Demon
"Father? Father, are you here?"
Junichi didn't want to yell as he passed through the main house. Tamotsu would surely hear it, and he was much too afraid to face him. But he knew that would happen eventually. His father would be livid. He would punish him. And as his son, he would have to accept the blame. He ascended the staircase with heavy feet. There was no desire to rush this sentencing. He'd probably never see the light of day ever again. Perhaps Tamao would be a nice peace offering; surely his father would be so smitten by her beauty he would forget his anger.
He sighed. Tamotsu was too honorable to fall into that kind of trap. Junichi was going to pay.
The bedroom at the end of the hall was near as he wandered along the second level. Although the building was dark, pale light was visible beneath the door. He was hoping he would find Kiyomi first. She would definitely defend him to his father. His hand trembled as he held the door handle. Random thoughts of dread flooded his brain as he slowly opened it, and he tiptoed inside of the room as quietly as he could.
His father was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head lowered. The slumped position hid his face beyond his hair, and the dim lamp only allowed him to see a faint outline of his body.
"Father?"
The man sitting on the bed lifted his head when he heard the whisper. Junichi was standing a few feet away from him before realizing he wasn't approaching Tamotsu. His auburn hair was thick and reached past his shoulders, and his dark eyes glared with a hint of hidden rage. The boy stepped back without realizing it, and as he stood from the bed his entire body shivered. He was familiar.
Too familiar.
Silence blanketed the room as his voice was choked in the shadow. Confusion set in rapidly as his hazel eyes widened, but the fear was meet with dark emptiness. The man didn't speak, and his blank expression was frightening.
"Demon," he whispered with terror and fell to his knees.
"You must be Junichi." He didn't seem to have heard the label or perhaps ignored it. "My name is Yoh."
There was no response.
"I'm sorry for scaring you," he said politely. "This place gets really dark at night."
Yoh held out his hand and smiled. Junichi's eyes darted to his fingers but quickly back to his face.
"Let me help you up."
His body was frozen against the floor, but he whimpered when Yoh walked closer. He grabbed the boy's shoulder then gently wrapped his arm around his waist as he pulled him up from the floor. Yoh grasped his hand for leverage, but when he stood him up he didn't release it.
"...What's wrong?"
Their hands were locked in a grip neither of them could remove. Junichi gawked at his chest with his mouth painfully agape, and tears streamed quickly down his eyes as the hazel brilliance quickly faded into blackness. Yoh couldn't pry his hand away, and after several moments he stopped trying. The room was lit suddenly as a few men entered holding small torches, and Kiyomi was in the center.
"Let him go!" she yelled as fear saturated her voice.
"I...can't," Yoh said weakly as he held on to the boy's shoulder.
Junichi took a large breath without blinking his eyes and after a short pause began screaming. Yoh struggled once more to unlatch his hand, but the screaming increased in volume. Kiyomi ran over to them as she attempted prying the palms apart, but they appeared to be stuck like glue. One of the men ran out of the room and returned after a brief moment with Tamotsu. When Kiyomi saw him enter she stepped away as he wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders from behind and whispered faintly into his ear.
"Release."
His arms fell limp immediately, and Yoh took a step back as the boy collapsed into his father's arms. He carried him out of the room without addressing Yoh's shock, and the men with the torches followed him. Yoh sat on the bed with his mouth agape and his heavy breathing filled the air. Kiyomi glared at him with narrowed eyes and clutched her hands into fists.
"I...don't understand what just happened," he said sadly. "What happened to him?"
"He met the man who killed his mother." She said it under her breath with a low growl.
"What?"
"I said he's just worn out. Junichi has a very unique immune system. Too much activity can cause his body to shut down."
Tamotsu was unable to repel the tears that filled his eyes as he carried the boy along the hallway. The men who accompanied him were spooked and didn't speak, and one of them opened a door that led into a smaller room. There was a thick mat woven from various plants that he placed his son delicately on top of, and he rolled up a towel he was given to place under his head. Junichi was still conscious, but he was staring at the ceiling with a ghostly pale demeanor, and his body shook violently from the trauma.
"Junichi," Tamotsu said softly while holding the boy's stomach with his hand. "Talk to me."
"Demon," he whimpered. "Demon...demon...demon."
"Junichi, what did you see? Tell me what you saw."
"Tamotsu, Sir," one of the men said reluctantly, "should we sedate him?"
"No," he answered sternly. "Leave us."
"But...Sir—"
"Wait outside!" His tone was bitter and fearful, a combination they never heard before.
They obeyed the command without enthusiasm. None of them wanted to leave the two alone. Before the last man walked out of the room he lit a lamp nearby then softly closed the door. The light was enough for Tamotsu to see his son's frightened expression more clearly, and his eyes were still black.
"Junichi," he pleaded, "can you hear me?"
"Demon...demon...demon." He seemed unable to say anything else.
Tamotsu tightly held his son's hand and rubbed his head with the other. The tattoo along his forearm glowed bright orange instead of the usual red. He knew this meant his son couldn't hear him for now. This was something he would need to wait out.
"You should rest, Asakura." Kiyomi's tone was calm, but Yoh sensed anger in her eyes.
"I'm sorry for attacking you earlier. I thought you were trying to—"
"There's no need. I shouldn't have been so vague."
She rolled her eyes at him, an action he didn't see, and began walking toward the door.
"I know you."
His brief statement stopped her movement, and she quietly held her breath without turning around.
"...from somewhere...don't I?"
