A/N: Hello, all! I'm back with another NuraMago fic for your reading pleasure. A special thanks-a-bunch to all of you who have read and reviewed my stories. You have no idea how fantastic you are! I hope you all enjoy this piece of fluffy midnight goodness. Feedback is always appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Nurarihyon no Mago or its characters. If I did, there would be many, many more awesome moments between my favorite guy and gal! Guess that's what fanfics are for.
Revised on February 23, 2014.
She enjoys little more than a solitary flight through her clan's territory. After patrol is complete (for the time being) and the area is safe from any demonic upheaval (of the evil sort), Yura forgoes her duty as clan heir and takes a clandestine trip to the outskirts of Kyoto, where she can temporarily hide her troubles in the ancient, low-lying buildings dotting the landscape.
"Ahh, isn't this relaxing?"
If only for the cheeky ancestor who seems unable to give her peace.
She blinks in confusion. "Hidemoto-san, what are you doing here?"
The elder clucks his tongue in gentle scolding. "You should know I'm always nearby, Yura dear. You and I are practically one and the same."
A cringe. "Don't remind me." She turns her gaze to the outside scenery, the fluttering reed curtains of Gissha obscuring her view of the late-night sky before she casts them aside with slender fingers. Despite her mentor's unannounced appearance, the peace of the moment relaxes her enough to accept it. "I mean, what are you doing here right now? There aren't any yōkai to bother with, and the council meeting was earlier this morning."
Hidemoto's mischievous eyes narrow in amusement. "You must learn to extend your senses, my talented apprentice. I am here because I sensed a powerful demonic aura coming our way, and at a relatively swift speed."
She blinks. "…What?" The onmyōji heir turns in the direction of her mentor's pointing finger, and gazes out the window to witness a large, grizzly head soaring at top speed. She recoils slightly in shock, then narrows her gaze to make sense of the sight. Another minute of careful inspection reveals the head to be attached to a carriage similar to their own, and Yura concludes the strange creature to be of yōkai origin. A moment later, she senses the aura emanating from the ayakashi…and its grudgingly familiar rider.
Don't tell me…
"It seems our guest is an ally of yours, Yura, a young leader by the name of Rikuo, if I'm correct." Hidemoto's face is positively gleeful, and he claps his hands with a chuckle as he peers into the window opening. "It would be wonderful if he brought along his grandfather. We haven't had a good conversation in ages!"
"Stop acting like this is a planned social visit! What is he doing here?"
"There's nothing wrong with the occasional friendly get-together, Yura dear. Rikuo has always shown a certain concern for your well-being. I'm sure he's just checking in out of the goodness of his heart."
Yura beholds him with an utterly flat expression, ebon eyes narrowed in annoyance. Hidemoto merely chuckles. "Very impressive look. Be sure to use it when you take your position of command."
Before her temper overcomes her will, Yura inhales deeply through her nose and releases a noisy puff of air from her lips. Can't murder a dead man. Or a friend, for that matter. I might as well play nice, for now at least.
With one last warning look at her mentor, who gifts her with a toothy Cheshire grin, the onmyōji turns her attention back to the outside, where the Nura Clan transport steadily draws closer to their own carriage. The moonless sky allows the stars to gleam brightly, and they seem to illuminate the paranormal vision of her ally and friend. Even from this distance, she identifies the dual tones of his hair and the cobalt hue of his clan robes. She carefully schools her expression into one of civility, determined to outmaneuver his usual attempts to rile her temper. They are close enough now that she can see the confident smirk on his features, and she watches as he mumbles a command to his steed, who slows before pulling up neatly beside Gissha.
Before she can open her mouth to greet him, Hidemoto appears at her side in the window, mouth curled into a cunning grin. "Ah, Rikuo-chan, what a pleasure it is to see you this evening! I take it your clan is doing well under your rule?"
"As well as can be expected, Hidemoto. How does this beautiful evening find you?"
"In a state of turmoil, I'm afraid." The former head releases a dramatic sigh, thin hand coming to rest under his chin in apparent defeat. "My Yura does not seem to share my desire for good company, and so refuses to provide me with even relatively stimulating conversation."
Said girl's eye twitches as Rikuo's gaze catches hers, mischief present in its garnet depths. "Yes, I've experienced similar troubles with our precious onmyōji."
To the deepest hell with both of you.
"I knew you would understand, Rikuo-chan! Nevertheless, I fear my attempts to make her a more pleasant individual are for naught. Perhaps you will have greater success." With a last dramatic sigh that has Yura digging her fingers into the reed curtains, Hidemoto disappears from sight, seemingly returned to Hagun. The girl left behind releases a breath, and she rests her head against the window's frame, eyes closed in relief that the Cheshire cat is temporarily out of sight, out of mind.
"Do you mind if I join you?" At the deep tone, Yura opens her eyes and regards Rikuo with blank eyes. Their familiarity allows him to pick out the mental fatigue in her face, and he chuckles before speaking to his transport. "Thank you for the trip, Oboro-garuma. I'll be fine from here."
