Nishiki
n. brocade ; adj. gorgeous
( In reference to Fire Emblem Fates: A youko youth from a remote region of Hoshido. Following his father's footsteps, he held the position of leader of the Youko Hamlet and kept his people in order. If he achieves an S-Support, he will have a daughter named Kinu. )
Flannel wasn't wrong in assuming that Nishiki viewed love in a different way than he did. In fact, he was even right to assume that Nishiki was an only child, and his pompous attitude and narcissistic habits were a result from growing up spoiled rotten. Had he any siblings, then maybe he wouldn't act so arrogant all the time, and he wouldn't expect the same level of arrogance from others, as well.
Nishiki often described things as more extravagant than they were, and one of those things included the day of his birth.
He was born on the twelfth of July, in the midst of a hot, sweltering, summer afternoon. The sky shone brightly in the sky, and spirits were high amid the village—not only because the leader's first kit was about to be born, but because of the week-long celebration of the Ceremony of Stars which occurred a few days prior. There was an excited buzz in the air, nearly-tangible electricity that set everyone's hearts aflame and made their grins go wide.
Then, Nishiki was born, and it was a beautiful sight to behold. Of course, he was born in his fox form, first, and youkos were strange in the sense that during the first period of life, they lacked the ability to see, hear, or walk on their own. So although newly-born youkos were rather large foxes (three feet tall in height, five feet long—including the tail—on average) with beautiful features, none of that was properly used or appreciated until they gained their senses back over time.
Nishiki's mother was diligent in nursing him, however. It was typical for the mother to nurse the kits to health, while the father went out to hunt. Although his parents often switched roles, his mother became quickly attached to him, and never left his side as he began to grow well into his body.
When he opened his eyes and saw her for the first time, he realized she was crying. She cried because Nishiki was a "late riser," so to speak, and his time as a deaf, lame, and blind youko lasted longer than it should have. But when he was the equivalent of a four-year-old child, the sense of sight came to him naturally, and his scarlet eyes were bright and round.
Shortly thereafter came the sense of hearing, and Nishiki's ears twitched at the stimulation around him: his mother's quiet sobbing, water rushing over rocks in a nearby stream, summer cicadas crying out into the night, birds flapping their wings as they soared overhead. His own paws scratching at the ground as he stretched and yowled, rising to stand on his own feet for the first time in his life.
She sang to him out of sheer happiness. He did not understand or appreciate beauty at the time, so he couldn't have possibly known what a lovely singing voice his mother had. Even if to human ears, the vulpine sounds were nothing but murmurs and squeaks, her voice resonated well, filling his ears and consuming the air around them.
It translated to the following:
Ah, Inari Okami looks down upon us,
a bright white moon held against the sky.
Walk on four legs on the path before us,
and darling, we will watch as the sun rises high.
You are the sunlight of my life,
you are my savior, my shrine.
Your veins are golden and your blood is rubies,
Inari Okami stains your autumn coat white.
The song was repeated multiple times after that, and strangely enough, Nishiki spent most of his childhood never questioning who Inari Okami was. He knew that the youkos believed in different myths and stories than humans did, and he also understood that there were powerful beings beyond their imagination and comprehension—those grand creatures that put even their quickest sprints and fiercest battle prowess to shame.
Although, if he was being honest, Nishiki never cared too much for the things he couldn't see right in front of him. He grew up without reservations and restrictions, and was cared and loved for by countless foxes around him. The responsibilities of one day becoming the leader of the village hung over him, but their lives were so peaceful at times that he never imagined the transfer of power would come anytime soon. At the time, Nishiki was certain that his father and mother would live for a very long time, and becoming the leader of the Youko-no-Hama would stay as a dream for the far-fetched future.
Yet everything changed when his parents died, and although he didn't sing the song of Inari Okami as much anymore, he would hum it to himself in times of turmoil.
He only hoped that it was sunny, wherever his parents were.
Wherever they are.
.
.
.
"Will I become as beautiful as you are, Mom?" Nishiki asked her one day. He was the equivalent of a six-year-old human child, but in fox form, as his bright red eyes gleamed up at her with curiosity. "My human form, I mean."
"I daresay you might be even more beautiful," she gushed. His mother was a wondrous sight to behold, even in her human appearance: bright blonde hair, layered and straight, with bright brown eyes that had flecks of gold in the irises, all accentuated by a curvy body and impeccable skin. She wore her usual outfit, which consisted of a dark blue haori worn over a simple white kosode, with dark blue leggings and white socks that slid perfectly into her wooden zori, which clicked harmoniously as she walked.
"No, I'm sure of it," she insisted. "You'll be gorgeous."
"Really? You really mean it?"
"I do! I mean it with all of my heart!"
Nishiki smiled widely. "Yay! I can't wait! When will it happen? I want to wear pretty clothes, too!"
"We don't decide when it happens. It comes to us naturally," she reminded him. "This human form which was gifted to us by Inari Okami...we have to be thankful for it, as well."
