Author's note: I hope everyone who celebrated had a happy holidays and a happy new year. Here's to 2018, new beginnings, resolutions, if that's your thing, and for those who are creative, plenty of inspiration.
Quote:
"There are bad things in the world. There's no getting away from that. But that doesn't mean nothing can be done about them. You can't abandon life just because it's scary, and just because sometimes you get hurt."
―Jim Butcher, Turn Coat
The artist stared at him blankly. "What are you talking about? She's just like the other ayakashi you've been fighting," Kyōsai said, his tone as lacking in emotion as his face. (1)
Don't ask, don't ask… Rikuo asked anyway. "What…?"
"In total ignorance, you cut down all those women…that I turned into yokai." Kyōsai's apathetic expression shifted to a smirk. "You're the sick one," he said, laughing.
Bile rose in Rikuo's throat, and he recoiled from both Kyōsai and the accusation. "Y-you…" Whatever reply he'd intended to make died on his lips as he was knocked to the ground, assaulted from behind by the women-turned-yokai horde.
Torii…Natsumi…must save her… Squashing the guilt and focusing instead on his anger at Kyōsai and desperation to save his friend, Rikuo resorted to a technique he hadn't quite perfected during his training with Itaku. Using blades that were crumbling, barely able to sustain their form as he channeled his Fear into them, he struck at the monster that Natsumi had become, despite his other friends' screams.
The yokai disintegrated, bits of its crumbling form falling around them like rain. Kyōsai's smirk widened. "Friends killing friends. That truly is a picture of hell. Splendid."
Rikuo glared at him. "You sure about that?"
From within the remains of the yokai, Natsumi fell, with Rikuo catching her, relieved that he'd saved her. Except…
She's bleeding? A huge gash splayed open her chest and neck, her head lolling back unnaturally, her eyes glassy and unfocused. No… No! I only cut through the Fear to slice the yokai… Panic zinged through his body like lightning. Did I miscalculate?
He laid her on the pavement and backed away, shaking his head in disbelief. Maki's shrieking, Itaku's bellowing about his unperfected technique, Tsurara repeatedly calling his name…all of it sounded as though it were miles away. Rikuo's focus was narrowed on Kyōsai; after all, this was ultimately his fault.
He launched himself at the artist, thrusting both his blades into Kyōsai's abdomen, only for Kyōsai's form to blur and disappear. Rikuo's heart rate kicked up, and a disquieting voice in the back of his mind prodded him.
Wake up, moron. You know this isn't real…and you know what comes next. Wake. Up.
Despite its nagging and his awareness of the circumstances, the nightmare persisted. Again he found himself paralyzed, unable to move his suddenly heavy body, bound by Kyōsai's kusozu.(2) Then came the unbearable, gag-inducing stench as he began to decay—the bloating, rupturing, oozing of both his flesh and his Fear as he was forced to progress through the stages of a decomposing corpse.
As intense agony engulfed him, Rikuo's ability to fight for consciousness disintegrated, the relived torment momentarily too overwhelming. Once more, the pain from Kyōsai's disturbing technique brought him to his knees, then completely prone, as Rikuo felt himself rotting from the inside, his Fear eroding, melting off him like a noxious, reeking miasma. (1)
Would he be able to save Tsurara this time? Or would he fail, like he had failed Natsumi? No! He slammed his hand against the ground—or tried, unsuccessfully, flesh sliding off the bones of his fingers.
Come on, damnit! You're stronger than this…it's just a fucking nightmare!
Finally, Rikuo broke free of his dream paralysis and jerked out of sleep, finding himself sitting upright, back rigid. He was shaking, his hair and clothes plastered to his skin from sweat, his heart beating so hard it thundered in his ears.
"Fuck." The word tumbled out on a harsh exhale, as he breathed in and out deliberately, hoping to quell the aftereffects of his dream.
Dream? More like a fucking flashback. He rubbed clammy hands over his arms, peeking down involuntarily to reassure himself that there were no fissures in his skin, no insects or beast devouring him.
Rikuo sighed audibly. He'd anticipated the nightmares after his and Ryūji's work with the cases, but overconfidence in the healing abilities of time or perhaps just plain arrogance had convinced him not to take any of the sleep aid Zen had made for him. Idiot. He could take some now but… What time is it?
