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Hanashobu

Chapter 3: The man with the vulgar mouth.

I had a feeling that he was still conscious after sewing his wound shut. I didn't think he could feel it though; the iris root cream already had a while to sink in and didn't often fail. It was especially effective on Oni like Kazama and my sister and I.

It had little effect on the man Hijikata, who I learned was the former vice captain of the Shinsengumi. That was why his name had seemed so familiar.

I wondered why he'd been fighting with Kazama Chikage, the Oni. I couldn't even begin to comprehend his strange transformation from human to Oni, or Rasetsu as his companion had stated.

The woman with him was Yukimura Chizuru, a pureblooded Oni with kinder eyes than anybody else I'd ever met. I hadn't actually met that many people so maybe my opinion was weak. She was about the same age as my sister.

Onee-san had reassured Chizuru that she could do something about his transformation. Chizuru seemed skeptical but wanted to rest her fate in my sister's abilities anyways.

Bored, I began inspecting Kazama's sword. It was wonderfully crafted with strange, repulsive steel. "You've a frightening sword," the fingers on his right hand curled in response. He should have been too weak to do anything but numbly lie there so I guessed his Oni blood was working to his advantage. I touched my finger to his blade, drawing blood. The paper thin slice healed in seconds.

I was surprised it was still sharp. There were a few chips in places where his and Hijikata's blade had met. Hijikata's sword was actually in worse condition and I doubted it could be repaired by even a skilled smithy. If Kazama had lasted a few minutes longer they'd be in reverse, only Hijikata wouldn't have been alive.

They both seemed like fierce men. Hijikata had held onto consciousness much the same as Kazama had. I thought Kazama was the more resilient of the two, since he'd been through hell compared to Hijikata.

I cleaned Kazama's sword on a scrap of his Western coat, sheathing it quietly. I laid it at his side. He wasn't a threat to me in his current condition, he wouldn't even be strong enough to sit up for a while, let alone stand.

I looked over at him. The crease between his brows had smoothed out slightly and I waddled over to him on my knees, curiously hovering over him. His breath tickled my chin and I leaned back, satisfied. I kept thinking he was going to die.

When I'd arrived, Nee-san had run to help me into an empty room. Calling for Chizuru to boil some water and prepare supplies. It didn't surprise me that she already had her running around like a servant.

After laying him down I immediately stripped my haori and hakama off. Both were covered in his blood. I'd even managed to get some in my hair, which had been pinned up. I'd need a bath later.

I dressed myself in a loose yukata before setting to work on him. Nee-san hadn't had a steady enough hand to do the stitching.

Looking down at his face now I could imagine he would survive. My lip twitched into an almost smile and I smoothed his eyebrows out with one finger. I even tucked him in before returning to my zabuton.

I wouldn't lie to myself, I was dead tired. I rolled the zabuton up to use as a pillow and lid down on the tatami floor. It was pointless to stay if I was just going to sleep but I didn't feel like leaving him alone. Maybe another presence would be reassuring for him just as it was for me.

"Eh? I thought you were going to watch over him?"

I jolted awake, squinting at the morning light shining in through the open shoji doors. Nee-san stood in front of rays, making it difficult to see the expression on her face. She sounded amused.

"I did. He didn't die so I took a break," I yawned, rubbing sleep out of my eyes and sitting up stiffly. I might have regretted staying. I glanced over at him, seeing his chest rise and fall rhythmically. He seemed alright.

"You didn't bandage him up afterwards," Nee-san commented, seeing his chest bare. I thought I'd tucked the blanket up to his neck? I guess he'd moved a bit in his sleep.

"The iris based medicine I used is like a seal. I didn't really need to bandage him since he wasn't moving about." I paused to rub my eyes. "You also left and he's heavy and he stinks too."

Nee-san giggled and took an exaggerated sniff. "I don't think he smells that bad,"

I scoffed. "You can't tell the difference between the scent of oranges and apples."

She shrugged and came in, shutting the door behind her. She had bandages and a wooden bucket full of water with a cloth hanging on the side. "Let me give you a hand then,"

The first thing I noticed when I pulled back the cover was the mark on his arm was completely healed, just a smudge of blood left. I hadn't bothered with it yesterday since it had already scabbed over. It was nice to know that his healing hadn't slowed any.

"He does smell a bit sweaty," Nee-san admitted.

"Told you,"

I took the damp cloth and began softly working around the wound on his chest, cleaning away the dried blood and flaking cream. I supposed I could wipe the rest of his chest and arms down afterwards.

"Help me sit him up," I gestured for Nee-san to support his head and good shoulder while I took the other.

"Right away, Ayame-sensei," Nee-san replied with phony respect. She was humoring me since I'd decided to care for him. Our abilities to take care of wounds were about the same, though I usually dealt with animals. Hinata-onee-san went to the villages during festivals and people often sought her for her medical knowledge.

