Act III


tears and ends and beginnings


Real space re-manifested, the grand antique hall in shambles. The roof was half torn off, the higher floors included. Clouds black and heavy swelled down from heaven, rolling like a tsunami. Shadows and flickers of light slid over their undersides, creating a ghostly dance. Orange flames licking on ancient wood were the only source of illumination.

Before that entrancing background, the pale delicate body of a girl was suspended. Held immobile by thousand hair-thin strings only visible for the fire's glow dancing over them, the scene was reminiscent of ritual sacrifice.

It was spellbinding even without the screaming.

The screaming. It was so loud, no one even noticed when Rikuo and Shoei reappeared.

A cloud of Fear surrounded the girl, not as it would were she the one using it, but as though the body could no longer contain it – it was expelled and took the inky, see through shape of a humanoid fox.

The Nidaime, standing securely on one of those hair-thin stings, gathered Fear around his sword.

Yura's Hagun canon sucked in air as she aimed carefully, as she waited for the right moment to shoot.

Rikuo felt his blood turn to ice – an entirely human reaction.

Was the old man really going to-?

Was she – not?

Rikuo's father moved so fast, his eyes could barely keep track.

The girl screamed more. Fear spilled out of the slash like blood, but it was the Fox-image that bled.

Yura shot.

The blast of light was blinding, searing Rikuo's eyes, but he did not look away.

Couldn't even if he wanted.

The girl (onee-san who're you) was silenced. She fell limp like a doll.

An audible wave of dismay rose from her hakkiyako, from those members that had been locked in combat until they had been arrested by the sight just as Rikuo was.

The fox-spirit was screaming, but the Nidaime had no attention on her at the moment. Easing the strings, he caught the girl and set her to the ground. With cautious, careful movements. Where she was immediately swarmed by their servants.

As the Old Man rose to face the fox again, a pale hand, well visible in the shadows, weakly reached after him.

Rikuo's throat was suddenly closed.

Only the lightshow of the very peak of onmyoji techniques managed to draw Rikuo's focus from her long enough to watch a spell wind around the malicious spirit. It slithered like snakes around her limbs, cutting off and suppressing her Fear.

Yura muttered spells under her breath, sweat glistering on her skin, but she was not the only one. An entire of army of skeletons copied her as well as those members of her Clan that had dared to come close.

The fox's voice became higher, like screeching, until it was cut off entirely and the spirit dissolved like smoke.

Gone. Just like that.

Harogomo Kitsune was defeated. The Nura Clan cheered, fist pumping in the air and shouts of victory claiming the night.

Yura's knees buckled under her and Rikuo's feet carried him to her before all else. "Oi, you okay?

She glared at him. It said a lot however that none of her shikigami were around, not even Hidemoto.

Rikuo sighed and picked her up, ignoring her squawking protests on the basis that her attempts at punching him were clumsy and weak. He dumped her on her brothers. They would take care of her, Rikuo had returned the onmyoji they had (kind of) borrowed.

The onmyoji gone out of the midst of the hyakkiyako, it would no longer be ungrateful or irresponsible to leave at a moment's notice.

Meaning he no longer had a plausible reason to avoid joining his father's side.

The girl.

Rikuo wanted to put all this confusion and pain behind him, but now that it was about to happen, he was hesitant.

However it was his lack of patience with all of this mess that gave him the composure (strength) to breach the cluster of yokai around his father.

His father, who sat on the ground beside the girl. A girl whose trembling fingers were entangled in his father's sleeve.

His father who looked at her with an unreadable expression. One of his hands twisted out of his robe and caught her fingers.

Rikuo felt his breath escape in halting pieces.

Her pale face turned arrestingly slowly. Black eyes sought Rikuo's face and it seemed she needed time to gather her focus to even see him.

But then she smiled.

A heartbreaking, sad and graceful smile.

There was no blood on her face, or anywhere on her body (how had the old man managed that?) but her black hair, her black eyes, her black clothes made her look like a corpse and utterly fragile. "Ri-ku…o."

Rikuo's gut churned. He felt his father's gaze on him, waiting. He lost feeling in his legs and had to sit down.

Looking at her was painful. That soft timber of her voice was entirely different from the fox speaking through her. It made him feel four and innocent again.

This was the girl who had painted pictures in the dirt with him, whose hand was warm and soft and who had helped him pick flowers for his mother. Who had had his father's blood splattered on her face as she stabbed him. Who had laughed. And screamed.

"Onee-san." He said, the words like ash in his mouth. "Who're you?"

He saw the memory in her eyes. But her smile only became more heartbreaking as she looked at him. A sheen of tears made her dark eyes even more difficult to looked at.

"I…remember," she whispered, broken. "I…recall it now. All of it. I do not kn-ow how I….can even begin to beg for forgiveness. I do not deserve it."

Rikuo felt his mouth twist. A glance at his father revealed that he as always wasn't particularly bothered by the reminder of his near death.

How long had he known?

How long had he suspected?

Was that why he didn't care?

"Before we get into complicated matters, how about you start at the beginning," suggested a new voice gruffly, Rikuo's grandfather appearing for the first time. "How is it that you are?"

The girl's face was marred by the effort it took to listen. When the words finally reached her, her gaze became distant.

Like passing out. Like dying.

Rikuo did not like what that thought did to his thoughts.

