This, my dears, is my first attempt at an Ushio and Tora fic. I'm not
going to be trite and say such things as "be kind, review" or other
blatherings. All I'm saying is that if you have a comment, leave it
behind, whether good or bad, just let it be in a constructive criticism.
Flames are to be fed to the bakemono.
Standard Disclaimer #34: I ain't done been got none claim on dees here characters except for the one or two that I made up. Ushio and Tora and Asako belong to the author who actually made them, whose name slips my mind at the moment.
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Chapter 1
Sunlight filtered down through the window of a familiar bedroom, to land gently on the twisted sheets and assorted blankets that usually make up a normal teenager's bed. Prying around the arm thrown over the occupant's eyes, the light seemed determined to find the best slant in order to wake up the sleeper.
The bed's occupant grumbles, murmurs in complaint before removing the arm that was both shield and pillow. Dark eyes squint against the glare of the morning and a jaw-cracking yawn makes its way out, stretching the mouth to the limit.
What was once Ushio's room still retains many of the items that differentiate a girl's room from a boy's, but there are a few additions here and there that unmistakably proclaim "This was once a boy's room, but now it's mine, and I'm a girl, so shove it!"
The previously sleeping figure, as one may have guessed, jumped out of bed revealing a willowy female figure done up in boxers and an oversized shirt. Usako was 15, pretty for her age, and had the feral temper that comes of combining her father's bluster, and her mother's volatile mind.
She stretched, as her mother would often recall, like her father, always wishing for that extra bit of height so that she could catch up with the others of her class. Her dad was never small enough to be picked on in high school, but he was always on the defensive side whenever size became an issue.
And speaking of her father, Usako turned to the small table in the corner where her father's picture resided. Stroking the frame only brought a single tear to her eye so she was happy. Progress was being made, in comparison to the wreck she was a scant 11 months ago, when her father died. He had died at a relatively young age, only 45, and neither the police nor the neighbors were able to find out exactly what kind of wild animal would attack in the method that was the cause of his death.
Usako took in a deep breath and let it out in a rushing sigh as she mentally kicked her butt into gear so that she wouldn't be late to school. Her classmates had always remarked that she was uncannily graceful for her age, and it showed in how fast she was able to get dressed in her uniform and flash through the bedroom door, grabbing on her way, the long wrapped bundle that she took everywhere with her.
Skidding into the kitchen, Usako was just in time to startle her mother who was just about to come and wake her up. As always, her eyes would dart to the bundle propped against her daughter's collarbone before centering on Usako's face. Asako's smile would be small, but genuine at seeing her daughter up and ready for the day. Sometimes it was hard to tell who had taken Ushio's death harder, his wife, or his daughter.
"Well dear, I have some miso soup and bread ready for you, so you need to be fast or you'll be late."
Typical of all teenagers, Usako rolls her eyes. "Hai, Okaa-san. I'll leave in a few minutes."
The dark haired girl plops down in her seat and scarfs down the soup like there was no tomorrow, only pausing to use the bread to mop up the remnants. Within 3.2 minutes, she was done, dishes in the sink with water to keep the stuff from crusting over, and a dust trail leading out the door.
Asako cannot help but smile at the antics of her daughter and be reminded as to what she herself was like when she was younger. "Ah, Ushio-chan. You would have been proud of your daughter." Briefly, her thoughts traipsed over to her husband's former partner. "And what would Tora have thought of her? Probably as another brat, since she is as likely to conk him over the head as Ushio was."
Ah, well. The vagaries of youth. Asako went on with her day, getting her chores done here at the house before going over to her parents' café. She had a part time job with them in order to supplement the insurance check that came every month from Ushio's life policy.
Meanwhile, Usako was running along at a steady pace in order to make it to school. It wasn't that she was late, so much as that she wanted to have time with her friends. Thus the running. Another life long jogger would appreciate the pace she was setting, but only a sprinter could understand the effort it took to maintain her speed.
When she reached the gates of her parents' old school, Usako slowed down to a walk and padded in on quiet feet, seeking her friends and hoping to startle them. It had become a game amongst them to see if anyone could spot her before she scared someone. Usako assumed that her quiet feet and ability to remain unnoticed in the shadows was a genetic trait her father had passed down. Its not like she would overlook someone in broad daylight wearing the same outfit as any other girl, and having a giant stick thing wrapped up in cloth slung over her shoulder.
