Preamble: One and a Half… alludes to conversations and events from A Song on All Sides, but also stands on its own as a separate story. This can be considered a sequel to A Song on All Sides, and a prequel to Ends of the Earth.
He sat at the centre of the dining hall, a small, slim figure wrapped in bandages, dwarfed by the massive table. His left eye was hidden under gauze. Layers of ribbons wound around his neck and arms. His legs, hidden from sight beneath the table, were bandaged as well.
He had been in our kingdom all of three days.
He looked right, then left. "Nobody else gonna eat?"
"We have already eaten," I replied.
He narrowed his eyes - or at least the one exposed eye. It was more like a squint. "Oh. Right." He picked up the spoon. The utensil plunged, then halted just before it hit the contents of the bowl.
He looked at me. "Different food source?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "And my hope is to join you, one day."
He looked at me, then at the bowl, and shrugged. "Ohhhh kay," he said, and dug in.
Nankai leaned towards me, cupped one hand over his mouth, and whispered, "I still can't believe he's actually here."
"I can hear you," he said without looking up, and shovelled another spoonful into his mouth.
Nankai dropped his hand and said, at a much greater volume, "Hey, you're actually here." Touou snickered loudly.
He flipped a middle finger at them, and continued eating. After a while, his chewing slowed. Finally he swallowed, put down his spoon, and glowered at us from under his bangs.
"If you guys ate already," he said, "Can you, I dunno, run along and go play with your toys or something? It's creepy trying to eat with a bunch of bald dudes staring. I'm not gonna run away. And even if I wanted to, a fucking snail could catch me right now. I'll find one of you when I'm done."
Seizan bowed. "As you wish, Your Highness."
He scowled. "Quit calling me that. I ain't your damn princess. I just came to join your army."
I nodded, pushed my chair back, and stood. "We will take our leave. Yusuke."
As we filed out, I heard him mutter under his breath, "I'm gonna fucking teach you people how to cook."
Outside, after closing the heavy doors behind me, I convened with my colleagues. "Thoughts?"
"He's... not quite what I expected," said Nankai. "But at the same time, I feel like... it fits. It makes sense."
"He's a little shit," said Touou.
Nankai grinned and elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "So you like him," he translated.
Touou glared. I held my laughter, and said, "We'll see where it goes from here."
"We shall not get ahead of ourselves," agreed Seizan.
...
I slowed my walk further, giving him a chance to catch up. He was part-hopping, part-limping, one hand pressed against the carved walls for balance. I knew he would accept no assistance, so I did not offer it. Every so often I heard a grunt here, a soft curse there, the scraping of flesh against stone and earth.
I looked over my shoulder at him. "There is no need to push yourself," I said. "It is only your fourth day."
"Shut up," he snapped.
I turned away, a mild smile on my face. In truth, I was already quietly impressed on several levels. At his deductions and reactions when we had first met in the Human World; at his speed and endurance in chasing us all the way to the capital. And when I had retrieved him from the throne room mere days ago, after his first meeting with the king, he had been sitting on the ground, unable to walk at all. Without a doubt the king had pulled his punches. Nonetheless, the encounter had hardly been a gentle one.
"Your healing rate is quite remarkable," I noted.
"Spirit Wave," he replied bluntly. He knit his brow. "But it seems like it's changed since I- changed."
"I see," I said. To say I was not curious about the impact on his Spirit Wave would be a lie, but I did not press further. There was time for him to elaborate when he wished. We continued along the corridor in silence.
After a while, he said, "This is weird."
"What is?" I asked.
"I don't really feel like I'm in the Demon World," he said. "More like I'm in… some kinda Buddhist temple or something. But not in the Human World either."
He paused against the wall, to rest or collect his thoughts, perhaps both. I stopped as well and waited. Soon enough, he continued.
"The mood here is all calm and meditative... But it's off." He hesitated. "I mean, it is pretty calm and meditative… but you guys all look human. Like, not just a little human. I know you're not - I'm not - and obviously I can tell from the energy. Nobody's actually trying to pass themselves off as human here. But everybody looks totally... It's weird."
"It is only your fourth day," I said, again. "And I imagine your first visit to the Makai was under quite different circumstances. But you are correct. Some of us do have forms that are essentially humanlike. This is my form-"
"Your non-'rubber band from hell' form," he interrupted.
"-Yes. But as you've ascertained, not all of us are like so. There are others wearing human form, so to speak. There are many races of demons in King Raizen's territory."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because we all choose to follow King Raizen," I replied.
"No, not that," he said. "You're demons. You're in the Demon World. Some of you still eat humans. Why's everybody playing bald people dress up? Is it like, the reverse of furries or something? What's the point?"
"Because we all choose to follow King Raizen," I repeated patiently. "It is a reminder of our beliefs and our goals. That we follow the king. That all things are impermanent. That even the worlds are, ultimately, an illusion."
He snorted. "Maybe you're all just kidding yourselves."
I smiled. "My point exactly."
He frowned, his brow furrowing fiercely as he tried to decide whether I was making fun of him or not.
"Shall we continue?" I said. I extended a hand to him.
He gave me a look and ignored my proffered hand. After a while, we continued walking, hobbling along.
...
He looked up, wincing slightly from the fresh layer of ointment and gauze that had been applied. "What, 'sit already time for lunch?" he asked.
I shook my head. "That was thunder," I said.
"Oh," he said. "Sounded like Raizen's stomach."
"The king's stomach has more of a growling quality to it," I said. "It echoes more deeply. And it is on a schedule."
His brow arched skeptically. "It sounded just like the gurgles I heard the day I got here."
"Trust me," I said. "There is a difference."
"Yeah, right," he said, just as a nearly identical rumble rolled by, followed by a screaming clash and a spectacular series of lightning flashes, blinding the chamber with alternating light and darkness. When the lighting in the room stabilized, he had a cross expression on his face. "OK, fine," he said. "You can be an expert in anything after a couple hundred years."
"Close your eyes," I replied, and he obediently squeezed both eyes shut so that I could apply the new pad and dressings to the left side of his face. While I was in the midst of my ministrations, he began to snicker. I sat back again and waited for him to stop moving.
"This reminds me of training with Granny," he said.
"Your grandmother?" I asked.
His one exposed eye darted to me. "Uh," he said. "The old hag. Genkai."
The Spirit Wave master, I realized. "Ah."
"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "Wake up early, get the shit beaten out of me, repeat. Except I don't have to cook and clean."
"No," I said with a smile. "Not for an army of 102,000."
He laughed. "That sure takes a load off!" He giggled madly.
...
"Where is Yusuke?" I asked. I had not seen him for most of the morning.
"He is with the cooks," replied Seizan, at the same time Nankai pointed in the direction of the kitchens.
I raised an eyebrow. "What is he doing there?"
"Terrorizing them," said Touou.
The door to the kitchens slammed open just as I arrived. He stormed out, angrily tossing a rag behind him. When he saw me standing there, he halted.
"How did it go?" I asked. He responded with a frustrated grunt and folded his arms, slumping angrily with his back against the wall, glaring and fuming.
"What you seem to be seeking requires a degree of commitment," I said. "Our current focus, and urgency, are not there. Once a more stable peace has been secured, you may find it easier to turn your attention to domestic matters. I believe our people may be more willing at that time as well."
He dropped his arms, looked me dead in the eye, and jabbed a finger in the air at me. "Once I beat the shit out of Raizen, Mukuro and Yomi, we're gonna head on down to the Human World, go to the goddamned grocery store, get some ingredients and hold some fucking cooking classes. You can write that down in an imperial decree or whatever and shove it."
"As you wish," I replied. He pushed himself off from the wall and brushed past me, stalking off.
...
The five of us stood around the table, gazing down upon the map. The diagram was one we, as the four generals, knew by heart: a meticulous rendering of all known lands of the Demon World. For him, it was still new, but it would undoubtedly soon become a familiar image burned into his mind.
