Shina watched from the distance as Sage approached, steely determination permeating every movement he made. A few feet away was her usual body, ready to begin the overt assault. An easy ambush was what this stubborn bastard needed to put him in his place. He had robbed her of several suitable meals, and keeping him in eternal agony alongside his idiot friend was the only appropriate way to punish him for all the grief he had given her. It was surprising; her wayward little sister’s body was stronger and faster than she let on. With this new vessel, it would almost pathetically easy.
“Shina,” a familiar, slightly angry voice said behind her. she turned around and met Cye’s angry gaze from under his armor. “I’ve come for Ayame.”
“What the hell is that, a shell?” Shina-Ayame asked, reaching to touch him; he batted her hand away with a quick, light swing of his trident. “You don’t honestly think that get-up will help you with this little endeavor, do you? Ayame’s gone, and she’s not coming back.”
“She’s here,” Cye said, menacing the succubus with the end of his trident. “She’s with me.”
“That bitch actually thinks she can hide in a pathetic little boy like you and challenge me?”
{Shina, you don’t know who he is.}
“I’m not letting you take Ayame away from me. Not after all we went through.” Cye’s tone became cold, focused; his temper was starting to surface.
{Sai, please stay calm. She’s still more powerful than you, and she could really hurt you....Please don’t let her hurt you.}
Shina-Ayame moved menacingly closer to him. “You know, humans are repulse. You’re little more than refuse waiting for decomposition. Why would Ayame even want to TOUCH one of you mistakes, let alone be one? Besides, she doesn’t even LIKE you, or else why’d she have gone after your friend like that? I wouldn’t so much as TOUCH him, let alone what SHE did.”
A sense of hurt alarm surged through Cye, followed by steelly denial. “What are you talking about?”
Shina-Ayame smiled cruelly. “You’ll know soon enough, little boy. She doesn’t even THINK about doing that kind of thing to YOU.”
Cye stared in total confusion, then suddenly smirked under his icy glare, drawing a deep, condescending giggle from his opponent. “Awww...you have a plan? What is it, little boy?”
\Ayame,......excuse me./
Cye took a deep breath and dropped his trident, seizing Shina-Ayame in a tight embrace. He closed his eyes and kissed her, letting a sensation of warmth slip out of his body; as it did, a cold, burning sensation left Ayame’s body with a faint shriek. The protesting push of her hands against his arms became gentle yielding, and the resistance to his osculation developed into passionate acceptance. A feeling of relaxation and relief engulfed the two; at least they were free now.
Sage stared directly into Shina’s deathly gaze. All the pain that he and his friends had suffered in the past weeks originated from her; every moment of agony and terror and grief was her fault. She smiled cruelly, revealing a set of humanoid fangs under what he could only hope was red lipstick and not anything else. A pang of pain raced through his right arm; the third eye shot open. Sage stared at it, a nagging ache swallowing his entire form. Shina started to laugh a low, guttural giggle. The image of Rowen’s lifeless body slipped into his mind, adding to his pain. He steadied his shaky legs and focused his pain into his gaze, meeting Shina’s fiendish glare. Fighting the aches, he raised his right hand, palm open and third eye focused.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Shina taunted. “You must have a death wish.”
“I don’t care if I die,” Sage painfully responded. “Just so long as our souls can rest and you can never hurt anyone again.”
Shina dashed forward with an inhuman velocity and grabbed his throat. “Have it your way, slave boy.” A burning, stabbing pain ripped into Sage’s body, and his knees gave out. He forced his hand over her gaze; she froze, leaving him trapped in his pain. A faint whisper escaped her lips. “......M-Mother.........?”
The eye blinked, and a symphony of tortured cries filled the air. Shina deteriorated in seconds; her elegant hair rotted away into wiry clumps; her skin first stretched taunt over her, then darkened to a charcoal gray and dissolved; her entire structure fell into a heap of dust that ignited into a brilliant conflagration. Sage watched the fire from where he had fallen. He doubled over as he knelt, cradling his injured right arm against his stomach. The tears washed his face, trickling off his chin and onto the resting third eye. “Rowen.....I’m sorry.....” he whimpered. He stood up and started to wander back towards home, starting to sob. His victory was not complete; he doubted it ever could be at this point.
Cye opened his eyes as he felt Ayame pull away from him. He stared into her baffled gaze; she broke her eyes free from his long enough to analyze his attire. Soon, he too wore a look of confusion as he removed his helmet, repeatedly dragging his tongue along his teeth.
“Ayame, do you know you have fangs?” Cye rhetorically asked. As he dropped his helmet, he noticed her perplexed study of his armor and blushed with a nervous laugh. “Oh, yeah.....Well, I can explain back home.” A stumbling figure neared the couple, a steady stream of moaning following it. Cye caught his breath. “Sage?”