"I think you're mistaken," she replied as calmly as possible. Her eyes were filling with tears, and she didn't want him to see that weakness.
"You wanted me to remember something." He stood from the bed. "You said that."
"No, I didn't. You must be very tired."
"You kissed me."
He was advancing, and she could feel it.
"It was a mistake. You're...mistaken...Asakura."
"It's Yoh. My name is Yoh."
"I know your name," she spat bitterly.
"I'm sorry," he said again. "You're so familiar to me. I don't know why."
"Rest," she said rudely and walked away. "Good night, Asakura."
He grabbed her arm before she could flee, and she slapped him hard in the face. Yoh held her wrists and pulled her close. She attempted to pull away, but his grip was strong and she rested her eyes on his neck.
"Let go of me," she growled.
"Be nice to me and I will."
It was an unexpected response, and she bitterly closed her eyes.
"I don't have to be nice. I'm warning you right now...let me go."
"Or what? You'll whine to your big sister? Such a crybaby...always running to Junko."
She jerked her arms from him roughly and backed away a few steps. Her irritated frown quickly diminished as she stared at him with frightened eyes. Yoh's expression was blank by comparison, and he slowly blinked his eyes.
"What did you say?" she whispered.
"I was trying to apologize," he replied after a long pause. "If I'm bothering you by being here, I can leave."
"You don't remember what you said." It was a statement of fact rather than a question.
He frowned but didn't speak.
"Rest, Asakura," she said wearily. "You need it."
Tamotsu was sitting on the floor with his legs folded beneath him as the door slowly opened. He was staring at his son who appeared to still be under a trance and bitterly closed his eyes when he heard the sound.
"I told you to wait outside."
"We're running out of time, Tamotsu."
His expression softened when she sat on the opposite side of the boy and gazed at him with tear-filled eyes.
"What do you mean?" he whispered.
"His memory is returning."
"Are you sure, Kiyomi?"
"He mentioned your wife."
Tamotsu glanced at the boy's face with defeat. "Junichi must have triggered it."
"How? How is that possible?"
"I don't know."
"So...stupid...and weak. Every one of you will fall."
Kiyomi was startled by the sinister voice. Tamotsu held Junichi's hand again and squeezed it.
"Junichi, it's your father. Tell me what you saw."
"Break them to pieces," he whispered. "Grind them to dust."
"What is he talking about, Tamotsu?" Kiyomi whimpered.
"Running is useless," he growled. "You won't get far."
"Junichi?" His father's voice faltered as he spoke.
"Shumei...save him for last. Crush his bones."
The boy closed his eyes as a sinister giggle released from his throat. Laughter filled the air as he lightly held his stomach with his free hand. Kiyomi held her breath and stared at Tamotsu whose eyes remained fixed on the boy in shock. His smile faded as quickly as it came when he reopened his eyes, and black orbs accompanied a malicious scowl.
"So small."
Hazel returned to his eyes, but he was only conscious for a moment before collapsing against the mat. Tamotsu released him as the silence clouded his thoughts, and Kiyomi jumped up from the floor.
"We have to abort this!" she shrieked.
"No." Tamotsu clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. "We can't!"
"Junichi is never wrong. You know he's never wrong!"
"Even if we do, they'll disobey our orders. Shumei will, at the very least. He wants this. Everyone wants this. We can't just...let that demon walk out of here."
"He will anyway. That's what the boy just said!"
The glow of Junichi's tattoo faded, increasing the darkness in the room, and Kiyomi rubbed her face with her hand.
"I want to avenge them just as much as you do, Tamotsu," she sighed, "but at what cost?"
"We knew this day would come, and we knew the fight would be nearly impossible. We can't...I can't let it go."
"Father?" Junichi whined softly but didn't immediately open his eyes.
"I'm here."
Kiyomi sat beside him and ran her fingers through the boy's hair.
"Save us," he moaned. "Save us from the demon."
He opened his eyes and blinked a few times while blankly staring at the ceiling. They sat silently staring at him. Tamotsu squeezed his hand, and Kiyomi's repetitive motion slowed as she rested her free hand against her knee.
"I don't want them to die." His eyes filled with tears. "They could be good people."
His words were confusing. Kiyomi stared at him with a frown.
"I don't understand what you mean, Son," Tamotsu said gravely. "Tell me what you mean."
"Pirika, Rutherfor, Matilda..." Junichi seemed to be reciting a list from memory. "...Jeanne, Anna, Zria, Meene, Marion, Kanna, Mei..."
"This vision is different," Tamotsu mumbled.
"We don't understand, Junichi," Kiyomi protested but was ignored.
"...Fudou, Nichrom, Marco, Luchist, Nemari, Chocolove, Johann, Thalim..."
"Who are these people?" Tamotsu blurted. "What are you saying?"
"Manta, Ren, Ryu..." The tears choked his voice into a terrified moan.
Kiyomi quietly held her breath as he paused.
"Hao's camp, maybe." Tamotsu tightly closed his eyes.
"What about Hao, Junichi?" Kiyomi asked softly.
"Father, you must save them from the demon." The question was ignored.
"Junichi...I can't."
The boy sat up very slowly, and Kiyomi held his back with her arm.
"You have to find a way. You can't let them die."
"Yoh is too powerful," he admitted bitterly. "I can't fight him alone."
"No," Junichi said with a frown. "You have to save them from the demon..."
"Junichi, I just said—"
"The demon child," he whimpered. "...Asakura Hana."
