Thank you guys so very much for the reviews! I know how I feel when I start reading something and want it to be updated, so I can tell you I will at least try to update this once or twice a week. It should start getting pretty interesting in the next chapter or two (and I do keep tormenting poor Kantarou-it's out of love though) regarding Kantarou's past.
Love more reviews-they give me the power to write more quickly :-D
Oh, I don't own Tactics or the characters-it's just wishful thinking.
Although the fat old monk was trying to set a hard pace back through the forest, he obviously wasn't in peak physical condition, so Kantarou was able to catch his breath again. Even if everyone else in the village was afraid to come in this far without a good reason, he found it soothing to his senses. Then again, part of the reason was likely that everyone else gave the ancient trees a wide berth. For someone like him, who preferred the company of spirits and youkai, it was more of a home than where he slept at night. His thin body shivered a little as the chilly evening air easily slipped through the light robe he was wearing.
Haruka and Kantarou's older self watched from the boy's eyes as their line of sight shifted to focus on a small, barely noticeable side trail hidden next to a pair of oddly shaped boulders. The older Kantarou knew that if they took that trail, they would come to an abandoned temple with a small shrine. The structures were so old that even the old hermit who had lived there hadn't remembered what they were there for, but he had been more than willing to teach a lonely child about the forest youkai. He had also sensed Kantarou's powers, and had been the first person to teach him how to control it-how to use it when he wanted to, and more importantly as he grew older and finally caught his family's attention, how to prevent it from escaping or running wild. Both of the watchers felt the boy's sadness as his eyes lingered briefly on the fading trail as they walked past it, although Haruka didn't understand what the feeling was for.
Kantarou remembered that the old man had probably already been dead for a year or two at the time shown in this memory, but when he had been this age he had missed the gruff old hermit badly. Even though his teaching had been harsh, he had been kind in his own way to the odd boy that was used to being shunned or tormented by the villagers. A sharp pain in his shoulder as the younger man's arm was roughly jerked again brought his thoughts again to why he was reliving this particular memory. He normally had an excellent memory-he would be a pretty sorry scholar without it. It made him feel that he must have had good reasons for forgetting or subconsciously smothering this seemingly small and unpleasant part of his life. Ugh….why can't I ever relive any good memories? This is definitely going in a direction that I think I'd rather not remember.
The light was fading into the sort of crystalline clarity of twilight that only occurs when winter is well on its way, and the younger boy's body was growing numb with cold by the time they reached the village outskirts nestled against the feet of the pine stand. He couldn't feel his feet anymore, but it was the least of his worries as he saw the lanterns blazing merrily outside of the Ichinomiya family's ancestral home. This time of the evening was often the busiest in the household for those of the family with spiritual powers-it was when most of the villagers made their requests and prayers. In this village, spells were considered to be best done at the shift between day and night. There were of course, some things that were only done in the dead of complete night, but often the villagers didn't know about the darker forms of power that were wielded by the same family they turned to for protection against evil.
A violent shudder ran through Kantarou's body suddenly, and both men watching from his eyes could see what caused his reaction. Several tall figures, clad in formal exorcist regalia down to the imposing tall caps were standing at the entrance to the temple section of the compound, obviously waiting for them. They couldn't make out faces in the fading light, but the young Kantarou obviously knew who they were in this memory. They felt him try to dig his heels into the ground instinctively, and his muscles tensed as he seemed ready to bolt away. The rough hands still holding his arm in a bruising grip tightened and then shoved him hard towards the group, making him lose his balance.
"Here-I found the little whelp in his usual hiding spot. It's not my place to decide, but it would benefit the boy to learn a little more discipline….this type only learns that from force. I'd be more than happy to help with that if this happens again." He sneered and then cuffed Kantarou's head, making him fall forward. "Behave yourself, brat. Even if you are useful, you can still be replaced. Wouldn't you like to see someone else in your place?"
The last words hit home-how could he wish the same sort of use he was put to on someone else? His feet were numb with the cold of the evening air, and he stumbled and fell heavily in front of the group, lantern light flickering across their robes and creating eerie patterns of shadow across their faces. The tallest figure stepped forward and looked down at him, the light revealing an aristocratic but cruel face. High cheekbones and a narrow nose and lips looked carved out of granite and equally cold. Haruka felt a shock as he noticed that some of those features were similar to Kantarou's own-although he felt his master's odd appearance was at least more appealing than this man's. Red eyes were much nicer to look at…like glass beads. But still…they shared the same cheekbones and sculpted features. Kantarou definitely was part of this family by blood, then. Why then do they treat him cruelly? Is it normal for this type of family to be harsh…or is it because of his appearance? Haruka wondered what use his master had been to the Ichinomiya family-his treatment seemed contrary to how a valuable asset to an old family like this one would be. Great…the mystery deepens. It looks like this is just going to give me more questions. The tengu tried to squash the irritation creeping up within him. He hated being a spectator, even if it was interesting to know what his master had been like when he was younger.
The man stared down into Kantarou's eyes, and then he casually lifted one arm and delivered a stinging slap that almost knocked the boy back down again.
