Ushio & Tora: The Jaws That Bite, The Claws That Catch
Chapter 2 of 5
Ushio awoke (amazed that he was waking at all) on the edge of the shore, legs still half in the water. His head was resting on something painful; it took Ushio a moment or two to realize that the 'something painful' was the large lump on the back of his skull. Staring dizzily at the sky, he wondered if his brains were leaking out.... Somehow that didn't seem to be really important, not nearly as important as not moving so that the rest of his aches and pains wouldn't quite catch up. Oh damn... too late. He groaned; it came out as a growl. Somewhat surprised, he raised a muddy hand to explore his teeth; still sharp-? Was he still holding the Spear? Maybe his brains *had* leaked out; testing, testing, this is Ushio trying to think..... Well, that seemed to work. He sat up groggily in the weeds and sedge, pushing a tangle of black hair and mud from his eyes, and cradled his throbbing head in his hands. The Spear lay next to him: not touching him, not at all..... Despite the recent battle, his enemy's escape, and his own rather surprising survival, the fact that he was still sharp-toothed, long-haired and slit-eyed seemed to be the most important thing in Ushio's world right now. Better think about it later, though-that bitch of a river-monster might still be around. Wincing with the pain of his lacerated legs, he staggered to his feet and looked wildly about: nothing, just the river and the shoreline and the large, silver-eyed bakemono crouched among the bushes to his left......
"Tora? Where'd it go? Where'd she go?" Ushio wheeled towards his partner and almost lost his balance, leaning against a boulder and panting. "Did you stop her?" Shakily he reached down to pick the Kemono No Yari up from the mud.
The bakemono growled long, low and frustrated, and snapped "IDIOT. I could barely keep her from drowning *you*. Should I have gone chasing her instead?" He licked at a gash along the side of one wet forearm, then shook water from his mane and sprayed it in a wide arc over the clearing; Tora hated getting wet. Still growling, he stared off across the water. "Stupid Brat. Since when do you go hunting on your own? Getting jealous of my kills?" He hated to be left out of a fight even more. "I could've had that foreigner's throat in my teeth without even getting wet, instead of bleeding all over the place!" He padded down to the shoreline to sniff at the mud, placing his claws fastidiously to avoid the damp. Ushio slumped down onto the boulder and examined his injuries; though deep, the marks weren't bleeding excessively and would heal with their usual rapidity. The worst wound was to his pride-he had fought much more terrible creatures than this one; dammit, to get his ass kicked by a slimy river-hag! "Goddam bitch" he muttered in frustration and looked up to meet Tora's eyes. The bakemono was staring at him with his teeth slightly bared and a wary look on his striped face. "...... What's the problem?" Ushio snarled, shifting his weight from a bruise on his backside. In answer the monster reached out and yanked a soggy lock of his long black hair painfully. Swearing, the Spearbearer jerked away; he pushed his hair once more out of his face and bared his teeth unthinkingly at the bakemono beside him, who only growled and bared *much* larger teeth in response. Startled, he sat back; what was he doing? He raised a hand again and ran it across his face.
"Change" hissed Tora. "We're not fighting now; don't show your fangs to ME, little hunter-mine are sharper. Now *change!*" Ushio blinked at the monster-what the fuck was his problem?!? For that matter, why HADN'T he changed back? Tora was right; the battle had ended, the need for the Spear was over. Frowning, he closed his eyes. The change back was more of a release, slipping from the grip of the Spear like relaxing a muscle. It had always happened on its own; why was it taking an effort this time? Ahhhh, there: he felt the moment of absolute stillness coming on, when the Shape and the rush of adrenaline that came with it dropped away like a shadow, like a garment falling to the ground. It hurt, a little; it always did..... and this time it hurt more than usual; an edged, hollow pain that made Ushio clutch at his chest and draw in a hiss of breath. What the hell was this shit? But after a moment the pain lessened, and he shakily ran a muddy hand across his shortened hair. Whew. Breathing hard, he looked up at Tora. "Something's wrong-the Spear didn't want to let me go this time...." He heard Tora mutter something to himself in a rumbling growl. "C'mon, Tora-you know something about this, I can tell. What the HELL is happening to me?!?" The bakemono shook himself like a great cat; Ushio couldn't tell if it was in denial or simply discomfort. Lightning crackled briefly from his white forelock, a sure sign of his agitation. When Tora spoke there was a rough bitterness in his words that Ushio had never heard before. "Shit... You *belong* to the Kemono No Yari, and you're SURPRISED, Brat? Doesn't that bastard Spear tell you things? This is what HAPPENS to Spearbearers!" and the monster simply leaped upwards and away, streaking off across the sky like an orange bolt of lightning.
Stunned, Ushio watched him go, and wondered just what Tora was running away from.
Soggy and aching, he looked around the clearing one last time and then began the walk home with the Spear across one shoulder. With any luck, it was still early enough that he wouldn't be picked up by the police as a gang member or transient. As a weary Ushio trudged up the path to the escarpment, a single unseen eye watched him from the river weeds hatefully and vowed bloody revenge.
*************
The temple boy sat on a stone ledge beside the temple gate and brooded, the Kemono No Yari leaning against the wall beside him. Wounds bandaged, Ushio was ready to go hunting the slimy thing that had so damaged his pride (as well as his hide) earlier, but first..... he needed Tora. The bakemono had not put in an appearance since the riverside fight, and the temple boy could feel a prickling itch of guilt-the monster had saved his life, surely, and he hadn't said a word of thanks. Besides....... he liked the look of puzzlement that wrinkled Tora's face every time his partner said anything nice to him....... The bakemono loved praise, but still hadn't quite figured out how to handle it (kindness was not exactly something that he had much experience of, after all).
As a warm afternoon breeze flickered through the almond trees beside the gate, Ushio considered: How could he ask Tora about his problem with the Spear? And there were the dreams, too. He wasn't quite ready to deal with those yet. The river-hag, the Spear, and the dreams--- that was enough for anybody's plate. Way too much for him, anyway..... Wasn't this supposed to be summer vacation? Hell, yeah; he should've been out doing something fun, or goofing off, or damn near *anything* besides getting the shit beaten out of him by some water-oni. He watched the shadows shifting on the ground before him; swallows swooped past like little feathered comets, chasing the gentle afternoon breeze across the rooftops. Another shadow caught his attention: something large, just above him in the nearest almond tree. Good-- he knew *that* silhouette, even if the shape that the shadow belonged to was invisible. "Tora" he said reluctantly; "Ummmm-- Thanks for the help with that water-thing earlier. How'd you know I needed it?"
