# # # Chapter 26 # # #
Warmth across his face and upper torso and most of his left arm.
A light breeze that occasionally stirred his hair and shirt.
The gecko, pacing restlessly across his back.
The scent of water from the nearby pond, and heavily overlaying that, the fresh green scent of newly cut grass.
Birds infrequently chirping, and the occasional barely-there sound of shifting cloth.
And someone tapping him on the shoulder.
Shuuichi opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. The sun had fallen much closer to the horizon than he remembered, and now glinted off the pond just outside the veranda and cast most of the room in shadow.
Had it really been that long? Aoi had instructed them to focus on their breathing and their senses in order to increase their awareness – or chances of becoming aware – of the reiryoku in the area, but Shuuichi had been certain that he'd be so distracted by his surroundings that he wouldn't make any progress.
It didn't seem right, to feel so comfortable here in the heart of the Matoba domain.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder again, a bit more insistently.
He turned and caught the paper doll with the ease of long practice. After scanning the brief message, he burnt it with a flick of extra power.
Motion out of the corner of his eye – Matoba, turning to look at him. Aoi and Kaoru, he realized, were looking his direction, too. Something just barely visible flickered blue and green around Aoi.
"Natsume and everyone else made it back safely," he said. His voice sounded uncomfortably loud. It had been good of Isuzu-san to let him know. He wouldn't have expected it of her – but then, he hadn't expected her to stay, either.
"Are you expecting any other messages?" Aoi asked. Shuuichi wondered if that was meant to be a subtle rebuke for interrupting the session.
"No, although I should send one later." Sekihara-san and Takuma-san would want to know that he wasn't returning tonight. Not to mention what knowledge he'd gathered – maybe some of the materials they were looking through would mention the kokuei by that name.
"If you wish to write a longer missive, you are welcome to make use of our supplies," Matoba said.
"… I'd appreciate it," he said stiffly.
Matoba nodded and turned away, his eyepatch now all Shuuichi could see of his face.
His posture was perfect, and his breathing soon returned to a slow and even cadence.
… Of course Matoba would be as infuriatingly good at this as he was at everything else.
Shuuichi turned forward, closed his eyes, relaxed his shoulders, and tried to return his focus back to his surroundings.
He was a grown man, an accomplished exorcist, and an even better actor. He might not have Natsume's or Matoba's raw power, but he was still among the strongest in their small community. There was no rational reason for Matoba's presence to make him feel like a prickly high schooler again.
He had far more important things to worry about now than whether Matoba was looking down on him for never having learned to mediate properly.
Even if he was, Shuuichi didn't care.
"Perhaps we should break for supper."
Shuuichi gladly seized the opportunity to cease his increasingly irritable and cyclic thought processes. He stood and stretched.
"Natori-san."
He looked towards Aoi. It was a bit disconcerting, to hear himself addressed in such a normal way by a youkai. Between the mode of address, Aoi's summer uniform – Shuuichi assumed Natsume had lent it to him – and the easy and human feel to his interactions with Kaoru, it was worrisomely easy to forget that Aoi was most likely a fairly powerful youkai.
He suspected it was intentional.
But Aoi had also, thus far, done nothing to warrant suspicion.
And if Shuuichi meant what he'd said about building a shared home for humans and youkai, the least he could do was act like it.
"That trick you used to burn the paper doll," Aoi said. "You're flaring your youryoku, I assume?"
Shuuichi nodded. It was a beginner's trick, one of the first things he'd found in his family's storehouses that hadn't needed much practice or additional research to learn. "Ah. That's counter to our lessons somehow, I'm guessing?"
"… Well, I wouldn't recommend it when other people are meditating," Aoi said dryly. Shuuichi laughed. He really wanted to like Aoi, and not just because he was Natsume's friend. "But no, it's a good sign. You can do it as well?"
Matoba also nodded. "I don't, however, see what that has to do with reiryoku."
"It doesn't, directly," Aoi said. "But already having fine control of your youryoku should make it much easier for you to learn to keep it out of the way when manipulating reiryoku. It might help with your control over reiryoku as well."
"Might?" Shuuichi asked.
"Results so far are mixed," Aoi said. "Of those of our flock who've done the extra training, some appear to see almost no difference. Others have vastly different levels of both ability and control. We haven't found a pattern yet."
How reassuring.
"And it might be different for humans," Kaoru said cheerfully. "So far I'm the only one who's made much progress, and I apparently don't have much youryoku."
Shuuichi was beginning to think she took joy in announcing not-exactly-good news. "That's out of how many?"
"You two, me, and Natsume," Kaoru said. "But Aoi-chan only really had time to tell Natsume the basics."
A small part of Shuuichi wished that Natsume had stayed. In these uncertain times, even though knowing he was alive meant more than he could say, he still wished he could see him.
But mostly, he was glad that Natsume had left. Shuuichi had inadvertently dragged him into too much already.
My offer is still open.
He wished he thought Matoba had only been speaking to him.
"I'm sure we'll figure it out," he said to Kaoru, smiling brightly.
He glanced down at the floor, the shadows grown still longer. "If the three of you would excuse me? I think I will go ahead and write that letter."
