Well, I mean, it is Wednesday. Not to say things are going to be back on normal schedule. With all the shit going on in RL right now, I make no promises on swift updates. However, don't think I'm abandoning the story. I still have some pretty big pans for this.
Nothing bad is happening, it's just been busy as hell. I got a promotion, which means more hours (yay!) and I still got family stuff, but no one has died (this month) so that's a plus. Anywhore, on with the "sho!"
Do I look lonely?
I see the shadows on my face.
People have told me I don't look the same.
Maybe I've lost weight.
I'm playing hooky with the best of the best.
Pull my heart out my chest, so that you can see it too.
I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall.
The lace in your dress tingles my neck.
How do I live?
- Death of A Bachelor - Panic! At The Disco
Human Inhuman
I stared at my own face reflected back at me in the tiny mirror.
Icy orbs stared back impassively, not a hint of the inner conflict I felt. The communication compact sat open in my hand, my thumb hovering over the power button. It would appear fairly normal to anyone who should happen to come across the scene, not that anyone would be entering my room on a Saturday. Kazuma had already left, his eyes brighter with the length of time he had slept. I was envious, as my night had been quite restless.
There was no hint of pain or discomfort, nothing to suggest I had been injured in the first place. Yet when I peeled back the edge of my top (trying all the while not to wake my brother sleeping next to me) there were two very obvious lacerations over my rib cage. The lack of sensation was mildly worrying, but I retained full range of motion, so really, there was likely no point in being anxious over it.
I could always go to Kurama instead…
… I clenched my teeth, breathed deeply, and pressed the little red button.
"Why didn't you say anything about this before!?"
I frowned in admonishment at the Spirit's volume. Unlike before at Kurama's home, she may easily be overheard here by any passing member of my family.
Botan's hands hovered over my middle, her brow drawn tight in focused consternation, the scolding glance she gave me making my eyes roll in response. She had come quickly, appearing only minutes after I had made the call. I was curious how these communication devices worked, but I was unable to make any inquiries in the wake of her clucking and fussing.
"I had forgotten about them," I replied honestly. Her look of incredulity was comically exaggerated, the swelling of emotion seeming to make her grow several times larger than she was.
"How do you forget two pieces of metal stuck in your side!?" she yelled, and I shrugged, looking away and refusing to acknowledge the rising embarrassment that warmed my cheeks.
"There wasn't any pain," I muttered. "Regardless, it's been well over twelve hours and the supposed poison has yet to have any effect-"
"POISON!?"
I flinched.
It took a minute or so to calm the shrieking harpy, and I managed to get through the ordeal without uttering a single threat. Progress was progress, even if it felt more like a step backwards. With her hands glowing a soft blue stirring circles in the air over my middle, she wove her energy through muscles and tendons, the feeling not dissimilar to having insects crawling over my skin. Her brow furrowed when she finished, pulling back with a confused frown.
"Well, they're in there alright. And they're warped too, all bent out of shape and mangled. I'm still shocked by the durability of your musculature. Seems like your obliques were hard enough to force the needles to conform to your body shape. You're sure you don't feel any pain?" I shook my head at her question, and she gave a short noise of surprise.
"Well, I would still recommend getting them removed. You haven't been very active since the fight, so there's a possibility too much movement will cause even more damage. And even if you somehow manage not to tear something, you'll set off metal detectors for the rest of your life!" I rolled my eyes, adjusting my shirt so it lay more appropriately over my torso.
"What are my options for removal? Surgery is on the table I know, but are there less… invasive methods?" She frowned at my question, fingering her chin thoughtfully.
"We could always consult Spirit World Medical, but I don't think I've ever heard of anything like this being done without cutting the object out. Especially not since your body has made them so difficult to remove in the first place. The incisions would have to be extreme!" She shuddered, and I could understand her issue with this particular flavor of butchery.
"That's not exactly appealing," I admitted. "However if you were to utilize your healing immediately after, I wouldn't need to conceal the injury and risk exposure."
She blinked, bemused for a moment before tilting her head with a smile just short of patronizing.
"Oh no, I wouldn't be the one removing the needles. You would need to go to Spirit World for the procedure and have a professional perform the surgery. They would probably put you under while they work, but I could stay with you if you-"
"That won't be necessary," I cut her off with a hard look. "As long as they don't restrict my movement or cause me pain, they can remain where they are."
Her eyes, like her mouth, were wide as she tried to process my decision. When her little mind finally caught up, she sputtered intelligently in protest.
"I- but you-now hang on! You want to leave them in there?" I blinked. "But why? That makes no sense!"
I gave a dismissive sniff, moving to stretch in various positions, testing my range of motion.
"I will not be left defenseless in the hands of your doctors. I have no intention of letting them mutilate me while I am unaware, and I'm certainly not going to let myself be incapacitated in Spirit World," I listed, finding that there was not even a hint that anything was out of place, my flexibility remaining as it was before. Odd. I should feel something, a pinch or a prick in my ribs, something to indicate the foreign bodies.
"What do you have to be afraid of there?" she questioned in oblivious exasperation, and soulless black eyes flashed in my memory for a moment. "It's not like you're in any danger, I mean, it's Spirit World!"
"I said no." I gave her a cold glare, to which she responded by tossing her hands into the air out of frustration.
"You're being ridiculous," she proclaimed. "Will you at least go to a hospital?" I raised a condescending brow.
"And what would you have me tell the human staff? How should I explain that not only are there two needles lodged in my side, but apparently I'm durable enough to have mangled them while they were still inside?" I asked, my voice taking on a scathing tone. "Apologies Doctor, I seem to have gotten on the wrong side of a demon."
She shook her head with a frown that was suspiciously close to a pout.
"So you're just going to leave them there?" I nodded.
"Unless they prove to be an issue. Speaking of issues, you've said nothing of the poison," I reminded her, and to my surprise (and great offense) she rolled her eyes.
"Well I was going to tell you before you decided to announce the stupidest thing I've heard in years," she bit out, and I curled my fingers to keep them from twitching and giving away my inner turmoil. "There wasn't any indication of toxins. You showed only the puncture wounds, nothing more."
My hands relaxed on their own, my body leaning back a touch as if I were trying to consider the statement from a different angle. So far, this view proved no more enlightening than the last.
"The demon implied…" I began, then stopped. In truth, he had made no mention of poison, though his regard for the needles as a dishonorable means of victory had brought it to mind. What else then, if not poison? Surely the needles themselves would not be enough to bring a man down.
