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[FIC][Shounen Onmyouji/Tactics] and all come to ash, part 2
and all come to ash [part 2]
Shounen Onmyouji/Tactics -- some Haruka/Kantarou, Guren/Masahiro if you squint, but mostly gen(!)
Spoilers for the Tsugumi storyline (tactics) and AU for the Kazane-Hen ending (Shounen Onmyouji)
14141 words
In which Minamoto Raikou makes a gamble, Kantarou meets several gods, and Touda gets badtouched a lot.
See part 1 for notes/spoiler explanations.
[[CONTINUED FROM PART 1]]
+++++
Touda spreads his claws wide and looks at his hands.
Four new seals have been placed upon him: two for each wrist, made of silver that burns coldly to the touch. Minamoto's seals are not as strong as the one Seimei gave him, but they are more elaborate to look at; writhing snakes and stylized flames are etched into the silver bands. There are spells written into their curves and twists, which he can see if he looks carefully, but makes his head hurt if he tries for too long.
He raises a palm and concentrates. The most he can summon is a brief sputtering flame that's hardly more than a will o' the wisp. He narrows his eyes and feels the inferno raging, trapped, unable to manifest in the real world. It's a strange feeling: he's not cut off from his flames, and it rises to his command when he summons it -- but it gets stifled before it can manifest, doused before it comes into being.
"Ahh," says a woman's voice; Touda looks up and sees Minamoto's pet oni closing the door behind her. "Testing your boundaries, are you?"
He bares his teeth at her. "I didn't agree to this," he says, and thrusts a hand out to her. Light sparks off the silver at his wrist. "I want these off."
She smiles. "Those? You'll have to blame me for them. The boy's terribly overconfident in his skills sometimes -- I, on the other hand, am not interested in this house burning down when I'm still inside." Her eyes narrow as her smile stretches wider, red mouth and pale skin. "Besides, here we have the strongest of the Twelve Shinshou, Kyoushou Touda. It's only common sense to have precautions."
Touda glares for a moment and drops his arm. They stare at each other for long moments, the pretty red-eyed oni and the glowering fire-god, and finally he says, "So what the hell does he want, anyway?"
The oni lifts an elegant brow. "A loaded question," she says. She presses a finger to her lips thoughtfully. "'The rebirth of Japan,' I believe he said? Something terribly human. He takes pride in that."
He continues to stare. "... then what do you want?"
She laughs at that, bright and clear as a girl. "The same thing you do," she says. "The revival of my master."
"Heh!" He snorts. "As though an oni would really miss a master."
The oni looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. She gets up and then she drops into a low curtsy before him, bowing her head. Through the fall of her long pale hair, her eyes glitter. "I haven't introduced myself yet. Forgive my rudeness."
"Why the hell should I care who you--"
"My name," she says, pronouncing every syllable to exaggerated deliberation, "is Ibaragi Douji. I seek the revival of my master, Shuuten Douji."
He falls back in shock. "Shuuten Douji," he repeats. "The great oni of Mt. Ooe? That Shuuten Douji?"
Ibaragi smiles. "His bones are sealed within this estate," she says. "The boy knows where they are, and he's been very clever to hide them from me thus far. But that's only a matter of time." She gets to her feet and goes to him, starting to reach out; Touda grabs her wrist before she can touch his hair, holding onto her wrist so tightly that he can feel the bones grind together.
"Don't," he says. "Don't --"
The fingers of her other hand press to his cheek. Her eyes glitter. "He has all of the information you want," she says. "All you need to do is find it."
Touda gapes at her for a moment, poleaxed, then jerks his head back though he does not let go of her wrist. "Why are you telling me this?" he demands. "Oni don't do anything for a reason, even if they're selfish."
"Ah, perhaps it's that," Ibaragi says. "You wanted to know what the boy wants from you, but you have to also understand what we want, first." She steps closer and touches his cheek again before fisting her fingers hard in his hair. "We need you as an example. Our figurehead, as it might be, to show what happens to those who are pitiful enough to willingly lower themselves below a human's control."
He snarls and twists and tightens his hand -- it would be easy to snap the bird-fragile bones of her wrist with a little pressure -- then gags as pain racks through him, starting from the seals at his own hands and moving outwards. He lets go of her, but she doesn't do the same for him and he hangs, caught by his hair and shaking.
"The details were a little different," she says softly, "but the outcome is the same. You don't even remember that child's name, and you're still absolutely his, aren't you? How sad, seeing creatures as great as you and the Oni-Eater fall like that." Her lips twist, and then she shoves his head back, letting go as she does and stepping away. "Rather pathetic, in fact."
Touda breathes slowly a few times and straightens. "What about you, then?" he asks. "You talk so big, but here you are, working for a human."
She clucks her tongue. "Do you think?"
"Your name--"
"Was never given to me by a human." She draws herself and looks down at him, her eyes glittering, and for a moment he sees through the mask of the oni, through the thin veils of woman and into the creature underneath. "Of all those born in this world, only gods and oni are born with names. I will take no other." She crosses her arms under her breasts and she looks at him closely, like one might examine a peculiar stain on the floor. "But it's already too late for you."
He tries to get to his feet, to lunge for her. He gets as far as standing before his knees buckle and he sinks back into the chair. Around his arms, the silver bands glow. "That's not--"
"The boy's already beaten you," Ibaragi says. The pity in her eyes burns worse than the seals on his power. "The years have sapped your power, Shinshou. But that's all right." She draws her fingers through his hair again, a parody of kindness. "You'll have what you wanted, soon enough."
+++
"I remember the human child," Takaokami no Kami says. Her smile isn't quite an actual smile, and her eyes are dark and piercing. "He was clever, but he was also noble, and therein was his downfall."
Kantarou remains silent, watching shapes appear and vanish again within the water's surface. His reflection is that of a boy, years younger, with dark hair and earnest eyes. It doesn't move when he does, just staring out at the world over Kantarou's shoulder with a regret that that is old, and tired, and bitter.
"He thought he could make things right by erasing his existence from memory with his death. He thought it would make things easier. Ah, but what a price his last request carried ..." Without a sound, without even movement, Takaokami no Kami is by Kantarou's side; Haruka tenses, but remains still when all she does is kneel by the water, peering down. "Human child," she says, this time not to Kantarou but to the water, "human child, too small to see the larger picture of the world ..."
The boy in the water frowns -- slowly, in shifting degrees by each ripple of the water -- and turned to look at her. His lips move without a sound.
She reaches in and slides her hand into the water, around where his heart should be. His eyes go wide, and then the image breaks up; a moment later, Kantarou is looking at just himself in the water.
"Keeping a ghost bound is bad luck, even for a god," he says at last.
"Bound? Hardly." Takaokami no Kami tosses her hair and looks at him; her eyes glitter in the weak light. "He hides here, and I tolerate it. Out of fondness for his grandfather, I suppose; Seimei was always charming when he wished to be."
"Hiding?" Kantarou looked down again. "From what?"
She shrugs, trailing her fingers back and forth through the water. "What couldn't he hide from?" she asks. "The consequences of his mistakes? The loneliness he left in his loved ones, even if they didn't remember him properly? Knowing that everyone he held dear lived on without him, that the world didn't just stop with his death? The realization his dream would never come true? There are so many things you humans run away from."
Kantarou swallows against a sudden, unexpected sharpness in his throat. Before he can stop himself he turns his head to look at Haruka, and finds himself being watched in return. Instinctively he wants to turn away, but forces himself to meet Haruka's eyes as he says, "But if you're always running away, nothing will ever change. Leaving problems behind only lets them fester."
Maybe he imagines it, but it seems Haruka smiles at that, just a little.
Takaokami no Kami sighs and runs a hand through her long hair. "That's also a very human way of seeing things," she says. "The older you get, the more you realize--"
"No," Haruka says. It's unexpected, and his voice is quiet; both Kantarou and Takaokami no Kami look to him. "It's not always like that. Sometimes it's a good thing to face things as a human might."
Kantarou stares till his eyes ache. "Haruka ..."
The dragon-god looks at the oni-eating tengu, and then tosses her head back and laughs. It's a bright rippling sound, like the cascade of water over smooth stones. "Warrior's wisdom," she says. "And from you, of all beings in this world! How times have changed." She crosses her arms and tilts her head at an angle, and her smile is all sharp teeth. Unwavering, she meets Haruka's eyes, and says, "You're truly ..."
"I made the choice," says Haruka. "I'll stick with it."
"Eh?" Kantarou asks. "'Truly'? Truly what? Haruka?"
"My." Takaokami no Kami covers her mouth. "You'd go even that far ..."
"That far?" Kantarou echoes; they're not as cryptic as they seem to think they are, but he's almost afraid to jump to conclusions. He turns and looks up into Haruka's serious face, angry without pale-eyed threat. "Eh, what, Haruka, what's that mean--"
Haruka puts a hand on Kantarou's shoulder. "I made the choice to follow," he says. "I never had it before. Since it was given to me, I'll take it, wherever it leads me."
"Even to ... ?" Her voice trails off suggestively. She rakes Kantarou up and down with a heavily considering gaze and Kantarou blushes at the gleam in her eyes. He rubs his cheeks and has to look down.