"Of course, my lord." The yōkai remains steady as Rikuo exits the carriage and hops the short distance from the door to the window of Yura's shikigami, robes billowing with his movement. With an exasperated snort, Yura leans back against the cushions of the seat, giving Rikuo the space to angle his body into the carriage's interior, where he settles into the opposite seat. With a hearty farewell to both occupants, Oboro takes his leave, fading into the distance under the glow of the stars.
The interior of the carriage is shadowed in darkness, the mystic fog of the summoning radiating a dim glow. Even without the lighting, Rikuo's yōkai senses pick out Yura's petite form huddled on the opposing side of the carriage, pale skin and ebony eyes catching the fog's illumination. Keeping his gaze on her, he lounges against the threaded cushions, content with their comfortable silence and willing to let her speak first.
"How is everyone?"
He smiles, pleasantly surprised by her question. "They're all doing well. The old man sends his regards, and Mom wishes to have you over for dinner sometime in the near future." He breathes a quiet laugh. "I don't think she'll take 'no' for an answer."
Yura's eyes soften at his report, and she nods with a smile of her own. "That would be nice. I look forward to it."
"Good. How about yourself? How are things holding up for the Keikain?"
The girl rolls her eyes. "The same as always. We're finishing the last touches on the reconstruction of Kyoto's holy sites. Other than that, it's the usual meetings and patrols."
"Sounds painfully familiar. What about family? How are they?"
She shrugs. "No different. Akifusa's focus has been on improving his family technique, this time without any possession." A pause, and Yura snorts with agitation. "Ryuuji's still an ass."
"What a surprise." The onmyōji rewards his sarcasm with a small huff of a laugh, and he smiles at the sound.
When silence reigns once again, Yura runs a slender hand through her black bangs, shoving the strands to either side of her face and turning to gaze back out the window. After a moment, she returns her gaze to Rikuo, who watches her with unreadable features.
"Not to come off as completely unwelcoming, but why are you here? Even you usually send a heads-up before coming all this way."
The yōkai follows her lead and looks to the city far below, which glitters with its own sea of artificial constellations. "I thought I'd spice things up a bit and arrive unannounced. Sounds like you could use the excitement."
"Based off what Hidemoto-san said? Please. The last thing I need is more of the crap he's always pulling. Sometimes I forget he's anything more than a trickster with too much time on his hands."
"Sounds like the old man. No wonder they get along so well." With a smirk, Rikuo turns back to the girl, chin coming to rest on an upraised fist. "However, I think I'll have to agree with Hidemoto."
Yura eyes him warily, suspicion creeping into the corners of her subconscious. "What do you mean?"
Before her eyes, Rikuo's careless smirk morphs into a roguish grin. At the same moment, sirens blaze through her head, alerting her to a definite scheme.
"It's unhealthy to be so serious all the time, Yura. We've known each other for years now, and I have yet to see you take time off from your duties to relax and enjoy the world you protect so diligently." At her questioning stare, he leans forward in his seat, an arm's length away. "You know, Yura, sometimes the exhilaration of a life well lived is a simple matter of letting go."
With that, Rikuo reaches across the space between them, hand held out in a gesture of faith. She regards him with confusion and caution, and just a hint of growing curiosity. When she looks her friend in the eye, a genuine smile touches his lips, and his eyes glow in the light of Gissha's clouds.
"Do you trust me, Yura?"
She raises a thin eyebrow at the seemingly random inquiry, a question he should already know the answer to. Nevertheless, she decides to ignore the nagging suspicion at the base of her skull and give the boy in front of her the benefit of the doubt.
"Yeah, I guess."
"You guess?"
She sighs tolerantly, a small exhale between her lips, and tries again. "Yes, Nura-kun, I trust you."
To this day, she wonders if her decision was truly wise.
She watches the smile on Rikuo's face widen as she extends a hand toward him, clasping his calloused palm in her own. He gives her fingers an affectionate squeeze, and the next second, her body is wrenched from her seat and into his outstretched arms. Her hands disappear as he tucks them into his haori, and her head is carefully cushioned against his shoulder. At the same moment, Hidemoto appears at her side, clever grin lighting his eyes. With the two words released from his thin lips, she knows she is in serious trouble.
"Gissha, disappear."
With a waft of smoke, a small whirlwind, and a humored chortle, her ancestor and the ox-cart vanish into the reserves of her power, and for just a moment, she and Rikuo seem suspended in air, bodies pressed intimately together…before the pull of gravity takes hold and sends them plummeting to the city below.
Stupefied amidst the wind bombarding her from all sides and deafening her to all sound, Yura only knows she's screaming when her throat goes raw and she's no longer able to do so. Part of her wants to flail her arms in panic, but they're locked to Rikuo's sides by his own embrace. When she opens her streaming eyes, all she sees is the blurred image of her partner's chest, the secure ties of his robe loosening from the force of their fall. She doesn't know if they're right-side-up or flipped on their heads, but when she raises her eyes to see his face, she catches the glimmer of his eyes and the large smile curling his lips.