"Whatever made you think that, you don't need to worry," she assured me. "There's nothing in your blood that shouldn't be there. But you really should get those checked out-"
She blathered on, her attempts to convince me futile. There was no possible way of explaining this to human doctors, not that I would appreciate being cut open by them any more than those of Spirit World. Nor was there a possibility of me allowing myself to be anesthetized in the same room as that black-eyed nurse.
"You're impossible," she accused almost venomously. "I try so very hard with you, but it's like you do everything in your power to be as difficult as possible! Even Yusuke isn't this bad! You're always rejecting me, pushing me away, all out of spite!"
"I believe that is what's commonly known as a hint."
Her face ran an impressive shade of red.
"You think your little rebellious streak is going to keep me from doing my job? Ha! Well, I've got news for you missy." I eyes the finger that was dangerously close to the tip of my nose. "I don't care how long I have to put up with your misbehavior! One of these days, you're going to wake up and realize how much of a little monster you're being, and I'll be right there to say 'I told you so'!"
It took me a moment, and watching her eyes light up in surprise, before I realized I was smiling. The beet-like hue of her cheeks coupled with the atmospheric shade of blue surrounding her face made for an amusing contrast on her normally perfect skin. Her ire, hovering about her like a horde of angry bees without stingers, only amplified the comedic value of her truly pathetic attempt at scolding me.
It was, to be frank, too much fun for me to ever consider admitting she could have a point. When her anger provided this much entertainment, there was little else I could imagine her offering. Such a funny, dim little Spirit.
"I'm certain you will be," I told her, allowing my smile to fade. "Was there anything else?"
She frowned, though the look was far less severe than I expected. Her lips worked with words unspoken, and I could feel curiosity building within me. Her expression shifted to one of unease, nervousness, and no small amount of worry.
"Well to be honest, I was going to come meet with you today anyways- after I knew if you were awake, of course," she added quickly. I blinked slowly, keeping my gaze on her twitching face even as she looked away.
"What happened?" I asked, an inquisitive tilt to my head. She took a deep, stabilizing breath, something that may have filled a lesser person with dread.
"Spirit World cleanup reported back just a few hours ago," she began. "They recovered the five dead humans in the living room and found three more horribly butchered in an upstairs bathroom."
That accounted for all eight. I had hardly been in a mood to count or care the day before.
"What else?" I prompted impatiently, and her frown deepened.
"You see... they searched the whole property and… I'm not really sure how to tell you this, but that demon you fought was nowhere to be found."
I felt my body stiffen suddenly, the stillness seeming to extend its power over the entire room. A pin dropping on carpet would have made enough noise to startle me, simply from the shock of that obviously false information. She hovered over my desk quietly, her eyes anxiously awaiting my reaction, then clouding in confusion when there was none.
"Did you hear me?" she prompted, and I clenched my teeth.
"What did they find?" I asked at long last, my mind running through the scenario I had lived mere hours before.
"There was plenty of blood left where and no tracks or anything indicating he got up on his own," she told me, fingers ticking off each point of interest. "And nobody took the body either. It's like it just vanished. Although the crew did report elevated energy levels that didn't match anything on record."
I thought for a moment, but just a moment.
"He mentioned his armor was enchanted," I recalled. "Perhaps there was a spell that would remove him, should he fall."
"He would have needed a portal for that," she said dismissively. "The one he was attempting to create was incomplete, it would have been useless. Not to mention it was going the wrong direction." I gave her a curious look.
"Are the portals not two-way?"
She shook her head.
"Not the one he was trying to make. From what the analysts said, the way the energy was moving would only have been good for creating a pull, like when you open one door and the change in air pressure makes another across the room close."
I considered this, brow furrowed, said: "Then he was attempting to bring someone through, but from where? Demon World?"
"Most likely, she agreed. A sigh like a growl left me, the unfamiliar noise accompanied by the sting of regret, something I rarely felt in such a way or for such a situation.
"And I killed him. He can tell us nothing," I lamented, my expression stiff. "Whoever was waiting on the other side will know he was thwarted, and will make another attempt at some point."
"You can't be sure of that," she said, optimism coloring her voice a distasteful shade of witless.
"I can," I argued. "I wouldn't expect you to understand, but it's something I am certain of. His masters, these Sidhe he spoke of… Whatever their goal is, they will not simply give up now. They will try again." I could feel the small tingle of excitement swelling in my chest at the thought. "And when they do, I will kill them too."
Botan rolled her eyes at my casual statement, but I cut her off before she could return with some sarcastic or otherwise irritating reply.
"And the dog?" She blinked, bewildered for a moment. "Was the dog still there?"
I flinched even as I asked. This should not have been a question I had. It should not have held such priority, nor weighed as much on my mind as it did. Yet the morbid curiosity was there. Whether it came from my own mind, trying to find any and every possible clue to my condition, of from Hers, desperately grasping for some small hope at the animal's survival, it didn't matter. The question was there, and it would not accept anything less than a direct answer.
Certainly I myself, as Hotaru, was unhappy with the animal's demise. It was, as the death of any animal I could have saved, a needless occurrence. This alone did not explain the grief that twisted my heart, and it took very little thought to deduce the feeling did not come from me.
This emotion reigned our joined thoughts, overtaking the muted sorrow I was limited to and transforming it into a powerful surge of feeling, pure and sharp as it pierced my mind and ran through my grey matter like thousands of tiny knives. It was a glacial intensity, leaving me almost immobile, unable to move with the strength of the pain. This was more than compassion. This was greater than sympathy for the innocent hound. This was personal.
Somehow, the woman within me was connected to that dog, and his death had impacted Her greatly.
"Yes, it's definitely dead." Whether the woman heard Botan's reply or not, or if it even mattered to her, I couldn't tell. There was no reaction. She was silent, closed off to me completely. Perhaps in Her anguish, she had shut Herself away to grieve alone. Not that I would be able to tell. I felt no different now than I ever had.
And that was what I found most troubling. If She was, as I suspected, lurking in the recesses of my mind to wait for Her opportunities to take control, it was likely She was privy to everything going on around me. My life, my thoughts, my actions, there was always, and likely always had been, at least one witness. One person knew everything, and that was one too many. And if, perhaps, She had been influencing me from the very start, as Koenma suggested…
Nothing I had ever done had truly been of my own volition. Though, the thought that I had any claim to innocence was laughable at best. I knew exactly what I was. Knowing She was there didn't change that. It didn't change what I had done, not any of it, and I would not ask for this excuse. I would not admit this weakness, not even to myself, and certainly not to Her.