#
Shuuichi left the kitchens with a tray in hand, its contents appearing nutritious, filling enough, and uninspiring. The one human cook had absently told him to bring the tray back afterwards, then returned to ordering around the dozen or so man-made shiki who apparently made up the rest of the kitchen staff.
Shuuichi knew the general theory behind creating man-made shiki. He knew that when constructed and bound properly, there was little risk to their usage, and he had no doubt that all of Matoba's were.
But he could not bring himself to like them.
Still, having to briefly deal with the man-made shiki in the kitchen was preferable to the alternative.
"Natori-san," a familiar voice greeted from behind him.
He allowed himself a brief grimace before summoning up a bright smile and turning. "Nanase-san! I was beginning to wonder where you had disappeared to." Ah. Perhaps not … the best phrasing.
"I am certain you were," she said, looking amused. She'd always been abominably difficult to fool. "Alas, even the end of the world does not entirely do away with the need for paperwork."
Shuuichi grimaced again, far more theatrically. "And here I had thought there would be at least one benefit." She rewarded him with a polite laugh. "Is there something you would like my help with?"
"Oh, not at the moment," she said. "I was just headed down to dinner, myself. Are you not joining us?"
Shuuichi had dropped by the room that appeared to have been converted into a makeshift cafeteria. Most of its inhabitants had been, unsurprisingly, known Matoba subsidiaries and allies. He hadn't seen anyone he'd previously exchanged more than the occasional disinterested greeting with.
If he'd wanted to eat with a group of people who were no friends of his, he could have just stayed at the Natori compound.
"It's been a long day, and I fear I'm quite tired," he said. "Do give Matoba-san my regrets if you see him."
Either way, he felt sure that Matoba would find some excuse to allude to the subject the following morning – they'd agreed to reconvene early, with a larger group. The exact logistics of who would be joining and why, Shuuichi had left up to Matoba; they were his people, after all.
All Shuuichi had to offer, for the time being, was himself.
"Will you be joining us, tomorrow morning?" he asked. Nanase-san was probably one of the people he liked most here. Though that wasn't saying a lot, and he had no illusions that she was anything like a friend.
She was, however, insightful, level-headed, and more powerful than most usually realized.
"Perhaps later," she said. "Once the details are ironed out. The clan will not run itself, after all."
And with Matoba first in line to learn these new techniques –
In hindsight, it was a foolish question.
Shuuichi inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "I wish you well with it. Now, if you will excuse me …"
Nanase-san smiled. "Of course. Do join us tomorrow?"
He intended to make a point of finding an excuse not to. "I will see what I can do."
He didn't encounter anyone else on the way back to the room he'd be staying in. Something within him loosened, bit by bit, as he listened to his steps whisper along the wooden floor.
He hadn't been here before, but after a while the Matoba villas all started to feel similar: grand, multi-story buildings, the wards and their long history both giving the atmosphere an almost oppressive weight. This estate was simply larger and grander than most.
He wouldn't say it was precisely relaxing – letting down one's guard at an exorcist meeting was an excellent way to invite all sorts of … interesting occurrences. But after having spent a week surrounded by people, effectively trapped, he appreciated even the illusion of solitude.
And the man-made shiki that dotted the corridor here and there were an excellent reminder not to appreciate it too much.
Back in his room, he propped his window open to take advantage of as much of the remaining daylight as possible. An unlit oil lantern sat just inside the door, presumably for his use.
The food was just as filling but uninspiring as it appeared; Shuuichi did not bother to complain, even to himself. Even if he hadn't suspected that easy, satisfying meals would soon be a thing of the past, it wasn't like he hadn't settled for far worse before.
Sumi-san had tried to teach him the basics of cooking when he'd told her he was planning to get an apartment of his own. But with two intense jobs with somewhat idiosyncratic schedules, sometimes it was all he could do to boil some water for cup ramen and collapse on the couch.
He set his cleared tray next to the door to remind himself to take it back to the kitchens – perhaps that could be his excuse to avoid breakfast with the others – unfolded the futon he found in the closet, and lay across it, staring upwards.
He raised a hand and tried to reproduce that small flare of power he'd used earlier. He'd been doing it for so long he'd thought it almost second nature, yet without holding a paper doll he couldn't quite –
Displaced air whooshed gently across his face. He raised his head to look at Hiiragi, now sitting next to his futon. "Is something wrong?"
She shook her head. "I was simply curious."
Likely she also wished to stretch her legs. He'd asked all his shiki to stay dormant while he was in public for politeness' sake, but he knew Hiiragi in particular preferred to stay active when possible.
"About this?" Shuuichi asked, again attempting to flare his power, again with no success.
She nodded.
"Aoi said earlier that the way I flare my youryoku to dispose of paper doll messages may be related to the control needed to suppress it entirely," Shuuichi said. "So it seemed worth some experimentation."
Why should holding a paper doll make a difference, though? He knew they burned due to overload, but he'd never seen any evidence that the paper dolls themselves had an effect on his youryoku.
Maybe they were simply a handy focal point? He dug into his pants pocket, searching for something other than the handful of paper dolls he'd refilled his pockets with before he left.
