"Mommy, I know him," Manami said.
He was on again, answering questions from the reporters. The autotranscript of their banter flashed along the bottom of the screen. The video screens ran silent in the transit system so as not to annoy uninterested riders or interfere with public announcements.
"Of course you do, honey," said Ayano indulgently.
"No, mommy, I know him," Manami insisted.
"Yes, sweetie," agreed Ayano. "You see him on TV all the time. You wanted to see him in person, right? That's why we're here."
"No, you don't understand, mommy," Manami said, and turned away. That was the end of that conversation.
Ayano sighed. She ran her fingers through the pale coral locks of her daughter's hair, trying to get rid of the knots and cowlicks. Manami kept looking out the window, not moving, as Ayano dug around in her bag, found a brush and a hair tie, and wrestled her daughter's thick hair into a more presentable, if somewhat stubby, braid.
At least Manami wasn't throwing a tantrum. Ayano wondered what they were doing in daycare. Was every child this obsessed?
Certainly, "King 'Wameshi", as Manami called him, was a fascinating, remarkable man. His life was long and eventful and - unsurprisingly, considering his demon nature - still running strong. He possessed a magnetic, larger-than-life personality that made him perfect for the unrelenting, ever-present media of every age. Anyone who was, well, anyone had a story about the king, to the point where who knew what was true and what was sensationalized anymore.
Ayano admitted she'd bought into some of the mania as well when she was in high school and university. But for a three year-old? It seemed a bit much.
Granted, her daughter wasn't often like this. As a first-time mother, Ayano frequently compared notes with other parents. Manami was sometimes loud, sometimes shy, sometimes stubborn as a mule, sometimes inexplicable. It didn't seem that she was that much louder, or more shy, or more stubborn, or more inexplicable than other children her age. She had started talking fairly early, and was maybe (in Ayano and her husband's probably biased opinions) a bit more coordinated than most. And she also sometimes had a single-minded focus on odd things, things that would have bored most children, or even some adults, much more quickly. But there was nothing that seemed especially standout or alarming.
Ayano couldn't tell exactly how this whole King Urameshi thing started. Looking back, she supposed Manami did seem to perk up and pay attention whenever he appeared on the news, her eyes tracking his movements. Ayano had simply chalked it up to the fact that the king was, well, the way he was. Kids were naturally drawn to noisy, cartoonish things, right?
But it was nothing like this. When her husband had casually read out the announcement that King Urameshi would be in town, and commented that they were actually close-ish to one of the public meet-and-greets, it was as if a pipe had burst. Manami had been driving the two of them crazy ever since. They finally got a shadow of peace and quiet by promising that yes, they would definitely, absolutely, no doubt-about-it go see King Urameshi. Not a day went by that Manami didn't remind them of their promise. Ayano managed to get the day off work; her husband was not so lucky. Or, depending on how Manami's temper went over the course of the day, perhaps he was lucky.
So now, here they were, riding the train to the meet-and-greet site.
The commercial break was over; the king was on again. Oh, wait, no, he wasn't; it was just some footage from the last Unification Tournament, the king body-slamming his opponent into the ground from a dramatic angle. Ayano actually remembered this match. She'd been busy and didn't catch it live like almost everybody else in the city, it seemed, had. But her coworkers had shown her the highlights the next day. Her workplace always ran a betting pool during the tournament, and she usually bet on King Urameshi whenever he came up. It was partly for nostalgia, but mostly because she didn't actively follow Demon World politics and usually had no idea who most of the others were. Although, admittedly, since they were all demons, the key figures didn't really change much from when she was a kid. She did have kind of a vague general memory of more candidates than she thought she would. Regardless, it was fun.
King Urameshi's hairstyle was a little different lately, she noted, but otherwise he looked and acted exactly as she remembered him from her school days. The carefree days of her youth, she thought in private amusement, although in honesty she'd been a relatively reserved teenager. She had never seen him in person - she wasn't that into him that she was going to brave the crowds for hours on end, though some of her girlfriends could surely be found screaming in the backgrounds of the archival footage. And not that she was old now, but she was certainly an older, hopefully more mature person, plus a happily-married wife and mother.
Meanwhile, the king was there on the screen with his eternally boyish face, and that irreverent attitude that made him so popular - equal parts sincerity and unpredictability.
