Chapter Hundred and Six — The Great Teacher Hibiki
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Chapter Hundred and Six

The Great Teacher Hibiki

 

"Are you sure?" Abihiko asked him one last time.

Nekohiko squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Yes."

He was ready. The few trial runs with his damage and pain-redistributing spells seemed perfectly enough for him. Not for Abihiko, probably... but nobody was asking Abihiko. If Abihiko hindered Nekohiko's attempts to deal with this issue in the open, Nekohiko would still do it regardless.

Only now he would do it without inviting Abihiko to be near. In secrecy and far greater danger because he would be completely alone doing it.

And Abihiko knew this.

His face maintained his well-trained solemnity even if his eyes burned with fierce frustration at what Nekohiko wanted to do. But he spoke nothing of it.

Nekohiko smiled.

"It must be so hard for you. To keep your mouth shut when I can see clear in your eyes how dangerous you find this."

"I'm just waiting to say 'I told you so' when you ruin this perfectly fine body by mistake and are forced to remain with me as a meager seashell afterward." His sly smirk summoned the image of a cat, so smooth he was. "Then you won't be able to torture me ever again, which would be a definite improvement."

...

"Yes, because we both know you would never -- ever Encourage your Emperor off to a seashell," Nekohiko said, blank.

"I had no idea-- and you, spying on people in the middle of something so intimate!"

"People? It was just you! And we are married, so that's completely appropriate."

Oops, he realized they hadn't been husbands back then yet, so...

Abihiko's eyebrow popped up in an extremely elegant manner.

Quick! a change of a topic.

"I am off to Morokata," Nekohiko blurted and fled.

His heart and breathing were elevated across his bodies when he shifted to them. Singly because his thoughts could not leave as swiftly as his conscious presence in the body did.

His thoughts were still with Abihiko and the two of them. And everything they were to each other and could do when all alone.

Such heavenly these thoughts were, he even missed at first where his dummy twin's body was.

He was aiming for the dummy twin -- in Izumo. Not toward any of his many bodies scattered across Nara and Nagare. Yet somehow, whenever he shifted to the dummy twin body, he found himself in... Nara. The capital.

It confused him.

He almost thought there was some sort of a mistake, but...

Yes, this was the dummy twin body. In Nara.

Not just in Nara -- in the Emerald Palace.

No doubt about that. Instantly, all his precious little thoughts about being with Abihiko slipped away... and cold, dark trepidation substituted them.

The change in the air and the subtle noise of the great city were a dead giveaway he was no longer in the safe and serene reaches of Izumo Spiritway Shrine. But more so were the darkly-green colors of Emerald, as though glowing from within in a sinister light.

The Palace.

Somewhere deep inside. Why?

Nekohiko blinked out blearily, finding that he could move just enough of his dummy twin's body to see around. But as before, in Izumo, the body was immobile past his head -- even though he could still feel all of its body parts attached and whole. He was sitting on the grass, his back propped up against a wall, both his hands and feet stretched out before him like a lifeless mannequin's would.

It was dark in here, and stale...

Rare trickles of sunlight spilled over the dark confines of the small walled garden Nekohiko was in. Just enough to limn out a shape -- a familiar silhouette before Nekohiko's eyes.

A tree.

The Emerald Fir at the heart of the Palace! Jagged and rough and broken as Nekohiko had seen it last. And just as fetid, filling the air around with its foul, corrupted aura.

The stench it emanated wasn't physical, merely Spiritual -- but it still jarred Nekohiko and drew all of his attention to it at the expense of everything else.

Choked, he couldn't take his eyes off the gruesome shadow of the tree looming before him.

The proximity of his body to it, and his helplessness shot through him. He did not want to be so close to this forsaken tree stump when he couldn't move his body! Everything in him froze in horror at the idea.

Spirits, he felt cold sweat forming on his wooden surface and shivers raking through him. Something extremely wrong was with this tree. His body had to be as far as possible from it!

"Mmm?"

A low, whispery voice growled from somewhere beside Nekohiko.

