forward and grasped her chin, his grey eyes searching as he added softly, "if you wish to say something, then say it directly to me!"

So compelling was his gaze that she couldn’t look away, and with a jolt of surprise, she heard herself blurt out, "I love you… but I was afraid to tell you because I was so happy that you’d said you wanted to stay with me… and… I thought… that if you knew… because I know you think that feelings are for the weak – that you might leave –" Her words dwindled away. He’d increased the pressure of his hold on her chin and she suddenly realized that she’d been foolish to think that way.

"There is only one place I wish to be, and that is wherever you are, Midori Fujisawa. You are my peace." He stared at her for a long moment. It seemed almost if he could hear the furious pounding of her heart and he was giving her a moment to try and calm its painfully euphoric tattoo.

With chilled fingers, she tentatively touched the warm ones still clasping her chin, her dark eyes brightening with an elation that remained undimmed even as a faint slash of color stained Murakumo’s cheekbones beneath their layer dirt and he pulled his fingers free. Awkwardly he rose to his feet and turned his back to her to gaze out the window. Before today, she might have interpreted his actions as a withdrawal from her, but now she understood: it was a sign of his vulnerability –to her - and oddly enough, she found his actions comforting.

Drawing back the curtain in a pose of interest, Murakumo cleared his throat and without turning to look at her said softly, "Your heart… the depths you go to in which to give … it’s overwhelming, Midori."

His head swiveled partially so that she could see his profile and he inclined his head in a slight bow. His voice when it again came, was quieter than before, but even so, he made certain that she could hear what he said.

"I… feel… honored and humbled - and I will make sure you’ll never regret giving your heart to me."

A tender smile appeared at the corners of her mouth as she watched him turn stiffly back towards the window.

"- As long as you are with me, I will never have regrets," she responded softly.

With a curt nod of his head, he acknowledged her words and for several moments longer, he stayed stationed by the window, too awkward to move, and uncertain as to what to do. His problem was inadvertently solved just a few seconds later when the door swung open and three people came traipsing through it in a flurry of motion. Murakumo’s expression darkened when he recognized one of them as being Midori’s selfish brother. Moving instinctively, he left the window and stepped towards Midori’s bed, his hand coming up to rest possessively against the wooden headboard behind Midori’s shoulders as he glowered at the young man.

"Y-yuji! Mom, Dad!" Midori greeted in weak surprise. Her eyes swung to Murakumo when she saw her brother check his speed and actually take a step backwards. "Stop scaring him!" she muttered under her breath, relaxing only when Murakumo struggled to comply, his menacing glare simmering down to just an autocratic stare.

The look of terror on Yuji’s face abated somewhat and he tentatively followed in the wake of their parents, who had been undaunted by Murakumo’s presence.

Of course they’d never been threatened with mutilation by Midori’s lover the way he had, Yuji thought miserably as he did his best to hide from the tall brute’s eyes behind the backs of his parents, content to listen to the barrage of concerned inquiries his mother was throwing at his sister.

Midori spent a few labored moments assuring them that she would be fine, and telling them about the TAC’s victory over the Tengugaki, all the while very aware of their pointed and unspoken curiosity towards the tall figure standing regally by her side.

"-But how did you get here!?: she stammered when she’d finally finished her explanation, trying to forestall any awkward questions. "Travel has been extremely dangerous! You should have stayed somewhere safe!"

"You’re our daughter," her mother replied strongly, her eyes warm and loving as they rested upon Midori’s wan face. "We would risk everything where you and Yuji are concerned to make sure you’re safe," she looked at her husband for support and he nodded emphatically in agreement with her words. "Not that there was a great deal of risk involved for use, dear. Mr. Kunikida arranged for our air transport as soon as we’d been informed of your injuries. So, we had a military escort. They seemed quite capable of handling any danger that might have arisen, but perhaps," her mother amended, her eyes leaving her daughter to focus just to the left of her, "not as capable as this gentleman appears to be."

There was a pause, which Midori found extremely uncomfortable, even though her mother seemed completely at ease.

"I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you among the ranks of Midori’s TAC friends, young man," she observed, addressing Murakumo directly.

Murakumo’s brows soared at being called young but his voice was even as he said, "That’s because I’m not among the ranks of the TAC," and then after a quick glance down at Midori, he added, "not officially anyway."