He extracted a 50-yen coin and held it up, pinched like he would hold a paper doll. Flared. He thought he might have seen something – a spark, maybe? – glint off the coin. At the very least, he'd felt something this time.
He put the coin down, tried again with bare fingers pinched. There – almost.
Open palm. Nothing.
Open palm with a coin resting there. Success. (Probably.)
"Habit is a truly insidious thing," he said. Hiiragi tilted her head slightly. "There's no logical reason why having a focal point should matter."
It shouldn't be this hard – but at least each time he tried, it seemed to get a bit easier.
The light slowly dimmed and disappeared, until only the flickering yellow light of the lamps in the corridor, mostly blocked by the door, remained.
"Would you like me to like the lamp?" Hiiragi asked.
Shuuichi shook his head. "No," he added – he'd never been quite sure just how good Hiiragi's night vision was, if vision was even the right word – and yawned. "I don't really need to see for this. And I should sleep soon, anyway."
It had been a long day.
A good one, even if the end result had been him staying here. But a long one nonetheless.
He attempted to flare his power through both hands at once. Failed. Picked up two coins, this time.
For once, Matoba did not have an insurmountable lead over him.
He intended to keep it that way.
#
... Thank you for your very informative letter. Takuma has left to start digging through the archives as I write. At your suggestion, I also met with Momiji; as yet she has nothing new to add. Nor, unfortunately, do we.
I will of course let you know if anything changes on that front.
It was also good to hear that your young friends are well; Takuma has asked that you give Natsume-kun his and Tsukiko's regards if you get the chance.
As for the situation here, Souji-kun accompanied Sumi-san on another grocery run earlier today. I fear we will need to start seeking further afield for perishables soon, or make the switch over to non-perishables sooner than your grandfather had hoped. We will also soon need to find another source of gasoline if the car is to be of use to us for much longer …
Ginro has volunteered her aid, but with no other shiki to accompany her, Takuma is justifiably worried that if something happened to her, we would never know.
I am considering asking Momiji if any of hers would be willing to help. They appear to have other sources of sustenance, but surely they would see that it is to their benefit to help keep us from starving to death. Not that there is any danger of that yet.
There have been a few minor incidents with the youkai sheltering here since you left. Momiji continues to prove remarkably willing to discipline them …
#
To Natori-san:
Thank you for sending Urihime (?) to check on us; it was very thoughtful. It was good to hear that you, Aoi-san, and Sonokawa-san are all doing well, and that you are making progress.
Thank you, also, for the notes. None of the rest of us have enough youryoku to make a difference, but Natsume was very interested in them. He asked if you would be willing to answer his questions? And whether you have any suggestions for general youryoku manipulation exercises?
We have not had as much time to practice as we hoped, as everyone has been busy with the move. (See attached map for our planned destination.) Tanuma, Natsume, and Kai in particular are in great demand, as they are needed to keep watch until Isuzu-san can finish setting up the wards.
We would like to reiterate our invitation to you to come join us in Yowake. We don't have much, but we would be happy to share it.
These daysit's probably more dangerous to be isolated than together, although the wards on your home are doubtless far better than ours …
#
Shuuichi folded Taki's letter and tucked it in next to Sekihara-san's, letting the sleeves of his borrowed outfit fall across his hands as he approached the practice building. The heavier weight felt good in the cooler morning air, even if it was a constant, nagging reminder of his dependence on Matoba's hospitality. At least he had been polite enough not to overtly call Shuuichi's attention to it. So far.
He was not quite the first one there, and exchanged polite nods with the two prior inhabitants of the room – members of subsidiary Matoba branches, he was fairly sure; they appeared vaguely familiar. When the lessons had started in earnest several days ago, no one had bothered to sit down and do introductions. They probably all knew each other already – from this past week, if nothing else – and, well. Everyone knew Shuuichi.
He crossed to the opposite side of the room and slid the doors open. The sun had begun to peek out above the trees, shading the tatami floor a paler color and sparkling off the pond. He stood there for a moment, hand still on the door, drinking in the sight.
(He wondered if the man-made shiki did the landscaping, too, before dismissing the thought as petty.)
He sat in the corner beside the door, where both the veranda – though unfortunately no longer the pond – and the rest of the room were in view, and his back was safely to a wall.
He trusted Matoba's guarantee of security as much as he trusted anything, but. Well. It never hurt to be cautious.
Eyes mostly closed, he attempted to focus on pulling his youryoku inward, folding it into a tight core at his center. Much as his hands felt … fuller, more real somehow, when he flared his power, tucking it away made him feel … empty.
(Even the gecko seemed to move slower and less frequently. Although that part was probably just his imagination.)
A bit of his power still leaked, but hopefully not enough to make a difference. He also couldn't hold it for long. Usually it was long enough to try building that barely-there blue-green shield that had surrounded Aoi the first night, tapping into the energy that surrounded them in a way that Shuuichi didn't entirely trust just yet.
Then his hold on his youryoku would slip and he'd have to begin again.
So he kept practicing. He'd mastered more difficult techniques before with far less aid.
The letters sat against his chest, feeling far heavier than a few sheets of paper.