If the sight of the Tree had rendered his mind paralyzed with fear, the sound of this voice jolted him out of it. He couldn't suppress a cringe, hearing it.

Hibiki.

"Welcome back, Emerald Fir," Hibiki told Nekohiko, half-amused, half-tired.

Even before Nekohiko could skew his eyes to the side to peek at him, Hibiki lurched forward, dropping on his fours before Nekohiko.

Aaaayyy, why did he always move with such abruptness and artificiality! Shuddering.

From the below-facing angle, Hibiki's dirty mop of seaweed-like hair covered his features almost entirely. In the gaps between the hair strands, though, the cadaverously-pale skin showed and the black, deadened eyes. Wide-open, staring at Nekohiko as though devouring his every change of expression.

Then, the hint of his lips creeping into his usual unabashed grin.

It took all of Nekohiko's will to maintain the lack of fear in his gaze.

Or the disgust that really wanted to surface from within him.

"I didn't believe you would come back here. But dear Morokata promised, and oooooh, he's always right, of course," Hibiki said, his eyes burrowing into Nekohiko's. "I wouldn't blame you for abandoning this body forever and never returning to it, though."

He leaned in, and a faint smell of something earthy, cold, and dank breathed in Nekohiko's face.

"Your body repulses me," Hibiki murmured. "So... so awful. Who was the moron who'd made it? That person needs his hands cut off for doing something so disgusting to a perfectly fine material."

Nekohiko tried to look past Hibiki to check if Morokata or anyone else was nearby. But no such luck. Hibiki was so close up, almost nothing else came through.

"Where is your master?" Nekohiko asked. "I prefer not to waste my time speaking to lapdogs--"

"I SAID who made this travesty?! This abhorrent excuse of a dummy doll?" Hibiki spat in Nekohiko's face, grabbing each of Nekohiko's wrists in his fingers and shaking them in the air. He closed in. "Tell me, dollie."

If he shifted a single inch more, the two of them would kiss, so Nekohiko panicked. His impassive facade cracked.

"I did, all right? Now tell me where the hell is Moro--"

But he didn't finish.

At Nekohiko's answer, Hibiki visibly calmed down.

"Ah, thought so," he breathed. "No true doll-maker would be as bad at his job. You almost gave me a heart attack knowing someone so talentless was making dolls around here. That said--"

And before Nekohiko could so much as blink, Hibiki rushed upward.

--!

Two devastating crackles ripped through the air.

Then, a searing slash of pain stabbed Nekohiko's upper body. Because Hibiki had never let Nekohiko's wrists out of his grip. And as he'd darted up, the strain on Nekohiko's wooden wrists couldn't hold.

Both his hands cracked and shattered at the elbow junctions, torn apart from his body.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaannhgg!" Nekohiko screamed in agony.

He shut his eyes which instantly heated up with tears. He wanted to thrash and pull his broken arms to his body to spare them more pain, but nothing in him moved.

Only his pained sobs shook through his body.

Hibiki watched him with a grim glee, the mutilated wooden stumps of Nekohiko's forearms held clumsily in his white fingers. Playfully, he threw one of them to the grassy ground, then lifted his free hand to his ear.

"Mmmm," he drawled, eyes rolling closed in pleasure. "I like that sound, Emerald Fir. You scream so much like a girl, it's amusing, knowing you paraded as a girl most of your life. I guess old habits die hard, pfff."

Nekohiko panted, biting his scream in. It wasn't even the pain that got him so hard. It was the destruction... to have one's arms pulled out like this was one of the most horrific experiences in the world.

To have someone enjoy that was even worse.

"I can't wait till I hear the sounds you make when somebody fucks you hard, dollie," Hibiki went on. "It must be like music, I bet."

With the leftover wooden hand, he pointed Nekohiko in the face. "But don't worry now. I won't touch this garbage of a body, no. I will wait till I get my hands back on the one I've personally made. I really liked that one. Too bad dear Morokata didn't allow me to touch it much back then... not so now. Now you really angered him, tsk tsk. Bad for you." He smiled widely again. "Great for me."