If she wouldn't miss someone that obvious, why would her friends?
She spotted Yuki first. The boy was loitering about to the right of the main entrance to the school with a couple of other boys she wasn't exactly friends with. Sneaking up behind him was child's play, but some of the words being spoken gave her pause.
"So, man, what's up with you, Usako, Mara, and Tsura? I mean, Usako and Mara are hotties, but you and Tsura always fight. How can the four of you be friends?"
"Yeah, man, you ever get anywhere with either of the girls? C'mon, you can tell us. We're your friends!"
Yuki just looked from one expectant face to another. "Geez, guys, I've known all of them since I was a kid. I mean, my mom knew Usako's parents when THEY were kids, Tsura's my brother, and Mara is more Usako's friend than mine."
At the group's incredulous looks, Yuki went on. "Don't you know that it is never a good idea to get on Usako's bad side. If I made up stuff and bragged about it to you, she would grudge on you 'til you keeled over from pure menace vibes. Ok guys, why are you all scared at that? It is something everybody knows. ... Oh, I get it. She's right behind me, isn't she?"
Yuki turns around slowly to face his fate, his mind frantically reviewing everything that was said in the last few minutes for something that she would take offense over. Usako was indeed right behind him, but her expression was one that changed from irritated to confused to amused and back again.
Yuki, who was about a half a head taller than her, arched a brow waiting for her pronouncement.
Usako waited just a moment longer to maintain the suspense. Then she smiled, and tension whooshed out of the small circle of boys. Those on the outskirts started slinking away, getting while the getting was good, and her attention was on her current prey.
"I do not have evil menace vibes, Yuki-kun," she stated.
Her friend from when they were both in swaddling clothes smirked and replied, "Sure you do. That's why no one going to school here is ever on your bad side. If they were, they transferred out real quick. Why do you suppose our school has the lowest hazing statistics, or people being bullied?"
"Um, well, maybe the teachers cracked down on disciplining them?" she offered up half-heartedly.
"Buyyooo! Wrong answer. It's because you don't like monsters like them beating up on the innocents and you go all evil menacing on them. No one's really noticed except the students, but the teachers are all dancing in their conferences singing their own praises for having such a good school."
"Yeah, well-" she started to retort, but soon changed her mind, and the subject, "we should go find Tsura before Mara starts using him as a punching bag again."
Usako began leading the way as Yuki grumbles about the no good, lecherous punk brat that called himself their friend. Usako hummed to herself as she instinctively faded against the background leaving Yuki to make his own way over to their friends on the other side of the school. Her mom would always wonder aloud how her best friend Mayuko could have such children as Yuki and Tsura.
One almost had 'badass' stamped all over him, and the other was as lecherous as his mother was pure. Both had Mayuko's teasing nature, though, so Usako would not deck them the way her own mom would smack her dad. Mara had no such constraints, and since Tsura would not leave her alone...
As she walked, Usako tapped the end of her bundle along the concrete and each impact rang with a quiet chime, indicating metal at the end. When she first met her friends after her father's death, they pestered her about the wrapped object she carted around. The only explanation she gave was that it was her father's, and her mom said never to use it unless it was a life or death situation.
The girl never went anywhere without it, but she never peeked either. When Ushio was alive, he would never let her see it unwrapped and her mom was entirely close-mouthed about it. Now all she said was that it was important, and dangerous when unwrapped.
When Usako first started handling it, she was surprised to note that there was no wrong way to grip it, at least for her. Whether her hand landed on either end or somewhere in the middle, instant balance was achieved and it moved like it was an extension of her arm. Uncanny, but an acceptable weirdness. After all, it would have been doubly hard to pass it off in school as an heirloom if she kept banging it into things and making a nuisance of herself.
When she finally reached her errant friends, she was indeed treated to the sight of Mara smacking the crap out of a running Tsura. Phrases such as "Hentai", "Pervert", and other obscenities were yelled at the retreating back of the resident lecher. At least they were filling the air until Usako emerged beside Mara and placed a hand on her shoulder, silencing her instantly with her momentary shock.
Tsura, meanwhile, zipped around the corner of the school and smacked into his older brother, who was unofficially nicknamed "the badass". The lecher groaned in disappointment at the loss of his escape as a familiar strong grip latched onto the scruff of his neck, turned him around and almost goose-stepped back to the chattering girls.
