Chapter Fifty-Five

The Den of Sin

 

"Which color would you want for your doll?"

The shopkeeper of the clothes store on the Green Silk Street spoke mainly to Kataji even when he was taking measurements of Nekohiko's shoulders and waist.

The shop was spacious and airy, with the curtains of fabric made of flower petals shimmering in the fragrant breeze Bound to prowl the store to please the customers. A small gaggle of young women sat in the lounging area as they browsed the human dummies that walked around, modeling the store's clothes. Sometimes, these women exploded in silly giggling, distracting Nekohiko and making Mikawa flush in his own lounging section.

The boy really wasn't prepared for so much noise and capital gossip these women shared, and Nekohiko felt gravely concerned. His protective instincts surged up each time he caught the women's dismissive stares toward Mikawa and his militaristic outfit, so out of place next to Nara's decadent fashions.

"The doll is very sallow in its undertone, so I would not recommend pastels. They would make it look even sicklier." The owner pushed Nekohiko to turn around.

Not only was Nekohiko stripped down to his pants, exposing his dummy body parts, but he was manhandled in such a rude manner, too.

Ah, it was true; he had never paid attention: people didn't see dummies as beings worthy of regard. They treated them no better than furniture.

"Could you not push him like this?" Kataji snapped at the man. "And don't call him 'it'."

"Of course, of course!" The owner nodded rapidly, his papery skin flushing in patches. "Forgive me, young master! I thought it was just a Bound servant, not a... 'friend' of yours. Forgive me again."

A friend of yours.

Agh.

One of the trends most everyone was aware of in Nara. That some of the young people had become so enamored and attached to their dolls, whether sex-related or just general lifestyle dolls -- that they refused to hang out with real people, began dating their dolls, calling them by real human names and demanding others to play this pretend game with them as well. There were even some movements for giving sex dolls statuses and privileges of real people.

And of course, there were many clubs and festivals devoted to people and their dolls interacting with each other and enjoying life together. Oh well, the majority of people living outside of Nara perceived the capital as some kind of a freakshow for a reason.

It seemed the owner took Kataji and Nekohiko for the same kind of "couple". And, frustrated with the man's previous mistreatment of Nekohiko, Kataji didn't deny it.

"I'm not angry," he told the owner. "But don't disrespect my doll again."

Kataji had already had his measurements taken for adjusting the fine set of robes he would wear to his brother's reception at the Palace tomorrow night. A beautiful, subdued shade of periwinkle blue, one that highlighted Kataji's dark hair with its reddish gleam and his eyes and red lips. Now he was busy picking the accessories that the shop assistant was showing him, but the shop owner was distracting him with his questions.

Yes, Nekohiko didn't want to deal with people so soon after becoming human, so he and Kataji had agreed that he would play a role of a mute and thoughtless dummy doll, and nothing else. But, to be honest, this was starting to annoy Nekohiko a bit. The owner had twirled him several times by now, had ordered him to bend over once, to spread his arms and legs, to twist his torso in different directions so that he could define how flexible this doll was and which outfit would cover up his artificiality best.

It was so tiring,

"What color? Hmmm..." Kataji pondered, distraught.

"Like I said, the doll would benefit from something dark. Gemstone colors would fit it... him -- best, I believe."

Kataji dithered. "Would gemstone color make an impression that he is a... young woman, though?"

The silence descended quickly and thoroughly on the small measurement-taking section. The shop owner gave Nekohiko's obvious male-inspired features a look.

"Forgive me, young master, so is the doll a 'he' or a 'she' -- I might have misheard you the first time," the owner tried.

Kataji only grew more annoyed. "It's a 'he', of course. But... for the thing we're going to, he'll dress as a 'she'. Forgive me for being incoherent."

"No, no! My fault for misunderstanding!" The owner bowed to Kataji and the two of them began the usual customer-shopkeeper dance of politeness.

Nekohiko had no time for this. They would probably go into hours of discussing the dress shape and color and fabric now, and he didn't want to spend his first day as a human on something so pathetic.

"Gold."

Usually, he had zero preferences about anything, but if he was coming to Abihiko's reception disguised as a young woman, he could pick no better color than gold for his dress. It was a "disguised girl" dress color Abihiko had to be very, very familiar with.

