Act III


fragments


Hagoromo Kitsune was not an ayakashi that was to be taken lightly at any time. It was a fact she was well aware of. From her reputation alone it was assumed that such things as yokai not sincerely loyal to her would not even dare show her face.

It was not quite pleasing to notice that this may have changed over the last four hundred years.

Her devoted servants crowded around Minagoroshi Jizou as she ate her dinner, pressuring him for explanations on matters that apparently were unexplained. Hagoromo Kitsune did not pay them much attention for she had far more important things going through her mind.

(How could anything be more important than the loyalty of her servants to her, thus her baby?)

That yokai boy, that young one. Nura Rikuo, his name was. Nura Rihan, that boy's father apparently. Someone she had traded blows with this century.

Both were descendants of that vermin four hundred years ago. How could she ever forget that one's face? She had cursed him, loathed him, the mere thought of him made her blood boil. Yet when she recalled Nura Rikuo's features, so similar, she did not feel hate. She out to be despising his very existence, the very idea of him. And she did.

But when she remembered that face, round in youthfulness and (-onee-chanwho'reyouopenandsweet)

Pain built behind her eyes. She stopped eating.

(-onee-chanwho'reyou)

It was nothing too unusual to forget a day or two, such things happened. After all those days were irrelevant without her child in them.

(Child?-childofherandhimbeloved-who?)

"Minagoroshi Jizou," her voice said, and sudden deathly silence followed. Her chair scrapped over the floor as she stood and she was surprised to find balance deserting her. "Explain to me why that boy does not leave my mind, why you had better not lay a hand on him ever again." The words leaving her lips were not those she intended. However she distantly realized that they were true.

"Hagoromo Kitsune-sama?" Kidoomaru questioned hesitantly, taking half a step towards her. "Those Nura are our fated enemies. All of their blood ought to be eliminated. What are you-?"

She did not hear. The world slid sidewards.

The young yokai's golden eyes overlaid with brown, his anger replaced by vulnerability. Rikuo.

Gold eyes. Warm hand. Otoo-sama. Nura Rihan.

Her knees met the floor, her breath left her in a gasp.

(-childhischildfatherhischildandmineRihan-samafather)

Her head was splitting! She screamed.

"Hagoromo Kitsune-sama!"

"Move aside! Move you fools!"

"Minagoroshi Jizou – what are you- ?!"

"Curses, be quiet!" The voice interlaced with Fear brushed against her senses, compelling in its call. The abrput silence beat painfully against her ears. What was this coward doing to her hyakkiyako?

The next time she heard his voice, it was close to her ears, soft and almost cooing. "Hagoromo Kitsune-sama, everything is alright. Those Nura are not to be concerned about. Look at my eye and the pain will leave. The pain will leave and you can hate them again."

She wished to scratch his eye out. But she was unable to move, her headache paralyzing. More images resurfaced from deep well of her mind. A woman. Pitch black and beautiful, grieving and in agony.

(-mo-)

("mychildandhis-")

Thick fingers peeled her eyes open and red filled her vision. The immeasurable agony ebbed.

"That's right. Just look in this eye of mine. Don't be concerned about anything. Relax and you can forget those blackened bonds. Hate, hate, forget and those of the loathed Nura Clan will be eliminated by-"

No, she thought stubbornly; a childish and defiant persistence lacking entirely the poise of Hagoromo Kitsune but that held on with strength of faith and hope that adult minds no longer had.

(Just today she met her ***. She did not want to forget. Not like she forgot***)

Darkness crept in and swallowed her.

Pain disappeared.

Her eyes opened. Black bed and black curtains. She felt pleasantly rested. Sunlight peeked through the curtains.

When she arrived downstairs livers were waiting for her as well as her loyal followers.

"Hagoromo Kitsune-sama, today we break the last seal," her trusted adviser Minagoroshi Jizou said.

"Let us hope it will be as smooth as the other seven," Kidomaru contributed.