Both quieted with the new additions to the group, and Mara took the opportunity to heatedly glare daggers at the one who refused to take a hint. Usako and Yuki just shared a smirk and an arched brow before saying in unison, "Now children..."
Mara and Tsura caught the infectious mood, looked at each friend and they all cracked up laughing.
The warning bell for school tolls and a mass movement ensued towards each student's classroom.
Half the day passed by in a blur of conversations, teacher monologues, and spitballs from the back of the class, when the sensei was not looking of course. Lunch comes with the chiming of bells and Usako gets up to collect her friends from their separate classes. It always pained her to know that they were not in the same class even though they were the closest of friends.
Yuki was the eldest by a year, and Tsura was the same age as her. Mara, who also was the same age as Usako and the lecher was not born within the deadline and so was held back a year. Tsura comes up behind Usako as the exits the classroom and follows her through the maze of halls 'til they get to his brother, who is leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb. After they collect him, Tsura moves up to pace beside Usako and Yuki takes the rearguard.
As usual, Mara awaits them at the entrance to the courtyard and takes her place beside Yuki while they move out their favorite eating spot under the shade of a tree near the outskirts of the courtyard. They settle down in a comfortable sprawl and proceed to demolish the obentos provided by their parents.
Usako and Mara are leaning against the tree with the bundle between them, also propped up. Tsura is the first to break the ice.
"So, Yuki, when does the new American flick come out?"
Yuki leans back on one elbow, thinking a moment. "This Friday."
Mara perks up and eyeballs Usako, "Are we going then? I'm free Friday."
"Friday is two days from now," Tsura pipes up helpfully, knowing that Mara would only agree to go with them...cough cough HIM...if Usako would go.
"Hmm, Friday, Friday...Friday works for me! You all will just have to swing by the shrine to pick me up, though, since mom is still paranoid about me going out at night alone."
"Great! My guardians said that they would fund any Friday night outing I may go on, so I've got myself and Usako covered. The sons of Mayuko- baachan will have to fend for themselves," Mara taunted.
"Ok, the lecher and I will be at the shrine at 6 to pick you up, Usako; Mara, you'll have to be there already, because we won't have enough time to drop by your house and still make it to the movie."
Mara just shrugs in agreement while Yuki goes on.
"Although Tsura would beg to differ, we'll also not be able to hang around with you two since our dad has us working the afternoon shifts today and tomorrow at our uncle's furniture shop. Oyaji says it's some kind of character builder."
Yuki looks momentarily disheartened before the ending lunch bell breaks into his reverie.
Usako notices, but refrains from saying anything for the moment. "Well, I'll see all of you either tomorrow before school, or at lunch." She then gathers her school items and joins the crowd ahead of the others going back into the school. The rest of the day also passed in a blur to Usako, because she wanted to get home as soon as school ended. Her favorite horror parody from America was to air on television ten minutes after the bell, and her Okaa-san had warned her that the VCR was on the fritz.
To those she passed by on the streets, all they heard was a haunting chant comprised of two twisted words. "Rocky Horror, Rocky Horror, Rocky Horror, Rocky Horror." And on she went, the long package tapping a counterpoint to the jingle, to the late night, double feature, picture show.
Usako swarmed up the temple steps, flashed across the courtyard, briefly saw her mother break out into tears through the kitchen window before slamming into the closed sliding glass door in shock.
The raven haired girl rubbed her nose where it smarted something horrible and made an about face, gripping her wrapped bundle tighter as a prickling of unease swept across the nape of her neck.
Using the caution bred into her very being, she slipped from shadow to wan shadow caused by the setting sun and crested her head over the window sill that opens into the kitchen.
A deep growling roar blasted her ears as her eyes alit on the cause of the noise as well as the tears from her poor defenseless mother.
Towering over the sobbing onna beneath him, the monster was huge, tawny orange, and when it turned slightly, Usako was able to see great silver slits for its eyes, and a striped face, rather like a tiger's.
It also had, to her fearful expectations, VERY large and sharp claws, which the monster swiped across its face, and an entire mouthful of VERY sharp teeth, which it bared at her mother as it hunkered down closer.
