He didn’t realize the bloodcurdling scream echoing in the room was his own as he saw Duo’s head snapping back and blood spattering over his face, the impact of the bullet so forceful that he took a few steps back, staggering.
“Duo, DUO!” Heero rushed forward, but Wufei grabbed him at the arm and pulled him forcefully back.
Duo’s body was angled unnaturally, his face staring at the ceiling, his back arched as if he tried to fold himself backwards. He didn’t move, one hand gripping the scythe tightly, and agonizing slow, he finally brought up his other hand, fingers prying at the bullet between his eyes.
“Dear Lord…” Heero’s face was distorted in terror and disbelief as he saw Duo taking out the bullet, a steady flow of blood trickling over his nose, smearing his cheeks and lips, a maniacal grin on his face.
“Would you look at that,” he said, voice low, as he examined the bullet. “You humans certainly have improved your weaponry over the ages.”
Khushrenada’s eyes darted around like crazy - Duo and the kneeling statue were blocking every way to the exit, and he couldn’t expect much help of his men. All of them were either wounded or had managed to flee before the giant statue obstructed their path. His eyes went back to Heero who was staring at ignored everyone but the stranger in front of him, scythe in his hand.
“Get out of the way,” Merquise said, voice wavering.
“Or else what?” Duo mocked. “You’re going to kill me again?” Snorting, he threw the bullet back at Merquise with a flick of his finger. The man cried out in pain, clutching at his shoulder as blood seeped through his clothing.
“Milliardo!” Khushrenada yanked the scarf he was wearing from his neck, not caring that he had used Merquise’s real name. He pressed the fabric to the wound.
Duo turned towards Heero, the scythe turning with him. The eerie, green glow of the blade diminished a little. He smiled, not minding or not noticing the small flow of blood from the bullet wound, seeping over the bridge of his nose.
“It’s been so long,” he said, voice suddenly soft and filled with longing. “We’re back together again, my love.”
“We’ve never been apart,” Heero answered, lowering his eyes a little.
“No, never,” Duo beamed at him. “No matter how much time has gone by…no matter how many worlds separated us…”
Wufei nudged Heero a little. The man standing behind Merquise and Khushrenada frowned.
“I’m not the one who you think you are,” Heero said. “Please… Duo…”
“What do you mean, my love? We’ve been reunited…reunited by fools, but reunited at last. Isn’t that what we were hoping for?” Duo tilted his head. “The Never-Ending Circle has been completed - life and death, together again. What you give, I take…what I give, you take. We’ve been like this for centuries…eras…eons…until I broke my staff.”
“You’ve always been the one with the temper,” Heero said rather fondly, even though he was pretty sure he wasn’t talking to the real Duo anymore.
“My scythe is whole again now,” Duo agreed. “Why do we not dispose of these losers and return to our work, Inochigami.”
“Shinigami,” Heero said.
“Yes?”
“It’s really you, isn’t it?”
“Inochigami…has your sleep clouded your mind? It has been so long…we have all the time in the world to catch up again, my love.”
“Something is terribly wrong here,” Wufei said, looking miserable.
“No shit,” Heero muttered under his breath, phrasing one of Duo’s favorite lines. Merquise pressed his hand against his shoulder, suppressing the blood flow with help of Khushrenada’s scarf.
“We have to get out of here,” Khushrenada hissed, hovering over Merquise as he spoke.
“We are going nowhere,” a nasal voice echoed through the room, and all heads went into the direction of the man who spoke up for the first time.
“What do you mean?” Khushrenada demanded, but something had changed in his voice. He sounded irritated, anxious and concerned at the same time.
“You promised me the Never-Ending Circle, Treize,” the man continued, “and I want it now.”
“Now is not the time, Quinze,” Khushrenada hissed, his fingers sticky with blood. His pure silk scarf wasn’t the best solution to stop the flow; Merquise hissed in pain.
The man called Quinze stepped forward and pushed his metallic rimmed glasses back on his nose, looking from the statue to Duo to Treize and back to the statue again, before settling on Treize.
