Chapter 51
A Bit of Advice
Why?
Alastor paced near the back of the temple, his radio static making all the patients in the main room rightfully nervous. He had so many questions for the dragoness, and they would likely not get a timely answer. Why was she in the North Point? Why didn't she tell him about this? If he made her feel abandoned, why did she still save him? Why did she feel safe enough to be alone with that healer, but was afraid to find herself alone with him?
And aside from that last question, why didn't he ask them when he had the chance?!
Perhaps his reaction to the contract rattled her more than he intended. He wanted her to think of the dangers of Hell, and of how much safer she would be under his care. Not that she flat-out refused to sign, of course. She just said that if she did, their friendship would be at an end, and he wanted her to change her mind. At the time, he thought his intentions were obvious, but as it turns out they were anything but. It was his choice whether to keep her soul or her friendship, and as she saw it, he walked out on both. That hadn't been what he wanted at all, and now he had to convince her of that while also biting his tongue whenever his frustration bubbled to the surface. At this rate, his temper was going to ruin everything!
Then there was the idea that killing her was his best solution, and his pacing stopped as he finally reflected on it. Death had always been an answer to confusing problems, but for the first time he regretted ever even considering it. Even if he didn't want to, he would have done it if it meant his safety, and he would have made himself the plaything of that wretched spider demoness.
He snarled at his own foolishness. Why was he messing everything up? Why was it so easy to give in to his anger with her? Why couldn't he just use his charm on her like every other woman? He's already seen the effects his flirting could have; why didn't he just use that? Blast it all, it would have been so easy, but instead he keeps feeling… things. Things he didn't understand, and they unnerved him to the point of running his mouth off when he should have thought first. Normally his sharp tongue was something he took pride in, but it only seemed to keep making things worse, and it nearly did it again just a few moments ago!
When the golden fox appeared with food, he watched him closely. If he was correct, Eliza would return to her normal form very soon, and then they could finally fix her up properly. Honestly, he wanted to carry her out the moment they were finished; he could not wait to remove himself from this entire unpleasant experience. After all, she could rest on the drive back to the hotel, although he would also have to collect his war-cat, who would likely be three sheets to the wind by the time they were finished here.
Oddly enough, the thought of putting her in the back seat with that drunk made him uncomfortable, even if he was fairly certain that the veteran wouldn't try anything. He would be too far gone to put behind the wheel, and Alastor didn't feel like driving either. Normally it wouldn't be a problem; he would ride up front with his shadow while Husk would be sprawled across the back seat in a stupor. But if he put Husk up front, then he would be riding in the back with her. Somehow, that didn't sound much better, given the situation.
When he heard a commotion in the back, his head snapped to the side as his static grew louder. While his shadow didn't seem to be returning yet, he couldn't help but wonder what that was all about. He heard the healer arguing in Japanese with his temperamental assistant, but it quickly died down as he heard a door slide shut. Hopefully that meant that progress was being made.
Feeling antsy, he walked further to the side until he reached a window. Outside was a rather well-kept garden, though a bit sparse for his taste. The uneven ground made him think of rolling hills, and it was covered in a vibrant, mossy grass. Large rocks were placed seemingly at random, and a path wound through the space rather smoothly, as if moving with the land. It was… calming.
Then a thought that's been haunting him resurfaced for a moment; what if he's going about this the wrong way? But what other way should he do this? The contract fell through; he couldn't accept that clause of hers. No matter what, he would not let her sign it as it is. But somehow, he'd given her the impression that the friendship didn't interest him, and he couldn't for the life of him understand it. Has he not treated her well up until this point? Was it so wrong for his temper to show when presented with rejection? And why did she immediately assume that he's been building up to this all along? Granted his reputation was a condemning factor in that regard, but surely anyone could see that this was different, right?
He held his head as a headache began to blossom. Why was this so hard for her to grasp? Why did belonging to him offend her so? Why did he need to choose between security and friendship? Why was she so hard for him to understand?
Why?!
His shadow returned at last, and his entire body stiffened as the memory began with approaching Eliza's naked body. Fighting hard to move past that image, he took a moment to linger on the woman's wounds. There were likely a few broken ribs, but as he watched the healers stitch them shut from a distance, he felt more secure about bringing her back early. Now that he saw the healer working, he noticed something he didn't show for the other injured; concern, as well as gentleness. Perhaps Alastor knew who this man was, after all. And maybe if he could bring himself to stomach this place a little longer, he could learn something before returning home.
