Okay. Back and here to announce that this chapter is only one half what it originally was planned, but if I had kept writing you guys would have had an unrealistic amount to read. So, Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 that will follow are in actuality one chapter.

Also to announce that this chapter consists of a series of dream sequences that are separated by dividing lines so you know when one sequence has ended and the other begins. I wrote it with the intention that upon you guys reading it, you feel like they're individual episodes - so hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Action, violence and gore (no hormones this time!).


Chapter 8

Oni Hakaisha

"Speech" 'Telepathy' Thought "Dream"

"Dampness and a foreboding chill. Evening had long settled into the twilight of night. The wooded terrain bristled with the languid breeze of an ambiguous season as the heaven's above shone with the sparks of scattered stars; nothing moved and no sound permeated the air.

Bright light turned the night into momentary day, the ground shook and convulsed with after tremors. The shrieks of collision and the devastation of forest were present through a great radius.

Darkness returned and seeped over the area, excluding the bustle of torchlight that grew near the site.

"High Priestess! It is dangerous for you to follow; please take heed. We will search for signs of explanation and return forth to the village. You need not risk danger."

The torch-lit party traversed the path lying in between the dark wood, one figure stood out ahead of the others, who clung closely to each other from fear and caution. The slender figure glanced to the dubious young man who flanked her left side, his countenance pleaded for her to concede.

The high priestess smiled emptily at him. "Kakyo, you are sweet to consider my well being, but it is inconsequential. My task is to take the village's well being, and investigate what caused the earth to tremble and sky to blaze."

Her expression was subdued. She seemed almost ghostly with the torch light bestowing a luster to her alabaster complexion and graying hair, which was held back loosely with a black ribbon. Her onmyouji robe clung snugly to her slender form, the pearl necklace that hung over her attire created a fluent noise as it swayed with her stride, as did the red tassels attached to her squared off collar and her fluttering long sleeves. Her movements were composed, as was her tone of speech, her voice never raising haughtily or conveying any real emotion. She carried her middle age well, seeming decades younger; her eyes were slanted, not mirroring her thoughts but not hard as stone, only soft, un-expressing orbs of starless night.

"But High Priestess, we are nearing the forbidden forest, and it is unknown what could lurk in the shadows seeking an opportune time as to lay harm to you," the young man coaxed, his gentle green eyes flashed like camphor with the rising glare of flames in the distance.

The small pilgrimage stopped as the scorched and thrashed dark wood came before them; heavy smoke veiled the sky above. The young man called into action the rest of the small company to spread out and search the area for any sign of life or sorcery.

He kept protection of the high priestess, but found himself bewilderingly following her off as she strayed from the others, apprehensive of the suspicious scene.

"High Priestess, please, we mustn't stray too far. Let the others and myself take charge—" Kakyo was hushed by a quieting gesture made by the high priestess, who was scrutinizing the trunk of a heavy and tall tree.

She pressed her fingertips against the trunk and traced the gashes that marred the bark. Feeling the drip of hot liquid run over her fingertips, she found the liquid to be an ink-like substance, thick as tar over her fingers and of a heavy metallic scent.

Looking into the closest direction the marks led to, she strode deeper into the thick wood, the darkness of it so assaulting that the gigantic trees towered into the sky, blocking out the starlight.

"High Priestess, wait!" The petition fell on deaf ears. Using the faint flicker of firelight that followed behind her, she tracked the trodden ground, which was stained with the now familiar ink-like substance from the tree.

The wails of a creature echoed in the close distance, resounding over the shouts of her loyal follower and of the crackle of the nearing fire. The high priestess let herself be guided by the sound and found herself in an open area in middle of the jeering darkness. Soft light filtered through the old branches of the surrounding trees, slightly mystifying the priestess as she gazed up at the patch of night sky visible.

The wailing sounded again, louder and more distinguishable. The creature was among the area. Then her sight glimpsed a piece of cloth peeking behind a robust tree trunk. She stepped cautiously towards the tree, advancing as to not alarm the creature.

As she made her path around the trunk, she saw a bundle of cloth, and realized that it was a blanket wrapped around the still wailing…child. She kneeled down and took the writhing bundle in her arms. Something fell from the wrapping. She glanced down by her foot and saw an onyx pendant, with a 'bloodstone' in an onyx band casing. It was indeed a necklace. She returned her attention to the crying bundle she still held. With an uncharacteristic genteel nature, the high priestess uncovered the blanket and tucked it away from the child's face.

The baby seemed to have been given birth to recently, but was unlike anything the priestess had ever seen in a human child. When the child stopped its fussed weeping, it gazed up at her, its crimson eyes were like unflickering fire. She discovered that the child was female, and that its physiognomy was like any of a normal female child, all except for her eyes.

She at once noticed that the child was shivering, and covered her up tightly with the blanket, which was the only possession bestowed on her, besides the eerie necklace. She took the necklace and stood, with the child in her arms. While further adjusting the child's wrapping, she noticed stains of blood on the blanket, as well as smears of the mysterious ink-like substance discovered before. The child, still shivering, began to wail once more, snapping the high priestess from her musings.

"High Priestess! Where are you!?" Brought back to attention of her location, she realized that the flames from whatever struck the forbidden forest were advancing only mere miles from where she stood. She secured the baby to her breast and followed her path from whence she had advanced.

"I am here, Kakyo," she answered the preceding call and found her way back to her follower, who directed them out of the forest and back to where the rest of the party waited their return.

Once at a distance from the fire, they realized that other villages were answering the call of the impending blaze and were gathering to extinguish the growing fire, so the discreet party parted back to their village, over towards the other side of the wood in a revered valley, where it was known throughout Japan to be the asylum for the most powerful and respected Onmyoji of Japan, a priestess village.

At returning to the village, the high priestess gathered her most trustworthy members and held a meeting in her home. She explained the oddity of her finding such a child. Placed on the table, the child still cried while the conversing group of women discussed the probability of the child's origins.

The child's cries became fitful; at once the few pieces of furniture residing in the home began to tremble, as did the walls and floor as the child's wailing and agitation increased. Many of the women began to pray fearfully and panic. The high priestess went to the table and was astonished at what she saw. On the corner edge of the table she had placed the necklace, and the bloodstone was now pulsing with energy, and it pulsed and flashed with greater excitement as the child's crying became more powerful.

"The necklace…" she hurriedly took the necklace into her hand and looked down at the wailing child. The roof had begun to shake with the rest of the house. Making a decision of theory, the high priestess placed the pendant over the child's small chest and placed the necklace over and around its neck.

Instantly, passivity went over the child and the shaking diminished til it ceased. The pulsating bloodstone began to soothe back into a fluent swirl within the stone, until it too ceased. When all was found to return to normality, the group turned their attentions back to the baby, who had fallen into a deep slumber, her small hands gripping the onyx chain of the necklace in her fists.

"She is a demon…of tremendous power, and filled with hate and fury," the high priestess spoke passively as she watched the child in slumber. Her words stirred a fearful communication between the rest of the women who had witnessed the fearful happenings.

Calming the women, the high priestess declared that the child would be her responsibility, and to not speak of what occurred to anyone outside the circle.

"She was sent by the gods, and her purpose is yet to be seen. Her destiny is a great one, which we should begin readying her for." She looked down to the child and took her in her arms, cautious to not part her from the necklace.

"Isn't that right, Kyouran?"


The rays of midday trickled past the branches. Lush green vegetation of the forest was filled by the chirp and the scurry of woodland creatures. A small brook lulled softly, its crystalline surface glimmered brilliantly as the rays mirrored and shone. Laughter echoed just in the distance. A majestic deer dipped its snout towards the cool waters of the brook, lapping at the refreshing liquid.

The youthful laughter struck the tranquility as it became harsh jeering cackles. The deer was frightened off as a small figure stumbled over the brook and splashed the shimmering surface and continued to flee. The laughter and jeering followed close behind as she ducked between rogue branches and advanced over the mighty roots of ancestral trees. Cuts and faint bruises discolored her sun-kissed skin.

Her garb tattered and her nimble feet dirty from dust and mud, she ran over an expanse of forest until she reached a wide field. The meadow shone from the luster of the noonday sky, the golden hay swayed from a faint breeze as her fleeing made a path.

She tripped and fell into the golden grass; her chasers came upon her, huddled to herself and slightly trembling.

"Decided to stop running, oni!" a dark haired boy taunted, the rest of the pack circled, ready to pounce.

