Chapter Seventy-Nine

The Lord of Nothing

Part 3 of 3

 

 

Kotone wrote him a letter sixteen days into his journey with Suminoe through the Empire's Lordships.

"Sweet Nekohiko, please come back sooner; the other girls and I miss you so!"

Nekohiko couldn't even muster the care to roll his eyes at this statement. Kotone was trying to be nice, but did she have to lie so blatantly? Out of his entire class, no girl would give a damn about him. Come on.

Kotone herself, though... Her letter and its genuine words of concern and well-wishes warmed his soul, bringing him out of the tepid, depressed mindset that had plagued him for days ever since he and Suminoe left the Towa borders, going North to Utsuro.

But Kotone's letter wasn't solely about cute gossip in the School. The majority of the letter was filled with bad news. Or at least painful news.

Abihiko was in a very bad state, apparently. He was fighting a lot, he was getting into trouble, even so far as to be detained by the Binding Wayfarers responsible for the order in the region.

He was abusing his powers to fight and humiliate people...

He was drinking so much, Kotone had to intervene and demand him to stop at which point he had attacked her with his Binding, too...

His older acquaintances and paramours in the Izumo town took him to gambling parlors and places with foreign poisons where there were some truly obscene things going on...

Nekohiko crumpled the letter in his hands more than once but then had to straighten it out to read the rest of it.

Gods, he couldn't even read this mess in one go without shuddering or wanting to die of shame and horror.

"Please come back soon, or write to him. He needs you. I know you think he's only acting up or trying to draw attention because he has always been like that. But this time, I think it's more severe than that. He was fine while you were still here. All of this started happening after you and His Holiness left."

Nekohiko shredded his lips with his teeth, reading. His eyes ached at the next words.

"He suffers without you. He just doesn't know how to show it in a less destructive way, especially since you're not here. But Nekohiko -- if you just write to him, I'm sure that will already improve things--"

"Aaaargh," Nekohiko groaned, snapping the letter away once again. The blazing sun beyond the window of the roadside inn room he was in mocked him with how shiny and giddy the day was. How much of a great day's trip this would be. Provided that he and Suminoe hurried and left the inn early to cover more ground in their pilgrimage to the Isle of Happiness¹福島 (Fukushima) -- "Isle of Happiness" where the Lord of Utsuro lived.

But he could not leave and go just yet. He needed to finish this letter and answer. Send at least some small message back. But about what?

This was painful.

What would he write? Nekohiko could hardly even formulate what he wanted to tell him out-loud, let alone in such an official and formalized manner as letter-writing... Would Abihiko even read it or would he just go into a full rage?

If only Nekohiko could go there and... talk to him. In person.

Or not talk at all.

He could just hug him. Just... be with him. Just hold his hand and... never let go.

Yet he could not. He was the Emperor. He needed to meet the Lord of Utsuro, and this journey was happening precisely so that Nekohiko met all the Lords and directly traveled through so many of the lands of his Empire. To see all the corners of it. To understand it. To accept his duties before his people and his Spirits.

He could not leave and go be with Abihiko, however much he wanted to. Even if his heart bled and spurred him to drop everything and go back to Izumo to clutch Abihiko in his arms, it still didn't matter.

His responsibilities came first.

He loved his Empire too much to choose one single person over it.

When he rose to his feet to go down to the inn's lobby and leave a letter in response, he knew what he had to write in it.

A concise, non-committing answer. Above all -- a reasonable, even logical advice without any of those sappy statements Kotone had made.

Suffers without him... needs Nekohiko... wants him...

Abihiko has quite a bizarre way of showing all these things, doesn't he? Nekohiko thought vengefully as he scribbled down the reply.

"Dear Kotone, thank you for your concerns. I am well and learning so much about our blessed Empire. Hope you're well, too.

"P.S.: Regarding Abihiko -- I'm afraid you are mistaken. He and I do not have much in common, so I don't know how I can help him. Sorry. Please notify Lord Hira Okinaga about his ward son's problems -- I can bet he will take much better care of him than I ever would."

He didn't doubt it was the best possible way to solve Abihiko's issues. Lord Okinaga genuinely cared about Abihiko, so apart from keeping the boy in check, he might even give him some fatherly advice, relieve Abihiko's pain, give him a way to channel his anger and frustration into something better than drinking and gambling and doing... all the rest of the obscene things that were in Kotone's letter of horrors.

With the reply out of his hands, the only thing he could do was find Suminoe as fast as possible. And be on their way to Utsuro.

And not think about Abihiko whatsoever through this day.

Please.