"Is your doll Bound to have a color preference?" the owner asked. "It's very peculiar. I have never seen a doll that has... preferences."

Kataji straightened from the array of hairpins he had been browsing. "I... guess. Yes. It was Bound to be like that. Why?"

"Ah. I just wondered if Master Hibiki had made another release of his famous doll aspects to the public at large." He sighed with wistfulness. "You know how those dolls are. Some say they cannot be distinguished from a real person... But of course his discoveries and techniques are only for the Hisome King to use. We only get scraps if Master Hibiki fancies sharing one of his lesser techniques, ah..."

Nekohiko listened, wary.

Hibiki was still going strong with his doll talent, huh. During Nekohiko's lifetime, the young boy had been taken into the Hisome Family and taught Binding personally by Morokata. The boy was very good, of course. But he was even better at what his heart had always desired -- manipulating finer and subtler aspects of a human body and of the human soul.

He had indeed invented the first dolls that could exhibit preferences and opinions and even desires of their own. But those were rare: handcrafted by him and sponsored with the most refined materials by Morokata's gold coffers.

And because those dolls were so rare and yet so perfect, soon what Hibiki was making had become a business empire of his own. All the rich and powerful people wanted a doll made by him.

Nekohiko had heard about this only marginally. He wasn't very interested in Hibiki's doll business or Morokata's aiding in Hibiki's research in that area. In fact, even the thought of Hibiki's obsession with dolls made Nekohiko extremely uncomfortable seeing as he was one of the dolls now.

A couple of times, Kataji had mentioned going to Hibiki's Binding shop in Nara when they were only making plans about the dummy back in the Red Stone Estate. But Nekohiko had shut Kataji's suggestion down immediately.

First of all, Hibiki's services could bankrupt even the richest people. And second of all -- no.

Why would Nekohiko willingly go to that creepy youth while being a doll himself?! Just being next to Hibiki when he had been Nekohiko's bodyguard was enough to get the full scope of how possessive and deranged his attitude was to anything that resembled an artificial human.

The dress shop's only value for today was in the nice, fresh set of daily robes Kataji bought for Nekohiko so that Nekohiko didn't have to wear Kataji's hand-me-downs, especially because of their height difference which made all of Kataji's clothes too long for Nekohiko's body.

Slightly less cranky about it once he put on the robes that fit, Nekohiko still couldn't let Kataji off the hook so easily.

"Say, Kataji," he began, leaning more on Mikawa than on Kataji as they hobbled down the street, peering at the store windows they passed. "Did you have some trouble with calculating my height? Or did you run out of materials when you were making my legs?"

"Mmm?"

Kataji was all innocence.

"I think I should have been a bit taller than this."

A cute smile spread on Kataji's lips. "Oh. You want to be taller? I didn't know you were so vulnerable about your height."

Vulnerable?

What stupidity was this?

"Besides, you say you are sixteen. I am seventeen, so it's normal that I'm a bit taller than you are."

Yes, but this is not about our age or-- What was even going on?!

"I haven't actually died, remember. So that makes me your senior, Kataji. Hey, I would be senior to your Eldest Brother. I am twenty-one by now!"

"Tsk, ah, sorry, senior. I had no idea," Kataji said. "If you really feel wounded by being shorter than me, I can fix that--"

"I do not feel wounded."

Nekohiko stopped to give Kataji a look.

Why was Kataji smiling so widely? Why were the tips of his ears so pink, they nearly seemed translucent in the bright afternoon sun?

Then, as Kataji's gaze dipped from Nekohiko's eyes toward his mouth, a suspicion crept into Nekohiko's heart.

Was Kataji... flirting? Even worse -- was Nekohiko flirting with Kataji back? He didn't intend to! It was already a bit awkward that he was Kataji's date to the Palace, but to exchange playful banter in the middle of the street? With so many people around?

Ah, please no!

Frightened, Nekohiko backed away and into an even more panicked Mikawa.

"Food!" Nekohiko cried out. "Let's go get some food! I'm so hungry."

Kataji gave Nekohiko's torso a worried look. "You are? I do not remember that Binder giving you a stomach for you to feel hunger..."

"I meant Mikawa. Mikawa is hungry."

"I am?"