"These are the three main territories," Seizan explained, gesturing and framing each area briefly with his hands. "The lands of King Raizen. Mukuro. Yomi. Our kingdom is the oldest. Yomi's, the youngest. His reach has been growing over the past few centuries, mostly expanding out to capture the smaller nations."
"King Raizen has no interest in conquering other kingdoms," Touou said. "Mukuro doesn't particularly seek out places to add to a collection either, unless they're getting in the way of something. Yomi's the ambitious one." Touou sneered. "The 'upstart'."
"Our intelligence estimates Mukuro's current forces at 390,000, and Yomi's at 230,000," said Nankai.
He looked up and across the table at me. "You said, that one time… our army is like…. a hundred thousand?"
"102,000." I traced a path with my finger along the borders of our kingdom. "Centuries ago, when the extent of King Raizen's situation first became known, some of our population unsurprisingly decided to emigrate. This trend continued for a period of time. Our numbers are currently stable - or flat, if you prefer. Those who remain have had much time to consider their choices - though once the inevitable actually happens, it will still be a shock. Numbers alone, however, do not tell a full story."
Touou laughed. "Yeah, there's a lot of garbage in Yomi's ranks."
"Be that as it may," I said, "most of each nation's army could be wiped out solely by a single king. Thus the mere presence of the kings, and the balance of power made possible by their existence, dissuade any significant level of conflict."
He tapped the table thoughtfully. "'Till Raizen kicks the bucket."
Aside from Nankai taking an audible breath, the other generals said nothing.
"You are correct," I said. "For all intents and purposes, once the king dies, we will be defenceless."
He studied the map. "What a cheery picture," he said dryly.
"It's our reality," Touou replied.
"We have considered many scenarios," Seizan said. "There is the potential of a margin of time before Mukuro or Yomi's forces reach us."
He glanced sharply at Seizan. "How much time? And why?"
Nankai perked up. "Strategically-speaking," he said, "since we'd no longer pose a threat at all, Yomi and Mukuro would probably attack each other. So however long it takes them to determine a victor in their war. Which could be a while."
"Or it could be quicker than we imagine," I said. "We are not without appealing resources for an army needing to replenish itself. And while Yomi tends to take his time to strategize, Mukuro prefers action and will surely wish to make the first move. Mobile Fortress Mukade can cover a great deal of ground and transport a significant number of warriors."
He scratched the side of his cheek. "OK. So Mukuro and Yomi wail at each other for a bit until one of them falls over, then everybody either runs away, or runs to kiss the winner's ass, or the winner comes and scoops everybody else up."
"If Yomi is the victor," said Seizan, "any one of those things is more likely to result in the staying of death. Mukuro has a deserved reputation for unpredictable cruelty and scorn to those who present weakly. One who is too obvious in their attempts to curry favour will likely find themselves in the grave. And one who stands their ground bravely will be honoured by being cut down."
"That said," Touou interjected, "if Yomi's the victor, most of us would probably rather gag and kick the bucket ourselves."
"Ultimately," I said, "these are all conjectures, though they may be the most accurate we have in terms of our ability to see the future. In the meantime-"
"Get stronger in a stupidly unrealistic timeframe, kick everybody's ass," he replied. "Again. Got it."
I could not help it; the corner of my mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Essentially."
…
"Whatcha doin'?" he asked. "How come? What's that?"
He had invited himself to follow me around during the day's non-martial duties. I had made no attempt to dissuade him. It slowed my tasks down a bit, but for the most part he was genuinely curious. And it was important; I was hardly there to humour him. If these were to be his lands one day, he had the responsibility to know.
We were now in the treasury. He peered curiously about, taking in the glow emanating from the towering, artfully arranged piles of gemstones. "Whoa. What're these?"
"The imperial rurimaru, our national treasures. They are sacred gems unique to our kingdom, each worth more than a thousand times their weight in gold." I carefully plucked one and handed it to him.
He took it, holding it up to his eye and then the light, watching the gem's iridescence play in the air. Then he casually tossed the stone back to me. "Cool," he said. His tone was bored and unimpressed.
I placed the stone back in the arrangement. Beside me, I heard him laugh softly. I turned and smiled. "What do you find funny?" I asked.
"Raizen's dying, and the kingdom's gonna be doomed," he answered. "But hey! Look at all these shiny rocks!" He shrugged. "Too bad Raizen can't eat 'em. Well, maybe some demons can, but we're not those kinds of demons."
I nodded. "No, you are not."
"I guess if we're being threatened, they'd make decent bargaining chips or bribes or something. Except, if I were a powerful asshole, why would I bother accepting a bribe if I can just kill you and take your shit?"
"Indeed."
"You'd be better off throwing these at the enemy." He placed his hands on his hips, looking around the chamber at the mountains of luminous rurimaru. "That's a lot of pebbles. It'd be a good distraction and knock 'em out of formation with all the greedy bastards trying to get rich. Or at least they'd trip a lot." He laughed.
The mental image was ludicrous, but I appreciated his practicality. "If it comes to that, perhaps so."
...
We were twelve miles out from the capital, returning from a reconnaissance mission, when Nankai said from my right, "Oh boy." I lifted my head in time to catch the full explosion.
"I think I see him," said Touou, one hand shading his eyes, peering and squinting. "Yep. There he goes."
Our heads turned in unison, following the arc of a barely visible dot in the sky, towards the ground in the distance.
"What a little shit," Touou said approvingly.
I took off for the likely landing site, leaving my colleagues behind. "See you in the infirmary, Hokushin!" Nankai called after me.
...
"I know I said we wish for you to become stronger," I said, "and our people appreciate your commitment. But at this rate we will be rolling a comatose mummy into battle. At the very least wait for some of your injuries to heal before attempting to take on the king again."
"Motherfucker!" he cursed in response as the salve hit his wound.
"Don't move," I warned.
"Or you'll tie me up with your neck, I know," he said. "You know what - ow - fucking pisses me off? He's not even taking this seriously. Ow ow ow. Shit. Ow. I don't think he's even using a third of his power. It just makes me so fuckin- aaaaaauugh!"
"There," I said. "Don't see the king again until these are all removed. Every single one."
"Sure, sure," he mumbled, rubbing his abdomen.
"I am not making light of this," I said sternly. "You think the king is not taking it seriously. Imagine a tiny gnat constantly flying at your head, and you swatting repeatedly while trying not to harm it. He is trying not to kill you before we are forced to face Mukuro or Yomi's forces. You should consider that seriously."
"Yeah, I got it, mom," he replied in that now-familiar, sarcastic tone. "Man, what happened to the good ol' days when people used to tell you what level you were at? Toguro was always like, now here's my fifty percent this, look out, I'm eighty percent that. What a gentleman. So thoughtful. Always knew exactly how much shit I was gonna be in."
I buried the urge to roll my eyes, and proceeded to put away the medical supplies. Just as I set down the last vial, he said, "Your scars. I saw them at training the other day. Seizan and Touou have the same ones. Are they from those energy-lowering things you guys had to wear when you found me in the Human World?"
I blinked. I had almost forgotten about the rooting scars, a line of etched markings down the centre of the chest and abdomen. "Yes."
"Do those hurt?"
"No."
He frowned deeply, mulling this over. After a while, he said, "Did they hurt?"
"Yes."
"Don't fucking do that," he said. Despite his words, his tone was almost chillingly calm; it was clear he was holding his anger in check. "You knew what I meant."
"Yes." I nodded. "I will remember."
He eyed me. "You sure are being super talkative," he said.
"Forgive me. It is not something we are accustomed to discussing."
"'Cause it's usually forbidden to use them since you're breaking the barrier law, and you can't take them off till you get back, and it hurts like a motherfucker, some shit like that?" he guessed. "Fill in the details for me."
