Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Ragnarok ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Warnings: A bit of this and that, characters not following my orders and doing whatever they feel like, and just a hint of non-con (nothing serious, I promise).

Ragnarok

The End is Only the Beginning

There are many theories on life, death, and the afterlife.

Many, many threads. Ice Sapphire, Cold Emerald, Fragmented Amethyst. Genki Gold, Spring Green. All of them, interwoven together. Spun pattern after spun pattern after spun pattern.

There is the Christian belief that life, death, and the afterlife is all one, straight line. You are born, you live, you die, and you are judged. There is no chance to correct mistakes, except through purgatory.

There is the Buddhist belief in Nirvana and the Hinduism belief in Karma. Nirvana, a constant search for the self and the loss of the binding "personality", a belief similar to that of Karma, eternal reincarnation for the sole purpose of discovering the basic principles of life.

A tapestry. A woven picture of that which was, the weaving of that which is, and the hints of that which will be. Possessing both Chaos and Order; Unpredictable.

All of them, Enma-daioh mused, were both right and wrong. As if the truth had scattered, repelling each other, gathering up an illusion of lies in a challenge to the eternal human questing of the self.

He looked down at the red thread in his hands, the deceptively fragile material intertwined with his slender fingers. Cats Cradle it was called, in some countries, a childish game to be played singularly or in pairs. It was nothing more than a game of creation, something to tantalize the curiosity. He laughed; it was also, to his ever-renewing amusement, the closest thing that mortals had ever thought up of that could compare with the Life Tapestry. And, to them, simply nothing more than a child's game.

How Ironic.

Many patterns, shapes and designs. Many, spanning many eons and many places, continuing on - The Beginning hidden in shadow, and The Ending never written. An unsolved puzzle to the enlightened mind - did The Beginning and The Ending even exist?

Enma-daioh looked up from his game, his attention diverted back to the pattern forming within the Tapestry. It was a pattern he was all too familiar with. Always different, yet never changing. Always with different colours, yet the core always remained the same: Sapphire, Gold, Amethyst, Emerald…

…and Shadow.

There is always one pattern that eternally repeats itself, a phenomenon that has never been solved. It, like The Life Tapestry, simply Is - nothing to explain, nothing to solve, simply something to exist. This pattern has been given a name, something that strikes fear into the minds of those who understand, it's coming always shaking the Worlds to their foundations.

It is Ragnarok. It is the End of the World.

"Enma-daioh-sama! Enma-daioh-sama!" The Death Deity sighed, turning to face his subordinates.

"Oh, yes. I nearly forgot about the meeting. Extend my apologies to those waiting and tell them I will arrive shortly."

"At once, Enma-daioh-sama!" The subordinate scampered out of the room and zoomed down the hallway.

Enma glanced back, only once, at the Life Tapestry before departing. The beginning weaves of Ragnarok had come too soon - his preparations stood only half-complete, and the major players untrained and unprepared for what lay ahead.

But perhaps this time, this time those two might be spared.

But perhaps not. One could never predict Ragnarok - not its coming, not its leaving, not the events it will use to mark those involved. He, after all, was also a by-product of the last weaving of Ragnarok. He was not the one capable of foreseeing that which could happen.

He could only dream. He could only wish. He could only grope blindly through the dark and hope for a favourable result.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tatsumi-san, here are the latest case files." The secretary of JuOhCho sighed, resisting the urge to run a hand through impeccable chocolate hair as he stared at the newest manila folder in morbid amusement. He, Konoe, and Watari were the only ones not assigned to field duty - he to process the cases arriving daily, Konoe to foresee that everything was running smoothly, and Watari to…

…actually, he didn't know why Watari wasn't assigned field duty. The only answer he'd gotten from the scientist was an unintelligible mutter and the phrase "unsolved mystery" before the blonde shut himself away in the library of all places.

Well, it wasn't because he thought the library was a loathsome place, mind, just that it wasn't a place Watari associated with himself outside of work - he often replied that the equipment was much better in his lab when asked.

Tatsumi blinked, as if trying to clear his vision, before opening the manila folder. This situation was very simple, he simply had to boil it down to a few facts: Watari + Library = Work. Work = Good. Thus, Watari + Library = Good. And there was no reason to worry about good things, right? It simply wasted time.

Now, if he just kept telling himself that perhaps he could work and stop worry over Watari's odd behavior. After all, the scientist's personal problems were none of his concern, and there was nothing he could do anyway. Best to ponder about things he could do something about.