She shut her eyes, and gripped her only possession tighter in her small hands.

The boy sneered, and grabbed at her, but she struggled away, not looking into her attackers eyes as two others pulled her to her feet and held her from fleeing. Looking to the trodden ground, she held her possession to her.

"No oni deserves the treatment you get in the village!" he charged angrily and looked down at the necklace she held to herself. "And you especially don't deserve that jewel. Give it to me, I won't tell you again!"

Eyes of unflickering fire glared up through disheveled strands of long dark hair. The boy stifled his nervousness.

"I told you to give me that jewel don't make me try to take it like before, or I'll make you sorry, oni!"

The broken onyx clasp dangled out of her palms, the pendant framing imprinting itself to her hands from her tight grip. She had saved it from falling from her neck when they tugged harshly at the pendant, breaking the clasp. She could not spare having it parted from her possession.

She began to wretch herself from their hold and struggled when they pushed her to the ground, trying to part her hands to get to the necklace. She bared her fangs and bit one of the boys on his forearm, causing her to be struck and held down.

They gripped her small wrists to painful angles and forcefully took the necklace from her. The dark haired boy looked down at her as she rolled onto her knees, her fingers laced in the dirt as her talon-like nails dug into the ground.

"Give it back!" she snarled out, her voice shaking with suppressed rage.

The pack of boys fell back, nursing their scrapes and bite marks as they looked at her apprehensively. She stood up, her small frame trembling. She set her hostile gaze on the dark haired boy.

"Give it back, human!" she spat out venomously. Some of the boys began to cautiously step back, fear showing in their eyes.

"Stay back, soulless demon!"

She was knocked back a step. A gash formed just under her left eye from where the rock struck her. Silence clung; only the soft breeze stirred. Her senses flared, as did her crimson aura. Blinding heat consumed, rage took over, fury unleashed outward.

The golden rays of the sun were blocked out by the devastation. Trees burned, the meadow scorched. The bodies torn…

Kyouran stood in the middle of it all, gaze blank, absently gripping the pendant as she held it against her chest.


The room was dark, her windows lowered shut. Her position from across the door didn't filter out the vehement argument occurring just beyond it. Sitting huddled into the corner, Kyouran could distinguish high priestess and her most loyal follower's voices as she traced the facets of the garnet stone of her pendant with the tips of her fingers, clasp repaired and necklace around her slim neck.

Her mind reconstructed what had occurred in the meadow, in vivid detail, even the moment that she had been blinded by her own

"This will occur again in the future! We cannot control her, High Priestess; villagers from the entire province fear and resent her mere presence," the follower paused, composing himself to restrain his heated tone. "They were children…"

After a lapse, the high priestess sighed. "Those children should have known…" her tone was calm, expressionless. "Kakyo, I know that this past year has been very difficult for you to follow my will—"

"Please, High Priestess! I have not meant to dissent. I would serve you and heed your command with my life— I only fear that your life is at risk by harboring such a being, a being rumored to be a demon. Since the village has become her refuge, she has proven beyond a doubt that she is… extraordinary," Kakyo's scrupulous tone intended to alleviate the tenseness, but only resounded in the expanse of the room.

"I understand your feelings, Kakyo. You worry about the safety of the village, and of your young daughter. I fear that the only solace that I may bestow you, is that under my tutelage, Kyouran will protect this village, and the surrounding villages as well. Unfortunately, many see her as a being to resent and loathe. It complicates matters greatly," the high priestess's tone was apathetic, but even from her eavesdropping from the opposite room, Kyouran knew it wavered with some sort of doubt.

Kakyo bowed and gained permission to step closer. "High Priestess…may I be privileged to know, how you intend for Kyouran to protect the villages?" his green eyes shimmered in the candlelight and the dying rays of dusk seeping through the partially shut windows highlighted his neck-length coffee brown hair.

The high priestess looked at the advancing evening dark through the crevices of the wooden shutters, while she replied, "You have noticed that in her first year of life she seemingly grew as if she was a 5 year old child?" when Kakyo nodded in confirmation, she continued, "I intend to teach her within what is left of this yearly cycle the history of the evil that has spread over our country in the past century. With that bested, I will train her to become a priestess warrior."

Kakyo's tightened jaw led her to believe that he understood the implications for such course of action. After the foreboding that clung in the air dissipated, Kakyo took up his stone expression.

"High Priestess Sumeragi…if I understand correctly, you intend to instill the ancient warrior teachings long ago discarded by the Sumeragi Elders, to a demon spawn that has no loyalties to this village, let alone humanity?" Kakyo's cold tone did nothing to ebb the sharpness of his words. "Do you believe that the evil is so threatening to the country that you will train a demon to destroy other demons!?"

"Yes." His stunned semblance did not show in the evening candlelight. His expressive eyes glimmered with momentary doubt. "All stated is my belief and my intentions, Kakyo. I do not expect you to agree with them, but I expect you to follow my word," Priestess Sumeragi replied in her own rarely cold tone, as she looked into Kakyo's flaring green eyes.

After registering his position, Kakyo bowed, all tension erased from his features. "I will heed to all your wishes, High Priestess. I know you seek the best for all, and I will commit myself to seeing that my accomplishments best those wishes," the characteristic warm strength returned to his frame and tone. With the balance restored to both, the high priestess gave the respectful nod that signified his freedom to depart, to which he fully bowed and left the home.

Letting the semblance of silence reign in the room, the high priestess faced the small alter dedicated to her ancestors and family Elders, and kneeled in preparation to pay thanks and homage.

"I do not believe that I should need to repeat my intentions to you, seeing as you took it upon yourself to listen," the priestess addressed Kyouran— who stood by the open panel of the side room, as she sat kneeled at the alter with her eyes closed in prayer.

The small girl gave no sign of reverence or attention to what was addressed as she set her crimson spheres to the high priestess's back.

"But, I do feel that it is necessary to reiterate the importance that you never part or remove that necklace, Kyouran," she paused as she began to light the white candles symbolic and in honor of every Sumeragi clan head in the history of the great onmyouji family. "Your lessons are to begin tomorrow," she finished simply and returned her full attention to her task.

Semblance stoic, only the pulsing of the garnet pendant revealed the ire attached to her guardian, and to the idea that she was to dedicate her existence to the protection of the feeble human race.


Late afternoon descended through her path. She had been tracking her quarry the entire day it was the last of its pack. Even her powerful mare could never possibly equal her speed, so she had taken to traversing through the forest by foot, using her furious pace and momentum to hop from tree to tree via the highest branches whenever her path became more wayward or simply nonexistent. With her perched perspective above ground, the rays of the afternoon gleamed off her polished armor breastplate and removed the perpetual shadow from the black sheath of her specially crafted sword as her hastened hunt made her a blur to even the most trained human eye. She impassively marveled at the creature's ability to shroud its energy shield and decided that she would take the time to tear it piece by piece when she came upon it.

A flicker spiked suddenly in the back of her mind to the west of her position. She sprinted and leapt high into the air, flipped and had her feet push off the robust trunk of the nearest tree to catapult her 30 feet over to her required direction towards the branch of a mighty pine and continue her precise pace, her dark hair whipping behind and about her from her brisk movements.

In a matter of moments she had traversed more than half of the distance between herself and her quarry when she sensed the diminutive ki auras of about four humans in the same area as the demon. She clenched her jaw at the impending threat and let the familiar swirl of energy pump into her bloodstream as she cleared the rest of the distance in under a minute.

The shouts of fear echoed through the sun drenched forest. Kyouran snarled at the sound and leapt the rest of the distance to land in a crouch on a well beaten path cut between the trees. The path was one of many leading to the province barter market from the grand intersection of paths between the scattered and surrounding villages of the fast growing and thriving province.

She stood slowly from her crouching position to tower menacingly under the rays of the advancing sun, and set her cold crimson gaze at her quarry of the day. Cornering a trembling party of merchants and their man-pulled carriage of contraband was a creature with stone-colored scales on its torso, upper arms, and hind quarters, thorned brow ridges and retractable claws on webbed hands. Disheveled and coarse black hair spiked just above it's shoulder blades and aligned at the hairline was a sharp row of thorn-like spikes. On its wrists were oval shaped slits that she knew from previous experience the purpose served to the creature.