“It’s never a good time, isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for the artefact for a long time, Treize. You promised it to me, and the White Fang is in need of an object of power. This is magnificent. I want it.”
“Feel free to take it for yourself,” Khushrenada answered. Quinze barked a hollow laugh. His bony hand went to his back, and he smoothly took out a gun, pointing it at Merquise.
“We had a deal, Treize. You better follow through on it! The Never-Ending Circle, now!”
Khushrenada looked at him furiously, even more so from the casual manner Quinze addressed him with his first name. He moved his arm around Merquise and hoisted him back up on his feet. Except for Quinze and Treize, no one had spoken, and all eyes were fixed on the gun Quinze was holding. Merquise had dropped his when Duo had flung the bullet back at him; it was out of Khushrenada’s reach.
“Inochigami, what is going on? Who are these people?” Duo asked.
“They aren’t important,” Heero was quick to say. “Duo? Where are you?”
“I’m right here,” Duo answered.
“You’re confusing me,” Heero said. He licked his lips.
“I’m right here,” Duo repeated.
“Just keep him occupied,” Khushrenada whispered heatedly, his eyes glaring at the scythe. He yanked at Merquise’s arm, eliciting a cry of pain out of him.
“And where are you going?” Duo crossed one arm in front of his chest, using his other to swing the scythe and stop Khushrenada. The man swallowed heavily as the blade grazed his skin. He could feel blood welling up; this instrument was even sharper than Wufei’s katana. Duo’s movements were too fast to notice; Khushrenada had barely moved, and the blade was already pressing against his skin, just below his chin. One small slice and his artery was open.
“Shinigami,” he tried the strange name, “God of Death…I ask for passage..?”
“You ask?” The low voice carried far in the shrine, obviously amused. “You have a lot of nerve, Treize Khushrenada. You display an arrogance not even I come close to.”
“P-please,” the man protested weakly. “My friend is injured…”
“How many times in your life have you said ‘Please’? Not often, have you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You did well by asking passage for your friend. It honors you, though your main goal is to get yourself, and only yourself, out of here alive.”
“Duo,” Heero tried to call to him again. “Duo, this isn’t you. You never killed, you never reveled in death…”
“Inochigami.” Duo smiled at him. “You give life. I take life. I take the lives of those who aren’t worthy, I take the lives of those who have taken lives, I take the lives of those whose time is up. Justice and honor for those who have fallen at the hands of those who lost the right to live the moment they started thinking about murder.”
“Murder…” Khushrenada repeated, his eyes growing wide. Winner. He snapped his head back, looking at Quinze, who calmly pointed the gun at Merquise.
“You’re not the killer here, my friend.” Duo still smiled, but his smile had turned devilish, twisting his lips. He was now looking straight at Quinze. “You took the life of an innocent for your own gain, for your own selfish purposes. You want to take my Never-Ending Circle for your own desire of power. For that, you will die.”
“No!” Heero lunged forward, jumping at Duo, and managed to throw him off balance. The arch of his scythe cut through a pillar instead of Quinze’s body, stone crashing and tumbling down, debris littering the floor.
“Inochigami! What are you doing?”
“Stop it,” Heero said, holding Duo-Shinigami, or Shinigami-Duo, no, he was Duo Maxwell, by the arms and shook him. “You’re not a killer! You’re not a murderer! You are Duo!”
With an annoyed grunt, Duo pushed Heero away from him, turning back to Quinze again. The man had visibly paled, but his gun didn’t waver.
“I don’t know who or what the hell you are,” he spoke, voice unstable, “but you’re going to give that scythe to me.”
There was still blood on Duo’s face from where Merquise’s bullet had hit him, and it had slowed down to a faint trickle. The corners of his lips were moving downward, in a disapproving, menacing scowl.
“Do you know what you ask of me?” He said, narrowing his eyes. “You, one who has already taken a life, you dare ask of me to hand over my scythe?”