Calling forth a couple other shadows, he told them, "Go and find my good friend Husker; I do believe we should be able to leave shortly. Oh, and also…" Summoning a large wad of bills, he handed it to the shades with a broad grin. "…for his tab. I doubt he's had time to buy much though. If there's any money left over, stock him up for the trip back."
When they vanished into the void to hunt the veteran down, he noticed a very grating presence watching him a few feet away. After a moment, Ayuka made her way over to the pompous deer, who was giving her a side-long smirk. At first, he expected to be told off; in many ways, dealing with this woman felt like spending time with Vagatha, which made her quite easy to push around. Instead, she simply sighed. "She is cared for, but Hari has stayed to speak with her."
"Oh?" he said, leering over her. "And how will he do that while she is unconscious, I wonder?"
Her eyes widened as she flashed her fangs. "You were spying?!"
"But of course," he grinned, sounding as if it should have been obvious. "It's rather presumptuous to think I would trust you to care for my companion without my careful oversight!" When she took a step forward with a furious expression, the air around them distorted and warped as red dials glared down at her in warning. "Keep your distance, my dear. While normally entertaining, my patience for your temper is waning."
"I have dealt with greater threats than you," she told him, though she halted her advance as she felt rather uncertain.
"I doubt that." When his right hand reached out, claws extended, she took a large step back as her spider legs burst forth and wrapped around her as a protective cage. The demonic visage dropped away as the overlord looked down his nose at her. "That's better."
Ayuka realized at that moment that she probably should have known that the man was stronger than he appeared. She's met plenty of men that talk big, but even with the help of that dragon girl, it takes a strong soul to survive her mother. He's very easy to underestimate when not on display; he looked like a well-dressed twig. "Do you use that display with everyone?"
"Only those that irritate me," he stated smugly. When she glared at him, he scoffed. "Don't look so offended, sweetheart; it's not like you put in any effort to be kind in the first place."
"You threatened me the moment we met," she reminded him, dismissing her spider legs as she folded her arms.
"Fair enough," he conceded. "Though you can hardly blame me; your mother certainly sets the bar low as far as expectations are concerned."
In spite of herself, she let out an exasperated huff. "Yes she does, doesn't she?"
"Since we have a moment," Alastor began in a more upbeat tone, "perhaps you could enlighten me. These 'Sisters of Pleasure'... you seem fairly certain that they will make your mother miserable. Why?"
"Mother has always been prideful," Ayuka informed him, her tone dripping with enmity. "The Sisters of Pleasure are a group of Yokai who share similar purpose. Nikusui, Hinoenma and Harionago all decided to join forces in order to bolster their strength as a unified clan, as their specialties are in seduction. Mother… rejected the unity, and in openly insulting ways. One messenger was sent back to the Sisters only to burst upon arrival because she had been filled with egg-sacks."
"A clever insult indeed!" Alastor praised, causing Ayuka to glare at him once again. "To say that your only use to me is to carry and feed my children… How brutal!"
"It was uncalled for!" Ayuka argued, angrily. "Mother's greatest chance at power was to join them, and she wasted it on prideful indulgence."
"Not everyone plays well with others," Alastor told her matter-of-factly. "Some prefer to stand on their own. Is that truly so wrong?"
"Says the one who has to sacrifice his underlings to survive," she hissed.
"Watch your tongue," he warned.
"Oh, just kiss already."
Both turned sharply as Hari slowly made his way out of the back hallway. "Hari!" Ayuka greeted in surprise, turning red but deciding to ignore his comment. "I… see you didn't take long."
"I tried talking to her, but she's barely coherent," he informed them. "I figured it would be better to let her rest."
"I'm sorry," his assistant comforted, walking up to him and touching his arm. Glaring sidelong at the overlord's smug, crescent grin, she gave Hari's arm a comforting squeeze. /Do you need anything?/
/Yea, two pillows/ he said, looking down at her cleavage with no trace of shame. /Maybe in a few minutes?/
She scowled, though it was far from her harsh countenance from before. /You still have work to finish, sir! You know the rules./
/You're a devil, woman,/ he grumbled, tiredly.
