Chapter Sixteen

His Name Is Suminoe

Part 2 of 2

To Nekohiko's dismay, Abihiko only gave him an irritated look. The other boys in the group burst out laughing.

"Look, Abihiko. Another one in love with you!"

"I told you all girls are mad about him. Lucky bastard."

They didn't stop on their way and would soon disappear into the bushes, so Nekohiko yelled the loudest he'd ever had. He was mad, but more because none of these people took him seriously. And he needed them to, if only for today.

"Are you a coward, Abihiko?" he screamed. "Are your friends cowards, too? Come back here now!"

And then, when all he received from them was more mockery and laughter, he screamed out a word he'd heard several times in the last three months. A word he didn't understand but a word that started fights whenever it was uttered. Especially in regards to someone's female relative. Any insult worked for him so long as he was dragged out of the Head Priest's office.

He'd ask someone about what the word meant later.

"Abihiko, your mom is a slut!"

The word worked like magic.

The speed with which the group flocked to the window of the Head Priest's office scared Nekohiko. The stark paleness of Abihiko's face only more so.

"Say that again," Abihiko demanded.

Nekohiko hesitated. He didn't want to repeat something he didn't understand, but then, he did want to get out of the office to help Saho...

"I hate you," he instead said to the meager chuckles of the closest boy.

The boy gave Abihiko a roll of his eyes. "She's only brave enough to yell these things behind your back, huh?" The boy leaned to Nekohiko, condescending. "Sweetheart, pick some other way to make people pay attention to you."

"Repeat what you said earlier," Abihiko said again. "About my mom."

"No. You heard me the first time," Nekohiko said.

Abihiko's face changed colors in patches from ghostly to enraged red and his fists trembled visibly within his sleeves. But so far, he wasn't acting on it, perhaps solely because this was the Head Priest's office.

Too bad.

"Coward." Nekohiko turned away from the window as though to disappear back into the room.

In a rush, Abihiko's fingers reached over the sill and clasped Nekohiko's shirt lapel. He wasn't strictly entering the Head Priest's office yet, so no spell alarms went out. But it was enough for him to gain hold of Nekohiko. And yank him over to the window so hard, Nekohiko's shoulder smashed into the frame.

"Drag her out! Drag her!"

"She deserves to learn a lesson or two!"

Abihiko's arm twined around Nekohiko's shoulders, his boot pushed against the wall to help him haul Nekohiko over the sill. Nekohiko didn't resist; he even helped the other boy himself. The guarding system the Head Priest had set around his office let them out as one creature, entwined, all limbs and screaming mouths. Not even a trace of the spell could stop Nekohiko from leaving like this.

Freedom.

The two crashed onto the flower patch outside the window. Above them, boys and some girls who'd heard the commotion from afar and had run over were screaming, thrilled. All of them on Abihiko's side, of course. Yet Nekohiko didn't even think about it -- he only needed to get up and find the changed Head Priest in the crowd of people before something terrible happened between him and Saho.

Nekohiko rolled off Abihiko to try and stand up but immediately got shoved back by one of the closest roaring kids.

"Kick her ass, Abi! Don't let her off so easy!"

"Out of my way!" Nekohiko told that kid and wanted to push through.

But his knees gave in when a hard blow landed on them from the back. Abihiko kicked him down and already gripped him tight to keep in place. Nekohiko pushed his hands against Abihiko's chest to get the other boy off himself but Abihiko used it to his advantage. His arms locked around Nekohiko's throat while his swift, perfectly trained body already found the best position for subduing his opponent -- pushed underneath him, unable to flee and unable to resist.

With only one arm, Abihiko twisted both of Nekohiko's hands out of the way. His enraged, grim face leaned close, forcing Nekohiko to writhe even more from how much he hated the proximity.

"What did you say about my mom?" Abihiko breathed into his face, clutching Nekohiko's throat even firmer. "Repeat it to me now if you dare?"

A grunt escaped Nekohiko's lips as he fought, uselessly, against someone as proficient as Abihiko. There was no way he'd ever win against him. The difference in training was simply too huge.

"Say it!"

After a while, Nekohiko stopped resisting at all. There was clearly no point to it and losing now only meant that all these exhilarated bullies would leave him alone sooner. He lay lifeless under Abihiko's hold, looking to the side, only waiting for the group to finally be done with him. If Abihiko wanted to hit him, so be it.

