Chapter Seventeen: Game of the past ...
Konan waits like she said she would. The smile Korosu offers is more genuine this time. She had asked Itachi to keep away while she entertained this image of who she used to be. It isn't because she's afraid of what he might think of her, but because she doesn't want him to associate who she once was to who she is now.
"Those clothes are ... strange." Is all Konan manages to say, unimpressed. "How do they protect you in a fight?"
Korosu snorts dryly. "They don't. In my old world, these types of clothes weren't meant for fighting in."
"Were they ... were they good for anything?" based off Konan's expression she personally doesn't think so.
Korosu's shrug is entirely one of the streets. "Not really. Didn't have the money to afford the kind of clothes that could do something—well, we did, at times, but it was rarely spent on me." She shrugs again. "If it was a good day, or if they won a lot of money, they'd take me out shopping."
Konan's eyes narrow in anger, but she diplomatically keeps her mouth closed. "Come, Pein-sama doesn't want you in there for too long."
"Will anyone be with me?" she knows their leader doesn't want anyone going in by themselves.
Here, Konan's eyes darken. "No, it will be just you. I don't like it, none of us do, but we all agree this won't work if there's anyone else in the room with you."
Korosu straightens. She pats the other woman's shoulder. Her height hasn't changed much over the years, so she hasn't altered it like she did with her other features. "Leo's devil wasn't present when I looked like this. If he's not aware I'm in the room and Lucifer can distract him long enough, I should be playing to the true Leo that still remains."
Konan nodded, though a crease still furrows her brows. Korosu walks past her, towards the door she knows Leo waits behind. If he's conscious, she's not sure, but she's about to find out.
Don't do anything reckless, Korosu. Lucifer's warning is little more than a hiss in her ear. It seems he still hasn't forgotten her last stunt. Of course not, he growls.
Hands rapidly moving through the required forms to unlock the door, the knot in her stomach intensifies. The door unlocks with a quiet click and Korosu spares one more look in Konan's direction before she hurries inside, before she can second guess what she's about to do.
It's dim inside the room, shadows creeping along the walls in patterns that could easily take shape if she lets her imagination run from her. Leo—and she still has to refer to him by that name—sits pressed against the wall, knees tucked under his arms and chains hanging limp from his wrists. His blue gaze tracks her movements, but they're duller now. She's slow in her approach, letting her shoulders hunch forward; giving her the air of someone far smaller than her already pathetic height provided. Five foot one is not much to crow about.
She wants to call him Leo, to separate the person in front of her from the boy in her memories. But, for this to work, she needs to call him by his real name. "M ... Matsu," his name tumbles haltingly from her lips.
He looks smaller now, curled up against the wall, an unreadable expression on his face, than he did back in the fortress. Korosu licks her lips, throat suddenly dry. Is it weak of her to wish Itachi could be in here with her?
She stops at the head of the bunk, unwilling to get any closer. "Matsu, it's me. Do you remember me?" she drops to her knees, the messy ends of her hair curling around her jaw as she moves. She's forgotten what it's like to have short hair.
Leo's eyes track the swishing of her hair, eyebrows slowly scrunching together. There's a spark in his gaze, it's faint but it's there. She finds herself leaning in just a little bit closer. Korosu had found a new home in the Leaf Village while kami knows what happened to him when he fell through their world and into this one. There had been a time she thought seeing Matsu again would forever remain in her dreams, and yet, here he sits: the boy from her memories, the boy who's supposed to save her.
As Korosu looks up at him, face suddenly slipping and becoming too open, she's hit with the realization she doesn't love Matsu—not anymore, not in the way she once did years ago. A chasm opens up inside of her, but she squashes it with unrelenting fists. Another hurdle she will have to over come—love could come in many forms, right? But, as she stares at Leo, how can he possibly love her when there's barely any recognition? How can a crucial part of saving her exist if neither party loves the other?
"Rose?" Leo's voice cracks as his long forgotten nickname for her tumbles from him.
Korosu flinches, face flushing as she hears that nickname. How she had hated it—still hates it. It gives her a softness she can't afford, not then and certainly not now when she's dealing with another devil that wants her dead. But, she reminds herself, she isn't speaking to that devil now, she's talking with Matsu.
She swallows the sharp words that want to come out and instead says, "That's right, it's me, Rose ... Do you remember me, Young?" she lets some playfulness edge into her voice. She can remember a time where she'd shouted his last name through thunder storms after an argument or in glee as they splashed through small rivers behind his house.
A small, ghost of a smile tilts his lips into a lopsided grin. "I could never forget our Rose."