Leaning in, she whispered into his ear, /But I'm your devil./
He shivered as she nibbled the base of his ear, and she held his gaze until she was a few steps away, heading to the leftover patients that were avoiding their area at all cost for fear of angering the red-clad foreigner. When Hari turned back to Alastor, he noticed the wendigo's eyes looked distant, as though he was disturbed but also deeply confused about something. "Not used to things like that, I take it?"
"It is perplexing, to say the least," he answered. "What in Hell could you possibly get from something like that?"
"Excited," the healer answered, easily.
While he had hoped to at least annoy the wendigo with that statement, the red-clad deer simply tilted his head in contemplation, his claw pressed into his cheek. "How odd."
Sighing at the disappointingly bland reaction, Hari pulled out his pipe from earlier, considering the wisdom of taking a draw. "Is there really no way you'll let Elizabeth stay?"
"Elizabeth?" Alastor asked, his tone strangely coy. "I've only ever heard her introduce herself with that name once; everyone else calls her Eliza."
"Don't read into it," Hari warned, not having meant to let that slip. Damn it, this emotional bullshit is making it difficult to focus.
"And why not?" the overlord prodded. "Would it ruin your reputation for others to know you once were a child's caretaker?" Hari actually recoiled slightly in surprise, and the reaction was deeply gratifying. "So that's why you're so protective of her! And here I thought you just hated me."
Realizing he just sold himself out, Hari gave the man an exhausted glare, though it was rather half-hearted. "So, Eliza talks about me. Should I assume the worst, or..?"
"Hm…" Alastor hummed, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I don't think I'll tell you. Letting you stew in suspicion sounds far more entertaining!" Appraising the man as he shifted in uncomfortable silence, Alastor couldn't help but wonder at the therapist's rather complementary view of him. He was lazy and unrepentantly rude, but also rather shrewd and capable of being rather threatening when moved enough to care. If he was an improvement upon her blood relations, then that raised many more questions in his mind. But if he asked this man to fill in the blanks in Eliza's stead, would that just make her angry?
Even unconscious, she complicates things! It really was a special talent of hers. Decisions, decisions…
"Well," Hari began, using a tone that suggested that the wendigo might become very unhappy very quickly, "since we're being open and shit, I'll just say it; you two had a falling out, didn't you?"
Unlike the fox, Alastor was more than capable of biting back the urge to react, though at that moment he envied how easy Eliza made it look. "And what makes you say that?"
"You think I'm blind?" the fox asked, raising an eyebrow in an almost accusatory manner. "You definitely didn't take being dismissed well, and every time she talked to you she sounded tense as hell. Trust me, I've seen her when she's on good terms with someone. You two have more tension than a bondage rope on a Nuppeppō."
Decisively moving past a comparison he did not want explained, he simply gripped his cane a bit more tightly. "That is nothing that concerns you, caretaker."
When the healer merely started laughing at him, Alastor reconsidered letting him live. "Damn, she sure knows how to pick them, doesn't she?" Shaking his head, he looked back up at the overlord, surprisingly unmoved by the man's bright red eyes and distorted voice. In a lot of ways, the overlord reminded him of himself. Maybe a bit of advice could stop him from making the same mistakes; at least for her sake. Perhaps it would end the vicious cycle of her life. "Be honest."
Tilting his head, Alastor wasn't sure if he should be angry or curious. "I beg your pardon?"
"With her, I mean," Hari explained. "She's slow to forgive, but you've got a better shot with her if you make everything clear. Don't hold back with her; it doesn't end well."
"Speaking from experience?" the wendigo tormented with a smirk.
"It'll be your experience too if you don't fix it soon," the fox retorted, coldly. "When you're not honest with her, then she's not honest with you. Fix it now, or you can kiss whatever strange relationship you have with her goodbye."
Blinking in surprise, Alastor let the healer's words sink in for a moment. Honesty… that was a difficult concept for him. Granted there were plenty of times where lying was simply not required to achieve his goals, but when it came to things like this, total openness was far more intimidating than he cared to admit. "You say it like it's a simple matter, yet you don't sound like you're on the best of terms with her, either. If honesty is the answer, then what went so horribly wrong in life, hm?"