To his surprise, Haruka's hand tightens further. "Even there," he says.
Kantarou's head snaps up so fast that his neck protests. His heart trips into a sudden fast rhythm, so hard and fast that it feels like it's skipping beats, and his throat feels swollen and tight. All the things he meant to say if they ever got this far -- the cute or clever or sentimental phrases he'd saved up if Haruka ever accepted that much of him -- they dry up and crumble to dust. Only shock remains, shot through with sudden bitter fear. If the gap between humans and youkai was almost too wide to support just friendship, than this ... this ...
"... Haruka," he says. The grip on his shoulder changes, and he feels Haruka's thumb sweep in a half-circle on his shoulder, like a caress. He can't look up -- he's pretty sure that eye-contact will make him lose his nerve -- but he reaches out and covers Haruka's wrist with his hand. His skin is cool to the touch, and the bones are oddly delicate, more like those of a bird than a man.
Takaokami no Kami watches them and shakes her head. "No matter how many like you came before, it'll never be easy," she says -- still to Haruka, though she glances briefly at Kantarou as she speaks. "Disaster might still come."
"When you live with this idiot human," Haruka says, "you get used to it."
"Hey," Kantarou protests. "Haruka! Ehh, how mean, and right after making such a big confession like that--"
"If it's the truth, it's the truth," Haruka says, though he doesn't let go of Kantarou's shoulder. "Confessions don't change that."
"Ehh, Haruka--"
As they argue, Kantarou slowly becomes aware of another sound: under the babbling liquid voice of moving water, there's something else, rough and quiet. He cuts himself off and turns towards the pond, and sees Takaokami no Kami raise an eyebrow at him. Gently he pulls away from Haruka, squeezing that wrist one last time, then approaches the water again. The closer he gets, the louder and more distinct the sound becomes.
It sounds like crying.
Kantarou kneels beside the water and sees the reflection of the boy -- Seimei's grandson and lost heir -- covering his face with his hands, thin shoulders shaking. He looks small and miserable, and Kantarou wonders how old he must have been, when he died.
"Hey," he says softly. "You miss someone, don't you?"
The boy's head jerks up; his face is tearstained and blotchy, and he looks so ridiculously young that something in Kantarou's chest twists. His lips move without sound, but the words are obvious: how did you know?
"Recently," he goes on, still soft, "there was a ghost haunting the Seimei Jinja in Kyoto. I spoke with some of the youkai there, and they said it was one of your grandfather's Shinshou. According to them, it was the one you were close with."
The ghost in the water recoils, then looks away. His image starts to grow fainter, broken up by the ripples in the water.
"He's been taken," Kantarou says. The ghost starts and looks at him again, suddenly more solid than before. "One of my -- well, one of Haruka's, the Oni-Eating Tengu's -- enemies came after him. They took him from the shrine. I don't know why they want him, but I can guarantee they're not going to be kind. He might be hurt." Another flinch from the child. "Or even killed, I wouldn't put it past Minamoto to do that ..."
Horror fills the boy's eyes. He shakes his head fiercely, pressing both hands flat against the surface of the water, like it's a prison. His lips move, shaping the same word over and over: no, no, no, no.
"I heard about what you did," Kantarou says gently. "But even if he forgot, there's still a bond between the two of you, right? You remember him, and maybe you can make him remember you. If he can do this, he might come after Haruka next, and ..." He glances over his shoulder, and sees Haruka standing beside Takaokami no Kami, both with identical unreadable expressions. "... and I don't want that. I don't want anything to happen to Haruka if I can do something."
He takes a deep breath to steel himself; the scars on his chest ache dimly, as though in reminder of his own specific frailty. Ignoring that, he reaches down and places his hands on the water, palm-to-palm with the boy reflected inside. A shock goes through him, ice-cold and fierce, and he sees the ghost's eyes widen as well.
"Will you help me?" he whispers. The best part about having false pride, he thinks, is that it's so much easier to ask for things that will work in his favor. "Please."
"My," he hears Takaokami no Kami say, though her voice is somehow unfathomably distant. "That is one way to do it."
Haruka says nothing. Kantarou doesn't dare look to see what his expression is like, fixating only on the boy in the water.
"Will you?" he asks again.
The boy looks steadily at him, nods, and cold pours into him, scouring everything to darkness.
+++
"Oh, Guren," Seimei says. He smiles, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Look, it's Yoshimasa's youngest son, my last grandson. They've decided on naming him--"
Without opening his eyes, Touda smashes his fist into the wall. The contact with the wards embedded in the cement make his skin smoke, but he holds it for long minutes, breathing hard. His head pounds in a heartbeat-steady rhythm, and he has to lock his knees in order to remain standing. He misses the shrine more than he believed possible, an additional ache to add to all the frustrations of this past week.
He wants that name back. He wants to remember how he lost it.
Touda hits the wall again, then looks up when he hears the door unlock. It swings open, and the oni is there, in a low-cut red dress and matching gloves, her long pale hair loose and curling around her shoulders. She carries her shamisen like one might a sword. That same mix of pity and amusement was in her eyes as before, and her red mouth is a wide smile.
"Such timing," she says. "There's someone we'd like you to meet."
And she steps aside so that the doorway is open, though her eyes glitter and the wards on Touda's wrists tighten in warning.
He wants to turn aside; he wants to defy her obvious expectations; he wants to catch her by her slim neck and squeeze until she's forced to answer him.
Instead, with his head high, he strides out the door as she asked, and listens to her footsteps echoing behind him.
+++
"Of all the things you might have done, Sensei," Raikou says, "showing up like guests at the front door wasn't one of them."
Ichinomiya smiles at him, tightlipped and humorless. He looks paler than normal, even in the hot yellow light of day, and leans a little against the Oni-Eater's arm for balance. The Oni-Eater, in turn, allows this, and something in the look of it makes Raikou study them both more closely.
"It's because you're a stupid brat," Ichinomiya says. "You're too obsessed with dramatic fiction, Minamoto."
Raikou smiles himself. He presses his thumb to Doujikiriyasuna's hilt, popping the blade just out of its sheath. He does not move away from the gate. "I'm young," he says. "I'm allowed fancies that might be unseemly in an older man." He looks pointedly at where Ichinomiya clutches the Oni-Eater's sleeve -- subtly, almost out of sight, but not careful enough. "Always dreaming, aren't you, Sensei?"
Ichinomiya frowns. The Oni-Eater says, "Hey. You."
"How cruel," Raikou says. "I have a name, after all, and one I was born with. I'm human, Oni-Eater, it's safe to call me by it."
The Oni-Eater's eyes narrow. "Hey you, I said."
Raikou spreads his hands, as though to admit defeat. "Such rude language, and here on my own property--"
"We know it's here," says the Oni-Eater, ignoring his complaints. "The god you stole."
"Stole!" Raikou affects insulted shock, pressing one hand to his heart and keeping the other firm on Doujikiriyasuna. "As though gods were just petty merchandise? Those are bold words, Oni-Eater." He leans forward, letting his voice drop to a lower, intimate register when he adds: "And he was hardly bound to that place. If he came with me, what argument do you have?"
"Because he didn't come of his own free will," Ichinomiya says. He meets Raikou's eyes evenly, somehow holding solid though he is palefaced and trembling from some internal strain. "That's not how you work, is it, Minamoto?"
"Sensei," he tsks. "I'm hurt. How can you think I forced anyone?"
Behind him, the front doors of the estate house open. He glances over his shoulder and smiles at Ibaragi, who smirks back at him and tosses her pale hair over one shoulder. The trapped god stands before her, squinting at the sun like it's a stranger; on his wrists, the charmed manacles glow with their own inner life. Ichinomiya draws in a sharp breath. The Oni-Eater growls.
"Well," Raikou admits, "other than the obvious." He turns back to Ichinomiya and the Oni-Eater, still smiling. "How about a contest, then?" he asks. "The Oni-Eater, the strongest of all youkai, and the strongest of the twelve Shinshou, that would be--" He pauses, then, and frowns. "Sensei, are you all right?"
Ichinomiya has started outright panting. Sweat beads his forehead and his upper lip, and he leans obviously against the Oni-Eater. He clutches his chest, though Ibaragi is a good twenty feet from him. The Oni-Eater puts an arm around his thin shoulders, supporting him, and looks up at the god descending the stairs towards them. He ducks and whispers something that even Raikou, close as he is, cannot catch. Ichinomiya gasps a few times, eyes squeezed shut; it takes him a few tries before he can lift his head and peer blindly up. Raikou watches them both. In the bright sunlight, something is wrong. Ichimomiya's figure flickers and wavers for a moment, like a heat mirage, or a bad reflection, or--
His eyes go wide. "You," he gasps. "How did you--"
Slowly, Ichinomiya wets his lips. They move. His voice is thin and shaking. "--ren," he whispers.
The god pauses. His gold eyes go wide as he looks hard at Ichinomiya, seeing the same odd flicker that surrounds the man.
Breathing heavily, Ichinomiya straightens and lets go of the Oni-Eater's shoulder, and is released in turn. He takes a step forward and staggers, almost into Raikou, who reaches for him -- to catch him or detain him, he can't say which -- and stops.