"Where is HE?! Where is Morokata?"

"You aren't very nice to me, are you? I waited and waited here for days till you deigned to come, and all I get from you is ignoring me?"

"Piss. off." Nekohiko flicked his eyes left and right, desperate for even a hint of Morokata's dusty-pale clothes.

Hibiki side-stepped to be within Nekohiko's view again. His boots over the grass shuffled softly, with a hidden menace of a person perfectly in control of both his movements and emotions.

But that was only a facade.

"Not even thank you?" Hibiki sounded graver, raspier. "I have no doubt that after what you've seen me do in my beautiful, innocent Palace you and your barbarian boyfriend ruined -- you have learned some sweet moves and lessons from me. Is that not so, Emerald Fir?"

Nekohiko stilled, wary.

"Yeah, yeah. I can see that you did." Hibiki lifted his fingers to his hair to brush it away from his face. Just enough to expose his eyes fully so that Nekohiko could see.

But it wasn't just the view of Hibiki's face that unsettled Nekohiko. It was the uncanny sound of ceramic on ceramic dragging against each other. Like two cups or bowls colliding. A cool, sharp clink when Hibiki's fingers touched his face.

And the bizarre whiteness of Hibiki's face was -- due to the porcelain surface his face was made of!

The full view of his features unnerved. Both human and doll-like, yet still unmistakably Hibiki. The only part of his doll face that could move was the lower half -- to allow his mouth to speak. And to smile creepily. But everything else was frozen in a sort of a death mask.

"Still looks better than your original face," Nekohiko told him. "You're welcome for me having kicked it into pulp the other da--"

Hibiki swung his boot aiming straight at Nekohiko's chin. Nekohiko's teeth clanged, meeting. A harsh taste of blood filled his mouth, and his head jerked back from the hit.

But it was worth it.

"Like this? You like kicking so much?" Hibiki rasped, slowly and methodically grinding his heel into Nekohiko's mouth.

Nekohiko choked and tried to turn away. But of course nothing happened.

The least he could do was flee.

Let Hibiki go nuts with this body. Holy hells, was that person deranged.

Nekohiko had kept his consciousness within that body for so long solely because he had wanted to gain some crucial information about Morokata's whereabouts or plans... But it seemed that talking with Hibiki would not garner any results.

With distaste, Nekohiko shifted his awareness out of the dummy twin and back to his main body. He was shaken all through and clammy with sweat just from the aftershocks of what had happened to him at Hibiki's hands.

Abihiko was right beside him, catching him in his embrace.

"You were gone for a while," he said, cautious with Nekohiko's rigid body. His touches were gentle and brief so as not to aggravate Nekohiko more.

But Nekohiko needed more from him.

In a grateful rush, he curled into Abihiko's chest, pressing himself closer. "Hibiki was there, torturing me."

Abihiko stiffened. Then slowly, he reciprocated the hug, and Nekohiko's soul filled with the warmth and the sense of security just from being held like that.

"Hibiki?" Abihiko whispered. "In Izumo?"

"Nuh-hm. In the Emerald Palace. He said something about... Morokata leaving him and me there to wait till I came back. But I don't know why there, in the Palace. And why in the secret garden with the--"

Abihiko's voice was hollow.

"--with the Spirit Tree stump inside?"

...

"How did you know?" Nekohiko propped himself up to peer in Abihiko's face. What he saw in there wasn't good news, though.

"Neko, you have to destroy that body. Now," Abihiko commanded, crushing Nekohiko's shoulders in his hands. "Cast a self-destructive spell on yourself and outsource all the damage to that body! Quick!"

"What--? No."

Nekohiko tried to shrug him off, but for all Abihiko's agreeableness and tenderness of the previous days, he was ridiculously demanding now.

He gave Nekohiko a harsh shake, his face twisting in a scary grimace of fury. "Nekohiko! Do as I say -- now!"

