Chapter Thirty-Two

Enamored with Fictions

The Nagare soldiers were most proficient with Binding Spirits that could fly and tapping into their powers. They could only do it in packs, though, and needed to create complex arrays to be able to float. Yes, float. The real flying was reserved only for the Nagare family itself, and only for the current Great Lord of Nagare.

Or, in this case, the Great Queen Kasuga.

Kasuga didn't wait for anyone. She had flown off with the speed of a shooting star after ordering her soldiers to guard her prisoners.

To lift all the passengers of the attacked Line the Nagare soldiers wasted quite a lot of time. Some of them remained on the ground to keep watch over the baggage and the dead bodies of the Line's Binders until law enforcers came to investigate the accident. Most were busy arranging the float formations around the sobbing and shaken passengers huddled together on the grass under the nightly sky.

But Nekohiko and Abi siblings had their own special group of Nagare soldiers.

These ones looked different from the others. Their uniforms were much more refined and distinguished. And it was in this group of soldiers who finished the floating formation early where Nekohiko met somebody he really wasn't in the mood to see.

A bony-looking old woman came to the formation once it was ready. Her insignia were those of a high-ranking Nagare officer. Her face...

"My name is Commander Etsuko," she told Kataji and Aomi, bowing curtly. "I will be taking care of you during your stay in Suzumegara castle."

Nekohiko flashed back to the moment of his death.

Back to that point when his five royal bodyguards turned a blind eye to his convulsing, dying moments. Etsuko. Etsuko was in that memory, too. The loyal Nagare guard, gifted to Nekohiko personally by Lord Kazuragi.

She had been much younger then, of course, which was strange. Only five years had passed. Why did Etsuko look as though about a twenty had gone by? Her skin seemed lined and parched, her eyes lacking shine, her hair limp and thin, gathered at the back of her head. Still as sharp-gazed as before and just as ceremonious. But somehow so vulnerable, now.

Kataji and Aomi spoke nothing to the soldiers or to each other throughout the whole time they were being guarded and lifted up to Suzumegara high in the clouds. They were clearly sulking at being detained against their will. To add to it, Kataji was in pain from both his legs being broken and many other smaller injuries peppering his body. He sat hunched over his bags and crates of Nekohiko logs and stared at the ground disappearing steadily below as the floating formation rose, highlighted phantomly by a shifting green, purple, and blue light of the Nagare Binding.

Aomi was stroking Nekohiko's cat form stretched over her lap as she glowered in the direction of Etsuko. Her derision for the woman's showy, feathery outfit was very eloquent in her eyes but she was pissed enough to not want to share that out loud.

Nekohiko's fur twitched, displeased.

First Daichi, now Etsuko?

Would Arata, Hibiki, and Chinatsu¹He means the other three bodyguards that betrayed him, just in case it's unclear who all these people are. They're not important now -- and are only mentioned here for the atmosphere since he does know their names, so there is no reason for him not to think of them. wait for him around the nearest corner, too? Spirits, he had no strength left to bother with these people, let alone be able to if his cat form was murder-proof!

Heck, even Daichi alone had given him so much trouble...

And Etsuko was some kind of a general who was always flanked by at least half a dozen people? Yeah, no thank you. He would stay as far as possible from her.

Suzumegara hulked above the clouds. The closer they came to it, the more earth-shattering the effect of the Hawkmoth Spirit was. Not only was it massive in scale and plated with sheets of gleaming black quartz along its clumsy-looking body -- its stilled wings were ten times as large, darkening into the shimmering hues of the night the farther they reached from the main body. Rarely, branches of electric charge spasmed across those magnificent wings, lightening them up to a startling tint of blue.

The ground now was specked in patches amidst the puffy clouds, and the temperature of the surrounding air was too cold to stay outside of the Binder formations. But Suzumegara had to be so high above the land -- otherwise it would throw too huge a shadow and freak out most people by its alien-like presence.

And it seemed alien. As they rose past its head and the moth antennae that surged with electric currents, Nekohiko took note of Suzumegara's multifaceted eyes. Each was the size of a meteor crater, dark and unreflective. It was impossible to tell if it was looking at him back but he felt it.