“You’re talking about Winner, right?” Quinze said airily, but the sweatdrops on his brow were real. “It was an accident. He dug too deep. I had to stop him.”
“I don’t deal with murderers,” Duo hissed, “I take their lives!”
“Duo stop it, please!” Heero grabbed Duo’s arm again. He didn’t care for Quinze, but he knew he had to stop Duo - if he ever returned to normal, he would be devastated at the thought of having killed a man, even in a possessed state… no, not if he returned to normal, but when he returned to normal. Duo was strong enough to force this entity out of his body, and gain control over himself again! His mind raced at a thousand miles per minute. He had faced many dangers, traps and pits, ravines and deep dark abyss…but he had never met a God of Death, let alone its…his spirit, in the body of the man he loved.
“What are you doing?” Shinigami-Duo’s voice sounded dangerously low.
“Listen to me,” Heero said, meeting his gaze, “you’re not a murderer, you’re not a killer. You are Duo Maxwell!”
“Inochigami, you speak strange words. Never before have you stopped me from slaying one who has taken an innocent life!”
“Quinze will get what’s coming to him,” Heero said smoothly, ignoring the leader of the White Fang and the gun he was still holding. “We have justice to take care of that problem. Justice, and prison cells.”
“I want that scythe, Mister Yuy,” Quinze immediately spoke up, not about to be forgotten. Heero ignored him again.
“I know Justice, but I do not know prison cells,” Shinigami-Duo answered confusedly, and his eyes narrowed once more. “What has gotten into you, Inochigami? Surely we must celebrate being reunited after so much time… even our Guardian is joyful to see us again.”
Heero refused to look at the unmoving golden statue. He carefully lifted up his hand to touch Duo’s cheek, stroking his skin.
“I’m not him,” Heero said. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean?” Duo growled, and the lines in his face darkened, the dried blood cracking.
“It’s me, Heero,” he answered. “Heero Yuy. I’m your friend…your boyfriend. Remember the times we kissed? Remember how we kissed? The times we laughed, we cried, together, at the Manor? We worked out together in the gym, and you love to do acrobatics. You can do a triple backwards flip, Duo. Remember?”
He pursed his lips, reducing hem to a tight, cruel line. “What is that you speak of…a triple backwards flip? I know we have a different sense of humor, Inochigami, but this is ridiculous…”
With a sudden irritated growl, Duo brushed Heero’s hand on his cheek away and he grabbed the other by the chin, forcing his face close to his. After studying him for a few seconds, he kissed him, hard. Not hesitating for a moment, Heero wrapped his arms around Duo, closing the distance between them and embracing him as lovingly as he could. He couldn’t care less that everyone else present was looking at them; Quinze, Khushrenada, Merquise, he forgot about them as he responded to Duo’s kiss, his lips on his, warm, bloody, bitter. It was over all too soon, and Duo pushed him away.
“You are not my Inochigami,” he said, voice lower again. “What is going on here? Where is he? WHERE IS HE?”
Regaining his composure, Heero quickly raked a hand through his hair, trying to think how he could keep a control of the situation. Duo’s skin had paled considerably, and his lips… what the hell…were turning black, his eyes all but withdrawing into his head, showing dark, hollow pools without much emotion.
“Stop it, Duo, I beg of you,” he said. “Duo! Can you hear me?”
Wufei stepped forward, katana strapped on his back. He would be able to draw it within a mere second, but he figured it was better to approach the God of Death without any weapons in his hands.
“Inochigami is not here,” he said, voice calm and composed. “We can find him for you, just as we found your scythe. However, you are possessing a…friend of ours right now, and we would like to agree on something first.”
“You are amusing,” Shinigami-Duo said. “You humans have always been amusing, with your feelings of guilt and insecurity. You are all beating around the bush, waiting too long with your opportunities and chances, and then you start complaining about the unfairness of life. Amusing, yes! Where is my Inochigami?”