Saho was all that mattered.

He'd miscalculated the amount of rage his lack of resistance evoked in the ever-growing pack of children who came to see something exciting and were denied it. The yells to kick him even though he was already defeated just so that he'd never forget this day came more and more from the back.

Yet Abihiko lost interest almost immediately. 

"Let's go." He patted his clothes straight and pushed himself off Nekohiko as though disgusted. "She's not worth my time or effort."

Moans and groans followed as the majority of kids were frustrated that such a great chance to see someone's ass whooped ended up being nothing. Nekohiko didn't stir for as long as it took for the last of the nearby kids to scatter with disgruntled commentaries under their noses. One of the boys even stepped on Nekohiko's fingers to see if Nekohiko would react, and some annoying girl threw a palmful of dirt at Nekohiko's face. He closed his eyes, enduring it all.

Only when he was sure no one was watching, he scrambled up to his knees, then slowly worked his way to standing. Abihiko was a beast. When he really took it upon him to hurt a kid his size, it reverberated through their bones many, many hours afterward. Nekohiko wiped his face and the upper half of his body, still unnerved by the lingering touch of someone pushing so aggressively on top of him. Then he limped down the garden to where he'd seen Saho last.

The afternoon was at its peak, gilding everything in sight and filling the air with swelter. Cedar alley twinkled with chimes above, and all the flags and ribbons trailed in the rising wind. People and kids still shifted across the Shrine square but fewer than before. Nekohiko scanned their midst for Saho and didn't find her. Most of the people must have descended the Shrine steps and gone back into the town to continue the festival celebrations there. Food stalls and restaurants were open for the visitors hungry after the morning ceremony, so naturally, all the guests gravitated there. Nekohiko followed their lead, peering into the faces of all young women he spotted and trying to recognize all little boys in the Shrine uniforms as the one the Head Priest had turned into.

The Izumo town's streets greeted him with cacophony and festival attractions and games on every corner. His sight skittering along the never-ending lines of people, he noted Lord Okinaga resting under the eaves of a tea house, and Abihiko's mom further away, chatting with Okinaga's wife as they browsed goldfish in translucent jelly bubbles in one of the stores. Kotone laughed along with some older Shrine girls and several other people Nekohiko knew bustled in the trading venues and music stalls. Then, as he was almost worn out with fruitless searching -- the pale dress caught his attention.

A young woman, by the dripping fountain. Staring numbly at the small child before her.

The Head Priest! Saho!

The two of them were talking about something and the Head Priest's frail hand reached out to hold hers.

Nekohiko had to listen to what they were saying. He had to know. Throwing a quick glance around, Nekohiko bolted into the tight space between two houses where nobody would be able to see him. He shrugged off the outer green shirt of his uniform and fumbled untying the knots on his floor-length martial skirt. Everything green and noticeable flew on the ground in a crumpled ball, leaving Nekohiko only in his inner garments of a white shirt and black pants. He knelt in the dirt, sweeping his hands over the grime caking on the ground to smear on his face.

It was a crude disguise but at least something to make his features not as recognizable. At best, he now looked homeless, and however little time he'd spent in the outside world, he had learned that most people were blind to homeless kids sneaking around. Last touch -- tying his hair up like boys at School did. With that, he was ready to venture closer to Saho.

Except she was not where he'd seen her last. Both she and the Head Priest were gone.

Nekohiko ran past the open stalls and loud hawkers, head swerving. There -- at the end of the next street. A woman and a little boy walking side by side holding hands. Walking where?

Then he understood. Saho was leading the Head Priest further and further away from the crowds. Out of the town.

Parallel to them, a cloaked figure was moving discreetly. The person wore a bamboo hat, drawn low over their face, so the only thing about them Nekohiko saw was the tip of their pale chin. They weren't very noticeable and didn't do anything suspicious either. Only browsing the goods lazily, yet never letting Saho out of their sight.

How odd. Should Nekohiko follow this person, too?

Just then, as Saho and the Head Priest hid from Nekohiko beyond another wave of people, the stranger in a bamboo hat turned their face.

And looked directly at Nekohiko as though having heard his thoughts.

From underneath the bamboo hat's edge, a thin line of lips showed. A slight curve twitched at their ends as though the person was content about something. But not enough to actually smile. The person abandoned their task of spying on Saho and instead slowly advanced toward Nekohiko, long arms hidden in the roomy folds of their cloak.

