If there's something strange in your neighborhood, who you gonna call?
Characters: Kimihiro Watanuki and Ichigo Kurosaki
Content: Previously, on Ichigo and Watanuki's Magical Adventures, they flew out in search of a banshee to scalp, but were attacked by her pet tentacle-centipede and crashed. Now, they must fight said centipede, and talk down an angry banshee....who seems to recognize one of them! OH, THE DRAMA~
Setting: The mountains north of Tulgim
Time: Baaaaaackdated to the mine collapse! Late, late afternoon
Warnings: Standard language, tsundere, blood and tentacle warnings (not kidding about those tentacles)
Notes: Part 1 of the log can be found here. We weren't kidding when we said this log was long.
“You," the woman said. As they got closer, they could see that her face was sunken, hollow, with the skin stretched tight over her cheekbones and eyes burning with a fevered light. She was addressing Ichigo, who was being held in the air by all four limbs, each with at least one tendril wrapped around it. "You came back."
Ichigo, who had been struggling for all he was worth, stared at her in confusion. Who was this? "I don't know what you're talking about!" he said. "Let me go!" He twisted again, but the creature's appendages only wrapped tighter around his wrists and ankles. His sword had been pulled out of his hand, and stuck uselessly out of the snow a few yards away. The creature itself was standing beside the woman, a mass of tentacles and crablike legs on a centipede's body.
"You came back," she repeated, unmistakable anger rising in her voice. "Do you know how long I waited? Do you know how painful it was to lie here, waiting for you, you who never came? How could you," she rasped, voice growing less human with each word.
At a distance of fifty feet, Watanuki could already see that this woman wasn't human. Even next to the monster's aura, she positively glowed with an otherwordly radiance against the snow. She seemed only half there.
He stopped in front of her, hunched against the mere thought of the tentacles above his head, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Ichigo to make sure he wasn't dead yet. "Wait!" he cried, flinging out his arms uselessly, as though he could stop her that way. "You've got the wrong person!"
Ichigo stared down at him in shock. "What the hell are you doing, you idiot?! Get out of here!" What was he doing, jumping into a situation like this? Watanuki couldn't fight! This was suicide! If he had stayed back, maybe he wouldn't have attracted attention, and could have called for help--!
This was bad. This was really bad. He had to calm down, and think -- there had to be a way out of this. Watanuki's presence had redoubled Ichigo's efforts to free himself from the monster's grip. He had to get loose, had to get the guy out of here....!
The woman, however, stared down at him impassively, her long, tangled, wild hair whipping in a cold wind off the mountains. "This is he," she said. "Out of my way. I want to deal with him myself."
"Are you deaf?!" Ichigo yelled. "Get out of h--mmph!" His sentence was cut off as another tendril wrapped around his mouth, gagging him.
"No!" Watanuki took a step toward the woman and halted, wary of making her angrier. "That's not-- we've never been here before!" He heard Ichigo's words cut off and feared imminent death by strangulation.
Dammit, they weren't going to die out here! Not like this! He changed tack desperately. "Please-- who are you looking for? Who do you think he is?" As long as he kept her talking, she didn't seem to be attacking.
"I've found him," she replied. "He is the man I once loved." Her eyes were still wild, still feverish, but their expression was tinged with sorrow. "Who I thought loved me. But then he left me here," the woman said bitterly, eyes angry again. "He left me out here to die!"
Behind Watanuki, Ichigo bit down on the tendril, and bit hard. Foreign, foul-tasting blood filled his mouth, but the tentacle uncurled from his face. Fighting the urge to gag, he spat out a mouthful of the blood, then turned to face the woman. "I don't know what you're talking about, lady, but I've never seen you before in my life!"
Fevered eyes narrowed. "You would also deny knowing me?" she rasped. "You must remember. Who would forget the woman you promised your heart to, and who was punished for it! When my father stranded me in these mountains, you never came for me!" Her volume increased, until it was a piercing shriek. "Have your wife and children truly dulled your memory? Were you so eager to replace me in your heart that your memories have faded as well?!"
Ichigo could only stare, so stupefied by her conviction that he stopped twisting to get free. Who the hell did she think he was? Some ex-lover who had left her to die? But that shriek sounded like a banshee's wail. Was she what they'd been looking for?
Just their luck, he thought, to find a banshee who thought Ichigo was someone she'd known, and want to kill him for it.
The woman's wails grated on Watanuki's ears, but he resisted the urge to cover them. "Please!" he said, taking another step toward her. He heard Ichigo's shouts, but ignored them - they didn't have time to argue about what Watanuki should be doing. "This is a misunderstanding!" She obviously wasn't going to believe him - how the hell was he supposed to make her realize that Ichigo wasn't the one she was looking for?
Looking at her, he could tell she was no longer human, but she didn't have the feel of a ghost, either. "Please tell me-- did you-- did you die here?" he asked. For all that he was scared out of his wits, there was genuine concern in the question - both for Ichigo's plight far above him and, strangely, for hers. Had she really been left to die out here in these frigid mountains?
She stared down at him, eyes simmering with rage. "Yes," she said. "My father found out that I had been with him, and stranded me here as a punishment. I was promised to someone else, and this was a betrayal of my fiancee. But he told me we could run away. He told me he would find me. But he didn't." Her mouth was a thin line, framed by stretched, unhealthy skin. "He stopped looking before he found me. I was still alive when he turned back. When I died, I followed him -- but he never saw me. He met someone else, and married her, and --" She broke off, sorrow in her voice.
"I was the one betrayed, not my father. He never even missed me. My death must have been fortunate," the woman said bitterly.
Ichigo stared, agape. “That’s.....” he began, but his words were cut off once more as a tendril wrapped around his face, and others around his waist and chest. He couldn’t talk - and breathing became difficult. He forced an inhale around the feelers, but it was shallow. She was trying to kill him - and she’d kill Watanuki, too, if he didn’t break free. He had to stay alive, not just for himself, but to protect the one he’d brought with him. He would not be responsible for Watanuki’s death, not after narrowly saving his life not a month before.