“He’s not here,” Heero repeated. “I’m not him, I’m sorry. Please let us go…let Duo go. You’re not of this world, Shinigami. Take your scythe and…return to where you came from, but let us…let Duo go.”
“The scythe, gentlemen,” Quinze interrupted again.
“Fuck off!” Heero lashed out, and his voice cracked. Both Shinigami-Duo and the statue seem to startle from his violent outburst, and the statue readied its weapons with his five remaining arms. Duo’s skin had turned a sickly grey, shining in the soft, brimming green light of his scythe.
“There is no Duo where you speak of,” he said, looking at Heero and Wufei. “You have found my scythe and returned it to me - for that, I will allow you to live.”
“Duo,” Heero wanted to touch him, but the other stepped away from him, lowering the weapon as a defense. The blood on his face was gone, only a few specks close to his nose and lips were still visible. They were the only color in his ashen face; his lips and eyes had turned the black darkness of darkest nightmares. “Duo! Fight him! Fight him, Duo!”
It amused Shinigami-Duo, and he looked over his shoulder to the large statue, which lifted up its arm with the large trident. He started to laugh as if Heero had told him the biggest joke, and it echoed in the room.
“No! No, Duo!”
“We have to get out of here, Yuy!” Wufei urged him.
“Duo! Duo!”
“Get the hell out of here!” Khushrenada made a beeline for the door, awkwardly pulling Merquise with him. The survivors of his personal army stumbled to the exit as well, supporting each other, terror on their faces. The Guardian ignored them. Wufei took Heero at the arm.
“We have to get out of here, Yuy,” he repeated. A movement to the left made him turn around, one hand on his katana, as he saw Quinze moving forward.
“So sorry to hear about your boyfriend,” he said, mockingly, “but a deal is a deal. The scy-”
“I said, fuck off!” Heero gritted through his teeth. “I never made a deal with you! Can’t you see, not even now, what this thing does?”
“I certainly see it,” Quinze said, eyes glistening. He used his other hand to push his glasses back on his nose. “That’s why I want it. The power of life and death, Mister Yuy, I thought I was quite clear when Khushrenada relayed those orders to you.”
“Khushrenada only commissioned me to find the artefact,” Heero hissed, “I can’t believe I’m discussing this with you!”
“We have to leave,” Wufei said once again as he noticed the statue coming towards them, one foot in front of the other, a low, rumbling sound that shook the entire shrine.
“Where is my Inochigami!” Shinigami-Duo cried out loud. The scythe glowed at full force, casting a green glow.
Heero trembled all over his body. The person standing in front of him wasn’t Duo, and he wasn’t Inochigami. He wasn’t the lover of the God of Death, he was Duo Maxwell’s boyfriend…but his instincts were screaming at him to stay and leave at the same time - stay with the creature that was this morbid mixture of Duo and Shinigami, and leave because fear was clutching at his heart.
“You are not him!” Shinigami-Duo lashed out wildly with the scythe, unleashing his anger and frustration. The large blade cut through everything it touched - stone and rock, it came all crumbling down. “You are not him!”
“He is tearing the place apart! Heero, if you do not leave, you will die here!” Wufei yanked at his collar, and Heero growled, batting his hand away.
“I’m not leaving without Duo!”
“Look at him! Look at him! That is not Maxwell, not any more!” Wufei yelled at him, his voice drowned out by all the noise. Heero’s chest heaved, taking in deep gulps of breath. He looked at Duo, standing in the middle of the rubble, swinging his scythe around. His braid was flying with every movement, strangely unharmed by the large blade, the color of the strands turning black. The smile on his lips was cruel and cold, and twisted his face in a gruesome way.
“I will find you,” he yelled. “I will find you, Inochigami!”
Wufei yanked harder at Heero’s collar, tearing the fabric. “We have to get out of here! Come on!”
“We can’t leave!”
“You cannot do anything for him now!”
“Let go of me!”
Quinze was still there, with the gun, and for the first time he was actually hesitating. He realized that no one was really in control anymore - but his greed and hunger for power was greater. Convinced he had the upper hand, he cocked the gun and aimed at Heero this time.