Nekohiko had been clinging to the entrance arch before the butcher's shop, peeking from behind it. He hadn't expected to be found out so quickly -- he'd tried to be inconspicuous! But now that he'd been seen, he had no choice but to flee regardless if the person approaching him were a friend or a foe.

He rounded to scamper away and flew right into the body of another person standing close behind him. The force of slamming into them pushed him backward, making him lose balance and stagger. But it wasn't just the hardness of this person's body that astounded him. The body exuded an almost unnatural chill and a terrible, vile smell that Nekohiko sniffed only directly touching them.

Nekohiko held his breath, looking up.

The hooded figure before him was familiar. So familiar it ached to see their face so close and so chalky and... distorted. Hachiro.

Nekohiko's own bodyguard. Only... also not him.

Hachiro had the same blank stare as Saho had, and the way he both looked straight at Nekohiko and clearly wasn't seeing him sent shivers down Nekohiko's spine. Nekohiko recoiled, a gasp of horror forming on his lips but Hachiro was faster. With the same gruesome crackle with which Saho had moved, Hachiro slapped his arm toward Nekohiko.

The strength of his fingers on Nekohiko's wrist was like a shackle. Like what Bound Servants would do when they held someone. A lifeless, impersonal touch.

"No-- wait, I don't know anything!" Nekohiko cried, jerking his hand to free it, and failing. He tried to squirm, and tried to cry out to the passersby, but...

The closest person to him was that Bamboo Hat from earlier. And this person did not look remotely like they wanted to help. A cold gleam of a metallic object flashed in their rising hand.

"Please!" he yelped when a harsh, icy-cold palm of Hachiro's clamped down on his mouth, smothering any of his cries.

So... easily?

He would die here, in the middle of the street?

"Mmmmnnfg!" he begged, fighting. To the death, if need be.

A whoosh of air whipped past the Bamboo Hat, dislodging the hat and tumbling it aside in a blink of an eye. The person underneath it halted only for the length of a heartbeat but the delay was enough.

The changed Head Priest was already above her, descending down as though mid-jumping off a roof. His green robes flashed in a blur as he bounced his feet off a building's eave and plunged at the lean woman.

Yes. The person under the Bamboo Hat turned out to be a woman. A memory of that faraway night in the woods behind the Shrine flickered in Nekohiko's mind: the ghouls, the horrible woman who had asked him who he was and how old he was.

And with it, came realization. Those two ghouls the woman had asked him to recognize in the woods -- one young cadaverous man, and one old. Could they have been--?

Hachiro and Kusaki?

And like Saho and Hachiro -- did it mean that Kusaki, too, had been... killed and reborn as a ghoul to hunt Nekohiko down?

All the people in the whole world that Nekohiko had ever known and loved. All three of them.

Used against him.

The slow street erupted in shrieks and gasps and stomping on all sides when the Head Priest struck. People pointed and shouted, some others began pushing each other to get out of the fighting zone.

The Bamboo Hat woman twirled to escape the Head Priest's strike. She tumbled, balancing perfectly on just her arm stand as she hand-sprung to avoid his further attacks. She landed in a low crouch, her eyes glinting hatefully at the Head Priest. Like a lash, one of her hands jerked, stretching toward Nekohiko. The metallic object she'd had in her fingers zoomed through the air with a tinny whistle -- and right into Nekohiko's face.

He didn't have time to dodge, so fast it happened. He wouldn't be able to avoid it even if he tried because of how rigidly and securely Hachiro's ghoul held him. The only thing in his power was to shut his eyes, cold with dread.

But instead of a knife, only a hot spray of liquid exhaled at his face. He reeled, gasping for breath as the overwhelming scent of blood caught him.

His eyes flew open.

All he saw was the tall, adult version of the Head Priest straightening from a hunch before him. The man signed a few sharp Binding gestures in the air, and then --

-- a dark windless veil brushed through the street. An ethereal gust. After it passed, neither the Head Priest nor the Bamboo Hat woman was here anymore.

Both vanished like mere shadows at noon.

Hachiro's hand let go of Nekohiko only for a second as the ghoul stumbled backward, heaving as if in terrible pain. Nekohiko didn't waste his chance. Heart drumming, breath hitched, he bolted. It was odd, he thought, that the Head Priest's doorway into the Spiritside hadn't taken Hachiro's ghoul with him. Last time, it had. But now Hachiro merely grunted in agony for a few seconds. The next moment, he was as mobile and as fixed on chasing after Nekohiko as he'd been before.