Suzumegara was watching him. Its numb, eldritch gaze made him shudder and turn aside. This thing knew who he was. Thank heavens Spirits could only really speak to the Emperor or to the Izumo Head Priest, and even then -- only a few of them. If Kasuga asked it, no doubt Suzumegara would spill everything to the girl.

"Welcome to the City of Light," Etsuko rasped, stepping aside to let Kataji and Aomi see.

They had arrived. The glowing floating formation came to a halt in the air at the edge of a glass-cut balcony. The balcony led to the rest of the city on top of Suzumegara. Beyond its edge -- nothing but the rising winds and a deathly fall. On the other side, though...

The Nagare city spread in the dark sky, drowning the light of the distant stars with its own pulsing glow. All along the streets and the buildings made of polished black quartz, ran streams of electric magic, sparking blinding blue and violet by turns. The jutting, monolithic architecture only highlighted the wondrous nature of the city: buildings were made in smooth black so that the light bounced off them and repeated to infinity.

To a stranger, Nagare city and its charged atmosphere might seem like a nightmare. But for the Binders who practiced Nagare technique, it was naturally beneficial, even healing. Even mortals who weren't Spirit-sensitive could get used to the electricity being so common here. Why?

Nekohiko had visited the Nagare capital a couple of times in his previous life, so he knew the reason well enough. So much light gave all of Nagare's productions a boost. Military research, metal-working, trade, medicine, scholarship -- everything blossomed in a city that never slept.

If Kataji could take a more staggered expression, his eyes would pop out. He tried to maintain his usual poise but failed. His eyes couldn't help but flit around, taking in the sights, absorbing the myriads of ways Nagare mechanisms worked.

Aomi, on the contrary, looked bored and apathetic.

"Yeah, whatever." She yawned. "Where will I sleep and what will I eat?" she asked Etsuko in a majestic tone. "In a fancy-looking prison cell or--"

"Of course her Majesty Kasuga has prepared the most luxurious quarters in Nagare Castle for such honored guests," Etsuko answered, impassive. She had already stepped off the formation and now only waited for her "prisoners" to do the same.

With hundreds of flights of emptiness behind them -- did they have any choice?

Etsuko personally pushed Kataji in a wheelchair as she led the Aomi down the familiar streets toward the magnificent outline of the spiky Nagare castle in the distance. Nekohiko sat in Aomi's arms while keeping an eye for his other body parts that Kataji and the soldiers carried. Kataji had thrown quite a fit when they suggested the logs would be put away in storage for the time being, so nobody dared to separate him from his logs now.

Up close, the city was all columns and arches and floating pavilions amidst the discreet houses. Metallic buildings and vehicles flowed and broke apart within magnetic fields Nagare Binding maintained. Most Nagare dummies weren't wood like on the ground, but magnetized metal. They didn't look human either -- most resembling schools of fish when their tiny metallic particles broke apart to move through the city on their chores -- carrying messages, items, working menial tasks. This and the lightning currents made the Nagare city seem twitchy, in constant motion, never-stopping.

People they met in the city and saw peeking from the windows were very respectful toward Etsuko and the guards. But other than that -- uninterested and up in their own minds as they went with their business drinking, dining, and talking to one another. The electric brightness on some of the entertainment buildings assumed human forms as though in a performance.

"Come and enjoy our theater's dancers!" one lightning-message read over the grand building's facade with figures of pretty women twirling around the words.

"Best plum wine on the west coast!" said the other building, from which rowdy music and laughter came in waves.

"Card game salon," a particularly gaudy building screamed in flashing colors. "Gambler's Paradise!"

Aomi did crane her neck to peer at that one for the whole time it took them to move past it.

"No tour of the city?" she grumbled to Etsuko. "Only of our fancy cell, then? Great. Just great."

Now that his eyes had gotten used to the luminescence of the city, Nekohiko discerned the faint speckles of rainbows against the black sky: Nagare Binders were always gathering water for the city wells and fountains from the clouds. The rainbow hues were a very common sight in Nagare city but, prior to this, he had mostly seen it during daylight. Memories flooded him, and he dropped his gaze, saddened.