If only that nagging feeling would disappear…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hindsight is both a curse and a blessing to humanity - it allows us to see our mistakes, and plagues countless thousands with "could have done"s and "should have done"s. It is also an indicator of survival - those who don't survive the sparking incident see no purpose in plaguing themselves.

There are incidents in life however, Hisoka mused, in which hindsight couldn't be used. And this was definitely one of them. There was no "could have" or "should have" - there wasn't anytime to even react.

Which is how Hisoka found himself facing a speeding truck, it's horn blaring like the bugle of a raging bull.

'This…is not good.'

Shinigami, Hisoka knew, could take quite a lot more damage and easily survive physically traumatic events than a normal human, coming out relatively unscathed. He was also certain, however, that this ability didn't quite extend to being run over and possibly dismembered.

He idly recalled, as all those in dire peril do, a nursery rhyme his mother used to read to him back before he was locked away. He couldn't quite remember the entire story about that wall and that egg, though. But, he wondered, could any of the other Shinigami put him back together again?

There was a flash of darkness. And black wings. A flying sensation soon accompanied these images, and the blonde found himself off the street and on a high rooftop not far from where he was nearly mowed down.

Of course, he was also staring down one of the most hideous demons he had ever seen.

Quite frankly, he would have preferred the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A cool rush of air slipped passed Tatsumi's face, sliding through strands of chocolate hair as it rushed toward freedom. He shivered slightly as he looked around for the Gushoshin - the library had always been too chilly for his tastes, yet another reason to not come here on a regular basis.

"Tatsumi-san?" The younger Gushoshin called out, floating behind the secretary. "Wow, it is so unusual to see Tatsumi-san in the library these days!" It chirped out, smiling. Tatsumi wasn't sure how the Gushoshin smiled with beaks instead of mouths - but, then again, nobody could possibly understand everything about them.

Not even, he suspected, the Gushoshin themselves.

Mentally berating himself for the irrelevant train of thought, he turned toward the younger sibling, his normal, stoic mask firmly in place. "Actually, I need you to run an errand for me and retrieve Yuma and Saya from duty as swiftly as possible. It's important."

It nodded. "Of course, Tatsumi-san! Right away!" It paused, an almost devilish grin curving its beak. "However, Tatsumi-san, since I'm to leave right away, I need you to bring these books to Watari-san. Poor Watari-san has been hard at work with nothing to look at but these books! I'm sure he'll appreciate seeing you." The secretary blinked - had the librarian stressed the 'you', or was that simply his imagination?

If it had not been contrary to his character, Tatsumi would have sighed at the librarian's fleeing back. Sometimes he wondered if there was something conspiring against him, something that was determined to keep him from pulling the Shokan division out of the red areas of budget management.

He squared his shoulders. Well, if there was such a conspiracy, he was about to go see one of the masterminds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tsuzuki blinked, trying to adjust his eyes from the change of the low, artificial glow of lamps to the harsh sunlight outside. He searched the surrounding area for his partner, his sweeping gaze searching for a mop of gold hair that shone from the sea of black. He wasn't sure why Hisoka waited outside - after all, who could resist the temptations of a candy store?

A slight splinter of panic wedged itself within Tsuzuki's mind as what started out as a calm search became a frantic scour. His partner was nowhere in sight.

A flash of something invaded his mind. It disappeared before he could identify quite what it was, but in retrospect, he didn't care.

He turned heel, speeding down the sidewalk, his black trench coat flapping in the speed-made breeze like forgotten wings. He didn't care about the what or the how. Right now, all that mattered was that he knew where Hisoka was. And, even worse, that the blonde empath had gotten himself into another dangerous situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even hideous, Hisoka decided, was definitely an understatement. In fact, he wasn't quite sure if there was a man-made word that could possibly describe the demon before him. Possibly grotesque, but he had a feeling it was still a stretch.

The demon seemed ready to pop out of its leathery, scarred skin. The crimson red of its flesh seemed stretched over muscle like a cat suit, emphasizing too-large muscles and a misshapen, tangled spider web of veins. Pink scars crisscrossed its flesh, as if the demon's creator had been dissatisfied with his creation and dismantled it several times. Only to recreate it over, and over, and over again.

Hisoka's gaze slid lower before snapping back up to its shoulders, embarrassed crimson and sickened green warring for supremacy on his face. His opponent was completely nude and undeniably male.

It was also aroused.