"Some things like that," I agreed. Of course he was curious; undoubtedly he was considering the viability of using them to visit the Human World. Explaining the process, in any case, was no issue. It was simply not something most cared to know. "The roots must be embedded quite deep to inhibit core energy levels of that magnitude - after all, by the classifications of the Reikai, we are going from S and A levels down to D. The process is intensive - they are extremely painful to insert and remove, and require at least two people assisting. The implants cannot be sustained indefinitely. A wearer cannot afford to dally in the Human World."
He was nodding. "Yeah, I remember you said something about a time limit at Kuroko's."
"Yes." I nodded. "Also..." I paused. "They are living creatures. To use them, we are drastically altering their living environment. To remove them, we must kill them."
He said nothing.
"It is something we try to avoid," I said. "If possible. We use them only when the king deems it necessary." I looked at him directly. "When you become king, it will be your right to determine what is necessary."
After a long moment of silence, he finally said, "Nankai doesn't have those scars."
"No. He has never been to the Human World."
"Ya know," he said, "that's funny. I feel like he'd fit in - blend in - the best out of all of you. I mean, Touou's a bloody walking mountain. Seizan's inhumanly calm. You're too, uh, you." He shrugged. "Um, noble and dignified or something."
"I will take that as a compliment," I said. "And assume the same for the others."
He grinned. "Sure. But I think Nankai'd like the Human World. Maybe I could show you guys around someday. Without those... limiter... bug... things."
As things currently stood, we both knew such a someday was uncertain, and highly unlikely. But I merely said, "We would be honoured."
A heavy rumble vibrated the air, sounding far away and right above our heads at the same time.
"Stomach," he guessed. "No, thunder. Fuck it, I can't tell."
"Thunder. You may as well always guess thunder," I suggested. "Your odds are better with the frequency."
"Shut up," he said.
…
We were resting during a break in the sparring session. He was sitting at the edge of the stone platform; I was standing at the centre, running through the events of the session in my mind. It had been a rigorous one as always, but recent training had felt… stilted. He had seemed unfocused. Off-balance.
I was considering options to address this when I noticed the sky had changed. It was a rare sight - clear without a thunderstorm, burning red with clouds of grey, black, and gold.
"Dammit," I heard him murmur quietly. "It's not even the same." I glanced over and saw him rest his head, face down, on his knees.
I felt a familiar twinge and understood. When we had gone to the Human World to find him, while we were still in the mountains, I had looked up at the night sky, littered with stars. I remembered thinking, It is not unlike the Demon World. And that thought immediately reminded me that I was not in the Demon World, that it was not even the same sky, that no one I held dear - save for my colleagues accompanying me on the mission - was seeing what I was seeing. That I was in an alien world, displaced; an outsider; and all the unhappy circumstances that had brought me to the point of where I was standing at that moment.
I walked over and waited, silently, at his side. When he lifted his head, I said, "If ever a thing weighs upon your mind, you may find the load lightened if you are able to air it to another."
"What?" he said. "You mean like sit around and bitch about stuff? I already do that. I hate getting up before the buttcrack of dawn, Touou snores like a fucking bomber taking off, meditation is boring and makes my ass fall asleep, the non-human food tastes like old people-"
I sat down next to him. "I was thinking more along the lines of thoughts you do not typically voice," I replied with a smile. In spite of his so-called "bitch list", he had actually been quite diligent and dedicated in adapting to the routine of our kingdom. He had refused more comfortable accommodations to sleep in the barracks with the rest of the troops. His enthusiasm for fighting had been contagious, and his unpretentious attitude and sense of humour were quickly becoming rather popular with a growing number of our soldiers - and our civilians.
He shrugged. "Dunno if you noticed, but I say pretty much whatever shit comes to mind."
"Indeed," I replied conversationally, looking out to the horizon. "And for many people, they may try to avoid having certain things come to mind at all. I do find an annoying thing about minds is that sometimes they seem to have, if you'll pardon the phrasing, minds of their own. Sometimes they latch onto things and cannot seem to let them go, no matter how much you may wish them to."
I did not look at him, merely listened for some cue. He said nothing, and there was no sound of movement. I took it as a sign he was, at least to some degree, taking this in, and continued.
"In my experience with the king, and others whom I have served and worked with, they were often faced with things they did not wish to think about. But they could not stop it from coming to mind, even if they were ridiculous notions, or outcomes they had no control over. Sometimes it would seem that these thoughts were gradually eating them alive."
He was still silent. I could hear his quiet breathing, paced out, pensive.
"In many cases, simply being able to articulate those thoughts eased them. All they needed was a wall to bounce these ideas off of. To identify them, give them names - describing them made them tangible."
Carefully, I shifted the tense and the pronoun. "Once the fear or the worry no longer exists only in your head, it is easier to see them for what they are - their size and shape, whether they are resolvable, irrational, pointless, or perhaps even hiding something else." I paused. There was no sound of resistance.
"If you wish, you can release such thoughts to me in confidence. I will not judge. I will only listen. And I will die before I tell another soul."
He laughed. "Wow, that's dramatic," he said.
I heard faint shades of nervousness in his words - doubt, but also curiosity, possibly hopefulness.
I looked over at him and smiled wryly. "It is true. I have kept secrets for well over 500 years. They will go with me to the grave. In any case, only if you feel the need, whenever that happens."
He tilted his head at me, saw that my eyes were serious, and shrugged.
"Sure," he said.
...
I had just put away the medical supplies when he cleared his throat quietly, hesitatingly.
"You still doing that... that 'in confidence' stuff?" he asked, casually.
I looked over at him and nodded. "Whenever you feel the need," I replied. I waited for him to go on if he wished.
He looked off to the side, then directed his gaze to the ground, his expression tight. He was silent for a long time - so long that I thought he had perhaps changed his mind. I was about to get up when he folded his arms and cleared his throat again, slightly louder this time.
I settled down fully and did not move, aside from turning my gaze back to him, passively observing.
"Somebody said to me once…" he began, haltingly, uncomfortably. He did not look at me as he spoke, his gaze shifting around the room. "That - they - they'd wait for me forever."
A moment the span of a silent breath passed before he spoke again. "And - even back then, I thought… yeah right, if they had to wait 60 years, that's too long." He smiled. The smile did not reach his eyes. "I mean, I wouldn't wait for me for 60 years. And now... I don't know… if they'd wait three."
His gaze had settled, ceased flitting about the room. Now he was staring at an empty corner - through it, rather, his eyes slightly hooded and unfocused - focused more on something he was holding in his mind's eye than on the space around us.
He closed his eyes and shook his head briefly, not in negation, but as if trying to shake loose an unwanted thought. "But I guess it doesn't really matter. I mean, I say shit all the time before I've figured out what's gonna happen after it comes out of my mouth. Like - three years." He shrugged. It was a child's shrug, a helpless motion. "Just a random number I pulled out of my ass. I figured, hey, like you said, it could be a war. One year seemed too short. Three sounded safer in my head than two. And anything higher, I guess I was scared that would scare her off. I don't know. Like, what'd I expect? If somebody asked me to wait fifteen minutes for shit I'd tell them to piss off. She's already stuck with me longer than anybody else ever would. And, people change. I mean, I… I changed. After you guys left…"
He bit his lip. "...Kuroko looked me in the eye and said it was probably best if I went to the Demon World." His voice wavered slightly as he revisited the woman's message. "She said she was scared. Of me. For her family. What could I say to that?" Another smile his eyes did not follow. "That was probably the nicest way anybody's ever told me to go to hell. Go away and never come back. She didn't say it like that, but I… I've heard it enough times. I know what she meant. And she said it so… nicely. So fucking reasonably. It hurt a million times more."
He exhaled. The sound hissed quietly through his clenched teeth. "You tell kids-"
He broke off and glanced at me, then laughed a short, humourless laugh. "Humans tell kids. I dunno what you guys tell your kids. Brush your teeth and floss after you eat the humans or something. But they say if you follow the rules, be good, do your best, all that crap, people'll like you, trust you, stand by you. When I was a kid, I already knew that was all bullshit. You can do fucking whatever and it doesn't make a difference - people don't care. If they think you're a liar, you're always a liar, and they tell everyone. It doesn't matter what you say or do. They're not gonna believe you. They'll drop you for any reason they feel like - or no reason at all."