He'd gone to bed around noon, and it was now a quarter after four. No doubt Ryūji would be expecting to hear from him before too long, and truth be told, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to try to go back to sleep right now. Resuming a previously interrupted nightmare wasn't an uncommon occurrence.
Right, so getting up and a shower it is. Four hours of sleep is fiiiine…
An hour and a half later, food in hand, he arrived back at Ryūji's hotel. When the onmyoji opened the door, his gray eyes widened fractionally.
"Wow, you look like shit."
Rikuo snorted. "Thanks. Didn't get much sleep."
"Clearly." Ryūji stepped out of the doorway and waved Rikuo inside. "Nightmares?" he asked, the customary mockery absent from his tone.
Rikuo simply nodded. Ryūji's lack of ridicule wasn't unexpected—while he hadn't had the unique pleasure of being a corpse while simultaneously being alive, Ryūji had his own demons to cope with. The unspoken understanding was one of the reasons why, their mutual denial of its existence notwithstanding, their friendship worked.
"What's that?" Ryūji gestured to the bag Rikuo held.
"Food. Mom insisted, something about better productivity and critical thinking if we're not hungry," he said, smiling as he thought about his mom's particular brand of stubbornness.
Ryūji made some tea, and the two ate in relative silence for a few minutes. Then, pondering the task before them, Rikuo spoke. "I've been thinking…"
A muffled snicker came from the onmyoji as he swallowed. "Oh? How's that going for ya?"
"Piss off, Ryūji. Seriously, what if we're making this harder on ourselves? We can go through all the files and keep tossing things into the maybe pile, but how are we picking what to consider and what not to?"
Ryūji frowned. "Well, using the three most recent bodies found as a starting point—"
"Right," Rikuo interrupted, "but what parts of those cases? I think first we need to take a closer look at them, possibly the unidentified remains and unresolved homicides we've already reviewed, and use them to come up with something like a makeshift profile. What stands out as conspicuous, what things they have in common, so on and so forth. I also think maybe, for the time being, we should treat the crimes as having been committed by one or more yokai."
Ryūji nodded slowly. "While neither of us is qualified as a criminal profiler, we are qualified experts on yokai…and though starting with such a bias could potentially prove problematic, given the missing livers… It's a logical angle to work from."
"And better than just taking stabs in the dark like we're doing now."
Ryūji's lip curled. "I hesitate to say we were merely taking a stab at it. Or at least I wasn't…"
Rikuo waved his hand dismissively. "Mmhmm. So, work independently, then compare notes?"
A jerk of his head was all the acknowledgement Rikuo received, and the two began the monotonous work of rereading and analyzing the cases of interest.
Later, the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes, Rikuo tossed the last re-skimmed case aside, looked up from his notes, and stretched. "Compare?" he asked.
"Sure…not that I've got anything particularly impressive…" Ryūji said with a sigh, crossing his arms.
"Oi, I never promised impressive. Anyway…" He drew the word out slowly, tamping down on his annoyance. "Though not uniformly across the board, seems to me there's a pattern of bite or claw marks, sort of mimicking an animal attack, missing organs, occasionally unknown bruises on the bodies, and exsanguination as a cause of death."
"Sounds about right. And I don't know if you could call it a 'pattern,' but both the Shibuya unknown male corpse and the Sasagawa case died from asphyxia due to manual strangulation. And did you notice all the victims are under forty?" Ryūji twisted his lips in thought.
"Yeah, but why? Aside from infants, I wasn't aware that the age of the, uh, 'donor' mattered for ikigimo," Rikuo said. "But, with that in mind, at least three of the four with missing organs had them removed while just prior to or at the time of death, which works for our ikigimo theory. As do the missing infants, even though we didn't include them in this analysis."
Ryūji rubbed his temples, ever-present scowl deepening. "Kami, yokai are sick fuckers."
Irritation flared. "Some yokai, asshole. Some. Not all."
The onmyoji made a noncommittal noise and reached for the stack of missing persons reports they hadn't gone through yet. "Can't say I'm certain whether or not your little profiling effort helped, but I suppose there's a possibility it might yet prove useful in finding some kind of trend."