"Hmm…" Nishiki hummed, pondering her words. He was well-spoken and thoughtful at an early age as the village elders put their all into educating him. He knew how to speak several human languages fluently, and was able to understand the basic concepts of math and philosophy. One of the reasons he wanted his human form to manifest soon enough was to have opposable thumbs to begin writing with.
And yet, whenever someone mentioned Inari Okami, or the process of turning into a "kyuubi-no-kitsune," it went right over his head. He sighed. "I just don't get it. Who is Inari Okami, Mom? And how come we never see them?"
"It's hard to see the Gods," she said. "They're among us, yet they're far away, completely out of our reach."
"How can they be close and far at the same time, though?"
"Oh, sweetheart. It's a bit hard to explain. Once you're older, you'll be able to understand."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Fine," he conceded, not entirely pleased with the outcome. There were so many things in the world that he wanted to know, but the answers were always ready when he was older. Why wasn't anything explained now? "Can I come with you into town next time? I want to see the human settlements, too!"
It was here that Nishiki's habit for traveling and interacting with humans began to form. His mother was the curious type, a bit more so than his father, and she would often head down the mountain—walk amongst the human crowds. Depending on the place, she freely displayed her youko ears and tail, but most of the time she hid underneath a hooded cloak, and kept to the shadows where no one noticed her.
She always returned with the most amazing things, though! Nishiki revelled in the odds and ends she brought home with her, including small toys, jewelry, precious stones, flowers, and books bound in leather. The objects were gorgeous in their own right, and served aesthetic purposes more than they did economical ones. Still, Nishiki loved them, and she made it a point to bring him a souvenir from each new place she visited.
Lately, she had been going to nearby Hoshidan villages, and he owned a growing collection of different talismans and incense as a result. He wanted to see the villages for himself, however—he wanted to see the exorcists, the onmyouji, and the fortune tellers with his own eyes.
She refused him every time he asked. Her eyes hardened at his newly-made proposal as such. "I'll think about it," she said. It wasn't a complete no just yet, and it made his heart soar with excitement. "It's dangerous down there, Nishiki. I don't want you to get hurt."
"But you and Dad always go down there!" he whined. "And I get to stay with the boring elders while you guys are...are having fun! It's not fair!"
"I'll admit, sometimes it is fun, but that's not the main reason why we go down in the first place." She frowned, and Nishiki felt pangs of guilt for making her sad. Or mad. Or displeased. He had a hard time telling which was which. "I'll make you a deal. Once your human form manifests, and once you beat your father and myself in mock battles, then you can come down with us next time. Deal?"
The task was daunting, as there were lots of things to do and seemingly not enough time in the world to do it. Even if he was technically immortal, Nishiki huffed at all the days and nights he'd waste by carrying out her inordinate demands. And yet, if this was the only way to get what he wanted, it had to be done.
"Deal," he agreed. "I'll beat you guys and become human, so then you'll have no choice but to take me with you!"
"Okay, I'll hold you to that promise. But be careful what you wish for, Nishiki."
"Why?"
"It just might come true."
.
.
.
Later that same year, Nishiki's human form came to be, and he was more than ready for it. Some of the other kits in the village already turned, themselves—Nonoka, Arata, Fuyumi, to name some of them—and Nishiki picked out his outfit ahead of time.
If his mother was adventurous, then his father was pragmatic. During their outings into human territory, he made sure to bring back things of importance, whether it was clothes, books, or human medicine. Whatever seemed useful to them, he took, and their tribe was better for it as they indulged in the rare information.
As such, Nishiki picked out a navy-blue yukata, with simple black, shapeless clothing underneath it. It was hard to find children-sized zori, but he picked out the smallest pair of shoes possible, with white tabi socks, much like his mother's. He had the outfit laid out in his personal den, making sure it was clean and well-taken care of, day in and day out.
The moment came when his body morphed on its own, and it happened in isolation, when no one else was there to see it. The rock that Nishiki had been playing with started to glow, and his body convulsed as waves of energy crashed over him—forcing him to fall to the ground out of momentary pain and discomfort. Just as he was about to cry out for help, the worst of it ended, and he laid there for several minutes more, stunned.
The rock was now a stone, and it was amber-bright and smooth to the touch. As he thumbed the surface of it over and over again, he realized that his paws were softer and smaller than before.
He realized he had thumbs.
"No way!" he gasped, and scrambled to sit up. "I-It happened?!" Surely enough, he felt around his body (which was naked, much to his dismay) and found nothing but soft skin in place of his fur. His tail was still there, though, as were his ears. And his claws were less lethal in this form, and looked more like sharp, deformed fingernails. But that was the least of his worries as he hurried to dress himself, eager to complete the change.
Once he was done, he stepped out of his den, and greeted his fellow villagers with a smile. He received incomparable amounts of praise, and he thanked everyone with an equally haughty expression. By the time he reached his parents' den, however, the news of his manifestation already passed throughout the village.
They weren't surprised to see him, but they smiled at him, nevertheless. "Well, well," his mother said. "Would you look at that? It seems I was wrong about you."