"I've been looking for you, demon," Kyouran stated in a cold and dark tone, using the ancestral tongue of all demons, rudimentary Japanese her expression stoic and her spheres of unflickering fire fixed under narrowed eyes as she strode paces closer to the crisis.

The stated creature froze as it whirled around to face the voice, its slanted eyes widening and the snake-like pupils of its vivid orange orbs dilating as it caught sight of the figure infamous in the demon underworld.

"Oni Hakaisha!" The demon hissed menacingly, its gray forked tongue flicking past the jagged crevice of sharpened teeth bared in snarl at her. The demon's pupils and eyes narrowed as it seemed to be surveying its options.

"Please, do run. I enjoy the stench of fear you give off when you flee, not to mention how you would make excellent target practice," she stated acidly as she stepped even closer for the demon's discomfort.

Hissing in anxiety and too nervous to flee, the demon lashed out and grabbed the nearest hostage at hand, which was the only female of the merchant party, and gripped her by her slender pale throat, extending its retractable claws to dent the skin dangerously. The men cowered and froze in fear as the demon eyed Kyouran with veiled confidence.

Kyouran's expression was solid and stoic, the only thing betraying her composure was the fluent pulsing of the garnet pendant hung over the clavicle portion of her breastplate.

"Hahah, you have no choice I will flee for now, and I'm taking this wench with me!" the demon rasped cunningly as it began to back away with its whimpering hostage.

However, the creature paused its movements as it heard the demonic cackle coming from the infamous figure standing only meters across from him. The gleam of ivory fangs peeking behind maniacally quirked lips jarred all that witnessed.

The creature began to tremble after locking gaze with blood red spheres that held nothing but incredible malice. They were searing and cold as ice all at once.

Kyouran placed her hand on the handle of her sword and pulled it free from its sheath swiftly and calculatingly, and held it to her side. The double-edged blade flashed with a flicker from the sun's rays and the silver intricate pattern quite similar to that of the patterned framing that held the garnet stone of her pendant etched into the completely onyx handle gleamed as if recently polished.

The demon's eyes widened in distress. "What are you doing?! I will kill her!" it shouted as it dug its claws deeper into the woman's neck, warranting a pained cry from his captive.

"And…what is that to me." The demon stumbled back in shock, holding his grip firm to the neck now trickled by blood. "I do not negotiate with demons for anything, and even if I did, her life is worthless; I wiped out your pack, and your head is the only one missing for my collection," she stated apathetically as she strode towards the demon, sword outstretched with the tip of the blade dragging tentatively on the ground, metal scraping against rock as she bore her gaze into her prey.

The men gasped at the scrap of the confrontation understood and cowered the female hostage looked with terrified brown eyes at Kyouran, pleading silently for help.

"You are insane!" the demon hissed out as its stare glanced to all sides of it for escape. Overtaken by desperation and fear, the creature snarled and flicked its wrist towards Kyouran, shooting out a black spike from the oval slit at least 12 inches long in direction to attempt to impale her while he simultaneously took the woman and tossed her with tremendous force to the side and began to flee in the opposite direction, where her back collided bone-crushingly with the trunk of a tree, severing her spine and killing her instantly.

Bringing her sword up to counter, the spike struck the blade just above the handle and sent the sword flying out of her hand to land meters behind her, the blade fixed straight down into the ground.

She went directly into action before anyone could even gasp.

The demon managed to get many yards away from her, but soon halted dead in its tracks as Kyouran phased directly into its path. "Impossi-!" its mortified cry broke unfinished as Kyouran brought her left hand and slashed at it horizontally across the neck. Silence as the orange orbs dimmed and the snake-like pupils dilated, a perfectly orange horizontal line materializing just below the creature's un-scaled neck.

Body rigid, the creature's head rolled and hung backward facing the opposite direction as it still hung from tendons and vertebrae, a stream of hot tangy orange blood spurting outwardly from the decapitation and splattering on trees, ground, and alabaster garments, polished breastplate and worn leather boots.

Scowling almost dejectedly from the ease of the kill, Kyouran wiped hot fluid splattered on her left cheek with the back of her hand as she raised the other palm side up and conjured a small blast of ki to strike the still-standing corpse.

Dismembered and scorched, the remnants of the carcass laid strewn across a clear radius as the head rolled in the air and collided against a tree, where it landed nestled at the feet of the still cowering survivors of the party.

Apathetic in her stride and countenance, the demon priestess warrior strode past the scene and stood in front of her sword still anchored into the ground. She faintly wondered as she wiped the gunk under her fingernails on her gi why she even carried the weapon at all, seeing as her dagger like claws did more than suffice on her missions.

She pulled the blade free and returned the sword to its sheath. Glancing over her shoulder, her crimson eyes narrowed at the still living men. Turning and walking back to where her trophy lay, she picked it up by the coarse scalp. The men backed away and did not repress the tremble of fear and distress in their frames.

Her orbs of unflickering fire glanced towards the right where the only other casualty had fallen. Blank brown orbs mirrored the glare pouring through the thick foliage above them. The lifeless ragdoll no longer resembled the vision of youth it had even when stricken with fear.

Sun-kissed semblance unaltered, the intimidating figure once again directed he intense gaze at the men.

"Here." Removing something previously tucked into her black sash, she tossed a small leather pouch to the nearest man's feet. When he only stared at her blankly after directing conflicting glances at his partners, she answered their stares. "Compensation."

That stated, she turned on her heel and walked down the path in direction to the grand intersection of villages, her trophy hung in her grip at her side still dripping orange fluid.

After gathering enough of their wits, the men retrieved the lifeless woman and placed her in the back of the carriage, strewing one of their weather-beaten ponchos over the corpse. One of the men remembered the leather pouch still discarded in the weeds near the carriage and picked it up, opened and poured the contents in to his open hand.

Under the sunlight, the facets of the amethyst, sapphire and ruby of the half dozen stones glimmered and sparkled brilliantly.

Mortified and dazed, one of the men staggered back. "That was…was" he rasped out of a dry mouth and looked wide-eyed at the other two.

The man holding the rich fortune frowned as he fisted the contents and looked off to the general direction of their 'savior's' departure.

"Kyouran the Demon Destroyer…"


Sunset was only about an hour away and she knew that if she didn't return before the dimming of the sky her father would worry, not to mention scold her for playing alone so far away from the village. Being allowed to cut her lessons short, she had gone to visit one of her favorite playing grounds, if it could be considered playing 'ground'.

The wooden bridge that stood suspended over the deep waters of the river was seldom used by any, being that it was so far off from the more preferred course to and from the priestess village.

Leaning over the side, her deep auburn locks danced in the breeze and the dangling charms around her wrist chimed with her movements as she stared at her fluent reflection and giggled at the distortion. Growing quickly bored, she decided to try one of the simple tricks she had been taught by her priestess tutor.

She searched in her robe to find what she needed and pulled it out with the tips of her pale fingers. The white slip of paper had no marking except the crease from being folded. She placed the paper flat on the wooden edge and closed her eyes, conjuring her concentration; placed the tip of an index finger on the middle of the slip and slowly traced five intersecting lines, which turned red as she passed over them a second time.

When she opened her eyes, a small red pentagram had formed on the slip of paper.

"It worked!" she squeaked happily and set her gleaming green eyes at the shades and tones of orange, gold, and scraps of blue that were swimming in the horizon. "It's gonna get dark soon better try it now," she mumbled to herself and held the slip of paper at the bottom pinched between her index and thumb.

Murmuring a simple incantation, the slip glowed white and flashed. She now held a small white crow nestled in her palm, which cawed and spread its wings. Her youthful laugh chimed in the wide space and over the slow running of the river as she held the miniature bird closer to her face.

Whispering to the small animal, it soon obeyed and flew high above her head and dove close to the water before swiftly slicing the air and pulling upwards with a caw. The magical crow soon fluttered back to its conjurer and landed on her wrist.

"Yay! I did it," the young girl smiled as the crow flashed white and returned to its original form, a blank slip of paper. She was so euphoric that she couldn't wait to show her father her trick. Just then a chilled breeze flowed over the water and snapped the paper out of her grasp. "Wait! No come back," she cried out as the slip surfed the air currents and fluttered out of her reach towards the edge of the bridge, where it plummeted out of her reaching hand down into the water below.

Her sadness quickly turned to distress when she realized the fluent chiming that always accompanied her movements was absent. She realized that her mother's charm bracelet was no longer clasped around her small wrist. "Mother's bracelet!" she gasped and looked over the side to the bottom. Her eyes darted frantically in search for any faint glimmer of silver until a shine caught her gaze just under the bridge.