Korosu allows herself to scoot a little bit closer, but her muscles are bunched, ready to move if she needs to. She even haltingly reaches her hand out, taking his in hers. Despite her mistrust, Korosu's able to see the boy he used to be in his grin; the wild energy she had first been drawn to, the boyishness he could convey in one simply smile. The whole of acceptance he offered her when no one else would. A single tear slips down her cheek, curving over her jaw and tracing down her neck. She lets it go. In this split second, she's glad Itachi is not in the room or watching—her thoughts are so at war with each other.
"I-I've missed you." The words could strangle her. Not even Lucifer's invisible presence is there to comfort her. He can't be if they wished to keep his brother's attention away from what she's doing.
Leo sighs, head dipping until his chin rests on his knees. There's some recognition in his blue stare, but the haze is stronger, as if he's still not fully aware of the waking world. Korosu can not imagine what he must have gone through being the vessel of Lucifer's brother. If Lucifer had terrified her in the beginning (which he had), there was no doubt his brother continued to terrified Leo.
Matsu ...
"You're a little taller now, I think," he frowns. "I can't really remember ... it's all mostly a blur, like I can only see the outlines without actually seeing." The confusion deepens and his hands curl into fists.
She nods anyways. "It's ... it's been awhile since I saw you last. You're taller now too."
"Am I?" Leo asks, some of the confusion ebbing. "Most days it just feels like I'm swimming in this black abyss."
Korosu offers a weak smile, unable to make it bigger. So, her theory is right: Matsu still remains within his body even as Lucifer's brother controls most of his actions and waking thoughts. She doesn't know weather to cry or shout. She knows, if she'd met Matsu now, three years ago she would have been swept away by rage at the injustice life had granted her. But, now ... now she has a little better insight to the knowledge she isn't the only one who suffers. Is suffering.
"I know, that's why I'm here. I want to help you."
"Where's Usagi? Did he get hurt again? Mom says we shouldn't let him come outside and play with us."
If only Usagi can be here now. Maybe it's for the best he isn't. Korosu squeezes his hand gently. "He's doing okay. He actually found me before I found you."
He hums, as if this makes sense. "Usagi's always been good at finding you."
If finding her meant nearly getting killed during the Chunin Exams, then yes, Usagi was good at finding her.
"Matsu," she steers him towards a different topic, one she needs the answers more for. "Can I ask you something?"
The blue of his eyes are so different from Naruto's, yet they once used to carry the same brightness. "Sure?"
"What's the last thing you can remember?"
"Fragments, really." He tells her, voice clearing the longer he talks. Some of the haze has also begin to disappear and Korosu feels her chest tighten in hope.
"And?" she urged.
"You. Rain. I think you were crying. I wanted to turn around, but I couldn't ... someone held my arm. Usagi wouldn't talk." His gaze darkens, memories swimming unseeingly in front of her. "Darkness. It's cold now, my head hurts. Laughter ... it was cruel—worse than some of the street kids. Blood, so much blood. A little girl."
Korosu's unsure of how she's keeping her hands from trembling. There's a stillness about her that can be either mistaken as predatory or the flightiness of prey.
Mastsu's gaze clears so suddenly she's taken aback. "You. You're there now. After such a long period of time of darkness you appeared. You're wearing red." A flush colors his cheeks, bright against the paleness of his skin. "Rose, why were you wearing such clothes like that?"
Her lips twist and she remembers the outfit he's talking about with a bitter vengeance. I really hate that damn costume.
"It was a disguise, Matsu." She says instead, wringing all other emotions from her tone.
"Oh, okay." He accepts so blindingly that Korosu's heart pings with ache. Part of him is still the little boy she watched walk away from her. Matsu has been stuck in a strange warp of time. "Rose ... I don't like the images going on in my head. Please, make it stop!"
The terroir and pain flare so brightly she's unable to ignore it. But, she can't take away the memories, not now and possibly not ever. All she can do is tighten her hold on his hand press a tender kiss to his knuckles like she used to do when they were younger and something had hurt him.
"I'm sorry, Matsu. This is important. You're doing so well." Korosu's voice is soothing, soft and coddling. She speaks as if she's talking to a frightened child, not a young man who knows the stain of blood.
Something whispers in the back of her mind. Urgency laces her tone now, as she says, "Matsu, you mentioned something about a little girl. Who is she?"
She's not sure why she's latched onto this one small detail, but now that it's in her grasp she isn't letting it go.
His gaze dulls, the light of reality flickering. Her hold becomes painful, she knows because her knuckles are stark white. "She was Usagi's age, you know, when mom said he cries so easily because he's not fully aware of social queues—"
"Was she six? Seven?"
"Six ... six I think."
"Okay, that's good. Keep going."
Matsu begins to rock. The clinking of his cuffs echo hauntingly in the otherwise silent room. She's afraid to push.
"Sh-she had blue hair ... strange to think someone could have blue hair. Don't you think so, Rose?" his train of thought is in jumbles, but it makes enough sense to Korosu that she doesn't trying asking him to speak clearer.
