The morning of the auspicious day for the ritual was cold and clear, but with a thin veil of dark grey clouds hiding the sun from view. The young Kantarou had woken up early, gripped with a strange foreboding that faded into a vague unease and curled uneasily in the pit of his stomach. He breathed deeply and told himself it was just his nerves making themselves felt before a complex ritual-channeling spirits, whether human or youkai, always held a risk.
His instincts were better than most (even if he didn't act on them most of the time), and he had always felt shivery and nervous before each of his past channeling experiences. Doing this as a child had had some advantages, since a child never really thought of things like risk or dying. But growing up…he had to start his preparations earlier and earlier just to settle his mind. He didn't think his life was worth much, particularly to his family except as a tool, but it was his, and he wanted to cling to it as long as possible.
Kantarou remembered the feeling of those long-forgotten fears as the younger version of himself tried to settle his mind and brace himself for the day ahead. They crept back into his awareness, and he wished again that he could at least his head to clear it from them.
There were several reasons why he no longer did mediumistic or channeling work as an adult, not least being the risk to his mind and body-but the biggest reason was probably related to what had happened to him during this particular ritual. Which he still couldn't remember-he was stuck watching and waiting this day out to see what exactly it was.
So many things could have gone wrong with the ritual for it to have ended the way it did…but no matter what happened I still know it was because of my presence. Maybe I was meant to die that day. He wondered briefly what Haruka would think of him if he knew his past-not realizing the other man was sharing the same memory alongside him.
The younger Kantarou forced his unease down to where he could (hopefully) ignore it. If he became distracted during the ritual, or if the spirit or youkai the ritual called was stronger than the channeler, there was a very real chance that his mind would be lost; overpowered and swept away by the stronger force-or even his body taken over. Worse things than these could happen to those with strong spiritual powers, but he tried not to think about it. He had always been strong enough…so far.
Perhaps that was one reason his mother had left him in her former place once she noticed he had similar powers. Maybe she wasn't strong enough to handle channeling powerful spirits….but still. What mother leaves her son, a child, behind to protect herself?
She still came back to the temple complex on important occasions, but beyond a few stolen peeks at her when she crossed his path (which was rare), they had no interaction with each other. He had always hoped she would look for him, at him if only for a second-but if anything her face was always cold and composed even when her eyes glanced off of him. Her eyes were a rich dark brown, nothing like her son's clear, bright red.
Really, why would she want to acknowledge him as hers when he looked the way he did? For all he knew, she might have used him to take her place in the hopes that some spirit or monster would take him back to the shadows everyone seemed to think he belonged in.
The boy tried to shake off the feelings before he began the required purification rituals for the night's ceremony. Channeling demanded both a pure body and pure, strong state of mind. Although he was used to the frigid water for bathing this time of the year, Kantarou and Haruka still seemed to feel the deep chill of it in his bones as they watched through his eyes, felt his pale skin tense and form defensive goosebumps.
A sharp herbal odor invaded the boy's nose as he rinsed himself off, sluicing icy water over his white hair, and Kantarou now remembered that he had often been required to use particular herbs when cleaning himself before channeling. These were believed to loosen the link between mind and body, making it easier for a spirit to find its way in-and easier to sever the mind from its owner.
Haruka only noticed the sharp bitter smell, which would have been even worse to his own sensitive nose, and made a mental note to ask Kantarou at some point why he would bathe just to make himself smell more pungent.
The day crawled by for Kantarou and Haruka as the younger man spent the majority of it by himself in a small chamber within the temple compound itself, eyes closed and breathing slowly. A passer-by would have had a difficult time observing any other movement. Haruka was amazed that his master had had enough discipline to spend an entire day fasting and meditating-the man he knew today only went without food when they didn't have money (although that happened often enough). He couldn't even imagine the man meditating for more than a few minutes before wheedling his way out of some work or trying to get Haruka to talk to him.
While Haruka thought about the oddities between his present master and the man's past self, Kantarou tried to emulate his younger self and relax into the familiar rituals, disliking them but finding an old comfort in the routine of what seemed now like a past life. It might as well have been.
He found himself increasingly torn between wishing he could just wake up to being almost curious about reliving this memory, finding out what had really happened to him the night he had received his scar-although it was the sort of morbid curiosity that compels men to explore terrors better left alone in dark rooms. He well knew it was the sort of curiosity that led to regrets afterward. But still… it wasn't like he could change any of the events that had occurred in the past.