"About me?" Nishiki asked. "What do you mean?" Everyone swore I was beautiful, unless they were lying. Oh Gods, I hope they're not lying. I'm not secretly ugly, am I? Oh Gods what do I—
"You're even more beautiful than I imagined. How wonderful."
"Come here, son." His father nodded at the space in between him and Nishiki's mother. "Let me get a closer look at how handsome you are."
Nishiki nodded, and stepped carefully towards his parents. He was worried that he'd have trouble walking in this form, but it was a natural and thoughtless process as he moved, almost as if he had been a humanoid his whole life. Taking a seat between his parents, Nishiki sighed out contentedly as they snuggled into him.
It was during this happy embrace that he realized his father was also in his human form, a rather rare occurrence for the man. Nishiki didn't know it yet, but one day he would grow up to be his father's spitting image. "I'm happy for you, Nishiki," he said. "Now that you are complete, we'll start your training right away."
"For fighting against the humans, right?" Nishiki asked. "And after that, you guys promised to take me to the city. Or the town. Or the village. Or anywhere else, basically."
"We promised," his mother agreed. "But only if you beat the both of us in a mock battle. After all, if you can't hold your own against us, what makes you think we'll take you to where humans live?"
"I know," Nishiki said. "I'm not going to lose to you!"
His father beamed. "That's the spirit! Now, before all that, why don't we celebrate tonight, in honor of you? I brought home some wonderful human foods that we should try out. So far, all of their stuff has been downright terrible, but this is from overseas, so it should be promising."
He reached over next to him, and pulled out a large, black bottle with a red stripe around its base. Nishiki hadn't begun his writing or reading lessons yet, so he couldn't make out what the strange symbols on the stripe were.
"It's called cider," he explained. "It's supposed to taste like apples."
"I like apples!" Nishiki pointed out. "Maybe I'll like cider, too!"
"Then why don't you try it out first?" His father corked the bottle open, and handed it over to Nishiki. "Small sips. And the drink is spirited, which means that it doesn't flow easily like water. Be careful, okay?"
"Okay." Nishiki carefully took the cider from his father, and stared into the opened bottle's depths. The liquid inside was dark and fizzy, although he wondered if it was because the bottle was dark, or because the liquid itself was dark. Or maybe it was both. Either way, he shrugged. "Here goes nothing."
The young boy tilted his head back, brought the bottle up to his lips, and drank. At first, it tasted like nothing, but then his tongue fizzled alive as the drink's "spirits" reached him, and a bittersweet flavor assaulted his nose and mouth. He sputtered and choked, and coughed a few times as he tried to swallow what was left.
His mother simply sighed and rubbed circles on his back, while his father sheepishly smiled and set the bottle aside. "Right, maybe cider wasn't the best drink to have in your new form. Are you alright, Nishiki?"
"I'm okay," he reassured. "It tastes...weird. Like apples, but sour, almost."
"They call that feeling bittersweet," his mother explained. "I like it a lot, myself, but it's not for everyone."
"Bittersweet," Nishiki repeated the word out loud. "I see."
Years had passed since then, yet Nishiki remembered that scene every time he experienced his own version of bittersweet. The current situation with Flannel was a perfect example of it, and as Nishiki ran his fingers over his lips (and missed the sensation of Flannel's lips on his own), he couldn't help but wonder if his parents would be proud of him right now.
Or if they hated him, instead, just like Flannel did.
.
.
.
"I...did it?" Nishiki asked himself, dumbfounded by what he saw. Surely enough, his mother was on the ground before him, her nine-tails twisting about in pain, her muzzle buried in the dirt beneath them. Nishiki sat on top of her, victoriously pinning down her own limbs with his shaky paws. "I won? I won!"
"Yes, you won," she muttered. "Now get off of me!"
"Sorry, Mom!" He jumped off immediately, springing into the air as she groaned and stretched her body out. In her kyuubi-no-kitsune form, her fur was a gorgeous combination of crimson and white, although the strands were messed up from their mock battle, and dirt sullied the snowy color black.
Nishiki himself was no worse for wear, although he had a tiny bruise on his underside, a place where his mother had sneaked underneath and headbutted him. Yet he ignored that—as well as the general discomfort that was a result of physical exertion—as he stood up straight, proud of what he had accomplished.
"I kept up my end of the deal," he reminded her. "It's time to keep yours."
Nishiki conveniently ignored the fact that he only beat his mother in battle, and he simply begged his father to pretend that he lost their mock fight, too. Yet the methodology didn't quite matter in his mind, because Nishiki succeeded in gaining a human form and defeating his parents where it counted.
And it only took him years and years and years of practice to do it! He sat up straight, and huffed loudly.
To this, she rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. I'll keep my promise, I'm aware of our deal. So, since you've been good, and since you've beaten both your father and I, we'll take you with us the next time we go down."
Nishiki beamed. "You mean it?"
"I mean it."
