Act III


detours and family crises and negotiations


Rikuo-sama was fuming.

Tsurara had no idea what had upset him so before he had returned from his stroll through Keikain Headquarters, but ire still had not left him. Even after a night of mischief and fighting Kyoto yokai.

It seemed to only have agitated him more, in fact.

Glancing at her master nervously as he swung out the grime from his blade, Tsurara was very aware that no one, utterly no one had more knowledge as to the origins of the Young Master's mood.

Over the course of the night, she had more than once caught Rihan-sama and his closest put their heads together and whisper with their Lord, yet everyone continued to be baffled.

All seals except the final one reinstated, the Sokoku-ji temple grounds so recently a battlefield that dust was still settling, the night coming to a close and yet Rikuo-sama had not smiled once.

He was even disinterested tonight in irritating the onmyoji!

Tsurara nibbled her lip in worry as Rikuo-sama started to leave without any flair, without waiting for the Parade.

For once she was on the same wavelength with the Tonoo folk, exchanging perplexed glances.

"What crawled up his ass and died," Awashima wondered, swinging her weapon over her shoulder.

"You'd think they insulted his mother, he was so pissed." Amezo added, rubbing his chin.

"If someone had insulted Wakana-sama they'd be a bloody corpse now." Gozumaru said flatly. "And we'd tearing whatever the Nidaime left to shreds."

"It is peculiar," Tsurara's fellow yukionna Reira added, "that gossip for once seems to fall short. What could have enraged him so yet none of us have heard of it." Her brows were furrowed faintly in worry, her eyes still in the direction Rikuo-sama disappeared in.

The sickle weasel Itaku scoffed. "That wasn't angry. He was 'angry' with Tsuchigumo. This is what he was like when he first came to Tonoo and he's trying to cover it up with anger." He sheathed his weapons and flicked some blood out of strands of hair. "Leave him. If he can't sort it out on his own then it becomes business to worry about."

Awashima clicked her tongue, but they all seemed to agree that Itaku had a point.

Tsurara didn't. "Rikuo-sama shouldn't have to be alone. I'll go look for him."

"Leave it," repeated the weasel. As if Tsurara would listen to him! She bowed to Rihan-sama and separated from the parade.

Itaku made an irritated noise. "He'll never grow up with overprotective aids around like that."

"...I don't like you Tonoo guys, but you sure hit the nail on the head," Gozumaru's comment still reached Tsurara's ears. He sounded surprised.

Those uncivilized folk, Tsurara grumbled in her head, only concerned with what Rikuo-sama should become and not what he is.

Rikuo-sama was upset. It was wrong to leave him alone at a time like this, never mind the folly of the Young Master being in Kyoto without guards.

Only after she had left the others well behind and was on her own on Kyoto's streets that it occurred to Tsurara she had no idea where to find Rikuo-sama.

She dearly hoped he had headed back to Takarabune, but all her years of serving Rikuo-sama told her differently.

In fact, if she were to trust her instincts….

Tsurara turned so that her gaze was able to rest on the ominous whirl of black energy that spun in the air over Nijou Castle.

She swallowed.

Rikuo-sama had not seemed to be thinking clearly. He definitely would.

Taking to the rooftops and from there to the air, Tsurara set her focus on Kyoto's center.

Of course she did not see Rikuo-sama anywhere but she had hope that as she was specifically looking for him and that so long as he was not explicitly hiding that she might find him.

The moon sunk deeper and deeper behind the clouds as Tsurara circled the castle at a safe distance, looking for Rikuo-sama in places giving particular good view.

Rikuo-sama was not to be found.

The well-lit castle fairly mocked her. Hands balling into fists, Tsurara tired not to think of the horrors that may befall the Young Master should he be caught in that place.

Her feet carried her closer before she had even made the conscious decision.

Out of nothing, something appeared in front of her shoulders before she could make it too far. The blizzard didn't make it past her lips as she recognized Rikuo-sama's sheathed blade. "Young Master!"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, putting a finger to his lips in a signal for silence. The majority of his attention was on the castle.