Although the passing of time during the day had been forgotten, the soft tread of padded footsteps alerted the boy (and his observers), and his crimson eyes opened slowly, revealing fading light in the small temple cell. Dusk was already crawling its way over the sky, then. He didn't turn around for a moment, savoring the last few moments of calm. He knew it was likely one of his uncles, finally come to bring him for the trek to the ritual's location.
Tonight, it wouldn't be held on the temple grounds itself. It was considered too dangerous to be held near the family compound or close to the central portion of the village. No, tonight they would be trekking back up the very trail that he had been dragged down so recently, to the supposed protection of the cliff above the village, picketed by the ancient pine forest that loomed over their bowl of a valley.
He had mixed feelings about that-it felt more like his own territory, which made him feel a little stronger; but it also made him think about his old teacher and the old man's warnings about the youkai that lurked and sheltered within those trees.
It had taken them an entire week after the decision to hold the ritual to tell him the location it would be held at-the younger Kantarou and his two observers didn't fail to notice that the other priests and family members avoided contact with him after his last escape attempt. It could have just been the usual treatment to put someone like him in his 'rightful place' as someone of no consequence, but none of them thought so. It was more like they didn't want him to know what was going on around him, in case he tried to escape again.
Still, he would have noticed something going on regardless-he might have been terrible at following his intuition, but it didn't make him unobservant or stupid (he just made stupid decisions).
The villagers had been growing increasingly worried over the past two weeks-enough that even someone kept away from anything or anyone remotely important would have noticed that something was going on. Whispers and rumors spread through the household from the servants like the smoke before a wildfire, that a powerful and undeniably evil spirit or youkai was seen stalking along the village's borders, hiding in the shadows of the forest.
Although livestock had always been prone to disappearances in their valley, courtesy of predators and even roaming bandits (and the occasional small youkai), children had started disappearing in the past few weeks. The young man's thoughts turned dark as he remembered that last night one of the smaller families on the outskirts of the village had vanished, their home stripped effortlessly to shreds by something very obviously not human. Something just as obviously very strong. The servants had enjoyed a round of horrified gossip focusing on the fact that no whole remains of the family had been found-but the site had been spattered and misted in crimson.
Kantarou and Haruka could follow the younger boy's train of thought, and both felt their host give an unconscious shiver as the light dwindled and left only the hollow leaping of torches sparsely arranged along the temple hallway.
The feeling of foreboding from the young man grew stronger, and the older exorcist wished he could scream at his younger self to just listen to his intuition for once in his stupid life-it was obviously something he had long had issues with. He told himself he'd work on it if they ever got out of this mess. Unfortunately, he also knew what his younger self didn't and that his feelings of apprehension were going to be absolutely justified in tonight's ritual.
A dry voice, irritable and officious sounding, broke through the young Kantarou's thoughts and distracted his observers.
"Kantarou…it's time to move. We need you to go finish your final preparations. Come to the main temple courtyard when you are ready-there are a few last procedures that need to be done before leaving the grounds…for your own safety tonight, of course," the man added smoothly. Both versions of Kantarou marveled at how sincere his uncles could sound when they made an effort. It was a pity it was wasted on him. He knew that whatever else they did tonight, it surely wouldn't have any positive benefits for his own safety.
And still…as much as he hated the household and wished himself elsewhere, he wanted to help his village. Somewhere inside the young Kantarou still secretly hoped to be acknowledged or accepted into his family-using his powers to help protect the people in their village was the best he could do. A faint chime and a shiver on his wrist caught his eyes, and then the uncertainty and ominous feeling crept back over him.
Kantarou and Haruka knew the meaning of the bells singing on the bracelet, but both were helpless to do anything except watch through his eyes and catch glimmers of the younger man's thoughts and mood.
With a sigh that was internally echoed by his observers, the boy heaved himself to his feet, legs cramping and tingling slightly from the long hours spent kneeling and sitting in preparation just for…for what exactly? He still didn't really know, but he had already made his decision to try to stay in the household a little while longer. Perhaps things would change, and if he succeeded tonight his uncles would finally consider formally training him to be an exorcist of the family.
One more sigh lifted his thin chest up and down again, and then he trailed slowly out of the small chamber, his red eyes adjusting to the dim light of the torches spread across the temple's main hall.