There, nestled dangerously at the edge of the rock supports of the bridge was her mother's bracelet. Afraid of the sadness it would cause her father to lose the charm, she ran to the ground past the bridge's wooden boards and climbed the slippery rock edge towards the bottom supports of the bridge. Getting on hands and knees as to better insure her from slipping, she found herself dead ended. The bracelet hung off the edge of the support just across from her, but there was no way to get to it, and it was fearfully close to being washed away by the waters.

She told herself that she could not lose it the bracelet was the only thing she had to remember her mother. So, she carefully expended her hand to the bracelet, but it was just out of grasp. Leaning closer, her fingers brushed one of the small jasmine charms and managed to pull the bracelet chain closer, and clenched it tightly in her palm. She released her contained breath and slowly backed away from the edge to press her back against the cold stone support.

Standing and turning to face the wall and make her way back from where she had preceded, her foot slipped and one of the stones collapsed under her other foot, sending her falling back to the water with a cried yelp. She quickly sunk to the bottom and was disabled from swimming to the surface because the stone that had collapse pinned one of her nimble feet in a mess of weeds and mud. She stared up at the surface, the rays of day still present but noticeably dimmed, bracelet tightly gripped in her small fist. Her senses were also dimming, as her mind brought the solace of one thoughtthat she would see her mother again.

But then she felt her body lifting, or rather being lifted to the surface. The next thing after her lungs gasped the delicious air and relieved the burning in her chest, she found herself lying on the still warm boards of the middle of the bridge. A momentary blast of heat brushed her soaked skin and clothes as she pulled herself to sit up. She ignored the throb of her ankle as soon as her green spheres caught sight of the tall, slender, and dark-haired figure in newly dried attire as she fastened the sheath of her sword back into place over her right hip and adjusted her armor breastplate.

Red eyes gazed intensely at her over a shoulder, dark brown bangs fluttering with the soft fading afternoon breeze. "Taking risk for a metal charm materialistic and foolish," the cold monotone held a soft-spoken timbre, feminine, but still commanding and low toned. She had never heard her speak before that moment, and found it comforting, instead of intimidating.

The young girl diverted her gaze and looked at the bracelet she still held tightly in her hand, then opened it to admire it. The silver jasmine and cherry blossom charms symbolized her mother's favorite flowers.

When she looked back up to the figure, she noticed the severed head she had just taken into her grasp, and which now hung by coarse black hair at her side. Not paying any mind to her wide-eyed and mortified expression, the figure walked to the opposite side of the bridge, halted and turned her head to look back at the awestruck little girl.

"Villagers will come for you before dark, so I suggest you don't wander off. The wolves would think you a feast hobbling forth like a wounded animal." She faced her front and strode over the creaking boards of the bridge.

"Kyouran…" she paused noticeably, her halt lasting for what to her felt like hours. They addressed her with ebbed sharpness or fear, and never used her given name unless with her full title: Kyouran…Oni Hakaisha. This youthful timbre was different.

She glanced over her shoulder, a delicate dark eyebrow raised at the girl. Her unflickering fire met with brilliant green. "My name is Mekareh— and thank you for saving me from drowning!" the tone was rushed and hushed as she held her injured ankle, her still drenched auburn hair sticking to her temples and on the back of her neck as she lowered her gaze in reverence.

Kyouran stared stoically at her for mere moments, then humphed, turned and walked off the bridge and entered the shadowed path tucked under the towering trees.

Before the sun dipped past the glowing horizon, her father and a group of villagers found her and took her back to her home, where she nursed her sprained ankle comfortably in bed for a week. The silver jasmines and cherry blossoms dangling from her pale wrist attached to their re-clasped bracelet chimed every once in a while in memory of that day.


The stars and moonlight shone through the skylight roof shutters as hot steam coiled upwards and out into the night. Her bathhouse was in a secluded corner of the village and was the biggest, rivaling even the high priestess's. The gashes on her arms healed under the hot water as she submerged herself into the comforting heat. The familiar weight of her necklace lessened as it floated slightly off her chest and neck in the water.

She could hear the muffled chirping of the crickets and hushed murmurs of life of the village as she rested her back against the wooden walls of the tub. Resurfacing, she pushed her soaked mane back and out of her face as she rinsed the foulness of her kills off her skin and hair, dejectedly enjoying the soft scents of incense wafting in the air and rose oils assimilated into her bathing water. The soft flickering candlelight cast shadows over her characteristic attire, stained with soot, grime, and death. Her muddy boots lay discarded on the ground as did her battered armor breastplate and sheathed sword by the wooden bench that her clothes lay tossed upon.

She washed the dirt from under her nails and gave her hair a final lather, submerged herself once more, then resurfaced with a sigh. Growing tired of the cooling waters, she adjusted herself so as to sit on the outer wooden edge of the tub, wringing the water out of her hair.

"What do you want, kid!?" she asked tersely without directing her gaze to the only entrance of the bathhouse, which stood behind her.

Mekareh yelped in surprise at being discovered and stumbled behind the corner she was hiding tucked by the wooden door. She was in her apprentice onmyouji gi, her usually flowing auburn hair was neatly braided and tied with a silk red ribbon; she even wore a pair of white gloves, and she had tucked her charm bracelet to slip under her gloved wrist preventing the characteristic chiming. Standing off to the side just next to the tub, she gave Kyouran's back a wide-eyed expression as the warrior apathetically combed her long fingers through her long wet hair.

"How did you know it was me!?" the small girl piped in her awestruck tone as she fidgeted with her robe collar.

"Because there's no other human or being alive that would be foolish enough to disturb me while in the nude and bathing," Kyouran glanced back at her over her shoulder and gave her a rare smirk that showed off a fang, the combination of the candlelight and the radiance of the night's light giving her sun-kissed skin a delicate glow.

"Hahah— true!" the bright-eyed girl smiled. "I just came to show you!" she paused as she turned to show her back and tugged on her sleeves to reveal the engraved red intersecting lines of a pentagram placed just under the nape of her neck and past the collar on the alabaster robe. "Today I passed my first test in becoming an onmyouji apprentice. Father told me he was proud and that my mother would be smiling down on me from heaven— he was so happy!"

The small girl was brimming with excitement as she told her of the ceremony and how even the high priestess congratulated her and complimented her father on having such a promising daughter.

"So, you will be studying under Sumeragi soon. It would be nice to get that old bat off my back," Kyouran stated with cynical amusement as she stood in the tub and trudged to the opposite side to retrieve her silk robe. She put it on and tied the belt as she sat on the edge and rested her back on the wooden wall of the bathhouse, the light playing off the onyx chain and frame of her necklace and casting twinkles from the facets of her garnet stone.

Mekareh gave her a child-like pout. "The high priestess is a nice woman, but you don't like her at all, huh?"

"I like the old woman about as much as I'd like getting a rusty spike impaled through my skull…so I guess that is a no," she replied dryly and smoothened her long bangs to their original style.

"Oh," the girl said and diverted her gaze, noticing the discarded attire on the bench. "You returned later than usual from your hunts. Were there a lot of monsters?"

"Twenty four. They wouldn't stay dead, and decapitating all of them took longer than usual. Then I had to dispose of the corpses," Kyouran replied dejectedly as she glanced out the wooden shutters of the skylight.

The young girl felt a little squeamish and decided to change the subject. "Would you like me to take your things to be washed? I could get my father to sharpen the blade of your sword," she offered and absently watched a trail of incense wafting languidly in the air.

"Hm, no human could lift my sword, let alone sharpen the blade; I will take care of my clothes, they're the only pair I have."

"Oh."

A period of silence washed over in the space. Then, Kyouran stood and stepped out of the bathtub, the wooden floor boards surprisingly warm under her black-toed feet. "Go home, kid. Don't need to give your ever loyal father "Kakyo the True" a reason to glare at me more than usual," she remarked sardonically as she set her crimson eyes on Mekareh's brilliant green.

"Hahaha, you're funny, Kyouran. Maybe if you told more funny jokes like that you'd have more friends, not just me," Mekareh smiled genuinely. She was very wholehearted for an eight year old, and quite bold, something that few to no humans got away with, especially when addressing the demon priestess warrior.