Tsurara studied her young lord. He didn't seem worse for the wear, but emotional energy still clung to his frame. His expression was dark and unreadable.

Despite her best intentions of supporting him Tsurara didn't know what to say, but she hoped her presence was able to assure Rikuo-sama that he did not have to be alone with his troubled mind.

Rikuo-sama's body shifted; from set tension to sudden alert.

His stare was narrowed suspiciously.

They were too far way to see windows as more than dots. The commotion disturbing the night was nonetheless immediately recognizable. Fear stirred, teasing her senses first.

Rikuo-sama sucked in a sharp, startled breath. "Wha-"

An outer wall seemed to be broken through, a body barely visible in the cloud of dust before it fell into the moat.

Rikuo-sama cursed. He grasped her wrist and she felt his Fear stretch to disappear them both. But instead of retreating, Rikuo-sama dropped dropped out of the air and dashed towards the castle.

The water was still rippling when they arrived. Rikuo-sama's gaze darted around, looking, searching…

"Rikuo-sama," Tsurara warned, nervously spying at the yokai staring down from the castle. If they became aware of them.

Rikuo-sama didn't appear to hear her. His sandaled feet carried him along the water, focus determined on something. Tsurara was too busy keep her eyes on the closest threats that Rikuo-sama just lead them past as though they didn't exist.

Only when Rikuo-sama waved a hands through the air, tangling tendrils of Fear on them that Tsurara understood. That Fear was familiar. Very familiar.

The Shodaime became visible as his and Rikuo-sama's illusions melted together.

Tsurara gasped.

Wet. Blood.

It had been the First who had caused the disturbance! He had been caught! And hurt!

"Rikuo-sama!" Karasu Tengu, who Tsurara had not noticed until that moment exclaimed in surprised relief. "What are you doing here?! The Shodaime has been injured! We must immediately take him back to the ship!"

Tsurara knelt by the First Lord's side, helping him into an upright position. As she touched his back, her hand came in contact with warm blood.

The emotion that had been causing such unrest within Rikuo seemed to spill over as he aided his grandfather.

"And?" He demanded, worried but far, far more anxious about something. Afraid almost. "What is it?"

The Shodaime's breath came in painful gasps. It wasn't his wounds that he seemed most concerned with, though, expression thoroughly distant.

"Oi, Old Man." The Young Master nudged the First none too gently as he picked him up to carry on his back.

"Rikuo-sama," Karasu Tengu scolded. "The First is-"

"Rihan will have to be informed," Nurarihyon-sama got out, voice grating as they left the cover of trees around the castle and started walking on air.

Rikuo-sama seemed to be approaching a state of shock. His skin was close to the shade of bleached paper, the control over his Fear became rougher, pupils small. "So..." His voice choked off after only the first word.

But the Shodaime shook his head. "I was able to see why she caught Rihan aback more than once. But it's still only a possibility, Rikuo. Don't let it consume you."

Rikuo-sama laughed harshly without any amusement whatsoever. "A possibility that got you stabbed too. It's obviously more possible than not at this point!"

Karasu Tengu and Tsurara exchanged completely baffled looked. What were they talking about?

"Are you possibly discussing the reason why the Shodaime felt the need to sneak into a stronghold of a yokai that almost killed him four hundred years ago, never mind now? What could possibly be so important that it could not wait until the castle is stormed and the enemy defeated?" Karasu Tengu inquired pressingly and highly disapproving.

Rikuo-sama let out a sound that could not be called a laugh, a scoff or even sane. "I don't know, how about determining if Harogomo Kitsune's host is my magically created half-sister? Might be good to know before Dad runs Nenekirimaru through her."

"Rikuo," the Shodaime reprimanded.

From a distance.

From a distance because Tsurara had lost her concentration in shock and was free-falling. Together with Karasu Tengu whose eyes were almost the size of his head.

WHAT?!


"Oh my," Hidemoto exclaimed with far too much delight. "Would you look at that. They sure have got style."