Nekohiko bumped into overturned stalls and ran into panicking people. He was too frightened to stop or to think of a better escape route when, a few feet ahead, he saw that he was running directly into the ghoulish Saho's arms.

Saho, his beloved, sweet, gentle nurse, stood in the middle of the street. Her shoulders hunched vulture-like, her eyes with a feral gleam. She waited, while behind him, Hachiro's heavy footsteps dashed down the street, forcing Nekohiko further and further into Saho's direction as the dead guard shoved screaming people aside.

He didn't even know which of the two to defend against. Singly on the meager fighting instinct he possessed, he turned to Hachiro the moment before Hachiro's bony hand went in to grab him. Nekohiko was ready to fight with whatever he had in him.

But he didn't need to.

A butcher's cleaver shone bright in the air as its wide blade hacked right through Hachiro's arm, sending blood and bone splinters flying.

Eyes and mouth agape, Nekohiko watched as a woman he knew -- a woman in the flaming-red robes and with searing-red lips -- swiveled the cleaver around, then slashed it into Hachiro's other arm he raised to punch her.

Asazuma. Abihiko's mom.

Hachiro deflected her second strike, barely reacting to the fact that one of his arms had just been hacked off. He dropped low, dashing a boot into Asazuma's ankles, but she was faster. She sidestepped, hacked at his thigh, and -- sinuously and gracefully -- landed a bone-shattering kick into his neck.

From the impact, Hachiro crashed to the ground. But he didn't stop moving.

Even with the shards of bone jutting out of his throat, he was still able to move, reaching out to Nekohiko.

Frozen before the twisted body of a man he'd once treated like his family, Nekohiko couldn't even think straight. He saw blearily how the haggard monster of Saho's corpse dashed toward him only to be stopped by a powerful male figure. The man in the black robes gilded at the edges, wielding the slender, elegant sword on his hip.

Lord Okinaga.

He and Asazuma twirled and swept around Nekohiko, too fast for him to see what exactly they were doing other than to admire the ease and synchronicity of their attacks. They fought against three ghouls, even though Nekohiko hadn't noticed when the third had joined the other two.

So... three. Saho, Hachiro, and Kusaki. All of his guardians, now nothing more than disjointed, dilapidated puppets of former humans, unable to be killed and impossible to stop.

A firm, hard hand gripped Nekohiko's shirt, hefting him off the ground a moment before Saho's predatory lunge landed where he'd just been. Lord Okinaga held Nekohiko tight under his arm, checking to see if Asazuma by the butcher's shop was having trouble fighting off two male ghouls at once. But she wasn't, so Okinaga bounced off the street to soar onto the nearest building roof. Nekohiko was no heavier than a small log to him, and Okinaga barely paid him attention. The Lord threw a searching look down the adjacent alley where there still were people hiding away from the hell that went on the main street.

"Daichi!" Okinaga called, and one of the men looked up. "Take the child and get him to safety!"

And with that, not even bothering to see what the child he'd just rescued looked like, Okinaga gave Nekohiko a light push down the slope at the end of which a burly young man named Daichi waited to catch him with both arms spread wide. Nekohiko glanced back, breath trapped in his throat. Lord Okinaga and Asazuma...

They were fine, though. With an experienced combination of martial arts and Binding techniques, Asazuma had already immobilized Hachiro, fusing his body with the wall of one of the buildings. Saho and Kusaki would pose no real threat to her now that Okinaga landed gracefully beside her, ready to fight with her as if it was an invitation to dance, not to destroy.

"It's all right, child! It's all right!" The man named Daichi crushed Nekohiko in his suffocating embrace and pulled him down onto the street where a group of adults and kids were squeezed into the backyard of one of the restaurants, eyes wide, faces pale, listening to the noises of fighting.

Abihiko's dad was among them and so was Okinaga's wife.

"Almost ripped the little kid apart," Daichi told Abihiko's dad. "Those ghoul-raisers are becoming more and more unruly by the day! Which one was it! Third this month?"

Abihiko's dad numbly accepted Nekohiko in their midst and just as numbly let go of Nekohiko's arm when Nekohiko wriggled out. "Where is the Izumo Head Priest?" the man asked.