“So don’t pretend you don’t know me!” she wailed. “I can’t hear it! You can leave me to die, betray me, go live out your days with another woman, but please - please don’t pretend that I never happened!” She drew a deep, shuddering breath, as Ichigo fought the constricting pressure around his chest for air.
The suspended pilot caught a glimpse of Watanuki out of the corner of his eye, watching with increasing agitation as the centipede-creature reached a tentacle out around Watanuki’s waist, pulling him towards the woman, so that his face was a foot away from her grotesque mask. “Don’t get in my way,” she said - this was a warning. Maybe she won’t kill him, Ichigo thought. She didn’t seem to harbor any murderous intent towards Watanuki, but then again, she was a spirit, and Ichigo knew his and Watanuki’s spirit-attracting powers far too well. She might decide to eat him anyway, or feed him to her pet. He couldn’t assume anything. Run, he thought. Get out of here. Don’t throw yourself into a situation you can’t get me out of. You can call for help. You can get out of here. Why the hell aren’t you running?
But as his head started to spin, Ichigo realized: he would not have run in Watanuki’s situation. He should have known, he thought. Watanuki wasn’t offering himself up as a replacement, he was arguing for Ichigo, trying to get through to this woman - Ichigo would have tackled the problem with a similar attitude. This confirmed something that Ichigo had thought about Watanuki since the plane incident: the kid was brave. Stupid, sometimes, and he’d been more self-sacrificing last time than Ichigo would have liked, but when it came down to it, Watanuki had guts. As much as it pissed him off, he knew that Watanuki would not leave as long as there was a chance of getting Ichigo out. Even if Watanuki couldn’t fight, he wasn’t going to give up.
Ichigo could understand that. Maybe even respect it.
But it didn’t mean he was about to give up, either.
Watanuki couldn't help from crying out in surprise at the sudden presence of the tendril around his waist, yanking him closer to the woman's pale face. Up close he didn't know how he'd ever thought she might be human - she was so pale she was almost translucent, and her hollow, sunken eyes couldn't be a product of this world.
But even though she had Ichigo strung up overhead and murderous intent in her glare, he couldn't help but feel a flash of pity for her-- it wasn't fair that anyone should have to die alone out here. "That's... that's terrible," he said. "You didn't deserve that. Nobody would. But he's not the man who betrayed you." Dammit, Ichigo was going distressingly quiet. "We've never been in these mountains before. He might look like that man, but I promise, he's not the same person." Something occurred to him - there was almost nothing human left about this poor woman. She couldn't have been abandoned only a little while ago. "How long have you been here?" Watanuki asked quietly, suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of how lonely and desolate this place was. How long had she been storing up this bitterness against Ichigo's look-alike?
“Two hundred years.” she intoned, long hair whipping around her face in the wind. One moment she was furious, the next she was distraught. One thing was clear, though: she wasn’t listening to reason, because despite it being perfectly obvious that Ichigo was not the man she loved and hated, she did not release him. He was still breathing, though each successive breath required greater effort. He coughed around the tendril wrapped around his face, fighting to remain lucid. If there was a chance to get out of this, Ichigo knew he had to take it. His eyes flicked down to Zangetsu, wishing Watanuki was free. What was the kid doing....? Was he talking to her? Ichigo wanted to yell, tell him to get free and use his sword to cut him down, but he couldn’t work up the strength to bite down hard enough. He tried, of course, and the tentacle shuddered, but stayed in place. All that happened was that dark, chill, foul blood began to flow into Ichigo’s mouth, choking him. He focused on breathing through his nose - easier said than done, considering his current situation - and staying conscious.
He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. He wasn’t giving up, but there wasn’t anything he could do in this situation. Dammit, what was Watanuki doing?!
"Two hundred--!" Watanuki gaped for a moment. Two hundred years alone out here... that was no way for anybody to exist, even a vindictive banshee. "But... he's been dead more than a hundred years!" he said. "He can't hurt you anymore. Isn't it worse to keep chasing after the past when you have eternity to find somebody else to make you happy?"
"Somebody..." she trailed off, surprised. It sounded like the idea was completely foreign to her. "Somebody else? But why? The past is all I have," she said. "Why should I let it go?"
Ichigo concentrated on breathing. This was when he wished he had a comrade, he thought, like one of the other mercenaries on the Amdadeus. If he'd had just one of them at his back, he could have taken this thing. Ichigo wasn't used to fighting monsters alone -- the best fighting was always done back-to-back with someone you trusted.
Did he trust Watanuki? Ichigo wasn't sure. Watanuki wasn't the kind of person he'd usually want with him in a fight. But something told him that Watanuki wasn't about to let him die. So he worked the blood out of his mouth and breathed as best he could, fighting the pressure on his chest. He'd better know what he's doing, Ichigo thought, ignoring the spots of black in his vision.
"Because... because you still have the future," Watanuki said. "You can't let your past stop you from being happy now! It didn't stop him! Why should you have to sacrifice your happiness when he was the one who left you behind?" He found himself speaking fervently, feeling more than a little bit of sympathy for the banshee. The thought of being left to die out here - cold, alone, and abandoned, with the dying realization that no one was coming - made something in him contstrict with almost empathetic fear.
"What are you saying, boy?" she demanded. "Are you telling me to forget about him? About the man who I gave up everything for, who left me to die?!" Her voice rose in pitch and volume, and her dress billowed around her. "If he had loved me -- he should have died, too! He should have searched and searched until he collapsed! I would have done it for HIM!" she wailed. "Why didn't he die for me?!"
Though he was still confined and slipping from consciousness, Ichigo stirred at that. He'd heard all of this, heard Watanuki trying to talk the creature down, and there was something he wanted to say here. He wanted to tell her how wrong she was, that her fiancee or whatever he was had probably loved her, and had wanted her to see him happy. He'd seen spirits like this, who got the wrong idea when their loved ones moved on. He remembered a brother, driven mad from loneliness, who had wanted his sister to die.
But he couldn't move. He couldn't speak around the tentacle in his mouth. All he could manage was a low growl -- dammit, he needed to talk! But his strength was fading. Breathing was a colossal effort.
....as much as he hated it, Watanuki was the one who had to handle this. And he had to believe that Watanuki could do it.