Rikuo clenched his jaw, biting back a rude remark. Thanks for the vote of confidence, you pompous asshat.
They'd been working for nearly an hour when Rikuo took a short break to make some more tea, needing both the caffeine as well as the respite for his aching neck. He made some for himself as well as Ryūji, who ignored his gesture, grabbing another file and starting on it. He couldn't have gotten much further than the person's general description when his gray eyes widened, and Rikuo could almost see the proverbial lightbulb switch on.
"Chotto matte. This girl's a self-proclaimed medium and psychic. Wasn't one of the other missing people a fortune teller?"
As understanding dawned on him, Rikuo sat back down and riffled through the pile he had already skimmed to find the one Ryūji referred to. "Yeah—in Ginzo. Are you thinking—"
"Not sure. But let's see if there's a pattern," Ryūji said, all traces of his former foul mood gone.
Rikuo placed the fortune teller guy's case aside and, before re-skimming the others in the so-called "done" pile, snagged his notes from—as Ryūji had termed it—their little profiling effort.
"Hey, you might be on to something. That Sasagawa chick was supposedly obsessed with vampires for a while, the Lethbridge guy had all kinds of superstitious stuff in his apartment, and that infant, Nakayama Hana…her dad's a Shinto priest."
Ryūji's eyes narrowed. "Oh?" He picked up his profile notes and ran his gaze down it, frowning. "Kamo… Kamo… Of course!" he said, as though the answer were self-evident.
"Care to share with the class, Keikain-kun?" Rikuo asked, unable to suppress his annoyance.
Ryūji smirked. "Kamo no Yasunori was an onmyoji during the Heian period…supposedly Seimei's teacher. It's a stretch, of course, as there's no guarantee this 'Shuichi' is even descended from him, but…"
Rikuo nodded. "It's another person who has some kind of vague connection to the supernatural. Which, again, links to the ikigimo theory."
"Yeah… Like I said…yokai are—" Ryūji began, but Rikuo cut him off.
"Aaaand we've already been over that. For fuck's sake, are all you onmyoji broken records?" Rikuo's words held no heat, though. He was too pleased that they'd found some kind of lead. Finally.
On the other hand… Rikuo glanced down at the mound of yet to be reviewed cases. He forced back a groan. Looks like another long night…
As dawn broke and weak morning sunlight trickled into the hotel room, first Rikuo and then Ryūji yawned. They'd just finished going through all the files, and while they had more than when they'd started days before, what they had wasn't especially encouraging to either of them. But it was better than nothing.
"I guess now we should try to get more information about the victims, see if we can't come up with a better, uh, profile for whoever is doing this." Rikuo sighed. "Of course, the police have already interviewed family, friends, coworkers, other relevant people, but hell, who knows? Maybe we can dig up something new, some aspect of their life those close to them might not have been aware of."
"What else are we going to do at this point? The whole situation's a shitshow." Ryūji rubbed at his eyes tiredly.
Rikuo snorted. "Yeah, and I'm not too thrilled that we don't have a better idea of who could be doing this. Or even who the victims are—what we have is so fucking broad. I mean, we—or the police, rather—can't exactly warn the public, like, 'hey, those of you who have supernatural abilities or are connected to someone who does, play it safe because you could be a target. Oh yeah, we don't know who's doing it.'"
"Right? They'd think the police had lost their goddamned minds." Ryūji blew out a breath. "But if it does get worse, the police may feel the need to issue some sort of warning about a serial kidnapper or killer. I mean, they already did put one vague request for information in the paper, and it's likely they have a standard media policy and plan in place anyway."
Rikuo nodded. "Which is understandable—their priority is public safety. But, to be honest, we probably should try to get them to delay doing so as long as possible, since the resulting misinformation and subsequent public panic and fear is only going to encourage and empower the yokai responsible. Kind of like with the Hundred Stories clan."
Ryūji drummed his fingers against his thigh. "If you're trying to siphon Fear away from the Nura clan, which is a possibility, especially given the location of the most recent bodies, it's not a bad tactic." At Rikuo's glare, he lifted a brow. "What? It's true. That aside, going back to the general populace… If it were a 'normal' serial killer scenario, soliciting public assistance might be helpful, but not in a case like this." Frustrated, he ran a hand through his already messy hair.