Taki's letter, especially. He regretted not taking the opportunity to gather more than a fleeting impression of the girl who couldn't see, but knew how to draw wards and seemed at least as familiar with Natsume's secrets as Shuuichi himself. But perhaps it was just as well – he'd called too many of Natsume's friends to the attention of the broader exorcist world already.
The map she'd attached had been hand-drawn, but more than detailed enough for Shuuichi to recognize the area. A red pen had been used to mark what she had labeled in a careful hand as "the initial warded area". A surprisingly broad area – he had not thought Isuzu-san that well-versed in warding. Though still, of course, only a small fraction of Yowake's total size.
Her letter had contained no expectations, just: here we are, thought you should know, you're welcome to join us.
(The lack of suggestion that he pass the information on to Matoba, he thought, was a deliberate omission. Not an entirely surprising one, given the way they'd departed. Perhaps the only surprising party was that they had invited him.)
It was tempting. Incredibly so. The thought of returning, not to the stifling weight of childhood memories and too many strangers who knew too much about him, but to something almost like a real town …
There would still be too many strangers, of course. But he'd have his own place again. He hadn't realized just how much he'd come to rely on that, how much he'd miss it, until he'd suddenly found himself almost constantly surrounded by people, with sleep his only sanctuary.
He could be useful there, too, helping Isuzu-san with the wards. With him there, she could go back to her village if she preferred.
He'd be able to do so much more than just sit behind the wards, staring at the kokuei outside the front gate and feeling helpless and angry.
… Or sit here, utterly failing to concentrate.
Shuuichi suppressed a sigh – no need to broadcast his inattentiveness – and began again. A handful of others had entered the room since he last took note (another sign that he'd been far too distracted), including Matoba, seated near the front and center of the room. Even those who'd been here before him seemed to have shifted closer.
Shuuichi stayed exactly where he was.
He wanted to join Natsume and his friends in Yowake, with an intensity that surprised him. But was it truly the right choice? If nothing else, that kokuei at the front gate would be … problematic.
(Unless he could get rid of it somehow – but no, he had barely even started to grasp the defensive techniques Aoi already knew. A weapon, if such existed, would be a while coming. Too long to wait.)
And yet – as Taki's letter had mentioned, neither of their groups could stay holed up forever.
Write Sekihara-san about the offer. Let them discuss it. And stop thinking about it.
Shuuichi breathed, slow and deep and quiet, and began again.
#
"Your grandfather wished to know when you would return," Sasago said. She stood when he entered the room, meeting him halfway to hand him a letter. From Sekihara-san – his response, presumably.
"Really?" Shuuichi said, not sure whether to be more surprised by her words or the fact that she'd said them at all. Neither she nor Urihime liked the rest of his family. After he'd had to forbid them from cursing or otherwise attempting to harm them (several times), they'd compromised and started ignoring them completely.
"He is in favor of this move, but does not trust Sekihara-san to keep sufficient watch alone."
"He wouldn't be alone," Shuuichi said absently, as he opened the letter and quickly read it. "Souji-kun is with him."
A retiree and a middle-schooler.
Shuuichi wondered if he'd find Matoba half as irritating if he didn't also have an unfortunate habit of being right at the most inopportune times.
The letter spoke of tentative interest in the move, but mentioned a number of necessary preparations. Reading between the lines, especially given Sasago's report, it wasn't difficult to see that Sekihara-san was trying to subtly ask that same question.
He wished he had a good answer to give.
"My grandfather wanted to know?" he repeated. "Since when does he trust me to do anything?"
Sasago remained silent.
"Your family may have greater regard for you than you give them credit for," Hiiragi said.
"Or perhaps they have reluctantly acknowledged your skills may be useful," Sasago snapped, seeming personally offended by Hiiragi's unfounded optimism.
"Perhaps," Shuuichi agreed. He wished he knew why it still even mattered. Too much time spent back at the main house, probably.
He wondered if he'd ever feel properly at home again.
"Will you want to send a reply immediately?" Sasago asked.
"Hm? Ah, no. You can rest." Shuuichi smiled at her. Her lips lifted in a small return smile as she disappeared back into dormancy.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he reopened them, the room didn't look any different, but he could feel his power curled up in his gut, and his fingers felt ever so slightly cold.
The state didn't feel natural yet. But he could at least enter and exit it mostly at will. If only building his reiryoku shield was going anywhere near as well.
He stood. "I'm going on a walk."
"Are you planning to do something foolish?" Hiiragi asked dryly.
"Ahaha. There aren't any kokuei at the gates, here."
"I wouldn't put it past you to find one, anyway," she said, and stood as well.
Shuuichi considered saying that she didn't have to come with him, but decided to save his breath. "That would be a lucky find," he said instead. "But I'm not going looking for one."
If she'd asked him what he was planning on looking for, he wouldn't have been able to say. But she simply inclined her head slightly, her attitude one of obvious disbelief, and fell into place at his side.
The halls were, as usual, mostly empty. He passed one human – an older exorcist, Moriyama-san, he thought? – and several of Matoba's man-made shiki. They paused as he passed, turning their masks to watch him go. He resisted the urge to speed up, knowing it was unlikely that either Matoba or Nanase-san had given them explicit instructions about him.