Yura felt her eye twitch. They had to be kidding.

But no – the people calling the shots here are the kind who wait in onmyoji's homes after dark and who steal food right under the nose of the most powerful exorcist of the time – they weren't kidding.

In daylight the Nura Clan's local base appeared easily like an old, average, two masted ship that took up half of the river (without counting the smaller vessels).

When Yura looked closer, mist of dark energy was seeping out of it, polluting air and water. The banner of the Nura Clan waved on flags in the wind. Yokai few over them, keeping up security and patrol. Yokai disguised as humans stood guard from the shore. More than one water yokai kept the ships safe from below.

It was loud.

Were they partying or what?

"Hey Yura! Hidemoto!" Nura-kun's voice called from the ship, and her eyes found him just coming towards her from the ramp of the biggest of his Clan's ships. "Thanks for coming. I know you need to rest, but it's really important," he told her.

"Always my pleasure, Rikuo-chan." Hidemoto assured him, gleefully grinning.

She sniffed. "It had better be. And don't think I'm here because you called! Hidemoto just wouldn't shut up otherwise."

Nura-kun didn't grin or smirk or make fun of her in any way, instead just folding his hands into the sleeves of his kimono. "Sorry." He merely said, looking it. He gestured at the demonic ship behind him overflowing with yokai and their energies. "Want to come up? Mom would never let me hear the end of it if I was a bad host while we're making use of your services."

Yura would love to turn him down. It gave her the creeps to even think about setting foot on that ship. But as if last night's behaviour hadn't been enough, he was still obviously off his usual game. That changed the rules.

Her friend needed her help.

"If any of your guys play a prank on me, I'll exterminate them," she warned.

Nura-kun smiled."Don't worry," he said as he lead the way up the ramp, seeing to her steps like a gentleman would. "After the way you blew those Kyoto yokai away last night, you've so thoroughly terrified the whole lot of them they'll be falling of their feet to stay out of your way."

"What a reputation," complimented her shikigami, obviously making fun of her.

Yura ignored him and decided to enjoy the very human interaction with Nura-kun as long as it lasted. "Good," she huffed. "I don't want anything to do with yokai."

Her internal eye pictured Nura-kun smirking and agreeing sarcastically, while pointedly glancing around.

He didn't do any such thing, instead leading her into the inner parts of the ship, focus obviously somewhere else.

"Hidemoto only said that it had something to do with Harogomo Kitsune's host body," Yura said suspiciously. Nura-kun flinched. He. Flinched. Her eyes narrowed. "What the hell is wrong?"

Nura-kun's shoulders sagged. Only a bit. But the effect it had was so startling, Yura wondered how she had not noticed the heavy air around him before.

Everything about him was tense, but he still tried for a light shake of his head. "Don't worry about it, Yura. It might be nothing."

"Or it might be something," she kept digging, even more suspicious.

"What do you hope for, Rikuo-chan?" Hidemoto wanted to know. His tone was light but his eyes were sharp. "That it is something? Or nothing? I imagine there are many changes coming."

Nura-kun turned his head to have the ghost be the center of his vision. The way he studied Hidemoto was more than a bit cold (a first towards Hidemoto). "What do you think I'm thinking about? That I'm internally celebrating? Or perhaps plotting murder?" He sneered, the expression startling on his human face. "Did you lose all your humanity when you lost your body?"

Turning his head straight ahead he gave off an air of superiority of the likes Yura had not seen him project since his war with the Shikoku yokai.

What was going on?

"Ah, sorry, my bad, Rikuo-chan. I didn't mean to offend," Hidemoto placated, gesturing with his hands. "Just curious. It must have crossed your mind. What to do if, how did you say, 'it is something'?"

Nura-kun's sandals slapped against the planks. "that ut has not left my mind might be more appropriate," he said, all fight going out of him, leaving behind just an exhausted boy of twelve.

Yura had enough. "Someone tell me what this is about right now. Or I'm banishing you -" she pointed at Hidemoto - "and walking straight back out of this damn ship." She snapped, glowering.