He heard a raspy chuckle above him. "Followed you" said the bakemono in a self-satisfied voice, pleased at having pried thanks from his partner. "You always go down by the river when you want to think, and I've smelled bakemonotachi there. Besides..... I watch you sometimes." Ushio craned his head back to look up into the leaves above him; the monster was draped across a branch like a huge, carnivorous Cheshire Cat. Tora smirked down at the look on his face as the temple boy stared up; "You.... *watch* me? Why?" In reply his partner only shrugged. "Why not? You've got the Spear. I like knowing where it is....." and he looked slantwise down at the Kemono No Yari with his silver eyes. Ushio frowned; it irritated him to know that Tora had been near him without his knowing. Tora was watching him now, the great striped face patterned with leaf-shadow and flickers of sunlight. He looked almost peaceful, sprawled across the branch for all the world like an oversized housecat; his tail twitched gently, fur riffling across his back in the slight wind. Now seemed like a good time to ask the bakemono about the Spear......
"Uh, Tora. What you said earlier about what happens to Spearbearers...... What'd you mean?" He waited for the expected explosion.
It did not come. "That's what happens" said the bakemono matter-of-factly. "The Spear takes you for good. It happens a little at a time at first, then forever. That bastard Samurai was taken so." He growled a bit and flexed his claws at the memory of his former foe and Ushio's ancestor. "You didn't know? Stupid..... You belong to the Spear now anyway; the more you use it, the sooner it happens. I've been watching to see how long it would take-you lasted longer than the Samurai did." The monster chuckled nastily.
Ushio sat very still.
Taken-for good? Did he mean 'changed for good'? He did, didn't he? Sharp-toothed, slit-eyed and long-haired..... He didn't mind it while he fought; the tougher muscles and hide that went with that shape had saved his life many times; but--- that way, ALWAYS?!? No way! Shit, no way.....
Tora continued on. "I saw that you were getting close-- the Spear goes with you now, everywhere, even without touching. That's how it begins. I thought---" and he paused for a moment; "--- that you knew, and that.... when it happened.... we would fight again." A little of the bakemono's earlier bitterness crept back into his deep voice. "We are--- not-enemies now." The ancient monster could never quite seem to say 'friends'. He hissed softly. "I have fought the Spearbearer before and gotten the shit kicked out of me; I thought that would happen again." Now he looked down at Ushio. The temple boy saw the faint crackle of lightning around Tora's brow as he grew more agitated; was the bakemono actually that upset? "I-- do not want to spend five hundred years in the dark again." Now the lightning crackled more brightly and the monster leaped down from the branch to land heavily in front of the frozen boy. Tora snarled a little, shaking his mane from his face. "I would kill you first, Brat. If I could." He began to pace back and forth, his claws scoring the earth, lightning tracing blue patterns around him in the shivering air. The afternoon breeze now carried the scents of musk and ozone. "What will you do, Ushio-Brat, when the Spear takes you forever?"
Ushio shot to his feet, breathing hard and holding the Kemono No Yari crosswise before him. The peace of the afternoon was broken. He felt the familiar beginning rush of the Change-- and, for the first time: resisted it. The Spear fell with a clatter to the ground before him and he faced the monster down empty-handed. "Tora! I don't want to fight you, you idiot! Wait, wait..... You mean I'll stay - like I am when I fight - all the time? Hell, I don't want that!" The bakemono laughed harshly. "Who the fuck cares what you want?!? The SPEAR has you! Did you think you could play with lightning without being burned?" The air crackled and seethed around him; birds took flight in fright. Ushio realized he was shaking, and he slumped back against the wall behind him, eyes fixed on the weapon at his feet. Slowly he bent down to pick it up-- it felt the same, felt no different........ So why did it seem so heavy all of a sudden? He ran his fingers across the shaft and along the edged spearhead, and a sudden pain made him blink as a trickle of blood ran across his fingers from the resultant cut. Blood on his hands-there was always blood on his hands, bakemono blood..... He was a killer of monsters. Would being one make life any different?
Blindly he pushed past Tora and ran out the temple gate, heading anywhere, anywhere at all away from what he had heard. Behind him, a warm wind blew through the empty yard where the monster had paced. The birds settled back into the trees.
*************
At first, as the things that Tora had told him began to sink in, Ushio paid little attention to where he was walking..... Or, for that matter, the fact that he had taken the Kemono No Yari with him, after all. But that seemed so natural by now......
The slanting afternoon sunlight brought him little peace, but the sheer normalcy of the streets beyond the temple gate began to allow his heart and nerves to settle down a little; he began to think again. Panic wasn't going to help..... Ushio found that his steps had led towards a small park that he had been visiting since childhood, a good place to relax, and if there was anything he needed now....... But there was to be no respite; as if in answer to his thoughts, he felt a familiar weight settling not-quite-gently onto his shoulders as Tora's enormous claws gripped. Oddly enough, the temple boy felt a certain anxiety easing.... Without quite saying anything about it, the two mismatched partners had always considered moments like this to be automatic times of truce. Tora could have easily taken Ushio's head off in a single bite, and Ushio could have nearly as easily impaled the bakemono with the Spear-but somehow it just never became an issue.... He acknowledged his passenger's presence with a sigh and a silent adjustment of balance (fortunately, Tora only rested a fraction of his weight on his shoulders) and continued on into the park.
It seemed a little quieter than usual. Only a few children ran and screamed or splashed each other at the fountains, and the noise of the vendors selling okinomiyaki and other items was more subdued than seemed normal. Even Tora said nothing, resting quietly on his shoulders like a great furred thundercloud; he shifted faintly as they passed the takoyaki stall, and Ushio stopped to buy a double portion. He had learned long ago that Tora considered half his food to belong to the bakemono--- a substitute Ushio-snack, perhaps. His stomach growled at the scent of the fried octopus, and he sat for a few moments on a handy bench to eat his late lunch. An observant passer-by might've possibly noticed that the fried food seemed to vanish rather more quickly than one would have thought.....
Ushio could hear Tora crunching the last of the octopus-balls as he licked his own fingers. The simple, prosaic act of eating lunch had calmed him considerably, and he actually felt strangely grateful for the monster's company (not that he would tell this to Tora, of course). He glanced at his partner; the bakemono was watching the children running past with much the same expression that a hungry man might view a bowl of rice; it made Ushio a little nervous.... He cleared his throat, and said softly "Tora. There's something else I wanted to ask you about. Uhhhh.... I've been.... having some odd dreams lately---- " and he heard Tora's rather rude snigger ("....that'll make you go blind, you know...."); "--- not like that, you shithead!" He flushed; a bakemono was *not* the kind of companion to share adolescent hormonal male dreams with! "I mean..... I keep dreaming about..... Ahhhh, never mind. Let's just hunt." He just couldn't do it. The dreams were too hard to talk about. Restlessly he got to his feet and, Spear on his shoulder, trudged towards the nearby riverbank. A few parkgoers gave the weapon rather dubious looks, but at the sight of Ushio's set, grim young face, found other things to do than bother him. As he walked, the grass beside him shifted under the weight of something large and unseen that smelled vaguely of takoyaki.