Ayano smiled as she watched him interact on-screen with a class of kindergarteners. He was really good with kids. He came off very natural and animated, and simply great fun to watch.
She glanced at her daughter, still staring intently out the window. There would probably be a lot of people, and it would likely go quite quickly, Ayano imagined. Manami would have her 10 seconds with the king, then they'd go for ice cream, and then they would head home and finally have some peace and quiet. Maybe, once the euphoria of meeting King Urameshi wore off.
"Sorry, ma'am," said the security guard, patting the rope. "We cut the line off already just under two hundred people ago."
"Oh," said Ayano. She found herself wishing they had gotten on an earlier train. She hadn't thought Manami would be able to get up so early, but she'd been proven wrong when Manami was actually the one to wake her up at the crack of dawn. Sadly, they hadn't taken advantage of that.
"Move along, no loitering if you're not in line," he said.
"Um …" Ayano looked at him pleadingly. "My daughter's been dying to see King Urameshi. Is there anything we can do?"
The guard shrugged. "Try some stilts."
Ayano sighed. She hated causing scenes. "Thank you." She took her daughter's hand, and left.
"Mommy," said Manami. "Where are we going?"
"I'm sorry, honey," said Ayano. "There's too many people. We tried, sweetie. Do you want some ice cream?"
Manami looked away.
Ayano sighed again. She knelt down so that she could look her daughter in the face. "Manami, sweetie-"
She stopped.
She had never seen such a look of immense disappointment on her daughter's face.
No, never on anyone's face.
Ayano felt like someone had stabbed her in the chest. She couldn't live with herself without getting her daughter some glimpse of the king in person.
She stood back up, hands clawing a bit at her temples. Good lord, no matter how much she wanted to, what on earth could she do? She was nobody, an office worker, just an ordinary person. And they were just two people in a sea of at least hundreds, if not thousands, of others in the city who wanted to see the king.
For a brief, desperate second she considered the wild stunts that her more adventurous, risk-taking friends used to pull to sneak into venues. But no, she had never been inclined to that sort of thing even in her younger days, refusing even to play the role of lookout. And besides, she had her daughter with her. Not to mention the fact that King Urameshi and his entourage weren't just entertainment celebrities or sports superstars - they were also politicians, technically. Security was likely well beyond what she could imagine.
She thought for a bit, then took out her phone and looked up the map of the meet-and-greet area. She zoomed in along their announced route, a kind of mini-parade to enable more crowd interaction. She looked for landmarks in the unfamiliar neighbourhood that might offer a better, higher vantage point.
As she searched, she kept thinking how this was silly. This was dumb. This was not worth it. This was a waste of time, and their odds were terrible. She should take her daughter out for ice cream and then to a shopping mall and buy her anything she wanted, and distract her for the rest of the day, and then they should go home.
Then she made the mistake of looking at her daughter again.
It broke her heart.
She sighed. King Urameshi, you better be worth it.
"Manami, dear," she said. "Come with mommy. We're going to take a look around and try a few things."
She did try a few things, but so far they had all been failures. It wasn't as if she were the only person with a map of the route, and there were plenty of people with the same brilliant ideas. At least Manami had been nothing but cooperative and uncomplaining, following her closely and not wandering off or getting distracted at all.
Ayano was carrying her daughter now, trying to give her little legs a rest from all their walking, as she looked up at a fire escape poking out from the side of a building. The building was not too far from this section of the main route, separated by both elevation and high steel fences.
She glanced from the escape to the crowds behind her. Only a short distance away was a dense wall of people trying to peer through the steel fencing.
She didn't exactly have other options at this point. The crowd was chattering excitedly, the air buzzing with noise. The entourage was going to pass by soon, possibly any moment now.
The escape wasn't the most visible from street level, which might've explained why it was empty. But maybe there was a reason nobody was on it...
Well, she had to at least try it.
"Manami?" Ayano stroked her daughter's hair.
Manami lifted her head from Ayano's shoulder and looked at her.
"I'm going to put you down, OK?"
Her daughter nodded, and Ayano strode into the alley and lowered her daughter to the ground.
"Stay where I can see you," she said, one hand on the railing of the escape. "Mommy's going to test these stairs first to make sure they're OK. If you don't stay where I can see you, I'm coming right back down and we're not going up, and we're not going to see King Urameshi."
Manami nodded again.
Ayano headed up slowly, gripping the bars with care and testing their stability. So far, so good.
