Chapter Four: Enemy
As Mirai spun around, her heart raced in her chest, a primal instinct warning her of the impending danger hurtling towards her. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, she found herself pinned against the gnarled trunk of the tree, a powerful grip seizing her hand and thrusting the torch dangerously close to her face.
A stranger emerged from the shadows, his voice dripping with disdain. "So young," he whispered, each word a blade. "Hardly more than a child."
Struggling to regain her composure, Mirai squinted against the harsh glare of the torch, her senses reeling in the presence of the imposing figure looming before her. Clad in silk that shimmered like the carapace of a beetle, he exuded absolute danger. The torchlight cast eerie shadows that danced across his neck, revealing the taut muscles at the hollow of his throat, while his face, framed by a halo of auburn hair, possessed an alluring yet enigmatic quality. She felt his gaze pierce through her, his irises ablaze with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Who are you?" Mirai's voice trembled, her eyes darting nervously to the dark markings adorning his face. "What are you?"
His grin widened.
"Your legend precedes you, spirit," he replied with a hint of admiration. "Even in the darkest corners of this river valley, your light still finds a spark. I couldn't resist the urge to see for myself if the rumors held any truth." With a swift motion, he lifted Mirai by the wrist, her discomfort evident as he pulled her off balance, threatening to wrench her arm from its socket. "Yet," he continued, his gaze sweeping over her in growing disappointment, "I must confess, I find myself...underwhelmed. You're nothing more than a girl," his eyes flickered toward the twisted mass of bark behind her, "arguing with a dead tree, it appears."
Mirai's lips parted in outrage as she shoved her hand against his chest. Though solid, her hand sent a jolt of heat through him, forcing him to stumble back. A sudden pull in her stomach left her disoriented. One moment, she was backed against the tree, trapped – the next, she was standing on the dais with no recollection of how she got there. The torch clattered to the ground, its embers hissing against the dark stone.
As the intruder straightened, holding a scrap of her blue silk, Mirai felt violated. No yurei dared to lay hands on a korai with such impertinence. Her wrist and shoulder throbbed, a painful reminder of his violence.
Sparks of fire escaped her skin, and Mirai glared at him with simmering anger.
"How dare you defile these sacred halls!" she admonished him, her voice rife with righteous indignation. "This holy sanctum is–"
"–Tell me, if this place is so holy," he tossed aside the torn silk as he slowly descended the altar steps," why does it resonate with so much cursed energy?"
Mirai recoiled. "What?"
"This place is teeming with it," he continued. "Suffused with hatred. It's stifling. The very presence of it is what led me straight to you."
No, Mirai couldn't accept it. Madness seeped from his words like venom.
This was a sanctuary, a refuge from darkness. Cursed energy had no place here; it would be cleansed by the shimrasen protecting the shrine. Even Umi, Nagisa's water spirit, bore no traces of malice.
With a mixture of fascination and trepidation, Mirai scrutinized the handsome stranger before her, unable to deny the unmistakable allure that emanated from him.
From a distance, he appeared to be a man in his prime, exuding a sense of entitlement as he regarded her coldly from the altar. Yet, a sickly aura enveloped him, an unnatural haze that whispered of corruption. Dark circles nestled under his eyes like echoes of past sins etched into his very being. He was the source of the oppressive heaviness that filled the room, a black-and-blue affliction staining the very air. Mirai had never encountered such concentrated cursed energy before, and she was baffled by its ferocity, especially given the faint glimmer of light hovering above his heart, no larger than a grain of sand.
Despite his demonic presence, that tiny sliver of light reminded her of the monk in the cove.
No, it couldn't be. In disbelief, Mirai shook her head, her gaze locked on him with a mixture of fear and uncertainty, struggling to reconcile the demonic visage before her with the remnants of humanity that lingered within.
But one thing was absolutely certain.
"You're human."
A smirk played across his smooth mouth.