He paused and blinked, a little too rapidly for dry eyes. "Then, a while ago, after I started working for the Reikai… and it was like, a lightbulb. I was like, hey, this shit might be true. I'm actually doing something useful. It means something. People - like, regular people - don't know. But somebody knows. They know. And I kinda started believing that shit again. All the way to the end."
He held one bandaged wrist against his eye - not rubbing, just holding it there. After a few seconds he lowered his hand. It scratched, as if absently at an itch, only a short distance above the two star-like scars over his heart. "Everybody thinks I can't take anything seriously. Even Keiko. Even Kuwabara. That it's all just a big joke to me. That I make everything into a big joke." The words spilled quietly, rapidly, desperately. "But- I, I have to- because-"
Abruptly, he stopped. I had the mental image of a vehicle coming to a screeching, burning halt, realising it was going further than it had ever attempted or intended.
After less than half a minute of silence, he lifted his head. He shrugged again. The movement this time was flippant, yet weary. "Whatever. I guess it was a good run. A better one than a brainless deadbeat deserves."
He turned his head to look at me. I had not said a thing during his entire monologue, only watched him and absorbed his words.
"Did any of that make sense?" he asked. "That went fucking all over the place."
I nodded once. "Yes," I said, with complete sincerity and compassion. Of course I did not fully understand the details of all he had related, but that did not matter. His feelings - his long-held bitterness, sadness, fears - came through as clear as day.
"Which one?" he said. "Make sense or fucking all over the place?"
I smiled gently. "Both," I replied.
He smiled back. It was small and uneven, but it was reflected in his eyes. Then he paused. When I said nothing, he leaned back slightly, expectant. "So... what, you ain't gonna offer any words of wisdom?" he asked warily.
"You asked me to listen in confidence," I answered. "I am honoured to have been able to do so. But it is not my right or place to judge what you have told me."
He squinted, his expression a brief cascade of mild surprise and uncertainty, then becoming slightly testy, defiant, challenging. "Yeah? What if I wanted you to?"
"I would be honoured," I replied, "if you wish for me to comment. But of course my experience is not yours; I can understand, but not the way you do. I can only offer my thoughts as, hopefully, an objective bystander. And perhaps you may find them helpful in guiding your own."
He laughed. "What a disclaimer," he said. "Well, what have I got to lose? Am I just a fucking whiner? What do you think, being a wise ancient dude who's probably like five bajillion times older than me?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"OK, like a thousand times older than me," he amended. "A hundred times? Fifty times? Come on, man, I hate math."
"I believe," I said, carefully, "that people cannot do anything but change. We change every second of every day. The outward appearance of consistency is an illusion. It is simply that the decision was the same when it was checked - by consciously thinking about it, by the need to take action, or in some other way. What happened in between, your motivations inside, are unknown to any but yourself."
He frowned and furrowed his brow. His facial expression tensed; I could tell he was about to open his mouth, most likely with a what the hell are you talking about. I forged ahead before he could do so.
"A person makes a decision one day. They could change their mind ten times in an hour, in another day, in a year, three years. It could happen for any reason, which could seem like no reason to someone else. They could change their mind because the person they were waiting for, or thought they had stopped waiting for, had returned. You could change your mind about returning, or about why you are returning. 'Change' itself has no time limit. And change is not a straight arrow that never retraces its steps."
His brow remained furrowed, but his expression settled, focusing on my words instead of on making an exclamation.
"I also believe," I continued, "if you try to ride two horses, you will fall down the middle. This is a metaphor," I said, interrupting myself, seeing the hint of a mischievous glint in his eye. "Pretend the horses are running very fast in two different directions. When you have made a choice to do a certain thing, to be in a certain place, there will be some paths that close to you at that time, and things you can and cannot control. That is true from anywhere, whether you are in the Demon World or the Human World. You decided to come here-"
"Well, it wasn't really much of a decision," he laughed.
"Perhaps not. But what I know is this," I said, firmly. "You could have gone elsewhere. And here in the Demon World, you can still go elsewhere. And in spite of everything we have told you about our situation, you have stayed. With us."
The furrow in his brow eased.
"We are all afraid of what we do not know," I said. "I cannot speak for humans, or the people of the Spirit World, and I cannot speak for those who have known you longer than I have. But, on this one matter, I feel confident in speaking for our kingdom. In the time I have come to know you, from what I have seen, you have sincerely made a commitment to your decision, whatever your motivations. We all see it. We are - I am - immensely grateful. Where this takes us from there, I do not know. My intent is to follow- and see it through to wherever it goes."
He was merely looking at me, likely much the same way I had been watching him earlier, simply absorbing the words.
I folded my arms. "Did any of that make sense?" I asked. "Or did it go all over the place?"
He grinned. "Both."
I nodded. "Fair enough," I replied.
"And what if you change your mind?" he said.
"About?"
"About... seeing it through."
"I have been doing this for centuries," I countered. "I wager you may be a little more likely to change yours."
He laughed. "Exactly. What if Raizen dies and I do something batshit crazy?"
"Then," I replied, "I may or may not do something in response to something you may or may not do, in this unknown future."
He frowned. "What? That's not even an answer."
"That wasn't even a question," I replied. "How am I supposed to answer it?"
He opened his mouth to argue the contrary, then paused, then closed it again, frowning.
"Perhaps I will change my mind," I said. "When, how, about what, I can hardly know. As of the forseeable moment I have been given no reason to do so. Perhaps circumstances will become such that you have good reason to do whatever it is you may do. Perhaps I will be an accomplice. Where should I stop in imagining the myriad possibilities? To an extent, it is useful. To another extent, it is insanity. You are torturing yourself with ghosts that haven't even been conceived yet. Nothing happens until we must take action. Changing one's mind and changing one's actions are two different things. And-"
I raised an eyebrow. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I suspect you care less what I say I will do, and more what I actually do. When or if that hypothetical time comes."
He grinned, then pursed his lips before nodding, slowly. "I think… I get it," he said. "Well, I dunno if that made me feel better. But I definitely feel more … back to OK, yeah, whatever. I'm here, I'm ready, let's do shit. And less like these goddamn thoughts are gonna eat me alive."
He paused and considered. "Oh. I guess that means I feel better."
I smiled at him. "That's good."
"Thanks," he said, smiling back.
"Whenever you feel the need," I replied. He nodded.
...
"Hey."
I turned at the dull voice. He was standing there, in the doorway, framed by the dim light in the hall. Even in the shadows, I could see his face was completely blank, devoid of emotion. It brought to my mind the image of a system that had shut down.
I nodded, and he came in. "This is in confidence," he said. His voice was as flat as his expression. He was looking in my direction, but his eyes were focused elsewhere, detached.
"Yes," I said, and waited.
"Remember a while back I said I was feeling better?" he said.
"Yes."
"I lied."
I sat with him, quietly, as he cried through the entire night.
…
"And this's Puu," he said. "My spirit beast. Check it out. Before - after. Before - after."
I compared the two photos. In the first, a pudgy, feathery blue ball was being squeezed happily in the arms of a brown-eyed girl - his childhood friend. The other showed a sleek phoenix - still with the same cheerful expression, its beak open wide towards the camera, evidently angling straight for whomever the photographer was. The evolution was both amusing and impressive. I already knew of Puu from the documents we had appropriated from the Reikai, but seeing these candid shots provided another perspective.
I did not laugh. Of course, it would have been an easy reaction, considering the apparent disconnect between the immediate personality of the host and the creature in the photos. Particularly the ones of its initial form. The spirit beast looked so round, harmless, sweet-faced. The transformed phoenix, more majestic in stature and bearing quite a beautiful frame, still conveyed the same affectionate, even goofy, quality.
