Absolution
by Kellen
A Yumekui Kenbun fanfiction
Summary: When a desperate mother brings a mission to him, Hiruko soon learns that, sometimes, the danger lies outside the realm of nightmares.
Rating: M, graphic/disturbing images and violence
Disclaimer: Yumekui Kenbun is the brainchild of Shin Mashiba. All affiliated characters and settings are not my creative property, and I receive no profit from this endeavor.
Author's Notes: Yes, it's obscure. It's a more than awesome series, though. I like to think you don't need to know this series to enjoy this fic.
The tea house Ginseikan was quiet and dim, and the moonlight that streamed through the window cast the counters and tables into an eerie glow. A young woman dressed in a simple kimono and apron hummed under her breath as she wiped down a counter that was already clean. The night was half over, the moon at its apex, but the woman was not tired. She glanced to a dark corner, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth as her gaze pierced the shadows there and found the one responsible for her staying awake through most nights. He'd commented once that her human body was frail and she should leave all this to him, his tone derisive, but somehow bored.
She'd simply replied that her human life was mundane and if adjusting her schedule and losing sleep once in awhile was the sacrifice for a little excitement, then her frail body would just have to do. Then, she'd smiled at him, believing that he'd said it out of concern.
He never pursued it again, and they fell into an easy pattern: she stayed up with him, cleaning an already spotless tea house, while he waited for his own customers.
She dropped the washcloth and leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter and smiled. "Hiruko?"
The being she watched shifted slightly, and grunted in acknowledgement.
"Do you think anyone will come tonight?"
Fabric rustled as Hiruko turned, and dim light cascaded over pale features. The bored look on his face melted into a patient smirk. "I won't go hungry if no one comes on one night." He leaned into the light, revealing messy blond hair held back by a blue belt. Uneven locks fell into his eyes as he rested his chin on his hand. "Last night's nightmare was especially delicious."
The small woman smiled, easily drawn into the game. "It's ironic how leading a customer down the bloodiest path in their nightmare is invariably best for them."
Hiruko shrugged. "The customers' well-being is not my concern; my only concern is the price I extract."
Silence fell. Hiruko leaned back into the shadows, and the woman went back to wiping down the countertop, smiling patiently. Before long, the counter was spotless, and the young woman had moved to sweeping the floor, humming all the while. Occasionally, she threw glances over her shoulder to the baku who still sat nearly motionless, his black trench coat blending into the shadows and his blond hair catching what little light remained during the night. She was halfway through sweeping, and had decided that she really was going to get some sleep after finishing the floor, when the bells above the door jangled.
The young woman turned, polite expression firmly in place, the broom held loosely in her fingers. She took one step to the side, so that Hiruko's line of sight was not obstructed. Prior experience had taught her that, while most of Hiruko's clientele meant well, it was better to be prepared should anything go awry.
The door opened slowly, as if the person outside was hesitant to enter. The tea house's mistress allowed her expression to melt from a polite to a warm smile as the figure entered the Ginseikan. "Welcome," she said softly, invitingly.
The woman at the door hesitated briefly, then stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She took a deep breath, and looked around the shop frowning, eyes narrowed, and the mistress of the Ginseikan was momentarily stymied by such a blatant inspection of the premises. The client's hair was swept back into a severe bun, and the kimono she wore was meticulous. She stood perfectly, with hands folded in front of her, but a look of worry and concern still etched on her features.
Ginseikan's proprietor nearly said something, but the other woman made a discernable effort to school her features into an expressionless mask. The smaller woman sighed and straightened her apron before inclining her head toward the visitor. "May I be of service to you?"
"Only if you are the baku who inhabits this shop." The visitor's voice was soft, but dry and hard as if thirst plagued her.
The tea house mistress swallowed, momentarily put off by the woman's manner. Hiruko, however, stood up before she had a chance to recover herself and spoke. "I am Hiruko." He stepped forward, a hooked cane in hand, and the apron-clad woman stepped back behind the counter.
The visitor looked him over, gauging him much the same way she did the tea shop itself. "You are the one who eats nightmares?" Her voice held a note of disbelief.
Hiruko inclined his head, and made no comment, knowing full well that his slight frame and untraditional look garnered such reaction.