Usako's hands, quite independent of her thoughts had already unsnapped the bindings to the wrapped package. With her right hand gripping the smooth haft she felt underneath, her left swept the cloth aside until she was left holding a rather large archaic spear with an ancient torn ribbon tied around the base of its head.
Barely glancing down at her revealed weapon, Usako clenched her fingers on the wood, and her fearful rage at the bakemono within her home fueled an answering thrum from within the spear. Warm tingling power rushed up her arms and throughout her system cleansing the fear from her and filled her with the need to hunt down the threat and glory in its death.
The cleansing took not only her fear, but it also left her stronger, her muscles harder, sharpened teeth, abnormally longer hair, larger pointed ears for hearing and slitted eyes with which no figure in shadow could escape. None of this, the daughter of Ushio noticed. She just had to get in there and KILL whatever was threatening her mother.
The entire change took only a second, but that precious second allowed the hunter to get that much closer to its perceived prey. Usako burst through the glassed window, shards of razor edged light lancing through the kitchen. Snarling somewhere deep in her throat, she moved her spear into a threatening position and the bakemono took notice.
It moved backward, thank all the beings above, but it was still uncomfortably close to the one she protected. Its silver gaze narrowed at her intrusion, but then widened in what seemed like shock. Its teeth shined momentarily before it uttered a word that brought the Bearer of the Spear back to herself.
"Ushio-?"
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Tora stared at the onna in disbelief. Dead? There was no way his partner could be dead...
Tearing grief welled up inside his chest and loosed itself in an earsplitting roar. He regained his emotions by daunt of pure will and stepped closer to the crying wife he had known when she was a child. He wanted to know where, how and why Ushio had died, and why he was never informed.
But before he could commence questioning, a black blur shot through the window spraying glass all over the place. Tora took a step back so as to not be sliced before turning to study what would threaten the wife of the Spear Bearer.
Tora could not be more surprised when said Spear was pointed in his direction, and wielded by what looked like, for all intents and purposes, a replica of Ushio when they had first met. It so startled the ancient beast that he had half-called to the absolutely still yet raging figure. What passed his ferocious teeth was the name of his partner.
"Ushio-?"
The Bearer stepped deliberately between the fire haired bakemono and the woman on the floor in a protective gesture. Tora could understand the figure's caution, but for what purpose, when he had no intention of harming Asako, the one he had known before he, Tora, had taken his own mate.
Although the monster knew that what faced him was only a human, his previous experiences with the Beast Spear kept him quiet while the new Bearer spoke.
"No monster, Ushio is dead this past year, and you will soon follow," the female said.
Tora could tell the Bearer's gender now that she had spoken, but none would ever call the figure a girl while under the influence, so to speak. When one wields the spear, one becomes the personification of what the extent of human wildness could be. It was a necessary change for the bearer if he or she was to ever combat youkai on their level.
Tora was also calling himself seven kinds of fool in that last second as well, since his preoccupation with his thought allowed the human to close the distance in a rapid lunge, with the intent to impale him with the spear.
The reason why Tora was able to still call himself a fool, and not lying on the ground bleeding to death, was because Asako, the brave, impetuous Asako had placed herself between the spear and the monster.
Asako's eyes held the Bearer's and her hands came up to gently move aside the stilled blade of the weapon from where it was centered on her chest. Not a scratch on the woman, but she still had tear track running over her cheeks.
Tora tilted his head to the side when Asako's words penetrated his obscenities.
"My child...You are indeed your father's daughter. I do not believe that he would like it if you sent his closest friend to him so soon in the afterlife."
The female Bearer's feral gaze in locked onto the woman's who still shielded him, and his own gaze followed the spear as it lowered an inch at a time, before finally dropping with a chime onto the tiles below.
The bakemono's gaze is caught by the changes that are again wrought as the Spear loses its hold over its bearer.
Her excess hair is sloughed off until it reaches to just above her shoulders, and the features soften into a delicately pretty face. The purple slitted eyes become a smoky grey and her pupils return to their usual circles. Everything pointed returns to normal, which includes ears, claws and fangs, but something still inherently feral still lurks beneath eyes that shine like steel.
The female, now girl, lifts her eyes to the monster behind her mother, and gazes unflinchingly into his own.
"Who are you," she asks softly, but with an undertone of menace that he would have been proud to use himself.
"I am Tora. Ushio and I fought youkai together in this territory. Who are you?"