 

 

---

***

 

At the end of the beach strand, there stood a lighthouse made of Bound, glasslike sands. Nekohiko noted the place from afar and dragged his feet toward it across the rocky, uninviting shore.

Not that there was anything else of note here. The lighthouse stood amidst an utter desolation of life -- both on land where there weren't even cliffs or trees to offset the solitude of the lighthouse, and at sea that stretched to the horizon on such a cloudy, grey day, Nekohiko had a hard time separating the lackluster beach from the sky.

Everything looked drab in the Lord of Utsuro's vicinity. But Nekohiko knew that was exactly the point.

Suminoe had abandoned him at the inn almost half a day away from this place. The Head Priests of Izumo and the Lords of Utsuro didn't mix well, Suminoe had told him. Their powers clashed with one another because the Splitting technique of the Utsuros was in direct opposition to Binding itself...

But then, so was the Emperor's power. The Emperor was also in opposition to Utsuro.

And perhaps, everyone else was.

Yet in any case, Nekohiko had to come here alone as Suminoe had told him. No need to worry about the Lord of Utsuro misbehaving or doing something dangerous. He would never. Unless ordered to.

Thus, Nekohiko didn't need Suminoe's guidance or protection here, and if his absence would put the Lord of Utsuro in better spirits -- then all the better. After all, look at this desolate, hollow place where Sakai lived. Or any place where he would come and settle down in, because, with time, even the land around the Lords of Utsuro began fading away, leeched by the Utsuro power into dreariness.

No wonder Sakai was in a permanent bad mood.

Taught by Suminoe what to do and what to ask, Nekohiko followed the tidal edge over the beach, drawing the flopping hems of his robes close around his figure from the piercing winds that seemed cold even in the middle of summer. The waves lapped at his feet as he ventured into the thin strand that broke away from the rest of the shore, twisting farther into the sea like a thrust spear. At the end of that spear, was Sakai's castle.

Or... well, a lighthouse.

Sakai wasn't allowed to have a castle. No Lord or Lady of Utsuro was. And that was partly the reason Nekohiko felt so unthreatened to come here alone.

Nekohiko rose up the rough stony steps that led to the lighthouse tower's door.

It was only a cave inside, not any real home. Yet even such a small dwelling space could not belong to Sakai, the current Lord of Utsuro. A beggar, a bandit, an accidental wandered could come here, enter it and sleep inside even without asking Sakai's permission.

Or else, they could come over to Sakai himself and simply say, "Give me this house. It is mine now" -- and Sakai would not be able to refuse them or fight. He would have to give up this small house he'd made out of the sands with his own magic.

Likewise, if someone asked Sakai to give them his food, he would give it up, too. Or his clothes, or his time, or any of his things. The only exceptions would be Sakai's powers and his life.

These two things belonged solely to the Empire, and thus, he would have no right to pass it over to anyone else.

A harsh life, wasn't it? Nekohiko thought as he studied the entry into the murky, cold lighthouse and the small circular room inside it. How could one live being a Lord of Utsuro?

How could one not despair and lose all will to live?

The room was scarcely furnished. Only a roll of the Bound-straw bed and a small table by which Sakai sat beside a slender, shutter-less window. The draft from the window disturbed Sakai's hair and brought in scents of salt and snow, which, again, was so surprising in summer.

Sakai didn't turn to regard Nekohiko, but Nekohiko knew immediately it was Sakai. Not some random beggar or a barbarian who had simply happened to be inside Sakai's lighthouse, but the Lord of Utsuro himself.

Most would assume he'd be a savage, though. On top of Sakai's head, trailing down his slick black hair, sat an odd headdress that Nekohiko had only seen on Ezo²Native peoples of the north of Japan, neighbors of Ainu. barbarians who lived in the North of the Empire. It was a fur veil that Ezos wore on their heads like trails flowing down the back of their hair. Only instead of animal fur, it was metallic fur. Made of white silver, hard and sharp as needles, and just as uncomfortable. With Splitting magic, Ezos usually removed the enormous weight and the metallic noise these furs made and wore them proudly as a mark of their tribe allegiance.

For whatever reasons, Sakai wore the same fur cover on his head, and another on his shoulders and back, giving him the look of a native Ezo barbarian.

Yet Nekohiko sensed that he wasn't. All the negative Utsuro power that was distorting everything around his beach strand was emanating solely from this man sitting beside this table and drinking something from his crudely-made stone cup; Nekohiko could feel it.

Sakai kept drinking, watching out his window, even when Nekohiko stepped up to his very table.