…
Botan finally departed, leaving me to my thoughts, and it was with no small amount of satisfaction I watched her go, the normally placid blue of her hair looking almost frazzled, like a balloon had been rubbed on the strands. If nothing else, her irritation was a nearly endless source of entertainment. She had finally found a way to be useful to me once again.
I slouched in the chair at my desk, unwilling to retain good posture when no one was around to witness it. My eyes stayed locked on the small book which lay open on the table. The introduction, one I had painstakingly memorized upon receiving my tools, read a little differently now after my most recent encounter.
- This text is a complete record of all sigils, runes and written spells utilized by the Tuatha de Danaan. For various origins of symbols found inside, see Index. For rules regarding the use of symbols as full spells, see Page 11, Written Magick.
Your Curse Pen is a tool that combines the versatility of Spirit Energy with the direct focus of Magick to produce long-lasting and specific effects on chosen targets. This tool may be used as a weapon, though it's applications lie more in logistics and defense.
The Curse Pen is the modern adaptation of the Magick Wand or Staff. While more complex, the effects have proven to be longer-lasting as well as more potent. This is due largely in part to the use of Curse Ink, which adheres to a solid surface more readily than Spoken Magick (See Page 14 for reference) as well as bypasses preexisting Magicks placed on said object.
WARNINGS:
Do not utilize your Curse Pen in an everyday capacity, EG: typical documentation, signatures, notes.
Do not misplace or otherwise incorrectly stow your Curse Pen. Curse Ink is volatile and can be unstable when used improperly or without intent.
Do not attempt to utilize your Curse Pen with Demon Energy. Violent reactions have occurred under such circumstances. -
It was, as many other of the Spirit World texts, short, to the point, and lacking in sufficient exposition. The Spirits seemed to still carry much of the knowledge not documented, though in the confines of their own minds. The librarians in the other world had been proof enough, expounding on incomplete passages with details that, at least to me, seemed crucial. Perhaps it was that this information was an innate part of their kind, passed down genetically or telepathically, and they kept only the bare minimum to jog their memories every now and then.
Of course, it could also be that their records department was as abysmal as their toddler princes ability to provide sufficient data for assignments. The extensive table of contents listed far more than what was available. Out of the list, only five of the categories existed: Runic (Celtic), Runic (Norse), Ogham, Futhark, Celtic Sigils.
Further identified, yet not displayed within the confines of the pages, there remained ten or so more categories. Beside each of them, contained in parenthesis, a page number was listed, as well as a page section.
I stared at the list, willing the answer to come to me. The page indicated was little more than a single letter in Ogham, one of those in the section referred to as the Tree Alphabet. I had searched the page for answers before, though not with as much urgency as now. I flipped to page 72, exactly halfway through the book, and stared once again at the simple markings at the top of the page and the small paragraph beside it.
- Uath- the name of the white-thorn, though commonly referred to as hawthorn. The perfect representation of the idea of duality, Uath is a balancing force in spellwork meant to bridge the gap between contrasting or otherwise conflicting elements of magick. The point of union of opposites, hawthorn in it's physical element is used in crafting modern skeleton keys which will allow transit between opposing worlds.
Dair- the name of the oak, often utilized-
I sighed, leaning away and clenching my teeth in frustration. This was getting me nowhere. Each category indicated I turn my attention to Uath. Was this to mean I must achieve balance before moving forward? Could the information somehow be aware of the warring contradictions inside of me? Or was it a clue, some riddle I had yet to even begin to understand.
I shut the book, sliding it across the desk until it was flush against the wall.
"I doubt any libraries in human world would help me," I mused to the empty room. Though it was not so empty, not really, as a yawn sounded from behind me.
You read too much, the soft voice mewed. You sit and stare, but at what? Words will never move. They are not prey.
I rolled my eyes.
"They move in my mind. I gather information from words, I'm not hunting them."
But you hunt very well.
A muffled thud indicated the weight of a very small body dropping to the floor, and a moment later that body was winding around my ankles. Downy fur brushed soothingly against my skin, fuzzy and warm and familiar. A tail twitched against my knee as the animal contemplated how best to achieve her goal.
Up now.
I moved the chair back a bit. Two paws prodded experimentally at my thigh before the lean, striped body threw itself into the air, landing gracefully despite the wobbly surface it chose. She butted the top of her head against my chin, to which I responded by bringing my face closer to hers. One paw came up to my collar as if to hold me in place, rumbling purs shaking me down to my very bones.
You should hunt. Prey will tell you more than words, she advised. I hummed, not quite in agreement but not in thought either.
"There is no prey," I responded in a dull tone. "Anyone who knows anything is beyond my reach, or else off limits. Words are all I have."
Her entire body seemed stuck to mine as though she was magnetic, and I was quite sure I would need a very thorough application of a lint roller, al least several sheets to be sure all the hair was gone.
What are the words? She asked and I shook my head, finally raising both my hands to massage her neck and ears.
"Nothing you would understand. Just trees and opposites." She trilled in confusion. I shrugged. "Words are very strange."
They do not exist, not really, she sniffed dismissively. Make them real, and they will exist. That word, she flicked her tail in the direction of the bookshelf, though which book in particular she was referring to, I could not be sure.
That word is mice, but mice are not there. The word is wrong. But you make the words real when you hold the shiny-smelling pen. A smile twitched at the corners of my lips, and I let it.
"How exactly does something smell shiny?" I asked mockingly, and she flicked my nose with her tail in admonishment.
It does. You have a weak nose. How are you a good hunter with such a bad sense?
"I hunt with other senses," I told her. She gave a noncommittal trill, moving away and ending the conversation abruptly. Cats, I had found, were quite subject to sudden changes in mood. Where she was chatty one minute, she may grow bored or irritated, or simply feel that there is no more to be said no matter what I may think of the matter. Cats were selfish creatures. Selfish, and incredibly compassionate. Though Eikichi was less vocal, likely due to her age, she exhibited many of the same traits of her more tempestuous mother…
With exception to Mami's unique ability to have physical contact with spirits. Those poor animal apparitions, either demonic or living, that attached themselves to me found my roommate significantly less welcoming. Her jealousy was endearing, and so she earned my forgiveness for her rude slights.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair into a long stretch. Several of my vertebrae clicked dutifully in response, the sound all but lost under the dense flesh aching from being hunched over the book for so long. The room was stiff and silent now, filled with an irritable tension that kept my thoughts stagnant. An open window could clear the air, or an open door. However, when I moved to crack said door, the scent wafting from the first floor drew me out of my room like sucking poison from a wound.