"I heard his stomach growling, and besides, weren't we going out to the restaurant your Aunt recommended? Which one was it? And how far?" Nekohiko rubbed his hands busily, scanning the crowded street for a carrier vehicle to call over.

"The Three Foxes," Kataji said. He stepped in front of Nekohiko and caught his shoulders in both his hands to steady him. His face seemed tight as though he held himself off from a wince. "Itsuki, please don't worry so much. I was only teasing. I won't anymore if it makes you uncomfortable." Before Nekohiko could respond, Kataji dropped his hands off him and motioned him and Mikawa forward. "It's not far from here. We can walk."

Nekohiko knew about The Three Foxes. It was indeed one of the most famous and respectable music restaurants in Nara and was only a few alleys away -- on the Opera Street. Kataji speared the way, consulting a scrap of paper with the directions in his hands. He did not infringe on Nekohiko again, allowing Mikawa to lead Nekohiko alone.

Nekohiko appreciated that. Yet at the same time, this became even more awkward somehow because Kataji being so nice and respectful toward him made him feel like he was indebted to Kataji now.

And he owed to Kataji so much already... How many bodies had Kataji given him? How many hours of his time, how many broken bones to protect him, how many sleepless nights and nerves wracked by giving Nekohiko alibis from investigations and persecutions? And now -- taking him to Abihiko's Palace... the sole goal of which was for Nekohiko to betray Kataji's trust and kill his Eldest Brother in vengeance?

No way in hell would Nekohiko be able to repay all these debts to Kataji. The feeling was heavy. Suffocating.

Only seeing Mikawa's shy joy at craning his neck to check out the sights and the colorfully-dressed Nara citizens uplifted his downcast mood. Mikawa clearly wanted to stop and smell the exotic flowers in a corner shop, or to take a closer look at the luminous koi display in the Binding game store, or chance a bite of some delicious candy in the brightly-lit rotating stand in the middle of the street.

And the city gossip and conversations around! Though most of them were drowned out by a political activist young man who stood on the street corner, giving out paper notes and yelling about starting a non-Binders' revolution against the oppression of Binders.

Such an annoying voice, that person had.

Iridescent bubbles and rose-petals snowed down the street, Bound into an endless loop of vanishing when it touched the ground and reemerging high overhead. Kataji slapped all the petals aside as he walked, but Mikawa caught them in his hand to marvel at the cool, velvety sensation. Several strands of music came from different gambling salons, and once, a pile of someone's clothes flew from the second-story window along with swear words and exclamations from an arguing couple.

A typical day in Nara. At least no prostitutes clung to Mikawa and Kataji yet. But it was still early. By the end of the day, both young men were bound to receive around three harassments from badly-behaved women. Each.

"I am not intruding, am I?" Mikawa whispered at Nekohiko when they were entering The Three Foxes through its gilded and mirrored hallway.

"You? Nonsense."

"Yes, but Master Kataji seems... depressed when I am around. And you... seem to be using me to not talk to him about it..."

What a perceptive young man.

"Forgive me, Mikawa. It's inappropriate for me to use your presence like this," Nekohiko said. He genuinely felt bad but at the same time... "I did promise your sister to take care of you, so please don't think that all I'm doing is use you for my gain."

"I don't mind. But could you please just talk to Kataji about your issues once and for all?" The boy blushed severely, stunned by his own boldness. "I mean... don't take it the wrong way..."

"I agree. Say no more."

For some reason, Mikawa's blunt reproach filled Nekohiko with fatherly pride. He let the boy take him up the elaborate stairs to the third story of the restaurant after Kataji and the restaurant's greeter. The opulence and the glamour made his wooden eyes water, but even more so the intoxicating aromas -- both the food-related and the curling smoke that filled the establishment. What a dizzying place. He felt mellow and relaxed just walking to the table in the secluded niche walled by screens made of translucent Bound spiderwebs. Wild roses bloomed across these screens, giving the table in the niche a garden-like feel.

Kataji and Mikawa sat by the balcony railing, in full view of the stage in the center of the first story. Two women sang celestially to the accompaniment of strings and flutes, and a Bound swarm of gemstone butterflies swirled around them in a dance performance.

Mikawa couldn't take his eyes off the stage even when the waiters brought menus and pre-meal snacks.

