Viral Love

I’d forgotten Hojo’s strength. How could I forget? He’d subdued me easily after shooting me in the lab so many years ago. The little bastard was stronger than seven able men.

He ate his kabob and collapsed in the thick blanket of pine needles. His hair tie had fallen out at some point, making all that blue-black hair spread out like a fan. Dappled light filtered through the green canopy overhead, the same shade of green I’d seen circling the black of his eyes only a few minutes ago. When truly angry, an electric lime nimbus ringed his black irises.

I’d only seen that halo twice. Once, just before he shot me, and again just now.

He jerked several times with fatigue before completely falling asleep. I’d seen plenty of fellow Turks do that, especially when returning from a long, draining mission. Those little autonomous movements meant great weariness. That didn’t bother me especially. What worried me was how he curled up in a fetal position.

Hojo made a good front most of the time, looking put together and in control, but I knew that façade false. After taking a lot of pressure, he became unhinged. His mind couldn’t take a constant hammering. He could yet become a liability to me out here, though I didn’t see how our argument could have pushed him into this little withdrawal.

I felt better for having eaten. The bloodlust seemed pushed back a little, in the rear of my concerns instead of the forefront. Maybe Hojo had been correct. Maybe I did have to act human in order to stay human.

For some reason I felt like going over to him. It was like a soft, subtle pulling. I didn’t like it at all. I wanted to stay far away from him, so why did my body feel such a strange draw? I didn’t desire him, didn’t like him, had no use for him.

A butterfly came into our little camp and lit on Hojo’s arm. He felt it. Awakening, he turned his head to look at the colorful insect. Slowly, he sat up and coaxed it onto his finger. Straightening his glasses, he peered at it a long time, black eyes dim with the desire to sleep, but also quite interested. He turned it this way and that, and it stayed still for him, only gently fanning its wings in readiness. “You’re a cactus butterfly,” he murmured. “What are you doing in a woodland, and so close to the cold winds of the continent above?”

“It’s just a stupid butterfly,” I said.

Hojo’s eyes sharpened. “Is it?” He looked at me over the tops of his little spectacles, and I got the distinct impression he thought I was the stupid one. “A butterfly is never just a butterfly, Valentine,” he lectured. “These creatures lead short, delicate lives, lives dependant upon a specialized local ecosystem. This little thing shouldn’t be here.”

I heard a rustling in the thick undergrowth. Hojo heard it too. We got up and faced the noise, which grew louder and louder. Hojo moved to stand beside me, shaking his hand and bringing his materia bracelet down farther.

It burst out of the treeline. A cactuar. A very large, very heavy cactuar. Unlike the others I’d seen, it didn’t seem nervy or inclined to run from us.

“Shit,” Hojo said in an almost cheerful voice. “Well, what’s the plan of attack, Mr. Woodsman?”

“You’re such a smart ass,” I muttered, bringing up his gun. I didn’t really want to use it since we had limited ammo.

“It should be weak against water,” Hojo mused.

The cactuar seemed to swell. I knew that sign. “Get down!” Lowering the gun, I grabbed Hojo and shoved him to the ground, covering him. “It attacks with-.”

I didn’t get to finish. I roared in pain as thousands of needles pierced my body. Each one made a burning hot puncture. I felt instant anger, which turned into mindless rage as another volley of needles embedded into me. Molten darkness stirred in my soul, pushing the human back and the demons forth.

I never know what I do when in a beast form. Everything becomes a haze of fury and the desire to hurt anything in front of me. My vision becomes reddened and I hurt down to my bones and veins. So, I wasn’t surprised to suddenly be sitting in a soft carpet of pine, disoriented, with Hojo picking needles out of my skin.

“Well, you got him,” he said, a wry smile twisting his mouth. “I’m impressed. I’ve never seen a cactus monster explode before.” He yanked out a barb, adding it to a pile nearly three inches high. “What happens to your clothing when you transform? It should get ripped to shreds.”

I shrugged, but the motion brought so much pain I pulled it short. Hojo took my hand, forcing my arm straight gently. “Try to be still. The creature’s needles have venom sacks. If you weren’t wearing solid leather from head to foot, you’d be in poisoned bloody tatters right now.”

I closed my eyes. Hojo kept talking, but for once I didn’t mind. His low, dark voice became a focus, allowing me to distance myself from the painful ordeal of needle removal.

“I have to say, your beast form is formidable,” he said. “You sprout wings, gain about a hundred pounds of muscle and another foot of height. You took the cactus thing out with one hit.”

“Cactuar,” I informed. “It’s called a cactuar.” I’d turned directly into Chaos? I usually became Galian Beast first, or so my friends had reported.

“It’s more demonic than that animal you turned into,” Hojo said, sounding disgusted. “I’m very grateful you didn’t let it rip me apart. Thank you.”

I had no idea why I’d been moved to protect him like that, so I didn’t say anything.

“I’m pretty certain cotton pants and a flannel shirt wouldn’t have protected me much,” he prattled on.

“Please don’t make me into a hero,” I said, feeling tired and sick. “I’m no more a hero than you are.” I didn’t have the energy for this discussion. “I really don’t want your gratitude.”

“Tough shit.” Hojo got up and went to my back, where the majority of the needles hit. “This is going to take awhile, Valentine,” he said, sighing.

“I’m sure.” I closed my eyes again.

He plucked the horrible little barbs from me for nearly two hours. I pulsed all over with pain. The smell of bloody venom made my stomach churn. At least Hojo progressed with swift, gentle efficiency. He had a deft hand for this sort of thing.

“The venom shouldn’t cause you too much concern,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m finished. Can you feel any more needles I might have missed?”

“No.” I got on my stomach and rested my head on my folded arms. This brought me level with the needle pile. I stared hatefully at it. At least I’d killed the wretched cactuar. I vowed I’d kill any that came across my path, hunt them even.

Hojo left me for a little while. I couldn’t sleep for pain, but I did drift a bit. When he came back, he squatted beside me. “Can you get your top off?”

Slowly, I sat up and complied. Rolling up the pin-pricked leather, I put it down so I could use it for a pillow. Something wet and cold and wonderful touched my enflamed skin. “Halvana leaves,” Hojo told me quietly. “Not as good as aloe, but surely of some relief.”

Relief didn’t come close to describing it, not at all. It was like a cool blanket smothering flames. I relaxed almost instantly, dropping back to the ground. Hojo carefully applied more and more of the blessed, heat-drawing leaves. I groaned long and low, almost orgasmic in my bliss.

“You should be healed up by nightfall,” Hojo assured. He patted the top of my head in a startling version of doctor-bedside-manner kindness. “I have more leaves, so just wake me up if the ones already on your back start losing their effect.”

I’d indeed do that. Oh yes.