I finished cleaning the slightly smaller wound on his back and swished the cloth around in the water bucket before wringing it out again. The water had cooled down in the short time and I wondered if it would be uncomfortable for him. He hadn't even stirred so maybe not, it seemed like he was sleeping it off.

"They both have such nice bodies," Nee-san remarked, smiling creepily at me.

I reminded her that she was a shrine maiden and a substitute god. She laughed at me and playfully slapped my shoulder.

"Ayame-chan doesn't get to leave the temple grounds very often. Aren't you interested when you see new people?"

I tossed the cloth in the bucket after scrubbing the dirt and grime off his chest and shoulders, being mindful not to wake him. His chest was nicely sculpted.

"Very," I agreed.

"Very what?" she teased.

"Very interested."

I rinsed the cloth off again and wrung it dry, gently swiping it over his forehead, high cheek bones, straight nose, and sharp jaw line. He wasn't ugly like other men I'd seen. His skin was oily though, which wasn't attractive at all. I said as much and Nee-san howled with laughter.

His eyelids pinched and he frowned. His long eyelashes quivered as he struggled to open his eyes.

"You woke him," I chided.

Nee-san halted her laughter, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her kimono. "Sorry, sorry,"

The man called Kazama finally opened his scarlet eyes with some energy and he gazed about, wearily. Nee-san immediately shoved me out of the way to sidle up next to him.

"Good morning, how are you feeling?" her voice was full of kindness and gave the air of being completely approachable.

He glared at her. I almost laughed as Nee-san visibly deflated a size. He wasn't in a very good mood. Neither would I if I was in his position.

He tried to move without much progress. His arms strained and his chest muscles bulged, stitches being pulled tightly. He shut his eyes against the pain and panted. He looked pathetic in my opinion.

"Please don't force yourself, you're in terrible shape. It's a miracle you lived, Oni blood aside." Nee-san pleaded. She sincerely wished for him to get well, which was one of her good points.

"Who are you?" he sounded defensive, like a scared fox kit. I assumed it was because we knew of his Oni nature. I'd be worried too.

"I'm Miyaki Hinata, a half Oni, and this is my younger sister, Miyaki Ayame," Nee-san introduced warmly, gesturing back at me. I sat up a little straighter but it didn't really improve my appearance. I'd slept in my yukata and could feel that the sash was sideways. My bun was messier than usual.

He looked over and quirked a blonde eyebrow. I read too far into the facial expression and felt like he was unjustly determining my worth. His glare had abated and he looked mildly entertained.

"I carried you here on my back and treated your wounds," I informed him, "show some gratitude,"

Kazama returned to his scowling. "Thank you," he drawled in his deep, slow, dialect. He was being blatantly sarcastic. "I would have been fine in a day or two anyways."

I bristled and almost stood up, probably to stomp on his chest, but Nee-san interrupted. "I don't think you understand the severity of your wound. Even for an Oni, the wound you bear is quite serious,"

He broke his stare from me to Onee-san, looking unimpressed with her.

"Who do you think tugged that damn sword out of your chest?" I challenged. "Were you going to wake up and pull that out yourself? I don't think so,"

He sputtered and tried to push himself up, managing to get himself on one elbow. The stitches strained and the wound opened at the seams. He nearly passed out and flopped back on his back. His breathing came faster and in heaves. I hoped he was choking on his own blood.

"Ayame-chan, will you go get some tea for our patient?" Nee-san suggested. I liked how she was addressing him. That would put the bastard in his place. He should understand just how weak he was. As I passed I hooked my foot under his sword and popped it up, taking it with me.

"Where are you going with that?" he called after me, rattled.

"Nowhere,"

When I got back Nee-san had already wrapped his chest up and even given him an armrest to help prop himself up. He looked grumpy.

"I've brought your tea," I announced.

He turned his head slightly in my direction, noting my improved appearance. I'd pinned my hair up again and changed into my usual red hakama and white haori. I had Kazama's red sheathed sword tucked into my belt and my own sword next to it. It felt odd having two.

"Oh? You're a shrine maiden also?"

I really hated that tone of his. He was so denoting when he didn't know anything.

"We're not miko," I objected, "Nee-san is the land god in place of Takeshi-sama and I am her shrine guardian in place of a pair of komainu."

He looked perplexed. "So, two half Oni are taking care of spiritual land, because the master is away?"

"Uh-m, Takeshi-sama owns the mountain lands in all the North so it's difficult for him to manage them all."

Kazama seemed fascinated by that, which I found unexpected.

"Who is Takeshi-sama? What is Takeshi-sama?" maybe he thought Takeshi-sama was just some human who claimed to own the land.

"Takeshi-sama is a Tengu."

"Oh?"