She could see the crowds - gosh, there were so many people - and could hear the cheers erupting in increasing volume in pockets around the fencing. It seemed the entourage had either arrived or was pretty close - she wasn't high enough to really have visibility yet.
But she also noticed that the paint on the escape was peeling quite a bit, and there were clearly rust stains, obscured until now since they had blended in so well at a distance.
It also bothered her that there was a creaking sound nearly every other step. The crowd sometimes drowned it out, but the noise only seemed to get louder the more she progressed up the escape, and if she was being honest with herself, the platform wasn't the steadiest.
She frowned. The cautious, practical personality in her took over.
Manami would be disappointed, but better safe than sorry. Ayano steeled herself in anticipation of her daughter's expression, and turned around to go back down.
"Manami, mommy's coming down," she called as she descended. "Stay right where you are. Good girl. Sorry, this one didn't work out either. It's not a safe spot to see-"
Then her foot slipped.
And her grip failed her.
Ayano cried out instinctively as she tumbled down the rest of the escape.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, but there wasn't much she was actually able to do about it, other than observing that she was falling down, her arms and legs were hitting parts of the railing, scraping against the side of the building, and the ground was getting closer and closer. She did somehow manage to at least turn her body, somewhat, to not land in a face-forward pile.
She lay there, blinking, in silent shock at the entire thing.
She had no sense of time. Just lay there.
"Mommy!"
At Manami's distressed shout, Ayano became fully aware of the present and of her surroundings, and the fact that she was sprawled gracelessly on the ground.
"...I'm OK, honey," she said, lifting her head, just as she also became aware of running feet against the pavement and the presence of people around her, and voices asking, "What happened?" "Are you all right?"
"Manami," she said to the voices, and sat up. She immediately regretted the vertigo that resulted. "...Manami? Where's my daughter?"
"Don't worry, she's here," someone assured her.
"Oh, thank goodness," Ayano said, turning to thank the stranger. Whose voice, come to think of it, was rather familiar -
Ayano froze.
King Urameshi was looking down at her, hand outstretched. "You OK?" he said, sounding exactly the way he did on TV. He looked very polished and cool, dressed in a sleek white trench coat with designer sunglasses perched on his head.
Ayano stared.
And as she stared, three things occurred to her.
One: Around King Urameshi, and her, was his entourage. As well as a fairly sizable crowd.
Two: In order to get to her so quickly, the entourage must have jumped the steel fence around the route.
Three: The moment she lost her footing, the last words in her sentence had been "King Urameshi". Which meant that her last words when she fell was "King Urameshi", but vocalized as a scream of terror with a rising pitch at the end.
Ayano covered her face with both hands. "Oh my god," she mumbled. "I can't believe- I just- oh my god. This is so embarrassing." This was going to be on the news everywhere.
King Urameshi crouched down next to her. He laughed. It was a very natural, friendly, open laugh. Just like on TV.
"Tell me about it," he lamented. "I fell flat on my face once opening the live lottery results for the Unification Tournament. Splatted right off the damn stage. They caught it on HD and 3D from every single angle, and it turned into the running background footage for the whole tournament. Instant replay, reaction cuts to commercial, slo-mo… I heard it was looping on the Energy Antenna too."
The king made a face at the memory. "You can find it real easy. A hundred years later, still a top download in the public archives. Meme fodder 'till the end of time. It was great." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly to show how 'great' he actually thought it was.
Ayano pictured the king's spectacular faceplant playing over and over, several stories high on the side of the Gandara Library.
She couldn't help but laugh.
The king smiled, and then looked her over briefly. "You don't seem too bad, but sometimes it looks worse than it is. Or- er, vice versa. Anything hurt?"
Ayano paused. It might have been the immediate shock of the fall and the events after, so she had thought it was mostly a blow to her dignity than anything else. But now that the initial excitement had wound down, she realized she had some pretty nasty-looking scuffs on her forearms and elbows, and-
"My leg-" Ayano started, and automatically shifted her weight.
As soon as she did, boy did she feel it. She winced slightly, grimacing.
"Don't move," said the king. "Can I-?"
Ayano gritted her teeth and nodded, curious in spite of her discomfort.
The king reached over, his hand hovering mere centimeters over her ankle. His other hand grasped her elbow carefully.