Rikuo placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. "Hmm…what if we tried to get non 'normal' assistance then?" The Hundred Stories clan made him think of Kiyotsugu and his help during the incident.
"Such as?" Ryūji asked.
"Well, we could try putting something on some paranormal websites and message boards asking for information. Plus that would give us an avenue through which we could give some kind of warning for those who might be potential victims."
Ryūji's brows furrowed deeper as he considered. "It's…not a terrible idea," he conceded. "We'll have to phrase it carefully though to prevent panic, not to mention people thinking we're just trolls."
Rikuo nodded. "I'll ask Karasu Tengu and his kids. I'm pretty sure at least one of them maintains a profile on some of the main paranormal sites, you know, to keep an eye on things." Then he laughed lightly. "And I think they also find the various 'yokai sighting' stories amusing."
"Of course they do. Anyway, since it's unfortunately damned near impossible for us to even identify every person in Tokyo with potential links to anything supernatural, let alone protect all of them, this is at least one step we can take for now." Ryūji scowled. "A rather pathetic one, if you ask me, but…" He shrugged.
Rikuo could appreciate the onmyoji's irritation at their relative helplessness. "We're doing the best we can, Ryūji. And I've already enlisted the help of Karasu Tengu, the Sanba Garasu, and the Ukiyoe crows to watch over things, but I can make sure the rest of the clan is aware as well."
"I'll touch base with Yura, see what ideas she has. You should probably watch your ass too."
Rikuo scoffed. "I could say the same for you, onmyoji. I can take care of myself."
"Mmhmm." Ryūji rolled his eyes. "Look, I don't know if hanyō fall into the preferred category for ikigimo, but it's possible you and other part yokai could be targets."
He took a moment to consider before nodding. "I'll have someone get in touch with the various sect leaders and verify that no part yokai have gone missing. What about Kagome? She definitely fits our tentative victim profile."
Ryūji barked a laugh. "Cluelessness aside, she should be more than capable of taking care of herself. But I'm not against you telling her what's going on if you so choose."
Rikuo didn't feel quite as confident as Ryūji about Kagome protecting herself against whoever was perpetrating these crimes. Or are you just feeling overprotective? a snide little voice asked. Maybe so. He couldn't care less if it kept her safe. Perhaps the Sanba Garasu could have a couple of their crows keep an eye on her and her family shrine… He made a mental note to talk to them about it later.
As he tidied up his set of case files and got everything together to leave, Rikuo noticed Ryūji eyeing him, looking pensive.
For fuck's sake…what now? Rikuo raised an eyebrow. "Oi, spit it out already."
"Far be it from me to give someone relationship advice, but it seems to me if you're planning on pursuing anything beyond a one-night stand with the miko, you might want to tell her the truth," Ryūji said. "Although…on second thought, don't. She appears to have a bit of a temper, and her reaction is liable to be ohhhh so satisfying."
"For the record, Ryūji, not that I need relationship advice, but if I did, you would be the last person I would go to."
Ryūji raised his hands in feigned acquiescence, the effect of which was ruined by his broad smirk. "Hey, it's your funeral." He snorted, apparently having amused himself. "Perhaps literally."
Rikuo groaned. "And on that note…I'll take my leave. Keep me posted."
"Likewise."
Back at the clan house, Rikuo gave his grandfather and Karasu Tengu a brief update on the situation. He'd fill the others in later, after he'd had some sleep. Once the little crow yokai left, Nurarihyon peered at his grandson.
"So…this Kagome… She still doesn't know you're not human? 'Officially,' I mean?" Nurarihyon asked. Evidently he believed, like Rikuo, that Kagome might be suspicious of what Rikuo really was.
Rikuo shook his head.
"You're going to have to tell her eventually, you know."
First Ryūji, now his grandfather? "I know that," Rikuo said, jaw clenching in irritation. "Though I'm a little surprised you're advocating for me telling a miko about the Nura clan."
"Do you think she's a threat?" When Rikuo shook his head, Nurarihyon shrugged and looked off into the distance. "There you go. And if she turns out to be, we'll handle it." He slanted his gaze at Rikuo. "Keeping secrets is never a good way to begin a relationship. I mean, your grandmother knew right from the start."