Nekohiko used the moment while Mikawa was so happily distracted and leaned over to Kataji, lifting the menu so that Mikawa didn't need to see the cringe that would follow.

And there would be a lot of "cringe". Nekohiko hated rejecting people, especially when they hadn't officially made their moves on him yet. But it had to be done before he hurt anyone.

"Kataji..." he began.

But Kataji disrupted his resolve by fishing out a small paper out of his sleeve. "I found a Binder who might be willing to fix the blood bond between you and me as your master."

Grrr, do not remind me.

As was typical of dummy making, the Binder had to ask the doll's owner to give them blood to Bind it into the dummy. The bigger and more potentially dangerous the dummy, the more bureaucratic and necessary such formalities became. A person buying a humanoid dummy was legally forced to make a blood bond with their dummy in order to make him responsible for any crime this dummy might commit.

Nekohiko preferred not to think about it, but yep: this human dummy body had been Bound with Kataji's blood in it. Just like the cat had been.

It was an ugly arrangement, but oh well. Some things had to be done.

"After the Binder made you and you blacked out, I asked him if I can undo the master bond between you and me," Kataji continued, eyes thoughtful on the stage. "And he gave me this address and the person who can do it. A fully-trained Splitter. Of course her services are costly, but it can be done."

"Kataji, you don't have to do this. I don't care if you are my master by blood," Nekohiko murmured into the menu.

Kataji shook his head, still pressing the paper into Nekohiko's fingers. "Itsuki, it's not even a question." His hand lingered around Nekohiko's. "I am not your maker, and not your master. I don't want to be any of those things to you. I don't even want to be someone you feel indebted to, or your patron, or your ally or supporter in whatever you want to do with your life now that you're human."

Nekohiko glanced up, baffled.

"It's your life," Kataji sighed. "Do whatever you want with it. I made you exactly for that: to live and to be happy, whatever makes you happy, Itsuki. And if, on an off-chance, you want to, then you can also be my friend. But only if you want to."

"I want to," Nekohiko hurried.

"Thank you. I'm happy to hear that," Kataji said, still not taking his gaze off the stage. His tone sounded avoidant. Disbelieving. He nodded at Nekohiko, then finally started reading the menu as though the conversation was over.

"Kataji, I truly want to be friends with you. But that's the only thing I'll ever want to be," Nekohiko said.

"I... see."

"Not only with you. But with everyone. I have never wanted anything but friendship from other people," Nekohiko went on. Honesty was hard to muster when it could hurt others, but it was better than the alternative. "I don't think I even have the capacity to want intimacy or romance in my life. Just not how my mind, or my body, or my heart work."

He was having a distinct sensation of a repeated dream. Or a relived memory.

These same exact words  he'd once said... to Abihiko.

Kataji visibly gulped, putting the menu away. He looked lost. "Oh."

"So if friendship is what you want from me, then... I am your friend already." Nekohiko tried to smile with all tenderness in his heart. "Is that not enough?"

Suddenly, Kataji laughed at his folded hands. "Actually, I feel I relate to that."

"You do?"

"Mn." He flicked his gaze at the stage and the pretty singers in the middle. "You remember when you asked me if I liked women or men back in Red Stone? And I didn't answer, but that's not because I'm ashamed of my preferences. To be honest... I don't think I have any. Yet, at least." He finally looked at Nekohiko again, and in his face, there was so much relief and mirth. "In general, I find people kind of... ugly and unpleasant, so I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be attracted to them. Ha-ha."

Well.

All right.

That took a bizarre turn. But not an unwelcome one! Though it made sense. Kataji was only seventeen. No wonder he knew very little about what he wanted or why.

"See?" Nekohiko spread his hands. "Great. Ah, our dinner arrived."

It had arrived some time ago, but Nekohiko and Kataji hadn't noticed. Neither had they noticed Mikawa's decidedly flabbergasted face while he had been forced to listen to them talk. Belatedly realizing how personal their conversation had just been, Nekohiko sighed at Mikawa to alleviate the tense atmosphere.

"Sorry, Mikawa. We're torturing you with weird stuff instead of showing off Nara to you like we promised, huh?"

"No, no. Please don't worry," the boy whispered. "I am enjoying Nara. Very. It's not at all the Den of Sin like you threatened it to be. And your conversation was not weird either. It was... illuminating, I guess. Nobody talked about these things back in Nagare."