Both hands seemed to glow without any light, and Ayano felt - something like warmth but not quite like heat, and then the eeriest pulse penetrating deep through the flesh of her ankle. She felt nothing, and then there was a sudden rush followed by intense jabs of electricity, like the feeling of your limbs coming back to life from falling asleep, when the blood starts rushing again. Finally - a strange lightness. Her arm tingled as well.
It was the Spirit Wave technique, she realized.
"That's amazing!" Ayano exclaimed loudly without thinking. She stared at her leg, and then turned her arms to look at them. Her limbs looked as if she had never done an awkward idiot tumble onto them.
King Urameshi laughed again. "It was just a sprain and some cuts. Not like you broke every bone in your body and your stomach is falling out your side or anything."
"Thank you so much, Your Majesty," she said, rubbing her elbows. She felt a little lightheaded.
"Oh yeah," said the king. "What's your name?"
"Shimizu Ayano," she replied automatically. "I'm so sorry about all the trouble. My daughter- Oh! My daughter!" Ayano covered her mouth with her hands, and jumped to her feet. "Manami!"
"Mommy!" Manami darted to her side, and clutched Ayano's pant leg as Ayano put her arms around her. She noticed that Manami had been standing near the king's entourage - actually, they had been standing in a bit of a protective semi-circle around Manami, herself and the king. It seemed they had immediately located her daughter when they came to her, making sure that Manami wouldn't become separated or lost.
She looked up at them. There were four of them, dressed in coats of a style matching the king's except in dark turquoise, almost blue-black. These were the warrior monks, Ayano realized, and she actually managed to remember their names.
There was the ever-present chief of staff, Hokushin; she definitely recognized him. She recalled a hilariously silly argument with her best friend in high school about who was more handsome, the king or his chief of staff, and as a grown woman it cracked her up to think of it now. The giant with the intimidating face, that was Touou. Seizan was the tall, thin one who always seemed perfectly calm and tranquil - the monk's monk, the Spock of monks, she and her girlfriends had nicknamed him. And Nankai, who looked the closest to the king in terms of outward age.
Rest assured, all of them were definitely much, much older than they appeared.
"Thank you," Ayano said gratefully to the nearest monk, who turned out to be the chief of staff. He bowed his head elegantly in acknowledgement.
All right, Ayano conceded to her past high school friend. She was right, he was very handsome.
Ayano knelt down, pressed her forehead against Manami's. "I'm OK, honey," she said again, and then stood up, behind her daughter, clasping Manami's little hands in hers. "Your Majesty, this is my daughter, Manami. She's a big fan of yours; she really, really wanted to see you, but we came too late for the meet-and-greet line. I was on the fire escape trying to find options for a better view when I, uh, fell down. Manami, say hello to King Urameshi."
Ayano looked over at the king. He was not that tall, she realized - barely a little taller than her. She remembered reading somewhere that when someone had a big personality, you always assumed their stature was greater than it actually was.
She looked back down at her daughter, fully expecting a happy explosion of "King 'Wameshi!" followed by her daughter bouncing all over the king as if he were the local theme park mascot.
To her surprise, Manami only stared at the king silently.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Ayano said, baffled and concerned at this sudden about-face in her daughter's behaviour. She bent down. "Didn't you want to meet the king?"
Manami ignored her, let go of one of her hands, and took a step closer to the king. "You helped my mommy," she said, looking straight up at him.
"Yeah?" said the king, his tone casual, his manner amused. "What about it?"
"You did a good job," Manami said. "And you're doing OK." The second statement sounded like an observation in general, not a judgement.
Ayano blinked. This was not what she had been expecting at all.
The king grinned. "Glad you think so."
Manami sighed, a little child's sigh that mimicked an exasperated adult sigh. "But you're still a baby," she said, sounding judgemental this time.
Ayano's mouth dropped in dismay. "Manami-"she began.
The king laughed. "Fighting words!" He bent down on one knee to better match Manami's height. "No, I'm not," he disagreed emphatically. "I look young, but I bet I'm way older than you."
Manami shook her head, unconvinced.
"Way, waaaay older. Older than your mom, your grandma, your great-grandma, your great-great grandma, your great-great-great grandma! Just ask your mom."
"No," Manami said.
"OK, don't ask her. But seriously! Demons live a long time, you know. What would you be doing if you lived forever?"
Manami frowned. "No," she repeated.
"No what, honey?" asked Ayano.