Daichi went down the alley to see if Okinaga needed him for anything but turned to answer. "In the Spiritside. He must have wanted to isolate the ghoul-raiser." Daichi dithered as if listening to something only he could hear. "They're fighting on in the Spiritside this very moment. The Head Priest will return once it's over. Don't worry, Master."

The people around descended into rustling whispers, asking, worrying, sharing their fears with each other. Nekohiko slumped against the wooden wall, exhausted and dazed.

What had just happened to him was such a kick in the gut. All of it. But the Head Priest... fighting somewhere else, and with that terrible wound he had received when he'd jumped in front of Nekohiko to shield him from the knife...

His fingers shook as they lifted to caress his cheek spattered with the Head Priest's blood. Nekohiko shut his eyes, then readily dropped to his knees. His hands formed a praying gesture as he turned his whole body in the direction of the Great Izumo Shrine.

He breathed in and out, calming himself enough to speak. To inquire.

Great Fox Spirit of the Head Priest. Please help me. I want to know if the Head Priest is all right.

I want to help him, too. But I don't know how.

Please tell him I'm safe and that I--

Even before he finished, a wave of a dark force passed through him like an ethereal wind come from beyond. Which, he supposed, it was.

This wind was the gateway to the Spiritside, opening and closing solely for him.

He dared to open his eyes. In front of him, peering at him unreadably, stood the gigantic white Fox Spirit with crimson markings on its forehead and with the fluff of its nine tails rising peacock-like behind its back. The Spirit-friend of the Head Priest's. It was translucent as Nekohiko had seen it previously but somehow also more solid this time. It was the world around the two of them that seemed transparent and irrelevant, somehow fablelike. Everything surrounding them had a ghostly quality -- drab, grimly grey or black, brittle, wavering like a mirage. Or maybe like a nightmare. The buildings, the ground, the sky -- everything. Except for the people.

There were no people here. The backyard of the restaurant Nekohiko had been in earlier was still the same but empty and devoid of life. He was the only person here, and even he -- his hands, his feet, his very clothes -- seemed surreal and elusive to his eyes.

So this was the Spiritside? A place that was home for the Spirits and an endless wasteland for the humans?

Nekohiko started asking something of the Fox Spirit when a resounding, rusty noise clanged through the streets of the deadened Izumo town. Nekohiko's head snapped in that direction and the Fox Spirit followed his gaze as well.

Up through the colorless sky, the two figures flew. The hunted and the hunter in pursuit. They plummeted to the roofs of the buildings, shattering shingles and breaking rafter beams as their bodies smashed into them from a particularly potent strike. Every sound here reverberated a hundred-fold, so eerie and hollow this realm was. Only the Head Priest and the mysterious Bamboo-Hat ghoul-raiser were here.

And Nekohiko, watching them.

He didn't understand much of what the two did but after a few harsh exchanges and a blow that ended up with the ghoul-raiser hurtling through another building, the tranquility was once again restored.

The Spiritside quietened for a few beats. Then the Head Priest's footsteps began their slow walk toward where the woman had crashed onto. Her pulling herself up from the rubble of wood and metal was the second source of the sole noise in the entire Izumo town.

Nekohiko gulped small breaths, slinking toward where he heard the Head Priest was. Carefully, he peeked out to see him but hid back immediately when the man sensed him near.

"Don't be afraid. Come out," the Head Priest called him.

The Spirit Fox nudged Nekohiko out as well and so he did as told. But his hands and legs quaked and his head doddered on his neck from all the horrors and confusion he had experienced. When he stepped out from beyond the corner and saw the Head Priest fully before him -- such a tall, graceful, competent person, with that ugly slash of red running down one of his arms from where the thrown knife had struck him -- Nekohiko couldn't hold his emotions in any longer.

Saho! he wanted to cry out. Hachiro! Kusaki!

Oh, how he wanted to yell out those names and rush toward the people whom these names belonged to. Rush to them and hug them, and never let them go again.

But these people weren't here. The only person who was -- was the Head Priest. Nekohiko didn't feel comfortable running to him, or hugging him, or screaming out his name.

He didn't even know if the Head Priest had one, or if the man had always been called that. The Head Priest.

But the frustration and pain welled up too much for him to handle. He ran up to the Head Priest regardless of how uncomfortable it made him feel. He stopped short of hugging his waist and burying his face in the man's chest. He wanted to but he was too afraid to try.