But from the time I had spent with him, I could see how these could be manifestations of his inner self. I had encountered other reikaiju over the centuries. Many were twisted and pathetic monsters, tied to humans who had gone through far fewer trials than he had. Knowing what I did of his history, I could appreciate how incredible - how herculean - of a feat this truly was.
Everybody thinks I can't take anything seriously. That I make everything into a big joke. But I have to- because-
Because-
I continued the sentence in my mind.
Because if I don't-
"That's quite fascinating," I said, studying the images. "I don't think I've ever heard of a spirit beast linked to demon energy, much less to energy that abruptly changed the way yours did. And in either form, Puu looks very happy." I nodded at him. "You feed your spirit beast well. That is not easy."
He looked at me. I had the distinct impression my comments were not the usual reaction he received for those seeing his spirit beast for the first time. After a moment, he replied, "Yeah? I guess going demon's like getting a shot of steroids. He got so big we had to move him to Granny's. And even there he was still getting stuck in the doorways sometimes. Is, probably. You shoulda seen when he realised he couldn't just pop into my room and sit on his little perch anymore. He was so upset."
He chuckled softly, recalling the absurdity of it. In his quiet laugh I heard the sound of a memory laced with sadness.
"We could arrange for him to come live in the Makai," I said. "He would be more than welcome in our kingdom. There would be no issues with him here."
"I... thought about that," he said, hugging his knees and peering over at the photos splayed on the ground. "Before I left. But then I thought... it's not really fair to take him with me. Puu only knows the Human World. He was born there. He grew up there. Maybe he doesn't belong there, but - everybody he cares about, all the stupid shit he likes, is there. And he didn't do anything wrong. He didn't ask for any of this."
As he spoke, I watched him reach out, rearrange the photos, re-sort them. In my mind, I did the same with his words, replacing he's with I's.
"And, I know it sounds dumb, but him staying, is kinda like... like…" he trailed off.
"Like part of you staying?" I finished, softly.
"Yeah." The reply was so quiet it was nearly inaudible. "Kinda selfish no matter what, huh?"
I picked up the photo of the happy blue ball.
"In my opinion," I said, "what was unavoidable was a sacrifice on your part. And I am certain," I added, holding the picture out to him, "there are those who are comforted by Puu's presence."
He looked over at the photo, and I handed it to him. He took it and stared at it before placing it, gently, on the top of the small, neat pile on the ground.
...
"Hokushin, look at this!" Nankai practically flung the figures at me when I entered the general's quarters. Already a bundle of energy on regular days, his voice was especially jubilant. "The latest energy measurements from the last tracking period. His performance has been off the charts! I've never seen anybody raise their levels so rapidly!"
"I watched him go up against our entire infantry this morning," said Touou. "It went great."
"Where is he now?" I asked, reviewing the data.
"In the infirmary," said Touou. I put the paper down and looked at him. At my expression, he clarified: "He's fine. He took out a whole chunk of the footsoldiers. Probably half our men are there right now."
"None of the injuries are life-threatening, and morale has been quite high," interjected Seizan, anticipating the alarm just as it sounded.
"What?!" squawked Nankai before Seizan had finished his sentence. "I need them for patrol units!"
"I know," said Touou, unconcerned. "I told him before they started. That's why it's only half."
"They will recover faster than usual," added Seizan, "thanks to the Spirit Wave." Nankai sat back with arms crossed, grumbling but mollified.
Touou smirked. "In another month or two - maybe even less - we could do a four-on-one match."
"You're not excited about that at all," Nankai said, rolling his eyes.
"Begin with one-on-ones," I said. "This month. He can work his way through the generals."
"So you're first," Touou said, slapping Nankai on the shoulder. "That should go fast, right?" He earned a kick in response.
Later, Seizan found me when I was alone.
"In truth," he said, "I had been harbouring concerns. He had seemed somewhat distracted as of late, and I feared his progress would begin to plateau. But then whatever fog there was seemed to clear, and instead, his progress accelerated. Whatever you said to him, it was very helpful."
"I said nothing," I replied, "that he did not already know." It was the truth.
Seizan nodded affably, his inoffensive manner never changing. "Of course, old friend," he said, patting me on the shoulder. "Of course."
…
He held my arm out, focusing on it. I felt the pulse of the Spirit Wave, followed by a heat, and the strangest sensation of inner movement, perhaps the feeling of bones knitting themselves back together.
I turned my head to look at his face. His expression was one of intense concentration. His hair was a long, wild mane, his body covered in battle god runes. He did look very much like a very young, very small King Raizen. He was, after all, still a human child. A demon infant.
I recalled Seizan's hypothesis, and stifled a chuckle. It was important not to laugh for a few reasons. I did my best to disguise it as a cough, but also not suppress it into an actual coughing fit.
Despite my efforts, he heard me. "What're you sniggering at," he demanded.
"I was thinking back to when we met," I replied, certainly not about to detail the conversation I had with Seizan on the night in question, all those evenings ago.
"That time you stabbed me with a toy dagger and I complained about your bad breath?" he said.
"Yes, that one."
He laughed. "Well, I finally did it. Maybe overdid it."
"I was careless," I replied.
"Not that careless," he said.
"No, not that careless," I agreed, smiling.
A low, echoing rumble penetrated the atmosphere like the deep growl of a gargantuan beast. He cocked his head slightly to listen. After a few seconds, he said, "Hey, it's lunchtime."
I smiled. "Correct."
He grinned. "That reminds me, think I'll pay the old man a visit. It's been a long time."
"It's been two months," I said. "You were in traction for a while."
"Like I said, a long time!" He scratched his head again. "But I think I'll get a haircut first." He shook his head vigorously. "Is there anything I can do about this stupid hair?" he asked. "It's freaking annoying."
"It is the result of unrestrained power release," I replied. "Once you have better control, it should no longer happen. Unless you purposefully intend it by withholding restraint."
"Great," he said. "In the meantime, find me a barber. I can donate it to my needy peoples."
I gave him a look.
"It was a joke," he said. "I know you monks shave your heads."
….
"Well," he said, with a muddled degree of triumph and pain. It sounded more like a drawn-out "wow", as his speech was slightly muffled by gauze. "At least I'm not a gnat going at Raizen's head anymore. Now I'm a fucking monster mosquito." He made a spitting sound, wet with blood. "That he splatted against the wall."
"You are now most definitely some type of larger, more aggravating insect," I agreed, elevating his other leg. His session with Raizen had lasted twice as long as any other previous encounter before we had to retrieve him from the nearby marshes.
"Yeah," he replied happily. "One that can kick your ass."
"Yes," I said, smiling. My own bandages were a fine reminder - though my injuries were positively mild compared to what he had sustained from King Raizen. "And much earlier than I thought you would."
He made a face - no mean feat when one was swathed in bandages. "Now I just need to do it when you're all piling on top of me. That's the next milestone."
I thought of Touou and his enthusiasm for a four-on-one generals match. "Perhaps. Once you recover." In my mind, I estimated the time before halfway decent mobility resumed, but he had surprised me before.
"Yeah, yeah." He closed his eyes. "Doing that recovering shit now." Soon, he had dozed off.
…
"…Strange?"
"What is it?"
"The king's stomach isn't growling anymore..."
"-It can't be…"
…
Somehow I found myself in the throne room. Lingering. Aimless and useless.
The space seemed impossibly large and hollow. It was the unwhole chasm an ocean would feel if suddenly drained of every drop. Bereft of the familiar, immense presence of what should have always been there.
Though I had known the moment was coming for nearly five hundred years, had prepared for it for at least half that time, my mind seemed a void.
"Found you," said a voice. It sounded very far away.
I looked over my shoulder. A figure stood in the doorway, the light from the halls against his back. The figure hefted a large sack.
"Sorry about the wait," he said. "I'm good to go."
