Chapter Hundred Forty-Two — Baby Doll
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Chapter Hundred Forty-Two

Baby Doll

 

 

"Hibiki? Hibiki, what's wrong?"

Kataji's voice came through Nekohiko's hearing from far away. Nekohiko allowed himself to ease down after the intense carnage he and Abihiko had caused in the Imperial bedchamber. He was now sitting on the bed to gather his thoughts and check his surroundings.

Abihiko was busy assessing the First-rate blocking spell he had copied from Hibiki and what its limitations were. The room was still under the spell, just to make sure Hibiki would not abuse the brief moment of them lifting the spell too soon. Abihiko was not having it. Nothing could escape this room for as long as he deemed it wise to keep this way -- except for Nekohiko's mind.

The spell was intriguing, and Abihiko wanted to explore what they could do with it. So he adjusted its flow of energy to let Nekohiko in and out. Just to see how hard it would be to do so. And now--

From the ladybug on Aomi's collar, Nekohiko heard someone's voice. So worried and tender and almost frightened...

It was Kataji.

In the way that Nekohiko had never heard Kataji speak of Hibiki.

True, Kataji was a nervous young man and had frequently shown high emotion and genuine worry about others. But for Hibiki? Nah. Kataji respected Hibiki's talents and his inventions, but not Hibiki himself. Now, he sounded so concerned about him that Nekohiko's curiosity was piqued.

Seriously?

Kataji was that anguished about anything that happened to Hibiki? How so?

And also -- how would Kataji know, of all people?

Nekohiko's mind flashed to the ladybug -- to peek. And as soon as he emerged in his tiny body there, he was once again astounded by the splendor and luminous environment of the lounging tea-room in Okinaga's mansion where Kataji was meeting Aomi.

The two Abi siblings sat in a room so exquisitely furnished, Nekohiko almost couldn't believe it had been Hira Okinaga's home just a day ago. Who had taken all this time to redesign the place? It looked just as ostentatious as the Imperial chambers!

But why?

"Kata?" Aomi sounded perplexed, too. The girl was sitting beside Kataji on the lounging floor couch, holding with both her hands a steaming cup of tea, half-empty.

She tilted her head, peering at her brother as though dying to see his exact expression. 

"Kata -- you sound weird. What happened?"

"Weird?" Kataji flinched for a moment. A trace of awkwardness came through his posture. "No, it's nothing. Just... thinking of something."

"Ehh? You suddenly cried out the name of that Doll Creep Morokata likes so much. Then you started yelling at that tiny doll in your hand, asking it if it was all right," Aomi said, sounding more and more baffled. "That doesn't sound like nothing."

...

Nekohiko focused his sight on Kataji, too -- just to see what the hell Aomi meant. And why she was talking to Kataji as if he were an idiot.

He looked like one, a little. Something not quite familiar was in his gaze. A hunted, agitated shock. And any lack of interest in what was going on right beside him. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

With Hibiki, it seemed.

Nekohiko studied Kataji's face in a whole new way. There was something alien in his expression even though Kataji still was as himself as always. But this particular shade of worry on his face was as though belonging to somebody else.

Whenever the young man was worried, his anxiety was unrestrained and obvious. Lips bitten, eyes flashing, nostrils flaring. Yet now, it was so well-composed, Nekohiko felt estranged.

Was it the fact that Kataji was wearing the Hira colors? Nekohiko had never seen Kataji in black and red of this burnished hue. Perhaps, that cast a whole new look to him?

But his appearance was the last of Nekohiko's concerns. The fact that Kataji was holding in his hands a tiny figurine of a porcelain doll -- was a bigger one.

It was a very bizarre doll. One of those souvenir ones anybody could get at a tourist shop in Nara, but with elements added that somehow made it uncanny. A little child's body with a huge head and wide-staring, googly eyes under the princess-style haircut. The usual. And yet, the creepy smile plastered on the doll's porcelain face...

Even if Kataji hadn't referred to this dolly as "Hibiki", Nekohiko would be able to guess.

This freaky doll "screamed" Hibiki with everything in its visage.

"Hibiki?" Kataji's lips moved once more as he shook the doll slightly as though trying to call its attention to himself. "Hibiki..."

He wanted to stand up.

"I need to go," Kataji said, dismayed.