He stepped outside and shaded his eyes against the sun. He glanced to the right, towards the building where their sessions were usually held, then deliberately turned his feet left. He walked past small teahouses and ponds and buildings; paused at the center of a decorative bridge and looked down into the pond briefly, watching the flashes of red and white and black as the koi swam by.
His grasp on his power slipped, flooding back out through his body. The fish scattered.
"You have made much progress, this past week," Hiiragi said.
But was it enough? Or at least enough that he could continue making progress on his own?
He folded his power away again, and walked on.
The light seemed to dim as he walked deeper into the forest. "You will miss dinner," Hiiragi said, her tone aggressively neutral.
Shuuichi shrugged. "I'll just get a tray again. They're used to it by now."
"Nanase-san will disapprove." Now she just sounded amused.
"Whatever shall I do?" Shuuichi asked dryly. He'd run into her a few more times, and mixed in with the polite queries about how the training seemed to be going, she always seemed to have a comment to make about his disinclination to mix with everyone else.
Happily, he cared about as much for her disapproval as he did for his family's.
His power started to slip. He paused, took a deep breath, and solidified his hold.
How sensitive were the kokuei? Would they be able to take advantage of a momentary slip-up in his youryoku if his shield remained otherwise strong? He knew better than perhaps anyone else here how fast the kokuei could move when they put their minds to it. On the other hand, Tanuma-kun had walked through one unharmed, and although he had vastly less youryoku, he wasn't completely lacking it.
But was that because his strength was in houriki, not reiryoku? According to Aoi, both had been proven to work, but did they work in different ways, or have different effects?
There were so many things they still didn't know; that even Aoi, with his greater experience actively combatting them, didn't know.
And Shuuichi – like any exorcist – knew well just how dangerous lack of knowledge could be.
Yet neither could he stay here forever. He didn't know what Yowake would be like, or how difficult the journey would be to get there. But he had to believe that it would be better – that they would be able to do more – than if they just kept hiding in the Natori compound.
He exited the undergrowth into a small clearing, the boundary to the wards clearly visible on its other side.
"I do not recommend this course of action," Hiiragi said, catching up to him.
"I would have been shocked if you did," he said, grinning at her. "I'm not going hunting for kokuei. I just wanted to see something."
He ducked under the barrier and just stood for a moment, taking a deep breath. The wards weren't oppressive to a point that they interfered in his ability to function, or even that he usually consciously noticed. But he still felt just that little bit lighter, having left them.
Another breath as he looked all around, checking for anything suspicious. Birds chirped overhead; he saw flashes of movement of less obvious origin. Could be small youkai or simply squirrels; without getting a close look it was often difficult to tell from a distance.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. And he felt certain that if a kokuei was anywhere nearby, he'd know.
He made the now-familiar mental stretch-yet-not to the forest around him, leaning on its power to construct his reiryoku shield. He'd had intermittent, lackluster success during class, but perhaps here, where the area was wilder, the energies less bound by who knew how many hundreds of years spent being carefully molded into only the intended shapes –
The shield snapped into existence, and beyond it, he could feel the forest, a little bit like feeling wards or particularly strong youkai. It was still a shaky, barely-there sensation, but it felt right in a way that his previous attempts hadn't.
For a breath. Maybe two. Then the shield collapsed, taking with it Shuuichi's control of his youryoku.
He sighed, resisting the urge to curse. This was worse than when he'd first taught himself the basics of controlling his paper dolls. At least then, he'd been able to tell for certain what worked and what didn't.
He folded his youryoku away and tried again. This time felt more stable, until Hiiragi looking back towards the boundary attracted his attention, too.
Matoba stood there, just on the other side of the barrier, eye narrowed in clear interest. For a moment, before a pleasantly mocking expression wiped everything else away. "You're missing dinner," he said blandly.
Shuuichi just looked at him. "As are you," he finally said. A weak reply, and they both knew it.
He considered asking the obvious – what was Matoba doing here – but shelved it as too obvious.
Not for a moment did he believe that Matoba was out here just to remind him of dinner. He must have been nearby and felt when Shuuichi stepped through the wards. It wasn't something that Shuuichi could do consistently, but he spent most of his time in his (mostly) unwarded apartment, alone. Given Matoba's power, if he was paying enough attention or near enough to the breach, it would have been stranger if he hadn't felt it.
"I see I'm not the only one engaging in extracurricular practice," he ventured instead. There weren't that many things it made sense to be doing, this far from everyone else.
"You do, however, appear to be the only one who has chosen to do so outside the wards."
Shuuichi bristled at the implied censure in Matoba's tone.
He was really tired of remembering high school.
"It seemed like an interesting experiment," he said stiffly. "To see whether the wards had any effect."
Matoba raised his visible eyebrow. "Do they?"
"If you have any suggestions on how to conclusively test without having one of the kokuei here, I'm all ears."
Matoba seemed to momentarily stiffen and glance to the side, but as always, his control returned before Shuuichi could quite decide what exactly he'd seen. "If that is your aim, being outside the wards is an excellent starting point."
It would probably be best not to justify that with a response.