"Bastard," he says softly. He doubts Ichinomiya can hear him. "You bastard."
To surprise, Ichinomiya glances at him and grins, nasty and sharp. There are folklorists who mutter about Ichinomiya Kantarou's flippancy, and they've never seen him smile like that. Raikou narrows his eyes in response, but instead of challenge him, Ichinomiya looks up at the god again. He squares his shoulders, and for a moment the sun off his hair picks up strange dark lines, as though his white hair could actually reflect shadows.
"... Guren," he says, and holds up his arms. For a moment, there's a boy in his place, clear and solid as though alive -- a boy with long dark hair, dressed in the kariginu of a Heian noble family -- and then the illusion is gone but Ichinomiya remains, trembling hard. He seems barely balanced on his feet, and yet he still holds steady as the god approaches. A smile turns his mouth, softer than the one he shot at Raikou a moment before: a smile more appropriate for a child and simultaneously far too old, and the god staggers as though struck.
"Guren," Ichinomiya says again. There's an echo in his voice. "Guren, I'm sorry."
As though struck, the god reels back. Ibaragi steps neatly out of his path. On his brow, the silver circlet gleams.
"You," he says, his voice rough. "You're ..."
"I made you suffer, didn't I." Ichinomiya doesn't lower his arms, and takes another step forward. "I left you alone. I thought I was doing the right thing. I'm sorry."
"Don't ..." The god glances aside, eyes wild. Ibaragi sets her shamisen on her hip, watching with narrowed eyes; Raikou himself abandons pretense and draws his sword. "Don't ..."
"Guren," Ichinomiya says. "Guren, it's me--"
"Ah," Raikou says. He steps forward, turning Doujikiriyasuna's blade to Ichinomiya's neck. He sees the older man startle, and the ghost inside flinches away from the sword's purification spells. He smiles and pushes almost gently; a bright thin line of blood appears on Ichinomiya's pale skin before he steps back. "No interfering, Sensei, or you, oh wandering spirit. Today is for the Oni-Eater and Kashou Touda."
The Oni-Eater snorts and cleans one ear with his pinky. "I'm not interested in that sort of thing," he says. "If you're going to go off and get me involved in these things, at least be polite enough to ask first."
Raikou smiles, still pushing Ichinomiya back a step at a time. "I'll ask, then," he says, and Ibaragi runs her pick across the shamisen's strings, picking out a long rippling stream of notes.
The god cries out. He lurches forward, muscles straining in his neck and teeth bared, and the Oni-Eater's eyes narrow. Raikou stops and sidesteps, sword still to Ichinomiya's neck, but no longer standing between him and the approaching god. "Here, Oni-Eater: just a contest. You're both evenly matched, aren't you? It shouldn't be difficult for you."
All the Oni-Eater does is blink. "Why should I?"
Raikou lifts an eyebrow. "Why shouldn't you?" he asks. He catches hold of Ichinomiya's wrist and squeezes hard until it earns him a noise of pain. "Unless you're that heartless, in which case, perhaps Sensei is better off dissolving your name after all."
Ichinomiya shifts a little, looking up at him. A pained smile lifts his mouth. "You're always such a brat," he says. "Aren't you."
Politely he inclines his head. "I'm the darling eldest son," he says. "Of course I've been spoiled, Sensei. And I like for things to go my way." He tugs Ichinomiya closer, back to his chest, then looks to the Oni-Eater. "Do we have an understanding?"
The Oni-Eater's lip curls. "It's in bad taste," he mutters, but his wings unfurl from his back, and the shakujou materializes. He strikes it against the stone path once, the rings clashing loudly, and looks upon the face of an angry god without blinking. "Ah, this is a pain."
Raikou steps back, pulling Ichinomiya with him. Ibaragi changes the rhythm of her playing, and the god lunges, flames roaring to life around his outstretched arm. He watches with interest as the Oni-Eater ducks out of the way, wings flattened to avoid the blast, and rushes forward. The god almost doesn't manage to summon his own weapon in time, but the two clash with the sound of ringing steel, pressed tightly together for a heartbeat before they rip apart. The air smells of singed feathers.
Within the hook of his arm, Ichinomiya draws in a sharp breath -- one that is less him, and more the ghost possessing him. Raikou looks down.
"How could you?" the boy asks, looking wide-eyed and unhappy through Ichinomiya's own youthful face. "Guren's not like that! How could you make him--"
"I didn't make him do anything," Raikou cuts off smoothly. "The only thing I did was bind him. Ibaragi's only making suggestions."
"Suggestions!" The boy's voice cracked; he's nearly trembling in his rage. "They're not -- you're making him fight --"
"No," says Raikou. "That's just his nature. I never named him, after all. I can't coerce him into anything."
"That's--" The boy draws in a sharp breath. For a moment he pulls away from Ichinomiya again. By Seimei's writings, his last grandson had come of age officially before his death, but his face was still baby soft and rounded, all unfulfilled potential. He stares at where the Oni-Eater and the god come together and split again, fire and lightning meeting and crashing apart, then sinks back into his host.
"He never compelled Touda-sama, either," Ichinomiya says softly. "The name 'Guren' came from Abe no Seimei. But Masa--"
Raikou covers his mouth. "Tsk, Sensei," he says. "Don't give away our ace just yet."
Ichinomiya looks skeptical. He catches Raikou's wrist and pulls it down. "Minamoto," he says. "Getting involved with higher-level gods is always dangerous, you know."
"No more dangerous than giving your heart and home to the Oni-Eating Tengu," Raikou returns. "Besides, at this point, he hardly remembers any of his real strength. He's been sealed twice over, didn't you notice?"
"The circlet," Ichinomiya says. "Your down?"
"Of course not." Raikou feigns embarrassment. "Sensei, you flatter me. No, that one's much older than either of us." He turns and watches as the Oni-Eater ducks a wild blow and sweeps with the shakujou, catching the god across his bare stomach and flinging him backwards, into the wall hard enough to crack it. "It's a fairly even fight, don't you think?"
"It's disgusting," Ichinomiya says, anger warning his voice. "Pitting them against each other like this -- for what? What do you want, Minamoto?"
"Ahhh." Raikou sighs, and leans down, his cheek to Ichinomiya's own. "You already know that, don't you, Sensei? You're a smart man."
Ichinomiya closes his eyes. "... the Oni-Eater's name."
"The Oni-Eater's defeat," Minamoto corrects. "I have a ... sponsor who's very interested in meeting him again. They were close, a long time ago, and she misses him so much."
Ichinomiya starts. "What?"
Raikou winks, one finger to his lips. "Shhh," he says. "I'm telling you secrets, Sensei."
There's a loud crash, and the sound of living wood splintering and snapping. The Oni-Eater lies sprawled in the remains of a grandfather tree. Blood streaks half his face, which is twisted into an animalistic snarl. Over him the god rears up, trident poised over the Oni-Eater's chest, and fire wreathes him like living armor.
"My," Raikou says. "How unfortunate."
Ibaragi plucks a single twanging note, and the god brings his trident down. In Raikou's arms, Ichinomiya and his ride-along ghost both cry out.
The Oni-Eater bellows in pain, twisting towards his pinned wing and then rising up, pale eyes glittering. He grasps the shaft of the trident and wrenches it up and out, flinging it aside. It stabs into the earth at an angle, trembling with the force of the throw. The injured wing drags, but that doesn't stop him from rearing up to an impressive and terrible height, and the god falls back, snarling in response. He trips over a torn branch and falls, and the Oni-Eater pounces, claws drawn back for the killing blow.
"Game over," Raikou says. He smiles, eyes bright; he feels Doujikiriyasuna's hunger like his own. "The Oni-Eater still is that strong ..."
And then in his arms Ichinomiya lurches forward. "Haruka! No!"
For just a moment -- a split second, but just enough -- the Oni-Eater hesitates. The god kicks up, knocking him aside, and the trident rips itself from the ground, flying back to his hand. He staggers back to his feet, panting.
"Shut up," Raikou snarls, tries to catch hold of Ichinomiya's mouth again. "Shut up, shut up, shut up--"
"Touda-sama!" Ichinomiya cries, clawing at Raikou's arms. "Touda-sama, listen to me! His name, I know his--" The rest of his words strangle as Raikou catches him by the throat. Desperation lends extra strength to him, but it's not enough -- Raikou holds him with difficulty, but still in place, and the more he struggles, the darker his face becomes as air deserts him.
"Ibaragi!" Raikou shouts. "Do it! Kill him!"
Under his hands, Ichinomiya begins to glow. Surprised, he pauses, and so is caught by surprise when the ghost tears away from the host, solid for the first heartbeat of separation, but rapidly dissolving.
"Stop him!" Ibaragi shouts back. Her fingers move rapidly across the shamisen, playing a song with a war beat that drives the god forward again and again, one lurching step at a time. "Boy, don't let him--"
"Guren!" the ghost cries. "GUREN!"
And just like that, the god goes completely still. The flames around him flare blue-hot for a moment, then simply wink out. The Oni-Eater staggers back to his feet, clutching at his wounded wing; after a moment sanity returns to his face, and he limps away.
The god turns his head slowly, looking at the ghost. Upon his brow, the silver circlet is beginning to crack. "... you ..."
