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. So much wishful thinking.
Being trapped in someone else's memories was…disorienting, to say the least. Even for the owner of said memories. Kantarou and Haruka were snapped suddenly back into awareness, and found themselves blinking through a sleepy pair of eyes up at a scowling face seamed with lines, crows-feet pinching the corners of drooping eyelids. They would have both jumped at the rapid transition in point of view if they had been able.
"Waah!" the younger Kantarou jolted into a sitting position, nearly striking the other person in the face. The two men watching through his eyes felt his heart hammering against his thin chest. Haruka would have snorted if he could have. This was at least still part of the master that he was familiar with. A rap on the boy's head with a rough fist brought him to complete alertness, and he quickly settled to his knees and bowed in apology to the person responsible for waking them up.
"I'm sorry, Elder Aunt…I didn't mean to sleep so late…," Haruka felt a tingle of interest as his line of sight settled on the elderly woman's face again from the floor. The lines on her face didn't seem to be the result of a bad temperament, which was more than he could say for the other members of the Ichinomiya family he had seen so far. She sighed and her mouth quirked into a brief smile, before resuming its solemn expression. Her silver hair reminded him of Kantarou himself, although in her case it was from age.
"I heard that you were brought in late last night…and that you missed another ritual by the head priests. You know better than anyone that you are only here on sufferance, Kantarou. They really will be more than happy to replace you with another child if they need to….and I know you don't want that." She put one rough hand on the young man's silver hair and tousled it gently to soften her scolding words. "I know it isn't fair, but it's the only life you have available to you. Where else would you go? I'm sure your mother had her reasons for leaving you here with us like this. After all, she is my niece as well."
Kantarou and Haruka both felt the youngster's body tense a little at her words, and then his shoulders slumped as he sighed. She rapped him on the head again with a gnarled fist before rising creakily to her knees, smoothing the plain kimono free of smudges of dust and ink.
"They would probably treat you better if you just did what you were supposed to, Kantarou. In another five years you could be a fully-fledged exorcist of the Ichinimiya family."
The young Kantarou bit his lip to prevent a reply from escaping. How could he tell anyone in this household how he felt about the thought of becoming an exorcist or priest like his uncles or so-called cousins? Youkai were the only creatures he could talk to-it disgusted him to be forced to participate in seeking out and destroying them even when they did no harm. And…he didn't like channeling.
Many spirits were benign, and being able to communicate with them was undoubtedly useful…but the ones he was often forced to lure out or channel when working with the priests were powerful, rage-filled entities. It was terrifying to lose control of his body, and he had started to worry that he would have to be destroyed himself if he was possessed deeply enough.
Even as a boy he had no illusions about the costs of having strong spiritual powers-especially without formal training. The training was honestly one of the other big reasons he hadn't run away yet-sleeping in a forest was more appealing than living in this house.
His great-aunt took his silence as contrition on his truant behavior, and patted his shoulder before shuffling towards the door.
"I think you have a lot on your young shoulders, but even your mother trusted that you could handle this, or she would have stayed here with you. We all recognize that you have unusually strong powers….so it is natural that the other priests and exorcists will be hard on you. They just want to make sure you have discipline. Work hard-I know you will make the family proud someday." With that, she left.
The adult Kantarou felt the familiar sadness and self-loathing welling up within him. He hadn't even tried to get anyone to understand him in that household, he realized. Perhaps someone would have cared for him if he had tried harder….but no. His great-aunt was effectively one of the matriarchs of the house, so no one would dare go against her if she wanted to take time to be nice to the bastard child that everyone else scorned. Perhaps they thought it was out of pity, although he knew better.
Looking back at this memory, he regretted it now. That had been one of the last times he had talked to his great-aunt….really, it was one of the last times he had spoken to anyone in the household. Great….being trapped in this memory is making me remember things I really didn't want to…although it ended up better that I had no attachments, in the end.
Once she left, Haruka and Kantarou watched as the younger man shook himself out of thought and shuffled over to the small writing desk, focusing on the picture that Haruka had been trying to get a glimpse of the night before.