It had been quite a while since our father had enough free time in the day to make lunch for the whole family. It must have been Father. Whatever was cooking smelled not only edible, but potentially decent. I highly doubted I would ever happen upon Kazuma in the kitchen unaccompanied by instant noodles, and the lack of smoke was evidence that Shizuru had kept her hands away from the stovetop.
My suspicions were, of course, correct, and I was not the only one to observe the smells coming from the remarkably clean kitchen. Kazuma exited his room mere seconds after I did, his wide eyes sparkling as his mouth split into a grin.
"Is it someone's birthday or something?" he queried with ill-concealed eagerness. I shrugged, noting as he followed me down the stairs that he had finally changed into his pyjamas, likely hoping to spend the day lounging in the game room.
"I'm sure we would be aware if it was," I replied, both of soon arriving in the doorway. Father was there, as I predicted, a grin set in his sharp features as he turned to give us a winning smile.
"Thought this would get you two out of bed," he remarked with satisfaction. "Got home pretty late last night, huh? Out partying with friends I bet." Kazuma froze, but my head canted to the left in consideration. It was the way his smile curled inward more than up, I think. His eyes crinkled out of obligation, not at all touched by the corner of his mouth as it turned inward suddenly in an expression more artificial than cup ramen. There was a knowing gleam, one that implied he knew neither of us had friends inclined towards partying, but he was not going to broach the subject.
"Exactly," I said with a nod. "You know middle-schoolers. Insatiable in their desire for inappropriate social behavior."
Father laughed, the disturbing curl gone now, and I could feel Kazuma deflate behind me. He perked up again instantly, pushing past me to see what was on the stove.
"What's cooking? Smells awesome," my brother commented, leaning over the pan invasively. Father pushed him back with an elbow to his sternum, his faux anger coloring his voice a soft vermillion rather than a crimson.
"Hey, back off! I don't need you drooling on it!" He turned back as Kazuma sulked, humming slightly as he maneuvered whatever meat was cooking. It smelled like chicken, but slightly off in a subtle, infuriating way. "Just a little something my Mam in the states used to make. I haven't had it in years, just thought of it again yesterday."
I looked to the counter, where a wrapped package of beef cube steaks sat half empty, the clear plastic giving me a perfect view of the near burgundy chunks of meat. My spine stiffened. Diluted blood pooled on the white foam of the container, oozing from the red flesh as though it were still alive. Beside it rested a box of panko, also opened, and a mixture of what appeared to be flour and some liquids making a gravy of sorts. So then, country fried steak, just as Mam made upon her singular visit several years prior. I wouldn't expect Kazuma to remember, as he tended to inhale whatever was in front of him without bothering to experience the flavors.
My throat convulsed.
I remembered enjoying the meal once. It was tender, salty but not overpoweringly so, served with flaky, crumbly pastries, biscuits I believe. The gravy only enhanced the natural flavor of the steak, while the biscuits acted as a palate cleanser, though not as effective as ginger.
Nausea?
Despite the fond memory, I found my stomach suddenly deciding it was some sort of acrobat. If the flips and twists in my middle were any indication, it was quite talented. It left me feeling as though I'd just jumped from a roller coaster that was still moving, my guts threatening to eject through my mouth the longer I stared. I may have noticed the gravy and panko, but my eyes had been unable to completely leave the meat.
My lungs stopped taking in air.
Raw, red, dark and still bleeding, it was obviously beef. I couldn't help but remember rib cages splayed open like crimson bathed anemones and viscera clinging to patchy black and white fur. An echo of a memory reached my ears of a long, drawn out wail of agony, the flesh still twitching in spite of the hearts absence, and the stench of filth, festering, and fear.
Painful spasms ripped through my midsection, and I struggled to hide the pain.
I had carried a conversation with those beasts. True, it was limited, and they lacked even the mental acuity of a toddler, but even I was nos so monstrous that I would eat said stupid toddler. The fact of the matter was that, were those chunks of meat still attached to a living, breathing animal, I could speak to it.
And it could speak back.
I tore my gaze away, vaguely aware that the room had gone silent, save for the popping of oil in the frying pan. I looked at my Father, whose expression was somewhere between expectant and concerned.
"Honey?"
I shook my head.
"Sorry, I'm not really interested in eating meat anymore." I flinched at the poor delivery of that assertion. Father's eyes widened in astonishment, and I knew just how tactless my panicked response had been. He opened his mouth, most likely to question my rather abrupt decision, but Kazuma had finally caught sight of the pile of meat.
His face grew ashen, and I felt a mix of pity, and relief that I was not alone in my discomfort.
The conflict was clear, however, as he glanced back at the source of the admittedly delicious smell. His dark eyes flickered back to me as if to convey his dilemma. I shrugged, attempting a reassuring smile.
"What's going on here, you two love this," Father voiced, though he was in no way unhappy. His tone was merely curious, bemused and bewildered at his two youngest refusing lovingly prepared food. Perhaps his eyes betrayed a little of his hurt, but h was a smart enough man t understand that it wasn't his cooking which was the problem.
"I uh…" Kazuma articulated intelligently, and I cut in quickly.
"I've been considering going vegetarian for a while now," I lied, drawing father's attention to me. "Zu doesn't want to make me uncomfortable by enjoying meat, but it doesn't matter to me if you all still do."
They couldn't speak to the cows. It wasn't as if they were eating people.
"Uh-huh," father raised a brow, unconvinced. Kazuma nodded meekly, voicing his quiet agreements while still side-eyeing the raw flesh with barely hidden trepidation. I maintained eye contact with our father, unblinking and unwavering. Whether he believed me or not was irrelevant, and he knew this. It was acceptance I sought, recognition that this was to be the way of things from that moment on.
His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing gaze penetrating deep, possibly deep enough to see the two needles in my rib cage. I stared back, unashamed that he had caught me in my lie and unwilling to explain further. He was my father, yes. But nothing more.
Finally, he shrugged.
"Your loss, kiddo. You're missing out and you know it."
The situation was handled, Father's natural tact winning out over the burning curiosity he hid behind the smile of cooperation. In an instant, any tension between us was resolved, and I watched with some satisfaction as Kazuma gradually began to open up to the idea of eating the carefully prepared steak. Before long, he was enjoying the meal as he deserved, the thought of rotting, butchered corpses far behind him.