"That's great! Thank you so much! When we get there, I—"
"Excuse me," a third voice called out from the den's entrance. "I'm sorry to interrupt."
Nishiki turned around to see who it was. "Kaneko," he greeted her. She was one of the villagers, notable for being close friends with his mother, as well as being melancholy most of the time. Plus, he recognized her honey-colored braids anywhere. "Hi, you didn't interrupt much, except for the fact that I made my mom eat dust!"
Kaneko looked horrified at his comment, but Nishiki's mother simply laughed. "He's right, you know. So, is something wrong?"
"Ah, nothing is wrong, Nozomi," she murmured. "I just...I wanted to see you."
Nishiki raised a brow, while his mother, Nozomi, stared wide-eyed. "See me? Whatever for?"
"I'm going to visit Hanabi's grave today. You're welcome to come with me, if you want."
Hanabi? Who's that? Nishiki kept his thoughts inside as he looked between his mother and Kaneko. They exchanged wistful glances, almost as if they hadn't seen each other in years, despite the fact that they lived in the same mountain village together all their lives.
Although Nishiki was older at that time—similarly in age and behavior as a thirteen-year-old human boy would be—he still didn't understand the implications in their eyes.
He knew better now, though.
"I'd love to, but I'm afraid now's not the time. You should have asked me before!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't know that you and Nishiki were training here. I should get going—"
"Wait," Nishiki suddenly cut in. "You don't have to leave just because of me! Uh, why don't we all go to Hanabi's grave together?" He offered a compromise between them, although between Kaneko's humiliated expression and his mother's stiff frown, he felt as if he had worsened the situation. "Only if you want to, that is."
"...Nozomi? Would you mind?"
She gazed upon her son with decided slowness, and only moved so she could transform back into her human appearance—an act which did nothing to diminish the intense look in her eyes.
Nishiki withered as Nozomi answered. "I wouldn't. It's about time that I explain some things to him, anyway."
Kaneko's lips formed the barest smile as she nodded. "Very well. Come with me, you two. I'll lead the way."
Kaneko was the type to wear a beautiful kimono in human form, and the long sleeves trailed behind her as she walked. Nishiki stared at the pattern, ogling the way that red and white petals swirled in the silk material, making him think of the cherry blossom season that was yet to come. Just like those blossoms, though, Kaneko's wistfulness felt long overdue, and he always wondered why she looked so sad whenever she laid eyes on his mother.
As they walked, Nozomi was silent, but there was a hardy bearing in her eyes that said otherwise. She wasn't simply stewing in her own emotions and grief, she was thinking about how to explain whatever matter of importance it was to Nishiki, because whatever he was about to see would definitely be far beyond his current understanding.
...Or would it? Nishiki was much older now than he was before, and soon enough he'd grow into a teenager, and then a young adult right after that. He resembled his father so much, Nozomi remembered scenes of their youth as she gazed upon her son, recalling how Hibiki (Nishiki's father) once appeared the same way he did, all those years ago.
Nishiki was older and wiser now.
Nozomi finally accepted it as reality.
,
,
,
Kaneko lead the three of them outside of the village, and further up the mountain where they lived. It was the spring season, but the warmth came to the mountain late, as ice still collected on the side of the paths, and chilly winds blew through the trees, shaking them free of leaves. Nishiki was thankful that even in human form, he had more resistance to the cold, because otherwise he would have started shivering.
After moments of unbearable silence, the three of them reached a clearing that was off the side of the main road. This clearing had a large tree in the center—similar to the knotted tree that the village meetings were held under—covered in snow. Underneath it were several stone slabs, and bundles of flowers placed in random places. Upon closer inspection, Nishiki realized that there were words embedded on the stones, and that the flowers were bouquets left in remembrance.
He hadn't seen one before now, but he read about it in a book. He knew he was staring at a graveyard.
"So…" he began to say. "Where is Hanabi?"
"Her name is written over here," Kaneko said as she drifted to the furthest stone. It was round, slate gray, and had several names and dates scrawled onto it. The first entry in the list said: Hanabi. 7th day of March. Year 0205. We will remember your smile. As Nishiki read further down the list, there were several entries like Hanabi's, with different names and different dates stated, along with a small saying to differentiate between them.
We will remember your smile. Your beauty is eternal. Your strength gives us hope. Our hearts are one. All of which turned Nishiki's chest into butter, and tore his breaths into haggard pieces. He inhaled deeply, and stared up at his mother.
She was crying.
"She must have been important to you," Nishiki said. "Sorry, Mom."
"It's not as if it's your fault," she insisted through the tears. "Did you see the year? That was far before your time. I was so young back then."
The year 0205, if they were basing it off the human calendar (or their own, but the two time systems were similar in nature, anyway), was over nine hundred years ago. Youkos lived for an indiscriminate amount of time, and only died if they were killed by someone or something else. That being said, they reached a higher level of power and enlightenment by becoming something known as kyuubi-no-kitsune, or nine-tailed fox, where their sunset-colored fur turned white-and-red. Those were the sacred colors of Inari Okami themselves, and the transformation was complete after meeting several conditions.