Aomi was tense like a taut string all the way up the glassy castle steps and into its mazelike halls made of black quartz. All along the walls, pipes of polished fulgurite²Natural tubes that form when lightning strikes silica or other materials like quartz. ran, giving the castle corridors a strange echo. The winds prowled through these pipes with an eerie, whistling noise that sent shivers down Nekohiko's scalp. He felt watched.

He felt as though the winds of Nagare castle were touching him, listening to him, trying to steal his thoughts.

The sensation only added to the somber echo of the soldiers' footsteps as they marched down the electric-lit corridors towards the quarters Kasuga had prepared for Abi siblings.

Etsuko told them that Kasuga wouldn't want to disturb them so late at night when they were tired and hungry. The welcoming dinner could wait till tomorrow evening, after both of His Majesty's little siblings had time to eat, clean themselves, and rest.

They were allowed to get out of these rooms and walk around the west wing of the castle, which, according to Etsuko, was the most pleasing place for any guests of Nagare. The west wing had the game room where Nagare family members and courtiers gathered, it had the lounging rooms, the hot springs, the library, even the small aviary for bird watching.

Most of it missed Nekohiko's ears. But the library got his attention.

The Nagare city library wasn't the best, but it was definitely better than whatever was in the Red Stone Estate. If there was something about his death records he could find here...

"A Binder will come shortly to help young Master with his leg injury. If there is anything else you need, our loyal guards will take care of it," Etsuko finished, bowing to Kataji and Aomi while cupping her hands.

"I have a complaint," Aomi piped up, arm raised. "This place is ugly. Everything is hard and sharp-edged, and these stupid lightnings everywhere make my eyes bleed."

Indeed, even the interior of the rooms had the same vaguely militaristic design as the rest of the castle -- severe, yet sleek. One felt intimidated to even be in such a place.

"Makes it seem like I'm in a torture chamber," Aomi ended. "Usually I wouldn't mind, but with our current situation here... I feel it would be too close to reality to amuse me."

"Too close to reality?"

"We're hostages, right? You people will use us as leverage against Eldest Brother for your dumb war."

Instead of answering, Etsuko made her way to the exit.

"Hey, that's just rude!" Aomi stomped her foot on the glassy floor. "Don't we have rights? How are you better than Ezo bandits, if so!"

Classic Etsuko -- walking off when she couldn't handle someone's crap anymore. Nekohiko observed from the bed, already surrendering any idea of how hard would it be to separate this traitorous woman from her underlings and--

And what?

Unleash torture on her? Pry her stubborn jaws open and force the truth to come out? He'd been through this with Daichi already, and Daichi had told him nothing. Nothing Nekohiko could use or even comprehend because Daichi's brain was so thoroughly delusional, only believing lies and fictions someone else had fed him. So, what if Etsuko was of the same mindset about Nekohiko's murder? What if she also preferred a made-up story to justify his death instead of truth? Even if he caught hold of her, as stubborn as the woman was, she wouldn't spill the information however much he forced her.

Ugh, these people were so damn headstrong, thinking themselves in the right for allowing his assassination. It didn't make any sense to him.

And yes, he knew well the saying "if everyone dislikes you, the problem might not be with them. The problem might be with you"! But he would beg to differ. It was one thing to dislike someone and a completely another to kill them. He hadn't done anything worthy of such a drastic punishment. Seriously, he hadn't killed anyone, hadn't imprisoned anyone, hadn't preferred one person to another to evoke such bitter feelings toward himself...

All he'd done before his death was try to unite them. Try to stop the Great Lords from quarreling and pulling his Empire apart with their petty squabbles. Instead of killing, he had resurrected people from the dead, too! How had any of these actions caused Abihiko and the Great Lords to turn on him?!

He needed to understand!

Aomi was going on with her rant at the silent guards who refused to let her out of the doors until she rested. On contrast, Kataji was quiet, even drowsy. He was sorting through the log parts he had laid on the bed, checking to see if any were harmed. Not even his broken legs or his bloodied fingers -- he was only obsessed with those log parts of Nekohiko, still! Another headstrong fool, ah. So serene and collected now. Hard to believe he had cursed at the bandits like a drunkard and attacked them head-on an hour ago.