I felt I may never be able to move past them, but that was not terrible. Food was food, no matter how it tasted. If it was nutritious, I would eat it. Losing a few things from my diet would hardly matter. In any case, protein could be gained from other sources. I thought briefly of letting Kurama know, as I was not very inclined to break this new rule of mine just to please his mother. Perhaps a compromise?
Light brown eyes like creamy milk chocolate bore into me furiously.
"What the hell is this?"
Genkai, in all her ancient and haggard glory, had been waiting for us at the torii, arms crossed behind her back and a stern look on her equally stern face. The set of her thin lips indicated she was clearly displeased with my arrival, or at least with my decision to include a certain demon in my visit.
"From how far did you sense us coming?" I inquired idly, not expecting the question to receive an answer. True to my assumption, she disregarded my curiosity with a venomous glare.
"You think you can just start bringing your wayward demons here after refusing my advice?" she returned in her own question, clearly a rhetorical one. "My offer was to you, no one else."
I gave a short bow, deeper than one I would give others who spoke to me that way.
"Genkai, allow me to introduce Kurama, my parolee." A brief gesture his way, and Kurama too bowed in greeting.
"Master Genkai, a pleasure to meet you," he told her politely, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I must say, I never thought I would be fortunate enough to meet one of the most famed of human fighters, outside of battle of course," he added, and Genkai's eyes narrowed nearly to slits.
"Yes, I imagined this was the one," she spat, all but ignoring Kurama's comment. She then turned her attentions back to me. "Whatever you've got planned you can forget it. I'm not in the habit of giving handouts to people who haven't earned my attention."
I smiled pleasantly.
"What did I say about giving me that look?" she snarled, and my expression disappeared instantly.
"Apologies, it's habit," I admitted, my head dipping a bit to hide the flush that warmed my cheeks. "In any case, I would not expect your offer to carry to my friend here. I only wanted to ask your permission to enter the Dark Forest."
She seemed slightly taken aback by this request, both of us now ignoring the somewhat affronted demon fox beside me.
"You want to go back in there? What for?" she asked, her tone a mixture of suspicion and concern, as though she was questioning my sanity rather than worrying for my health.
"You claimed the inhabitants of the forest were some of the most ancient species of demon," I reminded her, and she gave a barely perceptible nod, tilting her chin down. "I want to study them. Spirit World's library can only tell me so much about demons and their physiology. To do my job most effectively, I need hands-on experience in a controlled environment. You will be nearby, and Kurama will be my escort, should things go wrong."
She seemed to consider this, raising a brow and angling her head at the demon.
"He's your parolee, not your friend. You really trust him to watch your back in there?"
I felt Kurama shift beside me, a feeling I did not recognize accompanying the action. I glanced to the side to find him looking back at me. Emerald orbs gleamed with curiosity, and yet were resigned in a way to the facts that he was well aware of. Watching that gleam become a light of surprise was amusing.
"I do," I replied, holding his gaze for just a moment longer. I looked back to Genkai. "Kurama would not risk his freedom at this point in time, and we have no bad blood between us." And aside from Yusuke, this demon was really the closest thing to a friend I could have.
He knew my true nature, as much as one could. Like Yusuke, he was willing to overlook and accept it. Unlike my friend, however, he knew me in a way only another killer could. It was more than just acceptance, it was understanding. I may never hold him in such high regard as I do that hopeless idiot Yusuke, but I could appreciate his likeness to us both. He was something of a happy medium on the spectrum of decency, on which Yusuke and I occupied the two vastly separated ends.
The old woman, having no way of knowing all of this, scoffed derisively.
"Never thought I'd see the day a Spirit Detective would cavort with demons so casually," she mused. "It's almost enough to make this old woman cry." The scorn dripping from her voice was thick and viscous, drenching the atmosphere in a pinkish shade of cynicism. The contempt was clearly not aimed at the demon, however, as her eyes fixed me with muted ridicule.
"What do I get if I let you use my land?" she wondered. "You already turned me down once, so unless you think you've got something better-"
"Not at all," I interrupted, though I did note the irritation that twitched her temple at my rudeness. "I refused to take the position of your successor, however I would be remiss not to accept your training in other capacities."
In mentioning the position, I was unable to keep my thoughts away from the nagging at the front of my skull, that urge to keep walking forward, as though my hand was tied by a string, being tugged closer and closer to the other end of the line. Not much further up, I could feel him. Yusuke. He was so close. I could simply ask her... or sneak in at night if she saw fit to deny me. I clenched my hand, hiding it in the folds of the skirt (purple today) and ignoring the tingle, which was becoming a burn the longer I did not heed it.
I could not afford distractions right now. Yusuke was fine. He would be alright for six months. And so would I.
Calmly, in detail, and without backing down, I gave her my compromise.
I would remain home the majority of the week, and I would train alongside Kurama. She did not need to express her doubts verbally, as the shrewd look she cast his way made her reservations known.
With him, I would continue to build my stamina, endurance, and battle capabilities. On the weekends, I would return to discuss and explore the nature of my energy with her. That way, she could spend the majority of her time on her true student while still getting to understand those abilities of mine that were so strange to her.
All this, for allowing me to visit this forest whenever I pleased.
She gave a pensive sigh, the corners of her mouth lifting only slightly as she mulled over my proposal. It was an easy decision, in my mind, to accept her offer to investigate my power. If neither she nor the ancient Kurama could offer any insight, it would be best to utilize any resource I had to try and understand what lay beneath the skin. Genkai especially would be of great assistance when I eventually revisited the topic of the woman within.
That could not go ignored. While my demon friend may be of use in reaching her, Genkai might be better suited to learning about her connection to me, more specifically to my soul.
Genkai took a breath, lifted her head with authority, and delivered her answer.
…
Standing on the edge of the Dark Forest was akin to sitting in a roller coaster at the very top of the incline, the slowing that almost made it seem the machine would stop, yet you knew in just seconds it would plummet down and take your breath away, leaving all your organs behind. My body shivered with anticipation of that plunge, muscles coiled tightly in preparation for the quick, exhilarating movement.
I was happy to be going back.
Looking at the treeline now, I could see where the fog began, just past the thick trunks that made up the deceptively sparse wall which protected the demons within. Unlike the first time I laid eyes on it, the forest did not assault me with the feeling of inescapable death. The darkness and anger remained, but they were more subdued. Perhaps it had to do with my demonic companion, or perhaps it was that I was familiar with the place already. Comfortable even.