Nura-kun sighed, coming to a stop. "You'll find out soon enough," he said. His hand resting on a door he took a deep breath before sliding it open. "I have brought Keikain Yura. Hidemoto 13th is present."

Conversation over.

Nura-kun waited for her to step into the room. A room clouded with yoki. Immediately she felt the drain it took to keep Hidemoto present.

Four yokai other than the Nurarihyons sat semi-officially at a wide, low table obviously designed for more people. Tea steamed.

"Oh my, Nura-chan. Look at you. You got hurt." Hidemoto seemed to have no issues whatsoever stepping among yokai, all but skipping over to tease The Nurarihyon.

Nura-kun's grandfather scoffed, "at least I'm not dead, unlike someone," while Nura-san smiled, ignored the old men and waved at kindly at Yura. "Welcome. Sorry to bother you, I know you must be busy. Feel free to have some of my lot show you to a room where you can rest."

Yura crossed her arms, already frayed nerves straining to keep a hold of her temper. It was easy to give the Lord of Pandemonium a flat, narrow stare if only because of his resemblance to Nura-kun. "I'm not at your beck and call, yokai. Don't think you can summon me just like that and then not tell me anything." She grit out. "What do you need Hidemoto for? What does it have to do with Harogomo Kitsune?"

Silence. The Fear that had previously ignoring her became poisonous. Inhuman minds focused the attention on her, eyes suddenly gaining predatory edges.

Petty yokai.

"Wow, Yura-chan," Hidemoto murmured, this time not mocking.

Nurarihyon the Second merely gave her one intense look before his attention shifted behind her shoulder.

Nura-kun stepped next to her. "Nura affair or not, Yura is the one who uses Hagun. She'll have to know something sooner or later. Unless we want her to shoot something we don't actually want her to shoot. And she is right – some of it is her right to know."

The yokai weren't pleased.

Yura wasn't either. From ten brothers she was down to two (or three), her grandfather was injured and unable to fight. Her Clan was devastated, not even a fifth of their numbers remaining. Her school friend was a junior yokai lord. She was spending more time in yokais' presence not shooting than she was upholding her honour as an onmyoji. Her ancestor was treating everything as a game when he wasn't deadly serious. She hadn't had more than four hours sleep in the last seventy eight hours. And now those dubious yokai allies that they needed to save Kyoto had to have some sort of crisis.

They had the nerve to debate at a time like this! When the end of the world might be coming if Harogomo Kitsune gave birth to a child who wasn't the onmyoji paragon he was always said to be!

Nura-san exchanged silent words with his son before he waved a hand dismissively. The animosity subsided. "Have a seat if you want, Yura-chan. Just sitting in might give you nightmares, though," he said tiredly.

He looked even worse than Nura-kun, Yura noticed. She clenched her jaw.

The Nurarihyons who always overflowed with superiority, arrogance and ease, all of them frazzled to the edges. How did the enemy manage that?

Nura-kun slumped down next to his grandfather. One of those yokai Yura saw frequently near the front of the hyakkiyako, a woman with long hair, immediately set a cup of tea for him. Together with a small bottle of sake.

...What?

Before Yura's disbelieving eyes, Nura-kun mixed some into his tea and took a sip. She slid onto the nearest cushion that left a couple of seats open between her and the nearest yokai, was also offered tea but no sake. The yokai woman gave her a hard, meaningful stare.

Yura didn't need her to make her aware of how explosive this mess was. Ignoring it or not, anxiety had been twisting her insides into enough knots. Knots that were very different from the sort she could do something with – like shooting yokai, destroying evil.

"Now that we're all here," an older yokai began, long hair falling over one eye, "we must evaluate an issue for its verity. We'll start by recounting all events relating to the problem.