"Ah," the ghost whispers. His eyes fill. "Guren, do you remember me?"
The god shakes his head. "I don't," he starts, and cuts himself out. "How do you know that name? You're not--"
"How? Because you told me, Guren." The ghost smiles. "It's me. You remember me, right? I'm--"
Raikou launches himself forward and swings Doujikiriyasuna down. The sword sings as it cuts through the air, and it slices through the ghost like it was true flesh.
All it has time for is a sharp jerk, eyes wide and mouth rounding.
Then it fades, leaving only a few sparkling fireflies of light, which quickly wink out in turn.
The god stares where the ghost stood, then looks up. Each movement creates fresh cracks in the circlet he wears. He drops the trident and staggers forward, lifting an arm like he could call the ghost back from the meikai. His lips move silently, and then, silently, the circlet simply dissolves to powder and vanishes.
And the god screams, clutching at his temples and falling to his knees. Fire explodes around him in a tight cocoon, and he's lost to sight.
+++
"They've decided on a name.
"It's Masahiro."
+++
Kantarou looks up as Haruka drops beside him. Immediately he reaches up, and hesitates before his fingers can actually touch the injured wing. "Haruka," he says, his voice hoarse, "Haruka, are you all right? I mean, other than the obvious, but ..."
Haruka blinks at him, then shrugs with his good shoulder. "It'll heal," he says. "Sugino will have medicine for it."
"Ah," Kantarou says, and manages a weak smile. "He'll yell at us both, won't he, for getting you beaten up like this ..."
Haruka snorts, but lets Kantarou draw his arm over his shoulders, letting his master drag them both away -- the way Touda's fire is so tightly contained, they might have a chance escaping before it sets fire to the Minamoto gardens. "Don't take so much credit for these things," he says. "It's not all about you."
Kantarou blinks at him. "But you still chose to fight because of me," he says. "Ehh, Haruka, does this mean you really--"
"If you're going to obsess over embarrassing things like that," Haruka tells him, "I'll take them all back."
"Ehhh, no," Kantarou protests. "Haruka!"
Haruka just rolls his eyes. He pauses then and looks up at the burning god. Minamoto stands nearly opposite of them, on the steps of his estate, and for all of his impulsive action before, he now stands stone-still, assessing the situation with narrow eyes. He holds himself with predatory care, but the fire is too hot for even him to approach. Somewhere within, Touda continues to scream.
Kantarou looks back and forth for a moment, then carefully disentangles himself from Haruka, who looks confused.
"Wait here," he says, before Haruka can protest. He lifts a hand to shield himself as best as he can, skirting as far around Touda's presence as the garden walls will allow, and still feels hair and cloth burning and blistering; it seems (he thinks with some wry self-deprecation) Haruka will not be the only one making use of Sugino's healing salves. He closes his eyes and hopes, placing one foot before the other, until he feels a strong hand catch his shoulder, and Minamoto say, "Sensei, as funny as accepting your confession would be, I don't think now is the time."
Kantarou grins, all teeth. "Shut up, you pompous brat," he says, but clutches at Minamoto's sleeves for a moment, for balance. "Call Masahiro-kun back."
"Hmm?" Minamoto gives him a perfectly bland expression. "What for?"
"Because." Kantarou glances over his shoulder; the flames have grown higher now, and he can no longer see Haruka around them. "If you don't, we're all going to die here."
"You might," Raikou says. "If you weren't smart enough to plan in case of emergencies like Ibaragi and I have, Sensei, that's hardly my fault."
"Ah," Kantarou says, and looks up. "But I'm not going to release Haruka's name before I die, if it happens this way."
Minamoto freezes. His eyes narrow.
"And Haruka," Kantarou goes on, still grinning with all his teeth bared, "don't you think he'll come after me? I'm his stupid master, after all. I hold his name. No matter what, wouldn't he try to keep me safe? Even if it means that he'll be burned up in the process ..."
Minamoto growls faintly -- it's a low, almost animal sound, nearly as good as one of Haruka's. "Sensei," he says. "Unfair."
"That's why you should be more careful to think ahead," Kantarou says. He fists his hands in Minamoto's uniform and yanks until they're eye to eye. "Call Masahiro-kun back."
+++
Touda has been here before, he knows: in this dark and cold place, where the heat has been sucked out of everything and channeled outwards. This is his rage, which destroys everything and leaves him standing alone. Bright patterns move across his eyelids, like the afterimages of staring into something too bright. He's been here before, and that was--
"That was my fault too, wasn't it?"
He opens his eyes.
Masahiro stands before him, looking up at him, still so young, still so small. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out.
"I'm sorry," Masahiro says, and takes both of Touda's hands in his own. "I'm sorry, Guren."
He shakes his head, still unable to speak. He feels Masahiro squeeze his hands.
"I just wanted you to stop hurting," Masahiro goes on. "I wanted you to forget all those painful things that made everyone hate you. I wanted you to let go of your guilt. I thought maybe it'd be worse if you remembered everything to do with me, so ... I asked Grandfather ..."
"Masahiro," he breathes. "Masahiro ..."
"I never forgot you," Masahiro says, and though he's shaking, he doesn't look away. "I never forgot! Not ever, and that ... that was hard. I regretted leaving you like that."
Touda sinks to his knees, so that they're on eye-level. "Why," he says softly. "Why did you ... Touda is a god, he lives on ..."
"But, but--" Masahiro lets go of Touda's hands and catches hold of his face instead. "It would just be 'Touda' then. 'Guren' would be dead."
"Masahiro ..."
"I didn't want that!" Masahiro catches hold tightly of him. "I never wanted -- I couldn't imagine a world without Guren! I still can't! That's why I did it -- I didn't want Guren to die, and I didn't want Guren to be unhappy, so--!"
"Masahiro," Touda says. "I've missed you."
The boy freezes, and when he blinks, tears come trickling down. "Guren ..."
"You can't stay for long, can you?" he asks softly. "With so many regrets, your karma isn't clean at all. You'll have to be reborn."
"Guren--"
"And I'll wait for that," he says. "Seimei's grandson."
"Don't call me--"
He pulls the boy into his arms and holds tightly. The ghost is warm and solid as a living being, and after a moment of shock, he hugs back. The crook of Touda's neck grows wet with tears. It was lonely, one of them doesn't say, and I'm sorry, I was lonely as well the other doesn't reply, and around them, the flames quiet.
+++
"Next time, Sensei," Raikou says, as he straightens his uniform. Over his shoulder, Ibaragi Douji stares at the Oni-Eater without blinking, the pick of her shamisen loose against the strings. It's still too early, and though he hates to give up the hunt as well, he knows the value of a graceful retreat -- even if he's staying and the others are leaving. "I'll look forward to it."
"You'll forgive me," Ichinomiya says dryly, "if I won't."
+++
"In the end, we had to rely on Minamoto after all," Kantarou sighs. "Ahh, that's awful, now we owe him a favor! I'm worried, what would he ask for ..."
Youko clucks her tongue and ignores his jump and whine as she begins rubbing salve into his burned fingers. "If you ask me, he owes you something too," she said. "Otherwise, his entire fancy house would have burned down! And no matter how rich he is, that's just expecting too much! Besides, Ayame-chan was home, wasn't she? Even Minamoto's not so heartless that he'd let his little sister die ..."
Kantarou bites the inside of his cheek, cringing again as she begins to rub salve into the thin skin between his fingers. "I don't know if the man himself would think so, ehhh ..."
"What it means is that your debts cancel each other out," she says firmly. She wraps a fresh bandage around his hand, then pushes the salve into his uninjured one. "There, now, you're done. Make sure Haruka-chan gets his share, all right? He's lucky it didn't hit anything important, ahhh, you stupid men and your stupid posturing ..." She picks herself up and dusts off her kimono.
"Eh, Youko-chan," Kantarou says. "What makes you think Haruka will listen to me?"
She gives him a look, then flicks her forefinger against his forehead. "Kan-chan," she says, long-suffering, "that might work on other people, but Youko-chan knows you better than that. Just ... make sure he gets the medicine before you do anything perverted, okay?"
"P-- perverted!" Kantarou squeaks. "Yo-- Youko-chan!"
"Don't even try playing innocent!" she declares. "I told you, I know better! So be good while I'm at work!" She ruffles his hair hard, and stomps off. She fusses in the genkan for a bit, and then the front door slams shut, like the exclamation point of a sentence.
He watches her go and puts down the salve jar to smooth his hair with his good hand. After a moment, though, he can't help but duck his head and smile. He knows for a fact Haruka is napping in his room, rather than on the roof -- as much a concession to Kantarou's inability to use the ladder at the moment as his own injured wing -- and it will be long hours before Youko comes back.
Whistling to himself, he picks up the jar again and heads for the stairs.
+++
One day in late autumn, a young boy visits the Seimei Jinja with his parents. At some point he gets separated from them, and wanders under the corded-off areas, towards the large pond in the back. He stops under the tree and presses both hands to the trunk, looking up. Whatever he sees in the branches makes him smile, and he stands there beaming until his mother finds him and leads him away.
As he goes he looks over his shoulder, and for a moment his smile is years older.
I'm back, he doesn't say.