A flash of anger rose in Nekohiko. "Thanks for endangering all of us tonight."

"Mmm?"

"You. Only caring about these. But not about your sister, and not about yourself, apparently. Not even about me, in the end."

Kataji remained unengaged. "My sister can run and fend for herself, so can I. And so can you." His eyes flitted to Nekohiko's twisted front paw and clearly-bent spine. "Usually, at least. I'll fix your spine tomorrow, don't worry."

"I do not care about my spine!" Nekohiko snapped. "Or about the log! The log will be fine without you obsessing over it every second."

Marginally, Kataji's face grew colder. "It's not a log. It's your body. A human body. The only one that will matter."

"Yes, so I don't get how my body is any of your business," Nekohiko retorted. "It's mine, after all. No?"

By this point, he'd seen Kataji go through the blocks that were still largely shapeless and those that had already gained form resembling human body parts. Arms, thighs, neck, a pile of finger phalanges, and teeth. What he didn't like was how involved and thoughtful Kataji seemed when he was handling what would one day be Nekohiko's face.

Ohhh, Nekohiko really didn't like it. He would prefer it if Kataji treated it as a prestigious souvenir, or a throwaway toy, or even a potential object of lust. Really, Nekohiko didn't care much about any of these. If he were made to be a human doll, he didn't doubt one bit that some people would be drawn to him with quite low desires in mind.

Yet Kataji gazed upon the misshapen wooden face with a kind of a... dreamy gentleness. And that scared Nekohiko. A lot.

In fact...

Why was Kataji so lenient toward him? Even with the suspicions of murder looming over them, the most Kataji had done was murder-proof him. He had tortured him with tools and saws, yes. But never as though to punish him. Only as though he was crafting him. To make something better out of him. Something beautiful.

Hadn't Kataji told him this already?

If I can give another human a perfect body and a perfect life -- why wouldn't I?

But then again -- if one had made a perfect human, would its maker ever bear to let his creation go afterward?

Nekohiko hated one specific troubling conclusion that came to him. He hated it with passion.

"Do not fall in love with this doll," he said much harsher than he should.

Kataji slowly glared. "What?"

"I'm only warning you to be careful and not have a crush on it."

"On... it?"

Argh, this was so terrible!

"The form of the doll is separate from who I am, so yes. On it. I did have a rather appealing face, didn't I? Ah, the hearts it had broken, you wouldn't believe. Run before it's too late or you'll be in the danger zone first, ha-ha!" he attempted to make a joke but as always, his timing wasn't very good. Nor his tone. Nor his fake chuckle accompanying it. "I really wouldn't want to hurt your feelings later, young man."

"Yes, but I don't get how my feelings are any of your business, Itsuki?"

Wait.

Was he quoting Nekohiko right back at him? The brat.

All right! The stupid joke route hadn't worked. And never did, for some reason, whenever he had tried to eel his way out of a tight situation with his attempts at human humor.

But something else might.

"People who create entities out of nothing tend to become enamored with them," Nekohiko began carefully. "With their ideas, their fictions. Sculptors fall in love with their statues, painters with their portraits, writers with their characters. Kataji, it isn't unheard of, to enjoy your own fiction. Except that in your case, it's not the same. You aren't dealing with fiction. I am a real person. What I want to remind you of -- is to separate what you create in your head -- from reality." He felt uncomfortable, especially since Aomi had stopped yelling some time ago and, in the profound silence, it sure looked like she was eavesdropping on them here. "Though the body you will sculpt will be yours to shape and even give Master Orders to, my self and my choices will not be shaped by you. Or by anyone. Ever."

Kataji choked, coughing. "Wait, what? Master Orders? I would never give your human doll a Master Order," he laughed himself, in shock.

But his laughter also sounded quite fake to Nekohiko's ears.

"But what would stop you?" Nekohiko asked. "You give Master Orders to my cat body. How is a human body different? The person inside these bodies is still... just me."

Slowly, Kataji's jaw flexed under his skin. "Do you want me to remove that Master Order?"

"...would you?"

...