"Less so than you, it seems."
His gaze lingered on her hand, a sardonic glint in his eyes. Bewildered, Mirai followed his gaze, only to discover her sleeve dampened with her own blood. Her hand was sliced open, a thin gash from palm to base of her small finger, beaded with dark red droplets. She felt the searing pain only after seeing it.
"How?" she marveled, clutching it to her chest. "How is this possible?"
She was bleeding. He had wounded her. Was her body now capable of sustaining injury? A korai never bled. What was this hollow, shaky feeling in her body?
"I had no idea you were so fragile," he remarked, the devilish grin accentuating the rugged charm that flickered in his gaze. "In fact, everything around you seems to be falling into disarray. Have I caught you at a bad time?"
He spoke with mock concern, kicking a stone across the floor as if the shrine were nothing but a crumbling ruin. To him, it was something to destroy.
An overwhelming sense of isolation engulfed Mirai, the weight of her solitude pressing down on her as she faced her adversary with no one to turn to for support.
"Why have you sequestered yourself in this dismal place, spirit? Where are your heavenly attendants?" he inquired, sensing the nature of her fear. "For one of such formidable power, it seems rather peculiar. Unless—" he paused, his body poised with predatory intent. The low resonance of his voice was unsettling as he murmured, —" you're not who I believe you to be."
Mirai felt the urge to flee. Barely two seconds into her existence as the living vessel, and already she was convinced that the ancient curse was standing before her. What in the shadowy realms of hell did Tanasuya think she could achieve so quickly? Mirai was still reeling from the aftermath of her spine being ignited, still grappling with the fact that she was marked as the divine blessing, rendering her body mortal and vulnerable to harm.
The stain on her sleeve was evidence of her newfound corporeality. Mirai should have found this revelation fascinating, but the situation had escalated now that she was flesh and blood.
She was in grave peril.
"What brings you here?" she inquired, lowering hands to her sides. "What do you seek?"
"Surely you can discern that for yourself. Feeble though you appear, there's intelligence behind that frightened gaze of yours." His words trickled with honeyed malice as he taunted her from across the dais. Mirai found no solace in his feigned amiability; it only served to heighten her sense of being preyed upon. As the light from the torch dwindled and darkness enveloped them, the hall became a cavernous tomb.
"Do you have a name?"
"Ryomen," he responded after a brief pause. "Ryomen Sukuna."
Two-faced.
A fitting name for the being that presented himself as part-human, part-curse, with occult markings trailing down his face. Mirai wondered if this was the ancient foe Umi had warned her about moments ago. He cast a menacing silhouette in the darkness, moving toward her with a feline grace. Never before had such a perilous entity set foot inside the shrine.
Nevertheless, Mirai knew she had to act.
"Are you the one I was warned about? The 'shadowed abyss, a ravenous void that consumes the essence of all it touches.' Is that you?" she asked, masking the fear in her voice.
The stranger paused.
"Is that how they regard me?" He erupted into raucous laughter, the sound rife with bitter amusement. "How poetic. I had not realized my reputation had spread to this corner of the world. An abyss, you say?" He stroked his chin in thought, revealing long, sharp claws hewn from onyx. "I suppose to an insect, a void appears the moment it's crushed underfoot." His grin darkened. "I'll allow it."
His voice deepened, causing Mirai's nape to prickle.
She clenched her hands into fists.
So, this was the name of her enemy. A creature steeped in unadulterated hostility. It confounded her that it would manifest in the guise of a human, masquerading as a cursed spirit. His soul, the core of which was reduced to a single shard, was so beseeched by dark energy, it was a miracle he was still alive. The menace Umi had warned her about conjured visions of a primal, animalistic force of hunger, not an individual cloaked in cunning.
But then again, she had heard rumors too. The shrine was rich in curse lore, full of parables on the dealings of dark energy in the mortal world. No priestess completed her studies without a thorough knowledge of the destructive power of animosity. But the shimrasen that guarded the shrine was supposed to ward against such threats. They had all been led to believe the shield was indestructible.