Ushio kicked at a scrap of paper on the pavement before him; some kind of "lost child" notice..... There seemed to be a lot more of them around than usual, didn't there? Maybe that was why the park seemed so much quieter today. He glanced about: there on that wall, there was another one; and there, on that lamp-post, two of them.... And back behind him, on a vendor's stall, *four* notices.... He stopped for a moment. Huh. The missing children were all recent losses, and all from the river region. Frowning, he glanced at Tora. The bakemono looked restless and ill-at-ease, watching the water with the tips of his teeth just showing; he licked a last crumb of takoyaki away from his whiskers and moved quietly along the escarpment and away from the park. Ushio gripped the Spear more tightly and followed, and the two began doing what had come naturally: hunting.
*************
Tora sniffed at the sedge along the river and then lifted his head to catch the scents on the warm afternoon breeze; he wrinkled his striped face and growled softly. "Jin-ni Griin-tiith" he said aloud, forming the foreign words with some difficulty. "What?" said his preoccupied partner. "Jenny What?" Ushio nervously parted the weeds at the edge of the shore with the Spear's point. "That's that slimy thing we're hunting, stupid.... She's a yokai from the Green Isle and a child-eater; I wonder why? Maybe she just likes tender meat.... She likes to drown them first, and then she crunches them right up." The monster sighed wistfully, possibly at the memory of past tasty meals. A bit sickened, Ushio smacked him lightly upside the head with the Spear. "Pay attention, bakemono. She's been eating those missing children, then...." The temple boy had spent his early life playing along the riverbank; it was all too easy to imagine being yanked in and........ Urrrgh.
He shivered. "So why'd she grab me, then? I'm not a kid" he said, with all of a seventeen-year-old's hauteur. The monster snickered. "Who cares? Maybe you looked good. Maybe you were just convenient, sitting on that rock all alone..... Easy to snatch up and crunch." The bakemono smiled to himself, a terrible smile with sharp teeth in it. Hunting always brought out old memories of his man-eating days; Ushio wondered just *how* much he missed them.
"Tora..." he said experimentally; "Ummm, about those dreams I've been having---" and he hesitated again. "In them, I keep seeing this bakemono with black fur.... And sometimes, I---"; he stopped again.
".... And sometimes *you* are the bakemono, hmmmmmm?" said the monster softly.
Whoa. Full stop. He wavered to a halt knee-deep in riverweeds. "What the--- ? How the hell did you know *that*? Does this---- have anything to do with what you told me about the Spear?" He had been shying off from thinking too hard about the subject, and it didn't look like he could actually DO anything about it, anyway.....
The bakemono sighed, deep and rumbling; he glanced back over one shoulder, and Ushio could have sworn that he looked almost embarrassed. THAT was new. When Tora spoke, it was in an unusually quiet tone.
"I dream, sometimes..... Your dreams are too loud, Brat, and I dream them too. Or maybe you dream my dreams. I... don't know. Sometimes a bakemono's dreams are of things to come--- we do that, so to live..... I dreamed of a bakemono like myself, but with your scars." He bent his head to sniff at a clump of brush and driftwood; his eyes would not meet Ushio's.
"'..... That'll be white....'" said the temple boy, softly, remembering. He lifted his free hand to trace the ridge of scar on his forehead and shivered. "But I'm NOT a bakemono, Tora. Even--- if what you told me about the Spear--- happens, that won't make me----"
The monster cut him off with a curt gesture. "I know, I know, I know! Making a human into a bakemono is a difficult thing. You need death, lightning and blood.... Power, too. They were just dreams. Who can say what to make of dreams?!? I HATE them!" Ushio frowned, curious; "So how come you hate them? Most humans like to dream." He pushed through the weeds and stooped to check out a faint track in the river-mud; nothing, just a dog-print.
Tora growled: "I hate them because..... most of my dreams are bad." And the ancient bakemono moved on ahead, slipping through the brush like the ghost of a tiger.
*************
It was getting dark now. Several hours of fruitless hunting had resulted in nothing more than one hungry, frustrated teenager and an equally hungry, frustrated monster who had been taking his annoyance out on the local vegetation. Several trees once green and alive were now no more than smoking, lightning-scoured stumps. Ushio sat on his favorite stone, once more back in the clearing where he had fought the water-yokai. Ostensibly he was examining a soggy hole in his tennishoe, but his senses were focused on his surroundings, combing the clearing for sounds. Tora had slipped off to a perch in a convenient tree; it had taken quite a bit of hard arguing by the bakemono to persuade Ushio to act as bait, but there he was. Tora had said approvingly that he looked "nice and young and tasty", which did not help at *all*......
So far there had been nothing save the occasional fish-splash, the chirra-chirra of insects in the bushes, and the brief, squeaking scream of an unfortunate rabbit that had ventured too close to Tora's tree. Bored, Ushio sighed and drew a design in the dirt before him with the toe of his shoe. He added a few dots and squiggles with the butt of the Spear, and finally gave in: he knew what he was doing. He was trying (with little success) to Avoid Thinking About Things. Things like being permanently bonded with the Kemono No Yari; or maybe things like dreams, especially ones shared with monsters. He could, with some difficulty, handle imagining life as a long-haired, sharp-fanged, slit-pupiled almost-bakemono..... But that was about it. The dreams didn't even bear thinking of. But as for the other--- the obvious answer was to lay down the Spear forever.
And he couldn't do it. He knew he couldn't.
It wasn't that Tora might finally decide to make an Ushio-entrée out of his 'nice and young and tasty' body-it wasn't the excitement (though, he had to admit, there was something.... essential.... in that, something that his spirit thrived on). It was just--- the Spear WAS part of him now. Life without the hunt, the victory..... the kill.... Was unthinkable. Unlivable. He was Aotsuki Ushio the Bearer of the Beast Spear, and that was that.
That he killed living creatures and it bothered him so little was disturbing; shouldn't he feel more regret? Or even grief, that things died at his hand? Sometimes, lying in bed at night and aching from his wounds, he wondered what kind of darkness he had marked his soul with by having become a killer so young. He might be only seventeen, but he wasn't stupid. *We're always taught that killing is wrong* thought Ushio sadly, *and then we have to go and do it anyway.*
He looked down at the ground again and drew another line with the butt of the Spear. He and Tora had become so very good at what they did; when he had asked Tora why the monster was willing to hunt beside the Spearbearer, the bakemono had looked at him like he was brain-damaged and had said simply "Territory." Youkai and oni were territorial, Ushio knew that. More exotic creatures like Tora seemed to be less so, perhaps because they seldom felt like settling down in one place, unless they took a mate...... But Tora had a place, a 'territory' now. Who could say? Perhaps he felt that he had *earned* it with five hundred years of pain in the dark. But, oh, God forbid that he ever should decide to take a MATE-----
The very thought of little 'Toras' running around, eating the neighbors and (eventually) himself gave Ushio severe heartburn. Hurriedly he turned his thoughts to something else.... the quiet water lapping at the shore, the sleepy chirping of birds settling down for the night, the sweep of clouds above him. Faint thunder muttered a little distance away and the first camera-flash of sheet lightning glittered off of the wet rivergrass. Rain coming. He stretched his stiff back-it had been a very long day, and his eyes closed for a moment against another lightning-flash as his shoulders began to relax......