Hagoromo Kitsune chuckled lightly as she slid into her seat. "Whyever would we want that, Kidomaru? It is only when things do not go as planned that they are truly interesting, no?"

Kyokotsu giggled. "You wish to have fun, sister?"

(….sister?….)

"There is nothing wrong with some entertainment. That cursed yakuza Clan must be made to regret after all."


When the Keikain had through several substitutes and around three corners finally conceded to an agreement with them, Rikuo supposed they didn't have in mind that a yokai clan heir roamed their halls as an invited guest.

Which was of course precisely why Rikuo did it.

Most people would call it rude. Rikuo didn't know why they bothered – he was already inside after all; what sort of yokai would he be if he didn't take full advantage of his job being already halfway done?

Granted, only few could spare the attention from their stressed days to identify the civilian in their midst as a yokai. Those who did pulled the most hilarious faces, though.

In Rikuo's defense there actually was reason he was outside of the space confining his human friends. There were only so many times he could play yokai poker and his ears could only endure so much hearsay yokai stuff before they fell off.

He had just finished a side trip through the kitchen and turned a corner when he ran into what seemed a solid wall.

Rubbing his nose, Rikuo found himself staring at Yura's brother who gave him a look of utmost disdain.

"If it isn't Keikain-onii-san. How do you do?" Rikuo felt a mockingly surprised grin split his face. "Thank you for all your hard work last night."

If looks could kill Rikuo's ashes would resurface on the other side of the world. The animosity radiating off Humorless Big Brother was stronger than what most yokai could produce. Rikuo told him so.

Keikain Ryuji-san's eyebrow twitched. "What. Are. You. Doing. Here."

Internally Rikuo's devilish glee only rose. On the outside he tried to get his expression back into the realm of politeness because there was some acid water around somewhere close. That big poker-faced onmyoji stood behind Keikain's shoulder as well. "Checking up on my friends," Rikuo informed him cheerfully and more importantly truthfully. But because he just couldn't let it be, he added, "and Yura-san."

Keikain-onii-san's face blackened like thunder. He stepped past Rikuo, just even with his shoulder. "Listen here, yokai filth. What we need is Nenekirimaru only. You're not even its wielder. I'll exterminate you given half the chance."

...Oh? Getting his blood boiling in the Keikain Headquarters was not the smartest thing, but Rikuo couldn't help it even though Fear was out of his reach (mostly). He let the first jab slide off him and leaned in to whisper his own message back. Onmyoji II's fingers sparked.

"You already tried that. Ended with you face first in the ground, if you remember."

It took some effort to back off before things escalated into a fight. Recreating personal space, he gave his best condescending tilt of the head. "But don't worry. I take care of my friends and Yura-san belongs to that whatever you or she like to think."

"She should have destroyed you the first time she laid eyes on you." Keikain returned harshly. But tense was dispersing.

Rikuo recalled that meeting. Mount Nejireme would never be the same. "She tried. It worked no better than your attempt." He waved a casual hand.

Keikain snatched the limb in mid-motion.

He glowered at the item in Rikuo's hand. "...are those wasanbon?"

...er. Flicking his trapped hand, he caught the treat in his other and ate it. "I've got no idea what you are talking about."

Keikain fairly radiated a dark cloud. Rikuo could hear his teeth grind. "We have a passed down saying in the family for if we ever meet Nurarihyon. They should have gone hunting you instead of warning us not to feed you."

Rikuo smiled politely. "Someone up your family tree had a sense of humor - the gene must have skipped you."

The Hidemoto that hung around Yura all the time last night was the type of person who definitely would use the respect his family had for him and tradition to make a joke.

Best thing was, Keikain obviously knew that too. On that note...Rikuo twisted his hand free, giving his best human face – just something like glasses was missing to complete the image. "If you want to complain, I would suggest trying Yura's impressive shikigami. He might know something."

If Keikain weren't smart enough to understand that Rikuo needled him only for his reaction, he would have probably pulled a wonderful grimace.