The man who had called him had already disappeared, silently treading away to wherever the rest of the priests were waiting for him. The rest of his uncles would be included in the group, and he found himself hurrying his steps, automatically hoping to avoid causing himself any trouble from them later. He quickly found himself in a small chamber behind one of the large shrine rooms, screens set up for changing clothing or ritual cleansing.
The ceremonial robes he was supposed to wear were kept here in the temple itself, and he quickly stripped off his plain, well-worn robes and picked up the new regalia. There was really no other word for it-it seemed like he was intended to be used as very tempting, very visible bait to attract the youkai tonight.
The underrobe was crimson, with silver threads edging the sleeves and throat, and the overrobe was something he never would have picked out for himself…heavy white fabric patterned with crimson chrysanthemums, with additional silver threads woven throughout. It looked like metallic rain shining over the embroidered petals. It looked virtually guaranteed to glow in the dark, too. He was sure it wasn't a coincidence.
Both Kantarou and Haruka caught the younger boy's disgust towards the robes, and Kantarou wished briefly that he could have snickered out loud-his younger self had no idea he would enjoy wearing those sorts of flamboyant robes whenever he could in the future. Haruka was hoping that if everything worked out and they got out of this mess in one piece, he could turn the tables on his so-called master and tease him back when required.
They watched the boy struggle into the heavy robes, not used to wearing such rich clothes (yet)-and both enjoyed a last moment of amusement as he examined himself in a warped looking glass and then preened briefly. Haruka felt a little happier, just for the moment, as he saw the sort of Kantarou he was used to.
He was sometimes a vain master, for all of his complaining about his odd looks. The humor quickly faded as they watched the younger exorcist's expression turn nervous-making him look even younger than he already was-and then settle back into a composed mask. And then, there was no more time left.
Kantarou and Haruka saw their line of vision turn towards the direction of the main temple, dark and seeming almost alive in the night as torches shimmered and blurred in a line in front of the large ascending stairs towards the gaping mouth of the central altar. Then they were walking down and drawing closer, the temple feeling almost overwhelmingly like some predatory creature waiting for them to walk into its jaws.
Ugh…what is it with the creepy gates and entrances throughout this whole damned ordeal? Kantarou found himself thinking absently as he watched the main temple loom into his current line of sight. The eyes they were looking out of turned and then he saw one large fire set in one of the pits of the temple grounds to the side of the main building. The priests, his uncles included, were gathered around it in a rough circular pattern.
They all focused on the approaching youngster, and Kantarou felt himself trying to shrink back and cower instinctively at the scrutiny, although he knew he couldn't do anything. He didn't have any control over this body, after all. His younger self faltered slightly mid-step and then recovered quickly, walking forward firmly on legs that were trembling underneath the heavy clothes. The boy felt grateful for the first time for the weight of them-it felt almost like the stiff robes were holding him upright.
The firelight draw dark shadows and planes across the waiting men's faces, making them look like grim statues in formation around the blaze. The man closed to him gave him a curt nod, the light playing across his face and revealing him as the head priest of the temple-the oldest uncle. The younger man felt another cold chill trickle down his spine as he moved into the group of priests, a single bright spot of color against their sober ceremonial robes.
The head priest scrutinized him carefully, a permanent frown etched onto his lean features. "You at least look adequate for the ceremony." Kantarou's younger self bowed his head respectfully, although the observers in his head knew it was mocking. He kept his head down so that his hair shadowed his expression. The last thing he needed was for his uncles to find fault in him with something this important to the village.
The cold voice interrupted his beginning train of thought. "Kantarou…there is one last component to our preparations before we set out for the ceremony." The head priest smiled thinly down at the bowed head in front of him. No one saw the quick gleam of malice pass through his eyes.
"As you may have heard, tonight's ceremony will help us defeat and subjugate the youkai that has been terrorizing our village of late. The Ichinomiya family's powers will be stronger during the blood-moon, which is why we have waited this long-to ensure our success."
Kantarou's body twitched a little at the mention of the youkai, but he remained silent. Haruka and his older self wondered at the choice of words. The Ichinomiya family was supposedly a branch that followed Buddhist traditions-and powers used for peaceful purposes wouldn't be likely to increase during a time of negative energies such as a blood moon. Something seemed a bit twisted in the priests' approach to handling the supernatural, particularly a case where the entire village was being affected.