A quiet splash a little down the shoreline brought his attention back with a jerk: What was that? Eyes still closed, he strained to identify what he heard: the lapping of water, the slight rustling of weeds- whatever was making the sounds was getting closer. He gripped the Spear tightly: he was going to have to Change, and he knew it. This--- was probably the last time, too. *Goodbye, humanity* thought Ushio, as a wave of terror and regret washed through him..... Goodbye to so many things- to the life he was living, to school (how could he go back like that?), to the friends who knew an Aotsuki Ushio who was just another guy. Goodbye---
----- And then there was no more time for goodbyes, as green-skinned one-eyed death erupted from the dark river before him and leaped with a roar, claws extended for his throat!! Water splashed in all directions as Ushio brought the Spear around two-handed to block the leap, already feeling the rush of the Change coming on, like the slow advance of anesthesia but immeasurably swifter:
***cold sweep of fire dancing through his veins and burning gladly, oh at last! from crown to sole/knife-edged golden honing of tooth and muscle/night-eyed clarity of vision sharp as a slice of the moon/and fitting close as skin the aspect and attributes of the Spearbearer wrapping round, never letting go, never, ever..... ***
......and it was over now, over forever maybe. He could hear Tora's roar of fury ("BAKEYARO!!! My river, MY place!!! HRRRRAAAAAHHHHRRRR!!!") and his own anger ignited: Bitch, child-eating monster!! Ushio screamed his own battlecry into the face of the slimy water-hag that was now scrabbling for a hold past the haft of the Spear; she shrieked in return and got a clawed hand past his defenses, raking it across his cheek. With a shout of pain, the Spearbearer wheeled in place and shoved the creature hard! towards Tora, who was rushing through the air like doom personified. With outstretched claws and open jaws, the bakemono closed in--- the water-hag ducked, throwing herself backwards into Ushio with a splatter of slimy hair and cold, cold skin. Swearing, he lost his balance and, falling, raked the Spear's point upwards and across the naked back before him. The thing screamed again as greenish ichor bloomed across the wound; faster than a striking snake it spun about to rake painful claws down the length of Ushio's forearm, trading blood for blood. Two things struck the Spearbearer then: first, that while the hag was slower on land than in the water, she wasn't *that* much slower; and second, Tora and the hag-creature both as the bakemono plowed into her from behind!! With a profound SPLASH!! the three struggling beings struck far out into the dark waters--- and Ushio found himself in a very bad position......
Blackness, wet and cold, closed in on his vision; only another who has fallen into deep water at night can know how black..... Silver froth bubbled past, faint even to his vision; hot pain from his chest told him that the creature had landed at least one blow there! A momentary flash of clarity as he fought his way to the surface showed him Tora, leaping impossibly from one splashing surface to another in defiance of gravity as he slashed downwards..... Darkness closed over Ushio's head again as he was yanked downwards in a floating tangle of Spear and swirling hair--- he jabbed at a green flash of skin, only to be rewarded with another knife-edge of pain across his heart as the creature grabbed him with both hands.... *Shit, nothing to brace against--- I can't fight like this!* he thought, desperate for air; as if in answer, he felt himself torn from her grip by one of Tora's huge hands and ripped upwards to the surface to be flung into the air! Brief flight and confusion, THUD!!, and a blackness again, this time of pain, pain.......
....... and then he was aware again, conscious of his momentary unconsciousness; aware, and fighting to breath...... *Breathe, breathe,* he thought fiercely, choking; *what's wrong, what did she do to me, WHY can't I BREATHE?!?* Hot rivers of pain across his chest told his panicked mind part of the problem: the water-hag had hung on with claws embedded deeply, far too deeply when Tora had jerked him back. *God, no, it hurts--- I'm dying, I CAN'T BREATHE----*
Ushio coughed and choked on the fire that scorched his lungs; blood filled his mouth with a taste of hot copper, and he thrashed against the wet ground.... Tora was suddenly in his view, backlit against the sky like a vision of Hell with silver eyes flashing cat-luminous against his fierce face--- he seemed to be shouting something..... Ushio could see his mouth moving, teeth flashing white, but against the roaring in the Spearbearer's ears the words were lost. And everything else was narrowing in--- the sky, the blowing clouds above Tora, all of it beginning to fade into darkness, darkness.... In horror, Ushio fought the loss of awareness, his mind howling *No, I won't die, I WON'T DIE*, but even the pain was going now. He could still see the bakemono-- he could swear that there was a look of... anguish?... on his terrible, familiar face, as the monster threw back his head to scream unheard words at the blackening sky above. Lightning crackled all around them both, momentarily illuminating the clearing...... Everything was greying out, getting distant now--- only Tora, fire on his brow, seemed real.... Oh, GOD, he didn't want to die yet-
.......He was only seventeen...... But it was so dark..... there was only the lightning......
--- and then he saw Tora reach up with both bloody hands to claw the lightning down from the sky in a single shattering bolt!! and then bring one SHARP, wicked talon stabbing downwards like a sword--- *God, NO Tora, I'm not dead yet, don't eat me YET, wait!!-----* to plunge, crackling......
....... into the Spearbearer's heart........
*************
There are some pains too great for screams; the only mercy shown with this one was that it was brief, and soon ended.
*************
Waking. He was awake. Eyes closed, Ushio lay where he was, afraid to open those eyes...... afraid to see what lay before him. The pain was gone, and that was good, he could breath now..... long, deep breaths, tasting life in each one.
Life?
He had been DYING..... No doubt about that. And Tora had---- his mind shied away from that moment (*Tora had been going to eat you at last,* a little whisper said softly; *you were dying, after all...*), and he tried hazily to remember what his father the priest had taught him........ Uhhhhm. There was this guy, Enma-Dai, who would judge his soul and decide where he was to go..... He felt numb. Ushio was aware, distantly, that he should be terrified, horrified, he was DEAD--- wasn't he? But all he really felt was a profound relief that the pain and loss of breath were gone. He didn't hurt anymore; in fact, he felt good, actually kind of strange, but *really* good. Well..... That should be proof enough that he had actually died--- as far as he could tell, his chest had been torn open (*and Tora struck at me with bloody claws and lightning....... Don't think about that, not yet, it hurt too much*). No-one could live through that and just suddenly be OK, not like this. Oh God..... Being numb was better than being afraid, he thought; he could handle things if he just stayed numb.......
He wondered if Tora was still alive. He wondered if Tora had really......... No. *Open your eyes, idiot; face this instead. It hurts less.* And he opened his eyes.
Darkness, with rolling clouds above. Was he in Heaven? He felt cheated; he had always wondered what Enma-Dai looked like...... He was lying on his side with his head propped against something soft.
He shifted a little to lie on his back; where---? He could smell water, green things, and something salty-sweet--- so many scents they were overwhelming. THAT hadn't been in his dad's theology lessons-that Heaven smelled strong?!? His hair was in his eyes, thick and black-and long.... WHAT the hell? He was..... still in Spearbearer form? He lifted a hand to brush his hair back---- and froze:
His hand was black-furred and clawed.