Now, he could see the Lord of Utsuro's face. An impressive face, as everything else about this person was. Sakai was ridiculously tall and almost inhumanly thin. His hair had a brittle and thin quality, hanging limply around his face, framing it haggardly with its contrast of black hair and the whitish metallic fur at the top of Sakai's head and shoulders.

Within this contrast of black and white, Sakai's skin looked sallow and wan, with a blueish tint of insomnia and illness. His gaunt cheeks highlighted how sunken his eyes were and how deep and dark his gaze.

Only when Nekohiko sat down beside Sakai by his table, did Sakai care to look at him impassively.

Nekohiko had been taught what to say to start a conversation with Sakai. Though it still made him squirm about how rude this method of speaking would be.

"I'm thirsty. Give me your cup," Nekohiko said.

Without so much as blinking, Sakai stopped sipping from his cup and passed it over to Nekohiko. Nekohiko suppressed a shiver as he took the cup and gave its insides a cursory glance.

Some sheer, colorless liquid. Probably water.

Under Sakai's heavy gaze, he downed whatever was in the cup. Nope. Not water. Alcohol.

His mouth twisted in a tight line against the onslaught of coughing that came from within him. Nekohiko teared up, trying not to choke up too pathetically in front of Sakai. With a few terrible heaves, he succeeded, then raised his pained eyes at the Lord of Utsuro, who had by now assumed a different pose and expression.

He now looked mildly... bored. Which was good, because before, he had looked severely bored instead.

"Thank you," Nekohiko breathed, half-choked.

Sakai inclined his head in acknowledgment.

A tradition, that. Because Lords of Utsuro could own nothing, whenever one took any of the things they carried -- one had to thank them for it. A "thank you" was an empty thing and thus did not count as something that the Lord of Utsuro could keep, so it was one of the few small nothings most people were free to give to Sakai. Which they did, a lot, while they took everything else from him.

"I am Nekohiko, the true Emperor of this land," Nekohiko told him next. "I came to introduce myself to you and to get to know you."

Slightly frowning, Sakai blinked. Which, Nekohiko assumed, was Sakai's way of stating -- "sure, all right, now what?"

But he still didn't speak. Suminoe had warned Nekohiko that most Lords of Utsuro weren't a sociable kind, but Sakai -- especially so.

If Nekohiko wanted something from him, he had to be the one to ask. So Nekohiko did.

"His Holiness the Head Priest told me I should learn about all the Great Lords and their powers, and the Utsuro power is the last one I need to learn about. So... um, could you teach me?"

...

Yet Sakai still didn't react.

Nekohiko realized how this would work if he wanted it to. If one wanted something from Sakai, one simply had to demand it. No?

"Give me everything I need to know about the Utsuro method," Nekohiko said, decisive.

And that did it.

Slow, Sakai's deep dark eyes swept above Nekohiko and out toward the doors. He rose to his feet, dwarfing Nekohiko even when Nekohiko straightened to his full height next to him. Hells, even Okinaga and Kazuragi would look short compared to this bony, haggard scarecrow of a man...

It was so easy, to be taught the Utsuro method. No small-talk, no lengthy introductions, no receptions and tea parties or conversations about the mutual goals and strategies in the nearest future. The other Great Lords had all needed something in exchange for their acquaintance to Nekohiko. Yet Sakai didn't need anything. Not that he could be allowed to have it anyway.

Outside, the salty winds slashed at them, much stronger than when Nekohiko had come here. Sakai's metallic furs ruffled up from the gusts and the long folds of his clothes flapped in tune with Nekohiko's.

"Why do you wear barbarian garments?" Nekohiko asked, baffled. Was there something he did not know about Utsuro magic or about the endless restrictions on Utsuro Lords?

For the first time, Sakai halted and turned to Nekohiko with genuine intrigue in his eyes. "Ezos are not barbarians," he said, his voice toneless and dry. "They lived here first."

...

Well, Nekohiko didn't mean to imply they were "barbaric"! He was just using the labels everyone used when they talked of Ezo tribes. It wasn't his fault the language was such...

But then, a strange thought occurred to him. What if it was his fault?

Had the people who defeated and displaced Ezos from their birth land not been Nekohiko's ancestors? Was he not responsible for their way of living at the outskirts of his Empire now?

"You didn't answer my question, though," Nekohiko grumbled, in a much more depressed mood. "I wasn't asking about who Ezos were; only about why you wear their clothes."

"Their clothes?" Sakai gave him another resentful gaze. "Did your Head Priest not tell you anything about who I was before becoming Lord of Utsuro?"

Nekohiko's mouth opened in shock. "No, why...?"

Sakai did not reply, once again moving on across the beach with his weighty, grim footsteps.

An epiphany came to Nekohiko.