"Why?!" Nekohiko still struggled against him, but not so fervently. "You know I won't do it until you tell me why! I deserve to know--"

"Then I'll do it myself."

And Abihiko shoved Nekohiko down, his hands going for a very potent Utsuro spell.

Nekohiko's back dashed against the floor. Shock rendered him speechless -- that Abihiko would push him away like that, and that Abihiko was actually considering throwing a destructive spell at him right now!

Everything about Abihiko's behaviors of the recent days contradicted this. Abihiko was careful, gentle, endlessly patient with him. But now...

Now, he shifted back to the impulsive, malevolent, aggressive beast he'd always been.

Now, he looked as though he was fully prepared to hurt Nekohiko.

Nekohiko stilled on the ground, watching Abihiko's fiery gaze and the hard-cut expression -- as though mesmerized. But even though Abihiko's fingers shifted fluidly to progress his spell formation, Nekohiko didn't move.

He only stared.

Abihiko's fingers snapped above him, mere seconds away from the final signs, and--

Nothing.

Heaving, his brow furrowing and eyes blazing, Abihiko stared at him back. But his hands didn't go on with the spell.

"Neko-- are you there? Are you ready to outsource the damage to that body?" he said, menacing.

"I am here." Nekohiko paused, pondering the next words. "I will not outsource the pain and damage to that body, though."

The rage and helplessness on Abihiko's face were so profound, Nekohiko almost regretted his audacity. He just really wanted to know about that tree. And though Abihiko had refused to tell him the truth whenever he asked, Nekohiko still thought that now... when it was so crucial... that Abihiko would surrender.

That he would cave in.

Besides, the fact that, even so frustrated, Abihiko still stopped at the last moment in order not to hurt him...

It meant a lot to Nekohiko.

It was like a heavenly balm on his soul, here and now. Like being tenderly hugged with one's very Spirit.

"Because I deserve to know why. This relates to me so personally. I am made from that tree. I need to know why is it in such a state..."

Abihiko visibly shuddered from restraining his wrath. His nostrils flared and his eyes gained a reddened tinge to them, so hard it was for him to bear the onslaught of emotions from deep within.

"Nekohiko," he ground out. "Will you just fucking listen to me? And do as I say -- once in the goddamn life."

...

Nekohiko studied his anguish with an odd detachment. He knew Abihiko would explode if he did this. He knew. But he still couldn't help himself.

"I'll only be a moment," he told him and blanked out of this body.

And traveled back to the dummy twin.

 

 


***

 

Going back to Hibiki was such a bizarre experience. Who would ever want to go back to that?

Yet Nekohiko had to. Hibiki had been right when he said that Nekohiko learned a great many things from him. The pain and damage-aspect Splitting was merely one of those.

Learning what Hibiki was here for -- and why Morokata had put both the dummy twin body and Hibiki here for so long would make for an even better lesson.

Yet the pain...

Ugh. The terrible crackling and splitting within Nekohiko's wooden torso at being beaten so hard and for so long while he was gone... it put the learning into perspective.

The body still accepted Nekohiko in, even broken to this extent. Because Hibiki had made sure to not break away any parts of Nekohiko while he was gone from the body. Even if some parts had been crushed off, they were minuscule. Hibiki did not want the majority of Nekohiko to become dead matter.

He needed him here, alive. And conscious.

Or at least Morokata needed that. And thus, Hibiki had stopped the beating some time ago and was now fuming about it a few steps away, loitering beside the horrible wreck of the tree and kicking the grass tufts with his boot dejectedly.

"Nao... Nao!" he groaned. "My right arm fell off again from overexertion."

Bleary, Nekohiko squinted.

...quiet footsteps were nearing.

Nekohiko quelled his agitation over the pain his body was suffering from and perked his hearing up. Nao! Here? With Hibiki?!

Yet the way she moved and came over to Hibiki from within the shadows was so smooth and so oblique, Nekohiko had a hard time discerning her in the darkness. She wore dark clothes, too, and slinked around with the perfect grace of a finely-trained assassin. Only the smooth, white glaze of the porcelain arm she'd picked up from the ground gave out her whereabouts and then the fluid manner with which she reached out to Hibiki's flaccid sleeve with a stump inside it.