I grinned subtly and began to pour his tea. I regretted bringing two cups. "You should meet him sometime, he'd put you in your place,"

He tensed up and sneered at me. "You're just a child,"

I balked, gripping the teapot handle harder than I'd meant to. I heard it snap and Kazama looked up, delighted by my temper.

"I'm not a child,"

"How old are you?" he challenged.

"Fifteen,"

He laughed, holding his chest. I was glad I could make him feel pain but disappointed that he had laughed. Fifteen was plenty old.

"You're still a child," he disputed.

I huffed, handing him his tea begrudgingly. Kazama took it which I supposed was alright. He could have stubbornly refused and then I could have thrown it at him. I poured myself some and he noticed the second cup for the first time.

"Oh? Keeping me company?" he snickered between a sip. "There's no need. As you can see, I'm too weak to run away."

I grunted, uninterested in his jesting. He was saying he wasn't here by choice and preferred to be alone.

"It's boring here. I'd rather play prison guard than silent sentinel,"

"Do you see much action up here?" he casually asked. "Various demons trying to seize your Tengu-sama's land?" he suggested.

I peeked over the rim at his face. He was looking away, pretending to be making light conversation.

"Not really." I paused, gauging his reaction. He shrugged. "There's this one young kitsune that competes with a tanuki. They like to see who can get closest to the shrine before I chase them away,"

"Oh?" a small smile.

I grinned, imitating fox ears, "It's the Oni girl, run!" I cuffed my hands, making rounder ears and said in a deeper voice. "Run! Save your own tail!" I moved my knuckles across to my forehead, ruffling my bangs and made horns with my fingers. He smiled a bit more. "Get back here, bastards!"

He chuckled, holding his chest again and I lowered my hands. I felt kind of bad for intentionally trying to make his wound hurt, but hearing him laugh was nice. I'd thought he was a horrible jerk, which he still was. Just not quite as terrible.

"Do you always speak so coarsely?" Kazama asked, red eyes twinkling from tears of pain or mirth.

I didn't really think I spoke that roughly. "Nee-san scolds me for it sometimes but it's not like we have guests that often. I don't speak to anyone when I accompany her to the villages at the base of the mountain either. Does it bother you?"

He grinned. "It's funny, your bark is much worse than your bite,"

I glowered at him. "You haven't seen my bite yet,"

He rested his chin on his fist, and leaned towards me, measuring me with his snake like eyes again.

"I see a girl scarcely five shaku in height with sickly white skin. You remind me of a flower, or maybe a monkey,"

Kazama guffawed at my enraged expression and clutched his chest, laugh turning to a sputtering cough.

"Are. You. Okay?" I seethed. I took a gulp of my tea to distract myself from imagining what it'd be like to ram my foot down his throat.

He shook it off and leaned heavily against the armrest. I hoped it would tip over.

"Might I just remind you that I carried you from the base of the mountain to the temple grounds, approximately five hundred shaku up?" he considered that quietly, still appraising me. I guess I should have been flattered. "I had to throw my other haori away because it was streaked with your blood,"

He took a sip and frowned at me. "Prove it." What was there to prove?

I leapt to my feet, pulling the shoji screen open noisily and padded off to my room, two doors down. My room was a mess and the one room that Nee-san refused to enter. I picked the blood stained haori off the floor and debated taking the hakama too but left them. The haori was enough of a statement.

I ran back, leaving my room door open to air out. It kind of smelled like blood in there. I left the door to Kazama's room open too. Fresh air would be good for him.

"See?" I held the haori open, thick trail of darkened blood clearly visible. "You bled through the bandages easily after I pulled the sword from your chest. I was worried that you were gonna die of blood loss before I even got you here, but you're one tough bastard,"

I lowered the haori to see his expression. He had paled. I guess he could believe the severity of his wound now.

Kazama nodded slowly. "I guess I have to thank you and your sister too, for stitching me up,"

I felt my eye twitch, "Hah? Sorry to say, but I'm the one who stitched your wound,"

His head snapped up, blonde hair swaying. "You sewed it shut?"

I nodded, proudly smiling. That's right, be amazed by my skill. "Nee-san doesn't have steady hands,"

He had a disgusted look plastered across his face.

"What?"

He shook his head, "You're a strange girl,"

I glared at him. "Did you expect me to be grossed out by a bit of blood and a man's bare chest after pulling a sword out of said man's chest and carrying him up a mountain with him still bleeding profusely?"

He held a hand up, which trembled from the effort, "Enough, you've made your point,"

"Eh? Are you easily sickened by talk of such things?" if he was, I'd never let him live it down.

Kazama glowered at me. "It's improper for a girl to speak of such things,"

I snorted. "I haven't exactly grown up in a proper household." I patted my katana, stroking the hand guard that was in the shape of the imperial chrysanthemum. Kazama eyed it with quiet interest.