Sakai was... himself... an Ezo? Well, that kind of made sense because, according to Suminoe, nobody was dying to become the Lords of Utsuro. For obvious reasons. Lord of Utsuro wasn't a hereditary title like the other Lords and was more like the Head Priest -- an elected position.

But because nobody wanted to be one, more often than not, this position was enforced on someone. And usually, enforced as a way to punish. True criminals would not be fit to become Lords of Utsuro, so the people punished by this title had to not have committed any real crimes.

Exiles and rebels fit that bill most perfectly.

So yes, Sakai could have been one of the many natives who refused to swear allegiance to the Emerald Throne. Making one of them the Lord of Utsuro was not such a bad idea. They wouldn't be able to abuse their powers anyway because their powers belonged to the Emperor, and they wouldn't be able to flee their duties either.

But it still didn't stop it from sounding so... wrong to Nekohiko.

He followed after Sakai, tripping over the jagged rocks of the beach, afraid to meet Sakai's gaze.

"Open the Spiritside," Sakai said when they stopped.

Nekohiko didn't dare to ask anything now so he did as told. 

Nothing exactly changed in their surroundings once the Spiritside's dark wind swept over where they stood. The skies darkened to a dull black color, but the rest of the empty landscape was exactly the same.

"Splitting," Sakai said, then gestured a few simple Utsuro signatures as he showed Nekohiko his mastery over the rocks, the sand, the water, even the ground and the skies above.

Everything could be Split apart, opening a gash of void in the cracks Sakai made. Nekohiko had known that one could Split matter easily, but he had no idea that such abstract concepts as one's sight of the sky could also be Split, or the wind's gust as they came over Sakai and him.

Even light was subject to Sakai's Splitting. Not that Nekohiko knew what to do with this information.

How could one benefit from Splitting the rare sun-rays into several refracted shards of glowing filaments that broke further apart into rainbow-like shimmer?

"Why would one Split the light?" Nekohiko asked Sakai after Sakai showed him another fancy trick of Splitting the keening noise of the wind further over the shore.

The wind now sounded eerily like wind chimes. A kind of music, broken and jagged at the edges.

But it still didn't explain to Nekohiko why do this.

"Because it prepares Utsuro Lords to cast the ultimate Splitting techniques. The human soul. The mind. The conscience. Abstract concepts have the same basic rules to separating them. One has to learn how to properly use them," Sakai said, disaffected. Then, before Nekohiko could feel threatened, he stopped casting altogether.

"I cannot show you that, though. There are no humans here other than you and me."

"I... understand," Nekohiko said, shaken. "I wouldn't ask you even if there were."

Sakai ignored him. "And after the Lords of Utsuro master those abstracts, we train to cast the ultimate Splitting spell. The sole reason we, the Lords of Utsuro, are needed. We are the final line of defense of the Empire against an enemy."

In the Spiritside, Sakai's lightless voice sounded especially grim. Too bad what he said made no sense to Nekohiko.

"Hiras are the last defense line of the Empire," he said. "The fourth line after Nagare repealing, Hisome concealment, and Towa aggression. The Hira destruction."

Well, at least this was what every history book had told him along with Izumo's introductory course on Hira history.

Unlike the other Great Houses, Hiras derived their power from the land and the heat inside the land. They couldn't fight outside the Empire's borders. So the only time when Hiras fought, they fought the invaders who had already come to the Empire's blessed land, unwelcome, disgraceful in their desire to conquer.

The first Legendary Hira Lord -- Yamashiro -- had wielded his blood-red Chifude sword to open fissures and cracks in the land to swallow the enemies who had dared to defile the Empire with their boots. The earthquakes raked the Empire, crushing the enemy forces with the knowledge that here, even the land itself was against them. Waves of lava and magma had splashed out of those cracks, drowning the hapless invaders and immolating them on the spot.

Of course, the earthquakes and lava could also endanger and kill the people of the Empire along with the enemy. But that didn't matter. If the enemy came so close, the stakes were already not in the Empire's favor. Drastic measures had to be taken, and Hira's line of defense was exactly that:

A drastic, desperate measure. But as long as it worked...

Nekohiko didn't even know what could be the line of defense further than that, so Sakai's words sounded like a cruel joke to him.

Yet Sakai shook his head, bitter. "There is one more defense line. One that only you can use."

"...me?"

Yes, Sakai nodded. "The Emperor. Lords of Utsuro do not have control of our own powers. The Empire does. And who commands the Empire if not you? Thus, if the time comes to use the last line of defense, you are the only one who can decide to use it. Who has the moral duty to use it if it's necessary."

...