“Deal or no deal, go get what’s mine!” He barked.
Heero stared into the barrel of the gun. He couldn’t afford to die here. Not now. Not ever. Not as long as Duo was around somewhere, in his body, suppressed by the entity of the God of Death. If he died here, he could never help Duo to return to his true self…he would never hold the man he loved in his arms again. Too much had happened. There was still so much they needed to talk about. There was still so much love to share between them, he just couldn’t leave him here…
“Duo,” he faintly whispered.
“Yuy, the statue..!”
Wufei was faster, and dragged Heero away from Quinze, who was ready to fire as soon as he saw the other two running, grimacing as he realized he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. He only managed to shoot once, and he lacked Merquise’s finesse with a gun; the bullet hit a slab of stone, quite a distance away from either Heero or Wufei. Enraged, the elder man tried to follow them, at the same time the Guardian thrust his arm with the trident forward. With a high-pitched scream, Quinze was pinned to the outer wall of the shrine, his body mangled from the force of the weapon, and he was dead before his gun hit the floor, released by his lifeless hand.
The shrine was caving in, large chunks of rock and stone falling down from the ceiling. The wooden balcony collapsed, sending debris down, crashing and covering Heero and Wufei in splinters and dust. The golden statue used his other arms to punch the walls, going berserk, while Duo stood in front of it, seemingly untouched and resistant to the destruction around him. There wasn’t even a speck of dust on his clothes, black as his eyes and lips. Heero screamed his voice raw, calling Duo’s name as clouds of dust shrouded his vision.
Wufei forcefully dragged Heero along, through the maze of tunnels and corridors under the Royal Palace. He all but tore Heero’s clothing, but he would do anything it would take to get Heero to come along; a torn piece of fabric was the least of his problems. In a daze, Heero stumbled along with him, his eyes not seeing where he was going, and Duo’s name on his lips, repeating as in a mantra.
----------------------
It’s cold in here, Duo thought. He wrapped his arms around himself - was he naked or was he wearing clothes? He couldn’t remember. Hilde designed his outfits, she had invented that strange material that adapted itself to its surroundings, to every change in temperature… Hil.. Hilde? The name rang a bell, but it didn’t register. Was he wearing clothes? He looked at his hand and saw his flesh - no clothes. Huh. No wonder I’m cold.
There was nothing around him. No walls, no horizon. It was…blandness, as far as he could see. It was neither dark nor light, black or white, high or low. He was just…here, wherever ‘here’ was.
“Heero?” He could speak, but his voice died as soon as he parted his lips, the name fading away from him. Heero, yes, Heero. He could remember him, couldn’t he? Why did he have such a difficult time envisioning him? What did Heero look like again? Dark, chocolate brown hair. No, no, light hair. Just like himself! Did he have hair?
“I wonder where I am,” he said, but the words died again, leaving him without being spoken. His eyes saw, but there was nothing to see. He couldn’t determine where he was…and he didn’t care. He wanted to sit down, feeling tired all of the sudden - but there was still fear inside of him, and he knew that if he was going to sit down, he was never going to get back up again.
Anger. Fuck you. Stupid bitch. Idiot. He growled in response, baring his teeth, and Duo looked behind him, hands clenched into fists, ready to fight. There was no one in sight.
Where are you, my love? A painful longing, a raw desire, bitter disappointment. His anger forgotten, he wanted to cry, a sob hitching in his throat as he felt pain, pain that he didn’t want to feel, it left him vulnerable.
I love you. “Who’s there?” he asked, and this time he screamed. He yelled, he raged, he cried out, the infinite nothingness grating on his nerves. “Show yourself!”
“It’s just me.”
The hand on his shoulder startled him, and Duo turned around again, his braid whipping. He gaped.
“Jezus!”
A solemn smile was his answer. “Not by a mile, kid.”
“What… what are you doing here?”