Welcome home, the rustling branches don't answer.
Shounen Onmyouji/Tactics -- some Haruka/Kantarou, Guren/Masahiro if you squint, but mostly gen(!)
Spoilers for the Tsugumi storyline (tactics) and AU for the Kazane-Hen ending (Shounen Onmyouji)
14141 words
In which Minamoto Raikou makes a gamble, Kantarou meets several gods, and Touda gets badtouched a lot.
See part 1 for notes/spoiler explanations.
[[CONTINUED FROM PART 1]]
+++++
Touda spreads his claws wide and looks at his hands.
Four new seals have been placed upon him: two for each wrist, made of silver that burns coldly to the touch. Minamoto's seals are not as strong as the one Seimei gave him, but they are more elaborate to look at; writhing snakes and stylized flames are etched into the silver bands. There are spells written into their curves and twists, which he can see if he looks carefully, but makes his head hurt if he tries for too long.
He raises a palm and concentrates. The most he can summon is a brief sputtering flame that's hardly more than a will o' the wisp. He narrows his eyes and feels the inferno raging, trapped, unable to manifest in the real world. It's a strange feeling: he's not cut off from his flames, and it rises to his command when he summons it -- but it gets stifled before it can manifest, doused before it comes into being.
"Ahh," says a woman's voice; Touda looks up and sees Minamoto's pet oni closing the door behind her. "Testing your boundaries, are you?"
He bares his teeth at her. "I didn't agree to this," he says, and thrusts a hand out to her. Light sparks off the silver at his wrist. "I want these off."
She smiles. "Those? You'll have to blame me for them. The boy's terribly overconfident in his skills sometimes -- I, on the other hand, am not interested in this house burning down when I'm still inside." Her eyes narrow as her smile stretches wider, red mouth and pale skin. "Besides, here we have the strongest of the Twelve Shinshou, Kyoushou Touda. It's only common sense to have precautions."
Touda glares for a moment and drops his arm. They stare at each other for long moments, the pretty red-eyed oni and the glowering fire-god, and finally he says, "So what the hell does he want, anyway?"
The oni lifts an elegant brow. "A loaded question," she says. She presses a finger to her lips thoughtfully. "'The rebirth of Japan,' I believe he said? Something terribly human. He takes pride in that."
He continues to stare. "... then what do you want?"
She laughs at that, bright and clear as a girl. "The same thing you do," she says. "The revival of my master."
"Heh!" He snorts. "As though an oni would really miss a master."
The oni looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. She gets up and then she drops into a low curtsy before him, bowing her head. Through the fall of her long pale hair, her eyes glitter. "I haven't introduced myself yet. Forgive my rudeness."
"Why the hell should I care who you--"
"My name," she says, pronouncing every syllable to exaggerated deliberation, "is Ibaragi Douji. I seek the revival of my master, Shuuten Douji."
He falls back in shock. "Shuuten Douji," he repeats. "The great oni of Mt. Ooe? That Shuuten Douji?"
Ibaragi smiles. "His bones are sealed within this estate," she says. "The boy knows where they are, and he's been very clever to hide them from me thus far. But that's only a matter of time." She gets to her feet and goes to him, starting to reach out; Touda grabs her wrist before she can touch his hair, holding onto her wrist so tightly that he can feel the bones grind together.
"Don't," he says. "Don't --"
The fingers of her other hand press to his cheek. Her eyes glitter. "He has all of the information you want," she says. "All you need to do is find it."
Touda gapes at her for a moment, poleaxed, then jerks his head back though he does not let go of her wrist. "Why are you telling me this?" he demands. "Oni don't do anything for a reason, even if they're selfish."
"Ah, perhaps it's that," Ibaragi says. "You wanted to know what the boy wants from you, but you have to also understand what we want, first." She steps closer and touches his cheek again before fisting her fingers hard in his hair. "We need you as an example. Our figurehead, as it might be, to show what happens to those who are pitiful enough to willingly lower themselves below a human's control."
He snarls and twists and tightens his hand -- it would be easy to snap the bird-fragile bones of her wrist with a little pressure -- then gags as pain racks through him, starting from the seals at his own hands and moving outwards. He lets go of her, but she doesn't do the same for him and he hangs, caught by his hair and shaking.
"The details were a little different," she says softly, "but the outcome is the same. You don't even remember that child's name, and you're still absolutely his, aren't you? How sad, seeing creatures as great as you and the Oni-Eater fall like that." Her lips twist, and then she shoves his head back, letting go as she does and stepping away. "Rather pathetic, in fact."
Touda breathes slowly a few times and straightens. "What about you, then?" he asks. "You talk so big, but here you are, working for a human."
She clucks her tongue. "Do you think?"
"Your name--"
"Was never given to me by a human." She draws herself and looks down at him, her eyes glittering, and for a moment he sees through the mask of the oni, through the thin veils of woman and into the creature underneath. "Of all those born in this world, only gods and oni are born with names. I will take no other." She crosses her arms under her breasts and she looks at him closely, like one might examine a peculiar stain on the floor. "But it's already too late for you."
He tries to get to his feet, to lunge for her. He gets as far as standing before his knees buckle and he sinks back into the chair. Around his arms, the silver bands glow. "That's not--"
"The boy's already beaten you," Ibaragi says. The pity in her eyes burns worse than the seals on his power. "The years have sapped your power, Shinshou. But that's all right." She draws her fingers through his hair again, a parody of kindness. "You'll have what you wanted, soon enough."
+++
"I remember the human child," Takaokami no Kami says. Her smile isn't quite an actual smile, and her eyes are dark and piercing. "He was clever, but he was also noble, and therein was his downfall."
Kantarou remains silent, watching shapes appear and vanish again within the water's surface. His reflection is that of a boy, years younger, with dark hair and earnest eyes. It doesn't move when he does, just staring out at the world over Kantarou's shoulder with a regret that that is old, and tired, and bitter.
"He thought he could make things right by erasing his existence from memory with his death. He thought it would make things easier. Ah, but what a price his last request carried ..." Without a sound, without even movement, Takaokami no Kami is by Kantarou's side; Haruka tenses, but remains still when all she does is kneel by the water, peering down. "Human child," she says, this time not to Kantarou but to the water, "human child, too small to see the larger picture of the world ..."
The boy in the water frowns -- slowly, in shifting degrees by each ripple of the water -- and turned to look at her. His lips move without a sound.
She reaches in and slides her hand into the water, around where his heart should be. His eyes go wide, and then the image breaks up; a moment later, Kantarou is looking at just himself in the water.
"Keeping a ghost bound is bad luck, even for a god," he says at last.
"Bound? Hardly." Takaokami no Kami tosses her hair and looks at him; her eyes glitter in the weak light. "He hides here, and I tolerate it. Out of fondness for his grandfather, I suppose; Seimei was always charming when he wished to be."
"Hiding?" Kantarou looked down again. "From what?"
She shrugs, trailing her fingers back and forth through the water. "What couldn't he hide from?" she asks. "The consequences of his mistakes? The loneliness he left in his loved ones, even if they didn't remember him properly? Knowing that everyone he held dear lived on without him, that the world didn't just stop with his death? The realization his dream would never come true? There are so many things you humans run away from."
Kantarou swallows against a sudden, unexpected sharpness in his throat. Before he can stop himself he turns his head to look at Haruka, and finds himself being watched in return. Instinctively he wants to turn away, but forces himself to meet Haruka's eyes as he says, "But if you're always running away, nothing will ever change. Leaving problems behind only lets them fester."
Maybe he imagines it, but it seems Haruka smiles at that, just a little.
Takaokami no Kami sighs and runs a hand through her long hair. "That's also a very human way of seeing things," she says. "The older you get, the more you realize--"
"No," Haruka says. It's unexpected, and his voice is quiet; both Kantarou and Takaokami no Kami look to him. "It's not always like that. Sometimes it's a good thing to face things as a human might."
Kantarou stares till his eyes ache. "Haruka ..."
The dragon-god looks at the oni-eating tengu, and then tosses her head back and laughs. It's a bright rippling sound, like the cascade of water over smooth stones. "Warrior's wisdom," she says. "And from you, of all beings in this world! How times have changed." She crosses her arms and tilts her head at an angle, and her smile is all sharp teeth. Unwavering, she meets Haruka's eyes, and says, "You're truly ..."
"I made the choice," says Haruka. "I'll stick with it."
"Eh?" Kantarou asks. "'Truly'? Truly what? Haruka?"
"My." Takaokami no Kami covers her mouth. "You'd go even that far ..."
"That far?" Kantarou echoes; they're not as cryptic as they seem to think they are, but he's almost afraid to jump to conclusions. He turns and looks up into Haruka's serious face, angry without pale-eyed threat. "Eh, what, Haruka, what's that mean--"
Haruka puts a hand on Kantarou's shoulder. "I made the choice to follow," he says. "I never had it before. Since it was given to me, I'll take it, wherever it leads me."
"Even to ... ?" Her voice trails off suggestively. She rakes Kantarou up and down with a heavily considering gaze and Kantarou blushes at the gleam in her eyes. He rubs his cheeks and has to look down.
To his surprise, Haruka's hand tightens further. "Even there," he says.