"I am Usako. The Spear tells me I am its new wielder. Ushio was my father."
Silence descends while each contemplate the revelations of the day.
Standard Disclaimer #34: I ain't done been got none claim on dees here characters except for the one or two that I made up. Ushio and Tora and Asako belong to the author who actually made them, whose name slips my mind at the moment.
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Chapter 1
Sunlight filtered down through the window of a familiar bedroom, to land gently on the twisted sheets and assorted blankets that usually make up a normal teenager's bed. Prying around the arm thrown over the occupant's eyes, the light seemed determined to find the best slant in order to wake up the sleeper.
The bed's occupant grumbles, murmurs in complaint before removing the arm that was both shield and pillow. Dark eyes squint against the glare of the morning and a jaw-cracking yawn makes its way out, stretching the mouth to the limit.
What was once Ushio's room still retains many of the items that differentiate a girl's room from a boy's, but there are a few additions here and there that unmistakably proclaim "This was once a boy's room, but now it's mine, and I'm a girl, so shove it!"
The previously sleeping figure, as one may have guessed, jumped out of bed revealing a willowy female figure done up in boxers and an oversized shirt. Usako was 15, pretty for her age, and had the feral temper that comes of combining her father's bluster, and her mother's volatile mind.
She stretched, as her mother would often recall, like her father, always wishing for that extra bit of height so that she could catch up with the others of her class. Her dad was never small enough to be picked on in high school, but he was always on the defensive side whenever size became an issue.
And speaking of her father, Usako turned to the small table in the corner where her father's picture resided. Stroking the frame only brought a single tear to her eye so she was happy. Progress was being made, in comparison to the wreck she was a scant 11 months ago, when her father died. He had died at a relatively young age, only 45, and neither the police nor the neighbors were able to find out exactly what kind of wild animal would attack in the method that was the cause of his death.
Usako took in a deep breath and let it out in a rushing sigh as she mentally kicked her butt into gear so that she wouldn't be late to school. Her classmates had always remarked that she was uncannily graceful for her age, and it showed in how fast she was able to get dressed in her uniform and flash through the bedroom door, grabbing on her way, the long wrapped bundle that she took everywhere with her.
Skidding into the kitchen, Usako was just in time to startle her mother who was just about to come and wake her up. As always, her eyes would dart to the bundle propped against her daughter's collarbone before centering on Usako's face. Asako's smile would be small, but genuine at seeing her daughter up and ready for the day. Sometimes it was hard to tell who had taken Ushio's death harder, his wife, or his daughter.
"Well dear, I have some miso soup and bread ready for you, so you need to be fast or you'll be late."
Typical of all teenagers, Usako rolls her eyes. "Hai, Okaa-san. I'll leave in a few minutes."
The dark haired girl plops down in her seat and scarfs down the soup like there was no tomorrow, only pausing to use the bread to mop up the remnants. Within 3.2 minutes, she was done, dishes in the sink with water to keep the stuff from crusting over, and a dust trail leading out the door.
Asako cannot help but smile at the antics of her daughter and be reminded as to what she herself was like when she was younger. "Ah, Ushio-chan. You would have been proud of your daughter." Briefly, her thoughts traipsed over to her husband's former partner. "And what would Tora have thought of her? Probably as another brat, since she is as likely to conk him over the head as Ushio was."
Ah, well. The vagaries of youth. Asako went on with her day, getting her chores done here at the house before going over to her parents' café. She had a part time job with them in order to supplement the insurance check that came every month from Ushio's life policy.
Meanwhile, Usako was running along at a steady pace in order to make it to school. It wasn't that she was late, so much as that she wanted to have time with her friends. Thus the running. Another life long jogger would appreciate the pace she was setting, but only a sprinter could understand the effort it took to maintain her speed.
When she reached the gates of her parents' old school, Usako slowed down to a walk and padded in on quiet feet, seeking her friends and hoping to startle them. It had become a game amongst them to see if anyone could spot her before she scared someone. Usako assumed that her quiet feet and ability to remain unnoticed in the shadows was a genetic trait her father had passed down. Its not like she would overlook someone in broad daylight wearing the same outfit as any other girl, and having a giant stick thing wrapped up in cloth slung over her shoulder.
If she wouldn't miss someone that obvious, why would her friends?