He was dressed in formal regal attire, an inner charcoal shirt and outer garments of gold. Not ceremonial garb, but a lighter outfit suitable for traveling. The fine gilding on his clothing caught the light behind him, creating a slight visual echo of his ever-present aura, highlighting it. His presence, his energy, had grown significantly since the day I had first met him. It barely filled this space.
But it was bright and alive.
The king is dead. Long live the king.
For ten thousand years.
That thought hung in the air. Slowly, I allowed it to fill my mind.
After a while, I realized that my new king was speaking to me.
Or rather, had spoken to me. Several times. In fact, he had closed the gap between us and was now standing very close, peering up at me, studying my face intently.
"-Hokushin? Hokushin?" A shadow had passed over his otherwise neutral expression. "Hey. Hey - can you hear me? You OK?"
I blinked. "I'm fine," I replied, refocusing my thoughts to the task at hand - the request from my new king. "We will head for Gandara immediately. Your Majesty."
I took a step back and bowed deeply. When I straightened and looked at him again, his lips were parted slightly, as if he were about to say something. But then he closed his mouth and instead looked around the throne room, then back at me, silent.
...
It was a rare moment of rest, halfway to Yomi's territory. My king turned to me.
"You're probably thinking, 'what the hell's this dumbass doing'," he said.
"Not the words I would choose, Your Majesty," I replied. "But, in a manner of speaking, yes."
"Don't call me-" He abruptly cut himself off, then sighed. He looked at me and frowned. "Why don't you just ask?"
"You are my king," I replied. "I trust in your decision."
He stared at me, his expression thoughtful. Then he shrugged.
"Confidence time?" he asked.
"Whenever you feel the need," I replied. He nodded, and set the bag he was carrying on the ground. He sat down on a boulder and motioned for me to sit next to him. I did so.
"OK." He rested both hands on his knees, elbows out to either side, and stared at the ground for several seconds before lifting his head to look me directly in the eyes. "This is more for you, to be honest. 'Cause you deserve to know, in case - in case anything happens. But-"
He paused, and took a deep breath. "If it were me - if it were just me - I'd take on Mukuro and Yomi. And probably die. Because I'm a fucking moron. But it's not just me. And I'm not gonna drag hundreds of thousands of people to die in some stupid war because your king, as in me, is a freaking idiot. So, whatever happens, I just want you know…"
He placed one hand on mine and looked me straight in the eye. "I wanted you - I wanted everybody - to be OK."
He let go of my hand, and turned his gaze away. "You said before, when we first met. You were grasping at straws. The longer I was here, the more I realized - the strength of the kingdom depends on the strength of the king. Like, not just understood it in my head, but really got the reality of it. The weight of it. And - yeah, I'm stronger now. But - then - everything happened sooner than we thought it would."
He scratched his neck. "You know, I think all this time, in the back of my head, there was this little voice that kept bothering me. I managed to ignore it until Raizen died. But here it is: any time I felt like I was improving even the tiniest bit in my fights with him - I wondered: was I really getting stronger? Or was he getting weaker? I mean, sure, it was probably a bit of both. But-"
He looked straight at me again. "I'm not Raizen. I can't hold them off." He rubbed his shoulder, still bandaged under his tunic. "I barely held him off. And he was dying. He was literally in his last moments of starving to death. That was all I managed. How the fuck do I protect everyone from Yomi and Mukuro?"
His gaze hardened. "So. Plan B. Which might also be stupid. But whatever. That's how I roll."
Before I could blink, he jumped to his feet. "OK, confidence time over. Let's keep going."
As per the rules of confidence, I said nothing, asked nothing. But inwardly, my heart weighed heavily. I had not a clue what the king was thinking to do, but one thing was certain - he was planning on taking a great risk on his own. I made a silent vow to not leave his side.
Before long, the glittering metropolis of Gandara loomed before us.
…
"After Raizen died, a lot of things went through my mind.
But let's be real. I ain't fit to be king.
So I decided to do things my own way."
...
There was ground beneath me, and sky above me. But the world still did not feel like a real place.
"How-" I started, and then stopped again, struggling to find the appropriate words. "What- When-" I gave up. "Where did you come up with a plan like that?!"
He looked over at me. His movements were far lighter now that he wasn't weighed down by the massive sack of rurimaru he had been carrying in our initial journey. And likely for other reasons as well. "I said I'd fight the other kings if nobody else was in danger, right? I figured a tournament was the only way to make it happen. The rest just came outta that."
I shook my head. To make a proposal like that, in enemy territory, with no reinforcements - it was madness. Yomi could have killed us both right there, at any point in the conversation. Indeed, even before the proposal had been made, I had sensed Yomi's quiescent energy shifting into something sinister, actively threatening - before it was halted by curiosity, stumped by confusion, and finally trampled underfoot in complete bewilderment.
"How did you know Yomi would be stalemated?" I asked. Thanks to the demon fox's betrayal, the support of the assassin team conveniently made up of their friends, and Mukuro's exquisite timing, Yomi had no choice but to submit immediately. In spite of my shock throughout the entire experience, the expression that descended upon Yomi's face when he realized what was happening was something I would remember - no, treasure - for a long, long time. Touou would be incredibly jealous. "When - how did you communicate with Kurama?"
"Easy," he replied. "I didn't."
He met my perplexed expression with an equally perplexed shrug. "I had no idea where Kurama was or what he was up to. I mean, I knew he went to work for Yomi. But we haven't seen each other since I left for the Makai. I think the last thing I told him was that I was sorry I had to skip his mom's wedding." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I was wondering why I didn't see him when we were entering Gandara. Not like I was expecting a welcome parade and a dozen roses, but like maybe he'd poke his head into the teahouse to say hi or something." He chuckled. "Hiding behind a wall with a whole assassin team of buddies. Great move."
I rubbed my temples. "How did you know Mukuro would agree so quickly?"
"I didn't," he repeated. "And before you ask, I knew even less about what Hiei was doing than Kurama."
"Is that why you decided to go to Yomi's? Thinking you might see Kurama?"
"Not really," he said. "I mean, sure, Hiei's kinda killy-focused. If I ran into Kurama, we'd probably have a better chance of figuring something smart out. With less killing. I wasn't really betting on it though. I just thought going to Yomi first would be better."
"What gave you that idea?" I asked.
"You guys did," he replied.
I froze. "What?"
"Oof!" He bumped into my arm. "Those generals' meetings we had," he said, stepping slightly to the side and looking up at me. "Raizen dies, Mukuro probably wants to kick Yomi's ass, and she's got her giant pet caterpillar, right? So I figured, if I wanna talk to both of them about this tournament, why run all over the Makai? Let's just go to Yomi's." He grinned. "Raizen kept saying he thought Mukuro and I would get along. Guess the old man was right after all."
"I … see." The plan, if one could conceive of calling such half-baked assumptions that, was both brilliantly ingenious and simply insane. I could feel my forehead throbbing. I had one more question before my head exploded. "Why in the name of heaven's lightning did you carve the royal rurimaru?"
"I thought," he said, "it'd make Yomi believe I meant it."
I could feel my eye twitching. "I cannot believe I am saying this," I said. "But that is the only part of your entire plan that makes complete sense."
He laughed heartily and patted me on the back before continuing to walk ahead. "Good thing we're talking about all the problems you have with my plan now."
I sighed and rolled my eyes. When I caught up to him, he added, "And, now I know."
"Know what?"
"The answer to my question." He peered at me out of the corner of his eye, and at my baffled expression, clarified: "What you'd do if I did something batshit crazy." He turned his head fully to look up at me as we walked. "You'd flip your shit." His grin stretched from ear to ear. "But you'd stay." His emotion was palpable - not mockery or glee, but sheer delight.
I gave him a look. "I believe the jury is still out on that matter, Your ex-Majesty," I replied.
He laughed again. "Ahhh," he said. "Sorry. Here, peace offering." He handed me Mukuro's flowers and blew me a kiss. "Don't mess 'em up, I need those back later."