"I don't want to live forever," said Manami. Her little face was set in disapproval.
King Urameshi laughed again. "Wow. You've given this a lot of thought."
"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," Ayano said, sighing. "She's not usually like this… she was honestly very excited at the chance of getting to meet you. She barely slept, and my husband and I didn't get a moment's peace till I promised her we were going to come. I don't know what's come over her."
"It's all right," said the king. "Some kids are just shy. Actually, Manami, you remind me of somebody I used to know. You're almost the same height as her too!" He grinned cheekily at her. "Did you leave me something a long long time ago?" he teased. "You want it back?"
"Why?" said Manami.
"Well, I still got it. You remember what it is? It's kinda this circular blobby hot sun-like thing, it can power a whole city, it-"
Manami was completely unimpressed. "You didn' find anybody so I hafta do your work? Don't be so lazy, you dimwit."
"Manami!" Ayano was appalled. She glanced at the king worriedly.
King Urameshi looked like someone had hit him in the face with a bag of bricks.
He blinked. Twice.
Then the king took his sunglasses off his head and lowered his gaze, as if he had to look away and compose himself. His long bangs fell into his eyes.
Ayano couldn't help but stare. With his eyes obscured, the elaborate occult tattoos on his body became that much more prominent, the only things she could focus on, and it made her even more aware of his demon heritage.
From everything she had seen and read about the king, and from meeting him in person right now, Ayano didn't think for a minute that he would ever hurt them. But it made her realize, in a searing, visceral way - this was a demon king, administrator of the largest territory of the Makai. He was more ancient and more powerful than she could comprehend. He could probably destroy the entire city, maybe the entire world, if he really wanted to. What was a human being to something like that?
Irrationally or rationally, Ayano felt a chill deep inside her, freezing her cold at the thought of the potential wrath she and her daughter might have incurred.
Then she realized the king was trembling.
No, he was shaking.
From laughter.
King Urameshi lifted his head and, with some difficulty, got to his feet, where his guffaws escalated quickly. Soon he was positively roaring with laughter, in complete stitches. He laughed and laughed and laughed. He laughed so hard tears were running down his face, streaks staining his cheeks alongside his intricate battle god tattoos.
His laughter was so honest, so full-hearted, so bold - and so ridiculously contagious. Despite how mortified and nervous she was, Ayano felt a smile cracking across her lips, and she soon found herself laughing as well. She still couldn't tear her gaze away from him, but from the waves of sound around her, it was clear everyone else was laughing with them too.
It was with great difficulty that she finally ripped her line of sight away and looked down at her daughter.
Manami was staring calmly at the king, her expression inscrutable.
It was incredible. Was this really her daughter?
"Oh man," King Urameshi choked out when he could finally speak. He half-collapsed against his chief of staff, draping himself on the other man in a comically-exaggerated fashion. The chief of staff only smiled patiently, waiting a few moments before gently pushing the king upright and handing him a piece of cloth. The king took it, practically grabbing for it blindly, and scrubbed at his eyes.
"That," he gasped, "that was perfect."
He handed the crumpled cloth back to his chief of staff, and squatted down in front of Manami again.
The king crossed his arms. "Okay, Manami," he huffed in mock dismay, "You got me. I'm a godforsaken lazy ass of a dimwit. I swear I meant to look for somebody suitable last year, ten years, a hundred years ago, and I just didn't get around to it. But honestly, I... I didn't bother looking."
King Urameshi's voice had dropped to a normal volume, slightly below a normal volume, clearly meant for Manami alone. Ayano, standing right behind her daughter, could hear every word of course. Out of the corner of her eye she could see others straining to listen in.
"Honestly?" said the king, his voice hushed now. "I'm scared. I'm a crap student and probably a crappier teacher, I've got no damn patience, I'm barely worth shi-er, doodoo, as a king, not without Hokushin and everybody's help cleaning up after me all the time. Plus I don't think I should be giving it away to just anyone. It was- when it was transferred to me that time- it was awful. I don't wanna hurt somebody by accident. And…"
The king took one of Ayano's tiny hands in his own. Ayano started inside, but her daughter didn't react.
"... I feel like," the king continued, "... like it really belongs to the person who made it. I feel like I've just been safeguarding it, holding onto it for the time being. And I feel like, it was created by a human, it should go back into circulation with humans, ya know?"