"Eh?!" Aomi put down her cup and reached out to grab his clothes. "But we only began! Kata, we haven't even talked that much! I worry about you and Abihiko! Can we please--"

Kataji gulped. A slight shiver passed through him as he hesitated. It was clear he wanted to run, but something stopped him.

The figurine of Hibiki was squeezed tightly in his fingers -- so hard he might just crush it. The subtle turmoil on his face was such a pain to watch, Nekohiko wanted to avert his eyes. But couldn't.

He stared, mesmerized, unable to recognize Kataji at all.

Hibiki's figurine? In Kataji's hands? Why?

If Nekohiko's guesses were correct, Hibiki had made several tiny figurines of himself and given them to Morokata and... perhaps, to Kataji as well. To communicate -- the way Nekohiko did with his small bodies like the seashell and the ladybug. So when Hibiki's mind had been gone from his main body in the Palace for brief periods of time, calling Morokata for help before it had been too late and he had become trapped by Abihiko's spell -- this was where his mind had gone off to.

To these kinds of small figurines.

Nekohiko could comprehend the presence of such a dolly in Morokata's hands. But in Kataji's?

What? Why?? How would Kataji help Hibiki, or why would he even care about anything going wrong with Hibiki?

Slowly, but Kataji took his emotions under control. He gave Aomi a warm glance and sank back into his chair, smiling to himself guiltily.

"Oh, I am sorry, sweet sister. You are right. We haven't talked yet at all. What kind of an Emperor am I, abandoning my guest like this to do my other things?"

There was so much poise in his attitude, Nekohiko would applaud him. At last, he had learned how to control himself.

But at the same time, worry lodged in Nekohiko's heart.

Why did it all feel so wrong?

"I am here fully," Kataji went on, his eyes crinkling up in crescents. His gaze caressed Aomi's face with a new kind of tenderness, then trailed off to her half-drunk cup on the table. "Let me refill it. More tea, more talking."

"I guess..." Aomi also seemed unnerved by Kataji's smooth change of behavior. But she did not bring it up. Instead, she tried to be more thoughtful of his obvious anguish. "Is everything all right? Kata, you seemed so anxious just now. Did something bad happen to that creepy Dollmaker?"

"Oh. Well, yes. But that is not something that concerns me, really. It's Morokata's problem, not mine." Elegantly, Kataji reclined in his chair. The teacups were refilled, and he nodded Aomi to take hers back. "Rather, I want to talk to you, Aomi. You are far more important to me than Hibiki. Trust me. If at first I was only slightly amused by you coming to visit me -- now I think differently."

His smile deepened.

"You are the best thing that happened to me today," he told her, heartful. "Thank you for coming here. You and I are going to have the best time of our lives, won't we?"

...

"All right?" The little girl shrugged uncomfortably. But she did get her cup and began drinking it greedily, in prolonged silence -- as though trying to chase the awkwardness of the situation with it.

"Tell me, did someone else ask you to visit me here today? At this specific hour?" Kataji asked her sweetly.

"No? I just wanted to see you or Abihiko. But I cannot get to him at all, so I came to you. I... miss you," Aomi whispered. "I miss him. I don't really know what's going on -- between you two especially. And with the rest of the city. It's such madness out there, Kata."

"Mn, mn. Understandable. Go on."

Nekohiko wanted to listen to more of their bizarre conversation, but he had no time for it.

It looked quite painful anyway, and with both siblings so uncomfortable with each other -- doubly so. Besides, Kataji was not talking about Hibiki or Morokata anymore, so Nekohiko did not need to hang around.

The sole reason he had come here was because he'd needed to hear if Morokata was still in Okinaga's mansion or not. Besides, Abihiko was calling him back.

...

"What did you find out?" Abihiko asked him once Nekohiko resurfaced inside his human doll body.

Coming back to it after being so afraid to do it while it had been under Morokata's control -- was a feat. Nekohiko's heart sped up just imagining that the Master Order was still intact and inside him.

Ahh, the horror of it.

The constant danger waiting for him in his very own body! No one should ever experience that. But no more.

It was safe in here, once again.

He suppressed a shudder of revulsion that was only exacerbated by all the blood that covered him. Then he gave Abihiko a rigid nod. "Hibiki definitely communicated with Morokata through a small doll of his. So Morokata must be on his way here right this moment."

Abihiko already expected that, but Nekohiko's words still made him halt.