I inspected the stems, the leaves, the petals. They really were just flowers. In the height of their bloom, their fragrance drifted readily into the air at the slightest disturbance. I grasped the delicate gift carefully, knowing they were headed for the king's headstone.
I caught myself. The old king, I reminded the much smaller void in my mind, silently.
"By the way," he said, bringing me back into this moment. His voice was soft. "I'm sorry. About Raizen. You served him for a long time, longer than I've known anybody I care about. You've been through a lot together, and I know he trusted you more than he trusted anybody else. I totally get why. And… I guess all the funeral arrangements have probably been taken care of by now."
I was moved by his words and his care. I smiled gently at him to show it was all right. "There were more pressing matters," I replied. Then I lifted my head - and my smile fell. I halted in my tracks.
"And we may not be at war," I said, "but there are still more pressing matters."
He followed my gaze to the silhouette of the tower, visible in the distance. We were back home, in my former King Raizen's territory - a place still reeling from loss. And a place that technically no longer existed.
"Let me speak to the other generals first," I said. "I will try to ease their minds before word spreads to the rest of the kingdom."
I felt his hand grasp my arm firmly. I looked down at him. His face was set in a serious expression, not facing me, but towards the direction of the tower.
"No," he said. His tone invited no argument. "I did this to everyone. I'll tell them."
...
It went over about as well as one could have imagined. That is to say, about as well as it went over the first time I went through it.
In other words, not particularly well at all.
"What were you thinking? What were you thinking? What were you thinking? What were you thinking?" Nankai expostulated at us, not for the first time that particular hour, still quite beside himself. Behind him was an impressive hole in the wall of the generals' quarters, courtesy of Touou who was no longer in the room. Even my dear old friend Seizan - the only thing he said, impassively, was, "At least war has been averted. For the time being. Externally." Which was about as fair a statement as anyone could make.
But regardless of our personal feelings, it was too late. Our soon-to-not-be nation, already in mourning, had to turn its attention to prepare for quite a different mindset, a veritable tsunami of change. I gave the generals a cooling-down period - and a deadline for regrouping to consider next steps for disseminating the information to the rest of the population.
By the time we regrouped, all had acted independently, and everyone's minds were set.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I already knew Hokushin was gonna, but - you - you all entered?"
Three sets of battle-hardened eyes glared back. "Yes."
"That's… that's awesome, but seriously, you guys," he said, concern plain in his voice. "You really don't have to. I mean, unless you want to. 'Cause - well - you could die."
"It is our wish to enter the tournament," said Seizan. "We are - we were - the king's generals. We would give our lives for our king and our kingdom. This is no different. It is merely a different set of rules."
"The tournament is the will of the king," said Touou. "That's reason enough to enter. And I've said it before, and I'll say it again: If there's a good fight, I'm in."
Nankai clenched a determined fist. "We'll make you the emperor of the Demon World if it's the last thing we do!"
"What?!" he exclaimed, taken aback. "Wait a sec - that's not what I meant - you're supposed to be in it for yourselves! If you win, you're the fucking emperor!" He waved both hands at them in a shooing gesture, fingers fluttering. "Fly free, little lemmings! Go live your own lives!"
They all stared back at him, silent, resolute as ancient boulders against a battering storm, every inch the kingdom's generals. He turned to me, annoyance and exasperation - and a hint of desperation - splashed across his face.
I folded my arms, leaned back in my seat in the same breezy manner I had often seen him do, and shrugged carelessly. "I'm sorry, Your ex-Majesty. They're not under my command."
He slammed the table. "Quit calling me that!"
I eyed him, then said the word that was both excruciatingly difficult and wickedly satisfying: "No."
He reared back, expression tightening, ready to launch into a retort. His mouth opened - then closed. Then opened again. And closed again. A light dawned in his eyes as he grasped the irony of what he had run himself into: that I was simultaneously disobeying his specific order and following his exact wishes.
"Aaaaaarghhh!" He threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room. His frustrated stomping and colourful curses echoed down the hallway.
None of us made to move immediately.
After a few seconds, Nankai coughed, once, a quiet clearing of the throat. "You know," he said, without looking at any of the other generals, "Part of me… wishes he could undo what he did. But… you must admit, what he did was- it was actually quite clever. Completely mad and almost certainly suicidal, but clever."
"Don't you start," said Touou, but his expression was not a severe one - if anything, it more resembled a person in on a grand joke, their face distorting mildly as they tried to keep their true emotion from spilling out.
"You wouldn't have come up with that in five hundred years," retorted Nankai.
"Neither would you," Touou replied.
"Because you would both be dead," I said, putting an end to this. "No one else could pull such a wild gambit off. It was a perfect storm of events, a domino effect of relationships."
"Unpredictable and unlikely to ever happen again," Seizan agreed. "Yomi's hand was clearly forced. Doubtlessly he is not happy about that and will look for methods to circumvent this. But it is true that our… former king's actions have bought valuable time. Valuable lives."
I nodded. "There are less than a hundred days," I said. "We must tell the kingdom."
And thus we convened a gathering, an opportunity for the man who was no longer our king to make a more formal declaration to the rest of our non-kingdom. Which we were quite sure would likely go over about as well as the news had the first time to me, and the second time to the other generals.
And that was when King Raizen's old friends showed up. And the odds completely changed again.
...
"Hokushin-"
"Yes."
"All I did was fight with Raizen for the past year. To be honest, I never felt any kind of father-son bond or whatever you wanna call it. But-
I'm really happy for him…
Right now…
I'm really very happy…"
….
Things had never been busier. In the rare moments I had to allow my mind to wander, I was beginning to entertain the question of whether going to war would actually have been less trouble. Aside from accommodating our new guests and all of the training that was taking place, we were also in constant direct communications with Mukuro's and Yomi's territories.
All of the nations had technically been dissolved, but in reality it was business as usual - almost as usual - until the the first day of the tournament. Until then, we were the only ones who could make the event a reality, pooling together our resources and moving as quickly as possible to staff a separate administration to do so.
I looked across the boardroom table. Mukuro's current second-in-command was occupied with other matters - although I understood the Jagan master had no patience for paper pushing-types of tasks at all, even as high level as this meeting was, so most likely the work had been redelegated.
"I always imagined we would meet on the field of battle, leading armies over 100,000 strong," intoned Kirin, his deep voice echoing behind his mask. "Crushing each other's bones into dust and painting the land with our blood."
"Believe me," I said to my counterpart of over 500 years, "I'm as surprised as you are."
"Well," said Kurama, "it's a little short of 100,000, but you're currently flanked by the best administrative staff each of your kingdoms has to offer." He nodded at the secretaries and project managers furiously taking notes on all sides. "As for bone crushing and blood painting, you may still be able to do that. But I doubt the two of you expected someone else to be on this side of the table."
"All for the better," Kirin said. "The thought of spending three hours in a boardroom staring down that bottom-feeding excuse of a fish-head churns my stomach, though iron it may be."
I chuckled. Those words could have come from Touou's mouth.
"I'm flattered," said Kurama. "Now, on to the matter of the venue. I propose Gandara. I believe it is the only location with suitable infrastructure for the facilities required. But seeing as it used to be Yomi's territory, I'm sure you will both have something to say to ensure fairness for the event. Hokushin, as the representative for the host of the tournament, please voice your concerns first."
...
I returned to find buildings in shambles, haphazard tents pitched everywhere.
"What happened?" I demanded. "Were we under attack? All territories agreed to a ceasefire."
"No," said Seizan. "It was more like... friendly fire."
"A little too friendly," said Touou.
And that was when I saw him. "What happened to you?" I exclaimed.
He immediately sat up to reassure me he was all right. "I ran into Kokou in the middle of the night and she thought I was Raizen," he said, holding a pack to the side of his face. "Holy shit that was scary."
"You managed to get out of her headlock," said Tetsuzan, reaching over to ruffle his hair roughly and eliciting several yelps. "That was pretty good, kid."
"Ow! Thanks! This tournament is gonna kick ass!"