Manami tilted her head slightly, still looking at him. She didn't say a thing, only patiently took in the king's torrent of words. Ayano wondered what was going through her daughter's mind.
"Anyways," said the king, "when the time comes, when you're a lot older, if it's yours and you're sure about it, you can come and get it. If you don't want it, fine, I'll man up and start looking. I promise. Whatever you decide, I don't care. I know you got your own other life now. But whatever you decide- at least… lemme know. Please. And if you decide you just wanna drop by, you can do that too, you know? For tea or candy or whatever you eat now. OK?" He uncrossed his arms, bit his lip and reached a hand out, the little finger extended in a small hook.
Manami looked at his hand.
Everyone was staring. After a long silence, during which Ayano thought her own eyes were going to dry up and shrivel into raisins from the intense laser stare she was applying to the two figures before her in this drama, her daughter's tiny hand reached out.
A tinier pinky hooked onto the king's.
"OK," Manami said.
Ayano exhaled.
There was a collective whoosh of air around them. Ayano realized practically everyone had been holding their breath, united in the unspoken sense that something very special was happening.
"Now wait," said the king, as if he were just noticing the audience around them. "Waaaaaaait." He got up and looked around, then raised both arms, hands palms out in a hold it gesture. He waved at everyone. "I wanna make something super ice-cold beer crystal clear to everybody here. This is just shit coming out of my mouth, OK? Er, edit that. Sorry, mom," he said, nodding at Ayano.
She smiled and shook her head.
The king looked down at Manami. "You don't wanna repeat that," he said to her. "Not 'till you're at least fourteen. Anyways," he continued to the crowd. "I'm just saying stuff. Nobody bother these people, OK? No questions, no interviews, no chasing, no research, none of that crap. If anybody gives these people grief in any way about any of this, I will find you. I will seriously hunt you down and give your ass the ultimate kicking of its life. And you will wish you never came into this existence. Got it?"
The crowd murmured in understanding.
Ayano blinked. Was it just her or had the sky literally seemed to darken ominously during his words? She looked around; everything seemed normal.
"Great," said King Urameshi lightly. "Glad we're on the same page. OK, let's mosey along now. C'mon. Shoo."
He turned his head to his left slightly. "Hokushin," he said, so quietly that Ayano almost missed it, even though she was right in front of him.
The chief of staff came closer, standing right behind the king. Then the two of them...
Simply stood there. In total silence.
Confused, Ayano looked from one face to the other. Both men wore calm expressions. It wasn't much difference for the chief of staff - he always seemed calm and dignified - but to see the king looking so focused and serious was unusual to her. They weren't frozen - they were still clearly blinking normally, and the king's eyes in particular were darting around a bit. It was like they were listening to something no one else could hear.
She'd heard about the mental exchanges that psychics could have, and she was pretty sure that's what they were doing right now. She wondered what they were discussing in private that couldn't risk anyone eavesdropping on. Something about Manami, certainly. She swallowed, wondering what on earth she had gotten her daughter into.
Then, as suddenly as the king and the chief of staff had started their silent conversation, they finished it. The chief of staff nodded, once, and the king said, softly, "Great, thanks." He sounded satisfied.
He turned back to Ayano, and his face grew animated again, as if nothing had happened. He leaned in towards her.
"Listen," he said, squeezing her shoulder warmly. "It's still too early right now. There's still lots of confusing, conflicting body and brain things going on. If your daughter remembers something-" he stopped, and started again, emphasizing the word. "-When she remembers something, if she wants to come see me, only if she wants to- please- let me know. And if anybody bothers you guys, or you ever need any kind of help, let me know. Contact T1 administration. Hokushin'll make sure it gets to me."
"...Thank you." Ayano touched the tattooed hand on her shoulder shyly. "Is…" She hesitated. "Is Manami… the... reincarnation of someone?"
The king dropped his hand and looked at her. His expression didn't change, but something about his features seemed to cool, sharpen, harden subtly.
"Your daughter is herself," he said. Firmly.
Ayano felt her stomach drop a little at the reproach, and she could feel her face flush just the slightest bit. The king appeared to notice her embarrassment, and his features warmed up again, faster than she could open her mouth to apologize.
"Hey," he said, gently. "If she wants to see me then, she can. If she's like 'screw that crazy old demon dude, I don't wanna see that loser again ever,' that's fine too. Let it be up to her."