"…have so much fun," the demon babbled on, shortening the distance between them by first one step, then another, then another…

"…huh?" Hisoka blinked - he had been so caught up in the demon's hideous appearance, he had zoned out everything else.

It smirked, displaying broken, jagged, yellowing teeth. "I said, pretty boy, that ya' look almost exactly like that damn bastard who killed me before, Hiketsu." Its leathery wings, perhaps the only redeeming feature, twitched in anticipation. "Perhaps if you're such an obedient little toy and do what I ask of you, I'll keep you for playtime later."

The Shinigami froze, every muscle tensing and clenching themselves. Panic shot through his veins, locking his muscles even as fear rooted himself to the spot. His emerald eyes started to blank out, caught in the siren's call of the past. He could almost see the falling Sakura petals; he could almost taste the metallic blood from when he had bitten his tongue while Muraki had…

A large clawed hand filled his vision a split second before his head snapped to the side, the shock pulling him out of his destructive daydream. "Don't you dare ignore me, brat," the demon hissed, roughly grabbing the empath's chin. Sharp, black claws penetrated the soft skin around his jaw, and he could feel blood tracing random patterns down his skin.

"That's better." It leaned forward, and Hisoka's nose wrinkled at the stench of old blood and rotten corpses from its breath. "I hope you're at least a screamer, I enjoy pained screams the most." Its tongue flicked out, leaving a moist trail along his earlobe.

Caught in the horrors of the present, and the memories of the past, Hisoka screamed.

"Hisoka!!" The demon was thrown off of the empath, skidding across the pavement of the rooftop. A white paw placed itself in his field of vision and he looked up. Byakko stood over him protectively, teeth bared and ruby eyes sparking with fury. The shikigami glanced down at Hisoka once before leaping, roaring as it slammed into its prey.

"Hisoka!" A warm hand clamped onto his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, his hand darting out against the intruder of his personal space. His palm connected, and he opened his eyes. Wide, hurt violet eyes stared at him, contrasting with the red handprint decorating one cheek. "Hisoka…"

Emerald eyes widened as guilt welled up within the empath. The eyes started to shimmer with tears, the clear fluid spilling down pale cheeks as he started to babble.

"OhmygodTsuzukiI'msosorryIdidn'tmeanitIjustthoughtyouweresomeoneelseand - " A part of his mind cried out in horror at his hysterical tone, but the rest of his brain promptly told it to shut up.

Amethyst eyes blinked, surprised. "Hisoka?" Tsuzuki tilted his head to the side; this wasn't like his partner at all.

The teenage lunged forward, pale hands gripping the black trench coat tightly. But still, he didn't sob, keeping hold of enough pride to tone down his voice to mere whimpers.

"Ummmm…" Tsuzuki placed first one hesitant hand on a trembling shoulder, and then the other. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with this situation.

In the background the tiger shikigami continued to rip apart his opponent, his mind occupied with troubled thoughts. Demons - true demons had been efficiently banished from the mortal realm millennia ago - what could the reappearance of one such as this possibly mean?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tatsumi! What are you doing here? I mean, this is the library!" The secretary of JuOhCho raised one slim eyebrow at the scientist's incredulous tone - was his dislike of the library that well known?

"I came to give one of the Gushoshin a mission. I decided to do it a favour and deliver the books that it was supposed to bring," he replied stiffly.

"Ah," came the short reply. Was there a note of…disappointment in Watari's tone? "Well, in that case put them over there with the other books." An absent hand was waved behind them toward a cherry wood table. The brunette's other eyebrow rose at the thought of being ordered to do something, but he complied anyway. There was no use in arguing, anyway.

He placed the books gently on the table - he may not have been fond of the place, but the books cost money. He ignored his companion in favour of perusing the book titles. If he had been any less stoic, a shocked look would have settled itself across his face.

History, mythology, and…curses? Exactly what was Watari researching?

"Watari, how does this pertain to the current mission assigned to us?"

"It has very little to do with the mission, actually," the blonde answered matter-of-factly. "It has more to do with Bon and Tsuzuki. I'm worried about them - Bon especially."

"'Worried'?" The secretary frowned - there had better be a good reason for this, otherwise the scientist was wasting company time.

"Yes, worried," Watari replied, running a hand through his hand. "Bon was forced on this mission - by Enma himself - even though he had another fainting spell. There is definitely something wrong with this whole situation, and I'm trying to figure out what."