Rikuo decided to be merciful and got on his way, but not without tossing a two fingered wave to the two who would love incarnate him but couldn't. Besides, he'd be able to irritate Yura's brother some more tonight when they ticked off seals four to two.

After the next corner he took he still made sure to lose himself in the many hallways the Keikain house offered to lose any potential stalkers.

It was on his way back to his friends (which he had to search for – he had got lost), that he heard it.

Two voices, both familiar, and it should not be a shock to hear either of them in this place, but habitually Rikuo still stopped to eavesdrop.

If it had been night-time, if he had been using Fear, he would have never remained undiscovered for his grandfather would have caught in immediately. But it was still day and Fear was out of his reach.

Very careful to not make noise, Rikuo leaned against the wooden wall of the hallway, next to the closed door of a room. All the normal humans in this place would likely not even hear a faint murmur.

Rikuo heard word for word.

"...so it's impossible after all." Nurarihyon's voice. He sounded weary and defeated in a way Rikuo had never heard before and breath faltered in his throat. Rikuo's ears perked.

Hidemoto the 13th's voice hummed. "Afraid so. Which means of course that some technique other than reincarnation must have been used."

Rikuo's grandfather sighed. "And? You've got an idea. Spit it out."

An amused chuckle. "Say, Nura-chan. What do you think a child is? Or more specifically, where does a child start?"

A pause. Rikuo's heart started to pound for some reason.

Hidemoto continued, tone becoming like a teacher's. "With the moment of their birth? With the moment of confirmed pregnancy? With conception? With the wish for a child? None of them are wrong, which makes all of them right. Keep in mind that this has nothing to do with your grandson. The case we are talking about is an 'idea' specific to a child of her-and-him. The idea of a child starts – gender, appearance and so forth aside – with wanting one. The strength of thought and desires creates a place in the realm of immaterial - lets call it a potential child's base. Your son and this yokai woman were not able to conceive one. What becomes of that base, do you think? The woman died, what became of it?"

It took Nurarihyon a long moments to reply. "Something that didn't exist ceased to exist. ...and you wonder why humans think you onmyoji mad."

Hitemoto clicked his tongue. "It died, Nura-chan. If that wish for a child was strong enough that in thought it already existed – and keep in mind that it doesn't matter when that wish was strong enough from both of them – then at some point it must have 'died'. Something that didn't 'live' can still 'cease' enough to arrive in the next world. If Yamabuki Otome-chan carried thoughts of it down with her, then even more so."

When Nurarihyon said nothing, Hidemoto continued breezily. "Other world being what it is, given what Tsuchigumo mentioned...the Nue would have the sufficient knowledge to use something that is little more than a life's wish and life's regret. In a world of the dead, that is."

"Ridiculous. What you are getting at is impossible. Hagoromo Kitsune needs a human host, you said so yourself." Rikuo's grandfather scoffed.

"And yet, is your grandson not so very much human that even my dear Yura-chan's ofudas can't hurt him?"

Silence.

"Wakana-san is human. He's three-quarters." Nurariyhon's voice no longer was so sure. Rikuo's heart was stuck in his throat.

"Yamabuki Otome-chan was a human first too, wasn't she." Hidemoto said. Rikuo wasn't sure he understood what they were talking about correctly, but that sentence still hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. "You'd be surprised how little difference there is in hell between 'was' and 'is'."

"...she was," Rikuo's grandfather said, sounding pained. "...then...that girl..."

"I wouldn't know," Hidemoto's voice stated easily, but still conveying how serious he was. "Thousand years in hell. Who knows what else he might come up with. But it is a possibility, yes."

Shuffling of clothes, rustling of old paper. Movement of a body. "I guess I'll go have a look. Can't say I've greeted the old fox yet, after all. At this point I'm guessing she'll be at Nijou Castle. Don't tell Rihan anything."

The door was slid open.

Rikuo stood frozen. His grandfather's eyes widened, seeing him there.

Hidemoto, cleaning up scrolls of paper and diagrams, glanced over and did a double take. "Oh my," he mused.


TBC