His breath was coming out in ragged bursts, his limbs were on fire, and he was moments away from hurling his guts up, but still Ariyama pressed on. He didn't know what Genichirou was even doing at this school, not really. He didn't know his plans in the slightest, just as he barely knew his own plans. He was unconfident, inadequate, incompetent.
But kept fighting.
Because Genichirou wasn't going to lay a hand on Kazura.
And he needed some payback for the damage he inflicted on Matsune too.
Genichirou spat on the floor as another three knives were deflected. Once each one got knocked away, they skittered across the ground before eventually dissipating into smoke. Did that indicate there was a limit to how many knives he could have deployed at once?
If so, Ariyama could use that to his advantage.
"Dammit, don't you ever quit?"
Genichirou threw his hand up, but Ariyama was ready this time, and tensed his whole body. He wasn't too sure about the properties of the mana that circulated around his body, but he imagined it like he was a massive, weirdly-shaped pipe, and his mana was water flooding his insides. He focused the water into his legs, and willed the dam to burst. He wasn't sure if it actually did anything, but he felt as if power bloomed through his legs, giving him a monetary boost.
Genichirou still had his knife raised, about to split it into copies.
Ariyama had to reach him first, he had to. He had to get there. He had to get there. He had to get the–
He got there.
Genichirou audibly gasped as Ariyama reached him just as his knife began to shimmer. Bringing his sword up, Ariyama knocked the knife – the proper Enchanted Tool – from the blonde's hands, and couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I wanna show off."
Ariyama dipped his left shoulder as he reeled his right fist back and hit Genichirou in the face like a freight train. Even the impact and weight behind that punch made Ariyama's own bones shudder. He felt Genichirou's nose burst beneath his knuckles, but he knew that wasn't enough. He was riding on a high now, and wouldn't quit until Genichirou was out of the picture. Ariyama wouldn't kill him, but he could do plenty worse.
His dark thoughts scared him, but he executed his idea regardless.
His fist still pressed into Genichirou's nose, Ariyama stuck out his thumb and twisted his hand, jamming his thumb into Genichirou's right eye. Genichioru screamed as his eyeball popped, and Ariyama screamed as he felt it happen. He felt even more sick, disgusted as he felt the wet surface of the eye, then the gushing flow of it bursting.
Ariyama pulled back and let Genichirou stagger back, hands at his face, screaming bloody murder.
"YOU… ARGH, YOU SON OF A–"
Genichirou didn't even finish his sentence, and dipped low and launched himself at Ariyama.
What? Huh?
Ariyama was staring at the blood covering his knuckles and thumb, trying not to vomit over the memories of the feeling of the eye exploding, when a knife was slid into his side.
Genichirou stumbled away, falling to his knees, shaking but not screaming anymore. No, it was Ariyama's turn now.
"AAAGGHH!"
What? How the hell had Genichirou made another knife, if the Enchanted Tool was out of his grasp?
His question was answered when he fell back onto his ass, looking to his side and seeing a knife clutched in Genichirou's hand. It had a royal blue handle, while all the others had black, including the one Ariyama had knocked away, and the one sticking out of him.
It was a dummy. It wasn't the proper knife.
Shit.
Ariyama's vision darkened in the corners as the fact he'd just been stabbed set it. Shaking with pain and slowly-dying anger, he looked down at the knife in his side, watching in slow-motion as red seeped out of the wound and stained his dark hoodie.
God. Oh, God, no,
Not now. Please. If he died now, Kazura would be at Genichirou's mercy. Maybe before, he would've let her leave, but since she'd witness the fight, she was now disposable.
Shit, shit, SHIT!
Ariyama gasped as the pain faded for just a moment, and in that moment, he looked up.
Just as Genichirou, swaying on his two feet, spoke something Ariyama couldn't hear and fired a knife.
Kazura was sitting against the lockers.
And that knife, dug into her arm.
This wasn't like the slash she received from the Shrine's arrow trap.
The knife pierced her and she shrieked as blood pumped out.
Ariyama roared as he watched Genichirou struggling towards Kazura, clearly intent on finishing the job.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
Somebody, please!
Give me control.
What? Idolseus?
Just for a moment. Unless you want the girl to die?
"I… No, I don't want her to die…"
Then give me control. For a split second so I can save her.
"I don't trust y–"
Then you leave Kazura Machi to die. Your choice, boy.
"But… Shit, fine, OK. Take control."
Ariyama felt the Pilgrim's smile echo through his consciousness, and then he was enveloped in black.
When the boy rose, he wasn't Ariyama. It was his body, but there was another mind in control. His hair flowed with glowing light. His eyes were like exploding suns.
The burning heat of the light alerted Genichirou, and he half-turned as he fired another knife at Kazura Machi's skull.
But the boy moved faster. He brandished his sword of crackling heat, burning bright white, and swung it sharply. There was an ear-splitting sound that shattered the atmosphere and gouged a line in the floor, also cleaving the flying knife in two.
Genichirou cursed under his breath in disbelief, taking a step back, raising his proper Enchanted Tool, ready to summon another dozen knives to–
The line burned in the floor exploded, and the whole section of titles shattered like glass. Genichirou yelled as he fell through the gap in the floor and disappeared in a cloud of plaster and dust, falling straight down to the first floor.
But by that time, the boy was back in his body, standing up straight and wondering why the knife and wound in his side were gone.
The pain. It was gone.
Completely gone.
Ariyama wiped away some blood still sticking to his hoodie, but sure enough, the only hole in him was the one through the fabric – the wound was thoroughly healed, without leaving even a scar.
Was that… Idolseus's power? Ariyama surveyed the damage, seeing the dust still rising from the big gap in the floor now. But when he saw the barely-conscious Kazura laying just beyond the rubble, his attention switched to her. He sprinted along the perimeter of the hole, reaching her beside the lockers and falling to his knees, instinctively checking her wound. Luckily, the knife hadn't hit her in the heart or brain, but blood was still leaking profusely from the gash in her shoulder. The knife itself must have someone fallen out, or she had ripped it out on instinct herself, or even the heat from Ideolseus's attack – which Ariyama only vaguely remembered – had burned it to ash.
And what even were his powers exactly? Had he actually swapped consciousnesses with Ariyama and taken control of his body, even if it was only for a few seconds. Regardless, Ariyama felt a chill in his skull afterwards.
But no. Kazura was the main priority right now.
Ariyama had already failed to save one of his best friends, and he was not going to watch the other die in front of him.
No, goddammit. He wouldn't let it happen, not now. Never again.
His mind racing, he forced himself to calm down. If he didn't steady himself, Kazura would bleed out before his very eyes.
"S-Saato~"
Kazura mumbled as she reached up to grasp at space. Ariyama took hold of her hand and pressed it to her chest.
"Shush, just save your strength. Don't talk, OK?"
His mind free of obstacles now, a clear idea came to Ariyama. He quickly placed his sword on the ground, then peeled his sweat-drenched hoodie off. Grabbing his sword again, he drew the shattered blade across the hoodie and sliced off the sleeve. Taking hold of Kazura's frail arm, he lifted it and quickly applied the torn-off sleeve, wrapping it around the wound in her bicep, tying it to staunch the bleeding. She still needed the hospital, but at least now, she wasn't going to bleed out any moment.
Ariyama wiped sweat from his forehead, sitting back and breathing out a long sigh of relief.
She was safe. For now.