Writhing and convulsing with life, the soft mist that clung to the grass moved on its own to clear in a straight line, welcoming, beckoning. No longer were the trees desperately clawing at we who lived, for no longer did we stare back with fear.
"This place…" Kurama trailed off, staring past the warded rope that contained my new favorite vacation spot.
"I know," I responded, allowing the small smile to cross my face. I knew he looked at me then, and I could feel the burning curiosity that paced behind closed lips. "Let's go."
I lead us over the rope, the tingling sensation more familiar now and feeling less invasive than before. I wondered briefly if it recognized me, but dismissed the thought. The forest was alive, not the wards.
We strode down the path the mist had made for us, the wall of vapor closing behind us like a silently crashing wave until we breached the treeline. Unlike before, the fog was nearly nonexistent. Visibility was almost perfect no matter how far we intruded. The darkness was more like a collection of shadows that lay over every leaf and stone, everything silhouetted rather than hidden. It was curious, and I pointed out the discrepancies to Kurama.
"These trees are of a rather primitive variety, much like those found at the center of the Makai's oldests forests," he explained with an appreciative glance around. "I believe the exact name is Misting Agara, though I haven't seen a variety so pure to the original strain before," he mused.
Both my brows raised with interest, watching the fox as he made his way closer to a tree, hands hovering gently over the darkened bark. He did not touch, but his energy extended outside his body, experimentally casting amethyst threads over the plant. I did not need to use my energy to see his power grow and flex as it made contact with the wood.
"I assume you are familiar with other varieties," I prompted, my question going unvoiced. He was a master of perception, however, and answered dutifully.
"Evolution has run its course on most plants," he told me. "The Agara I know react to the presence of fear and release hallucinogenic vapors to disorient their prey, normally weaker demons and humans. These seem to lack the chemicals required to induce hysteria, instead it seems they produce a fog."
He gave a pleased smile in my direction, not taking his eyes off the plant.
"The air is clear now because of the lack of fear. You entered this forest willingly, without hesitation I might add. In fact I would say you were almost eager." I pondered this as he finally lay a hand on the tree, his aura gently coaxing the plant into complying. It hesitated at first, the struggle between its instincts and the new, friendly power visible in the undulation of the bark. Kurama won out in the end, the tree bending to his will. A single branch snaked down, the flexibility startling to me as the wood had seemed so rigid before, and deposited a small round object in his waiting palm.
A seed.
"I enjoy the atmosphere," I told him after a moment, waiting for him to rejoin me. "It is somehow less stifling than the city, despite the heavy darkness of the energy. And the company has proven pleasant."
He raised a delicate brow in curiosity.
"I take it you are not referring to me," he guessed, and I nodded. Turning my attention to the black woods, I finally released the hold I had been keeping on my energy. It did not take the shape of a weapon, rather passing through the pores in my skin like a miasma of violet, stretching and growing, thin and translucent. It had nowhere near the opacity of my blades, barely visible as a shimmer of purple smoke, reaching in vast tendrils through the trees.
Only a few paces away, I heard a choked noise.
"Hotaru!"
I immediately took a ready stance, casting my energy and senses about in a dizzying pattern to locate whatever threat Kurama had sensed. My eyes had meanwhile gone to the demon himself to assess his status. However, it was at me he was glaring with a shocking intensity. For a brief moment, I imagined I would be forced to fend off skilled hands and sharp fangs with how feral his brief expression was.
"Stop that this instant," he all but growled, his voice low and threatening. My heart was throwing itself painfully around in my chest, lungs taking in far more air than was necessary. The air began to grow thick, and it was only my inability to fully process the fear that kept my voice even and my mind focused.
"What are you talking about?" I asked carefully, watching the way his eyes, darkened nearly to black from his blown pupils, raked my figure with wild purpose.
"Your energy," he spoke through gritted teeth, hands clenched to snowy white fists at his side. His body trembled, the effect almost impossible to see through the haze. "You must pull it back, now." There was warning in his tone, and though his body seemed coiled and ready to pounce, his stance suggested otherwise. He was restrained, stock still as he could be with the twitching of his muscles.
I steadily complied, reining back the power until it thrummed and pulsed warmly just over my skin. Little by little, his body relaxed, and his glare softened to an admonishing frown.
"What is going on?" My question was met with a hard stare, which I returned with just as much stubborn insistence. He shook his head in astonishment, his mouth set in a grim line.
"You really have no idea, do you," he mused, more to himself, lifting his chin to look down on me as though I were somehow at fault. "No, I see that. It is yet another innate quirk of your power that I have no understanding of. You cannot imagine how this irks me… though I am comforted by the knowledge that you are not causing this intentionally."
"I'm sure you can imagine how it irks me when you speak so indirectly," I nearly hissed, feeling the heat of indignance inflating my chest. "Tell me what I am doing that is so offensive!"
His fingers splayed open in a gesture of appeasement, arms lifting just a touch in a non-threatening way. His eyes were more gentle now, though guarded. He harbored no ill will towards me, and I believe he never had any to begin with. Something had angered him, or else startled his senses. I needed to match his calm, or we would not proceed peacefully.
That being said, I did not relax my stance, my knees bent in case I needed to avoid his attack.
"It is not offensive, exactly, though it is rather unsettling," he began, and I cocked my head to indicate I would be receptive to his explanation. "I have attempted to coax information out of you before now, but I can see the allure you possess is natural. You have yet to explore the full boundaries of your powers, and clearly you are ignorant to your own capabilities."
My spine stiffened for a moment as I processed this.
"My capabilities… my… allure?" The word felt foreign and repulsive on my tongue, the syllables dripping with a saccharine venom. He only nodded.
"From the very day we met, your energy has called to me." I fell out of position, arms dropping as I took a step back. I attempted to ground myself as the information surged through me, as well as a flood of memories surfacing as though caught in a vast current.
The day we first met eyes, the distracted quality when he approached, only broken from his intense focus by Yusuke's harsh call. He had looked at me one last time before disappearing.
It was so easy, the way we seemed to fall straight into sync with one another. An easy acceptance of my help, a knowing look traded as we artfully manipulated his hospitalized mother, his appealing to me on the rooftop, and his lack of reaction when I threatened his mother's life. Yusuke had hit me… but why hadn't Kurama? He wasn't even angry...