"Mother heard a voice," she managed to form eventually. And it was now that the Nidaime tensed. "It spoke to her, the first time. A man's voice. The second time I heard it, it was speaking only to me even though I was merely a part of Mother. Just a desire that was never granted." Her voice died, heavy with sorrow. After a long moment, she tried to continue. "The next thing I recall is standing on the temple's stairs and Rikuo. Rikuo... Memories not of mine were in my head. Rikuo played with me. Rihan-sama – Father…let me and... took my hand."

Rikuo remembered that too.

It was that what, when he had discovered that house and the information of Sanmoto Gorozaemon's and saw that picture of her, had hit him the hardest.

A girl calling Rikuo's father 'Father' and his father accepting it and treating her as though she had always existed. It had made Rikuo think he had had a real sister, one that had disappeared before he was old enough to remember her. A real sister who had stabbed their father.

Fifty percent of that were … not wrong.

"I...was happiness beyond the greatest bliss. It was...as though I was real, as though I had been granted...life, as though the greatest wish I had been born from was...truth. I knew nothing other than that it was...real. But then I-" her voice faded again, cracking on the last syllable.

"Then I triggered an implanted action because I had to cite that poem," Rikuo's father said, running a hand over his face in resignation and exhaustion and grief. "I forgot that it had to be a trap for a moment."

What poem?

His father's face tightened as he glanced up at Kubinashi, as always at his back. "Do we have Minagoroshi Jizou?"

For the first time Rikuo took note of how his father's most loyal was whitened with rage. "Yes, Rihan-sama. What shall we do with the rest of the fox's following? Those that haven't run yet?" He dropped a significant glance at the girl.

"Make it clear that those who don't run will be killed. They have no more business here." the second Head said, tone indifferent and cold. His attention fell back to the girl before Kubinashi had even bowed in acknowledgement. "We will get all he knows out of him. He'll tell us everything he did to you," he told the girl, addressing her for the first time directly. His tone was kind.

The girl choked on a sob. It made her entire body tremble. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She cried, tears glinted like liquid moonlight in the night, escaping from the corners of her eyes. It made Rikuo overly aware that she was human, weak and in agony now, no longer a mask hiding something monstrous. "I'm so sorry. …so sorry…"

She kept repeating the three words, like a broken record, so pitifully miserable.

Something twisted in Rikuo's gut as the thought occurred to him that maybe she would have preferred if his father's blade had cut her and not only her Fear.

The Nidaime sighed heavily. "There was no fault in your actions," he said. "You fought her. You tried to resist her. I noticed in our battle." He pushed a bit of her out of her face and wiped a tear, not exactly gentle (yet) but caring enough. She froze, eyes rounding like a deer in the headlights. "It is to your credit that you broke the brainwashing and control long enough to remember what you are. There was no place for the fox in you after that. If you had not done that I don't know if I could have…" he made a sharp gesture with his head. Rikuo needed what felt like an eternity to catch the meaning; his father wasn't sure he could have struck the Fox without hurting the vessel who was…

Rikuo still couldn't properly think it. Not now that is seemed to be reality.

The Nidaime smirked, quick, sharp and approving. "I expect as much from a child of Otome's. And of mine."

Sister.

Rikuo had a sister. Starting now.

Who was immobile until a sob tore out of her throat. Then she started crying again. But there was something other to her tears this time than despair.

Rikuo stood abruptly.

Good. Fine. Just as well.

He had his confirmation, but he could not deal with all of the ramifications at once.

He turned his attention to the hyakkiyako, finding them ordered in shape and form and duties by Kubinashi. They were all well busy cleaning up the last yokai, sneering at the onmyoji with whom they were suddenly a lot less willing to share breathing space, and tending to the wounded.

Rikuo's eyes found Yukionna, smacking someone with way too much ice in the face as per her usual way of failed tender care. She was fine. Steady. As usual.

Itaku and his other friends from Toono were also as usual taking care to keep some space between themselves and the Nura Clan. Wouldn't do for them to be mistaken as part of the parade after all. Their pride would not be able to stand it. Itaku met his eyes. Arms crossed. One eyebrow ticked up, as though to say 'well?', challenging him and testing at the same time.

Rikuo tossed him a smirk.

Itaku rolled his eyes and snorted, but some tension went out of his shoulders. He turned and said something to his fellow mercenaries. They all relaxed and gave him quick waves before they jumped off. Clearly the cleanup after a battle was below Toono.

The oldest of the Nura Clan had come to join them now, no doubt having arrived with Rikuo's grandfather. They spoke to each other in low voices, gesturing harshly. By the way the kept glancing at the girl (Sister. Sister. Rikuo's real blood sister. What was her name?), there was no question about what they were talking. Grandpa had probably clued them in on the issue that had kept Heads One to Three plus some so obviously distracted. They didn't like the development.

Rikuo felt a stab of irritation at that. As if this was something that could be judged. It was far, far too personal to be evaluated.

Rikuo caught Hitostume's gaze and held it, lips thinning. The other elders followed his line of sight and stilled as well. Hitotsume chewed his pipe, and looked away.

Inclining his head, Rikuo let them in peace.

More and more onmyoji were spilling into the temple hall. It seemed now that the fight was over their dared. They dared, and looked at the Nura Clan with fear and contempt and obviously wanted them off their holy grounds now.

Rikuo sighed. He supposed he might as well do damage control there.


TBC