Just who was this man?
"Even enchanted shrines are aware of my presence. Interesting." He drew closer, shadowing her steps as she retracted from him slowly. "How will you subdue me, I wonder? Shower me in divine light? Cleanse my soul? Compel me to repent my sins?" He gave himself over to mirth, running a hand through his hair. "How does the venerable Tanasuya vanquish a great and terrible evil in her wake?"
Unbeknownst to him, Mirai had already begun a kuji kiri spell to make an enemy depart in peace. Unlike Shuka who always had a stash of talismans ready at her disposal, Mirai would have to rely on her power alone. She was fortunate that her palms were still coated in liquid gold from the ceremony. Though dry and flaking, it would be enough to help her refine her power with less effort.
She needed all the help she could get.
With her hand fashioned into a sword mudra inside her sleeve, she opened her spirit and silently chanted the nine sacred words to activate the enchantment. Her power was unstable underneath her skin, burning inside of her like a wild brushfire. She had cleansed a great many tortured spirits in this manner, but none as dangerous or cruel as the entity that stood before her now. It made it twice as difficult to concentrate on the incantation.
To enact it properly, she needed to slice the air with her mudra nine times, creating a grid of protection. But it was too dangerous to perform out in the open. He was watching her intently, closing the gap between them. She had to stall for time.
"I doubt a cleansing would appease you, human. You seem hellbent on your own destruction," she remarked. "Why even bother coming here?"
"Why indeed."
A soft exhale brushed her hair. His chest was flush against her back, having appeared out of thin air with no warning. In a swift motion, he seized her wrist, breaking her sword mudra. Simultaneously, his other hand darted over her shoulder, capturing her chin in a tight grasp. Compelled to meet his gaze, she found herself caught.
His face was inscrutable.
"You are supposedly my natural counterpart in every way. A being of mercy," he said, eyes boring into hers with a hellish fervor. "Legend says you can wipe out entire calamity across the land. Which power reigns supreme, I wonder?" His thumb trailed her lip. "A blessing or a curse?"
And just like that, he was gone. Melted into the shadows where Mirai couldn't see him. Every inch of her broke out in a flush and her heart began to race. Again, he had laid his hands on her, and again she had been powerless to stop him. The kuji kiri spell was of little use to her now. Her focus had been broken and fear threatened to consume her whole. How she was going to subdue this enemy was presently beyond her. Even with the divine mark, she was no more than a priestess. What skills did she possess that could possibly outsmart a foe such as this?
There was no time to think.
With uncanny speed, the stranger materialized at her side, his hand reaching out to seize her arm, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he closed in for the kill. Mirai dodged him, the same peculiar sensation igniting in her stomach as she crossed the hall in a single step. Bumping into an iron rack, the whole thing knocked over, spilling candles everywhere over the stone floor. As the enemy moved again, instinct took over. Mirai felt his claws ghost over her neck as she dodged his other arm, coming to stand flat at his back. All her years of dancing came to life, pooling in her feet and limbs. The pressure in her stomach extended outward to her fingers and toes. When Sukuna spun around to face her next, Mirai followed his momentum and managed to stay in his blind spot. It didn't last long, however.
"You're going to have to try much harder than that. Evasion won't get you very far. I'm growing bored already." He threatened her. "Perhaps your companions might serve as better entertainment?"
A cruel smile twisted his lips, sending a chill through Mirai's heart as she realized the depths of his malevolence.
Mirai tore herself free from his grasp, retreating to a safe distance as she braced herself for another inevitable confrontation.
She was not a fighter, and this was not a dance. But it had the same tug-and-pull effect that was familiar to her in a broader sense. A korai was trained to achieve a certain state of flow whenever in movement. It granted her a greater awareness of her surroundings, allowing her to anticipate a lead change or a fluctuation in the dance sequence. Mirai knew what it was like to be light on her feet and adapt at a moment's notice. She had to trust this instinct now more than ever to stay out of harm's way.