"Simple; I figured it out too late," the fox growled, his ears falling to the sides. "Things would have been so different for her if I hadn't been so focused on doing my damn job."
"Being a babysitter?" Alastor asked, genuinely confused.
"Being a fucking snitch."
The wendigo's ears perked. "Oh?"
Unwilling to deal with the emotional baggage anymore, he finally sighed and took a long draw from his pipe, the opium hitting his system harder than it has for a long time. "Look, when you leave, you better be fucking careful with her; she's going to hurt for a long time and she doesn't need you making it worse by being careless."
Holding back a snarl, he stated quite confidently, "I assure you I have no intention of harming her."
Unable to really get angry as the opium settled, he gave a lazy warning instead. "You better not. She's had enough pain in her life."
Realizing that the healer was entering a vulnerable state, he knew this was his shot, and at the risk of angering the dragoness, he decided to take it. "What kind of pain?"
"Well, we confirmed there was no sexual abuse, but there was something else going on. The mother was an abusive bitch, but the father… There was something wrong there, but I never got a chance to figure that shit out. Only met him once. Manipulative bastard."
"I see," Alastor mused, quietly. He couldn't deny being surprised; he rarely heard of the mother being the abuser, at least in his time. He wondered if it was a sign of change, or if it's always been there and he simply never noticed. "And it's beyond a shadow of a doubt that the father was involved in Eliza's miserable youth?"
"What kind of man encourages his abusive wife to take their only child overseas? Alone?"
Alastor's claws flexed as the urge to hunt briefly surfaced. "A guilty one."
"Exactly."
A commotion at the front door stole their attention away from the topic at hand, and they heard Ayuka give a frustrated scream as she dragged a familiar looking sinner to the back, throwing him at Alastor's feet. "Those… creatures you sent out returned and dropped this onto the temple floor!"
"Ah, Husker my friend!" he greeted, cheerfully grabbing him by the scruff and dusting him off as the cat growled in response. "Good to see you've been found!"
"Put me down, asshole!" he snarled, taking a wild swipe at the man and missing. After another failed attempt, he pointed a claw at a fuming Ayuka. "And what's with the crazy bitch?"
"I'm right here!" she hissed indignantly.
"We're aware," Alastor told her with that maddening grin. "She has aided in Eliza's recovery, and now we can finally leave this dreadful place!"
"And my booze?" Husk interrogated, crossing his arms.
"You will be drowning in it once we return, I assure you," the wendigo promised, releasing his grip and dropping the veteran on his ass before folding his hands behind his back. "While the conversation was most enlightening, we'll be off now."
"Do you have any clothes for her?" Hari asked, suddenly.
Alastor froze when he realized he forgot about that. "She wasn't brought with any?" he asked nervously.
"Nope, birthday suit only," the healer told him with a smirk. "Are you telling me you don't have anything for her?"
Turning rather pale, he turned sharply to Husk. "Do you know what became of Eliza's attire?"
Scratching his head as he struggled past the alcohol to remember, Husk finally answered, "Uh, I think they're still at the bathhouse. Or under it. Can't remember. I used her shit to grab Olly and run for it. Don't remember what happened after that." Pointing to his roughly patched wing, he continued, "You know, after getting stabbed and mauled and shit."
"...Ah." Clearing his throat, the wendigo gripped his microphone as he turned to Ayuka, who looked rather unimpressed by this oversight. "By chance, does the temple have anything for sale? I am fully capable of paying for it."
"We don't sell clothing of any sort here," Ayuka informed him, flatly. "Although I suppose she could borrow one of my robes for the time being. It might do her some good to keep her shoulders and chest exposed anyway, since she can't quite fill out my size."
When the overlord visibly shuddered at the thought, his pupils briefly replaced with flat lines, they both blinked at him in surprise. Hari leaned in towards Husk and asked, "Is he shy about showing skin?"
"He's the most prudish virgin in Hell," Husk answered. "Why?"
Hearing his answer, Ayuka shared a smirk with Hari that made the wendigo quite nervous. "Well, if you want something that fits her better, there is a place nearby. Would you like to go there?"