She spotted Yuki first. The boy was loitering about to the right of the main entrance to the school with a couple of other boys she wasn't exactly friends with. Sneaking up behind him was child's play, but some of the words being spoken gave her pause.
"So, man, what's up with you, Usako, Mara, and Tsura? I mean, Usako and Mara are hotties, but you and Tsura always fight. How can the four of you be friends?"
"Yeah, man, you ever get anywhere with either of the girls? C'mon, you can tell us. We're your friends!"
Yuki just looked from one expectant face to another. "Geez, guys, I've known all of them since I was a kid. I mean, my mom knew Usako's parents when THEY were kids, Tsura's my brother, and Mara is more Usako's friend than mine."
At the group's incredulous looks, Yuki went on. "Don't you know that it is never a good idea to get on Usako's bad side. If I made up stuff and bragged about it to you, she would grudge on you 'til you keeled over from pure menace vibes. Ok guys, why are you all scared at that? It is something everybody knows. ... Oh, I get it. She's right behind me, isn't she?"
Yuki turns around slowly to face his fate, his mind frantically reviewing everything that was said in the last few minutes for something that she would take offense over. Usako was indeed right behind him, but her expression was one that changed from irritated to confused to amused and back again.
Yuki, who was about a half a head taller than her, arched a brow waiting for her pronouncement.
Usako waited just a moment longer to maintain the suspense. Then she smiled, and tension whooshed out of the small circle of boys. Those on the outskirts started slinking away, getting while the getting was good, and her attention was on her current prey.
"I do not have evil menace vibes, Yuki-kun," she stated.
Her friend from when they were both in swaddling clothes smirked and replied, "Sure you do. That's why no one going to school here is ever on your bad side. If they were, they transferred out real quick. Why do you suppose our school has the lowest hazing statistics, or people being bullied?"
"Um, well, maybe the teachers cracked down on disciplining them?" she offered up half-heartedly.
"Buyyooo! Wrong answer. It's because you don't like monsters like them beating up on the innocents and you go all evil menacing on them. No one's really noticed except the students, but the teachers are all dancing in their conferences singing their own praises for having such a good school."
"Yeah, well-" she started to retort, but soon changed her mind, and the subject, "we should go find Tsura before Mara starts using him as a punching bag again."
Usako began leading the way as Yuki grumbles about the no good, lecherous punk brat that called himself their friend. Usako hummed to herself as she instinctively faded against the background leaving Yuki to make his own way over to their friends on the other side of the school. Her mom would always wonder aloud how her best friend Mayuko could have such children as Yuki and Tsura.
One almost had 'badass' stamped all over him, and the other was as lecherous as his mother was pure. Both had Mayuko's teasing nature, though, so Usako would not deck them the way her own mom would smack her dad. Mara had no such constraints, and since Tsura would not leave her alone...
As she walked, Usako tapped the end of her bundle along the concrete and each impact rang with a quiet chime, indicating metal at the end. When she first met her friends after her father's death, they pestered her about the wrapped object she carted around. The only explanation she gave was that it was her father's, and her mom said never to use it unless it was a life or death situation.
The girl never went anywhere without it, but she never peeked either. When Ushio was alive, he would never let her see it unwrapped and her mom was entirely close-mouthed about it. Now all she said was that it was important, and dangerous when unwrapped.
When Usako first started handling it, she was surprised to note that there was no wrong way to grip it, at least for her. Whether her hand landed on either end or somewhere in the middle, instant balance was achieved and it moved like it was an extension of her arm. Uncanny, but an acceptable weirdness. After all, it would have been doubly hard to pass it off in school as an heirloom if she kept banging it into things and making a nuisance of herself.
When she finally reached her errant friends, she was indeed treated to the sight of Mara smacking the crap out of a running Tsura. Phrases such as "Hentai", "Pervert", and other obscenities were yelled at the retreating back of the resident lecher. At least they were filling the air until Usako emerged beside Mara and placed a hand on her shoulder, silencing her instantly with her momentary shock.
Tsura, meanwhile, zipped around the corner of the school and smacked into his older brother, who was unofficially nicknamed "the badass". The lecher groaned in disappointment at the loss of his escape as a familiar strong grip latched onto the scruff of his neck, turned him around and almost goose-stepped back to the chattering girls.