"Well, maybe-- maybe-- it could have been a misunderstanding!" Watanuki said desperately. "Maybe he thought you had found your way to safety! Maybe he only stopped searching because he knew that if he died you'd be sad!" This line of thought-- it reminded him of-- no, never mind, that wasn't important now. He ignored the sudden twinge in his right eye and continued. "Don't you think he'd be sad to see you still pining over him? If he loved you, he probably would have wanted you to move on and be happy!"
"Maybe, maybe, maybe." But something stirred in her countenance -- as dry and stretched and sickly as it was, something changed. "You truly think that that is why he left me behind and found his happiness elsewhere?" Her voice was still rough, still angry.
"Well-- when you love someone-- don't you want them to be happy?" Watanuki asked.
She stared at him. "Yes....but....." Her voice held increasing uncertainty. "That...cannot be right....he...."
"So I'm sure he thought that if he was able to move on and find happiness, you would be able to rest in peace." Watanuki smiled. "Most people believe that restless ghosts can't move on... so he was probably just trying to help you."
Her fevered eyes showed conflict and doubt. "Help...me." As she spoke, her voice softened, and so did her skin. It gained something back -- while it could not be called life, her skin was no longer stretched thin and dry across her cheekbones. No, it returned to a normal color, and her eyes calmed as well, leaving a diminished and sad-looking woman standing in the snow, wearing a white shift. Her grey eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She trembled, like a leaf in the wind, before soaring over to Watanuki and throwing her arms around him. Ethereal tears poured down her face, leaving no traces on his shirt.
The creature loosened its hold on Ichigo, who fell down into the snow with an undiginified thump, detracting slightly from the moment. His coughs didn't help much -- he gasped, getting used to uninhibited breathing again.
The woman's arms were cold enough to make Watanuki start, and his heart jumped at the sudden close contact with the spirit; but he allowed her to hold him for a moment, reaching up to put a hand briefly on her shoulder. He was happy for her, and unutterably relieved.
After a moment he stepped back from her embrace as politely as he could manage. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied, pulling back as well, but keeping her icy hands on his shoulders. "I'm not quite sure I believe you. But....to say things like that to me....you are a very kind boy." She smiled -- and it was like the difference between thunderclouds and a sunny sky. Suddenly, she was beautiful again, her deep brown hair blowing gently around her. "I am glad I met you."
Meanwhile, Ichigo had stopped coughing, and was engaged in getting the foul blood out of his mouth. He spat out as much as he could, and wiped his mouth with his jacket-sleeve. Ugh. That'd been disgusting. He picked himself up out of the snow and dusted the crystals off his pants before looking at Watanuki. Huh, the kid did a good job. Ichigo wasn't quite sure he believed it -- had Watanuki really just talked down a crazed banshee? But from the looks of it, he had. Well, what did you know. He waded over and picked his sword up again, then slowly approached. He still needed to get some of her hair -- he hoped Watanuki hadn't forgotten about why they came. Could he talk her into giving some up....?
Watanuki smiled at her. "No," he began, "It's all right--"
He heard Ichigo's footsteps and glanced behind him. Relief flooded him when he saw Ichigo alive and walking-- and then sudden remembrance of why they had come here in the first place. He turned back to the banshee, his face earnest, and put a hand over one of hers. "Excuse me," he said, "I know this is kind of a strange request-- but would you mind terribly giving us... just a little bit of your hair?" Spirits tended to know about the rules of repayment, so the request wasn't quite as strange as it would have sounded to a human, but Watanuki was still wary of angering her again.
"My hair?" she asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise as her hands went to her tresses. Slim, translucent fingers closed around a fistful, and she hesitated for a moment.
"It's to help someone," Ichigo added. "A girl who's lost her memory." His voice was hoarse but steady.
"Perhaps it would be kinder to leave her without her memory," the banshee -- no, the young woman -- said, eyes downcast. "Then she would forget anyone who's hurt her."
"She wants her memory back," Watanuki said. He hadn't spoken to Rhyme about this personally, but... he thought maybe he could see where she might be coming from. "I guess... bad memories or good ones, they're still hers."
"She's got a brother who she can't remember," Ichigo added. "It's important to her to get them back."
The banshee looked from one to the other, then closed her eyes and nodded. "You said such kind things to me. If this hair is what you ask in return, then....I will give it." She pulled a small, crooked dagger out of the bodice of her dress, gathered her hair up and sliced it cleanly, leaving her with two-foot-long strands in one hand and hair that only came down to her shoulders. "Here. And perhaps this outward sign will help me to change, as well." She smiled brightly again as she carefully laid the hair in Watanuki's hand. It blew in the slight breeze, obviosly far lighter than normal hair. It would billow with the slightest agitation, more like a strand of spiderweb than human locks.
Watanuki held on to the hair carefully as he bowed his goodbye. "Thank you," he said. "I... I hope everything goes well for you." He smiled at her, the hairs in his hand fighting against his tightly curled fingers in the breeze.
A small blush colored her cheeks as she smiled back. "And I you."
With that, she rose from the ground, borne upwards and away by the wind. Her centipede bolted off into the mountains, as she disappeared in the direction of the town.
Ichigo stared after her. If he had been the kind of guy to notice that kind of thing, and had been the kind of guy to tease about it as well, he would have made some comment about the tell-tale blush. However, when it came to delicate matters of the heart, Ichigo was as perceptive as a brick. "I bet she knew the whole time I wasn't that guy," he grumbled. He did notice that she was far more friendly to Watanuki than to him, and he didn't get so much as an apology for being nearly choked. Banshees were the latest on the list of things Ichigo disliked, just below chocobos. "But at least we got the hair, right?"
Watanuki had been distracted watching the banshee disappear, wondering what he had done to change her appearance so drastically. He'd noticed her blush but it hadn't occurred to him that he might be the cause. He wondered what she'd do now, if she'd move on or find somebody in the afterlife...
It took Ichigo's words to make him register that he was still behind him. He turned and looked back at Ichigo. "Huh?" he said. "...Oh. Yeah." He moved toward Ichigo, still keeping a careful grip on the strands.