*************
End of Chapter 2 of 5
7
Chapter 2 of 5
Ushio awoke (amazed that he was waking at all) on the edge of the shore, legs still half in the water. His head was resting on something painful; it took Ushio a moment or two to realize that the 'something painful' was the large lump on the back of his skull. Staring dizzily at the sky, he wondered if his brains were leaking out.... Somehow that didn't seem to be really important, not nearly as important as not moving so that the rest of his aches and pains wouldn't quite catch up. Oh damn... too late. He groaned; it came out as a growl. Somewhat surprised, he raised a muddy hand to explore his teeth; still sharp-? Was he still holding the Spear? Maybe his brains *had* leaked out; testing, testing, this is Ushio trying to think..... Well, that seemed to work. He sat up groggily in the weeds and sedge, pushing a tangle of black hair and mud from his eyes, and cradled his throbbing head in his hands. The Spear lay next to him: not touching him, not at all..... Despite the recent battle, his enemy's escape, and his own rather surprising survival, the fact that he was still sharp-toothed, long-haired and slit-eyed seemed to be the most important thing in Ushio's world right now. Better think about it later, though-that bitch of a river-monster might still be around. Wincing with the pain of his lacerated legs, he staggered to his feet and looked wildly about: nothing, just the river and the shoreline and the large, silver-eyed bakemono crouched among the bushes to his left......
"Tora? Where'd it go? Where'd she go?" Ushio wheeled towards his partner and almost lost his balance, leaning against a boulder and panting. "Did you stop her?" Shakily he reached down to pick the Kemono No Yari up from the mud.
The bakemono growled long, low and frustrated, and snapped "IDIOT. I could barely keep her from drowning *you*. Should I have gone chasing her instead?" He licked at a gash along the side of one wet forearm, then shook water from his mane and sprayed it in a wide arc over the clearing; Tora hated getting wet. Still growling, he stared off across the water. "Stupid Brat. Since when do you go hunting on your own? Getting jealous of my kills?" He hated to be left out of a fight even more. "I could've had that foreigner's throat in my teeth without even getting wet, instead of bleeding all over the place!" He padded down to the shoreline to sniff at the mud, placing his claws fastidiously to avoid the damp. Ushio slumped down onto the boulder and examined his injuries; though deep, the marks weren't bleeding excessively and would heal with their usual rapidity. The worst wound was to his pride-he had fought much more terrible creatures than this one; dammit, to get his ass kicked by a slimy river-hag! "Goddam bitch" he muttered in frustration and looked up to meet Tora's eyes. The bakemono was staring at him with his teeth slightly bared and a wary look on his striped face. "...... What's the problem?" Ushio snarled, shifting his weight from a bruise on his backside. In answer the monster reached out and yanked a soggy lock of his long black hair painfully. Swearing, the Spearbearer jerked away; he pushed his hair once more out of his face and bared his teeth unthinkingly at the bakemono beside him, who only growled and bared *much* larger teeth in response. Startled, he sat back; what was he doing? He raised a hand again and ran it across his face.
"Change" hissed Tora. "We're not fighting now; don't show your fangs to ME, little hunter-mine are sharper. Now *change!*" Ushio blinked at the monster-what the fuck was his problem?!? For that matter, why HADN'T he changed back? Tora was right; the battle had ended, the need for the Spear was over. Frowning, he closed his eyes. The change back was more of a release, slipping from the grip of the Spear like relaxing a muscle. It had always happened on its own; why was it taking an effort this time? Ahhhh, there: he felt the moment of absolute stillness coming on, when the Shape and the rush of adrenaline that came with it dropped away like a shadow, like a garment falling to the ground. It hurt, a little; it always did..... and this time it hurt more than usual; an edged, hollow pain that made Ushio clutch at his chest and draw in a hiss of breath. What the hell was this shit? But after a moment the pain lessened, and he shakily ran a muddy hand across his shortened hair. Whew. Breathing hard, he looked up at Tora. "Something's wrong-the Spear didn't want to let me go this time...." He heard Tora mutter something to himself in a rumbling growl. "C'mon, Tora-you know something about this, I can tell. What the HELL is happening to me?!?" The bakemono shook himself like a great cat; Ushio couldn't tell if it was in denial or simply discomfort. Lightning crackled briefly from his white forelock, a sure sign of his agitation. When Tora spoke there was a rough bitterness in his words that Ushio had never heard before. "Shit... You *belong* to the Kemono No Yari, and you're SURPRISED, Brat? Doesn't that bastard Spear tell you things? This is what HAPPENS to Spearbearers!" and the monster simply leaped upwards and away, streaking off across the sky like an orange bolt of lightning.
Stunned, Ushio watched him go, and wondered just what Tora was running away from.
Soggy and aching, he looked around the clearing one last time and then began the walk home with the Spear across one shoulder. With any luck, it was still early enough that he wouldn't be picked up by the police as a gang member or transient. As a weary Ushio trudged up the path to the escarpment, a single unseen eye watched him from the river weeds hatefully and vowed bloody revenge.
*************
The temple boy sat on a stone ledge beside the temple gate and brooded, the Kemono No Yari leaning against the wall beside him. Wounds bandaged, Ushio was ready to go hunting the slimy thing that had so damaged his pride (as well as his hide) earlier, but first..... he needed Tora. The bakemono had not put in an appearance since the riverside fight, and the temple boy could feel a prickling itch of guilt-the monster had saved his life, surely, and he hadn't said a word of thanks. Besides....... he liked the look of puzzlement that wrinkled Tora's face every time his partner said anything nice to him....... The bakemono loved praise, but still hadn't quite figured out how to handle it (kindness was not exactly something that he had much experience of, after all).
As a warm afternoon breeze flickered through the almond trees beside the gate, Ushio considered: How could he ask Tora about his problem with the Spear? And there were the dreams, too. He wasn't quite ready to deal with those yet. The river-hag, the Spear, and the dreams--- that was enough for anybody's plate. Way too much for him, anyway..... Wasn't this supposed to be summer vacation? Hell, yeah; he should've been out doing something fun, or goofing off, or damn near *anything* besides getting the shit beaten out of him by some water-oni. He watched the shadows shifting on the ground before him; swallows swooped past like little feathered comets, chasing the gentle afternoon breeze across the rooftops. Another shadow caught his attention: something large, just above him in the nearest almond tree. Good-- he knew *that* silhouette, even if the shape that the shadow belonged to was invisible. "Tora" he said reluctantly; "Ummmm-- Thanks for the help with that water-thing earlier. How'd you know I needed it?"
He heard a raspy chuckle above him. "Followed you" said the bakemono in a self-satisfied voice, pleased at having pried thanks from his partner. "You always go down by the river when you want to think, and I've smelled bakemonotachi there. Besides..... I watch you sometimes." Ushio craned his head back to look up into the leaves above him; the monster was draped across a branch like a huge, carnivorous Cheshire Cat. Tora smirked down at the look on his face as the temple boy stared up; "You.... *watch* me? Why?" In reply his partner only shrugged. "Why not? You've got the Spear. I like knowing where it is....." and he looked slantwise down at the Kemono No Yari with his silver eyes. Ushio frowned; it irritated him to know that Tora had been near him without his knowing. Tora was watching him now, the great striped face patterned with leaf-shadow and flickers of sunlight. He looked almost peaceful, sprawled across the branch for all the world like an oversized housecat; his tail twitched gently, fur riffling across his back in the slight wind. Now seemed like a good time to ask the bakemono about the Spear......