The boy fumbled with his metallic chopsticks, hovering them over the dishes he wanted to try. Glazed duck with mushrooms, shredded radishes under the lemon drizzle, an assortment of steaming, elaborate octopi cakes, snowy folds of rice with red sprinkles of pickled plums. Ah, even Nekohiko felt the desire to join in.

"Illuminating. But you disagree with it, yes?" Kataji quirked an eyebrow, stashing a plum in his mouth.

Spooked, Mikawa gawked at Kataji. "Master Kataji, I am only thirteen. I do not have any experience to tell..."

"Ah, you're lucky you have never heard of my Eldest Brother's overzealous pursuits of beauties in his thirteen," Kataji grumbled in his cup of broth, then choked on the first gulp when a sudden lady with the freakiest smile popped up at their table, bowing deeply.

"Sorry for barging in, young masters," the lady gushed, covering her mouth with her sleeve coquettishly. "Master Abi, Master Nagare. I hope you are having a wonderful evening. My name is Fuyuko, and I am here to bring you gifts and signs of respect."

Mmm?

Nekohiko really didn't like it. He scanned the woman's visage but didn't need to. Her powdery-pink clothes with flower petals on them were screaming "Hisome" with every tiny fold of its silk.

"Gifts?" Kataji was still coughing after his drink. "From whom?"

Nekohiko gave Kataji and Mikawa a look of "I warned you, haven't I? The Den of Sin! Everywhere!" and reclined back in his seat to wait for the Hisome lady's punchline.

"Why, my Master -- his Majesty Morokata, is very excited to meet both of you!" The lady smiled even wider if it were possible. She offered Kataji and Mikawa each a ribboned, festive, glowing seal pendant with Hisome and Morokata names engraved on them. Wary but not wanting to seem rude, both young men took the pendants. "The moment you walked in, of course he was told, so now he invites you two to attend his private dining parlor. It has the best seats for watching the performance and the fastest cooks in The Three Foxes!"

Wow, so fast. Not only did Morokata know about Mikawa's presence in Nara, but also about what Abihiko's little brother looked like? However much Nekohiko despised the man, he had to admire his awareness of everything that went on under his nose.

"And here are the gifts he sent to show his regard. Please accept, young masters."

And before Mikawa could move out of the way, from nowhere -- three young ladies besieged his side of the table and caught Mikawa in their circle. One already planted her butt onto Mikawa's lap which was disturbing as hell. She was young but not as young as him.

Kataji was luckier because the route to him was still blocked by Nekohiko, so the three young ladies that were meant for him halted, unsure of how to advance.

Nekohiko had half an idea to free their way just to prove his earlier point to both young men. But he wouldn't. He felt responsible for them. He was the only grown-up in the group and he knew Morokata's usual tricks of disorienting people. Above all, he had sworn to protect Mikawa from all the dangers of vice-ridden Nara.

He smiled at the lady toothily. "Sorry, but I'm here. I am the entertainer gift and the touristic guide given to these young men by the Emperor himself, so please... do not mess with the Emperor's plans for how Masters Abi and Nagare spend their first night in the capital." He wrapped his voice in metal. "Or I will have to report it back to His Supreme Divine Majesty. Fuyuko, you say your name was?"

Fuyuko's trained expression shifted to alarmed. "Yes, Master...?"

"Minamoto Maroko," Nekohiko ground out delightedly. "Pleased to meet you."

The certain Minamoto Maroko was a very annoying councilor in Abihiko's court, and from having to watch him for days during Abihiko's arguments about the agriculture reform, Nekohiko was more than cranky about the man. This woman wouldn't know all the councilor's faces, so the name was bound to impress her for now and make her run back to her master for further instructions.

Which was exactly what happened. Fuyuko pleasantly laughed, bowing herself and her ladies out. She took a deliberate and hasty retreat down the third story and to the staircase leading into the private dining parlors. Yep, she would consult Morokata and all hells would break loose after that.

"Nice meal, we're leaving," Nekohiko announced to the waiter girl who had stood at the side all this while.

"Ah--?" Mikawa was still too traumatized by the frivolous ladies, so his reactions were delayed. With shaking hands, he put his chopsticks down. "But we just came..."