A sudden smile cracked Kataji's lips. It didn't look nice. It looked desperate. "Sure. Ask me, and I will, Itsuki. Ask me -- Kataji, please remove the murder-proofing Master Order from me." He nodded to himself, visibly frustrated as he kept going through the log parts he sorted. "Because having the freedom to kill is obviously a right every human should possess, no? Without thinking, or without consequence. Without punishment? Mn-hm."

Nekohiko watched Aomi as she tiptoed out of the main room to her bedroom, clearly too uncomfortable with his and Kataji!s conversation.

"Come on. Ask me," Kataji said rougher. "If you really believe you've earned that right."

His eyes flicked back to Kataji.

"Kataji, I ask you..." he hesitated, "to not fall in love with me. You don't need to protect me by sacrificing your life or your principles either. I would never want you to."

Kataji almost smiled, so distressed he appeared. "Fall in love? Sacrificing my principles? Wait... I really don't understand what you're saying, so... whatever."

"I only--"

"This conversation is over." Kataji didn't even look at him, gathering all the log parts onto his lap awkwardly. "And besides, the healer is already here."

Kataji quickly swept all the blocks into the boxes when the Binder came to fuse his broken bones back together. With a relieved sigh, Nekohiko went away as well.

Not only literally -- onto the roomy cushion lying on the floor -- he also went away figuratively. He had diligently avoided thinking about Abihiko for the last hour but he couldn't any longer now that he had nothing better to do and with all the memories flushing at him from the familiar sights of Nagare city taverns, from his awkward conversation with Kataji, from seeing Etsuko again...

But most of all, because Abihiko was near him. Right against him; Nekohiko felt it.

***

He was holding Nekohiko's seashell body between his index finger and thumb, gently rubbing it as he strolled through his rooms. Lights sparked to life where he entered and snuffed out behind him. An opulent, even decadent environment in which he seemed to live completely alone. Apart from the occasional Bound Servant or moving furniture that strove to appease their master at every turn, the rooms of Abihiko's quarters were empty. Even the wing where all the Emperors' concubines and lovers were supposed to live stood dark and hollow in unsettling silence.

Abihiko stopped.

It was his bedroom, Nekohiko recognized. Instead of changing his outer clothes for the sleeping garments or stripping to take a bath before sleep, Abihiko strode over to the canopied bed raised on a dais over the floor. He slowly slid down beside it. Nekohiko first saw his knees bent high against his chest, then his face.

His hair was let loose, his make up to liven up the dark circles under his eyes and the powder to make his lips less distracting was gone, too. Nekohiko hated that the first emotion he felt when seeing him like this was a warm one. As though nothing bad had ever happened and they were still together, sharing rooms and lives in their last years in Izumo and outside of it.

But the second emotion was much more powerful and much harder to push through. Bitterness. Hurt.

Resentment.

Look at him, look at him so carefree and... happy? What the hell was he so happy about? Hadn't he heard from Okinaga about Daichi's murder yet?

Oh, wait till you find out your siblings are taken hostage by the Nagare Queen! Nekohiko added vengefully in his thoughts.

But for now, Abihiko was tranquil. Peaceful.

He was smiling to something beyond Nekohiko's sight. But it was unlikely to be a real thing, Nekohiko decided as he watched his eyes wander restlessly though his smile never did. He was only in a reverie, twisting and fondling with his fingers the small beads and tassels attached to Nekohiko's seashell body.

The smile had a tint of sadness and wistfulness to it. It suddenly grew wider. Abihiko's eyes dropped to Nekohiko's, almost meeting his invisible gaze.

For a second, Nekohiko thought his heart would stutter.

Could he... see him inside the seashell?

Could he--?

"Neko," he murmured to himself. A small bell hanging off the seashell chimed. Nekohiko's thoughts were in turmoil because he had no idea to whom or what this "Neko" referred to. Or why, because whatever the reason, this was creepy as hell.

This person had murdered him in cold blood. How dare he constantly evoke his name like no big deal?

And smile as he did?!

Abihiko used a simple Binding technique to separate the seashell from the rest of the charm pendant on the chain. He treated the seashell like a lifeless thing, though, so Nekohiko had no doubt he didn't actually know he was here. But then, he lifted the seashell to his lips and nose again.