Sage staggered towards them, glaring painfully at Ayame. He pried his right arm away from his body and rested it heavily against Ayame. “..You.......killed.......Rowen, you.........” Cye pulled him away from her. “N..... She killed him.....” Sage whimpered, more tears streaking his face. “Ask her... She killed him....”
“I-....” Ayame stuttered, eyes awash with tears of her own. “I don’t’ really remember. I remember hearing his voice but that’s it, honestly. He can’t be dead now...”
“You BROKE his NECK!” Sage angrily cried. Another cry, one of pure pain, escaped him as the third eye shot open. Instead of a silver-blue iris, a rush of blood ran down and puddled on the ground. Sage’s pain eased into disgust at the unending flow of blood, a distaste stopped by Ayame sacrifice of her scarf as a bandage. He tried to catch her gaze, but her eyes focused down at the ground. “Thank you,” Sage half whispered to her without reaction. “Can we go home now?”
Rowen opened his eyes. Every inch of him was in extreme pain, especially his limbs. He was nude, and something white and lightweight was covering him. The memory of the assault was oddly faint, even though certain details remained unwelcomely clear. How could someone just overpower him like that, ravage him like that, violate him so wantonly? He sat up, tossing the sheets that covered him off his bare body. If he was in so much pain, where were his injuries? He fished out a pair of boxers from his pile of random clothes and wandered out into the hallway. Hopefully, Sage was still here. As he reached the living room, he saw Cye at the phone, looking rather agitated. At least he wasn’t alone.
“It’s okay, Kento, I’m ok--” Cye said as he paced with the phone. “No, we’re at Mia’s. We--....She doesn’t need to call the police!......Yeah, she’s here. I wanna talk to her for a while, and--....No, she’s NOT evil anymore! How can you.....” Cye looked at the hall and met Rowen’s confused stare. “I gotta go......Yes, I’ll call later. Bye.” Cye shut off the phone and replaced it on the table before going to meet Rowen. “Rowen? Are you okay?”
“I really, really hurt,” Rowen answered. “Is there any morphine?”
“All we have is Advil.”
“That’ll do.” Rowen started into the living room. The place was, as usual, crowded. Sage was sprawled out on the loveseat, curled under the afghan; his hand was bandaged, and he looked alarmingly pale. In one of the recliners, Ayame was sleeping, wrapped in Cye’s jacket. A bolt of recognition hit him; this slumbering little girl had nearly killed him, had savaged him and treated him like such a lifeless rag doll. He had half a mind to attack her, let her know the pain and terror and dehumanization he had felt, but Cye’s close proximity and his own nagging sense of decency prevented it. “Bitch,” he spat out under his breath before retreating to the sofa.
Sage moaned from the sofa and tossed the blankets off. “Cye? Are you there?” he whined, eyes closed.
Rowen just stared for a while before finally breaking the silence. “Where’d you go?” he asked, assuming Sage could see him.
“Rowen?” Sage cried, his eyes shooting wide open. He beamed in relief and rushed to hug his friend. “Rowen! I thought you died!”
“Sa--”
“I never thought I’d see you again.”
“Sage!” Rowen yelled; Sage looked up, still smiling. A pale, embarrassed blush had come over Rowen’s wan complexion. “This is really awkward, and I really hurt, so if you’d just...”
“Oh.” Sage stepped away and left Rowen to flop back down on the sofa. “How long have you been up?”
“Not long, and I won’t be up much longer if Cye could just hurry up and get my Advil!” Rowen said in an ever-increasing volume between clenched teeth.
Cye hurried back from the hall bathroom with a glass of water and a bottle of pills, both of which he nearly threw at Rowen. “Here, you big baby,” he said with a frustrated sigh. He knelt down by Ayame and kissed her on the cheek, waking her. “You wanna sleep upstairs, darling?” he whispered.
Ayame nodded. “Are you still wearing pointy stuff?” she whimpered.
“No, it’s okay,” Cye said as he cradled her in his arms. “I’ll explain that later, I promise.” He started off for the hallway stairs.
“Okay..” Ayame drifted off, resting her head against his shoulder as he hiked up the stairs.
Rowen glared at the two as they vanished. “I DON’T LIKE her,” he grumbled as he sipped his water.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Sage said. “You realize that all this...... weirdness started with her arrival.”
“Oh, yeah. What are you suggesting we do, ‘cuz I ha--”
“I wouldn’t do anything hasty yet. If it keeps up at this pace, we may have to take certain measures, but for now we should wait.”
“Well, what if it IS her fault?”
Sage winced inwardly; he had never seen Rowen so upset, and he knew it couldn’t result in anything positive. “We’ll see if it is.”
“And if that’s the case, what about Cye?”
Sage stood up to leave his friend, still weary and achy. His fingers drifted over the bloodied bandage. “We’ll see what happens. That’s all.”