He gave chase, taunting her with his unrelenting claws and laughter.
They moved like two blurs in an echoing pattern. For such a large frame, it was disconcerting how easily he moved on his feet. He was light and agile. Mirai remained on the defensive, dancing out of reach of his hands that seemed to cut through the air like knives. It distressed her to see that no matter how hard she tried to get the upper hand, increasing the effectiveness of her maneuvers, he seemed genuinely thrilled.
Her ceremonial robes ripped as she dropped onto her knees. Mirai needed light with which to see her opponent and, with a flourish of both hands, set the perimeter of the hall aflame. Bright yellow fire licked at the edges of the worship hall, casting distorted shadows across the dais. The smell of woodsmoke filled the air, and she was morose to have caused the hall damage yet again.
She surveyed the chamber, her eyes frantically scanning the shadows for any trace of his striped mask. Each moment seemed to stretch into an eternity, the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air around her. Suddenly, a subtle movement in the far corner of the room drew her focus, prompting her to tense in readiness. With measured steps, she approached the source of the motion, her senses alert to the slightest shift in the darkness ahead.
"There you are," he breathed into her ear.
It happened so fast. Her back hit the wall and she had only a second to move aside before his fist came crashing next to her, cratering the stone with nothing more than brute strength. Again, his laughter twisted her nerves with fear.
It was unfair. Her enemy was a specter that could appear wherever he wanted to at will. Though he brimmed with malevolent energy, he was holding it in check as he used his strength and agility against her. Even his blows were held back, allowing him to simply scrape her skin, letting her imagine the worst pain should he choose to inflict damage at full force.
She couldn't take it anymore.
Stop this, she begged in silence. It rang through her body in invocation. I don't care what it takes, just stop him!
The moment the words formed in her mind, everything changed.
Without warning, the bangles tightened around her wrists, making them ache with a sharp pain. They were glowing as bright as a midday sun, a multicolor light show that, she realized for the first time, was derived from the shimrasen itself. The sacred veil ran through her like an electrical current, down to the floor beneath her feet, up the walls that surrounded her. It extended to every fiber, every dust mote, every stone particle that filled the worship hall. The shrine's essence intertwined with her own, as if she held its entirety within her hands, and a deep understanding filled her mind.
Trap him.
Instantly, the solid stone of the wall morphed into a fluid mass, imprisoning his fist.
"Hmm?" Sukuna halted, a flicker of bewilderment crossing his features.
His arm plunged deeper into the molten wall, his attempts to extricate himself met with steadfast resistance.
"Well now, what's this?"
Stumbling away from him, Mirai felt an intense pressure across her brow, the mark connecting her senses to the very makeup of the shrine. The realization unfurled in her mind like the petals of a flower, and she saw that she was somehow connected to the sanctum itself. The gold bangles were some sort of mantle, objects of transfiguration that allowed her to manipulate the veil. They sang in dual frequencies, sending gooseflesh up her arms.
With a whispered prayer, the heavy doors rose from their bed of ashes, melding seamlessly into the stone walls. The intricate carvings escaped the confines of the doors and spread across the stone that was now repairing itself like mended porcelain. The altar reassembled itself as well, and as Mirai extended her will, the tree that stood sentinel responded in kind, its branches extending further, intertwining with the ceiling, and sending shoots through the floor. The once-static hall now pulsed with a living, protective energy, and it was waiting for her to command.
"Marvelous!" Sukuna grinned, his eyes gleaming with sinister delight. "Show me what else you can do, spirit!"