"Please, sit. Both of you," Ginseikan's mistress interrupted, her voice soft and strained. Hiruko glanced at her as a flicker of concern crossed his features. This was a woman who encountered nearly all of his clientele as of late, and nothing had ever seemed to shake her.
A chair scraping across the floor caught his attention, and he turned in time to see the client seating herself primly at a table. Hiruko set his cane across his lap as he sat across from her. "How may I help you?"
The woman regarded him thoughtfully before speaking. "I understand," she said with nearly no inflection in her voice, "that the payment you require is the nightmare itself. No more than that."
"Only the nightmare," Hiruko confirmed.
She sighed and her gaze flickered between the dim counter where the other girl worked and Hiruko. Hiruko cleared his throat and waited for her to look at him. "She is discreet," he said.
"Of course. My apologies." The woman folded her hands on the tabletop. "I am Naoko."
Hiruko nodded. "Tell me, then, about the nightmare that plagues you."
Naoko pursed her lips. "It is not my dreams that are haunted. I come on behalf of someone else."
The baku frowned. "I cannot help someone who is not here."
"I know that." Again, her voice was almost monotonous. "I needed to validate the rumors. This person is very important to me." She stiffened. "Very important."
Hiruko stole a glance at the woman at the counter and found her watching with narrowed eyes. This Naoko woman had certainly shaken his companion, but Hiruko still hadn't seen why, beyond Naoko's rigid demeanor. He turned his gaze to Naoko. "I exist, and I do take the nightmares brought to me." This woman's presumption and harshness was beginning to be an annoyance to him. "One usually presents payment upon consultation."
"Ridding my son of his nightmares should be payment enough." Her words were clipped.
The clatter of china upon the tabletop interrupted them. Ginseikan's mistress stood at the table, her approach having gone unnoticed. She poured tea for them both, and Hiruko hoped Naoko did not notice how her hands trembled. Naoko, however, only watched the baku as her tea was set in front of her. The smaller woman faded into the shadows once again, passing a small smile to Hiruko as she left.
"Your son has nightmares?" Hiruko said into the silence, curling his hands around the teacup.
"He dreams of murder, and of blood. He is only thirteen years old; it's troubling for him."
Hiruko nodded. "If he consents to it, I will take his nightmares."
Naoko stood up, her chair scraping across the floor. "I shall bring him tomorrow night, then, at this time." She hesitated for only a moment before turning and nearly fleeing the tea house, her tea forgotten – or uncared for.
Hiruko blinked and muttered a curse upon presumptuous women as he stood up and made his way toward his companion. She stood next to the counter, her hand resting lightly on its top as she watched the door close. Her other hand was fisted and held against her chest, her eyes narrowed in thought, and her head cocked to the side. Hiruko stepped up beside her, watching her with a calculating eye.
"You don't like that woman?"
Ginseikan's mistress shook her head quickly. "It's not that." She sighed and crossed her arms. "Something about her unsettles me. That's all."
Hiruko turned his gaze to the door and then back to her profile. "She did have a harsh demeanor."
"She was frightened. Very, very frightened."
"The nightmares she spoke of were not hers."
The woman looked up at Hiruko with a patient, if somewhat strained smile. "Nightmares do not contain all our fears, Hiruko." She turned away and picked up the rapidly cooling tea still on the table. "You forget sometimes that humans are driven by more than dreams and nightmares. Our fears are sometimes very real, indeed." She turned back to him, smiling.
"I know nightmares," he said.
She nodded. "I know, Hiruko." She paused and set the tea on the counter with a sigh. "Just be careful, please. She's driven, and I don't want to have to patch you up again."
Hiruko smirked. "You worry too much."
"Someone has to worry for the both of us." She grinned, then yawned.
"Sleep," Hiruko told her.
"After I clean," she told him.
It was an easy pattern they fell into every night.
TBC…
Additional Notes:
To borrow a phrase from BakaBokken – the only other YK writer I can find and the person to blame for this fic – a baku is a nightmare-eating being.
It's probably a good thing I don't have children, considering what I seem to put children through in my fic…
I hope you're enjoyed the ride. Please tell me if I really messed anything up... Trying to write with family hovering is somewhat distracting.
Cheers!