[Dead is the first thing she thinks as she looks out over the landscape. The ravaged shell of the town, houses destroyed, lawns dismembered, establishments--establishments no more. A chilly breeze blows across her bare shoulders (the town is fond of keeping her wardrobe full of long, thin, lacey, sleeveless white nightgowns) and she shivers. It's easy to dismiss the shiver as the cold and not any sort of emotional reverbration.
She has always been an excellent scholar of denial.
She swallows hard, unfocuses her painfully clear gaze, and spreads her long, dark hair across her pale shoulders to warm them. (The benefits of having so much of the purple tresses.) She doesn't know what's going on, but there is a cool sort of collected, calm panic that flutters in her stomach. She is waiting for something. She doesn't know what.
A figure appears--or was it always there? It's hard for Izumo to distinguish. Her entire thought process is currently a little blurred. The town, out of focus, shifts--bright and dark--happy and sad--alive and dead, dead, dead. The figure is dressed in white, too; she is sleight, with a mousy brown bob, a pretty, round face, and small dark eyes.
Paku. And Paku shines so intangibly bright, stark and clean against the sudden filth and decay of the town--of her--that Izumo can't help but blink and step back.
And then she runs at full-sprint towards Paku, whose serene smile never falters, even as she slowly raises a palm turned flat towards Izumo, a palm that erects an invisible barrier that the purple-haired teenager invariably almost smashes into. Izumo jerks to a halt and stares at Paku, bewildered and breathless.]
Paku! [She breathes shallowly, her expression fracturing piece by piece into relief and happiness and emotion. She almost looks as if she's about to cry.] Oh, Paku, you're here--!
[But Paku's expression does not change. And despite that Izumo has missed her terribly in the past week (it seems longer) with the thought that she might never see her again, despite the fact that she should be ecstatic to see her best friend no matter the circumstances, her elated look falters.]
Paku...?
Shhhhhh. [Paku's warning is jovial. The serene expression spreads calm over her frenzied nerves. She takes Izumo's hands in hers.]
Hush, Izumo-chan. I need your attention. We're running out of time.
[Her smile has evaporated.] Time? You mean you're going to leave--?
[Paku shakes her head, brown bob lifting.] That's not the point. This is bigger than you and me. [She looks away from Izumo, turning towards the background of the flickering town. Izumo allows herself to focus and gasps.
It looks like an apocalyptic wasteland, now, only recognizable by the charred, collapsed remains of once-durable structures.]
This place is collapsing. They try to hide it, but it's impossible. You can't hide forever.
[Izumo looks from the wasteland to Paku and back. Then she frowns decidedly.] It's a town full of drones!
And people. [She extends a hand; Izumo takes it without a second thought and the scene flits to one vastly different.
The birth of a child with strangely-shaped eyebrows, and the fading to disappointment on the faces all around. A scene where a woman wreaks havoc and a girl clutches another, a roar of fire and terror and demons, and it seems that all the anger and the despair stare her straight in the eyes. A purple-haired elementary schooler that walks alone, that picks fights and speaks harshly to her classmates, whose presence darkens a room; whose only friend, a brown-bobbed little girl as well, has a smile that fades quickly when she's not looking.
Later years, a green-eyed blonde girl in a kimono, whose smiles--the only genuine ones Izumo has seen as Paku walks her through her life--are whittled away by constant rebuffs and verbal assaults. Izumo sees herself using and abusing, sees the obedient smile on Shiemi's face twinkle uncertainly in her overwhelming presence and fade to bitter tears outside of it. She sees the way her exorcist classmates quiet and sober when she enters a room, the way they avoid her. She sees aspirations that she condemned fall and break on the ground, and she sees people break irreparably.
And she sees herself, the girl with long hair and odd eyebrows, walk through the invisible carnage without a trace of recognition. Her expression turns to one of horror.]
What--
[]Izumo holds tighter to Paku's calm, cool hand and watches events progress pass the point of her memory. But the visions have not passed. In fact, they change perspective: she is now not an outsider, watching the events, but herself again, living them. She watches Shiemi try to save her from the Impure King's clutches, only to fall to it herself. She watches Suguro's father sputter his last bloody breath at her feet, and surrounded by dead, she sprints through the brambles and the bush. Shima and Konekomaru, twisted and disfigured from the tentacles and the disease of the beast.