She helped him screw the shard-like stump of his arm back, and Hibiki only glared and grumbled at her as she did.

But she did not react at all.

As always -- deadly-professional, utterly quiet. So focused on the exact action she was doing at the moment. Almost mindless, like a dummy bred solely for one job and nothing beyond that. 

Nekohiko doubted that, of course. Nao was a human person. She had weaknesses and she had dreams and wants. She probably had soft spots for certain things or others.

But she chose to never show them.

Never. Not once, not even when -- years ago -- she had been a hairbreadth away from being killed by Nekohiko himself. She hadn't begged or cried or even urged him to go on. She had merely...

...stared at him, blankly, and without any emotion he could parse.

The same expression she had worn when murdering and abusing his royal retainers -- Hachiro, Kusaki, Saho. The same expression when she had sliced Yakabe's throat. The same expression she'd had when... Suminoe...

Aahh...

The face of a person so devoted and good at their craft, they took no pleasure in it, even. Just a job. Maybe even a routine. One in thousands of similar ones.

The existence of people like that scared Nekohiko far greater than dummies or passionate, impulsive killers. He could not understand people like her. Even now -- years after he'd suffered everything he could at her hands -- he found himself paralyzed with trepidation at her presence.

Right after Nao helped Hibiki screw his porcelain arm back to the elbow joint, she drew back to recede into the shadows. But Nekohiko could not let her.

His words erupted out of his mouth before he knew what they would be.

"How many people have you worked for?! Do you have no personal sides, no desires, no honor or shame? You worked for the Usurper, for the contrabandists, for Suminoe -- now for Morokata? Do you even have a side you can stay on or is it always the highest payer?"

Hibiki snapped his head toward Nekohiko, livening up from the previous boredom.

But it wasn't him Nekohiko was interested in. Only Nao. Only her dissipating silhouette amidst the thickening shadows.

Her figure loomed beside the tree for a few heartbeats more, then she stepped back again -- finally vanishing. And without any answer to Nekohiko's question.

Perhaps she didn't find it interesting to answer. Perhaps, as always, her presence was, indeed, nothing personal against him. Merely the question of price.

That somehow made it even worse.

"I was just a child! They hired you to murder a child. People like you are the crux of all evil in my Empire! Without you and the likes of you -- nobody would even have the access to murdering innocents! You and your trade--"

"Yes, yes, because the hand should really blame the knife for stabbing people," Hibiki said with a crushing sigh of aggravation. "It is obviously all the knife's fault."

"I am no hand," Nekohiko snarled.

Hibiki raised his index finger in the air as though highlighting a point. "Yet," he said. "Trust me, every single Emperor has used the services of the Dark Sisterhood sooner or later. Every. single. one."

Liar.

How dare you.

No reason to even talk to you about this. As if you know anything!

"I assume dear Morokata is too busy to hang out with you two in here, huh? Yet he still put out two of his most trusted minions to guard me, and here -- of all places. I wonder why," Nekohiko said.

He was still curious about Hibiki saying he was aware of Nekohiko learning his methods of escaping damage and pain. Hibiki had been so calm when he'd said that. As though it wasn't such a big deal for them to realize Nekohiko might want to replicate the skill.

Which only meant one thing:

Morokata and others had expected Nekohiko to try and destroy this body.

They must have known this body was a goner anyway. But why... not do something about it? Why not abuse it before Nekohiko gained the chance to get rid of it once and for all?

Unless this was it. This garden, this tree, this... mystery with Hibiki and Nao waiting for Nekohiko's mind to resurface within the body.

Why? Why?? What did this mean?

Could Nekohiko turn it around for himself?

"What's with that ugly tree?" Nekohiko threw at Hibiki, trying to sound as dismissive as possible. The young man was slowly strolling back toward him, an idle smugness in each of his movements.