The easiest way to become a nine-tailed fox is to have lived for over nine hundred years. It is said that each tail represents a century, and Inari Okami rewards those who have endured nine of them. Any youko that hasn't done so already will become a kyuubi-no-youko on their nine-hundredth birthday. Nishiki's mother, Nozomi, was an example of such a creature.
There were other ways to "evolve," so to speak. One of those ways was to be an anomaly. Some of the elders in Nishiki's tribe were born in a strange time, where all the youkos became nine-tailed foxes at once, and received their nine tails very early on in life. Another way was to exceed physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual limitations. In times so desperate, a youko may sometimes transform due to stress, power, or both welling up inside of them.
Nishiki's father, Hibiki, was part of this category. He was only a little bit over two centuries old when humans attacked their village, and tried to set their sacred tree on fire. He deterred them, but they set him ablaze, anyway. Instead of dying as he should have, his body absorbed the fire, and his image disoriented into a myriad of white and red colors. By the time the whole ordeal was over, Hibiki was undamaged and newly transformed, with nine tails fanning out behind him like a regal set of wings.
Nishiki was informed of these aspects of youko life early on in his childhood. And yet, Hanabi having died over nine hundred years ago meant that his mother—who was almost a millennium old, herself—knew Hanabi since their youth, and was close enough to her and Kaneko that the two surviving women visited her grave every year.
Maybe they visited her more often than that. Nishiki knew his mother liked to go out a lot.
He gulped. "Can I ask what happened to her?"
"She died."
"No, I mean, how did she die?"
"I don't want to tell you," Nozomi deadpanned.
"She died protecting us," Kaneko sneered.
The mother-and-son duo gaped at Kaneko, speechless. Nozomi was shocked that she would divulge the truth so easily, while Nishiki was floored by the change of tone in her voice. Kaneko was always a distant, sad, and withdrawn creature who'd have never bit back with such vivacity before. Yet the look in her brown eyes was unmistakable, and her hands clenched into fists as she trembled.
"She loved us, and she died for our love. And every day, we act as if that never happened."
"Kaneko—"
"You act as if she never existed!" Kaneko accused. A triad of bright blue fox flames drifted around her, and they flared to life as she screamed. "It must be so easy for you, since you have a new lover now, a child of your own, and a wonderful life as co-leader of the village. You want to know something? No one else forgets their past loves except for you, Nozomi. You're the only one that wants to forget."
"There is a good reason for that!" Nozomi defended. "I don't want to keep obsessing over her like you do! You've been grieving for centuries, Kaneko! Centuries! I can't watch you do that to yourself, and I certainly can't put myself through the same agony." She sucked in a breath, and stepped forth with a newfound authority. "Sorry that I've decided to move on, Kaneko! Sorry that you're still stuck in the past!"
All his life, Nishiki never knew his mother to be the yelling type. Even when he did something wrong, she always reprimanded him in a stern yet cool voice—not once did she rely on violence, fear, or red-hot anger to get her message across. She was always deliberate, careful, and delicate, in her own sort of way.
Things were different now. She strained her voice to the highest it would go. Her entire body trembled, and her eyes burned as the thoughts—the lies and the truths—got mixed up in her head at once. Nozomi completely forgot about Nishiki's presence as she glared at Kaneko, seething with unabashed rage.
"Mom?"
Mom, that's right. I'm the mom. What am I even doing? She remembered herself, and—without stopping to explain or even apologize—ran off.
Nishiki watched as she blurred through the woods and disappeared down the trail.
When he looked back at Kaneko, she was also crying.
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I...I ruined everything."
"I'm sure Mom will forgive you," Nishiki lied. He wasn't sure of that at all, but he was well-versed in the art of subtlety. "I never knew about this. Can you tell me more about Hanabi, and how close she was to you guys?"
Kaneko stayed silent for a few moments, pondering. As she wiped the tears from her eyes, a quiet laugh escaped her lips. "Funny how she promised to 'explain' things to you, then leaves you here with me to do all the explaining. Typical Nozomi."
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to."
"It's fine," she insisted. "You've seen the grave, and you already know...so I might as well tell you."
She gestured to the ground, and Nishiki sat down next to her obediently. He never spent so much time with her before—he often played with the foxes his age, or spent time with his parents, or was tutored by the elders—and so at first, it felt awkward. But Kaneko began to hum a familiar song underneath her breath, and Nishiki harmonized with her effortlessly.
When they were done, she sighed. "You are aware that your mother and father love each other, yes?"
"I am."
"You know that foxes tend to be very...open when it comes to love, yes?"
"So I've been told."
"Okay. Well, a long time ago, before your father was even born, your mother and I were friends with another fox our age. Her name is...was...Hanabi."
Nishiki said nothing, and Kaneko took it as a signal to continue. "We grew up together. I was always the quiet one, Nozomi was the snappy one, and Hanabi was the funny one. The elders used to joke that we were a punishment for them, sent down by Inari Okami themselves."