Kyouran crossed her arms and let her imposing height tower over the somewhat naïve girl. "Maybe I should have left you at the bottom of that river…or maybe I should return you there, kid," she stated in her dark tone and glowered down at the auburn-haired girl.

A sweatdrop plastered itself to the side of Mekareh's head as she nervously laughed up at the looming figure with demonic red eyes in front of her. She quickly turned on her heel and bolted out the door goofily saying, "Goodnightdon'tletthebedbugsbite!"

Kyouran watched her sprint out and sensed her heading to her small wooden house at the other end of the village. Sending a surge of aura outward, her damp hair instantly dried and her robe clung warmly to her skin. She then looked back and sneered disdainfully at her battered armor.

"I loathe going to the market…but it is now unavoidable," she paused and once again admired the full moon shining through the skylight as she traced the pads of her fingers over the facets of her stone pendant. She thought of what Mekareh had said about her getting more friends. The idea had never even dawned on her that the young bright-eyed girl considered her that.

"Friend…humph."


The late morning rays carried over the province with a warm grace of a mid-spring day. The semi-paved path had only two occupants at the moment, quite rare considering the hour and the routine of the merchants heading towards the market square. The breeze was cool, but still comforting. Cherry blossoms surfed the gentle air currents like pale-pink snowflakes, and the chirping overhead subdued any need to create idle conversation, not that it could be prevented for long.

"The sakura are so pretty this year!" the bright-eyed girl stated happily as she walked side-by-side with the stoic and looming demon priestess warrior.

Kyouran held her gaze straight ahead at the upcoming fortified gates of the grand market square the great barter and merchant district of the entire province the sheath of her sword in its usual place at her right hip, but her battered armor breastplate was tucked under an arm, pinned to her side.

Her semblance, usually unmarked by emotion, betrayed a scowl of annoyance, enough of an indication that Mekareh should keep quiet until they crossed into the market square past the impending gates.

The young girl idly looked around herself to occupy her fickle attention with anything as she shifted the heavy leather pouch she carried in her arms. She carefully glanced out the corner of her eye at her companion, seeing that the scowl still persisted on her features.

Not being able to suppress her curiosity, she burst into conversation. "Hey Kyouran, why do you have an angry expression? Don't you think the sakura are pretty? Don't you like to see the blossoms floating in the air and landing in the puddles? Father says that the sakura always remind him of mother, and that when they bloom, it's her saying hello from heaven," the green-eyed girl stated emphatically as she gazed up at her only friend.

Kyouran glanced sharply at her, the sun's rays flickering over the facets of her pendant and giving the onyx of her necklace a sheer polish. Mekareh cut off her next verbal spout. She directed her gaze to her striding sandaled feet with a sigh of sadness. Glancing at her sideways, the 5-year-old demon woman relented into conversation.

"The blossoms, I like. Traveling to this market is what I detest." They had just arrived before the gates, which were quickly pulled open as the entrance keepers instantly recognized the infamous figure.

As they both passed through, Mekareh noticed the nervous mannerisms of those who witnessed their arrival, and realized that the hushed tones and obvious glances were directed solely to Kyouran.

"Is it because people look at you funny that you don't like coming to the market place?" was the young girl's inquiry as she noticed that the crowds of the main street were unanimously parting and giving way to both of them, not without directing wary glances at the stoned-face Demon Destroyer.

"That does not bother me. Being around such throngs of humans is almost suffocating." Kyouran stated apathetically as she directed her stride towards the metal division of the market, where she intended to get her armor repaired and the blade of her sword sharpened at the blacksmith's shop.

The heavy traffic of the crowds picked up as they passed, as did the hushed chatter, whether jeeringly or wearily pertained only of the cold figure of the Oni Hakaisha. She never directed her crimson gaze to her sides or behind her, solely focused before her.

"Mekareh. Go run your errands and meet me back at the blacksmith's shop. Don't take your time to wander. It would be most unpleasant for such a young human to be staggering alone through woods infested with demons, just because she was left behind for her tardiness." Kyouran stated in her dark tone and directed her full gaze upon the auburn-haired girl, who only smiled.

"You don't have to worry," she held up the leather pouch. "My only errand is to pay the blacksmith for the metal he gave to my father last month," she stated in her characteristic, warm timbre and added, "and I know you're not mean enough to leave me to get eaten by monsters. If you were that mean you would have let me drown."

Kyouran couldn't suppress her snicker as she adjusted the armor she held under her arm. "True, but you never know when I'll need a moving target for practice, huh kid," she remarked cynically and quirked her slender lips into a slight grin as she caught her pint-sized companion's pale, wide-eyed expression.

After traversing several streets and blocks of the grand market square, they both arrived at the metal division, where the bustle of the crowd was limited to robust and gruff looking metal workers who haggled over prices for tools and certain ores. The sector was also doted with the number of most taverns, which were at the moment filled with laughter, conversation, and the occasional scuffle.

This also was the sector that most amused and vexed Kyouran. Amuse because of the show of bravado that the men would put on at seeing her pass through, when in actuality, she could smell the fear saturating their perspiration instead of testosterone and vex because there would always be some drunken fool or other who would dare challenge her as if she was a lowly pretentious female. Needless to say, whatever male who did so and got away with only a broken arm was considered lucky to have retained said limb.

Kyouran's pace picked up as she headed towards the alleyway shortcut to the blacksmith's shop, inadvertently spooking a gossiping group of women who converged semi-obstructing her path. Her stride and cold expression never faltering, she cut her path between the hastily parting women, who poorly contained their scoffs and sneers from her sharp hearing.

Lagging behind, Mekareh began to jog after her companion as she balanced the heavy pouch in her arms in care of not dropping it. She too almost ran into the group of surly women, but wasn't even perceived as they began their torrent of jeers.

"Why that monster is let loose on the province I can never understand," a woman holding her grocery basket ground out.

"I'd take my chances any day over having to be shepherded like cattle by that demon," remarked frigidly the next woman.

Mekareh passed the group quietly, but still listened in. As she turned the corner she faintly made out the last remark of the heavy-set woman of the small group.

"And how she let that poor woman die— her brother is devastated…"

The remarks sunk in slowly. She adjusted the pouch and set her nimble feet to her fastest pace as she slipped between the crowds mingled all around the street. She expected to arrive just as Kyouran would be exiting the blacksmith's, but got surprised when she saw the familiar cascading mane of dark brown that was Kyouran's hair from behind as she stood in front of a humble bakery shop.

She dodged a merchant cart and made her way over to the tall figure. After making it to her side, she stared up at Kyouran, and then looked past the makeshift divider into the shop.

"Whatcha looking at, Kyouran?" brilliant green gazed back up at her once savior in curiosity.

Without taking her gaze off of the golden brown contents baking in the open oven, Kyouran answered with her own question. "What are those?"

"Huh?" Mekareh directed her bright gaze in the specified direction. "Oh, those are sweet dumplings! They're really good. The baker takes fruits like apples and wraps them in dough, then bakes them," she replied warmly as she smiled up at Kyouran.

"Hm. And how do they taste?" Kyouran asked in her soft tone as she looked down at Mekareh.

"Sweet!" was the sole chirped word in reply from the auburn-haired girl.

"What is 'sweet'?" inquired Kyouran and cocked her head, her crimson eyes betraying curiosity.

"You don't know what sweet is!?" balked the girl in awe. "Haven't you ever had candy, or chocolate or anything sweet?"

Kyouran furrowed her delicate eyebrows. "No."

Jaw dropped in surprise, Mekareh faced the divider and called into the shop. "Obaasan! Can I have some dumplings?" she beamed into the shop in an almost urgent tone.

"Is that Mekareh I hear already looking for sweets?" a kindly elderly voice sound in reply as a woman scuffed into the main room of the shop. Rummaging into her apron pocket, she pulled out a set of time-worn glasses and wiped them with the corner of her apron.

After adjusting them on the bridge of her nose, the woman began to smile, but instead gasped wide-eyed at the tall, red-eyed figure that stared back at her apathetically.

"Good morning, obaasan!" waved the small girl and smiled. "I was wondering if I could buy some dumplings. My friend has never eaten anything sweet and she wants to try some," Mekareh chirped enthusiastically as she leaned over the divider to put down the heavy pouch.

The woman managed to hide the shock on her face, but her trembling hands were all the indication needed to provide her current state. "Of course you can, and you're in luck—" she went over to the oven and got her heat-worn mittens, "these are the day's first batch," smiled the elderly woman as she placed the hot pan down and put the dumplings in a woven basket.