A pair of young women, perhaps still in their teens, posed in matching kimonos with the Ichinomiya family crest on them. What caught Haruka's undivided attention was that one of them looked so very much like Kantarou-if Kantarou had been born a girl. There was no question that this must have been his mother-only the dark tint of the black-and-white image indicated that their coloring differed. Otherwise, the exorcist looked like a (slightly) masculine copy of his mother.
The boy's body sighed, and then the eyes turned to the bracelet glinting faintly in the dim light of the room as it sat next to the image. Kantarou remembered all over again how it had been the only thing his so-called mother had left with him when she abandoned him. He still felt the same cascade of negative and positive emotions thinking about her now that he knew his younger self was feeling in this memory as he examined the jewelry closely, pressing his fingers against the cool metal.
A shiver of apprehension crept up the boy's spine, and he clutched the bracelet tightly for a moment before loosening his hand. Although he didn't forgive his mother for leaving him to bear her punishment in the household alone, as a bastard child and as a channeler, he was still young enough to seek some connection between them.
A moment of thought passed, and he slowly slid the bracelet onto his thin wrist. The bells chimed gently and fell silent. He sighed-was he expecting something else to happen?-and then got to his feet and dressed in another set of thin and well-worn robes. Even if the head priest had gone light on his actual punishment, he still had to do the menial chores around the temple that would have normally gone to a servant.
It was another stigma of his uncertain parentage that he was forced to accept, even if the fault lay with the woman who had borne him. In the world's eyes, a bastard child, particularly one that looked as strange as he did compared to the other members of the family, was just as guilty of sin. In his case, more so since his appearance had meant the household had lost his mother's use as a marriage piece and as a powerful spiritualist in her own right.
The clatter of cooking sounds and voices raised in the hall outside roused him, and he hurried unobtrusively, head down, past priests and servants alike as he moved towards the main temple and his own chores. He was certain that at the very least he would get extra work for last night's truancy, and his expectations were rewarded-not in a good way.
Haruka and Kantarou were treated to a spectacularly boring and tiring day of menial chores, sprinkled with insults and small harassments thrown their host's way. Haruka was shocked again to see the man that he calls master today used to tolerate such treatment by acting submissive. It was no wonder that his Kantarou could guard what he is thinking so well-this place must have honed those skills to perfection. He was also surprised that his master had been accustomed to hard physical work-he had always wondered why the man went out of his way to avoid work. Seeing his family background made him understand Kantarou a little better.
Time passes differently when one relives memories-although both the exorcist and the tengu were seeing through the young Kantarou's eyes when he was awake, the time flowed so quickly it seemed to blur by. Kantarou remembered more clearly than ever why he had been so unhappy when he was growing up in the household, and Haruka learned more about the complexities that shaped the Kantarou that he knew.
Although their host didn't show signs of nerves, Kantarou had the advantage (or not) of knowing that the approaching blood moon ritual had altered the entire course of his life and he felt tension and a brooding foreknowledge creeping over his own thoughts. It was painful to see how innocent of the coming storm he had been, and to know just how much he would go through. The worst was that he couldn't remember the details-but he would have to watch through the boy-Kantarou's eyes instead.
He had already made the connection between the blood-moon ritual and the finale of the show. He didn't want to relive what happened that night. If he himself had forgotten it, then he had done so on purpose. Haruka didn't call him a tactician without reason-Kantarou could recall almost anything. If he forgot memories, it was because he wanted them to stay buried, where he didn't have to face them….and it was about to come flooding back.
Time had passed in its slippery way to both of the observers, and the morning of the last day had broken. Both men woke along with the boy from hearing a soft chiming and the feeling of thin metal trembling against his wrist. The young Kantarou brought it up to his face, wondering about the sound. A cold chill rose from the pit of his stomach to claw up his spine, sending goosebumps shivering along his body. He suddenly felt a strong foreboding, so strong he was tempted to just leave the house-no belongings or preparations-and it receded to a vague unease. He shrugged and passed it off to nerves about the upcoming ritual, and then quickly left the room to make his own required purification preparations for the night.
Kantarou wished that he could stop time or close his own eyes-anything to forget tonight. It was going to be a very long one.
Sorry for the boring chapter-we are getting into more action (finally!) next chapter. I apologize for taking so long-graduate school can have a pretty awkward schedule, but I've been writing again.
Thanks for the reviews guys! They really make the story keep going-although I promise I'll finish this one regardless.