If You Need Her
by Scribe Figaro
SESSION FIVE: GO HOME
III.
And I wanted to believe
That I'd get caught up
When the rage in me subsides."
- Sarah McLachlan, "Silence (Delerium)"
The neko-youkai purred as the woman's fingers brushed her fur. In another place, on another woman's lap, the firecat would have long ago gone searching for her mistress. But Kirara's well-tuned senses, forged through generations of fighting alongside humans, saw through the guise of the old woman. She held great power within her, and great wisdom as well. But what made Kirara feel safe, and feel her mistress and the houshi were safe, was the aura of this place, its power, and the understanding that no creature with evil in its heart would be able to stand here for very long, and would certainly not be able to serve as its steward.
But why, then, was the old woman here? Why were her mistress and the houshi led here?
Kirara's ears pricked. Someone was coming. Hopefully, her curiosity – a trait shared by neko and neko-youkai alike – might be satisfied by this new visitor.
"Sukui-chan," the old woman called, smiling as a much younger woman stood in the entryway.
"Miko-dono" she replied. "It's been a long time."
Through the slit of one eye, Kirara studied the newcomer, who wore a colorful kosode and a light traveling cloth wrapped around her waist, a style of dress not unlike her mistress.
"You look starved, dear. Please, take some soup."
The woman bowed with thanks and quickly took a bowl from the corner of the hut, spooning into it the contents of a covered pot by the fire.
"The houshi found his companions," Sukui said. "I followed him for three days, and as soon as I could, I returned here."
"It is too bad you don't have a firecat such as this one, Sukui-chan. The houshi and taiji-ya have already come here, and are conducting the ritual as we speak."
"Ah," Sukui said, eyes downcast. "I apologize, then, since I have nothing but old news for you."
"It is I who should apologize, for making you travel so hard. But the thing I truly wanted you to do – to make sure the houshi did not lose his way, or come to harm – that is done, and I thank you."
Sukui nodded.
"Though, I do resent you taking certain matters into your own hands, Sukui-chan."
The girl blushed.
"I . . . don't know what you mean . . ."
"The Gods know all, Sukui-chan, and I daresay a few days ago, they had some choice words for me, for allowing my servant to deviate from the plan they so carefully constructed. Something about a 'beautiful, boyish face,' if I recall correctly. Does that mean anything to you?"
Sukui set down the bowl and kneeled opposite the woman. "Well, you see . . . since it was necessary to make sure he was the right man . . . it made sense to test him, you see . . . to make sure his loyalty to the taiji-ya was strong enough . . ."
Kirara noted that Sukui spoke in much the same manner the houshi did after he did something to offend her mistress and attempted to explain himself. The old woman ceased her petting again, for only a moment, so that her annoyance would register with her visitor, and then spoke no more of it.
"Whatever the case, I am glad you did nothing else foolish. What is to occur today was a plan that has taken two hundred and fifty years to come to fruition. To fail at the very last instant would have been worlds beyond tragic."
Sukui's face brightened in realization. "Then, everything has gone as planned?"
The old woman smiled. "To some extent. The dai-youkai went beyond his duties, and instructed his servant to attempt battle with Asesu, a battle I surmise is happening at this very instant. He will not succeed, of course, but rather than interfering with our plans, he will assist them, by delaying Asesu, and putting him off his guard. The time for Asesu to meet a proper adversary is come, and this time, he will most certainly die."
"Are you certain the houshi can succeed?"
The woman laughed.
"The houshi? No, dear, his role was merely to bring the warrior to the Ametsuchi no Reisen. Now that he has completed his part in the ritual of Izanagi and Izanami, the houshi's role in all this is done."
The old woman finally lifted both hands from Kirara's fur, picked up the neko-youkai in both hands, and held her just before her face.
"Speaking of which, little one, I think the both of them are ready by now. Go now. Your mistress awaits."
Kirara mewed softly and leapt to the floor. She stepped to the door, turned to see both the women following at a fair distance, and then raced along the thin line of her mistress's scent that led through the woods before her.
The huntress crouched in the same spot where she had awoken, completely motionless, barely breathing. It was very disorienting, to be brought here, and though she had awoken a few moments ago on the stone floor, she had still not quite retrieved her bearings.
