Rain

The fire raining down sizzled and popped, burned away like a trailing scream, pattering into nothingness on the solid weight of an unbreakable barrier.

Lachlan breathed in deep, the itch of a thousand wasps filling his lungs, marching relentlessly over his skin, but it didn't tear him apart. He held steady, letting the shield fizz away as the last dying spark beat itself out.

Ariake whooped. "Damn, gaijin. I thought you wouldn't make it."

He managed a crooked smile. "Just holding out on you till the last minute." Taking another deep breath, he could sense the entire village and the oni beyond, further inland. "But it's not over yet."

No more oni terrorised the people, but the big one out at sea snapped tentacles back at the onslaught of four Samurai in the higher notches of Spirit-state. The monster that'd tried to destroy everything left to him.

A gleaming rifle formed in his hands, glowing lines pulsing along its length to the beat of his heart, and he took aim at one big, glowing eye.

It disappeared in a spray of black.

His grin bared fangs. "Not so tough as you look, after all."

He poured shot after shot into its head, into the back of its throat as it opened its mouth in a thunderous roar, in its other eye, in the faintly-glowing chinks between scales on its forehead. The behemoth shrieked under the barrage, and the runes on his Samurai flared, burning like brands as he kicked it up to a synced notch-six.

"You try to hurt my people—" his shot cracked off a fang, and he bared his own— "you come here to destroy my village—"

It tossed its massive head, water streaming from its hide like a waterfall, and he shot it in the soft point under its jaw. "You come here to kill my family—"

Rearing up, it opened its mouth again, a glowing, beating heart on its chest flaring like a volcano, and every part of him focused on its pinpoint centre, fire burning in his veins.

"Like hell I'm letting you get away with that."

He hit dead-centre, a spray of sparks exploding from its heart and crackling like lightning along its skin, glowing veins flaring bright and turning to black dust. The glow in its throat sputtered, fizzled—

And died.

With a crash like thunder, it fell, disintegrating before it even hit the waves, and crumbled into dust. In a matter of moments, only waves rolling towards the shore showed it had ever been there, a glowing shield flickering to life to protect the beach.

Distantly, he felt himself shudder, keeling over the throttles, gasping for breath.

"Gaijin, you should release Spirit-state."

Pushing it to six... might've been a bit much. He grasped the handles, pulling back to four, then two when the buzz slitting through his muscles hung on, letting his Samurai settle on the ground.

Panting, drained, he still couldn't help but smile. "Damn, I'm good at this Spirit-state thing."

Eden scoffed. "Brag when you can reach ten, gaijin."

He huffed a half-laugh, looking up through his now-dulled view, hunting for the vision of a little girl he could've sworn he'd seen, a couple of pale faces peering out of ravaged houses. Through the drizzle and the foggy smoke drifting down the street, he couldn't recognise much of the ruins of the end. One of them looked mostly intact. Surely that was the Inoue house.

"The village is clear." He had to clear his throat of the tightness crawling back into it, his Samurai's feet not seeming to move properly as he walked down the road. "Do we have any more coming in?"

"Sakura's checking. I can't sense anything," Drake responded.

"We should check the village, help with injuries and anyone trapped." Where... was the house again? It should've been right here, but all he could see was a pile of broken wood. "I... keep an ear on your radios if you leave your Samurai. I'm heading out."

He pulled the throttles back to neutral before anyone could protest, setting the core down, the shock absorbers creaking as it rocked faintly. The smell of rain and wood-smoke hit him through his open visor as he popped the hatch, climbing out and leaping to the ground.

His knees wobbled, threatening to buckle, and he took a deep breath, rising and moving towards the pile of rubble.

There wasn't much left. It had to be the wrong spot, because he couldn't recognise a thing. Some of the wood had been scorched, the tiled roof down in chunks, a jagged line of wall jutting up on the left side, stairs on the right....

The patter of the rain on his helmet faded to static, disappearing altogether as he slipped it off with trembling hands. The picture of a little house with rickety stairs and an entranceway leading into a cramped living/dining room and cozy kitchen fitted in too neatly.

Something peeked beneath splintered wood, and he nudged it aside to find a tiny sandal. One of Tobira's, with a little kaiju sticker he'd bought from town pasted proudly on the band.

Oh god.

His hands shook as he put down the helmet to pick it up, a shaky breath pounding in his ears. They'd been at home. He hadn't been able to put on his sandals—

Oh god—

"No." He squeezed it in his fist, his pulse drowning out the sound of rain, his boots crunching on wood and something ceramic as he lurched forward, his heart lodging in his throat. "No no no God no please oh God—"

Couldn't seem to catch his breath. Was that a coat? Something ragged had lodged on a piece of wood, and he clambered over to it, his hand meeting rough black fabric he couldn't feel through his gloves. A coat. Oji's coat.

"Oji?" He choked out. There was no body, no blood, no— "Oji!"

He snapped around, the shout tearing from his throat. "Tobira! Oba! A-Aiko?"

No one answered. He couldn't hear anything but the rain and the pounding of his heart filling his ears, throbbing in his skull. Trying to choke in air, he stumbled over the ruins, hunting desperately for something, anything.

Instead he nearly fell as his legs gave out, leaning heavily against a post jutting up out of the ground, a droning buzz creeping in from his ears to his vision, black spots crawling in from the edges. He couldn't feel his hands. He couldn't see.

Something high-pitched cut through the rain. A voice.

"—san?"

He whirled around, a jagged breath filling his lungs. Oh God. Oh God let it be real.

A pale little wide-eyed face looked at him from the front of the house, holding a little boy by the hand, Ariake standing behind them. Her white dress with its cherry-blossom patterns had turned a sodden, sooty grey, a streak of red on the sleeve. Tear-tracks trailed down Tobira's face, a cut on his leg.

"Aiko. Tobira," he choked out.

"Onii-channnn—" her face twisted, and she tried to scramble up on the rubble, her own shoes missing, Tobira with her.

He stumbled over and caught them before they could get any further into the mess, carrying them away from the sharp edges and collapsing back on the road, holding them tight. They were alive. They were alive—

"Onii-chan." Aiko hugged him back fiercely, tears in her voice. "We're okay, and Kaasan and Otou-chan are okay. Don't be sad. Please don't be sad."

His hand pressed into the back of her head, hers and Tobira's heartbeats steady in his ears, soot and mud clinging to their scents, and he tried to breathe.

"It's okay Onii-chan, you don't need to cry, I think everyone else is okay too." Her voice shook, and he wished he could tell her it was alright, but he couldn't catch the air for it. He shook and he couldn't seem to stop.

They were okay. Not corpses lying under the rubble, staring sightlessly at their own blood. They were okay. Barely even injured.

Another presence joined them, and Oba's hand rested on the back of his head, saying words he couldn't quite make out through a jagged inhale. It came back out in a choked sob, and that broke a dam. He couldn't stop it.

"Ah Roku-san. Roku...." She folded them all into her arms. He could almost believe it was golden hair instead of greying black that tickled his damp cheek. Almost believe it was a different voice, but she was long gone. His shoulders shook violently, the rain drenching them all. He couldn't hold it back.

His face pressed into her shoulder, her warm hand rubbing at his heaving back next to a smaller one, a soft little whisper under her deeper hum. "It's okay, Onii-chan...."

The rain kept falling.