"You knew we had a vital ceremony to perform today that required your participation. Consider this as very light punishment, considering we require you in good condition to be of use to us in this." Kantarou bit his lip hard, trying not to respond and get himself in deeper trouble. He couldn't keep a question from showing on his face as he looked back up, however. The tall exorcist's lips quirked in a cruel twist as he looked down.
"We require your powers as a channeler for this. Your spiritual powers will attract the youkai that we have discovered stalking near the village-it is quite powerful. It should be quite drawn to someone with your talents, and it will be of more use to us if we can capture it when it tries to possess or consume you than simply exorcising it. You'd prefer that, wouldn't you boy? I know you don't like it when we kill your little friends." He smiled in a paternal fashion that set Kantarou and his two (unknown) riders' teeth on edge.
They sensed a white-hot flash of rage that quickly faded into terror mixed with frustration as the younger man tried to think of a way to rebel, to prevent this, knowing that he couldn't do anything except go along for now. He couldn't let the Ichinomiya family get their hands on another child with abilities like his own-channeling was most common in children and teenagers, and it was extremely rare to find adults that still had the ability. It was unusual and an indicator of how strong he could be someday that he still had powerful spirit channeling abilities along with his high spiritual energy. He was used to harsh treatment from life-but most of the village children were not. He didn't like other humans very much, but he didn't wish harm on them. Most of them, anyway-the fat monk had crossed his mind in vindictive dreams on more than one occasion.
"Well? Kantarou….answer me. I trust we will see you take your responsibility to this family seriously this time, hmm?" Kantarou dropped his eyes, and let his shoulders sag, the fight going out of him for the time being. Haruka felt another shock at the boy's next words. How the hell had Kantarou turned into his current overbearing and manipulative form from this seemingly sensitive and obedient child?
"Yes….I will, Uncle. Please forgive my behavior. You know I am grateful to be allowed as a member of this family in my mother's place."
His uncle allowed a small smile to grace his lips, and then put a cold hand on Kantarou's unkempt silver hair. The boy trembled a little in automatic revulsion, but forced himself to stay still. The other man let his gaze move over the younger man's frame, taking in the condition of his body and clothing.
"You will get new robes for this job at least, Kantarou. We will have two weeks until the next auspicious time for this particular ceremony, thanks to your absence tonight. Actually, I should thank you-it is a better date than today was. There will be a blood moon that night, so all of our powers should be amplified. This means there is time for you to get into better condition. You can at least look like part of the family for this one as well." His smile grew predatory, reminding Kantarou of why he didn't trust other people. There was definitely something about this ceremony that he was not going to like. He had a bad feeling. His uncle had neglected to mention that youkai powers were affected even more strongly by the moon's influences-a blood-red full moon would amplify a youkai's malignant energy much more than it would help supposedly Buddhist exorcists such as those in the Ichinominya family line.
Well, this makes me remember that I've always sucked at listening to my intuition, then-even while young. If I was smarter I would have just run away to the forest. Kantarou felt the younger version of himself sigh and then his body's exhaustion dragged over both Haruka and the exorcist's minds as well. He painfully hauled himself to his feet, and noticing they were scraped and bleeding in a few places from the long trek down from the forest, decided to at least bathe. Even if he felt dirty every time he came into contact with his uncle (and the other members of his so-called family), he could still at least control how physically clean he was. Even knowing he was still considered a child, he felt that he would always be stained in some way from the life he was living right now.
Both of the spectators in the memory shivered along with him as he quickly drew a cold bath to avoid any further notice, and then slipped on another ragged robe to sleep in. Haruka watched with interest as the boy slipped silently from the bathing rooms through several opulent corridors lit with expensive scented lanterns before turning into a smaller set of hallways set with sliding doors. They looked like servants' quarters, and his hunch proved right when Kantarou slid open one of the shogi doors and revealed a cramped room. A few old books were scattered across the floor, all dedicated to youkai, and a single bracelet was placed on the small wooden desk at one corner of the room, next to the painting of a woman. He couldn't see the painting well enough as the boy turned his head to look around the room. Haruka thought that the bracelet looked familiar, and deduced with a mental leap that it was the same one (or identical to) that his master wore around his wrist now. It was strange not to see it nestled against Kantarou's skin-the man he knew now never removed it, even when sleeping. His heart throbbed once when he noticed the most battered looking of the books (the most obviously used) was open to a painting of what was obviously meant to be an ogre-eating tengu. Kantarou really had wanted to meet him for most of his life-it felt strange to Haruka. He wondered if the exorcist would have ever sought him out if he hadn't had such a strange upbringing.
Both Haruka and Kantarou felt themselves falling slowly back into darkness as the younger man's eyes slid closed in exhaustion-and they all slept. Although only the older Kantarou knew what would happen to his younger self in the very near future, all three felt the same foreboding pervade their dreams and sent restless nightmares chasing them through sleep and awareness.
Kantarou himself was frightened of remembering what had happened during the blood-moon ceremony-he knew that it had something vital to do with what had happened to him and Haruka in the now. Now he had to relive it to find out what exactly had happened to him-and to his family and village.