It suddenly occurred to him that Ichigo had just spent a good few minutes dangling, half-suffocated, in the tentacles of a giant centipede not five minutes after a plane crash. Watanuki had been too caught up in talking down the banshee to remember. "Are-- are you all right?" he asked gruffly, trying to sound like it was entirely Ichigo's fault that all of this had happened in the first place. He didn't need Ichigo thinking he was going looking for thanks or anything.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ichigo replied. He’d have some nasty bruises on his chest, but nothing felt broken. He glanced over Watanuki, and noticed for the first time the shrapnel in the other’s arm. “Wait, what’re you doing asking me if I’m hurt?” he demanded, moving closer and grabbing Watanuki’s arm to get a closer look. He’d have to get Watanuki back-
…oh, right, they couldn’t get back, Zangetsu was down. “Let’s get back to the plane, I’m going to radio for help.”
"Ow!" Watanuki cried as Ichigo grabbed his arm. He stared at the shrapnel and the blood staining the fabric of his coat sleeve and tried to remember noticing before that he was wounded. ...Oh, yeah, he'd noticed it when the plane first went down, but he hadn't had time to think about it because then Ichigo had been snatched and he'd had to to convince the banshee not to kill both of them. It started hurting as soon as he started thinking about it, and he couldn't conceal a wince as he pulled his arm back from Ichigo.
"Good idea," he said, turning to follow him. "It's not that bad. It'll... probably be fine until the Winding Way comes for us." Honestly, it still hurt, but he wasn't going to be the one to start complaining when their situation was much worse than a cut arm.
Ichigo turned and began to wade back to the plane, following the furrow he’d made when he’d been dragged off. Why hadn’t Watanuki said anything? Ichigo wondered irritably. He’d just dealt with a banshee without a word of complaint, and then asked if Ichigo was okay? “Say something next time,” he admonished. Mentally, Ichigo went through the contents of the first-aid kit he’d put in his plane after the incident in the racecourse. He didn’t have anything to deaden pain; there hadn’t been room for it. It sucked, but the kid would just have to hold on until they were picked up.
He just hoped Zangetsu’s radio still worked.
"I'm sorry I didn't mention anything while you were dangling upside down!" Watanuki snapped, struggling through the snow in Ichigo's furrow. "I thought we had more important things to think about! Besides, it's not going to kill me before we get picked up!"
Watanuki had no experience with survival situations that didn't involve alternate dimensions or crossings between worlds; plain old surviving a night in the mountains was way outside his realm of knowledge. He knew nothing about the consequences of an injury up here; as far as he was concerned, it could sit for a few hours, until help inevitably arrived.
"I wasn't upside down," Ichigo griped. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have pressed this point, but this was Watanuki, the guy who thought a near-fatal wound to himself was less important than a scratch on someone else.
And it would be hours, Ichigo realized. They were far enough away that it'd be hours until they could be picked up. He sighed. He'd probably have to take the shrapnel out and clean the wound before help arrived. Luckily, he had enough experience as a field medic to be confident in his ability to do it.
They reached the plane with little incident. "Stay there," Ichigo said, and climbed up into the cockpit, testing the radio out. Good, it was fairly intact. "This is Ichigo Kurosaki, calling the Winding Way -- or any ships in the area who can help. There was a monster attack, and my plane's down. I'm stranded in the mountains northwest of Tulgim, and I've got a passenger who's wounded. He's not critical, but I'd like to get him out of here as soon as possible. I repeat: my plane's down northwest of Tulgim, and I have an injured passenger."
Little as Watanuki liked being ordered around by Ichigo - where the hell else was he going to go, anyway?! - he could appreciate the need to make a radio call. So he stood and waited, wounded arm carefully elevated, until Ichigo raised his head from the tranceiver.
"Can anybody hear us?" he called up to Ichigo.
"I'm not getting anybody!" Ichigo shouted back down. "Hang on, I'm gonna try the network!" He climbed over to Zangetsu's stern, reaching into the small space where things could be stored. He pulled out the padded bag that held his difference engine (he had taken Rikku's advice from a while ago and brought it with him) and opened it, hoping it still worked.
It did. Ichigo repeated what he'd said before into the journal, posting it, and waited, eyes on the machine, ears listening to the radio, which was picking up nothing but white noise. Maybe they were too far out in the mountains for it to work....? But the difference engine did.....
"Any luck?" Watanuki called. It was getting colder standing in one place, and the tear in his coat made by the shrapnel in his arm sent the cold breeze right underneath his winter clothes. "D-do they even put radio towers up here?"
Damn. His teeth were starting to chatter. He moved closer to the plane, trying to get out of the wind.
"Yeah, I've got someone!" Ichigo replied. "It's Rikku!" Turning back to the difference engine, he played Rikku's worried voice -- Ichigo? Not again! What's wrong? Who's hurt? Are there monsters? Frowning, he replied, "It's Watanuki. He caught a piece of shrapnel in his arm when the plane went down. It's not too bad -- I should be able to get it out here and bandage it up without any real problems." He paused. "And....uh. Well, there was a monster. It's taken care of for now, though."
A moment later, she replied -- and he sent a response back, about the damage to Zangetsu. But then Ichigo noticed someone else had posted, the person he had talked to about summer banshes. Hadn't he been in the races, too? So he had a plane.... "I can't reach Ryuzaki, but there's someone else who says he'll come get us," Ichigo said, turning to talk to Watanuki on the ground.
That was a relief. "Good," Watanuki said, slumping against the plane in relief. "How long until they get here?”
Ichigo typed furiously. "He said he'd leave right away, but I don't think that's a good idea. By the time they get here, it'll be pitch black, and I don't have a flare or anything to make a signal fire." All the wood around them was too damp to burn, thanks to the snow. "He's going to have to wait until tomorrow morning."
He sat back and regarded the screen, making a mental note to thank Rikku when he got back.
"All-- all night?!" Watanuki stared at Ichigo. "How the hell are we supposed to survive out here all night?! It's already getting colder and the sun's not even gone yet! Are you hiding a tent and boiler somewhere I'm not seeing-- ow!" He'd been about to start flailing, but this was difficult to do with a piece of shrapnel in one's arm. The wound that did not take kindly to being flailed and reacted by bleeding more.
Watanuki dropped his arm and held it close to his body with the other. "...Anyway, we-- there's-- there's no way we'll survive the night like this!"