You'd freak if you saw Sakura's hair, the thought comes without invoking it.
"Yes, very strange."
"I think—I think there was another kid with us? It was so dark, colder than winter. I could see our breaths cloud in front of us. I don't know how I ended up there. Just know I woke up there and there were these two kids." Matsu's rocking has increased.
She whispers words that hold no meaning, but fill air where his words have fallen. She knows, from experience, sometimes it's nice to just hear someone's voice talk even if it didn't hold any real value.
"There's chanting. No there's not. Yes, yes there is. I thought it was strange." He's no longer looking at her. "I wanted to say something, especially as ... as the little girl cried, but I couldn't move. I was frozen in place.
"It was horrible, Rose ... so horrible. One minute she was screaming, the next the sound cut off so sharply it cut deeper than the knife."
"Shh, Matsu, shhh." Korosu doesn't need him to continue. She can guess what had happened. The little blue haired girl had been killed—murdered.
Rage sweeps through the room. It isn't hers. It isn't Matsu's. Korosu's eyes widen and she immediately let's go of Matsu's hand.
Lucifer.
The air thickens and she sees the blue of Matsu's eyes darken, giving way to swirls of pitch black.
Lucifer! She needs him to stop. He was drawing his brother's attention.
A snarl rips through the room, vibrating and rumbling. She knows it's not just inside her head anymore.
"NO!" Korosu's shout is ear splitting.
Luc, she pleads inside her mind. Her own anger is sparking. You have to stop! We're going to lose him if you keep this up! Tell me what's wrong!
He committed the most treasonous act a devil could! The furry in her devil's voice is chilling. She unconsciously takes a step away from Matsu. For good reason, though, as a smile that has nothing to do with Matsu stretches across his handsome face.
"Good. Very good, brother." Matsu is gone.
Her inhale of air is shattering. She feels Lucifer press against her, arms like solid cages around her. His dominance forces the very air she's just taken to expel from her lungs in a woosh. Her eyes dart to her arms, to her hands that are visible. The curse that rips from her causes a laugh from Lucifer's brother. Ink lettering is crawling over her skin, meaning her powers are being activated.
Damnit it all to hell! she snarls. Lucifer, STOP this! I can't let my abilities come out—not here!
Lucifer's red eyes are bright and full of pain and anger. She sees them as clearly as if he's standing in the room with her. This is bad. Very bad.
His words are a hiss. You don't understand. He and that-that kid, venom drips, practiced a taboo ritual that has been outlawed by my kind for centuries because of what it means.
Kosoru's afraid to ask. But she must. She asks inside her mind, eyes glued to Matsu who is no longer Matsu. Lucifer's brother sneers at her, letting them figure it out on their own.
"Tell her, brother. Tell her the power I have to do such a thing."
Korosu swears she can feel the solid mass of Lucifer's chest, but she knows she's the only one in the room with Matsu and his brother. To bind a devil—one as such as myself and my brother—there are two ways to go about it. The host's soul is either given by an outside force in greed, desperation, or whatever reason is given, or a soul is sacrificed to bind devil to host.
Bile rises in her throat, hot and acidic. Dear gods.
The ritual is not pretty and it is not painful. That kid in the other room, if I'm not mistake—which I am not—killed his own sister to bind my brother to your Matsu. My brother must have known you'd fallen into this world and brought Matsu through by his own violation. That's how Matsu ended up there. The heat in Lucifer's voice hasn't diminished. If anything, it's grown.
"That's right. The girl's soul was the perfect sacrifice: pure and unblemished." Lucifer's brother's voice (and for once she's glad she does not know his name, but this silent gladness would change) is oily and deprived any real care or emotion. There is, though, a dark glee that coats his words and drives light into his eyes.
Korosu trembles. Not in fear, but from anger. Her chakra spikes, answering her surge of emotions. She knows her eyes are luminescent, but she's past caring. It's then, as she tries to take a step forward, that she realizes why Lucifer has wrapped his arms around her. It's as much to keep himself in check as it is to hold her back.
"Fucking coward!" she spits.
Lucifer's brother gloats. He strains against his chains and the smile curling his lips is sick. "Want to know why this practice is outlawed?"
Her fuming silence is answer enough.
"Because the soul sacrificed isn't released back to the ether. It doesn't go back to the cycle of life. No." There's pure wickedness dancing in his face. There's no traces of Matsu left anymore. "The soul is completely shattered! It ceases to exist—there's nothing left of it. That little girl's entire essence was consumed by me and her brother laughed while it happened, thanks to my subtle control already over him. A soul shattered cannot ever return, dear sweet Korosu. Not even a devil messes with the overall nature of the cycle of life.
"But I dared and I did. I am a god among demons!"
His cackling haunts her nightmares.