The sweet scent of baked dough and apples flooded the air, a pleasing sensation that was immediately noted by the demon priestess.

"Great! Can I have four? I want to save some to take back to father," indicated Mekareh warmly and the woman wrapped the requested amount as quickly as her shaking hands allowed.

"Here you are, dear." She was about to hand the wrapped pastries to a struggling Mekareh who searched for her small money bag tucked into her robes, when a sun-kissed, black-taloned hand was thrust in front of her in petition for the purchase.

Her nervousness showing after gazing at the cold crimson gaze of the woman, she handed the purchase quickly.

Kyouran expertly levitated the purchase as she dug into a discreet pouch cinched to her sash with her only free hand and poured a handful of coins on the counter of the divider. Then with a final glance, she took the purchase back into her free hand and turned on her heel to walk off.

The short pause was broken by Mekareh. "Hehe, guess I can save my money for the next time," she picked up the heavy leather pouch and started walking away after adding happily. "Bye obaasan, sorry that Kyouran didn't say hi or bye."

She quickly caught up with her companion, since she had noticeably slowed her pace. "These better be worth it, kid," grumbled Kyouran as she sneered at the pacing spectators that were too close for her convenience.

Mekareh smiled sheepishly and kept quiet as they finally arrived at the blacksmith's shop.

To her annoyance, there was no one at the front to attend her when she walked in, so she decided to take such time to lean against the wall after momentarily discarding her breastplate to the floor next to her. Mekareh stood in front of her, still fidgeting with the pouch. She rolled her eyes and took the pouch from her and put it to lean against the wall and breastplate.

"Now," she undid the knot and unwrapped the still warm sweet dumplings. "Let's see what the big deal is," she picked one of the pastries up and studied the golden-brown casing before sniffing it.

"Hehehehe! You remind me of a puppy when you do that," giggled Mekareh. After receiving I sharp glare, she instantly fell silent.

She took a bite and chewed slowly, her eyes squinting at the foreign taste that soared to her taste buds. After swallowing, she looked at the expectant look for her opinion she got from the green-eyed girl. "Hm."

"Well? Do you like it?"

Kyouran looked at the still remaining bite derisively, but popped it into her mouth after a shrug. She answered the inquiry with a quirt nod.

"Yay! I knew you'd like it," beamed Mekareh and smiled warmly. Kyouran grunted and handed her the purchase, which she had wrapped back up.

A side door was slid open and a considerably tall and stout young man with blazing blue eyes and messy black locks of hair entered, smiling broadly at having customers already. He walked over to the divider and got a closer look at the two customers he had, and his smile broadened.

"Well, hello there. What can I do for two lovely ladies this progressively fine morning?" the handsome new apprentice flashed a charismatic smile as he pushed his rogue bangs out of his face and leaned against the divider.

Kyouran raised a delicate eyebrow ,then looked down at Mekareh. She only received a childish giggle as answer to her inquiring glance.

Crossing her arms business-like, the infamous warrior gave the young man a once over. "Where's Korokawua?" she asked in her stoic tone as she pushed off the wall and looked at the shorter man.

"Oh, master Korokawua is taking his morning tea at the nearby game house, but I am sure I can be of service to you, miss…?" the dripping charm of his tone instantly irritated and confused Kyouran, who finally realized that the man didn't know of her.

Before she could answer, Mekareh interjected. "Her name is Kyouran and she came to get her breastplate repaired and sword sharpened!" She looked at Kyouran with a playful and knowing spark in her eye.

"Oh?" the young man took Kyouran's hand as he swiftly bowed in courting reverence. "Well I am Haku, and I find it surprising that such a radiant young lady could need such services as those," he finalized the gesture and remark by subtly kissing the back of her hand.

Mekareh giggled uncontrollably at Kyouran's aghast expression and at the tint of realization that stained her cheekbones. Snatching her hand back, she glowered down at the young man and was about to hoist him up by his labor-stained gi when the street door opened and a tall, robust middle-aged man with short, pepper-colored hair entered.

"Haku, I don't hear any work going on in here! You better not be oogling the market girls from the window again or—" the commanding/mock tone of the man faltered as he locked gaze with menacing red ones.

Stumbling to shut the door behind him, Korokawua began to sweat at the realization that of all the suicidal things he could do; he forgot the appointment that now glared sharply at him for his absence.

"Ky-Kyouran-san! I did not expect you so early in the day," Korokawua nervously spun out as he stood in front of the looming figure and bowed many times. "Please forgive my blunder! I hope that my new apprentice did not trouble or anger you, and if he did I will immediately reprimand"

"That's enough of your foolishness, old man. I do not intend to hear you babble," spat out Kyouran, cutting the man's rant off. She grabbed the handle of her sword and swiftly freed it from the sheath, causing Korokawua to gulp and flinch back. "I intend to get this dull blade sharpened and to leave my armor to be repaired."

She turned away from the increasingly sweating man and faced the divider, and began to open the shutter door to step into the work shop when the apprentice flanked her.

"Please miss, you needn't trouble yourself, that is what I am here for," he bowed and tried not to let his gaze wander to her hidden bust. "I would be honored to tend to your blade myself," he debonairly stated as he ran his fingers through his wayward bangs and pushed them back from his deep-blue eyes.

Kyouran grunted and looked back at the stuttering Korokawua who balked at his pupil's boldness. "I see your new apprentice beckons for a death wish, old man," she remarked snidely and turned towards the silent pint-sized spectator who looked on in awe. "Mekareh, wait out side. Even I'm not cruel enough as to let you witness any dismemberment," she stated wickedly.

"Please Kyouran-san! Forgive his stupidity, it's just he was dropped on his head as a child and does not know—" he cut himself off when she turned to glare at him.

Throughout the heated display, Mekareh made her way to the divider and pulled the young man's attention. "Psst, mister! Do you think Kyouran is pretty? Because if you do, you should try to be nice, not perverted if you want her not to get angry," she instructed in a hushed tone and made Haku grin, while in the background Korokawua bowed and ranted that he would render his services without charge as Kyouran rolled her eyes and told him to bite his tongue already.

"Just shut up before you piss me off any more than I already am!" she shouted and faced the young man. "You! If you can lift and hold up this sword, and manage to sharpen the blade yourself, I just might spare your insolence and not shatter your jaw," she stated gruffly and smirked as she held the handle away from her so that he could grip it.

Instead of seeing the flash of fear she expected in those blue pools, they blazed brighter with the prospect of completing the challenge, seeing as Haku enjoyed a woman who played hard-to-get, and he had heard his share of female threats in his 19 some-odd years of life, so hers were nothing new. He smiled ruggedly and gripped the handle with his right hand. As soon as Kyouran let go, he went crashing to the dirt floor from the sword's anchor-like weight.

"AIYAH! Haku, you blockhead! There is no way you can lift that sword— it weighs 115 pounds!" shouted Korokawua in a disgruntled tone as he rushed to loom over the struggling young man.

Kyouran scoffed in amusement and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed. "Pitiful. Such arrogance and you crumble like paper," she mused, but grunted when the resilient young man struggled up to stand, a warm grin plastered on his features as he managed to grip the handle with both hands and set the long blade to stand perpendicular to the ground. The front of his gi was smudged with his sweat and dirt and his arms were tense, tendons and muscle rippling from the task.

"Well—" he panted, "this is—an impressive weapon!" he paused to catch his breath, sweat breaking out over his brow and matting his wayward bangs to his sleek temples and forehead. "I've never seen—" he panted, "a double-edged blade—fixed to a katana handle," he squared his stance and pulled with all his upper body strength to bring the blade vertical with his posture, but the weight threatened to topple him backward, so he backed up until his back collided to rest with a support beam.

His tanned features began to flush from the exertion, but he still managed to flash a charismatic grin to a wide-eyed Kyouran.

"Wow! You're really strong, mister! No one has ever been able to lift Kyouran's sword except her, right Kyouran?" keenly stated Mekareh as she clapped her hands and glanced at Kyouran.

Korokawua wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed with relief that his young and naïve apprentice managed to hold up to the bet, so far he still had to somehow sharpen the blade.

Pushing off the counter, the dark-haired and crimson-eyed beauty walked over to where Haku tried to keep up the feat and stood to loom down at him.