In fact he was open, receptive, a fountain of information that continued to spill. Suspicion in his gaze was always tempered by a gentle calm. Upon my first visit, he was so close to me, physically invading my space to the point I could feel the heat from his body. Was he truly feigning the redness in his cheeks at certain suggestions?
~"I only wanted you to be aware that I too am capable of such charms."
"It's difficult to argue with someone so impossible to deny."
"You have quite the charm about you."~
I could not break my stare even if I wanted to, taking in his thoughtful, patient expression. It didn't make sense in the moment, no matter how hard the gears of my mind turned and ground against each other.
"I was only calling to the wolves just now," I started slowly, and then it clicked. He gave a shallow nod, and I felt suddenly quite foolish. The answer was obvious, hidden only by what my eyes could see. I was blinded by the soft human face, forgetting the demon that lurked beneath, as well as his true form.
"You're a fox." I breathed a sigh of relief. Immediately, I pulled what remained of my energy as close to my center as I could. He blinked, startled by the sudden change in air pressure, and the fog began to lift at a sluggish pace.
"Indeed I am," he agreed, and I shook my head, scolding myself internally.
"I have an affinity with animals, which I believe I now know is linked to the nature of my power. With your human appearance, I never even considered that you might have been affected." His brows rose slightly at my admission.
"Quite a curious array of abilities," he remarked. "Perhaps I was wrong, and there is some demon in you after all." I gave a quiet huff of laughter. He didn't know the half of it, or maybe he did. It didn't matter one way or the other. Now that this misunderstanding was cleared, he might come to relax his guard around me further. At that thought, I paused.
That was preferable, somehow. It was very unlike how I should think, but the idea that I could have some abnormal, extraordinary level of control over him was less appealing than the prospect of him coming to trust me on his own merit. I could tell myself, logically, that this was due to the longer life span of relationships built on mutual trust and respect as compared to the temperamental nature of bonds made by unscrupulous means. I could rationalize this as a tactic of manipulation that was not energy based, but psychologically, by expressing a certain disgust for the effects of my (ignorant) actions.
None of those seemed quite correct.
"Perhaps. I apologize for any distress I have caused you," I told him, dipping my head in muted regret. I meant it too, that was the strange thing. Now armed with the understanding that my own actions have been influenced by another's will, I could truly comprehend how unsettled he must have been to always experience… whatever it was he was feeling when he was near me.
"I wouldn't say distress," he conceded comfortingly. "Merely an inexplicable desire to be in your presence. It was not unmanageable, until today." The muscles in my jaw twitched, the soothing warmth with which he spoke seeming slightly more uncomfortable after the revelation. I had not investigated my affinity enough, and it could have cost me a valuable resource. If he had believed I was attempting to manipulate him… I would have lost him.
"That is not uncommon. Most animals I encounter seem to feel the same way." His head tilted with interest, expression casual as though the reason for our strange dynamic had not just been uncovered. I was perfectly willing to play along with this facade of normalcy.
"Ah, you did say something about wolves just now, did you not?" I nodded.
"There exists a pack of demons here who assisted me in my first trek through these woods. I survived with their guidance." And their sacrifice, but that was irrelevant now. "I cannot call them with my energy, so we will have to search the old fashioned way."
He nodded with a look of deference.
"By all means, lead the way," he told me with a gesture towards the woods. I had hardly taken three steps, Kurama following diligently and closely, before the demon struck the conversation back up, the talking point one I had hoped we would not continue.
"It was actually quite difficult for me not to immediately agree to your first proposal, that we be allies," he said as though reminding me. "The offer was more tempting than I care to admit. My spirit was all but leaping at the chance to be on your side."
Pushing my way through the dark growth that surrounded us, my body kept moving of its own accord, a pitiful attempt to exit the conversation. I made no response, hearing him chuckle idly to himself at my silence.
"And of course, I would never have dreamed of letting you so close to my mother, except for the idea that I might express to you my utmost trust."
I let a tree branch swing backwards as I passed it, but there was no sound of impact.
The tone of his voice was light, suggestive, and a touch on the sarcastic side of innocent. He was teasing me, likely to incite a blush or some other reaction of embarrassment. Obviously he was playing up his 'confession' to bring me further discomfort, as he had on other occasions. I had discovered quite quickly that it was a favorite pastime of his to provoke those he believed would let him get away with it. Namely, this was myself and Yusuke. Kurama had not stopped at Scrabble with my partner.
Every so often, two or three times before he learned his lesson, Yusuke would accompany me on my visits to Kurama. This was of course the perfect opportunity for the fox to needle the boy until he threw his fists or left in a huff. I believed Kurama was trying to be friendly, and Yusuke did not seem to hold any ill will, but it could just as easily have been posturing disguised as friendly banter. By chasing Yusuke from our interactions, the demon was potentially ensuring that my time was spent focusing on him. That thought angered me, and it was even more frustrating to now know that possible hypothetical was my own fault.
I did not need to know about my power for it to have ill effects, and the fact of the matter was that I was completely oblivious, letting my ability shape the situations, completely unchecked and out of my control. But no more. Too much was out of my control now, and this would not be added to the list.
"Then the insinuations with your school friends made it so simple to play along-"
"Stop." I whipped around, startling him into taking a step back. I did not intend to move so quickly, or so sharply, but his casual, drawling voice was close to having itself removed forever. I took a breath to calm myself, but I knew I could not force my expression to smooth. He seemed to understand the sincerity of my anger, mouth closing almost instantly as he waited. Just waited…
That fox… he knew it bothered me.
"Understand, I do not like the idea that my power could have had unintended side effects that I was unaware of. I do not like how my energy has influenced you. It was never my intention, and it never should have happened." His angelic features had finally, finally grown serious, the severe cut of his brow a blessing, like a single stormcloud moving graciously to obscure the jovially oblivious sun.
"This truly troubles you," he inferred, and I did not dignify his obvious realization with any sort of reply, physical or vocal. I waited for him to understand his mistake, emeralds glinting with the depth of thought he was putting into this remarkably simple interaction. "Clearly you fear losing control-"
"I. Do not. Fear."
I hadn't meant to speak, though he didn't seem surprised at all, not even a little bit.
"But for you to react so strongly to so little pestering is quite curious." He continued as though I had said nothing, and that was probably for the best. "Why is it, do you suppose, you are so angered to have caused me discomfiture?"
My jaw clenched, then relaxed. The motion repeated. I inhaled to ground myself, though my lugs felt for the first time too small to accommodate the amount of irritation I was pushing down.
