9: tragedy [Ikuto]

‘Sometimes, I wonder whether monsters exist within humans and not just in the form we know them to be,’ Odagiri Ikuto thought as he walked through the ruins of what was once Sector Sixty-Eight. His usually calm face was pulled into a disgusted grimace, crunching his nose whenever he walked past the countless lifeless bodies.

Wherever he went, and wherever he looked, all he could smell was burnt flesh, chemicals raging in the air, and bodies after bodies lying above each other. Some were scattered around as if they’d been nothing more than simple trash that was in the way. Ikuto almost stepped on someone’s hand, barely noticing it in time.

Smoke burned Ikuto’s black eyes, causing him to blink a few times until he could see, properly, again. Until he managed not to cry.

It wouldn’t be Ikuto’s first time to witness a scene like this, considering that he’d been part of the Emperor’s army for a few years before something within him snapped and he disappeared. He’d seen what was done, using the Emperor’s name and power, and while he knew that half of the time the man himself had no idea about any of it until it was too late - Ikuto couldn’t help but detest the man.

He wanted to drag the Emperor down from his throne and show him what his men have done to their country - to his own people. Ikuto had seen his loved ones losing their minds, all because of Emperor Shin’ya’s incompetence.

He refused to let it happen, again.

“Fuck,” Ando Tsubasa voiced out exactly what Odagiri Ikuto was thinking, what anyone was most likely thinking when they saw the scene before them.

His black eyes, darker than midnight, glanced at his right-hand man, Ando, who was frowning, cursing, and running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. Repeatedly. Maybe not in the same order, but it felt as though it was the only thing he knew what to do.

Ando looked more distraught, more unsettled, than Ikuto himself felt. He wouldn’t admit it, but it worried him a bit more than it should have. Ando wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, true: he did react easily and had interesting reactions whenever he was irritated.

But he never showed his real thoughts or his feelings.

So, the fact that Ikuto saw him acting like this?

It worried him, but at the same time, he understood his friend. He did. The tragedy before them was heart-breaking enough to break even the strongest man, or a woman.

Ikuto looked back at Ando, who was now pacing around in circles, and noticed that Ando’s white T-shirt peeked out from his pants, half tucked in, and gave an impression that Ando Tsubasa hadn’t put much effort into his appearance. Ikuto had seen his best friend walking around in nothing but boxers and a night-gown, something that had annoyed the girls, and boys merely smirked at his antics.

Another thing Ikuto noticed was dark circles under Ando’s brown eyes. Lack of sleep, Ikuto belatedly recalled that his right-hand man has been working without proper rest for nearly seventy-two hours straight. It was unusual for Ando to do something and not get distracted, but these past days he’d been especially focused.

He didn’t know the exact details as of what Ando’s been up to nor did he want to know, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t worried.

Ikuto watched him kicking a helmet, which landed somewhere out of their sight, and it rolled away with a lasting echo. Somewhere, a dog cried out at the loss of its master, and a building came crashing down. Someone screamed, and someone cursed. So loudly that their voices echoed back in this ghost town.

Ikuto’s eyes looked up at the ominous-looking sky, which was painted in colors of blood and darkened sea. How fitting, to think that Heaven’s are crying for us.

Behind him were a pack of crows, greedily pecking on their prey. A bird squawked before the whole pack scattered up towards the sky, feeling the presence of something dangerous lurking in the darkness. And even though, Ikuto couldn’t see it - he knew it was a demon. Because suddenly, the atmosphere changed into something that felt more suffocating than the scent f death, than the aftermath of a tragedy.

Ando Tsubasa once called him incredibly lucky, because he didn’t have the ability to see past the Spiritual Layers surrounding their shitty world, that if Ikuto so desired, he could easily live in a normal world and pretend that the world hadn’t gone shit. Ando had even slyly remarked that Ikuto could easily buy a house and raise a family, away from their everyday horrors.

Ikuto didn’t agree with that statement.

Because in his mind, he needed to see past the Spiritual Layers to make his job easier, to allow Ikuto to walk around without constantly thinking if there were demons around. He could sense them, yes. But he couldn’t see them.

And that in Ikuto’s eyes was a problem.

It hindered his work - didn’t let him go anywhere alone, all because of the paranoia higher-ups had, fearing that he could be killed without sufficient support. Apparently, he was too valuable for them to accidentally get killed by a demon he couldn’t see. Or by an enemy, who saw it as a chance to take him down.

Furthermore, it was a widely known fact that Odagiri Ikuto couldn’t see the Creatures of the Night, but it didn’t render him completely powerless. He had his own strength, and that was understanding how human minds, and body language, worked.

That’s what made him so valuable to the Leader. His tenacity to never give up and ability to easily get information and nearly instantly knowing how things worked.

“Yeah, fuck,” Ikuto said, stopping in front of what was once, probably, a school. He instantly looked away, not enjoying the sight of countless dead children laying on the ground. Burned. Unrecognizable.

“You reckon it’s like this everywhere?” Ando choked over the words coming out of his mouth. Ikuto could hear his friend following behind him as he moved on.

Ando Tsubasa was, perhaps, the only person left he trusted.

Completely.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t call Ando out on his bullshit or know when he was scared. It was also one of the main reasons why the two were often paired up. Sometimes, they’d have a third member to tag along if they didn’t have anything better to do. Like today.