"Your Holiness," he sobbed, eyes on the ground. "My guardians..."

A soft caress displaced Nekohiko's haphazard ponytail on his head. Nekohiko raised his gaze to seek out the Head Priest's. "That woman -- who is she?! Is she dead?"

The Head Priest was looking somewhere beyond the buildings as though he was able to see that far.

"No," he said. "She's already gone. She had a talisman on her that allows her to flicker back to the one who hired her. And a few other ones that protected those ghouls from being dragged into the Spiritside earlier. The Dark Sister has come very much prepared for me, hasn't she?"

The Dark Sister?

"Come," the Head Priest told him and waited till Nekohiko was ready to follow. "I'll lead you back to the Shrine, Nekohiko."

Afraid to so much as utter a word, Nekohiko went after him, only briefly aware that the enormous Spirit Fox strolled beside the two of them like a loyal dog.

"Your Holiness," Nekohiko mumbled, feeling too self-conscious to bother a person of such high duties with his pitiful issues. "I'm sorry you got hurt earlier. It's my fault. Will you go to the healer, please? I can help if you need me to--"

The Head Priest stopped for a second before resuming his pace. His sad smile directed at Nekohiko still had a lot of coolness beneath but Nekohiko suddenly realized that perhaps the Head Priest simply didn't know how else to smile at others. Had Nekohiko ever seen him interact with anyone other than Bound dummies or Spirit Foxes?

No. The Head Priest was lonely and withdrawn. He was respected by everyone, yet also disliked for how aloof he appeared. Wasn't that... a bit too familiar to someone like Nekohiko?

"Don't worry about it," the Head Priest said. "I already bound my wound back together and will take care of the rest later." His eyes swept over the ruined outlines of the buildings rising out into the paler but still gloomy skies of the Spiritside. "Once I and Ashflake drop you off at the Shrine..." And he patted the Fox Spirit's nose when it lowered its head to him "...we will have to go back into the town and fix everything I and that Dark Sister have ruined when we were battling."

Nekohiko stared, too dazed to comprehend.

"These buildings aren't ruined in the real world yet," the Head Priest sighed. "And won't be for quite some time. But as days go by, all the damage inflicted upon the world in the Spiritside will show its presence in reality. With mold, with rot, with fires, or with sudden blight and canker where it shouldn't be. Townspeople do not deserve that."

The walk from the greyscale market and through the cedar lane of Izumo's Shrine had gone by so fast, Nekohiko didn't have time to ask the Head Priest more. To ask, to beg, to cry, or to lament.

So much had happened. So much that his heart could hardly perceive it all. His mouth, too. He wanted to speak to the Head Priest but his lips were numb and sealed with apathy. Even tears didn't feel like coming.

The Head Priest stopped right before the ghostly counterpart of the Izumo Shrine gate. Once again, his fingers trailed phantomly over Nekohiko's hair -- too feeble for Nekohiko to truly feel them. Then he turned back to the town and his Spirit Fox named Ashflake went alongside him.

Nekohiko watched him leave. A painful throb choked him inside: another urge to scream out someone's name. Of someone he knew or cared for -- someone who knew and cared for him in return.

But all such people were dead. Dead, and gone. Forever.

"Suminoe," the Head Priest told him from afar.

Standing within the endlessly-stretching cedar tunnel, the Head Priest's figure cut a striking, mythical silhouette, the hems of his robes and his long hair caressed by the eldritch Spiritside breeze. Nekohiko waited, speechless.

The Head Priest smiled again, then repeated. "My name. You wanted to know. It's Suminoe."

The very next moment, the dark wind of the Spiritside swept Nekohiko off and left him standing in the middle of a bustling crowd at the Izumo Shrine.

Yet he felt so lost and lonely, his mouth could only repeat the name. The name he wanted to try calling again and again.

Queenfisher

Um... I know that, with the chapter title and the overall grand effect Suminoe has on Neko, it kinda appears as though this should be the official pairing... But! This is important for the plot. And the fact that it might seem a bit suggestive of something romantic (though I personally don't think it does) is going to come back in a very significant way later. Just wanted to clear this up in case this chapter might feel like it's introducing some tension where there is none ^^.

Ah, I'm busy coloring a picture and hope I'll release it before the next chapter tomorrow! Because it won't exactly fit with it since it's related to this chapter here...