He wanted to embrace him, but Solo Maxwell raised his hand to stop him in his movement.
“Don’t. Don’t touch the dead.”
“But-” Even though his voice was solid now, he sounded like a mewling cat. Everything seemed to be distorted in this environment, and Duo wished he had his guns, something he could defend himself with.
“Guns won’t help you here,” Solo said. He looked exactly the way Duo had seen him before the casket was closed; the ghastly, white-washed and puffy face of a drowning victim. Solo’s eyes were blank, a haze over them, and his hair was plastered against his face. For some reason, it had refused to dry completely, and when he was buried, his hair had still been wet.
“Where am I?” He already knew.
“The realm of the dead.” Solo shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.
“So I’m dead.”
“I didn’t say that.” Solo smiled and he pulled his hand back from Duo’s shoulder. The cuts in his flesh hadn’t healed either. He had washed up ashore with the mysterious shards embedded in his hands and arms. Their foolish quest for Atlantis. “Duo, I’ve always warned you for reassembling artefacts.”
“I’m not sure what happened,” Duo mumbled. The mixture of shame, sadness and joy he felt when seeing his brother was confusing him. “The Never-Ending Circle was broken into two, and when I climbed that statue I discovered the blade, and it suddenly fit together…”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Solo interrupted him, albeit not unfriendly. He ruffled Duo’s hair. “It’s good to see you again. You look good. A little pale, but well, that’s what you get when you get here.”
“I get to spend eternity with you?” Duo asked. He stepped closer to Solo again, but his brother shook his head and raised his hands.
“Don’t touch me, Duo. If you touch me, you’re dead.”
“But I am dead.”
“No, you’re not. You can see me and talk to me because you are in the realm of the dead…as its master.”
“Wh-what?”
“I’m sorry,” Solo said. He showed a weak smile. “You became part of this all when you assembled the Never-Ending Circle, Duo.”
“How…how would you know?” Duo felt desperate. Realm of the dead. Oh Gods, Heero. Why was he thinking about Heero all of the sudden? It was strange, but he could see his face, right in front of him, and yet…he couldn’t see. Was Heero here? Was he here? Where was he again?
“Duo, stay focused!” Solo’s sharp voice brought him back to his senses, and he shivered violently when he saw the deteriorated face of his brother so close to his own. “Do I scare you?” he asked.
“I miss you,” was all that Duo answered.
“I miss you too,” Solo said. His voice was strangely neutral, but Duo could pick up the slightest intonation of fondness. “I don’t have much time, Duo. I managed to reach you in time, but there’s not much left. Listen to me. I read about the Never-Ending Circle before, way before it was even uncovered. The only thing you have to do is to break it apart again. If you don’t break it, Shinigami will become the strongest force inside you…and you’re not cut out to be the God of Death, Duo.”
“Stop making such horrible jokes,” Duo said, shaking his head. “I’m hallucinating. I’m not here. I’m not there. I-”
“Silence!” Solo cut him off. “Listen…do you hear that? Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?” Duo whispered, closing his eyes even if he didn’t know why. Solo. Why are you here? You’re dead. I’m dead too, right? Huh, I always thought I would go out with a bang…what is it? I can’t…
Where are you, Inochigami?
“I…”
“Focus on that, brother,” Solo said, his voice ringing in his ears. “My time is up. Break it again, Duo. Break the scythe, or you’ll lose yourself. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Sure you are,” Duo snorted and wanted to open his eyes to take a last look at Solo. He found he couldn’t open his eyes, and the next second he started to panic. The blandness around him had turned black, and he heard screams, screams of agonizing pain, screams that would haunt him in his nightmares forever. Maybe he was screaming too, he didn’t know. There was only one thing he knew that was for real: the longing he felt when the strange name of Inochigami rang through his soul, was the same longing he felt for Heero.
I’m so sorry, my love. You’re not him, and I’m not him either. Forgive me.