Kantarou's head snaps up so fast that his neck protests. His heart trips into a sudden fast rhythm, so hard and fast that it feels like it's skipping beats, and his throat feels swollen and tight. All the things he meant to say if they ever got this far -- the cute or clever or sentimental phrases he'd saved up if Haruka ever accepted that much of him -- they dry up and crumble to dust. Only shock remains, shot through with sudden bitter fear. If the gap between humans and youkai was almost too wide to support just friendship, than this ... this ...
"... Haruka," he says. The grip on his shoulder changes, and he feels Haruka's thumb sweep in a half-circle on his shoulder, like a caress. He can't look up -- he's pretty sure that eye-contact will make him lose his nerve -- but he reaches out and covers Haruka's wrist with his hand. His skin is cool to the touch, and the bones are oddly delicate, more like those of a bird than a man.
Takaokami no Kami watches them and shakes her head. "No matter how many like you came before, it'll never be easy," she says -- still to Haruka, though she glances briefly at Kantarou as she speaks. "Disaster might still come."
"When you live with this idiot human," Haruka says, "you get used to it."
"Hey," Kantarou protests. "Haruka! Ehh, how mean, and right after making such a big confession like that--"
"If it's the truth, it's the truth," Haruka says, though he doesn't let go of Kantarou's shoulder. "Confessions don't change that."
"Ehh, Haruka--"
As they argue, Kantarou slowly becomes aware of another sound: under the babbling liquid voice of moving water, there's something else, rough and quiet. He cuts himself off and turns towards the pond, and sees Takaokami no Kami raise an eyebrow at him. Gently he pulls away from Haruka, squeezing that wrist one last time, then approaches the water again. The closer he gets, the louder and more distinct the sound becomes.
It sounds like crying.
Kantarou kneels beside the water and sees the reflection of the boy -- Seimei's grandson and lost heir -- covering his face with his hands, thin shoulders shaking. He looks small and miserable, and Kantarou wonders how old he must have been, when he died.
"Hey," he says softly. "You miss someone, don't you?"
The boy's head jerks up; his face is tearstained and blotchy, and he looks so ridiculously young that something in Kantarou's chest twists. His lips move without sound, but the words are obvious: how did you know?
"Recently," he goes on, still soft, "there was a ghost haunting the Seimei Jinja in Kyoto. I spoke with some of the youkai there, and they said it was one of your grandfather's Shinshou. According to them, it was the one you were close with."
The ghost in the water recoils, then looks away. His image starts to grow fainter, broken up by the ripples in the water.
"He's been taken," Kantarou says. The ghost starts and looks at him again, suddenly more solid than before. "One of my -- well, one of Haruka's, the Oni-Eating Tengu's -- enemies came after him. They took him from the shrine. I don't know why they want him, but I can guarantee they're not going to be kind. He might be hurt." Another flinch from the child. "Or even killed, I wouldn't put it past Minamoto to do that ..."
Horror fills the boy's eyes. He shakes his head fiercely, pressing both hands flat against the surface of the water, like it's a prison. His lips move, shaping the same word over and over: no, no, no, no.
"I heard about what you did," Kantarou says gently. "But even if he forgot, there's still a bond between the two of you, right? You remember him, and maybe you can make him remember you. If he can do this, he might come after Haruka next, and ..." He glances over his shoulder, and sees Haruka standing beside Takaokami no Kami, both with identical unreadable expressions. "... and I don't want that. I don't want anything to happen to Haruka if I can do something."
He takes a deep breath to steel himself; the scars on his chest ache dimly, as though in reminder of his own specific frailty. Ignoring that, he reaches down and places his hands on the water, palm-to-palm with the boy reflected inside. A shock goes through him, ice-cold and fierce, and he sees the ghost's eyes widen as well.
"Will you help me?" he whispers. The best part about having false pride, he thinks, is that it's so much easier to ask for things that will work in his favor. "Please."
"My," he hears Takaokami no Kami say, though her voice is somehow unfathomably distant. "That is one way to do it."
Haruka says nothing. Kantarou doesn't dare look to see what his expression is like, fixating only on the boy in the water.
"Will you?" he asks again.
The boy looks steadily at him, nods, and cold pours into him, scouring everything to darkness.
+++
"Oh, Guren," Seimei says. He smiles, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Look, it's Yoshimasa's youngest son, my last grandson. They've decided on naming him--"
Without opening his eyes, Touda smashes his fist into the wall. The contact with the wards embedded in the cement make his skin smoke, but he holds it for long minutes, breathing hard. His head pounds in a heartbeat-steady rhythm, and he has to lock his knees in order to remain standing. He misses the shrine more than he believed possible, an additional ache to add to all the frustrations of this past week.
He wants that name back. He wants to remember how he lost it.
Touda hits the wall again, then looks up when he hears the door unlock. It swings open, and the oni is there, in a low-cut red dress and matching gloves, her long pale hair loose and curling around her shoulders. She carries her shamisen like one might a sword. That same mix of pity and amusement was in her eyes as before, and her red mouth is a wide smile.
"Such timing," she says. "There's someone we'd like you to meet."
And she steps aside so that the doorway is open, though her eyes glitter and the wards on Touda's wrists tighten in warning.
He wants to turn aside; he wants to defy her obvious expectations; he wants to catch her by her slim neck and squeeze until she's forced to answer him.
Instead, with his head high, he strides out the door as she asked, and listens to her footsteps echoing behind him.
+++
"Of all the things you might have done, Sensei," Raikou says, "showing up like guests at the front door wasn't one of them."
Ichinomiya smiles at him, tightlipped and humorless. He looks paler than normal, even in the hot yellow light of day, and leans a little against the Oni-Eater's arm for balance. The Oni-Eater, in turn, allows this, and something in the look of it makes Raikou study them both more closely.
"It's because you're a stupid brat," Ichinomiya says. "You're too obsessed with dramatic fiction, Minamoto."
Raikou smiles himself. He presses his thumb to Doujikiriyasuna's hilt, popping the blade just out of its sheath. He does not move away from the gate. "I'm young," he says. "I'm allowed fancies that might be unseemly in an older man." He looks pointedly at where Ichinomiya clutches the Oni-Eater's sleeve -- subtly, almost out of sight, but not careful enough. "Always dreaming, aren't you, Sensei?"
Ichinomiya frowns. The Oni-Eater says, "Hey. You."
"How cruel," Raikou says. "I have a name, after all, and one I was born with. I'm human, Oni-Eater, it's safe to call me by it."
The Oni-Eater's eyes narrow. "Hey you, I said."
Raikou spreads his hands, as though to admit defeat. "Such rude language, and here on my own property--"
"We know it's here," says the Oni-Eater, ignoring his complaints. "The god you stole."
"Stole!" Raikou affects insulted shock, pressing one hand to his heart and keeping the other firm on Doujikiriyasuna. "As though gods were just petty merchandise? Those are bold words, Oni-Eater." He leans forward, letting his voice drop to a lower, intimate register when he adds: "And he was hardly bound to that place. If he came with me, what argument do you have?"
"Because he didn't come of his own free will," Ichinomiya says. He meets Raikou's eyes evenly, somehow holding solid though he is palefaced and trembling from some internal strain. "That's not how you work, is it, Minamoto?"
"Sensei," he tsks. "I'm hurt. How can you think I forced anyone?"
Behind him, the front doors of the estate house open. He glances over his shoulder and smiles at Ibaragi, who smirks back at him and tosses her pale hair over one shoulder. The trapped god stands before her, squinting at the sun like it's a stranger; on his wrists, the charmed manacles glow with their own inner life. Ichinomiya draws in a sharp breath. The Oni-Eater growls.
"Well," Raikou admits, "other than the obvious." He turns back to Ichinomiya and the Oni-Eater, still smiling. "How about a contest, then?" he asks. "The Oni-Eater, the strongest of all youkai, and the strongest of the twelve Shinshou, that would be--" He pauses, then, and frowns. "Sensei, are you all right?"
Ichinomiya has started outright panting. Sweat beads his forehead and his upper lip, and he leans obviously against the Oni-Eater. He clutches his chest, though Ibaragi is a good twenty feet from him. The Oni-Eater puts an arm around his thin shoulders, supporting him, and looks up at the god descending the stairs towards them. He ducks and whispers something that even Raikou, close as he is, cannot catch. Ichinomiya gasps a few times, eyes squeezed shut; it takes him a few tries before he can lift his head and peer blindly up. Raikou watches them both. In the bright sunlight, something is wrong. Ichimomiya's figure flickers and wavers for a moment, like a heat mirage, or a bad reflection, or--
His eyes go wide. "You," he gasps. "How did you--"
Slowly, Ichinomiya wets his lips. They move. His voice is thin and shaking. "--ren," he whispers.
The god pauses. His gold eyes go wide as he looks hard at Ichinomiya, seeing the same odd flicker that surrounds the man.
Breathing heavily, Ichinomiya straightens and lets go of the Oni-Eater's shoulder, and is released in turn. He takes a step forward and staggers, almost into Raikou, who reaches for him -- to catch him or detain him, he can't say which -- and stops.
"Bastard," he says softly. He doubts Ichinomiya can hear him. "You bastard."