"Don't worry, miss. Just getting my bearings— I'll have your blade sharp in a couple of minutes—" strained out Haku in as confident a tone he could muster, his shoulders and forearms trembling.

Her expression unreadable, Kyouran lifted his white-knuckled, griping fists and held them in her slender hand, the blade pointing straight up to the ceiling. "Impressive. None of your tendons have snapped apart," she remarked in her cool tone and took the sword from his faltering grip, his arms instantly falling to his sides and his back slumping in relief against the beam.

She turned away from him and went to the rolling rock used to sharpen the blades of swords and knives. She pressed the pedal that begun the mechanism of spinning the circular/donut-shaped rock and aligned the side of her blade to scrape against the rock, igniting sparks to scintillate and flutter in the air and die away before they even reached the ground.

Haku smiled at the unusual compliment as he rubbed a tense shoulder and tried to get rid of the strain in his wrists.

Korokawua came up beside him and slapped him upside the head. "You blockhead! You're lucky she spared you. Probably pitied such an ignorant and naïve fool!" he snapped in a low hushed tone.

"Ow sensei! Why would such a gorgeous girl pity me?" grumbled in a juvenile tone Haku as he rubbed the side of his head.

Korokaua slapped his palm on his forehead and dragged it down his face, trying not to fly off the handle on his somewhat dense pupil. Just as he was about to scold him about paying more attention to the sayings around the province instead of visually molesting the young village girls that bathed in the nearby hot springs, he was cut off by an enthusiastic Mekareh.

"Mr. Korokawua? I brought my father's payment for the metal you gave him last month," eagerly stated Mekareh as she held up the leather pouch she had been lugging the whole morning.

"Oh yes, yes! With all this excitement I hardly noticed you, Mekareh," affably replied Korokawua as he patted her on her head and took the pouch. "And how is " Kakyo the True" holding up these days?"

Kyouran rolled her eyes from her position and flipped the blade to the other side to be sharpened, the scraping sound carrying loudly in the small shop.

"He's fine— he said he was sorry he couldn't come in person, but that he had official business to attend to in a village far from the province. He comes back this afternoon."

"Ah, that Kakyo. So dedicated. He never takes a break," mused Korokawua as he opened the pouch and took the payment, leaving a dozen coins in it as he handed it back to Mekareh.

"Mr. Korokawua, you left some money in the pouch," Mekareh pointed out after seeing that the pouch was still full.

"Hahah, such an honest girl," he chuckled heavily as he patted her head once more. "That father of yours always overpays, and anyway, he's a loyal friend, so take that and buy whatever you want with it, ok?"

Mekareh's green eyes brightened instantly. "Wow, thank you!" She chimed happily as she took the still wrapped pastries and placed them in the pouch along with the coins.

"Don't mention it," his pleasant mirth dissipated as he caught sight of Haku trying to lift the armor breastplate from the floor by the wall. "Boy! If you had such a hard time with that sword, how do you think you'll do trying to lift a 200 pound breastplate!" scolded Korokawua as he frowned at his apprentice.

"Why are her sword and armor so heavy?" inquired Haku, blazing blue eyes wide with incredulity.

The scraping and the grumbling spinning of the rock and it's mechanism slowly churned to a stop as Kyouran turned around with her newly sharpened sword, the rays of approaching midday playing off the blade in warm strips and gleams as they seeped through the cracks of the roof and the window shutters.

"Because they help me train my body to be faster and more precise," she answered apathetically as she sheathed her sword.

"Exactly. It takes four of us just to repair that armor— two to hold it up while the other two adjust and repair it," added Korokawua as he made way for Kyouran to walk past him and go to the armor. "Needless to say this week is gonna be a long one."

"Unfortunately, you only have 48 hours to repair it and have it ready for me, so it's inconsequential how the rest of your week will be," stated Kyouran as she picked the breastplate up effortlessly and handed it to Haku who held it to his chest and wobbled to keep his balance.

"Four-forty eight—" stuttered Korokawua.

"Yes. I need it in the next 48 hours. I'm taking a pilgrimage out of the country," she replied and pressed her hand on Haku's shoulder just in time to prevent him from falling over, and balanced his posture by shoving him a little to the left.

"Where are you going, Kyouran?" asked Mekareh in her worried tone as she walked over and gazed up at her.

"North," was the only response offered.

"But 48 hours is impossible! And then on such short notice—" he gulped as he caught himself. "I-I mean, well—"

Kyouran silenced him with a searing glance, then stalked over to the door. "Do as you please, then. The next time your home is attacked by Shioy demons just might be too short of notice for me to act," she remarked coldly as she looked back at him.

"Oh no, it's my mistake— we'll have it repaired in 2 days exactly, Kyouran-san!" offered immediately Korokawua as he nervously gulped.

"Good. You'll receive your payment then," Kyouran stated and looked to Mekareh. "Lets go, kid."

"Bye, Mr. Korokawua!" Mekareh chimed and hugged the man, who patted her head. "Bye, Mr. Haku," she leaned up and tugged on his gi for him to lean down closer. Awkwardly adjusting the heavy breastplate as to leant a little closer, Haku offered his ear. "I think she likes you. She didn't call you a weak human or a stupid mammal. You might have a chance to ask her out sometime when she's in a better mood," whispered Mekareh factually in Haku's ear, earning a warm chuckle and smile from the young man.

"Heheh, thanks for the advice, kid," was his friendly reply as he stood up and adjusted the weight of the armor in his arms.

"Mekareh! Let's go, or find your own way back."

"Eeek, coming!" Mekareh waved goodbye from the open door and stepped out carrying the pouch.

"Korokawua, for future reference, I suggest you explain to your apprentice how close he came to losing his jaw, and catalog the event with any future weakling you hire," remarked Kyouran haughtily to the blacksmith, then stepped out.

Korokawua thanked every god he could mentally remember and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his labor-dingy sleeve, while Haku stood and watched the odd pair of friends walk from the shop's vicinity.

"Such a hot girl— ACK!" Haku mused out loud and went to lean back against the wall, and instead fell back and hit his head against the lower wooden frame of a support, thanks to the daunting weight of the armor he still held.

Korokawua slapped his palm on his forehead and slid it down his face as he shook his head in pity. "Baka!"


They had left the general vicinity of the shop when Mekareh looked over at a stone-faced Kyouran.

"Wasn't Haku a nice guy?" Mekareh's tone was coy for an 8 year old.

Glancing at her sideways, Kyouran frowned. "He was weird. Maybe the old man was right and that guy was dropped on his head as a child," offered Kyouran in a flat tone.

Mekareh giggled at her friend's logic and countered. "He wasn't weirdhe just liked you and thought you were pretty!"

A sweatdropped appeared on the demon priestess's head as she halted in her stride. "Nani?" Kyouran looked at the young girl with masked shock.

"Hahah, that's why he was trying his hardest to prove he could rise to your challenge, because he wanted to impress you and he did," remarked keenly Mekareh.

"That stupid human did not impress me!" she ground out as she started to walk.

"But you said "impressive" when he lifted the sword. C'mon, say that you at least thought he was cute he had nice big blue eyes," Mekareh chirped eagerly as she skipped by her side.

"I don't think anything is…cute. True, I did say that it was impressive, but out of sarcasm," she offered dismissively.

"Aw, c'mon Kyouran. Haven't you ever liked a boy?" Mekareh asked suspiciously.

Kyouran paused in pace. Startled by her halt, Mekareh ran back to Kyouran with concern on her pale features. Looking off to the North, Kyouran's countenance was settled into her iron semblance, but her crimson eyes were softer, as if something sad had just nudged her recollection.

Mekareh had never seen that expression in her eyes and she got confused. "I'm sorry if I made you sad, Kyouran," she offered soberly and looked in the direction her friend faced. "Is there someone you're going to visit when you leave?"

The question roused Kyouran from her memories, and she looked to the somber look in Mekareh's usually brilliant eyes. "No. I need to go because it is required of me, nothing more," she replied stoically and resumed her pace, and so did Mekareh.

"How long will you be gone?"

Once again she stopped, and turned to face the owner of the sad voice. "A week." The small girl nodded in understanding, but still retained her sad expression. "I do plan on returning, kid. Who else would keep those demons from slaughtering you weak humans," when Mekareh looked up at her, she saw the rare smile that she could not help but smile back too.