"I had more success building my reiryoku shield," Shuuichi admitted grudgingly. "But I don't know whether it's because of the wards, or just because it's wilder out here."
Before Matoba could suggest the obvious course of action, Shuuichi returned. He stepped back under the ward line and brushed past Matoba, then stopped near the center of the clearing.
He reached again. The power flowed to his call, the shield again snapping into place. More weakly than before? He couldn't tell.
"There might still be a difference compared to being outside the wards, but not an appreciable one."
"Hmm." To Shuuichi's surprise, Matoba said nothing more, simply turned and ducked past the line of wards himself. He glanced around the area once, finished it off with an unreadable look back towards Shuuichi, and settled.
Power blossomed around him, forming into a reiryoku shield not quite twice as large and clearly thicker than Shuuichi's own. It held for several heartbeats, then crumpled. He couldn't help being glad that even Matoba still had trouble, although the power he could bring to bear was far greater.
(But then, Shuuichi had known that for almost as long as they had known each other.)
"Very interesting," Matoba said. Another thoughtful glance towards the deeper forest, and he stepped back within the wards. "I agree, there does appear to be a difference."
"I'll talk to Aoi tonight," Shuuichi offered. He had a few questions he wanted to ask, anyway. "It might make sense to have a session out here. Or even move permanently."
"Hmm."
There was something dissatisfied about the tilt of Matoba's mouth. Surely he didn't want to be the one to talk to Aoi? Shuuichi might not have interacted with him much, but Matoba seemed to go out of his way to avoid talking to the crow youkai.
"… You don't seriously think he knew this might happen and kept it from us?" Shuuichi asked.
"It is not outside the realm of possibility."
"But why? What possible benefit could he gain from hindering our progress?"
Matoba eyed him disdainfully. "Surely you're not that naïve."
True. Shuuichi could think of a number of reasons – anything from simple mischief to guaranteeing himself and his companion food and a safe place to stay for that much longer. But Aoi didn't seem like the sort of youkai who would indulge in that sort of behavior.
"It's much more likely that he simply didn't know," he said. "What's the harm in assuming that he is working with you in good faith?"
Shuuichi was not Natsume, with his uncanny ability to befriend almost every youkai he came across. But he'd found that many of them were far more open to reason than he used to think.
Matoba just looked at him.
"I doubt Natsume would knowingly bring a youkai here with a grudge against the Matoba family." Shuuichi paused. "Or at least not one who would let his grudge overcome his ability to work with you."
Like you're doing right now, he almost said. But he'd had enough of offering unsolicited advice to someone with no intention of listening to him.
He shook his head and turned to leave.
"You place a great deal of trust in that boy," Matoba said suddenly.
"He's proven worthy of it so far." Natsume might still be too inclined to believe in others, and too inclined to throw himself into danger, but Shuuichi would trust his moral compass over his own, any time.
There was a reason he regretted having introduced Natsume to the exorcist world.
Although he wondered, now, what might have happened if he hadn't. Would the Fujiwaras have survived on their own? Would his half-hearted warning to Touko-san have been enough?
Certainly neither he nor Aoi would have been here.
Did it really make a difference, either way? They were here now.
And he still didn't know how to decide that he knew enough.
But he wasn't getting any closer to figuring that out standing here and talking past Matoba.
He turned back, and met Matoba's eye. "Personally, I think it's better to act as though you believe they're acting in good faith, until or unless they give you reason to believe otherwise. It doesn't hurt to have fallback plans, but people are more likely to respond to the appearance of trust than disdain. And youkai aren't that different."
Natsume had taught him that much, even if Shuuichi was incapable of the sort of sincere trust his friend possessed.
"Is that a line from one of your dramas?" Matoba asked.
Shuuichi surprised himself by laughing. "No, but perhaps it should be." He could think of a few characters –
But there were no dramas anymore.
(Honestly, why wasn't he over this, yet?)
"Anyway, I'll talk to Aoi," he said.
Maybe it wouldn't make a difference. But he wouldn't know for sure until he tried.
#
"… Interesting," Aoi said. They both sat in his and Kaoru's room, Kaoru lounging a short distance away.
"I haven't really felt a difference," she offered. "I mean, to be fair, I probably wouldn't. I'm still trying to awaken my reiryoku in the first place, after all."
"This entire compound is so steeped in spiritual energy that I hadn't thought it would matter much," Aoi said, looking thoughtful. "But perhaps I'm now familiar enough with the techniques to be able to work with a broader range of energy."
He shook his head. "If nothing else, we should hold a class out there at some point. You're certainly not the only one having trouble." He paused. "Thank you for telling me about this."
Shuuichi shrugged. "It seemed like the least I could do."
"Many of your compatriots would not agree."
"That's because they're assholes," Kaoru said dismissively.
She was not … entirely wrong.
"You haven't encountered any … trouble, have you?" Shuuichi asked, uncomfortable even broaching the subject. He really didn't know how to do this 'looking out for people' thing. Especially not when Aoi seemed to have been doing a perfectly good job of looking out for himself so far.
"No, it's been fine," Aoi said, looking somewhat amused. "I appreciate the thought."