And frankly, it intimidated Nekohiko quite a bit. Nao wasn't speaking to him, but so wasn't Hibiki.

The two minions were scarily quiet and sinister in their bearing, and Hibiki's exaggerated porcelain smile did not help at all.

"Ah that?" Hibiki didn't regard the Tree, only fixated on Nekohiko. "Now, let me teach you a proper lesson about it, Emerald Fir. Dear Morokata told me to give it to you whenever you deign to come... so here you go."

From the ground, he kicked up the previously torn hand of Nekohiko's and caught in his grip. Teasing, he propped it in his fingers.

"While you were gone, I had broken off other parts of it and it has become dead matter, I guess. Did it not?" And he flapped the limp forearm in the air, all the half-bent, half-twisted fingers on the palm swaying dramatically with motion.

Nekohiko cowered at the idea of his hand being treated so degradingly, like a garbage toy no one needed. But he still checked with the back of his mind to see if his consciousness could go back to that arm.

And no, it could not.

Dead matter, through and through.

Hibiki tilted his head, animalistically. His tone dropped to a more dangerous, darker one.

"Answer the question, Emerald Fir. Is it dead or no? If I fucking throw the real live part of you into that Tree, dear Morokata will flay me alive, you see." 

Throw into that Tree?

...

...please, no.

The broken hand creaked one more time as Hibiki waved it around. "Do not worry, Fir. Dear Morokata has given us explicit orders to not ruin your live parts. Nothing much will happen to you if we just poke some dead matter into that corruption fest over there." His porcelain mask of creepiness almost tore in half, so wide his grin became. "You'll only learn a lesson or two, nothing much."

"Why," Nekohiko squeezed out, tense, "why did Morokata want me to see this? Why would he not want to hurt me--?"

Hibiki bent in half, peering him in the face in his usual insect-like creepy manner.

He leered. "And that, my dear Emerald Fir, is none of your business."

With a wide swing, he flung the dead wooden arm into the rotting, split stump of the Spirit Tree. Yet the arm never landed -- even before it could, the thick, oozing darkness that spilled like milk out of the Tree's splits, consumed it.

It came to a halt with a velvety hiss as the corrupted aura gripped it tight and expanded through it.

Just like blackened veins on Abihiko's arms and legs, the corruption spread through the wooden arm. Only instantaneously, and so thoroughly, the arm blackened like coal and crumbled under its assault.

"...!"

Nekohiko wanted to whelp in horror but his voice was stuck in his mouth.

He could only gape, petrified, at the hungry, eager absorption of his arm into the darkness of the Tree.

Hibiki made a noise -- neither a snort nor a chuckle. His head tilted to one shoulder as he devoured Nekohiko's reaction. "Now, take a look at this," he said, and tossed a small statuette from some dark polished wood.

Definitely not something that had come from Nekohiko. Just a random wooden souvenir he'd picked up for the demonstration.

The souvenir flew an arc and bumped into the Spirit Tree's stump with a blunt thud.

Then it bounced off it and rolled to the grass.

And the Tree did not react to it at all. Like it didn't react to any of the plants, stones, pebbles that lay around it in the garden. The Tree could not "care" less about any of the objects, live or dead, that surrounded it. It only "cared" about... Nekohiko.

Nekohiko trembled when he realized that Hibiki was coming closer to him.

He now fully realized the horror and urgency of Abihiko's reaction to this. Why Abihiko was so scared of Nekohiko's wooden bodies being so close to this corrupted Tree!

Because it was a dire threat to him, and solely to him! If before, Nekohiko had felt guarded against coming closer to this Tree, then now... it downright terrified him.

"Do you have any idea what will happen if this Tree gets a hold of your live parts?" Hibiki asked him, gleeful. "With the speed with which it spreads and wants to consume you, do you think that its corruption will taint your very Spirit and thus ruin all your body parts, once and forever? Mmm?"

...

Exactly the fear Nekohiko had.

Exactly.

