Fears

Kaito lowered his Phoenix Blade, turning to Koharu as she landed. She stumbled forward, tears sparkling down her cheeks, and Kaito caught her.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he said, hugging her as his heart raced. “You’re… okay.”

She cried softly, her shoulders shaking in his arms. “I killed her, Kai.”

“You did what you had to,” he whispered. “It’s over, now.”

Something moved in the corner of Kaito’s eye. Something that ran towards him.

Fears.

He crouched, hunching his body over Koharu’s, and swung his blade backwards with a roar.

But nothing happened. He raised his head, glancing over his shoulder with a frown.

The Fear just… stood there, still in its usual, wolf-looking form. Its mouth crawled with marbled tentacles as it watched him, its jagged, white eyes locked with his. His sword was still pointed at it, the gap down the blade’s centre glowing with orange light.

He clenched his jaw, loosening his grip on the blade and letting it crumble to ash.

“I don’t fear losing them anymore,” he snarled. “I’ve no need to kill a fear that I don’t have.”

The tentacles in the Fear’s mouth retreated into its mouth, eyes blinking as they turned to the eyes of a normal wolf. It shook itself off, and turned around, retreating into the burnt tree line without a sound.

Kaito sighed, standing with Koharu as she groaned.

“Ignacio,” she said, her hand against her head.

Kaito held her shoulders and looked her in the eye. Her face was swollen, but clean. The gash running over her eye was deep enough to blind her, but that was the only serious wound on her face. Her robe was in tatters, a nasty burn mark bubbling the skin on her stomach. But she would live.

She’ll live.

A tear welled in his eye, but he blinked it away before it fell. They both turned as a roar tore through the air. A giant Green Dragon hovered in the air, staring at a… whatever the hell that thing was, lumbering towards it.

“Is that…”

Koharu smiled. “That’s Ignacio,” she said, her voice breaking as tears rolled down her cheeks. “That’s Ignacio!”

Ignacio grinned as the Green Dragon rose into the sky, flaring its wings wide open as it roared. Rings of sound flowed from its maw, making Ignacio’s ears hurt as he rocketed towards it.

Like a hand…

He closed his eyes. And his brows knitted.

He saw… memories. Not just his own. He saw Celeste, whacking him with a pillow as their mother laughed. He saw Koharu grab her father’s legs as he came home from work. He saw Kaito holding Rin, gently rocking her in his arms. Dario as a kid, kicking a ball against a wall, all by himself. Shun, crying over his mother’s coffin at a funeral. He saw them… all. Kiyomi, learning how to dance as a child. The man who held the Hallowed Titan, whoever he was, sitting on his haunches and hugging a dog around the neck as a man and woman screamed behind him. He saw Daichi giving a red flower to his father when he was a boy, only to be slapped over the head. He saw them all.

And as he opened his eyes, there was no longer a Dragon towering in the sky above. There was a child. A little boy, with hatred burning in his green eyes as he watched the shadow of his mother being beaten by the shadow of his father.

No, he thought, rocketing towards the boy with flaming green wings. You’re seeing the real Dragon.

And his body erupted into a blaze of black flames. He roared as he burst out of them, reaching a flaming crystal hand for the Green Dragon’s tail. The Dragon leaned its head forward, mouth ablaze with green flames about to erupt.

Ignacio beat his own wings, using Koharu’s blue light to rocket higher, and grabbed the Dragon’s snout shut. He turned, swinging the Dragon over his shoulder and slamming it to the ground, a wave of green flames rippling around it.

You can be beaten, Ignacio thought, stepping on the Dragon’s chest as it tried lashing its neck forward to bite him. Because for all that power, all you are is a hurt little boy trying to protect yourself.

He grabbed the Dragon’s throat as the beast tried to lean forward again, pinning it down against the ground.

I’m sorry, he thought. But you made your choice.

He raised his opposite hand, his fist an amalgamation of Aspects.

A fist of crystal sprawling with molten cracks, engulfed with black flames, the shape of a Werewolf’s hand with Koharu’s blue-light and Kiyomi’s red combining to form a deep purple along his Drake claws. And somewhere in there was Shun, and the Green Dragon itself.

He pulled his fist back, a galactic spiral forming along each knuckle. And he drove it into the Dragon’s head. Its wings fell limp at its sides, the green flames on its scales dying and fading. Its body turned grey. And smoke rose from it in thin wisps.