In the face of such pure exhilaration, she can do only one thing.
Yell.
"What the hell?!"
Somehow, past the rushing of the wind in their ears, Rikuo catches her trailing curse, and grins widely at the outrage furrowing her brow. In response, he slowly untwines their limbs, and Yura's slightly ashamed to admit that she subconsciously reaches for his solid form as the distance between them grows, the typhoon around them gaining strength and stretching them apart. In reply, he grabs her hands, entwines their fingers.
"I thought you said you trusted me?!"
Her brow furrows further, and she growls. "That was before you killed me!"
To her shock, he only laughs at her anger and squeezes her fingers, hair a flapping banner above his head. "You should know I would never do such a thing, Yura." His grin turns mocking. "What would your brothers think, their little sister betrayed by the one man in her life she isn't related to?"
Cocky bastard. With a twist of her wrist, Yura wrenches her hand from his grip and reaches for him, this time with the intent to cause pain. As she punches at him, he dodges away, and the momentum sends them spinning, the lights of the city mixing into a dizzying warp of color.
With a sharp gasp, Yura struggles to reorient herself when Rikuo's grip reestablishes its hold and steadies her fall. When her vision clears, he's eyeing her with trepidation.
"Freefalling from a thousand feet, and you're trying to hurt me?!"
"You should be damn expecting it, you ass! I wouldn't be going through this if you and Hidemoto just kept yourselves out of my business!"
"You are my business!"
"Since when?!"
"Since-" With an abrupt snap of his jaw, Rikuo goes silent, bright eyes narrowed in frustration, and Yura takes satisfaction in the fact that, for once, she's getting to him as effectively as he usually gets to her.
Finally, he opens his mouth. "Just shut up," and the thinness of his lips is unexpectedly accented by the tiniest touch of red to his cheeks.
Yura blinks at the sight, and in the moment, she forgets the free-fall of their bodies, the black energy that eventually encircles her limbs and slows her descent. With a hold similar to a cradle, it lowers her to the grass-covered ground, a rare open field deep in the outskirts of Kyoto's urban landscape.
Rikuo maintains the grip between them, ruffled white bangs shielding his gaze from view, and Yura cocks her head in confusion at the uncharacteristic sheepishness he seems to exude.
"You are my business." The mutter is deep and low-toned, and Yura unconsciously leans closer to hear him out, hands still clasped between them. "Hidemoto was worried about you, and the last time we came to visit, he mentioned it to the old man and asked both of us to help."
She snorts in disbelief. "And between the three of you, skydiving was your master plan?"
At her sardonic tone, he lifts his gaze to hers, a small cocky smile curving his mouth. "Perhaps it wasn't the brightest idea." He shrugs carelessly, stepping closer. "But it did get you to loosen up." With that, he gently tugs one of his hands free to poke a finger to her forehead. She knows his confidence is rebuilt when she swats his hand away and he merely chuckles.
If she weren't so accustomed to his occasional bouts of egotism, her jaw would clench. Instead, Yura rolls her eyes and bunches her large sleeves at the shoulder, revealing the wiry muscles of her arms. With a flourish, the onmyōji whips a handful of ofuda from the depths of her white garb, and her power rises to wreathe her form in telltale threat.
Rikuo lifts a brow at the unspoken challenge, arms tucked into the folds of his sleeves. "I take it you don't appreciate our concern for your wellbeing?"
"Take a guess, asshole." An ofuda flies on a path to his exposed chest, and Rikuo neatly steps to the side, gaze riveted on the girl's practiced stance.
"A simple 'thank you' would have sufficed." A small thrill travels through the boy's body at the answering rise in his companion's power, and the grin on his lips morphs into one of daring. He barely has time to remove his outer robe before another piece of enchanted paper whizzes past his face, and he draws his trusted blade to slice through the third. An instant later, and Yura pushes into his space, fist clenched and raised, and Rikuo snickers as he effortlessly clasps the offending limb and rubs a playful thumb over the knuckle.
"You'll have to try harder if you want to express your gratitude, onmyōji girl. Maybe you should call that dog you love so much."
The flaring of her eyes is all the warning he needs.
Before long, a large white wolf is viciously snapping at his heels as cannon-fire barrages him from all sides. An invigorated grin lights Rikuo's face as he dodges and closes in on the girl, and through the shower of dirt and grass exploding in his path, he can see the same exhilaration brightening Yura's flushed cheeks, her dark eyes sparking with a strong resemblance to the glinting stars above.
You're welcome, Yura.
We can decide things like fate for ourselves.
Like the wind, we're just shooting to dream.
Cutting off the pain of the past,
We now decide the future with our own hands.
-Wild Wind, Hiyama Nobuyuki and Ogata Megumi