Her feet pound the grass and she runs. She does not know where Paku is--her guide is long gone--she's running to where she knows Suguro and Rin disappeared, and she's running fast. She bursts out of the brush on the mountain and teeters at the edge of a precipice.
There is panic and there is panting and she can't breathe and in a moment she is yanked from the scene, and once again, she holds Paku's hand tightly. She watches in horror as the girl with the long purple hair turns to the call of her classmates.
"Kamiki!"
Before them roils the huge, bulbous mass of the Impure King. A bloodied figure, mangled and slumped with a matted blond streak in his hair, lies at the feet of Rin. She can see those blue eyes plead, a hand held out, blood on his shirt, his useless sword clutched to his chest.
"Kamiki! I can't use my flames--you have to stop it!"
A paper is produced from the girl's pocket and in a stream of fervently-muttered words as the roar increases, a pair of kitsune familiars materialize.
But as Rin fights the advancing bulbous masses tooth and nail, the kitsune turn to her, hissing lowly.
Thy heart is weak. The likes of thee are unfit to command the likes of us.
The girl--herself--in Izumo's view tries to get a hold of herself, yells herself hoarse at the familiars who refuse to listen, but run away into the brush after seeing the King, and falls sobbing with frustration to the ground.
Rin is nowhere to be seen, and the sporangium grows bigger and bigger. Inevitably, it explodes. The Izumo holding Paku's hand, an onlooker, squeezing it so tight her knuckles turn white, turns away with shaking shoulders as the disease spreads.
She tries to look away as the scene changes: she sees the True Cross exorcists, and the Myo Dha, overcome and killed by the King and its disease. Kyoto is absolutely wiped out. The rest of the nation is left without a reliable source of exorcists, and more malevolent demons rise up even as the Impure King's plague spreads like wildfire.
Why? [She whispers and turns to Paku a miserable mess with tears streaking down her face.] Why me?
[Paku's face no longer has a smile, but is at impasse.]
Why couldn't I stop it?
Because you are weak, [Paku's voice is serene though the words are devastating.] Because you can't protect the people you care about. Don't you remember that time at the baths, Izumo-chan? You couldn't protect me. You couldn't help me. Your best friend would have died if not for the help of other people. You were useless.
[Izumo shakes and releases Paku's hand, stepping back.]
That can't be true. [she whispers.] I'm going to be an exorcist--
No, [interrupts Paku softly,] you aren't. Even if you could have survived the Impure King's explosion--which you couldn't have--there would be no one to train you. The Order would be wiped out. Because of you.
[Izumo remains silent.]
But. [says Paku, extending her hand.] But you can stop it, Izumo-chan. I know you don't mean to be a doomsday device--I know you. I know you don't want any of this to happen. So you can stop it.
How?
You simply cease to exist.
[]Her heart freezes for a moment, and she gasps for air. Everything is making her dizzy.] No--Paku--I can't--
It won't hurt a bit. [--says Izumo's best friend since childhood soothingly. Scenes of happiness, of people she knew laughing and smiling, achieving their goals. She sees a demon lying dead on the ground and a large amount of wreckage and a Rin with the biggest grin on his face she's ever seen: I've killed Satan. All of her other classmates, she sees excelling, going on to be exorcists. Paku smiles like Izumo's never seen her smile. Ever.
Mayfield, too, is bright and happy and Christmassy, though that matters much less to the purple-haired girl.]
I promise. You'll just--go to a place where no one can suffer because of you. Everything will be so much better.
I--I can't--
You can, Izumo-chan. Think of the things you could avoid. Think of the people you could save.
[The scenes cycle back to the death and destruction caused because of Izumo's failure.
She tries to ignore it, tries to shut her eyes, but then a very familiar scream in a very vivid vision jerks her eyes open to one of her worst nightmares.
It is Paku, taking her last breath on a deathbed, screaming in agony, having been sick and suffering for many months. Izumo can tell from the grotesque bulbous disfigurations on her skin that it is because of the Impure King's plague.