"Can you wield a katana of such size?"

"It belonged to my father and teacher." I explained. "It should have been Hinata-onee-sama's but she doesn't need a sword. The sword I previously used was something I bought cheap in town and snapped after a few uses. I took to using this sword after that and I've grown used to it,"

"May I see it?" he inquired.

I bit my lip. I didn't really like to part with it. "I guess,"

I passed it over reluctantly. I still had his red sword so I could call collateral.

He examined the black sheath, looking at the inscription. "Imperial Chrysanthemum?"

"The name of the sword,"

He nodded. The hilt guard was self explanatory, being shaped like a chrysanthemum and all. The hilt itself was yellow and black with a red tassel and a carved chrysanthemum set in the butt of the hilt.

It clicked open and he drew the half way out. I could see him gritting his teeth against the pain; no doubt it was difficult for him to stretch his arms. He settled for viewing it as it was.

The steel had an unearthly glow to it, much like Kazama's. I wondered if their origins were similar.

"Demon steel," he breathed.

"Nee-san told me that he was a mercenary of sorts and went around hunting demons for a price in his younger days. He brought back the bones, fangs, horns, and scales of those he slayed and gave them to the village's smithy. That's how the Imperial Chrysanthemum sword came into existence."

He interpreted that carefully. "So, your father was not an Oni?"

"He was just a human," I confirmed. "He was a man of the Agano clan who live south of here and the next head before he died."

"How long ago did he die?"

I thought it over, "It'll be nine years this month,"

Kazama nodded thoughtfully. "What about your mother?"

"Agano Mai, formerly Kurosawa Mai, deceased on the same day," I paused. I had difficulty thinking about her reasonably. "I don't really remember her that well. She was . . . distant?"

A silence enveloped us as I struggled to remember something meaningful about her.

"Oi, girl," Kazama interrupted.

"What?" I responded.

"You said Kurosawa, right?" there was a peculiar glint in his eyes.

"Uh-m, I did," I pursed my lips, "So?"

"That makes you a part of one of the four noble Oni clans,"

"Hah?" I didn't really get that.

He sighed; he should have realized I wouldn't know stuff like that. I was too young when she passed on to know anything about her history.

"The four noble Oni clans represent the cardinal directions; North, East, South, and West. They are regarded as the strongest Oni in each direction. In the North are the Wakehisa; in the East, the near extinct Yukimura; in the South is your mother's family, the Kurosawa; and in the West, my family, the Kazama."

I'd been trying to figure out how to ask his name without seeming strange, and at the same time I'd had to keep from saying his name accidently. He hadn't introduced himself and accidently saying his name would have led to me having to explain that Chizuru had said his name.

I wondered if that would agitate him. I didn't really know their relationship and worried that he'd be distressed knowing the man who cut him down was on the other side of the temple.

"Ho, so what's your full name?" I asked, trying to sound natural.

I guess he'd been trying to educate me on the Oni families because he looked disappointed. "Is that all you gathered from that?"

"Well, I don't really care about the other Oni clans or whatever. I'll probably live my whole life here anyways,"

He shook his head at me. "You live in such a tiny world,"

"So what?" I sputtered, embarrassed. So what if I didn't know about the world outside Takeshi-sama's land?

He chuckled quietly, being mindful of his wound. "Kazama Chikage,"

"Kazama Chikage-san . . ." I thought it over. "Sounds deep, much cooler than Miyaki Ayame,"

He sniffed, holding back laughter. "I've been wondering about that. If you're father's name was Agano and your mother's name was Kurosawa, why do you use Miyaki?"

I smiled ruefully. "Nee-san made it up. The Kurosawa name is dangerous for us since we've been running from them since we can remember. Agano links us to our father's clan and their bloody history. Neither sounded too appealing so Nee-san came up with "Miya", shrine, and "ki", hope,"

"You've been running from your mother's clan?" he questioned, appalled.

I giggled. "Is that all you got out of that?" I imitated. I almost pinched myself. I sounded like I was flirting.

"Why would they be chasing after you?" he repeated, seriousness in his voice. Either he hadn't noticed my accidental flirting or he chose to ignore it, which was a relief for me.

I frowned. "At first it was because our mother eloped with a human," I took a deep breath, "afterwards I guess we were just an eyesore. We ran as far north as we could but they still pursued. That's when Takeshi-sama rescued us."

Kazama crossed his arms as best as he could while leaning on the armrest, thinking hard, sword sheathed and rested against the floor. "The Kazama clan has never had to deal with that sort of problem before."

Tears were collecting in my eyes. I guess that's how other Oni thought of us. "Uh-m, we were a problem." I stood up and collected my tea cup and the pot. "I'll be back for your cup later."

He didn't say another word as I left. Maybe that was better.

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