Tatsumi nodded slightly. Normally, he would consider this a waste of time. Normally…but even he had been slightly alarmed by the orders that had come from higher up. "Find anything yet?"

"No!" Watari exploded uncharacteristically, tugging at his hair. "I've tried everything! Their pasts, how they died, what they did after they died - even their bloodlines and ancestors! There's been absolutely nothing to distinguish either of them high enough for Him to take notice - especially Bon!" He was frustrated beyond belief, the combination of worry over his friends and co-workers, and a long fruitless search.

"Have you tried checking reincarnations?"

"…….."

"I didn't think so," Tatsumi commented dryly.

"……I never even thought of that! I should have checked for that sooner!" He dived for the computer, long-boned fingers flying over the keyboard. Long minutes of silence followed before Tatsumi finally left.

He hated being ignored almost as much as wasted money.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hisoka grunted as sunlight struck his face, waking him from a light doze. He yawned, stretching his tired muscles before finally sitting up. He ran one hand through sleep-tousled hair, fighting another yawn.

Yesterday had been absolutely awful. For some reason, he had found it impossible to stop crying, and so Tsuzuki had been forced to carry him all the way back to the hotel room. A blush of embarrassment flushed his pale skin - he wasn't normally that over-emotional. But, for some reason, the actions of the demon had been even more terrifying than it should have been. What was wrong with him?

A gentle rap on the door brought the empath out of his musings. He contemplated not opening it - the person outside was probably hotel staff, and he didn't relish seeing anyone that might have witnessed him at his worst last night.

The rapping came again, more forceful this time, and Hisoka hauled himself to his feet. This had better be good.

"Tatsumi-san?" He blinked, surprised. What was the secretary doing in the mortal plane so early in the morning?

"Good. I wasn't sure if you would be up yet. If I may…?" He gestured toward the doorway the empath was blocking. Hisoka could feel himself blush for the second time that day as he moved aside.

"Hisoka," came a sleepy voice. "Who is - Tatsumi-san!"

"Hello to you too, Tsuzuki," the secretary commented wryly. He cleared his throat. "I cannot stay here long, I still have a lot of work to complete up in Meifu. To make this short, we've found a pattern of murders occurring in a private high school only a few hours from here, and as the closest you two have been assigned to investigate." He looked down at the manila folder in his hands, hesitating. The blonde started to get an uneasy feeling. "Hisoka-kun, you've once again been assigned the role of a high school student. But…"

Two identical female squeals could be heard from outside the door as Yuma and Saya rushed in, glomping the poor empath.

"It's a dream come true!" Yuma exclaimed.

"We finally get to play dress up with Hisoka!" Saya gushed.

Tatsumi glanced at the females in annoyance at the interruption. "But," he continued, "this private high school is, in fact, girls only."

"……………."

"Hisoka? Where are you going?"

"……………"

Tsuzuki blinked. "Hisoka?"

A cool rush of breeze ruffled the curtains as a window was opened.

"Ummmmm, Yuma, what is he doing?"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Hisokaaaaaaaa~! Don't jump!"

Author's Notes ~ Finally done. *Glares at offending YnM characters* This probably would have been done faster if some people hadn't decided to do their own thing.

Tatsumi wasn't supposed to have that whole inner monologue about Watari, but I gave him just one slim opening, and he grabbed the bit between his teeth. Even the Gushoshin were conspiring against me!

…………I don't even want to know where that demon came from….

Anyway, after much debating I've finally decided to try scheduling my releases again. So, starting in April I will be releasing one chapter of Ragnarok every 15th of the month. Though, once I graduate, I'll probably change this to every 15th and 30th of the month. Or, if I really get bored, every ten days. This is so people don't try and check for this every day. It's also to give me a schedule so I don't slack off. =P

*Sniff* My beta-reader had to quit soon after the completion of this chapter. Well…*Blinks* she wasn't a true beta-reader in the sense of the word, but she would always point out my silly little mistakes when she returned my fic. *Sweatdrop* She also held a whip over my head whenever I started to get lazy…

….now I need to find one for chapter four…and I'm not quite sure where to look. Maybe I'll get two betas, just in case one of them has something to do or whatnot. After all, if two heads are better than one, than three are better than two! =P

So, you know the drill, Yami no Matsuei doesn't belong to me, yadda yadda. E-mail me at silverwave_torrent@hotmail.com or senshiseishi_nuriko@hotmail.com with praise, criticism, flames, death threats, etc.