Nekohiko swallowed with difficulty. "What does that power entail...?"

"If you order me to, I will cast the ultimate Splitting spell."

With that, Sakai briefly changed his finger formations to those of Hisome illusion. He grabbed at empty air, then glamored it to enlarge.

Nekohiko couldn't even see what the matter was that Sakai tried to enlarge in his hands -- but Sakai kept going, seemingly casting the growing size spells at the nothingness that he held.

"What is it?" Nekohiko asked. "Air?"

"Yes, something like air. But it doesn't matter where this element comes from. It's in the very fabric of existence -- in air, in water, in humans, in every other matter in the world. This."

At last, in Sakai's fingers, something showed.

A small, tiny... morsel. A particle, like a piece of dust, floating in empty space. Sakai showed it to Nekohiko, then kept growing this small illusion in size.

A small, round thing, like a pearl. Nekohiko cocked his head to the side, studying it in befuddlement.

What the hell was this thing?

"Inside it, there are plenty of other, smaller particles, but this one is enough for the demonstration," Sakai said. "Splitting it requires abstract thinking and training the Utsuro Lords go through to reach the level at which we can Split what's deep inside this... element³Atom, obviously +_+. Even though they shouldn't be aware of their existence, Lords of Utsuro can access them, I guess? Hmm...."

"And what happens when you Split what's inside this element?" Nekohiko asked numbly.

Instead of an answer, Sakai turned and flung the small sphere of the illusory air away from himself. It shot over the beach and went too far away for Nekohiko to see it anymore. It completely vanished on the horizon.

And Sakai still waited a long enough time that Nekohiko understood that he had directed this sphere to fly to a very, very large distance from here.

...why so far?

Would Nekohiko even be able to see what happened when Sakai finally Split it--?

And then, he did.

His question died on his lips when all at once -- the bleak monotone horizon of the Spiritside went off in an eclipsing wave of an explosion.

Actually, Nekohiko would struggle to call it an explosion. The skies went blind with light, then, a moment later -- came the cloud at its wake.

It was an impact to shake the very foundations of the earth, so deep and so powerful it was. A great cloud of darkness, rising over the horizon in a slow, silent column. The top of the cloud was scattering into a fluffy roundness while the bottom grew thin and tall as it rose in a bizarre shape of a blurry, hideous mushroom.

Nekohiko realized his cheeks were stained with tears simply from looking at something so bright and... so high... he'd thrown his head up to just be able to see the top of the cloud as it merged with the darkness of the abyss-like skies. And though the cloud had gone off a few seconds ago, the sound and force of its explosion were reaching Nekohiko and Sakai only now.

A deep, aching rumble that resonated all through Nekohiko's bones and into his marrow.

So much... wrongness!

He ached and felt nauseated, yet at the same time, he was fully aware this was only an illusion. This wasn't even the real spell!

"Stop it," he croaked, recoiling from Sakai. "Dispel the illusion! I don't want to see it--!"

"You told me to tell you, so I did."

"I did not want to see that! Why would I--? Why would anyone--?" Nekohiko couldn't find himself even after Sakai waved the illusion off into nothing more than a mist, dissipating shortly into the Spiritside. "This is not defense! This is... annihilation! Where would you even cast such a spell?!"

"Here, in our Empire," Sakai said simply. "Utsuro magic wouldn't work anywhere else."

"But that would... wipe our Empire from the face of the earth!" Nekohiko roared, pointing. "What kind of defense is that?!"

"The ultimate kind." Sakai turned aside, very much unimpressed by Nekohiko's hysteria. "Self-destruction is a kind of victory. As long as the Empire doesn't fall and is not defeated, even death is preferable."

...

...

What... the hell was this statement?

Nekohiko heaved, unable to believe his ears and eyes.

"No," he said, choking out of voice. "I'm not going to use that spell. Ever! I am not insane! Nobody would be that insane! Death is not preferable! The ultimate defense of our land and our people is not to self-destruct! It's to... surrender and... accept defeat... or whatever! But not... that! Anything but that!"

Sakai watched him out of the corner of his eye. "All the Empires that stood on this land before ours would disagree."

All the Empires?

What Empires? Had there been any Empires here before this one?

Nekohiko gaped in horror, then shook his head. No, this kind of thinking was wrong. He should not accept this.

"Ultimately, it's your duty and responsibility as the Emperor, to choose or not to choose this ultimate defense spell," Sakai told him, grave. "If you decide to surrender our Empire to the enemy, so be it. Choose that. You don't have to use Utsuro for that, though. So what are you so worried about? It's your choice, after all. No one is forcing you."

No one is forcing you...