Content: Previously, on Ichigo and Watanuki's Magical Adventures, they flew out in search of a banshee to scalp, but were attacked by her pet tentacle-centipede and crashed. Now, they must fight said centipede, and talk down an angry banshee....who seems to recognize one of them! OH, THE DRAMA~
Setting: The mountains north of Tulgim
Time: Baaaaaackdated to the mine collapse! Late, late afternoon
Warnings: Standard language, tsundere, blood and tentacle warnings (not kidding about those tentacles)
Notes: Part 1 of the log can be found here. We weren't kidding when we said this log was long.
“You," the woman said. As they got closer, they could see that her face was sunken, hollow, with the skin stretched tight over her cheekbones and eyes burning with a fevered light. She was addressing Ichigo, who was being held in the air by all four limbs, each with at least one tendril wrapped around it. "You came back."
Ichigo, who had been struggling for all he was worth, stared at her in confusion. Who was this? "I don't know what you're talking about!" he said. "Let me go!" He twisted again, but the creature's appendages only wrapped tighter around his wrists and ankles. His sword had been pulled out of his hand, and stuck uselessly out of the snow a few yards away. The creature itself was standing beside the woman, a mass of tentacles and crablike legs on a centipede's body.
"You came back," she repeated, unmistakable anger rising in her voice. "Do you know how long I waited? Do you know how painful it was to lie here, waiting for you, you who never came? How could you," she rasped, voice growing less human with each word.
At a distance of fifty feet, Watanuki could already see that this woman wasn't human. Even next to the monster's aura, she positively glowed with an otherwordly radiance against the snow. She seemed only half there.
He stopped in front of her, hunched against the mere thought of the tentacles above his head, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Ichigo to make sure he wasn't dead yet. "Wait!" he cried, flinging out his arms uselessly, as though he could stop her that way. "You've got the wrong person!"
Ichigo stared down at him in shock. "What the hell are you doing, you idiot?! Get out of here!" What was he doing, jumping into a situation like this? Watanuki couldn't fight! This was suicide! If he had stayed back, maybe he wouldn't have attracted attention, and could have called for help--!
This was bad. This was really bad. He had to calm down, and think -- there had to be a way out of this. Watanuki's presence had redoubled Ichigo's efforts to free himself from the monster's grip. He had to get loose, had to get the guy out of here....!
The woman, however, stared down at him impassively, her long, tangled, wild hair whipping in a cold wind off the mountains. "This is he," she said. "Out of my way. I want to deal with him myself."
"Are you deaf?!" Ichigo yelled. "Get out of h--mmph!" His sentence was cut off as another tendril wrapped around his mouth, gagging him.
"No!" Watanuki took a step toward the woman and halted, wary of making her angrier. "That's not-- we've never been here before!" He heard Ichigo's words cut off and feared imminent death by strangulation.
Dammit, they weren't going to die out here! Not like this! He changed tack desperately. "Please-- who are you looking for? Who do you think he is?" As long as he kept her talking, she didn't seem to be attacking.
"I've found him," she replied. "He is the man I once loved." Her eyes were still wild, still feverish, but their expression was tinged with sorrow. "Who I thought loved me. But then he left me here," the woman said bitterly, eyes angry again. "He left me out here to die!"
Behind Watanuki, Ichigo bit down on the tendril, and bit hard. Foreign, foul-tasting blood filled his mouth, but the tentacle uncurled from his face. Fighting the urge to gag, he spat out a mouthful of the blood, then turned to face the woman. "I don't know what you're talking about, lady, but I've never seen you before in my life!"
Fevered eyes narrowed. "You would also deny knowing me?" she rasped. "You must remember. Who would forget the woman you promised your heart to, and who was punished for it! When my father stranded me in these mountains, you never came for me!" Her volume increased, until it was a piercing shriek. "Have your wife and children truly dulled your memory? Were you so eager to replace me in your heart that your memories have faded as well?!"
Ichigo could only stare, so stupefied by her conviction that he stopped twisting to get free. Who the hell did she think he was? Some ex-lover who had left her to die? But that shriek sounded like a banshee's wail. Was she what they'd been looking for?
Just their luck, he thought, to find a banshee who thought Ichigo was someone she'd known, and want to kill him for it.
The woman's wails grated on Watanuki's ears, but he resisted the urge to cover them. "Please!" he said, taking another step toward her. He heard Ichigo's shouts, but ignored them - they didn't have time to argue about what Watanuki should be doing. "This is a misunderstanding!" She obviously wasn't going to believe him - how the hell was he supposed to make her realize that Ichigo wasn't the one she was looking for?
Looking at her, he could tell she was no longer human, but she didn't have the feel of a ghost, either. "Please tell me-- did you-- did you die here?" he asked. For all that he was scared out of his wits, there was genuine concern in the question - both for Ichigo's plight far above him and, strangely, for hers. Had she really been left to die out here in these frigid mountains?
She stared down at him, eyes simmering with rage. "Yes," she said. "My father found out that I had been with him, and stranded me here as a punishment. I was promised to someone else, and this was a betrayal of my fiancee. But he told me we could run away. He told me he would find me. But he didn't." Her mouth was a thin line, framed by stretched, unhealthy skin. "He stopped looking before he found me. I was still alive when he turned back. When I died, I followed him -- but he never saw me. He met someone else, and married her, and --" She broke off, sorrow in her voice.
"I was the one betrayed, not my father. He never even missed me. My death must have been fortunate," the woman said bitterly.
Ichigo stared, agape. “That’s.....” he began, but his words were cut off once more as a tendril wrapped around his face, and others around his waist and chest. He couldn’t talk - and breathing became difficult. He forced an inhale around the feelers, but it was shallow. She was trying to kill him - and she’d kill Watanuki, too, if he didn’t break free. He had to stay alive, not just for himself, but to protect the one he’d brought with him. He would not be responsible for Watanuki’s death, not after narrowly saving his life not a month before.
“So don’t pretend you don’t know me!” she wailed. “I can’t hear it! You can leave me to die, betray me, go live out your days with another woman, but please - please don’t pretend that I never happened!” She drew a deep, shuddering breath, as Ichigo fought the constricting pressure around his chest for air.