"That's because you kidnapped her!" Rikuo snapped.
"And she liked it!" Nurarihyon said smugly.
"Oi." Rikuo held up his hand. "Stop. I don't want to know."
His grandfather rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Kid, you better hope your miko doesn't have a temper anything like Yohime; otherwise you're in for a world of hurt if she finds out you've been lying."
"I haven't been lying. I just…haven't volunteered the whole truth."
The statement was met with a raised eyebrow, and when Rikuo said nothing further, his grandfather snorted. "Good luck with that."
"Maybe I'll tell her Monday. I don't know. Look, I'll handle it, okay?" Rikuo said defensively. "Anyone else want to offer unsolicited relationship advice?"
He felt Zen's presence before he heard him, and his eyebrow twitched.
"If you haven't already, you might wanna apologize." Rikuo turned to see Zen's smirk. "Falling asleep around her doesn't send the best message, ya know." The shit-eating grin widened momentarily before Zen broke off into a fit of coughs.
Rikuo resisted the overwhelming urge to strangle everyone. Curling his lips in a tight-lipped smile, he managed a curt "Yeah, thanks," and strode off. He'd feel less homicidal after texting Kagome and once he got some sleep.
Kagome tossed and turned, shoving her head under her pillow, as if the fluffy rectangle would ward off the nightmares. She should have known better than to tempt fate.
But no, somebody had to go and wish they hadn't slept so soundly Thursday night. Somebody was oh so sad about missing the hyakki yakō. Well, I hope you're happy.
Kagome was anything but "happy," having only slept for about four hours before waking from an especially gruesome nightmare. She'd managed to fall back asleep around six in the morning, only to force herself back awake shortly after when the dream merely resumed where it had left off. And with Kagura and her reanimated corpses playing the starring role, plus Naraku and his tentacles as a prominent supporting actor, it wasn't something she had any desire to revisit.
She tried her calming breathing, her relaxation techniques, even Kaede's grounding and centering practice with her reiki…but every time she drifted back to sleep, the nightmare returned. So by eight o'clock Sunday morning, she threw in the towel. Sleep was just not happening.
It's fine, she told herself. You've got ample things for school to occupy your time, and some training at the shrine and then dinner with the family.
As she grabbed her cell phone to turn off the alarms that she definitely wouldn't be needing now, it buzzed, and a text message notification popped up. A text from Rikuo?
Rikuo: Hey… I'm sorry for dozing off yesterday – I don't generally make it a habit to come see someone and then fall asleep
Kagome couldn't resist the urge to tease him just a teeny bit, so she texted back "and you forgot to bring me something sweet too!"
A minute or two passed, and then her phone pinged again.
Rikuo: I know… sorry… let me make it up to you?
Kagome: no worries… you can pay me back by ensuring I don't fail my math test!
Rikuo: That doesn't really seem like enough, but deal. Anyway, hope I didn't wake you up
She bit her lip. He was being thoughtful, apologizing and worrying about that, while she was fretting over whether he was human. Okay, scratch that…over what he is, since he's clearly not a normal human… Still, though it piqued her curiosity even further, it did serve to lessen some of her worries about him being trustworthy or not. Unless he's lulling you into a false sense of security, that is.
Right. Not going there.
Kagome: Nah I was up. normally I wouldn't be up so early, but you lucked out.
A sudden horrible thought occurred to her. What if he was an early riser? Ugh…
Kagome: Are you always up this early?
Rikuo: Oh hell no. I'm just heading to bed actually
Her eyebrows flew up, and she shook her head to herself. Was sleep-deprivation a habit of his? Of course…it wasn't like she had much room to talk. Pot, meet kettle… That aside, after falling asleep at the sanctuary yesterday, she couldn't not say something. So she sent a quick reply telling him to get some rest.