And yet, it sure felt like someone did.

The pressure to succeed, to not fail his royal subjects, or his land, or his Spirits -- Nekohiko felt it. The sheer weight of all this responsibility threatened to crush him, especially now when he knew what kind of powers truly lay at his disposal.

"They call me the Lord of Nothing, and you -- the Lord of Everything," Sakai told him, a tint of softness in his tone. "I wonder if there's really any difference, in the end. At the top of the Empire, you seem just as lonely and lost as I am here -- at its bottom."

He cast his gaze over the desolate landscape, exiting the Spiritside to go back to his empty lighthouse and its drab, cold walls.

Nekohiko watched him go away, too pained to speak or move, or... even breathe without reminding himself he had to.

This meeting had shattered him, even more so than any of the previous meetings with the Great Lords. The full scope of the responsibilities of being a good Emperor was nothing short of heartbreaking.

But he still forced himself to say the only thing everyone had to give to the Lord of Utsuro when they were done with him. He could give him this one kindness, no?

Nekohiko's horrible fate was not Sakai's fault, anyway.

"Thank you," Nekohiko rasped, hoping that Sakai would hear.

He did.

"You're welcome," came a quiet reply.

 

 

---

***

 

When he and Suminoe came back to Izumo after a whole month of traveling, this was the first time that Suminoe had asked Nekohiko if he was actually willing to ascend his throne.

The first and the last. The only time.

They stood at the entrance gates to the Shrine, and Nekohiko halted dead in his tracks when he heard the question.

...

He did not know if he could answer it so easily.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Nekohiko replied at last.

"You do not," Suminoe said, gently. "But, if you did have a choice, from the bottom of your heart -- would you choose to be the Emperor, Nekohiko? Truthfully?"

...

The leaves were reddening in maples around the main square. The summer was ending and soon the new School year would begin. Nekohiko watched the leaves twirl in the hazing heat, then shook his head.

"Of course," he said. "Of course I would still choose to be the Emperor. Someone should. Our Empire deserves it that somebody wants to. And doesn't treat it as punishment either, but does it with an open heart. With love." He turned to Suminoe, smiling. "I do want to be the Emperor, whatever it takes, Suminoe."

The first time Nekohiko had called him his real name. And the last one, so really -- the only time ever.

Nekohiko felt it fit the occasion because this question was the most crucial in his future life and everything he would do on his path. No?

Suminoe's lips twitched up in a creepy smile of his own. "But you are not one yet, are you?"

No, he was not.

Soft, Suminoe's hand landed on Nekohiko's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You still have time to do all the things the Emperor would have to leave behind before the Imperial responsibilities would take priority. Do not waste it."

"Mn." He would not.

Not in the world.

Instead of going back to his dorm room to rest after a long journey, Nekohiko rushed through the School to look... for someone. For someone specific. Yet hard as he looked, that person wasn't here.

Kotone told him that Abihiko had gone away to Hira Okinaga's castle to spend the rest of the summer there. Exactly as Nekohiko had advised him to do in his letter weeks ago. So it meant that... Nekohiko had to wait for him.

Had to wait for him to come back.

There were only two weeks left in the summer break, so it could not be such a long wait. Yet to Nekohiko, it felt as though it was long.

He didn't have much time left. Only a year and a half before he turned sixteen and was bound to claim his throne and leave all his selfish desires for happiness behind.

This, even these two weeks seemed like an eternity to wait through.

 

 

---

***

 

Everyone had come back to Izumo before the first day of the new year, but Abihiko still hadn't. Nekohiko jittered, unable to distract himself. Of course, the pupils didn't have to go back to School at the beginning of the year once they became Wayfarers. They could just go on missions for Spirit hunting and only come to Izumo rarely, to report and to update their skills in the general classes.

Thus, there was a slight chance that Abihiko wouldn't come back at all. And would just go straight into Wayfaring on his own, without visiting Izumo first.

Or maybe not even that. Morokata had taken off a year from Wayfaring and studying for personal reasons, so why not someone else?

Nekohiko didn't know what to think about this. He didn't know what to talk about this either -- to Kotone when she asked if he had received any messages from Abihiko, or to Suminoe when he inquired whether Nekohiko would leave for Wayfaring on the very first day of School.

How could he leave if he didn't have a chance to make peace with Abihiko first? Wayfaring would take them both two years to do. If they didn't see each other now... they might not see each other at all until Nekohiko became sixteen and thus, would need to ascend the throne.

