A/N: so, here's my take on Hiroomi's scars. you know, the usual. family stuff. thanks for the lovely reviews and hopefully you'll continue to enjoy. btw: i've noticed Mitsuki actually refers to Izumi as "Nee-sama" rather than "Nee-san". i'll be fixing the previous chapters sometime soon, hopefully.

Protector;

All she sees is red: red, red, red –there's so much red. But it makes her feel better because the half-youmu's yells of pain are more than enough to drown out the memory of her younger siblings' screams.

"T-the half-youmu had transformed!" Ninomiya Shizuku had said that morning, having barged in uninvited as Izumi had typed away on her laptop.

But what made Izumi disappear like a flash was what Shizuku had uttered amidst the heaves of her breaths.

"Mitsuki and Hiroomi are there, trying to –"

It had been more than enough to let her know that she needed to hurry.

/

There's fire.

Trees that surround the forest are burning in waves of flames, the smoke engulfing the air like hungry tides.

Izumi jumps from branch to branch, ignoring the streaks of fire licking her clothes as she hones in on the sounds of yells and explosions. Balls of flames light up the smoky sky with no direction, burning anything and everything as it whirls towards the ground, spots of ember dropping onto the leaves that shield trees.

"MITSUKI!"

"ONII-CHAN!"

Her speed increases instantly at the sound of her younger siblings' shrill cry, her legs picking up the pace with every raise of her knee. The muscles across her thighs ache for rest, her feet beginning to numb after numerous hard launches and rough landings they take with each branch she reaches.

She slashes with fists clenched on the metal rod of her weapon, arms making wide circular motions as her double-bladed spear-turned-whip make fast concise cuts across stray branches, the sharp ends whipping and recoiling under her rhythmic command.

She has to go faster.

"ONII-CHAN!"

Faster.

"ONII-CHA –"

Izumi's eyes widen at the sight of her younger sister flying into a tree, the ominous crack that erupts as soon as Mitsuki's back meets the trunk resounding deafeningly in her ears.

She's merely frozen atop a burning tree, vaguely aware that the branch she stands upon was beginning to give.

They're just – they're just lying there, on the ash-colored floor, specks of burnt wood and leaves and grass flitting about the air like snow; soft and gentle and calm. The pool of red that covers Hiroomi is a stark contrast as he lay there on his stomach, his back stained by the dreaded color Izumi has learned to hate.

Mitsuki is out cold against a tree, her hands and arms and clothes wearing the same color that blankets Hiroomi, the trunk adorning a large crack across its skin.

Her eyes flit slowly towards the half-youmu standing idly in the center of it all, his back slumped and green-black-cracks of energy surrounding his form as he stares at her motionless siblings like they were still a threat.

As soon as balls of fire appear above him, Izumi makes a cut across his face, the fluttering of ash as evidence of her speed. The color mars his face as he growls, redirecting the flames towards her despite the lack of distance.

Izumi doesn't relent in her assault, her weapon's form switching back and forth between large swipes of her standard and jaded-whip spear, the blades now sharing the same shade of red.

The half-youmu – monster, she screams inside; you monster – yells out with every cut she makes as he attempts to make a hit at her. The color that stains his face gets in the way and his attacks never make it any further than a lift of his arms, not with how she doesn't stop.

All she sees is red: red, red, red –there's so much red. But it makes her feel better because the half-youmu's yells of pain are more than enough to drown out the memory of her younger siblings' screams.

She won't stop. No, of course not. Not for what this monster did – this monster hurt them, he hurt them, he hurt them!

It was the sole reason why she never shares her burdens with them – never shares her obligations, her responsibilities, her decisions. This was why she always had to do things herself.

She couldn't risk feeling this much pain – this hurt, this scared, this anxious – when she knew she could prevent it by simply keeping her siblings out of the bigger picture.

But here she was and there they were: bleeding out with their lives staining the ash-covered floor.

The monster needs to bleed. It was immortal anyway.

"Nee-sama –"

Bleed.

"Nee-sa –"

Bleed.

"Izumi-Neesama –"

Bleed.

"Stop!"

Bleed, monster.

"Izumi-Neesama!"

She stops, her face feeling drenched with something warm and wet. Her breaths come out as short, but heavy, huffs – her chest and shoulders visibly rising and dropping with each intake of air. Her ears no longer ring of the chant that echoed in her head, and blinks away the haze that shields her eyes.

She sees the half-youmu drop to its knees, her spear embedded through its chest. Izumi pulls, satisfied with the sound of her blade scratching against skin before it comes free, the color she learned to hate dripping precariously from the tip as she cradles it by her side. The monster falls face first just in front of her feet.

Izumi places a hand over her face, wipes most of the blood that covers her skin, before turning around and spotting Mitsuki tending to Hiroomi's injuries.

Her steps are slow and calculative, with every rise and fall of her feet measuring the distance between her and her younger siblings. Has she always been this far from them? Has it always taken this long to reach them? Have they always been this far away?

"Izumi-Neesama…" Mitsuki calls out, her voice uncharacteristically meek, quiet – soft. There had always been a certain sharpness in it, but right now, it isn't there.

Izumi's afraid that it's fear – of her – that blankets her sister.

When she really looks, Mitsuki flinches at every step she takes closer towards them. Izumi had made sure her footfalls weren't heavy and her stride not demanding, yet Mitsuki is still…

"… Mitsuki?" Hiroomi's voice is weak and small.

Izumi watches as he struggles to sit up, wincing with every motion he makes, Mitsuki guiding him along until he manages to sit on his own pool of red.

His look is mixed with fear and surprise.

"Nee-san…"

She lets her eyes scan over them: roam over their battered figures, note every cut that mars their skin, recognize the staining color that they both share, and memorize the same fear reflecting across their eyes for her.

Izumi can feel that her clothes are still wet. When she looks down, her shirt is no longer white, her sweater tied around her waist sharing the same dreaded color. And so are her arms, and hands, and legs, and face; something warm and wet drips from her jaw.

She almost laughs. No wonder they're scared.

She's a monster.

They say nothing once she finally reaches them, merely towering over them in silence. Izumi stands there looking at their eyes and hoping there'd be something else she'll see, before she drops to her knees because she can no longer handle staring at the fear they carry for her.

Her weapon lies precariously somewhere beside her amidst the ashes and pools of red as she pulls her siblings towards herself, each arm circled over each sibling. Their gasps of surprise register vaguely in her mind as she cradles them close, pulls them in so she can feel their hearts beat and their breaths tickle her neck.

They're warm. Alive.

Relief washes over her like sheets of cotton and silk; it's soft and comforting.

"Izumi-Neesama?"

"…Nee-san?"

The surprise lining both of their voices are warm against her, and it makes her feel a little better about herself – about being a monster – but when she feels their own arms hesitantly wrap around her waist, like they accept her for what she's become – what she is – Izumi holds them tighter.

Izumi holds them as close as she can, closes whatever distance that's between them, all because they've always been apart.

She's the older sister. She should be protecting them. And yet…

Izumi can feel tears well up in her eyes. She's normally not this vulnerable – not this weak – but she figures that since Hiroomi and Mitsuki can't see, she's allowed to cry.

She hears Kanbara Akihito cough somewhere behind her, a strained gasp leaving his lips as he sucks in breaths of air, choking as if liquid pooled in his throat – blood, she notes vaguely – crackling against the silence.

She will destroy Beyond the Boundary. Whatever it takes.

18.12.13