Rikuo: That's the plan, blue eyes. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow
A frisson of excitement ran through her as she sent back "me too." The nickname he'd unexpectedly bestowed upon her wasn't unwelcome, but she couldn't decipher exactly what it meant, if it meant anything at all. Although, if it was more of an endearment than a casual nickname… Kagome chewed her lip. Better not read too much into it just yet. Still, she couldn't deny she was looking forward to seeing him… But you're also nervous because you're trying to ignore the supernatural elephant in the room… Were there elephant yokai? A frightening thought…
Kagome groaned out loud. "Will you concentrate already? At this rate, it'll be time to head to the shrine and I won't have gotten any work done!"
She perused her bookshelves, snatching rhetoric textbooks and folklore and mythology resources, and then plopped on her sofa with assorted books clustered around her. With sticky notes in hand, she thumbed through the texts, marking relevant passages as she went.
It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes into the process when her phone chimed. Leaning over carefully, lest she upset the mound of materials surrounding her, she snatched her phone from the floor to see a text from Natsumi.
Natsumi: I thought you'd agreed to cut it out with the ignoring texts
Oops. She hadn't responded to Natsumi's text from yesterday yet, a nosy inquiry about both her coffee date with Rikuo as well as his impromptu appearance at the cat sanctuary.
Kagome: Completely forgot – I'm sorry! forgive me?
Natsumi sent an emoji with its fingers under its chin, presumably considering said forgiveness. Then she texted back, "I guess so… BUT on one condition." Kagome sighed.
Kagome: Dare I ask?
Natsumi: Spill. Or better yet, spill AND agree to get together one night this week!
Kagome: You're obnoxious, you know that?
Natsumi: I haven't a clue what you could possibly mean…
Natsumi: TELLLLLL MEEEEEE
Kagome couldn't help it—she laughed out loud. How can someone manage to be such meddlesome matchmaker yet so endearing?
Kagome: There's really not much to tell – we had coffee, I enjoyed his company, he came by the cat sanctuary to see me and fell asleep.
Natsumi: You have the audacity to call me obnoxious and then get all stingy with the details? -_- Fine. I'll pry it out of you in person
Kagome: tbh that's probably better since I have a ton of work to do for school. Tuesday or Wednesday night work for you?
Natsumi sent a thumbs-up and then added, "I'll text you tomorrow or early Tues and we'll work out details."
Kagome replied with her own thumbs-up and then promptly switched her phone to silent. Not that she anticipated any further interruptions, but if she was going to make any headway, she couldn't afford anything else breaking her concentration.
Now, where was I?
Monday morning
After insomnia had thwarted his attempts to get some much-needed sleep, Ryūji called Yura.
Though far less frosty than she had been the last time they'd spoken, Yura's tone still had an edge to it when she answered. "Ryūji-nii-chan…please tell me you have some good news."
"I have news, but I'm not sure if you'll consider it 'good'," he replied.
Her heavy sigh came across the phone line. "Well?"
He filled her in on what he and Rikuo had theorized. "So while technically we have a better grasp on the situation and a rough idea of potential targets, we're not exactly closer to catching the bastard behind this."
Yura didn't speak for a long moment. Then, "I can't say it's ideal, but it's a start. Send me your notes, and I'll see if anyone here has any further insight or suggestions about where to go from here. Thanks, onii-chan."
Ryūji snorted. "You can thank me by having Masatsugu send me that stuff I requested."
"Hmmm…" He heard a noise in the background, perhaps Yura tapping her fingers on something. "The case isn't solved, but…"
"Tch. You never said it had to be solved—you said I had to provide evidence of progress, my darling sister."
"That's true," Yura said slowly. "Okay, I'll have Masatsugu drop it in the mail when he gets a chance. Keep me posted on—"
"Wait, hold on. In the mail?" Ryūji interrupted. "The fuck you putting it in the mail for, Yura? Just have him email everything!"
She laughed lightly. "Ohhh but, my darling big brother, you never said it had to be emailed—you said you just wanted it sent to you." When he gave a frustrated growl, she laughed harder. "Like I said, keep me updated!" And with that cheerful imperative, she hung up.
Ryūji blew out a long breath. "Yare, yare… For Yura to pull one over on me…" A dry chuckle escaped him. "Either I'm losing my touch or it's from several days of shittastic sleep…" Whatever the case, it was clear he desperately needed some more rest.