Taking a silent gulp, Alastor turned to Husk to tell him to go when he saw the veteran being guided away by Hari, who was chatting away as he recruited the cat to assist him in Ayuka's stead. Alastor's teeth started grinding in irritation as the assistant walked up uncomfortably close to him, seeming to hold up her breasts for display. She smiled wickedly when he took a step back, looking away in embarrassment and discomfort. "Well, we certainly shouldn't waste any time, correct? After all, you seemed so ready to leave a moment ago!"
Oh, they were good at this. Straightening out the front of his suit, he glared spitefully down his nose at her. "Very well, take me there so that we can get this over with."
As the two of them made their way out of the temple, Husk turned to Hari and raised an oversized eyebrow. "So, about that booze you mentioned…"
Already two steps ahead of him, the healer poured some into a small cup and handed it to the cat, who downed it quickly. "One for every patient treated. Deal?"
"Let's patch these bastards up!" Husk agreed with a wicked grin. All the patients started to inch away from the pair as they looked over the crowd with mischievous smiles. Hari wanted to finish all this before Ayuka returned; he really wanted his favorite pillows.
As soon as Alastor entered the nearby establishment, his face flushed bright red as he turned away. Ayuka felt nothing short of proud to see him so flustered. "Here we are," she told him, smugly, "feel free to browse!"
"This is a brothel!" he hissed accusingly, avoiding looking at the posing foxes in loose and translucent robes, kimonos and lingerie.
"It is no such thing!" she denied in mock offense, enjoying every moment of his struggle. "It is the only store close by that sells clothing; these Kitsune are some of the finest models we have! Don't insult them. Take a close look; your friend would look lovely in most everything here."
"I will have you know that Eliza prefers modest attire," he defended, angrily.
"Oh?" Ayuka tilted her head curiously. "Is she as prudish as you are?"
Memories of an unfazed, naked Eliza stepping out of her bathroom made him stutter. "I, w-well… n-no, not- not exactly, no."
"Then stop whining and get to it!" Ayuka told him, snapping in his direction before pointing into the building.
When one of the models walked up to him with a robe hanging off her shoulders and the tops of her breasts exposed, he bristled and leaned back slightly. Taking a moment to appraise him, she then turned to Ayuka and the two spoke briefly in Japanese before the woman bowed, causing him to turn sharply away lest he see more than he wished to from that far-too-low cut kimono.
"We will help," she offered in a polite tone. "This way, sir."
"What did you tell her?" he growled at the assistant.
"Rough measurements to help find something that will fit your friend," she answered, making Alastor's shoulders relax slightly.
"Ah! Very well, then. I… suppose I'll look."
Much to his surprise and great relief, the women kept a polite distance as they led him around, bringing out options and presenting them to him, thankfully not on their bodies. Admittedly, in some ways this felt more like a dress shop. The clothes were well-made and airy, some cut in revealing ways while the more modest ones were made of a soft, translucent material that felt rather luxurious. As he became slightly more comfortable, he decided that instead of treating this as an unpleasant but necessary excursion, he would take this as an opportunity. After all, he never got her a gift for the holiday because of everything going on between them. That, and he wasn't really sure what to get a woman like her. Still, he had a reputation among his inner circle to uphold.
The Radio Demon doesn't do cheap gifts!
"Are these your best?" he asked, turning up his nose at their stock. "If so, I think I'll just take her back to Rosie's Emporium as she is! Her quality is simply unrivaled; even here, by the looks of things."
The fox that first approached him narrowed her eyes and gave him a grin full of sharp, finely pointed teeth. "No, sir. We have better!"
Moving.
Eliza wasn't sure where she was, but she knew she was moving. Someone had laid her down over the back seat of a car, and the sound of the engine was a soft lull in her ears. Her body ached as she fought to lift her head, her eyes nothing more than narrow slits with blurred vision.
Shifting her gaze, she tried to focus on something red in the front seat. After a moment, her vision became a bit clearer, and she realized that Alastor was sitting in the front passenger seat, gazing blankly out the front window while his head rested on his knuckles.
He looked… older, somehow. Not to mention unfathomably tired.
"Alastor?" she rasped, trying to roll onto her side before cringing from a sudden, stabbing pain in her ribs.