-----------------------
Bright, harsh sunlight shone upon them as they reached the surface - Heero squinted his eyes, coughing loudly, choking and gasping when fresh air flooded his lungs. He fell on his knees, inhaling and exhaling with loud, intense breaths; he’d spend hours under the ground, in an almost toxic environment, searching for the Never-Ending Circle, but all that he found was the God of Death… and lost Duo in the process.
As soon as he got up, still wheezing, Heero noticed the caravan of luxurious Land Rovers parked at the south side of a mansion. He knew immediately it had to be Khushrenada and his entourage; a wild, blinding anger overpowered him and he ran towards the sturdy cars, before Wufei could even think of stopping him.
“Monster!” He yelled. “You selfish monster! This is all your fault!”
Despite the horrors they’d been through, two of Khushrenada’s men came to his defense, blocking Heero’s way before he could reach the man. Heero doubted it was a matter of loyalty; but as it was, these two held bigger guns than he did and they weren’t afraid of pointing them at him, right at the chest.
“Monster?” Khushrenada barked a short laugh, feeling safe behind the backs of his hired troops. He looked disheveled, clothing torn and smudged, and he pressed a wad of gauze to the small cut on his neck. “I think the real monster was…is inside.”
“Don’t you dare,” Heero hissed, “Don’t you dare call him a monster!”
“I am afraid it is nothing but the truth, Mister Yuy. I am sorry for the loss of your friend.” Khushrenada wasn’t looking at Heero, but at Merquise who was in the passenger’s seat, silent, eyes closed; he was in urgent need of medical attention, the blood loss posing a real danger to his life. “I am also afraid I do not have any time for this.”
“Stop hiding, you coward,” Heero said. He was aware of Wufei coming to stand close to him, but he ignored him for now. “Stop hiding and face me!”
There was a moment of silence, only interrupted by a soft chuckle. A nervous chuckle, and Khushrenada hoisted himself up on the driver’s seat, strapping himself into the seat belts.
“I disband your commission, Mister Yuy. The expedition is off! I owe you nothing, and for your information, I do not hide behind anything.” He threw a nervous look at the rear view mirror, but nothing was moving; the Royal Palace bathed in sunlight. “I take it the Never-Ending Circle is buried under tons and tons of rock, making it impossible to retrieve it ever again - too bad…but as my…friend of the White Fang has seemed to have perished, I do not owe him anything either. It is over, Mister Yuy. You would do best as to accept that.”
“Asshole!” Heero yelled at him as Khushrenada started the engine. The two men exchanged glances and didn’t deem Heero much of a threat, as they hurried away to another Land Rover about to drive off; they didn’t want to be left behind in this country.
“Treize,” Wufei spoke up.
Khushrenada pressed the gauze harder to his neck. His other hand rested on the clutch of the Land Rover, with Merquise, pale as a ghost, silently next to him. He threw an impatient look at Wufei, lips snarling uncharacteristically.
“I hold my oath to you hereby fulfilled,” Wufei curtly said. “There is no more honor and justice to be found here.”
Khushrenada’s eyes widened for a brief moment, then he snorted derisively. “Whatever you want, Chang. Fine. I am getting out of here!” He dropped the wad of gauze and gripped the steering wheel as he shifted gears, his foot hitting the gas pedal. The vehicle roared and sped forward, the large wheels throwing up gravel and dust in their wake. A lot of Land Rovers stayed behind, empty - only a few had survived the onslaught in the shrine. Khushrenada’s army had been decimated; their broken bodies rested under the tons and tons of debris.
Heero turned around, facing the palace.
“Where are you going, Yuy?”
“Duo is in there somewhere,” he answered. “If you want a ride, feel free to take any of these cars or my car, it’s parked just ahead.”
“Yuy, the ghosts of the dead…”
“Silence!”
Wufei was taken aback, then schooled his face into his previous neutral expression. “As you wish.”