"That's funny, because the elders said the same thing about me."
She laughed. "I like your humor, Nishiki. You must have gotten that from your father—your mother's no fun at all."
"Maybe," he muttered, feeling defensive but not wanting to start up another conflict. "Keep going."
"Well, Hanabi was beautiful. Lovely, even. She was smart and capable, leading the hunting parties any chance she got. As soon as she was old enough, she learned how to fight, and always kept humans at bay. If possible, she was the most perfect being in existence."
"It sounds like you love her a lot."
"I do. And I did. I fell in love with Hanabi so easily. We spent our entire lives together, after all." Kaneko smiled, and it was the first time that Nishiki remembered seeing her so genuinely happy. "I didn't tell her at first, because I was too afraid."
"Of what?"
"Afraid that I wasn't good enough for her. Afraid that she deserved more than me. She was perfection incarnate, and here I am, a sad excuse for a youko if there ever was one."
"If it counts for something, I think you're pretty cool."
"Why, thank you. That's rather sweet of you to say."
"So did you ever tell her that you loved her?"
"Eventually, I did."
"So what happened?"
"...She said 'I love you too' and we kissed."
Half of him wanted to go aw, while the other half wanted to yell ew. He decided to keep his whole thoughts inside, though, and merely squeaked out, "That's great!"
"It was. But things got complicated. You see, although we loved each other, we also realized that our feelings weren't contained in one place. The two of us fell in love with another."
"...Mom?"
"That's right. Nozomi was our friend, too, and we've known her since forever. She grew up alongside with us, and as time passed on, her feelings for us increased, as well."
"So...the three of you...loved each other?"
"Yes."
"Equally?"
"Yes."
"And you became lovers?"
"Yes."
"Then Hanabi—"
"Died protecting us, as I said. That year, our hamlet was invaded by a small army hired by suspicious nobles in Hoshido. They feared the 'god-eating monsters' that loomed over their land, and wanted us dead. We were old enough to fight, so the three of us worked hard to protect our home."
"..."
"It was supposed to be me," Kaneko bemoaned. "I was supposed to die. I got cornered by the last of the humans, and they had their weapons at the ready. But right before that happened, Hanabi jumped in and fought them off. She bit at them and screamed. S-She…"
Nishiki regretted asking, if only for the fact that Kaneko began to choke on her words, eyes filling up with tears once more. It was a shame that she appeared so beautiful, even when sad, because he couldn't help but stare at her in unending admiration and awe as she broke down carefully, slowly—into millions of pieces.
"She...told me to leave...to save myself. And I was scared, so I ran, but I promised to get help. I got your mother, and the two of us went back to save her, but by the time we reached her—"
"She was already gone."
"Y-Yes."
"Did you and my Mom...did you and Nozomi still stay together after that?" Nishiki asked gently, voice barely above a whisper. He had a vague suspicion that his very existence brought Kaneko pain.
He was right as she hesitated to answer. "We tried. But every encounter was worse than the last, and we couldn't help but think of Hanabi whenever we saw each other. Eventually, we decided to stop being lovers, and your mother—Nozomi—and I saw less and less of each other."
"You've been talking more recently, though."
"I guess we have. It's taken me some time to get to this point. And, to be honest, at first, I detested you for being born."
Although he should have felt guilty or angry from hearing that, Nishiki merely shrugged it off. "You know what? The elders have said the exact same thing to me, too."
Kaneko laughed. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed, to the point where Nishiki thought his reply wasn't that funny in the first place, but he knew that she wanted to get the feelings out of her chest more than anything else. "I guess you're right! But it's the truth. When your mother got together with your father, and when they weren't yet parents back then, I talked to her. I asked if she still loved me, and she said yes, but because of...because of how sad I was over Hanabi, still, she didn't want to pursue anything with me."
"Does she still love you now?"
"I'm not sure," Kaneko admitted. "If I'm being honest, she probably hates me for what I said to her earlier. I know I stepped over a line. Nozomi and I treat Hanabi's death differently. She wants to forget, but I don't. Maybe it's because I was the one who was supposed to die instead, but...but now? I don't know."
"I don't think she hates you," Nishiki countered. "Actually, I think she cares a lot about you. I mean, why would she worry about you and yell at you for being so sad if she didn't care?"
"That's…"
"Love is open and free, right? Even if she's stopped seeing you, I don't think she's stopped loving you. Like, Dad still hangs out with one of his old lovers, Hohemi, and I think that guy's annoying—oh, crap! Don't tell him I said that, okay?"
Kaneko laughed again. "I wish you had known Hanabi. I think you and her would have gotten along well!"
"You think so?" He grinned. "Well, we can't change the past, but I'd like to think that if she were around, she'd let me go with my parents to human settlements without doing weird promises or trials beforehand."
"Humans are dangerous, Nishiki," she reminded him. "Unfortunately, I agree with Nozomi on this matter."
"Gee, thanks."