She was alive. That in itself was very strange.
What was less strange was the fact that she was in what appeared to be a dry well some ten meters in diameter and perhaps twice as deep. The floor appeared bone-dry, and though the walls were clean of moss or slime, the stones were set so close together that the walls were clearly unscaleable.
The huntress might have made a try in searching through her clothes for a good length of rope, but this was impossible, as she was quite naked. This, she decided, was more strange than being in a well, and the combination of being naked and being in a dry well was rather upsetting.
Strangest of all, of course, was the man that had been lying beside her, whose presence had sent her leaping away in a defensive crouch, and whose body was likewise naked.
Had she a rock, she would probably have given him a few good blows in the head, but there was not a single loose stone to be found. In any case, as she sat there, the sharp fear of rape, the threat of rape, the belief of having been raped, began to subside, and the realization came that he was in the same predicament as her, that he was not an assailant, but a victim of whatever had placed them here. He had no weapon, and though he appeared strong, she did not think he could overpower her. Further, the serene expression on his sleeping face led her to believe he was not a threat.
Still, she would have liked to have a rock handy, just in case.
She was still contemplating the rock situation, and what she might do when the man awoke, when the firecat came, falling from above, and landing softly beside her.
She was startled by its appearance, but the two-tailed neko-youkai immediately comforted her.
"Kongou," she whispered. "Kongou, where is your mistress?"
The firecat's expression changed from hopeful to frightened by this question, and she took one step backward, cocking her head to one side.
"My sister, Kongou. Where is Midoriko-onee-sama?"
She had been so familiar with Kongou, her sister's beloved partner, the firecat that had been at her sister's last battle in the demon cave, the firecat that had summarily disappeared and was never seen again, that seeing the animal had made her forget about her sister's fate.
Now she remembered Midoriko's semi-death, the creation of the Shikon no Tama, the destruction of her village, the many years she lived, the fortress her people built to protect the cave and its treasure, the appearance of the shinobi clan that intermarried within their small village of warrior-priests and priestesses. She remembered her husband, the children she bore, the battles she bled in, the scars she carried, the old ways dying and the new ways being born.
She remembered dying, dying of cursed old age, and before her death, she remembered the name given to her people by those who sought their assistance.
They called them youkai taiji-ya.
"Her name is Kirara," called a voice above her.
She looked up now, seeing two women standing at the edge of the well, one not far out of her teenage years, the other seventy years old or more.
"You've been called back, Tsukiyo-sama. The gods demand your assistance." The old woman smiled. "I, lowly priestess that I am, humbly beg it. A demon unlike any other has appeared, and its defeat requires a skill whose technique has been lost for many centuries."
The woman in the well was so startled that she made no attempt to cover herself, though she did place a hand over her heart.
"The trapping of a soul . . . as Midoriko-onee-sama had once done . . ."
"It is much to ask, I know, Tsukiyo-sama. I have brought together a young couple – a man of great spiritual power, and your own descendant, a taiji-ya of great skill, and they have completed the ritual of Izanagi and Izanami in the Miraculous Spring of Heaven and Earth. They've called forth your soul from its rest, allowing you to briefly live within the taiji-ya. Already you have been put through much, and to ask you to sacrifice your soul to capture a demon . . . it is something I cannot force you to do, nor even ask forgiveness for asking you to submit to."
The old woman clasped her hands together in frustration.
"This body," the huntress ventured, holding her hands before her. "She is my descendant?"
"Her name is Sango. She is one of very few taiji-ya alive at this time, but if that man beside you lives long enough for it, she will not be the last."
The huntress turned toward the still-sleeping form. It was a good thing, after all, that she could not find a rock. She smiled briefly, realizing that he didn't look all that different from her husband, now that she thought of it.
The huntress turned back toward the woman above her.
"This creature I am asked to defeat," she asked. "He has hurt them somehow?"
"Both of them, Tsukiyo-sama. Very severely."
She clenched her fists.
"That is enough for me. I will do this thing you ask."
The old woman smiled.
Author's Note: Sukui was introduced in Chapter Three.
I'm still working on some last-minute changes to the next two chapters, but I hope to have them settled within a few days.