By Monday afternoon, Kagome's curiosity about Rikuo was making her positively jittery, like a kid hyped up on too much sugar and caffeine, and she really wanted to say screw it, math be damned, and confront him today. But at the same time, she was also nervous about the truth, plus she actually did need to do well on the stupid math test.
The excitement and anticipation over seeing him combined with the stifled "need to know now" had her stomach in knots and her muscles tense, so Kagome decided to go to the cat sanctuary early to try to relieve a little bit of stress. Not to mention it would be nice to be caught up on her work tasks before he arrived.
Feeding the kittens and cleaning their den, as she thought of it, although it actually was an extra-large kennel, came first, with lengthy cuddle-snuggle time. She did her best not to play favorites, but… Oh, just be honest. She smooched the Siamese's nose. This little Kirara kitty is your favorite. She was still sorely tempted to adopt her. We'll see…
Once she got the kittens resettled with some warm towels, she glanced at her watch. She had just over thirty-five minutes before her and Rikuo's agreed-upon meeting time. More than enough time.
Opting for a little aural accompaniment, Kagome popped her earbuds in, dancing and singing along to the tunes as she cleaned the cats' cages and gave them all fresh water and topped off food where needed. She swiveled her hips and twirled, and serenaded the cats with the songs as she worked. How long has it been since I did this? Listened to music and let loose a bit, that is. Too long, probably. Whatever the case, though she wasn't completely relaxed, it served to somewhat quell the anxiety zinging through her.
She lost track of time, and as such, she didn't hear the bell on the front door ring when someone let themselves in, nor did she hear said individual call her name. So when she raised up with a mostly—but not completely—empty water bowl from a bottom cage and came face-to-face with Rikuo, she screeched, flinging water over the both of them.
"What the hell, Rikuo!?"
He wiped his face with the back of his forearm. "Damn, sorry for scaring you like that—I tried to get your attention, but I guess you didn't hear me." He grinned, but she could tell he was also struggling not to laugh.
She pressed pause on her music and pulled her earbuds out. "Well, good to know my heart's still working," she said wryly, taking a deep breath to slow her racing pulse.
Rikuo had the good sense to look sheepish then. "Uh…I'm sorry? Again?"
She affected her best stern expression. "Apology accepted—if you clean up the mess you made."
Instead of arguing that she'd been the one to sling water everywhere, he wisely lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and asked, "Paper towels?"
She pointed to the other side of the room, and when he made his way toward them, she knelt down and returned what she'd been doing. The aging black tomcat named Hades—clearly one of Momo's Greek myth themed group—gave a deep mrow of annoyance at being woken yet again, so she placated him with some gentle scratches under the chin. He squinted his eyes in pleasure, and a loud rumbling purr filled the space.
"Now that's quite a purr," Rikuo said, crouching next to Kagome to peer into the cage.
"Isn't it? Hades might be a skinny old dude, but he's sure still got a big voice," she said, smiling. As Rikuo reached in to pet Hades, Kagome yanked her hand away quickly and stood up, taking a step back. She felt pretty confident she had her reiki under control, but with all the nervous energy running through her and her curiosity over just what he was, she didn't want to risk it.
Rikuo closed the cage gently and turned, his confusion evident on his face. "You okay?"
Somewhere in between thinking up a feasible excuse and speaking it, rationality flew out the window along with whatever she'd intended to say. Instead, she blurted out, "Are you a yokai?"
Oops.
Footnotes:
1. From the line "What are you talking about" to "you sure about that," portions are quoted from the Nuramago manga chapter 172 and up through Rikuo waking up is a variation on what happens in chapters 172-173. And of course, it goes without saying, but I don't own Nurarihyon no Mago ;-)
2. Kusozu are paintings of a body in the various stages of death and decomposition, the most well-known being "Body of a Courtesan in Nine Stages" (by Japanese artist Kobayashi Eitaku in the 1870s).
Author's Notes:
1. No apologies for the shameless cliffhanger ;-) But I will apologize for the somewhat short chapter – I know it's been a while since I updated and it feels a bit like a tease. But hopefully I should have the next chapter out before the end of the month (fingers crossed—had a bit of writer's block on this story lately. Annoying muse.)
2. As always, a huge thank you to all my readers. You are awesome, every single one of you, and your support means so much.