"M-m-mother, this is Murakumo – he and Kusanagi along with Momiji were the keys to our victory over the Tengugaki." Midori stammered in introduction, shooting her brother a questioning look.

She’d assumed that Yuji would have told her parents about Murakumo, but realized he’d kept her secret when returned her gaze with a helpless shrug. Had he kept it out of respect for her privacy? she wondered ruefully, or because he was afraid that Murakumo might rip out his spleen if he said anything?

Finally cognizant of her daughter’s unease, Midori’s mother gave Murakumo a measuring glance.

"So, young man," she brusquely addressed him, "why are you here with my daughter? What is your relationship with her?"

Midori cringed at her mother’s cutting directness. So much for avoiding awkward questions! she thought in consternation.

"I am here to protect her," Murakumo responded loftily, his eyes flickering dismissively over Yuji before moving back to the matronly figure standing in front of him. "-The same way she has protected me."

"Protected you?" Mrs. Fujisawa gave him an odd look.

"Mother-" Midori began in a strained voice, fearful that Murakumo’s explanation of their relationship could only frighten and alarm her parents.

"Yes," Murakumo nodded, ignoring Midori’s abortive attempts to take hold of the conversation. "That is what mates do. They protect each other."

"Mates?" Ms. Fujisawa’s eyes widened; behind her Yuji groaned miserably. "Hush," she murmured over her shoulder to her son before sharply redirecting her attention to Midori. "So you two are ‘mates’, Midori?" she demanded.

All eyes turned towards Midori, but the only pair she was truly conscious of were the grey ones trained steadily on her, waiting for her response.

"Yes."

Her voice was firm and definite and Yuji groaned, this time louder than before. He stifled it though when his mother rounded on him and fixed him with a critical eye.

"You see!?" she said in exasperation, throwing up her hands, "your baby sister has found someone – so why – can’t – you!?"

Immediately a loud squabble broke out between mother and son. Midori’s father rolled his eyes, heaved a long-suffering sigh and kept his silence – as he always did. Normally he steered clear of the squabbles that arose when his wife felt the need to meddle in Yuji’s life and air her opinion at what he should and shouldn’t be doing. Mr. Fujisawa had found it worked best if he refrained from interfering and let her get it all out of her system – otherwise, it just increased the amount of time his erstwhile son ended up suffering since she would only continue her lecture if interrupted prematurely. However, in this instance, he changed his mind after one look at the happiness shining brightly upon his daughter’s face.

Murakumo had just slipped his hand around Midori’s and she was staring up at him. Both seemed oblivious to the noise that Yuji and his wife were making, but even so, he felt that they had overstayed their welcome. So, as unobtrusively as he could, he reached out and began shepherding his wife and son from the room. Not surprising to him, they were so engrossed in their heated contention that they weren’t even aware that they were being moved. It was only as he clicked the door closed behind them and his wife paused for a breath that she finally realized that they were standing out in the hallway.

"I just thought those two deserved a little peace before we started airing our family… differences…" he mumbled vaguely at his wife’s inquiring look.

"Quite right," she agreed with a decisive nod after a moment’s thought. "She seems happy with him and we certainly don’t want to scare her young man away."

A hysterical crack of laughter from Yuji interrupted her and he exclaimed a little wildly, "Scare him away!? Scare him away!? He’s too terrifying to be scared away by anything we could possibly say or do – I can’t believe you actually approve of their relationship!"

"Of course I do," Mrs. Fujisawa retorted reproachfully, "your sister has found someone strong to watch over her. I know I don’t have to worry about her happiness anymore – You on the other hand – "

"Oh, here we go again!" Yuji muttered irritably under his breath before exclaiming crossly, "this is not about me; this is about Midori and her Yakuza boyfriend!"

With another long sigh, Mr. Fujisawa glanced regretfully at Midori’s door. He would’ve liked to have spent a few more minutes with her, but he supposed it was for the best.

With the same quiet adeptness as before, Mr. Fujisawa herded the remainder of his still quibbling family past the nurses’ station, a small smile affixed upon his face as his thoughts centered on the two remaining occupants of the hospital room. Midori had found happiness; the kind of happiness that lasted a lifetime, and as a father, his daughter’s happiness was all that really mattered.