"First we have the confirmed passing of Yamabuki Otome, the Nidaime's wife, more than one hundred fifty years ago. Second, a girl first seen eight years ago in an attempt on the Nidaime's life and now confirmed to host Hagoromo Kitsune whose appearance is near identical to Otome-sama. Something which should be impossible under the given circumstances. Notable at that time is her form of address in regard to both the Second Head and Third Heir as well as the knowledge of a particular piece of information concerning the relationship of the Nidaime and Yamabuki Otome-sama. For the latter as well as the weapon used in the attempt a connection can be drawn to the Hyaku Monogatari Clan. Thirdly of importance is the not unknown grudge the Hyaku Monogatari bears towards the Nidaime and the question of how it is involved with Hagoromo Kitsune as a Clan member has been sighted at her side, which creates further questions about the affair. Furthermore-"

"Enough."

Stilling, the yokai turned his head. "Nidaime?"

Nura-kun's father managed to appear bored even though he was not able to mask the tension his body radiated. "We already know all those things, Gyuki. No need to deal with details at this time. What I need to know before we attack Nijo Castle are three things." Golden eyes slid over Yura and settled with piercing intensity on Hidemoto. Yura's blood chilled, realizing the yokai was angry. "Can a child that was not born be created? How can we determine if Hagoromo Kitsune's host is a...daughter of mine that someone created? Lastly, if that is so, how do we get the fox out of her?"

...

...what.

Hidemoto smiled, razor sharp. Suddenly it was obvious why he was regarded in the highest respect even though he behaved like a silly ghost. "Those are some interesting questions. The first answer I'm willing to give is that yes, though no sane onmyoji would do it – be able do it -. Given enough black arts, power and access to certain things it is not impossible."

Thump. It was as though the very air had turned to stone; impossible to be breathed, cold, hard and unmoved. A good half of the yokai present still managed to hiss or swear quietly. Nura-kun, all human in appearance, stared woodenly into his tea cup which his fingers were wound around tightly.

"I am wondering, though," Hidemoto continued, "if - and I mean IF - this girl were who she might be - will the Nura Clan still fight the fox? Or are you made powerless by her presence?"

Yura's brain stumbled to catch up. What was he talking about? What were they talking about? What was Hidemoto implying? Was he -? Her swallowed tongue made no sign of reappearance. Her mind was blank.

The yokais' presences were near malicious. Yura had never sensed malevolence so clearly without blood flying.

Nura-kun snorted, breaking the building tension.

"For someone so comfortable around yokai, you don't get our society as well as you think you do," he said flatly. The atmosphere of the room seemed to bypass him entirely as he played with the tea still left in his cup. Though human still his eyes glowed faintly, his entire demeanor was that of someone who could be surprised by nothing anymore. He didn't even bother rising his gaze from his cup. "We are yokai. Don't think us all soft and indecisive like humans."

"Hidemoto." Nura-kun's grandfather picked up the line when his grandson was not willing to elaborate. He didn't seem remotely like a harmless old man anymore. Power and authority leaked in the air from him. "Don't take our pride lightly."

Pulling a bit back on the edge, Hidemoto tilted his head. "Pride?"

None of the Nurarihoyns thought it necessary to explain, each more concerned with their own thoughts. One of the retainers - the Gyuki demon - eventually decided to get the session move forward. His expression was blank and voice monotone as he explained.

"Is this child of the noble blood of Nurarihyon, our honour will be sullied by harming her. Do we not, it will be that fact alone bringing us to our knees. Thus our pride demands one action and one action only. We will be paid with blood for the slight." He folded his hands slowly on the table, blood red eye surveying the present people. "Shares this child no blood, it is still a strike at the very heart of the Clan. It has never been in question, onmyoji, that the coming night will be dyed red."

"The only thing in question is whose blood will be spilled," completed Nurarihyon, sharp as a blade.

Ice ran cold fingers down Yura's spine.

"Oh well." Hidemoto said, smiling brightly. "That's alright then. Do forgive me for my ignorance. Back on topic, I can't say I know a hundred percent sure method of determining the girl's status. There are some ways of revealing if someone is human or not, however with Hagoromo Kitsune in that body….well. I am very interested though – there must have been something, Nura-chan, that prompted you come to me. Something that must have made you suspicious."