The suspended pilot caught a glimpse of Watanuki out of the corner of his eye, watching with increasing agitation as the centipede-creature reached a tentacle out around Watanuki’s waist, pulling him towards the woman, so that his face was a foot away from her grotesque mask. “Don’t get in my way,” she said - this was a warning. Maybe she won’t kill him, Ichigo thought. She didn’t seem to harbor any murderous intent towards Watanuki, but then again, she was a spirit, and Ichigo knew his and Watanuki’s spirit-attracting powers far too well. She might decide to eat him anyway, or feed him to her pet. He couldn’t assume anything. Run, he thought. Get out of here. Don’t throw yourself into a situation you can’t get me out of. You can call for help. You can get out of here. Why the hell aren’t you running?
But as his head started to spin, Ichigo realized: he would not have run in Watanuki’s situation. He should have known, he thought. Watanuki wasn’t offering himself up as a replacement, he was arguing for Ichigo, trying to get through to this woman - Ichigo would have tackled the problem with a similar attitude. This confirmed something that Ichigo had thought about Watanuki since the plane incident: the kid was brave. Stupid, sometimes, and he’d been more self-sacrificing last time than Ichigo would have liked, but when it came down to it, Watanuki had guts. As much as it pissed him off, he knew that Watanuki would not leave as long as there was a chance of getting Ichigo out. Even if Watanuki couldn’t fight, he wasn’t going to give up.
Ichigo could understand that. Maybe even respect it.
But it didn’t mean he was about to give up, either.
Watanuki couldn't help from crying out in surprise at the sudden presence of the tendril around his waist, yanking him closer to the woman's pale face. Up close he didn't know how he'd ever thought she might be human - she was so pale she was almost translucent, and her hollow, sunken eyes couldn't be a product of this world.
But even though she had Ichigo strung up overhead and murderous intent in her glare, he couldn't help but feel a flash of pity for her-- it wasn't fair that anyone should have to die alone out here. "That's... that's terrible," he said. "You didn't deserve that. Nobody would. But he's not the man who betrayed you." Dammit, Ichigo was going distressingly quiet. "We've never been in these mountains before. He might look like that man, but I promise, he's not the same person." Something occurred to him - there was almost nothing human left about this poor woman. She couldn't have been abandoned only a little while ago. "How long have you been here?" Watanuki asked quietly, suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of how lonely and desolate this place was. How long had she been storing up this bitterness against Ichigo's look-alike?
“Two hundred years.” she intoned, long hair whipping around her face in the wind. One moment she was furious, the next she was distraught. One thing was clear, though: she wasn’t listening to reason, because despite it being perfectly obvious that Ichigo was not the man she loved and hated, she did not release him. He was still breathing, though each successive breath required greater effort. He coughed around the tendril wrapped around his face, fighting to remain lucid. If there was a chance to get out of this, Ichigo knew he had to take it. His eyes flicked down to Zangetsu, wishing Watanuki was free. What was the kid doing....? Was he talking to her? Ichigo wanted to yell, tell him to get free and use his sword to cut him down, but he couldn’t work up the strength to bite down hard enough. He tried, of course, and the tentacle shuddered, but stayed in place. All that happened was that dark, chill, foul blood began to flow into Ichigo’s mouth, choking him. He focused on breathing through his nose - easier said than done, considering his current situation - and staying conscious.
He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. He wasn’t giving up, but there wasn’t anything he could do in this situation. Dammit, what was Watanuki doing?!
"Two hundred--!" Watanuki gaped for a moment. Two hundred years alone out here... that was no way for anybody to exist, even a vindictive banshee. "But... he's been dead more than a hundred years!" he said. "He can't hurt you anymore. Isn't it worse to keep chasing after the past when you have eternity to find somebody else to make you happy?"
"Somebody..." she trailed off, surprised. It sounded like the idea was completely foreign to her. "Somebody else? But why? The past is all I have," she said. "Why should I let it go?"
Ichigo concentrated on breathing. This was when he wished he had a comrade, he thought, like one of the other mercenaries on the Amdadeus. If he'd had just one of them at his back, he could have taken this thing. Ichigo wasn't used to fighting monsters alone -- the best fighting was always done back-to-back with someone you trusted.
Did he trust Watanuki? Ichigo wasn't sure. Watanuki wasn't the kind of person he'd usually want with him in a fight. But something told him that Watanuki wasn't about to let him die. So he worked the blood out of his mouth and breathed as best he could, fighting the pressure on his chest. He'd better know what he's doing, Ichigo thought, ignoring the spots of black in his vision.
"Because... because you still have the future," Watanuki said. "You can't let your past stop you from being happy now! It didn't stop him! Why should you have to sacrifice your happiness when he was the one who left you behind?" He found himself speaking fervently, feeling more than a little bit of sympathy for the banshee. The thought of being left to die out here - cold, alone, and abandoned, with the dying realization that no one was coming - made something in him contstrict with almost empathetic fear.
"What are you saying, boy?" she demanded. "Are you telling me to forget about him? About the man who I gave up everything for, who left me to die?!" Her voice rose in pitch and volume, and her dress billowed around her. "If he had loved me -- he should have died, too! He should have searched and searched until he collapsed! I would have done it for HIM!" she wailed. "Why didn't he die for me?!"
Though he was still confined and slipping from consciousness, Ichigo stirred at that. He'd heard all of this, heard Watanuki trying to talk the creature down, and there was something he wanted to say here. He wanted to tell her how wrong she was, that her fiancee or whatever he was had probably loved her, and had wanted her to see him happy. He'd seen spirits like this, who got the wrong idea when their loved ones moved on. He remembered a brother, driven mad from loneliness, who had wanted his sister to die.
But he couldn't move. He couldn't speak around the tentacle in his mouth. All he could manage was a low growl -- dammit, he needed to talk! But his strength was fading. Breathing was a colossal effort.
....as much as he hated it, Watanuki was the one who had to handle this. And he had to believe that Watanuki could do it.