So, when the first day of School began, Nekohiko went to the main hall of the Shrine School forlorn. He didn't even look up at the throngs of his classmates -- Koki, Sakami, Kiyoko, Juro, Yatsuri... many pupils Nekohiko's age that he had learned to tolerate through the years. They ran past him, congratulating each other and even him, so happy to finally to have become Spirit Wayfarers or the Priest adepts in the Shrine.

They were all mere red blurs in his eye.

Red was the color of the Fifth year student robes. Red, red everywhere. Like the most colorful autumn in the world.

Abihiko had told him countless times how the Fifth year would be his happy year. Would be his favorite year. Would be Abihiko's year, period.

Yet here it was, this year. And where was he?

Nekohiko stopped at the edge of the main square before the Shrine, looking up at the branches of red maple trees that swayed and rustled so blissfully in the last summer winds. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, coloring them into brilliant hues of crimson and vermilion and coral.

All the colors that made Nekohiko's heart bleed and yearn for...

Him.

Nekohiko froze. His breath hitched when he saw the most searing red of all at the far end of the square.

Everyone's robes this year were different hues of red, but of course -- of course his had to be the most blazing, loud, and visible red in the world. Like a wound in the landscape, beautiful, shining silk, swaying along with the breeze both in his long hems and in his floor-length ribbon in his hair.

On his lips, too. As always. Especially when they were smiling like they were now,

Nekohiko's feet carried him toward him even before Nekohiko could stop himself.

His heart pounded. Abihiko looked... like heartbreak, seriously.

Abihiko's smile grew when Nekohiko came closer, and, for a moment, Nekohiko doubted if the smile was directed at him. It could not be.

Abihiko was mad at him. Why would he smile?

But then --

Nekohiko stopped before him, a mere step away.

...

"Dummy," Abihiko whispered, eyes narrowing. But his smile didn't fade at all. "You look amazing. Red suits you so well."

"Not as much as you," Nekohiko breathed.

Ah, Abihiko was clearly pleased. But he waved Nekohiko's compliment off. "Flattery. You're just used to seeing me in red, that's all. On you, though -- what a rare color."

Nekohiko would have asked Abihiko how he was. Was Abihiko no longer angry? Was he no longer drinking and gambling and... going around men?

But none of that mattered. As long as they were together, Nekohiko didn't mind any of those other things in the slightest.

They stood a while without speaking, only watching each other awkwardly. Nekohiko felt the tension and the frustration that had built up between them through the months of being apart. But he couldn't do anything about it.

Not if he were his usual self. But perhaps, if he did something new he had learned to do?

"Abihiko..." he said, trembling. "D-do you know how bunnies sniff?"

At the same time as Nekohiko began speaking, Abihiko also wanted to ask him something. But he stopped, a deep frown on his face.

"Excuse me, what?" Abihiko balked.

All of Nekohiko went cold with dread. He cleared his throat. "You started saying something else...? What was it?"

"I was saying," Abihiko went on with a nervous chuckle, "that we both missed your birthday with Yakabe's death and all that. I wanted to give you your present right after the exam, but then that whole breaking-up mess happened."

He laughed, clearly uncomfortable to remember.

Nekohiko stepped in closer as though to hold him by the hand and show him that he didn't care about that. That he still wanted to be friends, more than anything.

But Abihiko's hands were busy. With shame, Nekohiko realized he'd missed that Abihiko was carrying a real, metallic sword in his hands. A sword vaguely reminiscent of the wooden Maple Apple's shape, but a grown-up version of it. And in Abihiko's other hand -- something small was squeezed, something hidden.

Abihiko lifted that small thing to Nekohiko's eyes, opening his palm.

"Sorry it took me so long to give it to you after I got it. But I really wanted you to take note of this gift. It means a lot to me," Abihiko said, sounding mortified. "Here, happy birthday, Neko... hiko."

"Thank you." Nekohiko took the thing in his hands, confused about what it was.

Some kind of a seashell?

"It's very... pretty," he said.

But then, his mind sparked up with a sudden thought. Abihiko had said it was meaningful to him. Why would some random seashell be meaningful? Carefully, Nekohiko turned it over in his fingers. It looked rare, and it looked... foreign. No seashells like this existed in their Empire.

"Is this from Lord Okinaga's seashell necklace? I know... You told me about this one. It's called Kitten's Paw and it reminds you of me, yes?"

Aww, what an adorable gift. Wanting to smile, Nekohiko raised his eyes at Abihiko and saw just how pale and nervous Abihiko was. 

...why?

Oh.

Wait.

Then the answer came -- instant and electrifying when Nekohiko remembered. Lord Okinaga would not just randomly give up any of the things in his treasury, including these seashells. The only way he would was if Abihiko asked for this one seashell out of all the treasures Okinaga had.