"Fortunately a few of King Raizen's old comrades were up as well," said Seizan. "Enki, Tetsuzan and Natsume were able to calm her down."
"You mean take her down," corrected Nankai. "Anyways, that's why the place is a mess."
"Yeah, sorry about those buildings," said Tetsuzan.
"I am so, so sorry," sighed Enki. "Natsume took her back to the, uh, where the room used to be, and she's sleeping off the rest of the alcohol right now. She should definitely be better when she wakes up."
"That's all right," I said. "It is good that she is resting." I stared out at the leveled plains, mentally calculating where we were going to find temporary resources and what staff I could shift to these emergency duties.
"I don't know how you do it," said Enki, once everyone had been settled in. "You seem to have a backup plan for everything. Raizen sure was lucky to have you working for him."
"Thank you," I replied, and bowed deeply. The words from my old king's closest friend were a high compliment indeed. "I would like to think I am prepared for anything, but I must admit the upcoming tournament is a scenario I could never have imagined."
Enki slapped his knee and laughed heartily. "I don't think anyone could. And the two of us should know, considering everything we've put up with from Raizen. That boy's really outdone his old man in the insanity department!"
The warm laughter all around was most welcome. There were less than 80 days to go.
...
"The reason is simple.
King Raizen is very much like you.
Fighting at his side makes me happy.
And that is my greatest desire."
...
He found me at the railings, watching the tear-down team dismantling the lighting system.
"You saw the speech?" I asked. He had still been unconscious when I visited him in the infirmary, but I heard afterwards he had come to just before our new emperor had taken the stage.
"Yeah," he said, folding his bandaged arms and leaning against the railings next to me. He winced when he brushed against the wrong spot, and shifted his posture. "Emperor Enki. That has a nice ring to it, eh?"
"It does indeed," I replied.
"So what're ya gonna do now?"
"The emperor has already asked if I would head the new committee he is putting together," I said. "I hardly think it would be wise to turn down our emperor's first decree."
His face broke into a wide smile. "That's fantastic," he said. "You'd be perfect."
"Thank you," I said. "And you? I assume you'll be returning to the Human World?"
"Yeah, I think so." He looked out to the arena below. "We'll see what I've got left over there."
"I suspect you will find a great deal waiting for you," I replied. "And if that ever changes, I am certain there will be much waiting for you over here as well."
"Mm." His expression was thoughtful.
"We look forward to your cooking classes," I added. He looked at me, startled, and then laughed.
"I told you my mouth is too big for my brain," he said. "I'm not too good with cooking for more than two; gotta work my way up to recipes for half a million. Maybe I should try opening a restaurant or something first."
"Start with something simple," I replied.
"Sure. Like ramen."
We watched the workers for a while before he spoke again. "You know, I-" he started, then stopped.
I looked at him, and he hesitated before picking the conversation up again, stumbling slightly. "Uh... You still doing 'confidence'?"
"Whenever you wish," I replied.
"...What about the emperor?" he asked.
"What about the emperor?" I responded.
He frowned. "Well, isn't he your emperor now?"
I did not hesitate. "He is indeed the emperor. I will serve him gladly, and three years will come and go." I looked him in the eye. "You are my king. I believe there is no expiration date."
He stared at me. After a few seconds his expression relaxed, and he snorted. "Dude, there are no kings anymore."
I folded my arms. "You have relinquished the formal position for the time being. That is all."
He rolled his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. "Man, you're a stubborn pain in the ass."
"Forgive my insolence," I replied, not at all apologetic. "I seem to have picked it up over the past year from someone."
He laughed. "Fine, whatever," he said. "You know, I'm honestly... relieved. This is the first time I made a decision this big that was totally, completely mine." He chuckled. "I know, people'd be like, 'The hell, you make crazy calls all the time,' but - it really was. When I died - the first time - and came back and started working as a Spirit Detective? That all just kind of... happened. When I became Genkai's student? Heh, I just wanted those damn Tokyo Dome tickets. Fighting Toguro and Sensui - that was their masterplan. Coming to the Makai - well, you know all about that. Somebody else was always pulling the strings. I was just caught in the wave, taken along for a ride."
He looked into the distance. "I'm not complaining about how things turned out. I've been luckier than I've got any right to be. But just saying, when I look back at it now, it bothers me. OK, it pisses me off. When Raizen died, I thought, 'Shit, it's happening all over again.' And so, so many people were gonna get caught up in it. But for the first time I had the chance to call my own shots." He laughed. "And shit on everybody else's plans."
He looked out over the railings, and I turned back as well. We observed the workers in silence.
Then he said, "And, thank you."
I turned my head to look at him. I was reminded of not too long ago, when we had watched King Raizen's old friends gather at the grave. He had the same mood about him, the same tranquil expression, as during his confession to me that time.
"For?"
"For everything. For being there. For seeing it through. For-" he grinned again, "a year and a half of the most intense babysitting of your life. Send my mom the bill. Ya might have some problems collecting, though."
I smiled back and shook my head. "It's already paid in full," I said. "Your ex-Majesty."
He laughed. We said no more, and simply stood side by side, watching the rest of the stage of the inaugural Demon World Unification Tournament, in the heart of the city formerly known as Gandara, be taken down.
Author's Notes: This fic is composed of a number of ideas I've built up in my head over the years. I finally got around to wrangling them into some decent level of coherence thanks to the push from the YuYear event on tumblr. This and the accompanying cover illustration were completed for the prompt "Peace" (you can see the image larger on my tumblr, username maiji, tagged #yuyear).
I find in general Hokushin is an easy character to overlook, which is understandable this late into the story in the Three Kings Arc. From a writing perspective, however, when so many other familiar faces are moved out of the active picture, a character like his is a perfect foil serving as a multipurpose prop or a refractor. That is, his presence makes it easier for aspects of Yusuke's character and story to make themselves tangible and create progress for the reader (or entertainment, as with Yomi and the rurimaru lol). Because of that, it's really easy - for me anyways! - to see Hokushin as encapsulating a lot of things that work really well for Yusuke. You get a person who can be a mentor (not unlike Genkai), who can provide grounding/support (not unlike Keiko), and who can also offer understanding and appreciation for Yusuke's type of life (not unlike Kuwabara, before he matures to the path of a responsible student and adult) when these people/characters are not available. The combination makes it possible for Yusuke to have conversations and share insights that he couldn't have with himself or with those characters - like one of my favourite scenes, his confession at Raizen's grave.
A year and a half is the time that Yusuke actually spent in the Makai (according to the manga, vol 19).
You can see Puu's birdy perch in Yusuke's room in vol 14 of the manga, when Yusuke and Kurama are talking to Mitarai.
Tetsuzan is Raizen's old friend who has a helm fully covering his face. I just wanted to pick one of Raizen's friends nobody remembers or writes about, and he was the first one who came to mind.
For the approximate size of the various armies, don't pay too much attention to the numbers themselves as they were there mostly for the sake of having numbers. For some semblance of reality, I went by ~9% of total population estimates for the titular kingdoms of China's Three Kingdoms period, with the following stand-ins based on my 20 seconds of decision-making:
* Shu Han for Raizen's territory. This kingdom is the most famous and was known for remarkable leaders who managed, through ingenious tactics, to defend against the two much larger kingdoms.
* Cao Wei for Mukuro's territory. It was the largest and most powerful, with a leader known for cruelty.
* Dong (East) Wu for Yomi's territory. Lots of backstabbing and drama in this kingdom. It also had a powerful navy and Shachi (Yomi's old second-in-command) looks like a fish. (I told you my decision making was done in like 20 seconds)
Ten thousand years (萬歲 wansui) is a classic Chinese blessing for long life/rule, at one point used specifically for the emperor. Japan adopted this approach as well with ばんぜい (万歳) or banzei, which evolved to become "banzai" (as in 天皇陛下万歳 Tennōheika Banzai, approximately translated as "Long live His Majesty the Emperor").