To surprise, Ichinomiya glances at him and grins, nasty and sharp. There are folklorists who mutter about Ichinomiya Kantarou's flippancy, and they've never seen him smile like that. Raikou narrows his eyes in response, but instead of challenge him, Ichinomiya looks up at the god again. He squares his shoulders, and for a moment the sun off his hair picks up strange dark lines, as though his white hair could actually reflect shadows.
"... Guren," he says, and holds up his arms. For a moment, there's a boy in his place, clear and solid as though alive -- a boy with long dark hair, dressed in the kariginu of a Heian noble family -- and then the illusion is gone but Ichinomiya remains, trembling hard. He seems barely balanced on his feet, and yet he still holds steady as the god approaches. A smile turns his mouth, softer than the one he shot at Raikou a moment before: a smile more appropriate for a child and simultaneously far too old, and the god staggers as though struck.
"Guren," Ichinomiya says again. There's an echo in his voice. "Guren, I'm sorry."
As though struck, the god reels back. Ibaragi steps neatly out of his path. On his brow, the silver circlet gleams.
"You," he says, his voice rough. "You're ..."
"I made you suffer, didn't I." Ichinomiya doesn't lower his arms, and takes another step forward. "I left you alone. I thought I was doing the right thing. I'm sorry."
"Don't ..." The god glances aside, eyes wild. Ibaragi sets her shamisen on her hip, watching with narrowed eyes; Raikou himself abandons pretense and draws his sword. "Don't ..."
"Guren," Ichinomiya says. "Guren, it's me--"
"Ah," Raikou says. He steps forward, turning Doujikiriyasuna's blade to Ichinomiya's neck. He sees the older man startle, and the ghost inside flinches away from the sword's purification spells. He smiles and pushes almost gently; a bright thin line of blood appears on Ichinomiya's pale skin before he steps back. "No interfering, Sensei, or you, oh wandering spirit. Today is for the Oni-Eater and Kashou Touda."
The Oni-Eater snorts and cleans one ear with his pinky. "I'm not interested in that sort of thing," he says. "If you're going to go off and get me involved in these things, at least be polite enough to ask first."
Raikou smiles, still pushing Ichinomiya back a step at a time. "I'll ask, then," he says, and Ibaragi runs her pick across the shamisen's strings, picking out a long rippling stream of notes.
The god cries out. He lurches forward, muscles straining in his neck and teeth bared, and the Oni-Eater's eyes narrow. Raikou stops and sidesteps, sword still to Ichinomiya's neck, but no longer standing between him and the approaching god. "Here, Oni-Eater: just a contest. You're both evenly matched, aren't you? It shouldn't be difficult for you."
All the Oni-Eater does is blink. "Why should I?"
Raikou lifts an eyebrow. "Why shouldn't you?" he asks. He catches hold of Ichinomiya's wrist and squeezes hard until it earns him a noise of pain. "Unless you're that heartless, in which case, perhaps Sensei is better off dissolving your name after all."
Ichinomiya shifts a little, looking up at him. A pained smile lifts his mouth. "You're always such a brat," he says. "Aren't you."
Politely he inclines his head. "I'm the darling eldest son," he says. "Of course I've been spoiled, Sensei. And I like for things to go my way." He tugs Ichinomiya closer, back to his chest, then looks to the Oni-Eater. "Do we have an understanding?"
The Oni-Eater's lip curls. "It's in bad taste," he mutters, but his wings unfurl from his back, and the shakujou materializes. He strikes it against the stone path once, the rings clashing loudly, and looks upon the face of an angry god without blinking. "Ah, this is a pain."
Raikou steps back, pulling Ichinomiya with him. Ibaragi changes the rhythm of her playing, and the god lunges, flames roaring to life around his outstretched arm. He watches with interest as the Oni-Eater ducks out of the way, wings flattened to avoid the blast, and rushes forward. The god almost doesn't manage to summon his own weapon in time, but the two clash with the sound of ringing steel, pressed tightly together for a heartbeat before they rip apart. The air smells of singed feathers.
Within the hook of his arm, Ichinomiya draws in a sharp breath -- one that is less him, and more the ghost possessing him. Raikou looks down.
"How could you?" the boy asks, looking wide-eyed and unhappy through Ichinomiya's own youthful face. "Guren's not like that! How could you make him--"
"I didn't make him do anything," Raikou cuts off smoothly. "The only thing I did was bind him. Ibaragi's only making suggestions."
"Suggestions!" The boy's voice cracked; he's nearly trembling in his rage. "They're not -- you're making him fight --"
"No," says Raikou. "That's just his nature. I never named him, after all. I can't coerce him into anything."
"That's--" The boy draws in a sharp breath. For a moment he pulls away from Ichinomiya again. By Seimei's writings, his last grandson had come of age officially before his death, but his face was still baby soft and rounded, all unfulfilled potential. He stares at where the Oni-Eater and the god come together and split again, fire and lightning meeting and crashing apart, then sinks back into his host.
"He never compelled Touda-sama, either," Ichinomiya says softly. "The name 'Guren' came from Abe no Seimei. But Masa--"
Raikou covers his mouth. "Tsk, Sensei," he says. "Don't give away our ace just yet."
Ichinomiya looks skeptical. He catches Raikou's wrist and pulls it down. "Minamoto," he says. "Getting involved with higher-level gods is always dangerous, you know."
"No more dangerous than giving your heart and home to the Oni-Eating Tengu," Raikou returns. "Besides, at this point, he hardly remembers any of his real strength. He's been sealed twice over, didn't you notice?"
"The circlet," Ichinomiya says. "Your down?"
"Of course not." Raikou feigns embarrassment. "Sensei, you flatter me. No, that one's much older than either of us." He turns and watches as the Oni-Eater ducks a wild blow and sweeps with the shakujou, catching the god across his bare stomach and flinging him backwards, into the wall hard enough to crack it. "It's a fairly even fight, don't you think?"
"It's disgusting," Ichinomiya says, anger warning his voice. "Pitting them against each other like this -- for what? What do you want, Minamoto?"
"Ahhh." Raikou sighs, and leans down, his cheek to Ichinomiya's own. "You already know that, don't you, Sensei? You're a smart man."
Ichinomiya closes his eyes. "... the Oni-Eater's name."
"The Oni-Eater's defeat," Minamoto corrects. "I have a ... sponsor who's very interested in meeting him again. They were close, a long time ago, and she misses him so much."
Ichinomiya starts. "What?"
Raikou winks, one finger to his lips. "Shhh," he says. "I'm telling you secrets, Sensei."
There's a loud crash, and the sound of living wood splintering and snapping. The Oni-Eater lies sprawled in the remains of a grandfather tree. Blood streaks half his face, which is twisted into an animalistic snarl. Over him the god rears up, trident poised over the Oni-Eater's chest, and fire wreathes him like living armor.
"My," Raikou says. "How unfortunate."
Ibaragi plucks a single twanging note, and the god brings his trident down. In Raikou's arms, Ichinomiya and his ride-along ghost both cry out.
The Oni-Eater bellows in pain, twisting towards his pinned wing and then rising up, pale eyes glittering. He grasps the shaft of the trident and wrenches it up and out, flinging it aside. It stabs into the earth at an angle, trembling with the force of the throw. The injured wing drags, but that doesn't stop him from rearing up to an impressive and terrible height, and the god falls back, snarling in response. He trips over a torn branch and falls, and the Oni-Eater pounces, claws drawn back for the killing blow.
"Game over," Raikou says. He smiles, eyes bright; he feels Doujikiriyasuna's hunger like his own. "The Oni-Eater still is that strong ..."
And then in his arms Ichinomiya lurches forward. "Haruka! No!"
For just a moment -- a split second, but just enough -- the Oni-Eater hesitates. The god kicks up, knocking him aside, and the trident rips itself from the ground, flying back to his hand. He staggers back to his feet, panting.
"Shut up," Raikou snarls, tries to catch hold of Ichinomiya's mouth again. "Shut up, shut up, shut up--"
"Touda-sama!" Ichinomiya cries, clawing at Raikou's arms. "Touda-sama, listen to me! His name, I know his--" The rest of his words strangle as Raikou catches him by the throat. Desperation lends extra strength to him, but it's not enough -- Raikou holds him with difficulty, but still in place, and the more he struggles, the darker his face becomes as air deserts him.
"Ibaragi!" Raikou shouts. "Do it! Kill him!"
Under his hands, Ichinomiya begins to glow. Surprised, he pauses, and so is caught by surprise when the ghost tears away from the host, solid for the first heartbeat of separation, but rapidly dissolving.
"Stop him!" Ibaragi shouts back. Her fingers move rapidly across the shamisen, playing a song with a war beat that drives the god forward again and again, one lurching step at a time. "Boy, don't let him--"
"Guren!" the ghost cries. "GUREN!"
And just like that, the god goes completely still. The flames around him flare blue-hot for a moment, then simply wink out. The Oni-Eater staggers back to his feet, clutching at his wounded wing; after a moment sanity returns to his face, and he limps away.
The god turns his head slowly, looking at the ghost. Upon his brow, the silver circlet is beginning to crack. "... you ..."