Again, his expression didn't change, and he maintained a cheerful, even joking tone and manner. But somehow it seemed to Ayano that his spirit dipped at the potential prospect of a decision in the negative.
He's well over a hundred years old, Ayano realized, but he looks like a sad, lonely little boy.
She forced the corners of her mouth into a comforting, confident smile, and nodded. "If Manami wants to, I'll do everything I can to make sure it happens," she said determinedly.
"Cool," said King Urameshi, smiling. "I appreciate that. Thanks for taking me up on my offer, Manami," he said to her daughter. He lifted a pinky at her, and winked. "Don't forget." He pointed at her in mild accusation. "You promised!"
Her tiny little three year-old daughter looked up at King Urameshi, battle god, demon king, ruler of Territory 1, and nodded solemnly.
It's a deal, Ayano thought.
And then it was over. Everyone said polite goodbyes, and the entire entourage - including the trailing cameras and media personalities - made way to return to the original designated route. Only a little bit behind schedule.
The chief of staff gently brushed her arm. "Do not worry," she heard him murmur as he left. His voice was deep and even more calming in person. "Your family's privacy will be maintained. Pardon my rudeness..." She felt something being pressed into her hand.
And they were gone.
The rest of the day was remarkably unremarkable, all things considered. She took Manami for ice cream as planned, but it was a strange affair. Manami was exceptionally well-behaved, but didn't say a word the entire time, only stared quietly into space. No one disturbed them, although Ayano did catch a few people pointing and whispering. Several particularly well-dressed individuals with nice hair and makeup - reporters, she thought - would look at them, then turn away, then look at them again as if they desperately wanted to go up to them and explode with questions.
But they didn't.
As they made their way further from the centre of the hubbub, no one seemed to be noticing them at all. Though, every so often, she had the strange feeling that they were being watched. But when she looked around, nothing seemed amiss. Even that gradually faded by the time they finally boarded the train home.
On the train, everything felt normal.
Ayano looked out the window as the scenery went by, Manami snuggled in her lap.
The whole affair seemed like an odd dream. She had put what the chief of staff had handed her into her purse - it felt like a business card, but she'd resisted the urge to look at it closely. She wanted more time to process the whole thing. And she wanted to tell her husband about it. She wondered how her husband would take it. She couldn't imagine him not believing her, as unbelievable of a story as it was. They always had long, honest conversations about everything, always confiding in each other in big and small things. That's why their relationship was so strong. She knew she'd feel a lot better being able to share the experience with him. Hopefully together they could be more objective about it.
"Mommy," Manami said suddenly, touching her face.
Ayano looked down at her daughter. It was the first thing Manami had said since they had met the king and the monks.
"Yes, dear?" said Ayano, trying hard to make her voice as normal as possible.
"I like King 'Wameshi," was all Manami said.
Ayano smiled. "I like him too," she said. "And the monks."
Manami nodded. "They're funny," she said, and then scuttled out of Ayano's lap to sit in the empty seat next to her.
Ayano reached out, patted her daughter's cheek. "You can tell Daddy all about it when we get home." She paused. "I think we'll see the king again? What do you think, sweetie?"
Her daughter smiled, then turned to look out the window of the train. It seemed to Ayano like a strange, enigmatic smile, one that looked like it was far too knowing for a child so small.
She spent several moments reflecting on this before she realized-
Manami hadn't answered her question at all.
Author's Notes: This story is the encounter with the little girl with pale coral hair mentioned by Hokushin all the way back in story #3 Undercurrent. To understand how long ago I started Full Circle, you can look this fic up on AO3 (username maiji) to find a link to a painting from 2016 of my attempt at illustrating the outfits I was vaguely picturing in my head.
The story was actually largely complete by early 2017... save for one part where I couldn't figure out the logistics. Because of it, I left this fic untouched for three years. As mentioned in the notes to the previous piece (Upon reflection) I've been cleaning old files lately, and when I reread Full Circle, it felt so close to being ready to post… aside from that knot. Last weekend, I sent out a "okay guys help me finish writing this stupid fanfic from 2017 lmao" message. Many thanks to my friend sunhawk for throwing me some thoughts and comments. They were enough for me to work out the knot, and hopefully I've integrated it in a logical and natural enough way that nothing is super jarring and we can all move on with our lives.
As always, sorry the technology of this far-future world isn't much better than our own technology, since it's not the focus of these stories etc.