Mirai rotated her wrists and drew her hands down to the ground. The fabric of the worship hall responded like a woven tapestry and her fingers found purchase of soft threads. Never had she been able to channel such a refined and compliant glamour. Golden luminescence pooled at her fingertips, brighter than any fire, and it made her giddy with power. In her mind's eye, she saw the wardens stationed outside the shrine and, to her amazement, identical forms materialized from her threads, shaping into two colossal beasts with razor-sharp claws and teeth.
The tigers had freed themselves from their stone pedestals, their jeweled eyes and teeth glittering with a ferocious hunger. Suppleness rippled underneath their sleek stone fur, while long striped tails swished against the floor. Unlike the ephemeral grace of the dragons in the Ryu no Mai, these manifestations were far more real. The threads that bound them were imbued with a profound and unyielding magic unlike anything she had ever fashioned before. Mirai watched as their claws dug into the dais as they took their position on either side of her, staring fixedly at her opponent. They emitted a low growl that reverberated in the hall in ominous threat.
Distract him, she ordered them silently. Create a diversion and don't let him escape.
Sukuna's eyes grew wide, but the grin on his lips grew even wider as they lunged.
Chaos erupted in the hall as the battle unfolded. Sukuna twisted and spun with an unnatural grace, freeing himself from the wall just in time to dodge a deadly swipe of stone claws. His every move was a macabre display of power and his dark aura intensified as he engaged the stone wardens. Mirai watched in horror as he leaped into the air, spinning his body mid-flight to land blows that shattered the stone tigers into rubble. A single blow should have ended them, but the loose stones merely drew back together and melded into their original forms. Each of his strikes was met with a coordinated response, the tigers with their jeweled eyes gleaming with an unyielding resolve.
Mirai stared at the glowing bangles on her wrists. The glamour came to her so easily, it was almost alarming. She had never been able to cast a shimrasen all on her own. Even Tane with all her celebrated gifts and knowledge could not weave stone from magic.
Mirai didn't have much time to adjust to this new ability. Sukuna's laughter echoed in the chamber as he relished the challenge. His fingers slashed through the air, inflicting invisible advances upon the tigers as they countered with wild and explosive movement. The very foundation of the shrine trembled beneath their skirmish.
Mirai needed to revive the sacred tree and roust it from its slumber. If the shimrasen yielded to her will, then perhaps she could restore the kodama and, together, they could recast the protective veil over the shrine.
Ignoring her exhaustion, she dashed across the chamber before the strange pull occurred in her stomach again, delivering her to the altar in a single step. Stumbling over her cracked and bleeding feet, she immediately set to work. The glamour remained pliant under her fingers as she placed a hand upon the gnarled trunk, urging it to stir back to life. Its pulse had sunk so deep below the surface, she was worried that her actions were too late. A staggering heartbeat later, the tree responded to her touch.
"Taizo, you need to wake up," she urged the kodama gently. "I don't know what's happened to you, but this can't be the end. You need to help me defeat this curse, or the shrine will fall into ruin!"
The face in the tree began to stir, its eyelids fluttering. It was the first signs of life in how many weeks Mirai wasn't sure, but she was relieved to see his face stir once more. She dabbed at the tears of sap running down his cheek.
"Taizo?"
"I remember," he choked, dark sap bubbling to his lips. "I remember everything…so clearly now...how had I forgotten? All this time…"
His voice was faint, but he was at least speaking. Mirai held back her fear.
"What do you remember?"
"All my seedlings…my home…the forest I gave creation to," his voice cracked, and it was then that she realized he was shedding tears. "They're all gone…gone…gone…" He opened his eyes to reveal deep, black pits that were hollow and unseeing. Mirai cried out in terror at such a ghastly face. It was contorted with grief. "Stollen!" The tree shouted. "Devoured! Burned down and charred to a crisp! ANNIHILATED!"
His anguish echoed in the strained groans of his branches reaching beyond the ceiling and up into the rafters. His roots moved with the sickening motion of a thousand dying serpents. Something was gone, something fundamental, and the kodama had somehow been left behind. Mirai had never witnessed the ancient tree in such a state of distress and found it deeply disturbing. It let out a cry that ripped through her soul and she quickly backed away from it as if stung.