"Pack whatever you can in a basket and carry it out to the back exit behind the fish kitchen," Nekohiko slipped to the stunned waitress, then flapped his hands at Kataji and Mikawa. "If you value your chastity and your mind, we cannot stay here a moment longer. Trust me."

The threat worked. Both young men jumped to their feet and hurried toward where Nekohiko pointed them. They threw cautious glances behind them, but Nekohiko didn't bother.

If Morokata cared enough to catch them, they wouldn't be able to run in the first place. But since they could, it already meant he hadn't taken either Mikawa or Kataji seriously and would not expect them to react in this manner.

Which -- great. Nekohiko did not intend to allow either to fall into that monster's claws.

"Oh, but... this is the servants' staircase," Kataji mumbled, stopping dead in front of the very narrow and twisty stairs that led down. "Isn't it a bit inappropriate for us, noblemen, to--"

"Ah! I'm so dizzy!"

Nekohiko pushed himself off Kataji and of course couldn't keep his balance on the steps. He tilted downward and tripped, forcing Kataji to rush after him, all his noble concerns forgotten. Left alone behind, Mikawa followed immediately, and Nekohiko couldn't help but congratulate himself.

These two youths were so predictable. If even Nekohiko could manipulate them, these two would not survive even a minute against someone like Morokata!

They dashed through the servants' quarters, spooking waiters and dirty dishes-carrying dummies and causing havoc with their intrusion.

"Left, right! Straight ahead -- and that door on the side!" Nekohiko commanded as Kataji and Mikawa, utterly ashamed of their behavior and apologizing to the waiters at every step, fumbled around the tight corridors, looking for the way out.

Nekohiko erred only slightly. He could still remember what the back rooms of The Three Foxes looked like, apparently. Which brought on memories that, in turn, summoned a warm spark in his heart.

"Wait!" Nekohiko grabbed the last door to the backyard of the restaurant. He steadied himself against the door frame and peeked out, scanning the back alley for the presence of soldiers or Bound Guards as all fancy people like Morokata tended to drag around by the dozen.

His instincts didn't fail him. There, by the gate leading from the backyard -- stood four or five dummies and one human guard keeping vigil over the restaurant's side exits.

Well. That didn't imply anything suspicious yet. Unlikely that the guard or the dummies knew what Mikawa or Kataji looked like, let alone Nekohiko. As long as the three of them behaved inconspicuously, would the guard think much about three drunken aristocratic youths stumbling out of the restaurant as though looking for fresh air?

Exactly.

"Do not look so tense. Imagine that we're having fun, or that we've already had too much fun back inside," Nekohiko told the other two, then grabbed them, hanging off their shoulders in the greatest performance of drunkenness he could manage.

It wasn't much because he had never been drunk and had never stayed around other drunk people too long to remember what they acted like. But he slumped his body and weighed down both young men enough that they swayed, dragging him forward.

His performance hardly hid Kataji's unbelievable paleness or Mikawa's tremors. Such young, unprepared boys, they were! Couldn't even handle the shame of having run through a respectable establishment...

Not that Nekohiko enjoyed doing stuff like this. But at least he knew that people had to do it sometimes. Spirit Wayfaring was serious business. It required sacrifices. And sometimes, these sacrifices were a social death. To have oneself humiliated in public.

Seriously -- so many fond memories of his own youth and Wayfaring days, mmmm!

Just outside the gates and past the wary-looking Hisome guard, the waitress girl from earlier ran to Kataji. She gave him the basket with some of their meal packed inside, and Kataji stopped to bow at her profusely as he accepted the basket.

"Forgive us, miss! Please, forgive us for our terrible manners! We did not mean to cause so much trouble!"

"Please, forgive us," Mikawa echoed him.

Nekohiko also bowed as was polite, but mainly, he waited for them to be done and to keep walking until The Three Foxes was left far behind. He would never feel at ease around Hisome people, so the further he was from them, the better his mood would become...

And again, his instincts did not betray him.

"Sho! His Majesty wanted to know if you saw three young men exit here--" Fuyuko's aggravating voice called from the back doors of the kitchen, and Nekohiko flinched.

