This is a shounen-ai story(boy/boy). So please don't flame me just because you did not read this warning. I would be happy to point out your stupidity if ever you did. Although, I don't think this will progress to lemon…(though I am not sure yet…will warn if ever that happens).
Please be patient with my Japanese stuff, I only learned basics. I am willing to be corrected.^_^
365 Days of Youkai Vacation A Soldier's DreamTonight was the last Onimiyutare festival. The demons alongside with the hanyous flung themselves into a wild hedonistic frenzy. Fireworks colored the night sky, shattering the rhythmic pounding of the drums.The Nihon country was not alone in their celebration as the cable broadcast aired the festivities overseas, under the different names but connoting to one event—the Dawning of the Demons. For 200 years, this feast was celebrated in commemoration of the End of the Great Battle and the start of the new race—that of the demons and the hanyous.
Daylight was slowly creeping into the black sky, yet the revelers paid no heed to the time. They continued to dance, to laugh and to make love, stretching the moments into the inevitable end. It was pathetic, for behind all this gaiety is the fear, anguish and misery that was settled deep into the hearts of the celebrants. Tonight after all was the last Onimiyutare festival..a year after this all would come to Nothing.
Kaito Hawara sat beside the gates of his home. His smile twitched in wry sarcasm at he stared at the colorful banners and flags of the street. There were drunken youkais sprawled on the street, too tipsy and tired to catch up with the parading crowd. He almost made a double take when he saw a child scramble across the street. For a second he thought it was a human. But as he narrowed his eyes, he can clearly focus on the features.
No, not human. He relented.
The child had cat slits on her eyes. Probably a hanyou. The youkai admonished himself of ever dreaming up false hopes. There were no longer humans. They have wiped the mortals out of the face of the earth. He reflected on those days. At the time of the Battle, he was an ambitious young youkai deeply driven by the ideals of a Purified World. Oh how he hated those weak mortals. His bloodlust and deadly skill exterminated a good deal of the human population. He was without mercy, and it earned him an awed respect from his peers and terror among humans and their youkai allies.
At the very young youkai age of 20, he had become the youngest high-ranking general ever to grace the history of military records. This only made him thirsty for blood and power. Not only had he dealt with his enemies but also his 'friends' who would not hesitate to stab him if ever he turns his back for a moment.
For four decades, the world was plunged into darkness and carnage, pulling him into its very heart.
And in the end the Battle was finished.
It did not cease like a loud cry of victory or of demonic soldiers marching triumphantly over their new dominion of this earth. It happened when a human child, wounded and bloodied all over, crawled up into them middle of the battlefield and died. He was there when it happened. He saw the accusing stares of the youkai allies boring at them, as they threw down their weapons. There were no more battles, there were no more humans to fight or defend. The last child of Man, was there, in front of them, like a sacrificial lamb offered in the war-ravaged altar of the battlefield.
This was glory.
How this image burned into the youkai's mind. It did not go away when they killed the allies in that field. It did not vanish when he was presented with a medal of bravery, and honorably discharged upon his request nor did it fade, every night, as it haunted him in his dreams.
Someone called his name.
It was Chikaku. His old trusted companion waved at him, beckoning him to go back to the house. Chikaku was dressed in a monk's outfit and was doing a very good impression of a Drunken Shaolin.
"General!" The inebriated youkai drawled", we are in dire need of reinforcements. Amakuza has come and looks like your loyal retainers cannot keep up with his libido. You must come quick or we would not have enough people to make up an orgy."
Kaito chuckled in spite of his intentions to appear unaffected. He had to hand it to his second in command for strategic planning—not only in the field but also in social events. Chikaku was one hell of a party coordinator. Who would have thought of coming up of something like a Warring States Theme for a costume party in lieu with Kaito's old shrine residence?
" Will be there in a moment Chikaku. For the meantime, please tie up Amakuza---"
"Ohh.. bondage! Damn why did I not think of that…" the youkai monk muttered and ran off to the direction of the house.
Kaito could only shake his head. How sake could affect ones mental faculties was beyond him. He stood up, a little tipsy, and began to look for a place where no one could disturb him. He had worn a samurai clothing and even had his old katana, tucked in his belt. It had been a long time when he had drawn it from his sheath and he hoped he would never draw from it again.
He found his sanctuary near the well. It was dark yet he could still see with his nocturnal eyes. The place was cool and it offered him solace, as he would stare up the stars.
The first time he had come to this place, it was old and musty. He had just come out from the service and was looking for a place to settle. The estate broker launched a promising possibility behind this godforsaken wreck and in the end what made him take the offer was not because of the legend of so and so that happened to previously occupy the area, nor the antiquity of the house ( if you call rotting wood an antiquity), but for this simple well.
Kaito was a good judge of value and although he can't figure it out yet, he felt something about the well and the place that he worked to repair and renovate some parts of this area for him to live here for the rest of life.
It was nearly dawn and he could feel the hangover of the sake drumming into his brain. He slowly stood up and leaned against the well, when a sharp object bit his back. Reflexively, he groped for the thing and pulled it out of the well's surface. It was a shard of glass, yet as he looked deeper, he could feel an aura radiating like its light. He sat on the edge of the well, looking mesmerized for a moment as its soft glow played with the ache of his throbbing head. His hand tried to lean on the other side of the well, but badly miscalculating the distance, he had only grasped empty space. He lost his balance and hit his head on the ledge before falling deep into the well.