“Most likely,” he said, feeling eyes on him. But Ikuto didn’t turn around, he couldn’t. “You know just as well as I do that when Peace Patrols are sent out, they do a clean job. No survivors, no witnesses, and nothing but ashes are left behind. A mere memory of a story that can no longer be spun.”

“It doesn’t feel like Peace Patrol’s did it, though,” Ikuto and Ando glanced at the third member of their little party, Taguchi Nanako stood there, looking at the scene before them with similar expression the boys wore.

Her red hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, thus revealing several piercings on both of her ears, each in different size and shape. There were seven in total, three on her left ear and four on her right. The biggest of them all was two skulls resting in the middle of her ears, joyfully tangling with a cross at its tail, and the smallest were several simple golden studs.

There was a snake tattoo running down Nanako’s neck, part of it hidden by her collared blouse. That wasn’t her only tattoo.

The woman before them may have looked petite and harmless, however, the boys knew better than anyone how tough Nanako really was. She had no problems taking on jobs no one else wanted or was willing to risk their lives for. It was Nanako, who called the Revolutionary Army and told them what happened here.

Ikuto didn’t know how she always managed to survive without having special training like he and Ando did, but he was glad for it.

Because losing someone like Taguchi Nanako wasn’t an option. Ikuto needed someone with her smarts around, mostly because it was better than dealing with just Ando, who could be more annoying and irritating than a five-year-old kid.

“Why?” Ando asked, sitting on a larger clean-looking rock that wasn’t surrounded by bodies. It’d once been a part of a building.

“The bodies,” Ikuto answered, looking around, noticing the way they laid there. “It’s like they were dead before the bombing,” he added, and just like that, his stomach felt heavier.

Nanako nodded, she was kneeling in front of a burnt body, unrecognizable to the point the boys couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, moving it in the way a coroner would with a dead body. Ikuto knew that Nanako once worked with the Peace Patrols, they both did before they joined the Revolutionary Army although not at the same time.

To be more specific, her specialty was dead.

“Considering the world we live in,” she said, pausing in her investigation upon noticing a certain mark on the victim’s neck. She pulled down the shirt’s collar, causing the cloth to grumble into pieces thus revealing a certain symbol both Ikuto and Ando were more than familiar with.

“I’d say it’s the work of magic.”

Ando’s body straightened, leaning forward with sudden interest.

“Including the bombing?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” she nodded, looking disgusted. She stood up, wiped her hands, and placed them in the pockets of her leather jacket. Her golden hair tie sparkled back. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened.”

“You mean that guy from Howling Aquilo - Ran, was it?”

Ikuto looked around, thoughtfully, as he recalled the scene Howling Aquilo’s Ran had left behind after the devastation. It looked similar, way too similar.

Ikuto had seen Ran battling S-class demon, once, and at that moment, he’d found himself wishing that the guy was on their side. He’d watched, from a safe distance, the way Ran moved and fought all while protecting innocents.

This here?

It was almost as if someone had done it on purpose.

“It’s not his style,” he denied, shaking his head. “I’ve seen them fighting, plus Howling Aquilo members don’t kill innocents.”

“You haven’t seen Fu then,” Ando said, picking up a nearby rock and threw it into a distance. He watched it land with a small whistle, before he made a crazy gesture around his head, “I mean, everyone knows that Fu’s an alcoholic sociopath, who finds pleasure in killing. He’d have no qualms to cause such devastation.”

“Or maybe that’s exactly what they wanted you to think,” Nanako suddenly said, blinking in realization. “Didn’t the Emperor have his own squad consisting of magicians?”

Ando blew a raspberry, “The Sinners.” His distaste was evident. “I never fully understood why they’re called like that,” Ando shrugged.

“Cause they’re all criminals who didn’t make the cut into Haruse’s carefully selected Howling Aquilo,” Ikuto responded, gaining surprised looks from both Ando and Nanako. “Haruse is smart, he knew exactly whom he wanted to pick, despite the members being as dysfunctional as they are. It was all a planned move from him.”

“…Which makes them so much more dangerous, doesn’t it?” Nanako asked, pulling out her favorite pack of cigarettes. Ikuto watched, fascinated, as her index finger burned and lit the cigarette.

“Yes,” he replied, as he turned around to look at the tragedy before him.

Ikuto didn’t like what this scene before him implied. Not at all. Or what it forced him to do, reaching out to the last person he wanted to see. He pursed his lips, frowning.

“Shit, I don’t like the look on your face, Ikuto,” Ando groaned, dragging a hand through his hair, unwillingly getting up from his position on the rock.

Ikuto glanced at his right-hand man.

“Nothing’s ever gone well whenever you’ve had that look on!” He pointed an accusing finger at the now grinning Odagiri Ikuto. Ando’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Am I missing something?”

“Yes!”

“No, he’s simply over-reacting.”

“Argh! I’m not gonna be responsible, ya hear me!?”

Ikuto merely chuckled, watching Ando throwing a childish tantrum, with amusement. Ando could attempt to try and talk him out of it, but in the end, they knew he didn’t have much of a choice.

Not if the annihilation of Sector Sixty-Eight was merely the start of something big, as Ikuto suspected, then they needed all the help they could, even if it meant turning to the strongest sorcerer…