Something clicks. Something changes. A decision is made, and a perturbing calm settles over the purple-haired girl.
And then she looks at the Paku next to her, the Paku that looks suddenly heartbroken, watching the scene. And with tears in her eyes, screams echoing in the background, and a cracking voice, she grabs tightly to Paku's hand.]
She has always been an excellent scholar of denial.
She swallows hard, unfocuses her painfully clear gaze, and spreads her long, dark hair across her pale shoulders to warm them. (The benefits of having so much of the purple tresses.) She doesn't know what's going on, but there is a cool sort of collected, calm panic that flutters in her stomach. She is waiting for something. She doesn't know what.
A figure appears--or was it always there? It's hard for Izumo to distinguish. Her entire thought process is currently a little blurred. The town, out of focus, shifts--bright and dark--happy and sad--alive and dead, dead, dead. The figure is dressed in white, too; she is sleight, with a mousy brown bob, a pretty, round face, and small dark eyes.
Paku. And Paku shines so intangibly bright, stark and clean against the sudden filth and decay of the town--of her--that Izumo can't help but blink and step back.
And then she runs at full-sprint towards Paku, whose serene smile never falters, even as she slowly raises a palm turned flat towards Izumo, a palm that erects an invisible barrier that the purple-haired teenager invariably almost smashes into. Izumo jerks to a halt and stares at Paku, bewildered and breathless.]
Paku! [She breathes shallowly, her expression fracturing piece by piece into relief and happiness and emotion. She almost looks as if she's about to cry.] Oh, Paku, you're here--!
[But Paku's expression does not change. And despite that Izumo has missed her terribly in the past week (it seems longer) with the thought that she might never see her again, despite the fact that she should be ecstatic to see her best friend no matter the circumstances, her elated look falters.]
Paku...?
Shhhhhh. [Paku's warning is jovial. The serene expression spreads calm over her frenzied nerves. She takes Izumo's hands in hers.]
Hush, Izumo-chan. I need your attention. We're running out of time.
[Her smile has evaporated.] Time? You mean you're going to leave--?
[Paku shakes her head, brown bob lifting.] That's not the point. This is bigger than you and me. [She looks away from Izumo, turning towards the background of the flickering town. Izumo allows herself to focus and gasps.
It looks like an apocalyptic wasteland, now, only recognizable by the charred, collapsed remains of once-durable structures.]
This place is collapsing. They try to hide it, but it's impossible. You can't hide forever.
[Izumo looks from the wasteland to Paku and back. Then she frowns decidedly.] It's a town full of drones!
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The birth of a child with strangely-shaped eyebrows, and the fading to disappointment on the faces all around. A scene where a woman wreaks havoc and a girl clutches another, a roar of fire and terror and demons, and it seems that all the anger and the despair stare her straight in the eyes. A purple-haired elementary schooler that walks alone, that picks fights and speaks harshly to her classmates, whose presence darkens a room; whose only friend, a brown-bobbed little girl as well, has a smile that fades quickly when she's not looking.
Later years, a green-eyed blonde girl in a kimono, whose smiles--the only genuine ones Izumo has seen as Paku walks her through her life--are whittled away by constant rebuffs and verbal assaults. Izumo sees herself using and abusing, sees the obedient smile on Shiemi's face twinkle uncertainly in her overwhelming presence and fade to bitter tears outside of it. She sees the way her exorcist classmates quiet and sober when she enters a room, the way they avoid her. She sees aspirations that she condemned fall and break on the ground, and she sees people break irreparably.
And she sees herself, the girl with long hair and odd eyebrows, walk through the invisible carnage without a trace of recognition. Her expression turns to one of horror.]
What--
[]Izumo holds tighter to Paku's calm, cool hand and watches events progress pass the point of her memory. But the visions have not passed. In fact, they change perspective: she is now not an outsider, watching the events, but herself again, living them. She watches Shiemi try to save her from the Impure King's clutches, only to fall to it herself. She watches Suguro's father sputter his last bloody breath at her feet, and surrounded by dead, she sprints through the brambles and the bush. Shima and Konekomaru, twisted and disfigured from the tentacles and the disease of the beast.