Both quieted with the new additions to the group, and Mara took the opportunity to heatedly glare daggers at the one who refused to take a hint. Usako and Yuki just shared a smirk and an arched brow before saying in unison, "Now children..."
Mara and Tsura caught the infectious mood, looked at each friend and they all cracked up laughing.
The warning bell for school tolls and a mass movement ensued towards each student's classroom.
Half the day passed by in a blur of conversations, teacher monologues, and spitballs from the back of the class, when the sensei was not looking of course. Lunch comes with the chiming of bells and Usako gets up to collect her friends from their separate classes. It always pained her to know that they were not in the same class even though they were the closest of friends.
Yuki was the eldest by a year, and Tsura was the same age as her. Mara, who also was the same age as Usako and the lecher was not born within the deadline and so was held back a year. Tsura comes up behind Usako as the exits the classroom and follows her through the maze of halls 'til they get to his brother, who is leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb. After they collect him, Tsura moves up to pace beside Usako and Yuki takes the rearguard.
As usual, Mara awaits them at the entrance to the courtyard and takes her place beside Yuki while they move out their favorite eating spot under the shade of a tree near the outskirts of the courtyard. They settle down in a comfortable sprawl and proceed to demolish the obentos provided by their parents.
Usako and Mara are leaning against the tree with the bundle between them, also propped up. Tsura is the first to break the ice.
"So, Yuki, when does the new American flick come out?"
Yuki leans back on one elbow, thinking a moment. "This Friday."
Mara perks up and eyeballs Usako, "Are we going then? I'm free Friday."
"Friday is two days from now," Tsura pipes up helpfully, knowing that Mara would only agree to go with them...cough cough HIM...if Usako would go.
"Hmm, Friday, Friday...Friday works for me! You all will just have to swing by the shrine to pick me up, though, since mom is still paranoid about me going out at night alone."
"Great! My guardians said that they would fund any Friday night outing I may go on, so I've got myself and Usako covered. The sons of Mayuko- baachan will have to fend for themselves," Mara taunted.
"Ok, the lecher and I will be at the shrine at 6 to pick you up, Usako; Mara, you'll have to be there already, because we won't have enough time to drop by your house and still make it to the movie."
Mara just shrugs in agreement while Yuki goes on.
"Although Tsura would beg to differ, we'll also not be able to hang around with you two since our dad has us working the afternoon shifts today and tomorrow at our uncle's furniture shop. Oyaji says it's some kind of character builder."
Yuki looks momentarily disheartened before the ending lunch bell breaks into his reverie.
Usako notices, but refrains from saying anything for the moment. "Well, I'll see all of you either tomorrow before school, or at lunch." She then gathers her school items and joins the crowd ahead of the others going back into the school. The rest of the day also passed in a blur to Usako, because she wanted to get home as soon as school ended. Her favorite horror parody from America was to air on television ten minutes after the bell, and her Okaa-san had warned her that the VCR was on the fritz.
To those she passed by on the streets, all they heard was a haunting chant comprised of two twisted words. "Rocky Horror, Rocky Horror, Rocky Horror, Rocky Horror." And on she went, the long package tapping a counterpoint to the jingle, to the late night, double feature, picture show.
Usako swarmed up the temple steps, flashed across the courtyard, briefly saw her mother break out into tears through the kitchen window before slamming into the closed sliding glass door in shock.
The raven haired girl rubbed her nose where it smarted something horrible and made an about face, gripping her wrapped bundle tighter as a prickling of unease swept across the nape of her neck.
Using the caution bred into her very being, she slipped from shadow to wan shadow caused by the setting sun and crested her head over the window sill that opens into the kitchen.
A deep growling roar blasted her ears as her eyes alit on the cause of the noise as well as the tears from her poor defenseless mother.
Towering over the sobbing onna beneath him, the monster was huge, tawny orange, and when it turned slightly, Usako was able to see great silver slits for its eyes, and a striped face, rather like a tiger's.
It also had, to her fearful expectations, VERY large and sharp claws, which the monster swiped across its face, and an entire mouthful of VERY sharp teeth, which it bared at her mother as it hunkered down closer.
Usako's hands, quite independent of her thoughts had already unsnapped the bindings to the wrapped package. With her right hand gripping the smooth haft she felt underneath, her left swept the cloth aside until she was left holding a rather large archaic spear with an ancient torn ribbon tied around the base of its head.