"I… just am," I muttered, looking down to focus on the unmoving grass. Unlike the demon, the grass would not look back at me with analytical eyes, or attempt to pick me apart like some new brain teaser. "Do not speak of it any further."
I almost said please.
It took a moment, but I glanced up briefly to find him giving me a conceding look.
"Alright, I will say nothing more on the subject." I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.
"I am not influencing your response, am I?" To my chagrin, he rolled his eyes in an almost fond way, shaking his head and lifting one hand to rest on his hip.
"And you just asked me not to speak of it. I hardly think this is a subject on which you should be hypocritical." I frowned, watching as his mouth twitched up in obvious amusement.
"I have to be sure now," I retorted, and he hid a snicker behind a gentle hand.
"Have I made you paranoid?"
I opened my mouth to say his name in a tone of warning, but both of us immediately looked away from one another and to the trees surrounding us. It was that feeling of being watched I knew so well, that hint of malice behind the many eyes that now looked upon us, curious,violent, waiting as though held back by the thinnest string.
The woods had fallen silent, even the few strange-sounding birds shutting their beaks the moment the trees stood still. Energy that was not a product of the agara fog permeated the dark air, not nearly as stifling as Kurama's, but still recognizable as demonic, and predatory. Accompanying the eyes were rows upon rows of sharp teeth, glinting with their own feral light, imprisoning thunderous snarls ready to roll over their tongues.
However, I could feel my mouth twitching into a smile, stepping closer to a clump of bushes with my hand extended.
"Hello, Pack," I greeted warmly, the energy I had concealed now leaking into my voice. It was my hope that Kurama would be unbothered by the energy now that it was focused on something, namely not him, and it appeared that was a safe assumption. He did not move, except to look past me with a wary inquisitiveness.
In a matter of seconds, I was tackled to the ground by one, then two, then several large, furry bodies. I heard a startled gasp above the excited, lupine noises, but could not pay any mind to the demon fox. My face was assaulted with warm, wet tongues and frantic nipping at my ears and cheeks. One of them may have drawn blood, but the jubilant energy suffocating my senses made it impossible to care.
Speaker! Speaker! You are here! Pack, Pack!
Many voices joined the chorus of yips and whines, cold noses pushing into me from all sides, gargantuan paws clumsily crushing my legs and hands, claws digging gouges into my skin with the ferocity of their affection. I was buffeted from front to back, unable to find my footing in the tide of bodies twisting and rolling around me. I didn't even realize I was laughing until my eyes finally opened, coming to meet deep-set yellow orbs peering from a white-flecked grey muzzle.
"Alpha," I smiled, and his eyes returned the look. "You are well?"
The wolves around me quieted somewhat, moving just far enough away in their frenzied joy to allow me to sit up. I recognized several of them, and there were now more than seven. Even all those I did not know had greeted me with such enthusiasm. I wondered what Alpha had told them of me, if anything.
I am strong, the large grey animal replied, the language coming easier to me now. He pushed his muzzle into my face, large pink tongue scraping over my brow and cheek in an almost parental way. I was aware he was cleaning the streak of warm blood that had sprung to life. Speaker, you ask for help?
I shook my head, only remembering after that he did not understand the gesture.
"No, not like last time. I only want to… see you, and run with you again."
At this, his flat-furred tail began to wag slowly back and forth, likely all the reaction his aged mind could muster, but his eyes sparkled like faceted citrine caught by the sun. He gave an uff of agreement, clearly pleased by my idea, then uttered a guttural growl, a polite warning to the others to calm down. I stood, dusting myself off, and noted the tense anticipation in the shaking bodies surrounding me. Their eagerness was infectious.
A few of them lapped apologetically at the backs of my hands, tongues coming away red like Apha's, and when I wiped at a line of blood on my chin, that too was cleaned away.
"I have brought a friend. My friend." Some of them had already turned to give Kurama rather vicious looks. "He is a fox, but he is not prey. He is mine."
Kurama, for his part, stood quite still, ready to run but showing no outward signs of fear or apprehension. He stared back at the wolves calmly, eyes cool and daring them to oppose him. A few of them took tentative sniffs, the large black canine near the front (Snap) recoiling in confused disgust.
It is human, and demon. It is strange!
Does it Speak? Another asked, this one a blonde female that I did not recognize.
"He does not speak like me, but he is very old and very strong. He is mine," I reminded them. They would, if nothing else, respect the claim of ownership. He could have been my prey, my friend or my mate, but the word 'Mine' was unquestionable to beasts of the forest. As territory was theirs, as sleeping spots were theirs, as toys were theirs to claim, Kurama was mine.
Alpha grunted, pushing to the front of the pack to assess the demon himself. After a moment, the old wolf was satisfied with whatever he found, looking over his shoulder with a look and stance that exuded authority, ears angled up in non-aggression.
Fox belongs to Speaker, he is Pack.
A grumble ran through the wolves, but none would question the Alpha this day. As it was, I hoped my word was enough for them to accept the new temporary member. One oddly familiar broke off from the pack, cautiously padding towards the demon with his rather large ears pinned to his head. His ruddy brown fur, which sparked a touch of recognition, was raised just slightly, but it was slowly relaxing as he drew closer.
I caught Kurama's gaze and inclined my head towards the young wolf, whose figure remained stuck in my mind as I furiously tried to understand the feeling of deja vous.
Slowly, Kurama bent at the hip, extending a hand, palm deliberately facing up in peace. The pup sniffed, one paw curled against his chest, then an investigative pink tongue darted out to dance over pale fingertips.
The pup turned, an expression of delight conveyed with a lolling tongue, lips pulled back in an exaggerated grin, and huge lopsided ears standing at attention.
Friend!
I stared for a moment as the familiarity of the image finally made sense, and it was with wide eyes and loose posture I took a step forward, my head tilting and brow furrowing in disbelief.
"Spring?"
So, that took a while to actually get done. It wasn't that I was stuck, I just didn't have time to actually write it. See, this here is another added chapter between the meat of the story, and it does actually play a pretty critical role. In other news, Kurama has been adopted by the wolves! Cute? And oh, Fox Boy, teasing a girl when you know full well she'll make you regret it. I love their little friend dynamic.I also really enjoy how much she has grown to care fr Yusuke. Like, she actually misses him, and it's adorable. I just picture her like a dog staring out the living room window waiting for it's human to come home.
Meow for now!