"Uh, Tora. What you said earlier about what happens to Spearbearers...... What'd you mean?" He waited for the expected explosion.
It did not come. "That's what happens" said the bakemono matter-of-factly. "The Spear takes you for good. It happens a little at a time at first, then forever. That bastard Samurai was taken so." He growled a bit and flexed his claws at the memory of his former foe and Ushio's ancestor. "You didn't know? Stupid..... You belong to the Spear now anyway; the more you use it, the sooner it happens. I've been watching to see how long it would take-you lasted longer than the Samurai did." The monster chuckled nastily.
Ushio sat very still.
Taken-for good? Did he mean 'changed for good'? He did, didn't he? Sharp-toothed, slit-eyed and long-haired..... He didn't mind it while he fought; the tougher muscles and hide that went with that shape had saved his life many times; but--- that way, ALWAYS?!? No way! Shit, no way.....
Tora continued on. "I saw that you were getting close-- the Spear goes with you now, everywhere, even without touching. That's how it begins. I thought---" and he paused for a moment; "--- that you knew, and that.... when it happened.... we would fight again." A little of the bakemono's earlier bitterness crept back into his deep voice. "We are--- not-enemies now." The ancient monster could never quite seem to say 'friends'. He hissed softly. "I have fought the Spearbearer before and gotten the shit kicked out of me; I thought that would happen again." Now he looked down at Ushio. The temple boy saw the faint crackle of lightning around Tora's brow as he grew more agitated; was the bakemono actually that upset? "I-- do not want to spend five hundred years in the dark again." Now the lightning crackled more brightly and the monster leaped down from the branch to land heavily in front of the frozen boy. Tora snarled a little, shaking his mane from his face. "I would kill you first, Brat. If I could." He began to pace back and forth, his claws scoring the earth, lightning tracing blue patterns around him in the shivering air. The afternoon breeze now carried the scents of musk and ozone. "What will you do, Ushio-Brat, when the Spear takes you forever?"
Ushio shot to his feet, breathing hard and holding the Kemono No Yari crosswise before him. The peace of the afternoon was broken. He felt the familiar beginning rush of the Change-- and, for the first time: resisted it. The Spear fell with a clatter to the ground before him and he faced the monster down empty-handed. "Tora! I don't want to fight you, you idiot! Wait, wait..... You mean I'll stay - like I am when I fight - all the time? Hell, I don't want that!" The bakemono laughed harshly. "Who the fuck cares what you want?!? The SPEAR has you! Did you think you could play with lightning without being burned?" The air crackled and seethed around him; birds took flight in fright. Ushio realized he was shaking, and he slumped back against the wall behind him, eyes fixed on the weapon at his feet. Slowly he bent down to pick it up-- it felt the same, felt no different........ So why did it seem so heavy all of a sudden? He ran his fingers across the shaft and along the edged spearhead, and a sudden pain made him blink as a trickle of blood ran across his fingers from the resultant cut. Blood on his hands-there was always blood on his hands, bakemono blood..... He was a killer of monsters. Would being one make life any different?
Blindly he pushed past Tora and ran out the temple gate, heading anywhere, anywhere at all away from what he had heard. Behind him, a warm wind blew through the empty yard where the monster had paced. The birds settled back into the trees.
*************
At first, as the things that Tora had told him began to sink in, Ushio paid little attention to where he was walking..... Or, for that matter, the fact that he had taken the Kemono No Yari with him, after all. But that seemed so natural by now......
The slanting afternoon sunlight brought him little peace, but the sheer normalcy of the streets beyond the temple gate began to allow his heart and nerves to settle down a little; he began to think again. Panic wasn't going to help..... Ushio found that his steps had led towards a small park that he had been visiting since childhood, a good place to relax, and if there was anything he needed now....... But there was to be no respite; as if in answer to his thoughts, he felt a familiar weight settling not-quite-gently onto his shoulders as Tora's enormous claws gripped. Oddly enough, the temple boy felt a certain anxiety easing.... Without quite saying anything about it, the two mismatched partners had always considered moments like this to be automatic times of truce. Tora could have easily taken Ushio's head off in a single bite, and Ushio could have nearly as easily impaled the bakemono with the Spear-but somehow it just never became an issue.... He acknowledged his passenger's presence with a sigh and a silent adjustment of balance (fortunately, Tora only rested a fraction of his weight on his shoulders) and continued on into the park.
It seemed a little quieter than usual. Only a few children ran and screamed or splashed each other at the fountains, and the noise of the vendors selling okinomiyaki and other items was more subdued than seemed normal. Even Tora said nothing, resting quietly on his shoulders like a great furred thundercloud; he shifted faintly as they passed the takoyaki stall, and Ushio stopped to buy a double portion. He had learned long ago that Tora considered half his food to belong to the bakemono--- a substitute Ushio-snack, perhaps. His stomach growled at the scent of the fried octopus, and he sat for a few moments on a handy bench to eat his late lunch. An observant passer-by might've possibly noticed that the fried food seemed to vanish rather more quickly than one would have thought.....
Ushio could hear Tora crunching the last of the octopus-balls as he licked his own fingers. The simple, prosaic act of eating lunch had calmed him considerably, and he actually felt strangely grateful for the monster's company (not that he would tell this to Tora, of course). He glanced at his partner; the bakemono was watching the children running past with much the same expression that a hungry man might view a bowl of rice; it made Ushio a little nervous.... He cleared his throat, and said softly "Tora. There's something else I wanted to ask you about. Uhhhh.... I've been.... having some odd dreams lately---- " and he heard Tora's rather rude snigger ("....that'll make you go blind, you know...."); "--- not like that, you shithead!" He flushed; a bakemono was *not* the kind of companion to share adolescent hormonal male dreams with! "I mean..... I keep dreaming about..... Ahhhh, never mind. Let's just hunt." He just couldn't do it. The dreams were too hard to talk about. Restlessly he got to his feet and, Spear on his shoulder, trudged towards the nearby riverbank. A few parkgoers gave the weapon rather dubious looks, but at the sight of Ushio's set, grim young face, found other things to do than bother him. As he walked, the grass beside him shifted under the weight of something large and unseen that smelled vaguely of takoyaki.
Ushio kicked at a scrap of paper on the pavement before him; some kind of "lost child" notice..... There seemed to be a lot more of them around than usual, didn't there? Maybe that was why the park seemed so much quieter today. He glanced about: there on that wall, there was another one; and there, on that lamp-post, two of them.... And back behind him, on a vendor's stall, *four* notices.... He stopped for a moment. Huh. The missing children were all recent losses, and all from the river region. Frowning, he glanced at Tora. The bakemono looked restless and ill-at-ease, watching the water with the tips of his teeth just showing; he licked a last crumb of takoyaki away from his whiskers and moved quietly along the escarpment and away from the park. Ushio gripped the Spear more tightly and followed, and the two began doing what had come naturally: hunting.