"Abihiko, is this the treasure you asked Lord Okinaga to give you after the ten years as his ward?" Nekohiko recalled that Abihiko had told him before that he had already received Okinaga's gift but wouldn't tell Nekohiko about it.

Was this seashell it?!

The only thing Abihiko had desired to get from Okinaga after years of craving some famed artifacts and relics instead? A small, meager seashell?

It wasn't even a magical item like a talisman or an amulet. Just a regular seashell!

It could not have been worthy of a ten-year bond between a ward father and son!

"Don't be ridiculous. It's nothing. You don't like it?" Abihiko asked, eyes averted. "I mean, it's important to me that you have it, but if you think it's trash, then... you can throw it out. I wouldn't mind. It is kind of trash, I suppose..."

"Wasn't this seashell part of the engagement gift of Okinaga's to Asazuma?" Nekohiko went on, getting more and more horrified with the implications of such a gift.

"No."

"It was. When Okinaga gave it to Asazuma, he said -- if you accept, it'll mean we will be together forever, from now on. We will belong to each other and we will never break apart--"

"Neko, I said no!" Abihiko cried out. His paleness had suddenly shifted to a furious blush, and Nekohiko could only stare, wide-eyed at how deeply vulnerable talking about it made the other boy.

Abihiko wanted to smack the seashell out of Nekohiko's hand, but Nekohiko didn't let him. He pressed his fist with the seashell to his chest, then reached out to Abihiko's ponytail.

Out of it, he drew a few silk threads, quickly Binding them together into a short, thin cord. So searingly-red, it hurt his eyes to look at for too long. With his fingers trembling, he Fused the seashell with the center of the cord, hanging it off it like a pendant.

This is not trash, Abihiko.

Never dare think that again.

He turned his back to Abihiko, then swept all his hair off his own neck to expose it.

"Bind the pendant cord closed around my neck, please," he said.

"Neko, don't be stupid! It's not that big a deal if you hate it--"

Tsk, Abihiko. Why so insecure, all of a sudden?

"I like it. I want to wear it." Nekohiko waited for Abihiko to pull both ends of the cord closed around his neck and shivered a little when the cool surface of the seashell lay safe against the hollow of his throat. Before turning, he added, "Does this seashell gift mean the same to you as it did for Okinaga and Asazuma?"

Abihiko's eyebrows drew together. He looked as though he would deny it, so Nekohiko took it over from him.

"Because if it does, then yes," Nekohiko said, certain. "I want to be with you forever, too. Just so you know."

His voice was shaky and so was his hand when he brushed Abihiko's fingers with his own.

"I don't want to ever be apart again, all right?" Nekohiko went on. "If you're mad at me, please be mad at me. You can hit me, we can fight. We can argue all you want. But please -- don't... leave me again. I hated it. I hated the months without you and that you were so cold and distant... please... promise me you won't..."

He was rambling; he knew. But he couldn't stop because he really wanted Abihiko to hear it all.

"Neko..." Abihiko accepted Nekohiko's hand in his. Slowly, their fingers twined together, letting Nekohiko feel just how warm and firm Abihiko's grip was. "I won't ever leave you."

"Mn, good."

"You really want us to be together?" Abihiko asked then, and his eyes studied Nekohiko's face in some hopeful inspiration. How shiny Abihiko's gaze became, how easily-smiling his lips... "You and me? Like... Okinaga wanted with my mom? Really?"

Nekohiko stilled so close to Abihiko's face.

With force, he swallowed, then nodded. He knew what Abihiko meant by this.

Truth be told, Nekohiko didn't want to be a romantic couple with Abihiko. Or with anyone, ever. But... if this was what he needed to do to be together with him? Then, sure.

...

Why not...

"Mn," he said, then rushed into a tight embrace, crushing his arms around Abihiko. He wanted to cry, so conflicted he felt about this. "I want to be together with you. As best friends, all right? Together, forever. Yes?"

Abihiko stiffened inside his hug when he heard the words "as best friends". But his tension didn't last long. Only after a moment, he softly hugged Nekohiko back and let out a weary but peaceful sigh.

"Of course. As best friends, Nekohiko. Forever."

He might have sounded a bit lost, but Nekohiko did not correct him. For now. If Abihiko thought this was it, that they would only ever be friends to each other -- it was fine by him.

Nekohiko could not promise him anything more than this. Not yet, at least. He would want to try something more physical or emotional later, to see if he could accept it personally. But he would not give Abihiko false hopes in case nothing would ever change between them.

For now, being "friends only" had to be enough.

For Nekohiko, it was perfect. Perhaps, for Abihiko, too.