"Ah," the ghost whispers. His eyes fill. "Guren, do you remember me?"
The god shakes his head. "I don't," he starts, and cuts himself out. "How do you know that name? You're not--"
"How? Because you told me, Guren." The ghost smiles. "It's me. You remember me, right? I'm--"
Raikou launches himself forward and swings Doujikiriyasuna down. The sword sings as it cuts through the air, and it slices through the ghost like it was true flesh.
All it has time for is a sharp jerk, eyes wide and mouth rounding.
Then it fades, leaving only a few sparkling fireflies of light, which quickly wink out in turn.
The god stares where the ghost stood, then looks up. Each movement creates fresh cracks in the circlet he wears. He drops the trident and staggers forward, lifting an arm like he could call the ghost back from the meikai. His lips move silently, and then, silently, the circlet simply dissolves to powder and vanishes.
And the god screams, clutching at his temples and falling to his knees. Fire explodes around him in a tight cocoon, and he's lost to sight.
+++
"They've decided on a name.
"It's Masahiro."
+++
Kantarou looks up as Haruka drops beside him. Immediately he reaches up, and hesitates before his fingers can actually touch the injured wing. "Haruka," he says, his voice hoarse, "Haruka, are you all right? I mean, other than the obvious, but ..."
Haruka blinks at him, then shrugs with his good shoulder. "It'll heal," he says. "Sugino will have medicine for it."
"Ah," Kantarou says, and manages a weak smile. "He'll yell at us both, won't he, for getting you beaten up like this ..."
Haruka snorts, but lets Kantarou draw his arm over his shoulders, letting his master drag them both away -- the way Touda's fire is so tightly contained, they might have a chance escaping before it sets fire to the Minamoto gardens. "Don't take so much credit for these things," he says. "It's not all about you."
Kantarou blinks at him. "But you still chose to fight because of me," he says. "Ehh, Haruka, does this mean you really--"
"If you're going to obsess over embarrassing things like that," Haruka tells him, "I'll take them all back."
"Ehhh, no," Kantarou protests. "Haruka!"
Haruka just rolls his eyes. He pauses then and looks up at the burning god. Minamoto stands nearly opposite of them, on the steps of his estate, and for all of his impulsive action before, he now stands stone-still, assessing the situation with narrow eyes. He holds himself with predatory care, but the fire is too hot for even him to approach. Somewhere within, Touda continues to scream.
Kantarou looks back and forth for a moment, then carefully disentangles himself from Haruka, who looks confused.
"Wait here," he says, before Haruka can protest. He lifts a hand to shield himself as best as he can, skirting as far around Touda's presence as the garden walls will allow, and still feels hair and cloth burning and blistering; it seems (he thinks with some wry self-deprecation) Haruka will not be the only one making use of Sugino's healing salves. He closes his eyes and hopes, placing one foot before the other, until he feels a strong hand catch his shoulder, and Minamoto say, "Sensei, as funny as accepting your confession would be, I don't think now is the time."
Kantarou grins, all teeth. "Shut up, you pompous brat," he says, but clutches at Minamoto's sleeves for a moment, for balance. "Call Masahiro-kun back."
"Hmm?" Minamoto gives him a perfectly bland expression. "What for?"
"Because." Kantarou glances over his shoulder; the flames have grown higher now, and he can no longer see Haruka around them. "If you don't, we're all going to die here."
"You might," Raikou says. "If you weren't smart enough to plan in case of emergencies like Ibaragi and I have, Sensei, that's hardly my fault."
"Ah," Kantarou says, and looks up. "But I'm not going to release Haruka's name before I die, if it happens this way."
Minamoto freezes. His eyes narrow.
"And Haruka," Kantarou goes on, still grinning with all his teeth bared, "don't you think he'll come after me? I'm his stupid master, after all. I hold his name. No matter what, wouldn't he try to keep me safe? Even if it means that he'll be burned up in the process ..."
Minamoto growls faintly -- it's a low, almost animal sound, nearly as good as one of Haruka's. "Sensei," he says. "Unfair."
"That's why you should be more careful to think ahead," Kantarou says. He fists his hands in Minamoto's uniform and yanks until they're eye to eye. "Call Masahiro-kun back."
+++
Touda has been here before, he knows: in this dark and cold place, where the heat has been sucked out of everything and channeled outwards. This is his rage, which destroys everything and leaves him standing alone. Bright patterns move across his eyelids, like the afterimages of staring into something too bright. He's been here before, and that was--
"That was my fault too, wasn't it?"
He opens his eyes.
Masahiro stands before him, looking up at him, still so young, still so small. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out.
"I'm sorry," Masahiro says, and takes both of Touda's hands in his own. "I'm sorry, Guren."
He shakes his head, still unable to speak. He feels Masahiro squeeze his hands.
"I just wanted you to stop hurting," Masahiro goes on. "I wanted you to forget all those painful things that made everyone hate you. I wanted you to let go of your guilt. I thought maybe it'd be worse if you remembered everything to do with me, so ... I asked Grandfather ..."
"Masahiro," he breathes. "Masahiro ..."
"I never forgot you," Masahiro says, and though he's shaking, he doesn't look away. "I never forgot! Not ever, and that ... that was hard. I regretted leaving you like that."
Touda sinks to his knees, so that they're on eye-level. "Why," he says softly. "Why did you ... Touda is a god, he lives on ..."
"But, but--" Masahiro lets go of Touda's hands and catches hold of his face instead. "It would just be 'Touda' then. 'Guren' would be dead."
"Masahiro ..."
"I didn't want that!" Masahiro catches hold tightly of him. "I never wanted -- I couldn't imagine a world without Guren! I still can't! That's why I did it -- I didn't want Guren to die, and I didn't want Guren to be unhappy, so--!"
"Masahiro," Touda says. "I've missed you."
The boy freezes, and when he blinks, tears come trickling down. "Guren ..."
"You can't stay for long, can you?" he asks softly. "With so many regrets, your karma isn't clean at all. You'll have to be reborn."
"Guren--"
"And I'll wait for that," he says. "Seimei's grandson."
"Don't call me--"
He pulls the boy into his arms and holds tightly. The ghost is warm and solid as a living being, and after a moment of shock, he hugs back. The crook of Touda's neck grows wet with tears. It was lonely, one of them doesn't say, and I'm sorry, I was lonely as well the other doesn't reply, and around them, the flames quiet.
+++
"Next time, Sensei," Raikou says, as he straightens his uniform. Over his shoulder, Ibaragi Douji stares at the Oni-Eater without blinking, the pick of her shamisen loose against the strings. It's still too early, and though he hates to give up the hunt as well, he knows the value of a graceful retreat -- even if he's staying and the others are leaving. "I'll look forward to it."
"You'll forgive me," Ichinomiya says dryly, "if I won't."
+++
"In the end, we had to rely on Minamoto after all," Kantarou sighs. "Ahh, that's awful, now we owe him a favor! I'm worried, what would he ask for ..."
Youko clucks her tongue and ignores his jump and whine as she begins rubbing salve into his burned fingers. "If you ask me, he owes you something too," she said. "Otherwise, his entire fancy house would have burned down! And no matter how rich he is, that's just expecting too much! Besides, Ayame-chan was home, wasn't she? Even Minamoto's not so heartless that he'd let his little sister die ..."
Kantarou bites the inside of his cheek, cringing again as she begins to rub salve into the thin skin between his fingers. "I don't know if the man himself would think so, ehhh ..."
"What it means is that your debts cancel each other out," she says firmly. She wraps a fresh bandage around his hand, then pushes the salve into his uninjured one. "There, now, you're done. Make sure Haruka-chan gets his share, all right? He's lucky it didn't hit anything important, ahhh, you stupid men and your stupid posturing ..." She picks herself up and dusts off her kimono.
"Eh, Youko-chan," Kantarou says. "What makes you think Haruka will listen to me?"
She gives him a look, then flicks her forefinger against his forehead. "Kan-chan," she says, long-suffering, "that might work on other people, but Youko-chan knows you better than that. Just ... make sure he gets the medicine before you do anything perverted, okay?"
"P-- perverted!" Kantarou squeaks. "Yo-- Youko-chan!"
"Don't even try playing innocent!" she declares. "I told you, I know better! So be good while I'm at work!" She ruffles his hair hard, and stomps off. She fusses in the genkan for a bit, and then the front door slams shut, like the exclamation point of a sentence.
He watches her go and puts down the salve jar to smooth his hair with his good hand. After a moment, though, he can't help but duck his head and smile. He knows for a fact Haruka is napping in his room, rather than on the roof -- as much a concession to Kantarou's inability to use the ladder at the moment as his own injured wing -- and it will be long hours before Youko comes back.
Whistling to himself, he picks up the jar again and heads for the stairs.
+++
One day in late autumn, a young boy visits the Seimei Jinja with his parents. At some point he gets separated from them, and wanders under the corded-off areas, towards the large pond in the back. He stops under the tree and presses both hands to the trunk, looking up. Whatever he sees in the branches makes him smile, and he stands there beaming until his mother finds him and leads him away.
As he goes he looks over his shoulder, and for a moment his smile is years older.
I'm back, he doesn't say.
Welcome home, the rustling branches don't answer.