The head priest took the lack of response as a sign that the younger boy was listening. "We also have to take an extra set of precautions involving your role in this. You are the only person in the household who holds mediumistic abilities strong enough to attract and capture a high-level youkai through possession. We want you to allow yourself to be possessed by this creature-it will be easier for us to capture and control it if it is limited to a human vessel than if it remains in a spirit form." He paused and looked hard at the silver head in front of him.
"To do this successfully….we will need to bind your powers before leading you to the ceremony site so that once possessed, you do not lose control and become destructive. It would be a…great pity…for the family if we were forced to eliminate you. This is for your own protection as well as ours. Oh, and Kantarou…this isn't a choice." The priest raised his hands and quickly chanted under his breath, and before the younger man could complete a response his voice froze in his throat as his body suddenly locked up. He was paralyzed.
The head priest motioned one of the lesser priests (one of his cousins, this time, both Kantarous managed to note) forward out of the huddle of dark robes. The lesser priest carried a small square of heavy silk which he carefully unwrapped as he strode forward, revealing the silver shine of a ritual dagger. Without any hesitation the head priest picked it up and then reached out and gripped one of the young Kantarou's wrists, flipping it so that the soft underside faced upwards.
"Don't fret yourself, boy….this is just to ensure that we have control over your powers in case anything goes wrong. You should know that channeling and possession are dangerous…and I'm sure you wouldn't want to risk anyone in the village, would you?" The head priest smiled thinly and then sharply drew the blade against the boy's skin, leaving a red line behind. The blood beaded up and ran across the blade's surface, which began to glow a dull, sullen red. The priest chanted under his breath once more, and the glow intensified and surrounded the boy in a red halo before sinking closer to his skin and then disappearing. The blood had disappeared off of the blade's surface, leaving it cold and silver once more.
Motioning the lesser priest back over, he carefully re-wrapped the knife in the silk and then ordered it to be taken back into the temple.
The young Kantarou's body couldn't move, but he could still see what was in his line of vision. He couldn't control the question and unease in his eyes as he looked at the disappearing dagger and his oldest uncle's silhouette against the firelight. The older priest looked back at him coldly.
"That is a safeguard. It holds the power of your blood within it-we can use it to stop you or destroy you if need be. If you do your job properly tonight, we will not need to consider using it. I suggest you turn your thoughts towards how to keep yourself in control long enough to get the job done." He snapped his fingers together and the boy found his body moving without his own will, straightening up and turning to face the dark wall that was the forest.
I really don't like where this is going at all….why, oh why didn't I run away and live in the woods when I had a chance?, the older Kantarou thought as his eyesight turned unwillingly towards the woods. He was starting to be surprised that he had survived the combined machinations of his family and the youkai that had given him the scar…considering what the aftermath had been, he was shocked no one had killed him outright.
Haruka felt a mixture of rage and relief as he felt his (much younger) master's body move to face the forest. Sealing the boy's powers and then threatening to kill him if he failed to control the youkai's possession of himself seemed deliberately cruel. The Kantarou he knew today wouldn't allow anyone or anything to come to harm unless it was himself-he could feel the tension and anxiety thrumming through the younger version's body and mind. The only reason he felt relief was that at least the memory would finally culminate soon-and he at least knew that his master had survived this, regardless of how traumatic it might have been. The sooner they got through this, the sooner they could try to break free. Still…Haruka felt sorry that Kantarou had to relive this. It was hard on him to feel the younger Kantarou's thoughts and emotions and not be able to change the past-he knew it had to be much harder on the exorcist himself.
The circle of priests broke apart and they formed themselves into two lines, placing the younger boy in the front of the group. The head priest moved his fingers into a series of complex patterns, and the younger Kantarou found his feet moving forward as they all began walking out of the village and towards the dark opening of the forest.
The bells on his wrist began a tremulous chiming as they neared the edge of the treeline, sending a shiver down his spine. As the line of priests moved into the trees proper, their lanterns seemed to fade and shrink down, dwarfing the company in the presence of the ancient trees sighing overhead.
Although he couldn't control his own body, the young Kantarou suddenly felt a piercing chill run through him-he could sense the regard of something very alien. His anxiety settled into cold dread as he realized whatever it was had focused on him…and it was moving closer.