"Small doll? How small?" he asked, suspicious.

Nekohiko understood why.

The size of Hibiki's doll he had seen was so tiny, that it would be a mistake not to think he would have dozens if not hundreds of such small dolls. Everywhere. Just to have a network of them wherever he needed.

Including in this very room.

Nekohiko held to fingers up to his face. "This kind of small." He cast a glance around the room and all its dark, cluttered corners. "I can bet there are some like that here, too."

"We need to burn this whole room down," Abihiko agreed, grave. "If even a trace of him is alive and hidden somewhere here... He will escape the moment we lift the restricting spell."

Yeah.

They had to make sure.

But before that, Abihiko still had some quick things to take care of. He rushed to the side of the room where the enormous bronze vault door was, half-open. From inside it, no more light came, but Nekohiko remembered this vault clearly even without the golden glow emanating from it.

The vault where Abihiko kept his most important things and trinkets. Including the potted Fir plant that was now in Old Ema's house at the edge of Nara -- and some other souvenirs Abihiko considered dear to him.

The first time Nekohiko had seen this vault, he had been half-terrified of the connotations.

Ha-ha, Abihiko had referred to something in that vault by Nekohiko's name. What could be freakier than that? Luckily, it was merely a small plant in a pot.

Nekohiko couldn't help but gaze at Abihiko tenderly, remembering all those days of endless confusion on his part -- days that seemed so far away now.

"If we are burning everything here down, first, let's get this out of here," Abihiko told him from the vault.

"Mn."

Probably some garbage trinket he didn't want to burn. Nekohiko did not mind that. Abihiko had suffered enough. Let him keep something he needed.

Instead, Nekohiko was busy pulling off himself the bloodied and torn robes of gentle lavender that Morokata had given him. He hated these clothes with passion. Everything that Morokata had touched and gifted to him while keeping Nekohiko under his control.

"Burn down these clothes, too," Nekohiko said. "I don't care if I have to walk around naked--"

"You won't have to."

From the vault's threshold, Abihiko's voice almost sounded smug. It made Nekohiko snap his focus there, awash with amusement.

Because, smiling, Abihiko held up in this hands --

-- the clothes Nekohiko had never thought he'd see again.

...

The purple uniform robes of the Sixth year of Izumo School!

Nekohiko's very own clothes, from five years ago.

Oh wait, Nekohiko thought, aghast.

"Uh. Are these the clothes I have died in?!" He gaped, unable to believe in Abihiko's audacity. "You kept them?? For five years? In your vault?"

...

You freak.

"I kept spatters of your blood for five years, and your body, too. I am unsure why you would think that me keeping your clothes is freaky, in comparison."

And he said it with such matter-of-factness that Nekohiko did not dare argue.

"They are clean, don't worry." Abihiko snapped the purple robes as though displaying their gorgeously rich color, then dangled a second set in his hands, too. This one was crimson. "I have my old uniform, too. Albeit I think mine won't fit me anymore. The length will be shorter."

"Still better than the tatters in which Hibiki had you," Nekohiko noted.

"True."

He felt beautifully serene for such a high tension moment. Morokata was coming for the two of them, and they were talking about clothes?

He smiled at this idea as he reached for the robes to change into. As he was undressing, the acceptance of the way his doll body looked now finally reached him.

It was unmistakably a doll body. Nothing human covering it up anymore. Anyone looking at it would see a rickety mannequin, with the face of a wooden skull framework on top of which all the muscles and fat and skin should go. But none of that was there now.

A horrific image, really. Yet, for the first time, true to its design.

Was it such a bad thing?

"I also have this." Abihiko strung his loyal Maple Apple over his shoulder, then held up a new souvenir from the vault once he put on his own clean and searingly-red robes to cover up the scarred spell array Hibiki had carved on him. Traces of the spell still showed on his neck and the back of his hands, but most of it was hidden now.

But Nekohiko noticed that only vaguely. Most of his attention went to the...

"Wooden picture?" He tilted his head, unsure why Abihiko wanted to show it to him.

Abihiko smiled. On his worn-out, tortured face, the smile looked so fragile now. Which only made it all the more precious.

"It's a landscape picture Kataji has made me, months ago. The one that came in the same package as the seashell Aomi made. See?" He held the picture up, taking a sniff of it. "It's Emerald Fir, too. It is the same exact body as yours, only dead wood. But I know you can revive dead parts of yourself, so--"

Ah!