As though wishing to breathe in all of the Emerald Fir aroma Nekohiko knew the wooden seashell possessed. Abihiko inhaled the scent.

"Aren't you sweet, coming back to me when I didn't even expect you to?" He held the seashell in front of his eyes appraisingly. He hummed a soundless laugh, more deranged than humorous. "Now I'll have you with me at all times, I suppose. Haven't I promised you I would? I even kept that promise... somewhat, at least."

He still wasn't looking at the seashell straight, talking as if to a real person somewhere beside him. With his free hand, he reached into his robes to fish out the black string that wound around his neck.

Nekohiko had glimpsed it before -- when Abihiko had been in the pool. Yet back then, Abihiko's wet hair had hidden the pendant that was suspended on it.

And that pendant turned out to be a...

Wait, what?!

"Kitten's Paw," Abihiko said, still smiling unnervingly. He unbound the cord off his neck and brought the real seashell in the form of a Kitten's Paw to Nekohiko's fake wooden version. When both of them sat so close to each other, there was no mistaking that one was a mere copy of the other. The size, the general pattern, the colors. Nekohiko had been trying to replicate this very seashell in the first place -- but he had no idea the original was around Abihiko's neck all this time!

How? Why?!

It was Nekohiko's!

Nekohiko had worn it years ago. And when Abihiko had slit his throat with his knife... that Kitten's Paw seashell sat right where all the blood pouring out of Nekohiko's throat had dyed it red. The worst thing was -- so close up to this seashell, Nekohiko could clearly see the spatters and smears of his own blood staining it even after all these years.

Holy Demonic Spirits.

He was already horrified by the idea that Abihiko had taken it off his corpse and put on himself. But to leave the blood on it... blood that couldn't be washed away by water! There was only one explanation for how that worked, and it was Binding.

Abihiko, the freak, had Bound the spatters of Nekohiko's blood onto the seashell, to imprint it there for all eternity! Like some kind of his personal imprint.

Nekohiko reeled, his mind a blank.

Even serial murderers weren't this demented... he thought helplessly.

But of course Abihiko didn't hear him. He put both Kitten's Paw seashells together -- the real one and the wooden one -- and looped them back onto the cord on his neck. His fingers lingered against them.

Nekohiko told himself it didn't matter.

Not the creepy factor, not the shamelessness of such a position -- hanging off his murderer's neck. Because Nekohiko was no longer a mere charm on Abihiko's clothes but a pendant rubbing right against his skin for... however long it would take him to get his other bodies here. But it was all right! Now, he would be next to Abihiko all the time.

He would be able to spy on him! He would be able to see and hear everything Abihiko saw and heard. What's not to be happy about?

The touch of his skin was hot, almost feverish to Nekohiko's panicked body. His ears now were so close to Abihiko's pulse, it was a rumble in his head. A rapid, uneven, familiar heartbeat.

Gods, it hurt to hear it. 

It drowned all the other sounds so much, Nekohiko almost missed the whisper that came a few long minutes later.

"I fulfilled all my promises to you," Abihiko said to nobody in the room. "What about yours? Do you even remember them? How long do I have to wait?"

No answer came. Even if Nekohiko wanted, he couldn't reply because the seashell didn't have a mouth drawn on it.

But Abihiko didn't expect an answer anyway.

Queenfisher

Sorry this chapter came out later than usual! I was trying to let the readers rest a bit because I've just released a three-part chapter on three consecutive days and I was afraid it's too exhausting to keep track of all of them! I am still unsure how to manage the release of flashbacks that consist of several parts because I don't want to pause down the present arc too much (if I release flashback chapters on usual schedule, it will end up pausing the present for a whole week! And I don't want that). But I also don't know if too many chapters released at once isn't tiring...

I am entering a good pace now with 5-7 present chapters vs 1 three-parted flashback, so I think this problem won't arise for a long while, but just in case -- you can write in comment or PM your suggestions on how to handle Flashbacks compared to present day chapters in case Flashbacks are too tiring when mass-released^^. If not -- then I'll keep doing exactly what I'm doing now.