"Well, maybe-- maybe-- it could have been a misunderstanding!" Watanuki said desperately. "Maybe he thought you had found your way to safety! Maybe he only stopped searching because he knew that if he died you'd be sad!" This line of thought-- it reminded him of-- no, never mind, that wasn't important now. He ignored the sudden twinge in his right eye and continued. "Don't you think he'd be sad to see you still pining over him? If he loved you, he probably would have wanted you to move on and be happy!"
"Maybe, maybe, maybe." But something stirred in her countenance -- as dry and stretched and sickly as it was, something changed. "You truly think that that is why he left me behind and found his happiness elsewhere?" Her voice was still rough, still angry.
"Well-- when you love someone-- don't you want them to be happy?" Watanuki asked.
She stared at him. "Yes....but....." Her voice held increasing uncertainty. "That...cannot be right....he...."
"So I'm sure he thought that if he was able to move on and find happiness, you would be able to rest in peace." Watanuki smiled. "Most people believe that restless ghosts can't move on... so he was probably just trying to help you."
Her fevered eyes showed conflict and doubt. "Help...me." As she spoke, her voice softened, and so did her skin. It gained something back -- while it could not be called life, her skin was no longer stretched thin and dry across her cheekbones. No, it returned to a normal color, and her eyes calmed as well, leaving a diminished and sad-looking woman standing in the snow, wearing a white shift. Her grey eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She trembled, like a leaf in the wind, before soaring over to Watanuki and throwing her arms around him. Ethereal tears poured down her face, leaving no traces on his shirt.
The creature loosened its hold on Ichigo, who fell down into the snow with an undiginified thump, detracting slightly from the moment. His coughs didn't help much -- he gasped, getting used to uninhibited breathing again.
The woman's arms were cold enough to make Watanuki start, and his heart jumped at the sudden close contact with the spirit; but he allowed her to hold him for a moment, reaching up to put a hand briefly on her shoulder. He was happy for her, and unutterably relieved.
After a moment he stepped back from her embrace as politely as he could manage. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied, pulling back as well, but keeping her icy hands on his shoulders. "I'm not quite sure I believe you. But....to say things like that to me....you are a very kind boy." She smiled -- and it was like the difference between thunderclouds and a sunny sky. Suddenly, she was beautiful again, her deep brown hair blowing gently around her. "I am glad I met you."
Meanwhile, Ichigo had stopped coughing, and was engaged in getting the foul blood out of his mouth. He spat out as much as he could, and wiped his mouth with his jacket-sleeve. Ugh. That'd been disgusting. He picked himself up out of the snow and dusted the crystals off his pants before looking at Watanuki. Huh, the kid did a good job. Ichigo wasn't quite sure he believed it -- had Watanuki really just talked down a crazed banshee? But from the looks of it, he had. Well, what did you know. He waded over and picked his sword up again, then slowly approached. He still needed to get some of her hair -- he hoped Watanuki hadn't forgotten about why they came. Could he talk her into giving some up....?
Watanuki smiled at her. "No," he began, "It's all right--"
He heard Ichigo's footsteps and glanced behind him. Relief flooded him when he saw Ichigo alive and walking-- and then sudden remembrance of why they had come here in the first place. He turned back to the banshee, his face earnest, and put a hand over one of hers. "Excuse me," he said, "I know this is kind of a strange request-- but would you mind terribly giving us... just a little bit of your hair?" Spirits tended to know about the rules of repayment, so the request wasn't quite as strange as it would have sounded to a human, but Watanuki was still wary of angering her again.
"My hair?" she asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise as her hands went to her tresses. Slim, translucent fingers closed around a fistful, and she hesitated for a moment.
"It's to help someone," Ichigo added. "A girl who's lost her memory." His voice was hoarse but steady.
"Perhaps it would be kinder to leave her without her memory," the banshee -- no, the young woman -- said, eyes downcast. "Then she would forget anyone who's hurt her."
"She wants her memory back," Watanuki said. He hadn't spoken to Rhyme about this personally, but... he thought maybe he could see where she might be coming from. "I guess... bad memories or good ones, they're still hers."
"She's got a brother who she can't remember," Ichigo added. "It's important to her to get them back."
The banshee looked from one to the other, then closed her eyes and nodded. "You said such kind things to me. If this hair is what you ask in return, then....I will give it." She pulled a small, crooked dagger out of the bodice of her dress, gathered her hair up and sliced it cleanly, leaving her with two-foot-long strands in one hand and hair that only came down to her shoulders. "Here. And perhaps this outward sign will help me to change, as well." She smiled brightly again as she carefully laid the hair in Watanuki's hand. It blew in the slight breeze, obviosly far lighter than normal hair. It would billow with the slightest agitation, more like a strand of spiderweb than human locks.
Watanuki held on to the hair carefully as he bowed his goodbye. "Thank you," he said. "I... I hope everything goes well for you." He smiled at her, the hairs in his hand fighting against his tightly curled fingers in the breeze.
A small blush colored her cheeks as she smiled back. "And I you."
With that, she rose from the ground, borne upwards and away by the wind. Her centipede bolted off into the mountains, as she disappeared in the direction of the town.
Ichigo stared after her. If he had been the kind of guy to notice that kind of thing, and had been the kind of guy to tease about it as well, he would have made some comment about the tell-tale blush. However, when it came to delicate matters of the heart, Ichigo was as perceptive as a brick. "I bet she knew the whole time I wasn't that guy," he grumbled. He did notice that she was far more friendly to Watanuki than to him, and he didn't get so much as an apology for being nearly choked. Banshees were the latest on the list of things Ichigo disliked, just below chocobos. "But at least we got the hair, right?"
Watanuki had been distracted watching the banshee disappear, wondering what he had done to change her appearance so drastically. He'd noticed her blush but it hadn't occurred to him that he might be the cause. He wondered what she'd do now, if she'd move on or find somebody in the afterlife...
It took Ichigo's words to make him register that he was still behind him. He turned and looked back at Ichigo. "Huh?" he said. "...Oh. Yeah." He moved toward Ichigo, still keeping a careful grip on the strands.