"Thank you!!" Nekohiko crushed him in a hug, pulling both Abihiko and the stupid picture to himself. "I had to destroy my leg to trick Hibiki -- and without the cat, I am out of bodies to channel any more damage to! Every new piece of my body is crucial to me!"

Pleased, Abihiko narrowed his eyes. "I know. I also know one other body you can connect with and redirect the damage into." Like a little boy, happy to have come up with some genius mischief, he leaned in to get a rewarding peck from Nekohiko. "The potted Fir plant. Neko, we will get you back in shape in no time. Trust me."

...oh Spirits! Yes, of course!

"What would I do without you?" Nekohiko put his forehead against Abihiko's. For a few heartbeats, they just stood against each other, preparing for the maddest dash they could think of.

They had to burn this room to make sure nothing of Hibiki remained alive. It wasn't a rushing matter since the only things Hibiki would have left were the tiniest of his own dolls -- nothing that could pose any real threat to Nekohiko or Abihiko. Then they had to get ready for Morokata waiting for them somewhere out in the city. Maybe even within the Palace itself.

And all the Great Lords hunting them, too...

A few moments of calm wasn't that much to ask for, right?

Just the two of them, drinking in each other's presence and strength.

"I thought I would lose you--" Nekohiko began saying.

"I thought I lost you," Abihiko said at the exact same time.

...

To that, Nekohiko could only shake his head.

"No," he murmured. "Never."

...

Such a beautiful moment of serenity.

But just when he felt his joy and relief could not be greater -- a stark, cruel pain stabbed him.

Not anywhere important. Only in his ankle. Right under their feet as though a threat neither of them could have ever foreseen.

And as Nekohiko flicked his gaze down below to see what caused him so much pain, he saw...

The petrifying sight of the Corrupted energy -- black and fetid and rotten -- like the aura that brimmed around the Emerald Tree stump in the heart of the Palace.

Lodging right into his own wooden grain.

...

He had been wrong just now. Thinking that the only remnants of Hibiki in this room would be tiny dolls of him, and thus -- harmless. Because even in the hands of a harmless, frail porcelain dolly sneaking around under their feet, the splinter from the Corrupted Emerald Fir tree was still a death threat to Nekohiko.

Even a single splinter.

Which the minuscule doll figurine of Hibiki held right in its hand. Stabbing Nekohiko with it -- and infecting his wood with the Corruption in a flash.

 

 


***

 

"If you cannot be mine, you cannot be at all!!" Hibiki screamed at Nekohiko from down below.

What a damned cockroach.

Even reduced to nothing and defeated, he was such a vile, vindictive wretch!

Nekohiko didn't have time to think of what he was doing. He had seen how swiftly the Spiritual Corruption could eat away at his wood if the Corruption came from the Spirit Tree!

It would devour him. It would not leave any part of him unscathed.

No time for thinking.

His reflexes overtook him before he even processed the thought. His hands snapped toward his foot, trying to Bind the toxic, fumid splinter away from himself. Just to fling it aside so that it wouldn't infect him. But--

Like a fire fed with more fuel, the moment his Binding magic touched the splinter's surface, the black cloud of ugly Corrupted aura flared up.

And exploded.

...!

"NEKO, NO!"

Nekohiko didn't even see what was happening. But when the sear of pain Split his leg apart -- he felt it all. 

He'd become so numb to pain through the fight with Hibiki that he thought he wouldn't feel anything new. But he did.

It was hell.

With a few rough moves, Abihiko slashed through Nekohiko's infected leg -- and repulsed Nekohiko away and across the room to keep him away from the area where the Corrupted Tree matter was.

Abihiko was just as fast as always -- and merciless in his cold reasoning. As soon as he saw Nekohiko's wood being infected with the Corrupted energy, he slashed that part of Nekohiko off. But without bothering to check how much he was sacrificing, he seemed to have Split...

...how much of Nekohiko's body?

"AAAMmmnnnnn!" Nekohiko wailed, rolling to a halt at the corner of the room where Abihiko's magic had shoved him. Something cracked in his bones at the impact, and the abominable taste of blood filled his mouth.

He smashed his fist into the floor to make himself accept the pain and move past it, but...

Spirits, it just hurt so badly! And the feeling of being much, much lighter than before was even worse.