"I think I've talked your ears off enough for today." Kaneko sighed as she stood to her feet, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her already-pristine kimono. She helped Nishiki to stand, as well, and patted his head affectionately. "You're a good boy, Nishiki. I think your parents are lucky to have you."
"Thanks, but sometimes I think it's the other way around."
"Even better," she said. "Now, let's head back, and don't you worry about Nozomi. I'll make sure to apologize to her later."
"Okay."
"Just promise me one thing," Kaneko asked. She held out her pinkie to him—a human gesture at making a promise, as he once read in a book—in a show of faith. "Promise me that if you ever fall in love when you're older, you won't forget about that love. Promise me that no matter what happens, no matter who you get involved with, you'll cherish them all the same. You shouldn't forget them like Nozomi, but you also shouldn't...obsess over them like I do. Promise?"
"I don't know if I can do all of that," he confessed. "But I'll try. I promise." Nishiki wrapped his pinkie around Kaneko's, and the two of them laughed as the embrace was oddly warm and comforting. Then she let go of his hand, and turned her back towards him with a forlorn sigh.
"Let's go home. It's getting cold."
"Alright."
He followed after her lead, not realizing that as they left, the tree's snow started to melt, and the first blossoms of spring had begun to bloom.
.
.
.
It was odd how fate worked. Fate had it in store for both Nozomi and Hibiki, who died three weeks after Nishiki's first excursion to human territory. They did good on their promise, though: they brought their son to various villages, cities, and towns alike, and they explored the human realm and all it had to offer. They tasted food, enjoyed good music, found new sights, and walked where no youko had previously gone before. All the while, Nishiki wondered why they continued to hunt humans, and kill off anyone that got too close to their village in the mountains.
He found out the reason for this all too soon. His mother gave him a precious pearl comb for his birthday, one that he carried around with him to this day. It was white, pristine, and absolutely dazzling in every way possible. He wanted to return the favor to her, and he wanted to buy something for his father, as well. So, on a cold night, when his parents were both asleep, Nishiki snuck out of his den, and trekked down the mountain.
He wandered for hours as he explored a busy city's night market. However, caught in between rough human hands in a crowd, his hood came undone, and his youko ears were visible to the whole world.
Before he could even react, he felt something sharp stick itself in his side. He yelped and howled, horrifically discovering that someone jabbed a blade into his hip. The metal was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, however. It burned and stung, causing his limbs to weaken and his mind to go hazy. Gasps erupted in the crowd around him, and people screamed as they backed away from him. Then a loud voice boom over him.
"Looks like we got ourselves a youko," someone jeered. "How much money do you think we'll get for him?"
"Kids are good because they can be bred, so I reckon we'll get a lot," another voice said. "Just our luck, too."
Nishiki stared up at two human men that brandished a myriad of weapons. The rest of his surroundings—the people, the kiosks, the night sky hanging over them all—sunk into darkness as his thoughts dialed in on one singular notion. Hunters. Hunters. Hunters. Poachers. Beast killers. Deadly weapons.
I'm dead.
Without thinking, Nishiki ran out of the town square, past all the screaming people and the fearful gazes. He ducked underneath beckoning arms and greedy hands, slapping away limbs that wanted to capture him, hurt him, or do even worse things to him.
He made it to the base of the Youko-no-Hama, and home never seemed farther away than it did just then. All he had to do was climb, bound up the paths, and hide in his parents' den. He hadn't fought off actual humans before, so he didn't know what to do.
He focused on the pain, and ducked behind a tree to find some reprieve. Nishiki fumbled for his beaststone, and thought hard about deterring his attackers—snapping at their heels and clawing out their eyes.
But his whole body ached and stung, and he wasn't sure if he was up to such energetic violence quite yet. Instead, he decided that he would transform at once, and sprint the rest of the way back.
He clasped the stone and closed his eyes. However, seconds passed, and nothing happened.
Nishiki gasped. "N-No, what's going on? M-My…" He rubbed his hands over the surface of the stone. It glowed dimly at his touch, giving him a sense of hope, but it diminished as quickly as the light had appeared.
"You think we stabbed ya with a normal blade? Idiot."
Nishiki sprung to his feet, and found himself surrounded by the poachers from before. Even though night had fallen, they wielded torches that set their surroundings alight, and Nishiki spotted even more humans in the shadows. His heart plummeted through his chest as he counted up all of the enemies before him.
Too many to survive through.
They laughed. "That blade is enchanted. It weakens beasts, and makes them unable to switch forms for some time. Pretty neat, huh?"
"W-Why…?"
"Y'know, it sucks that you're a kid. I figured you'd look more like a monster, but if anything, you kinda look like my nephew." One of them awkwardly sighed as he scratched at the back of his head. "I'll cut you some slack, kid. We won't kill you right away. Just come along with us and no one gets hurt."
"No way! I-I won't go with you. You're bad," he scolded. "You're bad people. I'll never go with you!"
"So, you want to do this the hard way, huh? Well, don't say I didn't warn you." The man shrugged, and turned towards his comrades. "Make it quick, boys."