*************
Tora sniffed at the sedge along the river and then lifted his head to catch the scents on the warm afternoon breeze; he wrinkled his striped face and growled softly. "Jin-ni Griin-tiith" he said aloud, forming the foreign words with some difficulty. "What?" said his preoccupied partner. "Jenny What?" Ushio nervously parted the weeds at the edge of the shore with the Spear's point. "That's that slimy thing we're hunting, stupid.... She's a yokai from the Green Isle and a child-eater; I wonder why? Maybe she just likes tender meat.... She likes to drown them first, and then she crunches them right up." The monster sighed wistfully, possibly at the memory of past tasty meals. A bit sickened, Ushio smacked him lightly upside the head with the Spear. "Pay attention, bakemono. She's been eating those missing children, then...." The temple boy had spent his early life playing along the riverbank; it was all too easy to imagine being yanked in and........ Urrrgh.
He shivered. "So why'd she grab me, then? I'm not a kid" he said, with all of a seventeen-year-old's hauteur. The monster snickered. "Who cares? Maybe you looked good. Maybe you were just convenient, sitting on that rock all alone..... Easy to snatch up and crunch." The bakemono smiled to himself, a terrible smile with sharp teeth in it. Hunting always brought out old memories of his man-eating days; Ushio wondered just *how* much he missed them.
"Tora..." he said experimentally; "Ummm, about those dreams I've been having---" and he hesitated again. "In them, I keep seeing this bakemono with black fur.... And sometimes, I---"; he stopped again.
".... And sometimes *you* are the bakemono, hmmmmmm?" said the monster softly.
Whoa. Full stop. He wavered to a halt knee-deep in riverweeds. "What the--- ? How the hell did you know *that*? Does this---- have anything to do with what you told me about the Spear?" He had been shying off from thinking too hard about the subject, and it didn't look like he could actually DO anything about it, anyway.....
The bakemono sighed, deep and rumbling; he glanced back over one shoulder, and Ushio could have sworn that he looked almost embarrassed. THAT was new. When Tora spoke, it was in an unusually quiet tone.
"I dream, sometimes..... Your dreams are too loud, Brat, and I dream them too. Or maybe you dream my dreams. I... don't know. Sometimes a bakemono's dreams are of things to come--- we do that, so to live..... I dreamed of a bakemono like myself, but with your scars." He bent his head to sniff at a clump of brush and driftwood; his eyes would not meet Ushio's.
"'..... That'll be white....'" said the temple boy, softly, remembering. He lifted his free hand to trace the ridge of scar on his forehead and shivered. "But I'm NOT a bakemono, Tora. Even--- if what you told me about the Spear--- happens, that won't make me----"
The monster cut him off with a curt gesture. "I know, I know, I know! Making a human into a bakemono is a difficult thing. You need death, lightning and blood.... Power, too. They were just dreams. Who can say what to make of dreams?!? I HATE them!" Ushio frowned, curious; "So how come you hate them? Most humans like to dream." He pushed through the weeds and stooped to check out a faint track in the river-mud; nothing, just a dog-print.
Tora growled: "I hate them because..... most of my dreams are bad." And the ancient bakemono moved on ahead, slipping through the brush like the ghost of a tiger.
*************
It was getting dark now. Several hours of fruitless hunting had resulted in nothing more than one hungry, frustrated teenager and an equally hungry, frustrated monster who had been taking his annoyance out on the local vegetation. Several trees once green and alive were now no more than smoking, lightning-scoured stumps. Ushio sat on his favorite stone, once more back in the clearing where he had fought the water-yokai. Ostensibly he was examining a soggy hole in his tennishoe, but his senses were focused on his surroundings, combing the clearing for sounds. Tora had slipped off to a perch in a convenient tree; it had taken quite a bit of hard arguing by the bakemono to persuade Ushio to act as bait, but there he was. Tora had said approvingly that he looked "nice and young and tasty", which did not help at *all*......
So far there had been nothing save the occasional fish-splash, the chirra-chirra of insects in the bushes, and the brief, squeaking scream of an unfortunate rabbit that had ventured too close to Tora's tree. Bored, Ushio sighed and drew a design in the dirt before him with the toe of his shoe. He added a few dots and squiggles with the butt of the Spear, and finally gave in: he knew what he was doing. He was trying (with little success) to Avoid Thinking About Things. Things like being permanently bonded with the Kemono No Yari; or maybe things like dreams, especially ones shared with monsters. He could, with some difficulty, handle imagining life as a long-haired, sharp-fanged, slit-pupiled almost-bakemono..... But that was about it. The dreams didn't even bear thinking of. But as for the other--- the obvious answer was to lay down the Spear forever.
And he couldn't do it. He knew he couldn't.
It wasn't that Tora might finally decide to make an Ushio-entrée out of his 'nice and young and tasty' body-it wasn't the excitement (though, he had to admit, there was something.... essential.... in that, something that his spirit thrived on). It was just--- the Spear WAS part of him now. Life without the hunt, the victory..... the kill.... Was unthinkable. Unlivable. He was Aotsuki Ushio the Bearer of the Beast Spear, and that was that.
That he killed living creatures and it bothered him so little was disturbing; shouldn't he feel more regret? Or even grief, that things died at his hand? Sometimes, lying in bed at night and aching from his wounds, he wondered what kind of darkness he had marked his soul with by having become a killer so young. He might be only seventeen, but he wasn't stupid. *We're always taught that killing is wrong* thought Ushio sadly, *and then we have to go and do it anyway.*
He looked down at the ground again and drew another line with the butt of the Spear. He and Tora had become so very good at what they did; when he had asked Tora why the monster was willing to hunt beside the Spearbearer, the bakemono had looked at him like he was brain-damaged and had said simply "Territory." Youkai and oni were territorial, Ushio knew that. More exotic creatures like Tora seemed to be less so, perhaps because they seldom felt like settling down in one place, unless they took a mate...... But Tora had a place, a 'territory' now. Who could say? Perhaps he felt that he had *earned* it with five hundred years of pain in the dark. But, oh, God forbid that he ever should decide to take a MATE-----
The very thought of little 'Toras' running around, eating the neighbors and (eventually) himself gave Ushio severe heartburn. Hurriedly he turned his thoughts to something else.... the quiet water lapping at the shore, the sleepy chirping of birds settling down for the night, the sweep of clouds above him. Faint thunder muttered a little distance away and the first camera-flash of sheet lightning glittered off of the wet rivergrass. Rain coming. He stretched his stiff back-it had been a very long day, and his eyes closed for a moment against another lightning-flash as his shoulders began to relax......