It suddenly occurred to him that Ichigo had just spent a good few minutes dangling, half-suffocated, in the tentacles of a giant centipede not five minutes after a plane crash. Watanuki had been too caught up in talking down the banshee to remember. "Are-- are you all right?" he asked gruffly, trying to sound like it was entirely Ichigo's fault that all of this had happened in the first place. He didn't need Ichigo thinking he was going looking for thanks or anything.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ichigo replied. He’d have some nasty bruises on his chest, but nothing felt broken. He glanced over Watanuki, and noticed for the first time the shrapnel in the other’s arm. “Wait, what’re you doing asking me if I’m hurt?” he demanded, moving closer and grabbing Watanuki’s arm to get a closer look. He’d have to get Watanuki back-
…oh, right, they couldn’t get back, Zangetsu was down. “Let’s get back to the plane, I’m going to radio for help.”
"Ow!" Watanuki cried as Ichigo grabbed his arm. He stared at the shrapnel and the blood staining the fabric of his coat sleeve and tried to remember noticing before that he was wounded. ...Oh, yeah, he'd noticed it when the plane first went down, but he hadn't had time to think about it because then Ichigo had been snatched and he'd had to to convince the banshee not to kill both of them. It started hurting as soon as he started thinking about it, and he couldn't conceal a wince as he pulled his arm back from Ichigo.
"Good idea," he said, turning to follow him. "It's not that bad. It'll... probably be fine until the Winding Way comes for us." Honestly, it still hurt, but he wasn't going to be the one to start complaining when their situation was much worse than a cut arm.
Ichigo turned and began to wade back to the plane, following the furrow he’d made when he’d been dragged off. Why hadn’t Watanuki said anything? Ichigo wondered irritably. He’d just dealt with a banshee without a word of complaint, and then asked if Ichigo was okay? “Say something next time,” he admonished. Mentally, Ichigo went through the contents of the first-aid kit he’d put in his plane after the incident in the racecourse. He didn’t have anything to deaden pain; there hadn’t been room for it. It sucked, but the kid would just have to hold on until they were picked up.
He just hoped Zangetsu’s radio still worked.
"I'm sorry I didn't mention anything while you were dangling upside down!" Watanuki snapped, struggling through the snow in Ichigo's furrow. "I thought we had more important things to think about! Besides, it's not going to kill me before we get picked up!"
Watanuki had no experience with survival situations that didn't involve alternate dimensions or crossings between worlds; plain old surviving a night in the mountains was way outside his realm of knowledge. He knew nothing about the consequences of an injury up here; as far as he was concerned, it could sit for a few hours, until help inevitably arrived.
"I wasn't upside down," Ichigo griped. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have pressed this point, but this was Watanuki, the guy who thought a near-fatal wound to himself was less important than a scratch on someone else.
And it would be hours, Ichigo realized. They were far enough away that it'd be hours until they could be picked up. He sighed. He'd probably have to take the shrapnel out and clean the wound before help arrived. Luckily, he had enough experience as a field medic to be confident in his ability to do it.
They reached the plane with little incident. "Stay there," Ichigo said, and climbed up into the cockpit, testing the radio out. Good, it was fairly intact. "This is Ichigo Kurosaki, calling the Winding Way -- or any ships in the area who can help. There was a monster attack, and my plane's down. I'm stranded in the mountains northwest of Tulgim, and I've got a passenger who's wounded. He's not critical, but I'd like to get him out of here as soon as possible. I repeat: my plane's down northwest of Tulgim, and I have an injured passenger."
Little as Watanuki liked being ordered around by Ichigo - where the hell else was he going to go, anyway?! - he could appreciate the need to make a radio call. So he stood and waited, wounded arm carefully elevated, until Ichigo raised his head from the tranceiver.
"Can anybody hear us?" he called up to Ichigo.
"I'm not getting anybody!" Ichigo shouted back down. "Hang on, I'm gonna try the network!" He climbed over to Zangetsu's stern, reaching into the small space where things could be stored. He pulled out the padded bag that held his difference engine (he had taken Rikku's advice from a while ago and brought it with him) and opened it, hoping it still worked.
It did. Ichigo repeated what he'd said before into the journal, posting it, and waited, eyes on the machine, ears listening to the radio, which was picking up nothing but white noise. Maybe they were too far out in the mountains for it to work....? But the difference engine did.....
"Any luck?" Watanuki called. It was getting colder standing in one place, and the tear in his coat made by the shrapnel in his arm sent the cold breeze right underneath his winter clothes. "D-do they even put radio towers up here?"
Damn. His teeth were starting to chatter. He moved closer to the plane, trying to get out of the wind.
"Yeah, I've got someone!" Ichigo replied. "It's Rikku!" Turning back to the difference engine, he played Rikku's worried voice -- Ichigo? Not again! What's wrong? Who's hurt? Are there monsters? Frowning, he replied, "It's Watanuki. He caught a piece of shrapnel in his arm when the plane went down. It's not too bad -- I should be able to get it out here and bandage it up without any real problems." He paused. "And....uh. Well, there was a monster. It's taken care of for now, though."
A moment later, she replied -- and he sent a response back, about the damage to Zangetsu. But then Ichigo noticed someone else had posted, the person he had talked to about summer banshes. Hadn't he been in the races, too? So he had a plane.... "I can't reach Ryuzaki, but there's someone else who says he'll come get us," Ichigo said, turning to talk to Watanuki on the ground.
That was a relief. "Good," Watanuki said, slumping against the plane in relief. "How long until they get here?”
Ichigo typed furiously. "He said he'd leave right away, but I don't think that's a good idea. By the time they get here, it'll be pitch black, and I don't have a flare or anything to make a signal fire." All the wood around them was too damp to burn, thanks to the snow. "He's going to have to wait until tomorrow morning."
He sat back and regarded the screen, making a mental note to thank Rikku when he got back.
"All-- all night?!" Watanuki stared at Ichigo. "How the hell are we supposed to survive out here all night?! It's already getting colder and the sun's not even gone yet! Are you hiding a tent and boiler somewhere I'm not seeing-- ow!" He'd been about to start flailing, but this was difficult to do with a piece of shrapnel in one's arm. The wound that did not take kindly to being flailed and reacted by bleeding more.
Watanuki dropped his arm and held it close to his body with the other. "...Anyway, we-- there's-- there's no way we'll survive the night like this!"