Heero opened his mouth, but shut it again. His stomach was growling, his muscles were protesting, and his body ached all over - but he didn’t care, everything paled in comparison to finding Duo. His thoughts were jumbled, but only one stood out: the ghosts of the dead. The God of Death had claimed the one he loved, and Shinigami himself had been desperately searching for the one he loved. Inochigami. Why hadn’t he just lied, and pretended to be his lover? Shinigami-Duo would’ve never become enraged…but he had kissed him, and determined for himself he wasn’t his Inochigami. He wasn’t his God of Life, he wasn’t the one bringing him life. Duo wasn’t dead, Heero was sure of it. Shinigami wouldn’t destroy a perfect healthy and young body - he had to find his Inochigami, wherever he was.
“Yuy. Yuy!”
“Huh?”
“Look at the Palace,” Wufei said.
He blinked. The building was…shaking. Huge cracks appeared in the plaster, and the outer walls collapsed, the sun-bleached red tiles breaking apart in bits and pieces. Dust clouded where stone and brick crumbled down, and the large dome in the center of the Palace split open. The ground started to rumble, and he had to step aside to regain his footing, whereas Wufei simply looked at the Palace and remained in perfect balance; the face of his friend stood grim.
A bright light forced him into moving his hand above his eyes, but he already knew what it was before it had appeared. The golden Guardian-statue had worked its way up, above the surface, and perched on his shoulder was Shinigami-Duo, or what was left of him.
Wufei unsheathed his katana, but Heero didn’t reach for his shotgun. He was too baffled, too stunned, and his body was nailed to the ground. The Guardian shrugged off the remnants of the dome, its five arms, weapons in his hands, clearing its way. Shinigami looked small in comparison to the statue, but there was nothing small about the black wings protruding from his shoulders. They spanned past the Guardian’s head, totally in disproportion with his body, but nonetheless intimidating. The Never-Ending Circle, having grown twice it size, was so big he fitted under it, the blade describing a perfect arch above his head.
“Maxwell,” Wufei said, with a strange sadness to his voice. “This… no one deserves this.”
“He’s still Duo,” Heero answered stubbornly. He looked up, forcing himself to watch the creature on the Guardian’s shoulder. Despite the distance, he could see Shinigami-Duo’s expression perfectly; black lips mouthing the name of the love he was searching for, eyes longing to hold the one he missed so much. The blade of the scythe glowed green, its tip touching the cheek of the Guardian; the statue didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Readying its weapons, it aimed at Heero and Wufei.
“Stop it, Shinigami,” Heero said, voice nothing but a whisper. “If you really love your Inochigami, go back to sleep and wake up in his arms. Give me my Duo back.”
“Yuy, you are insane.” Wufei couldn’t help but stare at the weapons in the Guardian’s arms, the trident still dripping with blood. “I want to help your friend, but this is insane!”
“Just kill me,” Heero said.
“What?”
“Just kill me.” Heero didn’t break his eye-contact with Shinigami-Duo. Wufei grabbed him at the shoulder again, shaking him.
“Snap out of it, Yuy!”
“Just kill me,” he repeated. “If that is what you want. If that is what it takes to give me my Duo back.”
“You are amusing,” Shinigami-Duo said. “All you humans are amusing. Yes, I am going to amuse myself in this world.” A screeching sound announced a movement from his wings, spreading them to their full, impressive width. “I will take your life, Inochigami-impostor.”
I will find you, Duo, wherever you are.
He lifted up the scythe and disentangled himself from the statue, movements light and elegant, as an angel floating in the sky.
“Yuy, this is not going to end right!” Wufei held his katana up high, assuming a stance.
“Run, Wufei,” Heero said, his eyes wide. He wanted to face what was coming, he wanted to see Shinigami-Duo coming for him. He wanted to face him head-on, he wasn’t afraid. “Run. Leave!”
“You…” Wufei’s words were lost to him. Shinigami was fast, and it was only a matter of seconds…maybe one second only. The scythe was at his neck, the green light shining in his eyes, the face of the God so close that he could see the countless souls taken in his eyes, and the scream of agonizing pain was either theirs or his, he didn’t know.
Found you.
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