Her feet pound the grass and she runs. She does not know where Paku is--her guide is long gone--she's running to where she knows Suguro and Rin disappeared, and she's running fast. She bursts out of the brush on the mountain and teeters at the edge of a precipice.
There is panic and there is panting and she can't breathe and in a moment she is yanked from the scene, and once again, she holds Paku's hand tightly. She watches in horror as the girl with the long purple hair turns to the call of her classmates.
"Kamiki!"
Before them roils the huge, bulbous mass of the Impure King. A bloodied figure, mangled and slumped with a matted blond streak in his hair, lies at the feet of Rin. She can see those blue eyes plead, a hand held out, blood on his shirt, his useless sword clutched to his chest.
"Kamiki! I can't use my flames--you have to stop it!"
A paper is produced from the girl's pocket and in a stream of fervently-muttered words as the roar increases, a pair of kitsune familiars materialize.
But as Rin fights the advancing bulbous masses tooth and nail, the kitsune turn to her, hissing lowly.
Thy heart is weak. The likes of thee are unfit to command the likes of us.
The girl--herself--in Izumo's view tries to get a hold of herself, yells herself hoarse at the familiars who refuse to listen, but run away into the brush after seeing the King, and falls sobbing with frustration to the ground.
Rin is nowhere to be seen, and the sporangium grows bigger and bigger. Inevitably, it explodes. The Izumo holding Paku's hand, an onlooker, squeezing it so tight her knuckles turn white, turns away with shaking shoulders as the disease spreads.
She tries to look away as the scene changes: she sees the True Cross exorcists, and the Myo Dha, overcome and killed by the King and its disease. Kyoto is absolutely wiped out. The rest of the nation is left without a reliable source of exorcists, and more malevolent demons rise up even as the Impure King's plague spreads like wildfire.
Japan is doomed.]
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[Paku's face no longer has a smile, but is at impasse.]
Why couldn't I stop it?
Because you are weak, [Paku's voice is serene though the words are devastating.] Because you can't protect the people you care about. Don't you remember that time at the baths, Izumo-chan? You couldn't protect me. You couldn't help me. Your best friend would have died if not for the help of other people. You were useless.
[Izumo shakes and releases Paku's hand, stepping back.]
That can't be true. [she whispers.] I'm going to be an exorcist--
No, [interrupts Paku softly,] you aren't. Even if you could have survived the Impure King's explosion--which you couldn't have--there would be no one to train you. The Order would be wiped out. Because of you.
[Izumo remains silent.]
But. [says Paku, extending her hand.] But you can stop it, Izumo-chan. I know you don't mean to be a doomsday device--I know you. I know you don't want any of this to happen. So you can stop it.
How?
You simply cease to exist.
[]Her heart freezes for a moment, and she gasps for air. Everything is making her dizzy.] No--Paku--I can't--
It won't hurt a bit. [--says Izumo's best friend since childhood soothingly. Scenes of happiness, of people she knew laughing and smiling, achieving their goals. She sees a demon lying dead on the ground and a large amount of wreckage and a Rin with the biggest grin on his face she's ever seen: I've killed Satan. All of her other classmates, she sees excelling, going on to be exorcists. Paku smiles like Izumo's never seen her smile. Ever.
Mayfield, too, is bright and happy and Christmassy, though that matters much less to the purple-haired girl.]
I promise. You'll just--go to a place where no one can suffer because of you. Everything will be so much better.
I--I can't--
You can, Izumo-chan. Think of the things you could avoid. Think of the people you could save.
[The scenes cycle back to the death and destruction caused because of Izumo's failure.
She tries to ignore it, tries to shut her eyes, but then a very familiar scream in a very vivid vision jerks her eyes open to one of her worst nightmares.
It is Paku, taking her last breath on a deathbed, screaming in agony, having been sick and suffering for many months. Izumo can tell from the grotesque bulbous disfigurations on her skin that it is because of the Impure King's plague.
Something clicks. Something changes. A decision is made, and a perturbing calm settles over the purple-haired girl.
And then she looks at the Paku next to her, the Paku that looks suddenly heartbroken, watching the scene. And with tears in her eyes, screams echoing in the background, and a cracking voice, she grabs tightly to Paku's hand.]
I'll do it.
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