The expressions of Nurarihyon the First and the Second twitched minutely. Nura-kun finally tore his gaze away from his tea, settling it with intense suspicion on his father.

Who's lips thinned. "I don't see how that is relevant."

"No?" Hidemoto pulled a shoulder up in an elegant half-shrug. "It's not necessary to know, but isn't it always said that a parent's instincts can't be tricked?"

Silence. Dead heavy and growing more and more uncomfortable with every moment that the implications weren't confirmed or denied.

Nura-kun was staring fixed at his father, eyes narrowing more and more while the neckless yokai and the guyki demon exchanged tight glances that nonetheless were their own conversation.

Nurarihyon's robes rustled as he pulled a long, thin object out of them. With a tiny flame from his fingertip, he ignited a pipe and puffed smoke into the already miasma polluted air.

"She reminded me of someone," he said leisurely. Gold eyes gleamed not in hate or anger but in thought. "She reminded me of someone she shouldn't remind me of were a connection or resemblance to Otome the only thing we needed to worry about."

Yura regretted insisting on being present for this talk. Her insides squirmed. It was awkward. This was Nura-kun's family issues. Not yokai stuff. Like how she didn't want to discuss her parents' relationship with him or couldn't stand him see baby pictures of her. Or something.

None of her business. That they had hardly put up a fight when she had insisted only added another lead weight to how much they didn't care right now.

Nura-kun might have a sister.

Who would be Hagoromo Kitsune at the moment.

Yura felt sick.

"How do we get Hrgoromo Kitsune out?"

All eyes flashed to her. The words had left her without her permission but she didn't want to take them back. Her fists balled and she felt herself getting angry. Damn those yokai!

(If she did – no wonder Nura-kun had been in such a foul mood.)

"Yes, how. That's the problem, isn't it?" Nura-kun tossed back the rest of his tea and turned the cup upside down, pushing it to the center of the table. He tapped the porcelain with the tip of a finger impatiently. "How?"

Hidemoto hummed. "Good question. Rikuo-chan, if I may ask, you were born human, no? What did it take for you to awaken as a yokai?" Hidemoto rested his head in a hand, staring mysteriously.

Nura-kun gave the dead onmyoji a contemplating look, but in the end shrugged. "I was six. The old man didn't want to let me go out with the parade with them so I decided to lead the guys out without asking while his back was turned. Just happened."

Chuckles were hidden behind Hidemoto's long sleeves with very little care. "Oh my." But as quick as lightening he became serious again. "That's the key. It's only a theory, but it is the one with the highest chance of success. Hagoromo Kitsune's host must be human. The moment she stops, the fox will lose her hold." His sharp sight skimmed over everyone present. "Convincing her that her vessel is only mostly human might be enough to make her vulnerable to exorcism, but that's less sure. The moment she's out however..."

"She's dead." Nura-kun stated plainly.

"Sealed please," Hidemoto suggested.

"The difference is negligible." Nurarihyon the Second spoke up. From his tone alone it was impossible to tell what he thought. His face on the other hand… "The fox is a problem but she isn't the one behind it all."

Nurarihyon the First nodded. "She already has a sword among her relics – she hardly needs a cursed one, though she'd probably be all for a blade that tasted three generations of Nurarihyon blood." His grumbling was irritated.

"Excuse me?" Hidemoto straightened alarmed while Nura-kun rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"Let me guess. The Mao's Hammer turned up in the laughing eyeball's hands. So that's why that wound hit you so hard. The sword ate your Fear, gramps."

Nurarihyon grunted darkly.

"So it seems, Rikuo-sama," the gyuki demon confirmed. "Perhaps it is wise to destroy the blade the next time we get the chance."

"Wait wait wait." Hidemoto interrupted, waving his arms. His eyes were wide. "Can you repeat that? What cursed sword? There is a cursed sword that was touched by three generations?" For the first time he seemed truly unsettled. And unimpressed with the lack of care by his audience. "I don't think you get the significance of that."


TBC