The wendigo snapped out of his dozing and turned to look at her, his trademark grin pulled a bit tight over his face. "Ah, good evening, my dear! And here I thought you'd sleep all the way back to the hotel!"
"Oh… so we're almost back?" she asked, looking down slightly.
Alastor raised an eyebrow. "Don't sound so disappointed! After all, it's best for you to recuperate in your own bed, is it not?"
"...Of course."
The wendigo paused for a moment. "Is something troubling you? If you're upset that you couldn't speak more with your old caretaker, fear not! There are many forms of long-distance communication nowadays!" Pulling his lip back, he added under his breath, "Some are more dignified than others, of course."
"He told you who he was?" she asked, rather surprised.
"I figured it out on my own," he boasted with a smirk. "You did tell the entire hotel you had a caretaker once, and Husk saw fit to inform me of the name's origin." After another span of silence, he asked, "Is there something else?"
'Aside from missing the stupid festival?' Id snapped in the back of her mind. 'No, not a fucking thing.'
"No, I'm just… tired," she lied, feeling too emotionally spent to waste time trying to explain to him that she was there for reasons that didn't revolve around him. When she moved to stretch, she cringed when she felt a sharp pain in her ribs. Reflexively, her hand went to the area of pain, and she blinked as she felt something. Specifically, something that wasn't her scales. Looking down in surprise, she saw that she was actually dressed… sort of.
She was wearing, hands down, the most luxurious robe she's ever seen.
Running her hand down the fabric, her eyes were shining as she took it in. It was light enough that she didn't feel like she might overheat, she could see her form under the translucent material, and it was silky to the touch. The fabric seemed to be a pale pink, but when she ran her hand over it, the colors shifted to a blue-green before slowly changing back.
"Alastor, what is this?" she asked, breathlessly.
"Do you like it?" he asked, watching her cautiously.
"It's beautiful!"
His grin broadened. "Excellent! I thought you might. Although I must confess I have some… unpleasant news regarding your other outfit."
Her head snapped to the side as she met his gaze. "What happened to my clothes?"
"The bathhouse is a crumpled heap of shattered tile and splintered wood," he informed her proudly. Then, in a less boisterous tone, he added, "Unfortunately, what I didn't realize was that it also probably destroyed your clothes in the process, and they couldn't be retrieved."
"So, this robe… does it need to be returned?"
"Not at all! Think of it as a belated holiday gift, as well as something of an apology."
Well, looks like she's back to one outfit again. Maybe she could get Fizz to take her clothes to the laundry room for her; it probably wouldn't do well to walk through the halls in a sheet like she used to now that there were more guests at the hotel. She could also ask if Angel knew of any cheap clothing stores around; she had enough money to buy something professional-looking, and right now she didn't have enough money for more quality attire. A month's worth of pay wasn't enough for somewhere upscale like the Emporium.
Little did she know, Alastor already intended to take her there, just not today. She was far too injured for that trip, and there were other things they would need to discuss before moving forward.
Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.
When he watched her lay back down while lazily tracing patterns in the soft fabric, he returned his gaze to the windshield, losing himself once more in his thoughts.
She's slow to forgive, but you've got a better shot with her if you make everything clear. Don't hold back with her; it doesn't end well.
Well, he got an answer, at least. Now he just had to figure out how to actually do that. Would he have to mention that he once considered bringing about her demise as well?
Could she actually forgive something like that?
Clink.
Jorōgumo's eyes snapped open when she realized her wrists and ankles were bound in iron cuffs. Everything hurt, but she couldn't afford to let that slow her down as she snapped her eyes around. Wherever she was, it was dark, empty and left her with a strong sense of foreboding. Was this some sort of hellish prison that damnable wendigo thought up for her?
No, surely not. While not particularly well cared for, her cuts were cleaned and bandaged at least, and her once lovely spider legs lay in pieces in front of her, carefully placed so that it looked like some sort of morbid, segmented puzzle that was only one step away from being whole.
When she slowly and painfully worked her way onto her knees, she cried out as a metal cuff snapped around her neck, effectively chaining her to the ground. A slicing sound was heard nearby, and something lashed out at her at lightning speed. Turning her face away from the strike, she tensed in preparation for an attack that never came. Instead, when she opened her eyes to look off to the side, she saw a small black, bladed tendril floating in the air, barely an inch from her chin.