Barely glancing down at her revealed weapon, Usako clenched her fingers on the wood, and her fearful rage at the bakemono within her home fueled an answering thrum from within the spear. Warm tingling power rushed up her arms and throughout her system cleansing the fear from her and filled her with the need to hunt down the threat and glory in its death.
The cleansing took not only her fear, but it also left her stronger, her muscles harder, sharpened teeth, abnormally longer hair, larger pointed ears for hearing and slitted eyes with which no figure in shadow could escape. None of this, the daughter of Ushio noticed. She just had to get in there and KILL whatever was threatening her mother.
The entire change took only a second, but that precious second allowed the hunter to get that much closer to its perceived prey. Usako burst through the glassed window, shards of razor edged light lancing through the kitchen. Snarling somewhere deep in her throat, she moved her spear into a threatening position and the bakemono took notice.
It moved backward, thank all the beings above, but it was still uncomfortably close to the one she protected. Its silver gaze narrowed at her intrusion, but then widened in what seemed like shock. Its teeth shined momentarily before it uttered a word that brought the Bearer of the Spear back to herself.
"Ushio-?"
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Tora stared at the onna in disbelief. Dead? There was no way his partner could be dead...
Tearing grief welled up inside his chest and loosed itself in an earsplitting roar. He regained his emotions by daunt of pure will and stepped closer to the crying wife he had known when she was a child. He wanted to know where, how and why Ushio had died, and why he was never informed.
But before he could commence questioning, a black blur shot through the window spraying glass all over the place. Tora took a step back so as to not be sliced before turning to study what would threaten the wife of the Spear Bearer.
Tora could not be more surprised when said Spear was pointed in his direction, and wielded by what looked like, for all intents and purposes, a replica of Ushio when they had first met. It so startled the ancient beast that he had half-called to the absolutely still yet raging figure. What passed his ferocious teeth was the name of his partner.
"Ushio-?"
The Bearer stepped deliberately between the fire haired bakemono and the woman on the floor in a protective gesture. Tora could understand the figure's caution, but for what purpose, when he had no intention of harming Asako, the one he had known before he, Tora, had taken his own mate.
Although the monster knew that what faced him was only a human, his previous experiences with the Beast Spear kept him quiet while the new Bearer spoke.
"No monster, Ushio is dead this past year, and you will soon follow," the female said.
Tora could tell the Bearer's gender now that she had spoken, but none would ever call the figure a girl while under the influence, so to speak. When one wields the spear, one becomes the personification of what the extent of human wildness could be. It was a necessary change for the bearer if he or she was to ever combat youkai on their level.
Tora was also calling himself seven kinds of fool in that last second as well, since his preoccupation with his thought allowed the human to close the distance in a rapid lunge, with the intent to impale him with the spear.
The reason why Tora was able to still call himself a fool, and not lying on the ground bleeding to death, was because Asako, the brave, impetuous Asako had placed herself between the spear and the monster.
Asako's eyes held the Bearer's and her hands came up to gently move aside the stilled blade of the weapon from where it was centered on her chest. Not a scratch on the woman, but she still had tear track running over her cheeks.
Tora tilted his head to the side when Asako's words penetrated his obscenities.
"My child...You are indeed your father's daughter. I do not believe that he would like it if you sent his closest friend to him so soon in the afterlife."
The female Bearer's feral gaze in locked onto the woman's who still shielded him, and his own gaze followed the spear as it lowered an inch at a time, before finally dropping with a chime onto the tiles below.
The bakemono's gaze is caught by the changes that are again wrought as the Spear loses its hold over its bearer.
Her excess hair is sloughed off until it reaches to just above her shoulders, and the features soften into a delicately pretty face. The purple slitted eyes become a smoky grey and her pupils return to their usual circles. Everything pointed returns to normal, which includes ears, claws and fangs, but something still inherently feral still lurks beneath eyes that shine like steel.
The female, now girl, lifts her eyes to the monster behind her mother, and gazes unflinchingly into his own.
"Who are you," she asks softly, but with an undertone of menace that he would have been proud to use himself.
"I am Tora. Ushio and I fought youkai together in this territory. Who are you?"
"I am Usako. The Spear tells me I am its new wielder. Ushio was my father."
Silence descends while each contemplate the revelations of the day.