The corruption of the Tree wasn't solely physical. It was Spiritual as well, and if his Spirit came in close proximity to it...

He lurched, wanting to flee. Pure, blind fright burned through him, sending spasms and shock all across his bodies.

"Why--" he stammered. "Why me? Why only my bodies?"

"Well, that is because, you dumb Emerald Fir, you belong within it," Hibiki told him kindly like the most patient of teachers would. "You came from it. And this corruption that Tree is being eaten up by? It also belongs within you. Your moronic boyfriend may deny that and may even take most of that corruption into his own body to keep it away from you. And he may try to keep you away from this truth -- for as long as he thinks he can... But, sweet dollie."

...

Abihiko had taken in the corruption from that Tree?

To keep it from Nekohiko?

Why-- how--

Hibiki squatted before him, rigid in his porcelain-body movements. "Tell me fucking 'thank you, Teacher Hibiki'. The number of things I teach you, ah... Along with that damage and pain redistribution we both know you would want to do. Right about now."

...

Why right now?

With a sickened wince, Nekohiko realized Hibiki wanted to rip out more body parts of him. Hibiki leaned over, grabbing hold of Nekohiko's ankles and starting to twist them off.

Pain shot through him, but it still couldn't drown out the methodical, dry words Hibiki was telling him as he ripped his feet, then his ankles, then his knees off...

The words hurt far more, in comparison.

"Off you go, and back into that Tree, dollie. Where you belong," Hibiki said with a smirk. "First this body, then every other last part of you. Every single fucking piece. We will find them. And we will toss them into that goddamn tree, you know that, right? Maybe we'll leave one tiny piece just to make sure you stay there for all eternity and cannot die. Maybe, I don't know. We'll see."

Horror clawed at Nekohiko and a scream wanted to erupt from his lips. But he held it off. Solely not to scream in front of Hibiki.

...!

He shot back into his normal body, hard and fast like an arrow.

He shivered with the barely-suppressed fury. His fists curled in and his teeth ground against each other.

He sat up, casting a pained glance at Abihiko nearby.

As patient as ever, Abihiko regarded him back. Even though, underneath it all, Abihiko looked very much frustrated as well.

"Destroy me," Nekohiko spat at him. "Now. I am ready to redirect it all to that other body!"

"Took you long enough to realize," Abihiko said coldly, but did as told.

At least one of them did.

 

 


***

 

Though they ended up destroying that body by redirection of the terrible Utsuro Splitting spell -- the night was nowhere near calm or relieved after that.

Nekohiko had made sure the last parts of the dummy twin had been shattered by the redirecting spell and that no live splinter of him remained in Hibiki's hands. But somehow, the success seemed hollow.

The rest didn't come. The agreement or sweetness after having achieved something so complicated also didn't. For all it took, Abihiko didn't even talk back to Nekohiko after their spell succeeded.

He simply went to bed and didn't care to look at Nekohiko ever since.

Even though Nekohiko wanted to talk and attempted to, several times.

Abihiko, is this true? That you have taken some of the corruption from that Tree?

How? Why? Can you tell me?

I am sorry about not destroying the body sooner... But both Hibiki and Nao were there... I just couldn't let the chance to witness them go to waste...

Abihiko...

Come on!

Nothing worked.

Abihiko was deeply, genuinely angry with him tonight. And at the back of his mind, Nekohiko understood why. Already, the snippets of truth from Hibiki made him... squirm in discomfort more than he'd ever known.

Hibiki had said Nekohiko belonged within the corruption that ate at the Tree. Belonged -- how? Because that's where Hibiki would want to see him or because... the corruption was somehow inherent to Nekohiko and his Spirit?

Hibiki had said that Abihiko had sacrificed a lot to put Nekohiko out of the corrupted Binding's way. And yes, one could see the marks the corruption had left on Abihiko's body.

But was it truly irreversible? Why was Abihiko so reluctant to speak about this?

And why -- about the Tree?

Had Morokata not lied when he'd told Nekohiko that the full truth would destroy him and Abihiko both?