It reached out and forced the spider demoness to look up, and when two more blades appeared, one at each of her cheeks, she realized that she wouldn't be allowed to flinch this time without injuring herself.
When a familiar, plain face appeared from the darkness to lurch in front of her own, she snarled. /Hello, Harionago./
The woman then proceeded to wrap her hair around the spider's neck and bash that lovely, painted face into the tile. /You dare speak to me like an equal, you bitch?!/
/You're right,/ Jorōgumo rasped from the floor, /That's giving you far too much credit, isn't it?/
/HOW DARE YOU!/
/Enough!/
The angry Yokai gave the spider's head one final shove before releasing her, grumbling to herself as she backed away. When a light illuminated behind her, Jorōgumo growled from the floor when she saw Hinoenma sitting imperiously on her meager throne, Nikusui standing dutifully behind her as always.
/Hello, sister,/ Hinoenma greeted her in a spiteful tone. /It's good to see you so healthy and well-kept./
/And it's good to see our sisters' shoulders haven't broken under your weight,/ the injured matriarch sneered.
A high-pitch whistling noise sounded as a blade cut through the air. The next moment, Jorōgumo felt a stinging sensation on her neck, followed by the warmth of her own blood. The bladed Yokai was in her face again, this time taking hold of the spider's hair with her hand and yanking her head back. /Don't talk back to your betters!/
/Betters?!/ the spider bellowed, /How dare you! None of you are better than me!/
/On the contrary,/ Hinoenma purred with a smirk, /You are ranked at the bottom now, dear. Your reputation is in tatters, and after we removed you from danger, your quarry saw fit to destroy your primary lair and the ground it sat upon./
As the unofficial leader of the Sisters informed Jorōgumo of her new position, a young Nikusui walked up to her mistress' side, bowing low. Speaking far too quietly for the others to hear as the younger woman gave her mother a piece of paper to read, it eventually ended with the matriarch giving a soft nod, taking her daughter's cheek in her hand and bestowing a kiss on her forehead. The young woman was dismissed, though she seemed to be glowing with pride.
Turning to the rest, she told them quietly, /My daughter has informed me that the foreigner has been pacified, and made his demands known./
Handing the paper to Hinoenma with a whisper and narrowed eyes, the leader smiled cruelly down at the fallen spider. /Is this all you offered as tribute? Perhaps you were not as well off as you led us to believe. Yes, this is most agreeable; see that a response is written at once. Make it known that we accept his terms./
Nikusui took the letter and kissed her sister's hand. /I will see to it immediately./
/I never could stand the three of you,/ Jorōgumo spat in disgust. /You claim to be remorseless, but your nothing more than sentimental fools!/
/Says the isolationist who was defeated by an ignorant sinner and his pet,/ the leader retorted.
/You don't see us making such stupid mistakes,/ Harionago sneered.
/Only because your sisters have you on a leash!/
Smack!
Now bleeding from her neck and her cheek, the demoness glared sidelong at the temperamental Yokai. /You prove my point so well./
/The third one will stop you from talking,/ she hissed.
/There will not be a third one,/ Hinoenma warned, causing the bladed woman to stiffen. /Unless she refuses to join, of course. After all, with how you've fallen, death would be a mercy over releasing you to the whims of the other families. You certainly haven't made many friends over the centuries. Even your daughters often abandon you, and those that haven't have no reason to remain with you now. If we throw you out onto the streets, what fate awaits you?/
Jorōgumo's already white, painted face seemed to pale further. /I… I will…/
Suddenly, Harionago's hair whipped across the floor, and the spider watched as all the fragments of her shredded legs were sent flying. /You'll what? Fight your way through Hell? Can you even transform?!/
When the shackles came undone and vanished, her eyes widened in horror when she realized that her sister was right. When she attempted to shift, she was met with nothing but agonizing pain. In the end, she was stuck in her current form.