"No!" Nishiki shrieked, sprinting through a gap in their formation. A chorus of screams followed after him, and his ears were drowned in the cacophony of metal screeching, footsteps thundering, and voices exploding. Someone's hand grabbed at his shoulder in the midst of chaos, and the breath was taken out from under him as he felt something knee him in the stomach, hard.
As he crashed to the ground, he heard a familiar voice call out to him.
"NISHIKI!"
He looked up and met eyes with his mother, whose vibrant image was frantic and blurred. Was it because she was moving so quickly, or because his injury was making him lightheaded? He didn't have much time to think about it as she swept him up from under her, protecting his bloody body with her warm fur.
Nishiki peered up from underneath his mother, witnessing the sight of his father running out from behind them, facing the poachers head on. "GET HIM OUT OF HERE!" Hibiki shouted. "GO, NOW!"
"Dad!"
Nishiki remembered the rest in pure clarity—almost as if the memories were played like pictures in his mind. Everything moved slowly, a step away from retrograde, but fast enough to devastate him in the same turn. His muscles ached, eyes strained, and neck turned as he glanced behind him, witness to the scene that was his undoing.
His father took out so many hunters, as expected of their village leader. But he made a small error in the heat of the moment—he stepped too far right than he'd like to—and a man from the bushes leaped out and stabbed him through with his lance. Nishiki couldn't scream in the time it took for three archers to reveal themselves, as well, and shoot Hibiki's hide full of enchanted arrows.
"Don't look," Nozomi pleaded. "Avert your gaze."
"Mom, Dad is—"
"DON'T LOOK."
Nishiki, against his better judgement, shut his eyes, and banished away the terrible images from his mind. Although his world turned dark, he knew very well what kind of sight would be waiting at the base of the mountain. Spilled blood, clumps of fur, broken pieces of weapons and clothing—Hibiki's dead body shaved and broken for his pelt. He listened to his mother, gave into her demands, but nothing she said could stop the horror from replaying itself in his mind.
Later that night, Nozomi headed down the mountain, and exacted revenge on the hunters that killed her mate. She would kill every last one of them, and when it came down to the last confrontation, her and the final poacher took each other's lives, both of their bodies coming to a standstill in the middle of the treacherous woods.
Nishiki isolated himself that year, and refused to take on any of his parents' duties—still in denial over their deaths. Then, when he emerged from his den the following spring, everyone sat patiently awaiting him, and at the forefront of the crowd was none other than Kaneko herself.
"I'm so sorry," Nishiki sobbed as he collapsed in her arms. "It's all my fault. I wanted to save them. I couldn't do anything! I tried so hard. I tried—"
"It's alright," Kaneko insisted. She cradled the boy in her arms, and shushed his frantic sobs. "It's okay."
"It's not!" he wailed. "It's not okay."
"Well, then you just have to pretend it is," she murmured. "For their sakes. For our sakes."
For your sake.
.
.
.
If Nishiki's parents were alive today, what would they think of him? Would they be angry at him for inadvertently causing their deaths? Would they scorn and ridicule him, mocking his weakness and curiosity in those crucial moments? Or would they be proud of him, instead—proud of the strength he accrued, proud of the way he protected the hamlet with all of his being, as they once did themselves? Would they be happy for him and his newfound adventures and ever-expanding mindset? Would they be excited for his growth and endless possibilities?
What would they have to say about Flannel, too? Would they sneer and say that Nishiki could do better? Would they ogle the wolf, and wonder what kind of charms he had in order to make their son fall head-over-heels for him? Would they accept him as one of their own?
Nishiki often thought of these things. He often wondered what his parents' reactions would be to every critical moment in his life. Had he not been so naive in the past, then his parents would be able to tell him themselves, and they wouldn't be memories and names in stone only. They wouldn't be decomposed matter, absorbed into the very earth they walked and lived in, gone with the ever-changing winds. If Nishiki did just one thing differently, his parents might be alive today.
But perhaps it happened for a reason. Maybe the reason why Nishiki was put through such agony at a young age was to prepare him for the mindset of war. Maybe the reason why Nishiki was so eager to be amongst the humans was to ready him for joining their forces in the far away future.
Maybe the reason why Nishiki experimented with love so much was so he could find the one—the singular person that could rein him in, and make him see that there was so much more to life than appearances or perfunctory relationships. Maybe it was all planned from the very beginning.
No matter the answer, Nishiki knew this above all else: he knew that everything in his life led up to the present, and his present days were full of adventure and fun. His present days were made brighter and better, and it was thanks to a particular person—a rather fussy wolf who was currently mad at Nishiki right now.
If Nozomi and Hibiki were alive, they would be kicking Nishiki's ass into motion, scolding him for letting go of the best love of his life.
And now that they weren't alive? Well, his feelings didn't change much in that regard.
Hang in there, Flannel, he thought to himself. We'll save you from Mara. And then after that?
Nishiki glanced at the darkening sky and smiled.
I'll save you from myself.