"No," she shook her head, "No, this is not how it's supposed to be! I'm not meant to do this alone."
She surveyed the scene with mounting dread. The stone wardens valiantly resisted the curse's onslaught, but their resilience was waning, unable to withstand Sukuna's relentless assault. One tiger lay decapitated, its once-gleaming gems now strewn amidst the rubble. The other stood on three legs, a deep gash threatening to cleave it in two. Its roar reverberated through the chamber like a lament.
"Such noise," Sukuna remarked, his tone tinged with irritation. "Enough."
With a contemptuous flick of his wrist, he unleashed a dark wave of energy, rending the air. Mirai watched, helpless, as both tigers disintegrated into dust, their forms reduced to fine particles that billowed like funerary ash. Turning his attention to the altar next, Sukuna traced a cutting motion with his fingers. The kodama, a writhing, screaming mess of tangled fury, succumbed to his attack. Its trunk splintered, branches crumbling over the desecrated hall.
The room quaked with the force of his destructive power, the once vibrant energy that filled the space now dwindling, leaving behind a hollow emptiness like the dying embers of a once roaring fire. Mirai remained frozen at the altar, her body echoing the damage inflicted upon her allies.
A crushing silence filled the space.
"Do you feel it, the weight of your failure?" Sukuna's voice filled with satisfaction as he turned his attention to her, his grin stretching into something altogether more sinister. "Your sanctuary, your guardians, all succumbing to the hands of a curse. What now, spirit?"
His words hung in the air, followed by his slow, deliberate steps as he crossed the dais. Dizzy and disoriented, Mirai felt the vice-like grip of his hand, her senses reeling as her world spun around her. In a swift, cruel motion, he picked her up and tossed her across the chamber. Her body landed with a sickening thud upon the unforgiving stone floor. Pain lanced through her, every muscle and bone protesting the brutal impact as she fought for breath.
"Pathetic," he sneered. "Your sanctuary is no more, and your powers have proven woefully inadequate against me."
She was bloody and tattered and completely exhausted. Before she could gather her senses, Sukuna materialized before her, looming over her crumpled figure like a vengeful deity, his gaze piercing through her like a dagger. All she could make out was the wrinkle in his cheek from his smirk.
"Well? Anything left to say?"
Above them, the shimrasen shimmered faintly, its golden threads trembling under the strain, each delicate strand threatening to fray into a gaping hole. Mirai watched it dazedly, recognizing that this was the end. Just as the Ryu no Mai had broken into a shower of golden snow, so too did the veil dissolve into a cascade of broken threads. Where the veil disappeared, so too did the shrine. Rapidly, black holes began to appear with alarming speed.
And as the veil continued to unravel, Mirai came face to face with the threat that had been lurking all along as her true enemy revealed itself.
"Oh gods."
A/N: My apologies for the lengthy delay in posting! I swear, the moment I get a wild hair to write seems to be the exact moment life intervenes. And when I have free time, my writer's block sets in.
Mirai – traditionally pronounced Mur-ah-ee, but I catch myself reading it as Mur-eye
Kodama – tree spirit; also Japanese for "echo"
Shimrasen* – golden glamour; derived from the Japanese word shimenawa which is a white tassel rope
Korai* – priestess; derived from the Greek word kore, or young woman/girl
Tanasuya – pronounced Tah-nah-soo-yah; inspired by Kannon, the goddess of mercy, but only loosely
Ryu no Mai – dragon dance (an invented precursor to the contemporary Kinryu no Mai)
Chihaya – ceremonial overgarment
Kosode – white robe with long sleeves; usually worn with pleated red trousers
Kuji kiri – a form of protection grid cut into the air while chanting nine power words
Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
Until next time,
lavendermoonmilk