When the demoness visibly wilted, Hinoenma felt a pang of pity; something this very sister always mocked her for. A spiteful part of her wanted to throw her out and see how she fares, but that wasn't her style. With a soft smile, she said, /We will not offer you equality, Jorōgumo; that ship has long since sailed, and in your current condition doing so would only weaken our clan. However, I will offer you one last chance. Join us, sister; if not a place in our circle, we can still offer you safety and care. In return, you will do what you do best in the name of bettering the group./
/She doesn't deserve to eat our shit, let alone-/
/HARIONAGO!/
The woman flinched, wilting in the presence of her enraged sister. /I-I simply mean she doesn't deserve forgiveness for what she's done to us! To one of your own daughters…/
Calming down once more, the leader's eyes went distant for a moment, and the spider watched from the floor. Perhaps she openly mocked the sentiments of others, but there was one truth that she was forced to acknowledge at times; sentimentality can lead to brutal repercussions, and she was likely to suffer them now if she didn't act. /I'm… sorry./
Harionago's head snapped forward in surprise. /What?!/
/For sending her back to you like that… It was rude of me./
/Rude?!/ When Hinoenma snapped, the spider shrank slightly. Once again needing to calm herself, the woman slowly inhaled through her nose. /Rude is hardly the word for it, sister. Such a message is why I ceased to offer you a part of our unity, and why I refuse to offer it now. Now, your only chance is to work under us; to bring power and glory to our clan by doing as we say and going where you're told. If you refuse us now, I assure you that you will not receive a better offer elsewhere. We are your only chance, sister. And you know it./
During a long span of silence, Jorōgumo came to terms with her new reality. Disgraced among the Yokai families, she was indeed an easy target of anyone feeling opportunistic. Even her daughters would be wise to pursue her; the first to devour their mother would likely become the next matriarch of their kind. No matter what, as long as she lived, that one title would always remain hers. That put a huge target on her back. Why her sisters would offer her an out is beyond her, but she was no longer in a position to refuse them. Her freedom was over.
/I… accept./
In spite of her sister's less than flattering tone, Hinoenma smiled. /Then we welcome you as a daughter of the Sisters of-/
/Now hold on!/ Harionago interrupted, stepping up to her sister's side. /I know you're being generous, but we can't skip initiation! We have a reputation to uphold./
/Excuse me?!/ Jorōgumo spat.
/You're right, dear,/ Hinoenma acknowledged with a nod. /How silly of me to forget./ The spider matriarch watched in surprise and disgust as her sister parted the front of her robe, beckoning her forward with a sultry expression. /All potential daughters must prove to have some skill. You may have a reputation, but we simply can't show favoritism here, can we? Come now, my sweet; please your mother./
Still unable to stand, Jorōgumo was humiliated as she crawled slowly and painfully to her sister's chair. Every inch closer brought another wave of hatred; how dare they bring her to this? She, who had once been superior to them in every way, was now forced to kneel between the legs of this manipulative whore while her temperamental sister watched in malicious glee. Yes, let her watch as her sister swore fealty to save herself. In the end, it was all a lie. She would obey her foolish sisters. She would bring power and prestige to their wretched unity. All the while, she would bide her time until they made a mistake of their own. The moment they did, she would tear down everything they owned and ruin everything they loved.
She wanted to blame the wendigo for this, but in the end, she would have succeeded had he been alone. It wasn't even the fault of that damnable translator he brought as his bodyguard; he would never have been able to defeat her on his own. No, it was that dragon. That beast ruined everything; the unknown entity that Kitsune warned her about. The second soul that would come for blood. While it was hard to tell whether or not the creature was a demon or a sinner, there was one thing she knew; with the ferocity that beast showed, it simply had to be a woman.
If that dragon ever returned, Jorōgumo would see her torn to pieces.
Author's Notes:
Sorry this chapter took so long; my ability to write decided to fuck off for an unannounced two-week vacation and everything I wrote for this chapter was absolute shit. My brain is really starting to piss me off. But hey, we're heading back to the hotel now! Bye North Point.
Also, fun fact: Hinoenma is the only one of the sisters (including Jorōgumo) that doesn't eat the men she seduces. She's actually known for seducing men and then leaving them broke and desolate. It's supposed to be a warning against monks falling in love with women, as their lavish lifestyles ruin men. Makes me feel good about being a rather cheap wife.
And the general consensus seems to be a mix of 'Keep it one story' and 'Do what works.' So I'll probably keep it one story. Thanks for the feedback guys!