Was... Abihiko right by keeping the truth away from him?

...

Gods, this pained him so much.

He went on with his shy attempts to lure Abihiko back into talking to him all through the next day.

And the one after that.

Yet all of it was in vain. Because when, early the next day he and Abihiko had left Ise and went east on their hired new horse to get to Nagare as soon as possible -- Abihiko didn't speak. He didn't smile. He didn't even seem like he listened or paid attention to anything Nekohiko said, either.

The two days they had taken to journey away from Ise's reaches and deep into the Hira and Nagare kingdoms went by in tense silence and mutual aggravation.

...

A drastic, painful change. After the beautiful, tranquil stay in Ise -- this. A business-like, impersonal ride through the countryside and the rare inns and taverns they encountered. They even slept a few inches apart. Not a hint of warmth or playfulness between them, whatsoever.

Gone.

Like a dream.

And all of it, Nekohiko suspected, was his fault even though the dumb countryside they rode through really didn't help, too.

Because the further they rode from Ise and the pilgrimage roads leading to it, the more Nekohiko started recognizing the subtle signs of the displaced and anguished Empire.

The stretch of the land between Nara and Ise had been so much different from the rest of the Empire. The Spirits further away from the Spiritual centers were just as Nekohiko had remembered them when he and the Abi siblings traveled from the north in a millipede Line.

Turmoiled, lost. Angry. More and more the villages along the roads Nekohiko and Abihiko were going through seemed affected by the Spirits' displeasure. Nothing so harsh as diseases or wilting crops, yet. But the atmosphere of a foreboding, or something depressing and insidious taking place...

And due to the tensions between the Towa, Hira, and Nagare Kingdoms in the recent weeks -- it was not a great surprise for them to meet their first Savage Spirit the moment their horse stepped a hoof across the Nagare Kingdom border.

It was an overcast day, but quiet.

Except for the colossal hulk of a Marsh Fire Spirit rising over the horizon. The dark cloud of its smoke blackened the skies far away and drew their eyes to it in a flash.

And though the Savage Spirit wasn't on their route -- but a bit to the side -- Abihiko still stopped their horse. And both he and Nekohiko still looked toward the Spirit's menacing silhouette roaring over the horizon. They looked and their hands twitched in unison, again. As though unable to quell their Spirit Wayfarer reflexes to not want to pacify it.

To not want to deal with it.

"Are there any villages or towns around that area?" Nekohiko asked, doubtful.

He didn't expect Abihiko to respond. Abihiko had been ignoring him for two days already, so Nekohiko didn't have any high hopes. He was asking himself, mostly, debating whether or not he should get involved in something that wasn't on his list of immediate priorities.

Because... the Spirit was obviously hurting.

And so would anyone who would encounter that Spirit on its destructive path. How could he, the Emperor, not want to interfere? How could he, the Spirit Wayfarer, not want to... help?

"Mn," Abihiko answered all of a sudden.

Nekohiko turned around to peek at him, so surprised he was by Abihiko finally talking to him again.

He only saw Abihiko's flinty-eyed look at the horizon, but it was more than enough for him now. At least Abihiko was responding. At least Abihiko was... exactly on the same page as him, for a change.

"Then, what the hell are you waiting for?" Nekohiko grumbled, pointing at their still horse. "Go, before this stupid Spirit demolishes a part of our Empire, damn it."

"..."

This time, Abihiko's silence bore a noticeably different mood to it.

Less angry and more annoyed.

Which was definitely an improvement. And one that instantly filled Nekohiko with joy. Especially after Abihiko spurred their horse toward the hulking Spirit in the distance and grumbled under his nose,

"Sure-sure, Your Majesty."

 

Don't worry -- the detour is resolved quickly (they come to Nagare in the next chappie regardless of the small fight) and is just there to remind them that they are, both, at heart, Spirit Wayfarers.

Not schemers and political intrigue players.

Because -- let's be very honest about these two. Neither of them is very good at scheming anyway, lol. But fighting monsters together?

Yes, please!! ^^

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