A quiet splash a little down the shoreline brought his attention back with a jerk: What was that? Eyes still closed, he strained to identify what he heard: the lapping of water, the slight rustling of weeds- whatever was making the sounds was getting closer. He gripped the Spear tightly: he was going to have to Change, and he knew it. This--- was probably the last time, too. *Goodbye, humanity* thought Ushio, as a wave of terror and regret washed through him..... Goodbye to so many things- to the life he was living, to school (how could he go back like that?), to the friends who knew an Aotsuki Ushio who was just another guy. Goodbye---
----- And then there was no more time for goodbyes, as green-skinned one-eyed death erupted from the dark river before him and leaped with a roar, claws extended for his throat!! Water splashed in all directions as Ushio brought the Spear around two-handed to block the leap, already feeling the rush of the Change coming on, like the slow advance of anesthesia but immeasurably swifter:
***cold sweep of fire dancing through his veins and burning gladly, oh at last! from crown to sole/knife-edged golden honing of tooth and muscle/night-eyed clarity of vision sharp as a slice of the moon/and fitting close as skin the aspect and attributes of the Spearbearer wrapping round, never letting go, never, ever..... ***
......and it was over now, over forever maybe. He could hear Tora's roar of fury ("BAKEYARO!!! My river, MY place!!! HRRRRAAAAAHHHHRRRR!!!") and his own anger ignited: Bitch, child-eating monster!! Ushio screamed his own battlecry into the face of the slimy water-hag that was now scrabbling for a hold past the haft of the Spear; she shrieked in return and got a clawed hand past his defenses, raking it across his cheek. With a shout of pain, the Spearbearer wheeled in place and shoved the creature hard! towards Tora, who was rushing through the air like doom personified. With outstretched claws and open jaws, the bakemono closed in--- the water-hag ducked, throwing herself backwards into Ushio with a splatter of slimy hair and cold, cold skin. Swearing, he lost his balance and, falling, raked the Spear's point upwards and across the naked back before him. The thing screamed again as greenish ichor bloomed across the wound; faster than a striking snake it spun about to rake painful claws down the length of Ushio's forearm, trading blood for blood. Two things struck the Spearbearer then: first, that while the hag was slower on land than in the water, she wasn't *that* much slower; and second, Tora and the hag-creature both as the bakemono plowed into her from behind!! With a profound SPLASH!! the three struggling beings struck far out into the dark waters--- and Ushio found himself in a very bad position......
Blackness, wet and cold, closed in on his vision; only another who has fallen into deep water at night can know how black..... Silver froth bubbled past, faint even to his vision; hot pain from his chest told him that the creature had landed at least one blow there! A momentary flash of clarity as he fought his way to the surface showed him Tora, leaping impossibly from one splashing surface to another in defiance of gravity as he slashed downwards..... Darkness closed over Ushio's head again as he was yanked downwards in a floating tangle of Spear and swirling hair--- he jabbed at a green flash of skin, only to be rewarded with another knife-edge of pain across his heart as the creature grabbed him with both hands.... *Shit, nothing to brace against--- I can't fight like this!* he thought, desperate for air; as if in answer, he felt himself torn from her grip by one of Tora's huge hands and ripped upwards to the surface to be flung into the air! Brief flight and confusion, THUD!!, and a blackness again, this time of pain, pain.......
....... and then he was aware again, conscious of his momentary unconsciousness; aware, and fighting to breath...... *Breathe, breathe,* he thought fiercely, choking; *what's wrong, what did she do to me, WHY can't I BREATHE?!?* Hot rivers of pain across his chest told his panicked mind part of the problem: the water-hag had hung on with claws embedded deeply, far too deeply when Tora had jerked him back. *God, no, it hurts--- I'm dying, I CAN'T BREATHE----*
Ushio coughed and choked on the fire that scorched his lungs; blood filled his mouth with a taste of hot copper, and he thrashed against the wet ground.... Tora was suddenly in his view, backlit against the sky like a vision of Hell with silver eyes flashing cat-luminous against his fierce face--- he seemed to be shouting something..... Ushio could see his mouth moving, teeth flashing white, but against the roaring in the Spearbearer's ears the words were lost. And everything else was narrowing in--- the sky, the blowing clouds above Tora, all of it beginning to fade into darkness, darkness.... In horror, Ushio fought the loss of awareness, his mind howling *No, I won't die, I WON'T DIE*, but even the pain was going now. He could still see the bakemono-- he could swear that there was a look of... anguish?... on his terrible, familiar face, as the monster threw back his head to scream unheard words at the blackening sky above. Lightning crackled all around them both, momentarily illuminating the clearing...... Everything was greying out, getting distant now--- only Tora, fire on his brow, seemed real.... Oh, GOD, he didn't want to die yet-
.......He was only seventeen...... But it was so dark..... there was only the lightning......
--- and then he saw Tora reach up with both bloody hands to claw the lightning down from the sky in a single shattering bolt!! and then bring one SHARP, wicked talon stabbing downwards like a sword--- *God, NO Tora, I'm not dead yet, don't eat me YET, wait!!-----* to plunge, crackling......
....... into the Spearbearer's heart........
*************
There are some pains too great for screams; the only mercy shown with this one was that it was brief, and soon ended.
*************
Waking. He was awake. Eyes closed, Ushio lay where he was, afraid to open those eyes...... afraid to see what lay before him. The pain was gone, and that was good, he could breath now..... long, deep breaths, tasting life in each one.
Life?
He had been DYING..... No doubt about that. And Tora had---- his mind shied away from that moment (*Tora had been going to eat you at last,* a little whisper said softly; *you were dying, after all...*), and he tried hazily to remember what his father the priest had taught him........ Uhhhhm. There was this guy, Enma-Dai, who would judge his soul and decide where he was to go..... He felt numb. Ushio was aware, distantly, that he should be terrified, horrified, he was DEAD--- wasn't he? But all he really felt was a profound relief that the pain and loss of breath were gone. He didn't hurt anymore; in fact, he felt good, actually kind of strange, but *really* good. Well..... That should be proof enough that he had actually died--- as far as he could tell, his chest had been torn open (*and Tora struck at me with bloody claws and lightning....... Don't think about that, not yet, it hurt too much*). No-one could live through that and just suddenly be OK, not like this. Oh God..... Being numb was better than being afraid, he thought; he could handle things if he just stayed numb.......
He wondered if Tora was still alive. He wondered if Tora had really......... No. *Open your eyes, idiot; face this instead. It hurts less.* And he opened his eyes.
Darkness, with rolling clouds above. Was he in Heaven? He felt cheated; he had always wondered what Enma-Dai looked like...... He was lying on his side with his head propped against something soft.
He shifted a little to lie on his back; where---? He could smell water, green things, and something salty-sweet--- so many scents they were overwhelming. THAT hadn't been in his dad's theology lessons-that Heaven smelled strong?!? His hair was in his eyes, thick and black-and long.... WHAT the hell? He was..... still in Spearbearer form? He lifted a hand to brush his hair back---- and froze:
His hand was black-furred and clawed.
*************
End of Chapter 2 of 5
7