They walked side-by-side into the alleyway, Mekareh musing out loud what she should get with the coins left over in her pouch, while Kyouran noticed the heavy tension that clung around her. After passing the corner from the alleyway, she could see that the crowds also sensed the tension, or else expected it. The glances and looks were definitely expecting some course of action.

The hushed murmurs of conversation had the inflection of worry, but of need for what was to occur.

As they passed a crafts shop, she noticed the source. Across from the shop was a grungy tavern filled with a group of men who conversed in heated slurs, but one in particular seemed familiar, at least she noticed that these brown orbs weren't blank, but filled with conflict and devastation.

Almost at once the men hushed and the general spectators of the group's conversation whispered to one another after seeing her.

"She let his sister die…"

"He had been sick that day, so she went to the market in his place. So awful…"

"Poor man held her broken body and cried. They had to pull him away from her just to give her a quick burial…"

"Ichiro, just let it pass. Don't do something that will lead you to end up like Ayah…"

The man pulled his arm away from the grip and stepped forward. He was clearly intoxicated, and had been for weeks since the burial.

Kyouran's apathetic gaze did nothing to mask the coldness of her crimson eyes. Feeling wary from the harsh coldness, Mekareh held the pouch closer to herself.

"What's wrong with everyone?" she whispered to herself. When Kyouran began to walk away without a second glance, Mekareh followed her at her side.

"Have you nothing to say, you demon?"

Mekareh flinched from the harshness that even the slur created by his drunkenness could not repress. Kyouran paused in her pace and looked back at the man, who was pushing away those who tried to stop him.

"She was my only family! We're nothing to you just dispensable animals," he paused as he stumbled forward. "You're soulless! Life doesn't mean anything to you if it's not your own!"

Unflickering orbs of fire held no expression, neither did her stoic, sun-kissed mask.

All was somberly hushed, everyone who witnessed were frozen in their place, too afraid to move in risk of provoking the inevitable. The man dug into the pockets of his tattered farmer's vest.

"You're worse than any of the demons that tear our villages apart!" was his strained shout as he pulled something free from his pocket and threw it to Kyouran's black leather boots. "They don't have the cruelty of tossing jewels to one's feet after they kill a person!"

Mekareh trembled as she stared at the discarded pouch that lay by Kyouran's feet. She didn't understand, she just felt the man's hate saturate everyone around her, but no one did anything to stop it.

Kyouran did not acknowledge the pouch, but did set her intensely stoic eyes of crimson on the man throughout his rage-filled tirade.

The rage was radiating from the man's every move, every breath. "Have you nothing to say to meto us!? What have you to say to my murdered sister?" he shouted in a strained roar, his brown eyes filling with angry tears.

The demon priestess warrior's eyes grew cold, as did the intensity of her gaze. She turned away from the man and started to walk away, not acknowledging the sharp intake of incredulity that all there suffered from her apathetic audacity.

Mekareh mechanically followed her from behind, still clutching the pouch to herself.

The man raged. "Can you not have the decency to face me? Oni Kyouran!"

The fist-sized rock halted in midair only inches from the left side of her face. The fearful hush choked over the crowd as Kyouran turned her gaze of unflickering fire back to the man, who clenched his jaw with conflicting emotions. She turned her frame to face his direction, her gaze boring into him as she calmly snatched the rock from where it floated and began to stalk over to the man.

The fear overpowering his rage, he backed up and stumbled over his feet, almost tripping, but instead bumped into a person who quickly separated from him. So did everyone until he was left alone to run back first into a support beam of the outer foundation of the tavern.

The midday sun bounced off the silver and onyx of the handle on her sheathed sword and gave her garnet stone an eerie twinkle as she stood in front of the drunken and trembling man. She leaned over to be at eye level with him, causing her pendant to swing and hang. She still gripped the rock in her hand.

"Your sister was better off dying, human," she hissed out acidly. The man bumped his head on the wooden support from the flinch that coursed through him.

"Hackhri demon. They need host bodies in order to reproduce. They plant a parasite in the host's body that lays eggs, and they keep the host alive until the offspring hatch and tear through the host's chest. Your sister was a choice candidate for them to use as a host."

Silence.

"Even if I did value human life, I still would have not let it take your sister so it could reproduce after I wiped out the rest of its pack, at least I wouldn't let it take her alive," her tone turned the blood in their veins cold, her apathetic expression betrayed no regret.

She stood to her imposing height and gazed around to the faces of all that witnessed. "I do not negotiate with demons for anything, so if you are taken as collateral then you know now to pray for death, because what they'll do to you is far worse."

She paused and looked at the rock she still gripped in her hand. Facing the man again, she held the rock in front of her. "Just like a human to throw a rock at one's back," the venom leaked from her tone. She lightly squeezed the rock in her vice-like grip and turned it into hundreds of diminutive pebbles and dust.

The man whimpered and sunk to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Kyouran turned back around and made sure that all had her attention with the piercing glare she gave.

"All who think you are treated like cattle and that I am your unwilling shepherd you are correct. I, a demon to your standards, loathe the human race, but protect it from slaughter."

Tense silence.

"Satisfy yourselves with the consideration that I could instead wipe all of you off the face of the Earth, not to mention truly enjoy doing so."

Everything stated by the fierce figure was done so in a calm monotone, her gaze directed to all there, except for one.

Mekareh stood rooted in her place. She had never heard it said by Kyouran, but her father had always told her had always warned her of her instincts against the race she was put to protect.

Feeling the weight of the pouch lift from her arms, she snapped her attention back to reality.

Kyouran flung the pouch under an arm and pinned it to place as she turned and began to walk to the way they came in, anyone in her path moving out of it immediately. She paused and looked back at Mekareh with her cool gaze.

She understood the look and ran to be at her side. They walked through the parting crowds in silence all the way to the great gates.

After exiting the district and reemerging on the beaten path flanked by the sakura on either side, Mekareh raised her gaze to ask the question that had been plaguing her, but she was beaten to the punch.

"I've killed many demons, and have also let many humans die when they got caught in the middle. That human's sister was one of them," was Kyouran's dejected answer to the unuttered question.

Mekareh bowed her head somberly as they walked. "Did you ever feel sad for them?"

Kyouran sighed through her nose and closed her eyes. She traced the facets of the garnet incased in her onyx pendant.

"I do not pity or grieve what I hate."

The morning's cool comforting breeze had died away, emerging as a breathless chill that extinguished the melodious chirping once over head. The pale-pink snowflake-like petals fell lifeless to the ground, ignored by the dimmed green spheres that now only contemplated the alabaster robe and the flow of dark brown locks as the apathetic figure strode towards the grand intersection of villages. Mekareh somberly followed the afternoon rays advanced over her, as did the splendidly blue sky."


THANKS FOR READING AND PLEASE REVIEW!

Definitions:

Oni- Demon

Hakaisha- Destroyer

Obaasan- grandmother (symbolically speaking in the chapter)

Black Tailed Saiyaness: Glad you liked the chapter! It was a real bitch to get out.

Anasazi Darkmoon: (picks the confetti out of her hair) Well, can't say as of yet whether your deduction is on the money or not, so I guess you'll see eventually.

Cyndi: Really happy you liked that part! Hope you dig this chapter, even though it veers off the disgruntled two-sum to focus on Kyouran and all.

The Ace of Authors: I know lately the chapters have been gargantuan, s'just goes with my tedious nature. Considering that this was supposed to be only a small part to what I had originally planned, I simply had to cut the chapter in half. Hope you like this one!

SexySayainSakura: That was the general plan I had when I came up with the idea for the story! Really happy that you like it and that you find Sofia to be a viable character! Hope you read on!

Yasha the Shadow Keeper: So stoked that you read the whole thing so far and that you reviewed almost each chapter! I really hope you keep enjoying the fic!

MutantGirlForever: You're the kind of reviewer I've always wanted to have (glomps and hugs). Hope you like this chapter and continue to stick around and review.

Lady Vamp1: (offers rope and a handkerchief) can't ravage the Namek without having him bound and gagged first. Thanks for the review and I hope you keep reading on.

Agent Yeti: Hold off on the smiting and review on whether you liked the chapter.

TiffyAngel: LOL. TRUE THAT, PUERCA! Now, told you this would be the chapter for the (winkwink), but of course I went overboard and got more than I expected. Next chapter will definitely be it, though!

Filteredlight: Yay! Someone likes that my chapters are long as Hell! (huggles) Thanks so much for the review and I hope you enjoy the rest to come.