And being caught at it was somehow even worse. Shuuichi thought back to his conversation with Matoba that afternoon and hesitated. "You … don't mind working with someone with Matoba's reputation?"
"There are certainly plenty of other people I would rather work with," Aoi said dryly. "But so far he seems willing to treat with me – with us – fairly. As long as that continues, I do not object to working with him. If nothing else, he seems remarkably effective."
He made a vague, "no offense" sort of gesture towards Shuuichi.
"There's probably no better place for you to be," Shuuichi admitted. If Natsume had come to him …
Honestly, they'd probably have ended up here, anyway. There was more truth than he cared to admit in Matoba's assertion that he couldn't do much alone.
But then, how much less could everyone back at the Natori compound do without him? He might be only one person, but he was one person, and that had to be worth something.
"How much longer do you plan to stay?" he asked.
"For as long as I'm still needed," Aoi said. He regarded Shuuichi. "How much longer are you staying?"
At some point, he must have made his decision without properly noticing. Now all that was left were the details.
"Only as long as necessary."
The words drifted in the air between them, making Shuuichi's decision feel more real. He hesitated, then admitted, "I don't know how long that is, though. How can I know that my control is good enough? That I won't just get myself" and everyone else "killed?"
"Well, I would recommend continuing to avoid the kokuei if you have a choice. If you don't …" Aoi looked off into the distance somewhere beyond Shuuichi's shoulder. "Once we worked out how to build the protections at all, we made it a rule that everyone who went out on patrol had to be able to hold up a full-body shield for at least five minutes."
"While being distracted or startled," Kaoru said.
Aoi nodded slightly. "We added that qualification … after."
"Though Aoi-chan passed those additional qualifications with flying colors, too," she added, her grin sudden and impish.
Aoi shot her a look that was clearly trying and failing to be severe. And – was he blushing? "I noticed no one else had to deal with quite that … particular brand of distraction."
Shuuichi decided it would probably be better not to ask.
"I'm not there yet," he admitted. "Especially not given how much the surrounding environment seems to affect things."
"Most of what you're lacking is practice, I suspect," Aoi said. "And nothing says that that must be done here."
"And that wedging technique you mentioned before? For peeling the kokuei off someone they've already attached to?"
Though if people without power were really consumed as fast as Tanuma-kun claimed, perhaps thinking that he'd even have the opportunity to do anything was nothing more than hubris.
"I'd been considering bringing it up within the next day or two anyway," Aoi said. "It's not difficult to grasp, once you have the basics of controlling your reiryoku down. Though again, gaining the necessary fine control to actually use it –"
"Takes practice," Shuuichi finished, smiling wryly.
Well, it wasn't like learning anything else had been precisely easy, either. At least none of this had blown up in his face yet.
He stood and stretched. "I look forward to tomorrow's lesson."
"Did something happen, back at your home?" Kaoru asked. "You've kept in contact with them, right?"
"Everyone at the compound is fine," Shuuichi said. "But I hadn't originally planned to stay even this long, and now that it looks like we're going to move to Yowake –" Right. He hadn't mentioned that yet.
"To join Natsume?" Kaoru asked, and smiled. "Then we'll see each other again for sure."
"You could –" Aoi started. Kaoru looked at him, and he shut up.
"I look forward to it," Shuuichi said, gallant smile sparkling over his sincerity. And, to Aoi, "Thank you for this conversation. It was … enlightening."
A few more days. He could do that much.
And five minutes while distracted – well. If practice was what he needed, he'd just have to see how much he could squeeze in.
#
If everyone is agreed, please go ahead and start the preparations. I expect I will be able to return within the next several days. I am curious what you had in mind for transport, as it seems preferable to avoid walking if we can…
#
I greatly appreciate the offer you have extended, and have passed it on to the others back at the Natori compound. After some consideration, we have decided to accept. As you mentioned, in this world it is far better to be together than divided.
Logistics have not been entirely settled, but we hope to arrive sometime within the next week. I have asked Urihime (my shiki who is carrying this letter) to place herself at Natsume's disposal in case any arrangements need to be made directly between yourself and Sekihara-san, who is the exorcist in charge at the Natori compound in my absence.
Please let him know especially if there are any supplies you in Yowake are running low on or lacking, that we might be able to provide either from our own dwindling stores, or find on our way …
#
Shuuichi carefully folded the last of the clothing he had worn during his stay, and stacked it with the others on top of his equally carefully folded futon. He might never bother to do so at home (at the apartment he'd abandoned and would probably never see again), but he also knew the value to observing formalities.
He stood, and made a half-hearted attempt to smooth out a wrinkle in the shirt he'd been wearing when he'd gotten Tanuma's message.
Artfully unkempt would just have to do.
"Time to go," he said. Hiiragi nodded and disappeared back into dormancy.
A last visual check showed the rest of the room in much the same state as when he'd arrived. He struggled to place his reluctance to leave. It wasn't that he'd precisely liked his time here.
Perhaps it was just that he could already feel the weight of responsibility returning to his shoulders.
(As though it hadn't been there all along.)
The man-made shiki watched silently as he walked down the hall to Aoi and Kaoru's room.
"Safe travels," Aoi said.
"Thank you. Good luck," Shuuichi said. "Let me know if you develop anything else of interest."