At first discreetly, he pushed both youths forward so as not to call the guard Sho's attention to them. The man was more absorbed by Fuyuko who began describing the appearances of the three nobles she was looking for. It was as good a chance as they'd ever get.

But then the guard realized it. And all of his Bound dummies snapped toward the escapees on his order.

Running from several Bound dummies when Nekohiko's legs still didn't work right? Futile. But then, they had something better at their service than running, didn't they?

"Mikawa, fly!" Nekohiko told the boy and hugged him from the back. "Can you?"

"Haaaah! Ah! With both you and Kataji? N-no..."

"Hey you three! Are you hurrying somewhere?" a rich baritone boomed behind them.

Damn it. 

"Kataji, run!" Nekohiko quickly decided, then clung to Mikawa even tighter. "Now fly."

"Run?! Where--"

But it was too late. Nekohiko already kicked his feet off the ground, giving Mikawa a jolt to finally spur up and to the skies. Nekohiko had thought about using his own Binding powers to escape, but he didn't want to leave behind a trail by which anyone could find him. Mikawa had to be more than enough.

They soared past the canopies of crystal trees in the nearby garden and over the roofs of the buildings. Nekohiko didn't need Mikawa to fly too far away -- just to the closest spot on one of the roofs. Once they flew across the multicolored shingles of a great gambling hall, Nekohiko released his hold around Mikawa's shoulders. He plummeted to the roof, failing to roll his clumsy limbs inward before the crash.

Holy hells -- the pain!

He landed on the shattering roof shingles, then whipped his head up to cry at Mikawa, "Now go get Kataji! Hisome methods aren't offensive, so their Binders are bad with thinking fast in battle. If you swoop just past them, they'll get spooked enough to be distracted!"

The boy left before he finished, but Nekohiko supposed Mikawa could hear his voice even from hundreds of leagues away if he wanted. The boy's black uniform flickered down the crystal trees one last time, and he disappeared behind the buildings. With that, Nekohiko could only sit back and wait.

"Who's stomping and breaking the shingles on my roof?!" came the hoarse roar from the room below. "Just you wait till I come there and kick yer ass, Binder scum!"

Nekohiko dangled his feet over the edge of the roof, ignoring the grumbling of the old man until it faded away.

He wasn't worried about Mikawa when the boy entered the battle mode. However flimsy he was in social interactions, his Lord of the Skies' powers would trample any regular Binder's, and that Sho man was nothing serious. Otherwise, he wouldn't be put at such an insignificant spot as the restaurant's back exit.

The sky above Nara burned blue with creeping purple, and the glow of the busy city from below gave the low-hanging clouds a magical hue. Noise and flutter of colors and sights in the streets was such a chaotic view that Nekohiko couldn't watch it for long. He instead directed his eyes to the Emerald shine of the Palace far away beyond the buildings and sky-scraping trees.

The nightly wind kissed his face, rippling his long hair in the gusts. He gazed, slow and melancholy, at the familiar sight, and an ache of yearning bloomed in his chest.

This evening and this small, giddy escape from The Three Foxes...

Why did it feel dear and so nostalgic and so... joyous to him, all of a sudden?

Behind him, another shatter of shingles disturbed the quiet over the roof. He turned just in time to see Kataji and Mikawa landing softly on the tiles, the silly meal basket in Kataji's arms, and a windswept, shocked expression on both young men's faces.

"This was horrible!" Kataji told him.

And Nekohiko couldn't help but smile.

"I know. But also -- it was just a bit fun, yes?" he asked, himself not knowing why.

He had never found these kinds of things fun.

He had always been complaining about it, telling Abihiko it was awful. Promising Abihiko to never ever -- in his life.

"Fun? Fun?!" Kataji exploded, dropping to his knees on the poor shingles. "It wasn't fun! I thought I'm going to die from how much anxiety it caused me!"

"Yeah," Nekohiko agreed, realizing. "Not fun. Sorry. I can't believe I'd say something like that. What has gotten into me? But hey -- at least the view is great. Come over, sit here. I found just the most perfect spot for having our dinner."

Kataji still wouldn't let it go, but he did come. And so did Mikawa.

And the only person who protested and complained through their small feast on top of the gambling parlor roof was the strange old man who lived in the attic beneath and who kept piling insults upon insults on them. Yet never dared to come out and kick their asses, after all.