"I feel certain you'll be one of the first to know," Aoi said.
"Say hi to Natsume and everyone for us," Kaoru added.
"I will."
There didn't seem to be much else to say.
Almost to the front entrance, a familiar voice from an adjoining corridor stopped him. "Ah, Natori-san."
He turned. Matoba strolled towards him, unhurried, looking like he'd just happened to be walking down this particular corridor at this particular time.
Shuuichi wasn't sure he believed in that sort of coincidence.
"Matoba-san."
Matoba came to a halt not far away and clearly paused, taking in his attire before returning to Shuuichi's face. "You were not intending to inform us of your departure?"
Shuuichi suppressed a childish urge to lie and say he wasn't leaving. And an equally childish urge to say that he'd been on his way to do just that. Matoba was too perceptive for either. "I informed Aoi," he said instead.
Considered, then added, "We are moving to Yowake, and my presence has been requested to help with the process."
"You really think you'll be able to protect them?" Matoba asked. "With nothing more than this?"
His shield flared into life and died away just as quickly. Both their shields had grown in the last several days, but it was still at least twice the size of Shuuichi's own, and doubtless also stronger and longer lasting. He didn't even need to say anything for Shuuichi to recognize that he would not even be able to offer that much.
It wasn't like Shuuichi didn't know that already.
"I can protect them far better there than here," Shuuichi said. "And I may not be able to protect them all alone. But I won't be alone."
He doubted he'd be even as helpful a teacher as Aoi. But he ought to be able to do something. For Sekihara-san and Souji-kun and maybe Takuma-san as well. For Natsume and his friends. For the youkai they'd both invited in. (At least the ones who'd be making the trip with them – for Momiji and those who intended to stay, all they could really do was cede them control of the Natori compound and the safety of its wards.)
"Do you really believe that their naïve plan has any hope of succeeding?" Matoba asked. Not as contemptuously as Shuuichi had expected, but almost, perhaps, honestly curious.
Shuuichi smiled, and granted an equally honest response. "No." He didn't know if any exorcist would. They'd all seen too much. "But I think it's worth a try. And I believe it's better than the alternative."
Matoba looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end just shook his head. "There is room for you and yours here," he said, the When you change your mind left unspoken.
Shuuichi didn't think he would. "I appreciate it. And your hospitality thus far."
"It is only what anyone would do in this situation."
But you were the one who did.
Shuuichi didn't repeat Touko-san's words, nor did he wish Matoba luck. He wouldn't need it.
"Until we meet again."
He inclined his head slightly, turned, and left.
#
"For the record," Hiiragi said as she set Shuuichi down near the entrance to the Natori compound, "I still think this is a terrible idea."
"It is certainly not the safest thing I've ever done," Shuuichi agreed. There wasn't much point in hiding that. "But you will be here. And better to find out now than when we're really in trouble."
"Better not to get into that sort of trouble in the first place," she grumbled, but conspicuously didn't argue his point otherwise.
"Ahaha, on that we agree."
Shuuichi took a deep breath, pulled in and folded his youryoku away, breathed out, and pulled up his reiryoku shield, strong and solid in his grasp. He couldn't quite manage five minutes yet. And he wasn't entirely immune to distractions. But it ought to be enough.
He strode forward, Hiiragi hovering close enough to his side to be well within the bounds of his shield, and tried not to let doubt cross his mind.
The kokuei at the front gate still pooled there. Shuuichi couldn't tell whether it had grown, or simply that he had forgotten its true size in his week and a half away.
Just before his shield would have crossed onto the pooled shadow that formed what he thought of as the "body" of the kokuei, Shuuichi hesitated, even as he told himself not to.
In the end, it didn't matter – at such close range, it had already begun to move towards him.
As the shadow hit the leading edge of his barrier and divided like it was a wall as solid as the fence that lined the property, Shuuichi forced himself to neither hold his breath nor celebrate just yet. Just – breathe, and step forward slowly.
"We are now fully surrounded," Hiiragi reported.
The smoke that hovered above the shadow – the most dangerous part – hit his barrier with equal force and met with equal success.
Shuuichi allowed himself a small smile.
"All right, I think you've made your point." Hiiragi picked him up and leapt into the air – one jump to the top of the wall, one to the ground on the other side.
By the time they landed, his barrier had dissipated.
A small crowd converged on him, Sekihara-san and his father and grandfather in the lead.
"That was reckless," Sekihara-san said, but his slowly dawning smile reminded Shuuichi of how he'd felt when he first heard that Aoi had a way for them to fight back.
"But it worked," Shuuichi said, pulling on a confident grin like no other outcome had ever occurred to him. "I'm by no means an expert, but I can teach you and Souji-kun what I've learned so far. And anyone else who's interested – reiryoku potential does not always align cleanly with other sorts of power –"
"Shuuichi."
He stopped. Looked towards his grandfather.
The older man smiled. Stiffly, like the expression was not an entirely familiar one. Yet also strangely sincerely. "Welcome home."
It took Shuuichi a moment to find his voice. He had no idea what his expression looked like.
Why has it ever mattered?
Why does it still?
"I'm back."