Madly, Nekohiko cast a blurred-eyed look down his body only to see... damn it. His second leg -- gone, too?! Abihiko had Split his second leg solely to protect the rest of Nekohiko from being Corrupted?

It all had happened in bare split seconds, leaving Nekohiko in dazed shock at the discovery. Even just a small particle of the Corrupted Emerald Fir tree could inflict so much harm on him? And secondly -- if he cast magic to protect himself against it -- that only worsened his odds because the Corruption of the Tree was drawn to his very Binding, too?

...

"ARGH, hells!" Nekohiko growled in agony and frustration.

Through tears, he looked at Abihiko in the center of the room and the small area before him where the Corrupted cloud of black aura still fumed like a pile of smoking ashes. In that pile, was Nekohiko's severed foot -- up to the thigh.

Abihiko had really chosen to be on the safe side and had taken much more of Nekohiko that had become infected.

And Nekohiko was grateful. He really was.

But at the same time...

"My body," he sobbed, shaken. "Abihiko -- what's going on? I--"

...I keep losing parts of my body.

I keep being destroyed, over and over again.

Abihiko had never looked darker and stormier. He gazed at the floor with the miasma of Corruption, unable to take his eyes away.

His face was pale with terror.

"Neko. The only reason Morokata and Hibiki had made you this body as powerful as it is -- was because of the Master Order," Abihiko said hollowly. He trailed his eyes over to Nekohiko. In the haze of the black aura rising between them, his face seemed deadened. "They had always planned to overtake your body and control of you. But now that Morokata knows he cannot control you, he is going to destroy you."

...

"With every single splinter and particle of the Spirit Tree. That has been their backup plan all along. If they cannot take the hold of you, they have all the means to end you. Once and for all."

...

Well, shit.

Abihiko was the first to unfreeze. From under his boot, the crystalline crackle of the porcelain figurine came as he crushed the small dolly of Hibiki's. Then he stepped over the fetid cloud of Corrupted energy and went to Nekohiko. His expression was pained at seeing Nekohiko crouching on the floor, incapable of raising himself with now both his legs destroyed. One was makeshift and not as good at supporting him, and the other... he didn't even have the other.

Nekohiko trembled, trying to fight down his urges and not break down in tears.

"I'm here," Abihiko promised him. He drew Nekohiko into a hug, then propped him up against himself, holding so tight, Nekohiko's ribcage hurt.

"I will make you new legs. I will protect you from Morokata. Don't you worry."

"..."

Nekohiko only nodded silently, burying his face in Abihiko's shoulder and clinging to him with dear life.

"But first--" Abihiko dawdled just a tiny bit more, adjusting the protective qualities of his next spell.

It was an immolation spell. One he excelled so much in.

Anything that had ever displeased him had earned this spell from him. Utter destruction and obliteration in one area -- of infernal incineration of everything around Abihiko. Like a burning heart he was.

Abihiko only protected two types of things in this entire forsaken room.

Himself and Nekohiko. And the clothes on their backs.

"Do it!" Nekohiko ground out. "Kill him. Kill even the last bits of him!"

Please.

The room went up in flames. Several seconds of the most intense heat waves that even set the air on fire, so fierce it was.

Three waves of immolation pulsed from Abihiko outward, each bringing its own tide of hell.

Nekohiko reveled in it. If he could, he would help Abihiko cast it, too -- but he was too afraid to interact with the Corrupted energy in the room again and let it out of their control. But gods, if his hatred alone could burn things down...!

He clutched Abihiko harder, brimming with the euphoria of fire and destruction.

...

Only after the two of them turned around to see the room grey and white in the crumbling ash that had burned even the emerald and gold bed into char and melted the walls and the ceiling -- did they feel safe enough to finally release each other. Embers and flakes of ash swirled eerily in the air, showing a picture of desolation in the room with not a single thing alive in here apart from the two of them.

Not even a cockroach would have survived this.

Definitely not Hibiki.

 

 


***

 

"Are you holding on?"

Abihiko had helped him get new legs from the broken furniture in the adjacent halls once they chose to exit the immolated bedroom. Abihiko's spell of trapping the First-rate Aspects had faded, and nothing restricted their passing.

That said, they would not be safe outside the bedroom. Even with the Marital seclusion array working. Because out of all the people in the world that this array let in... Morokata had to be one of them.

The new makeshift leg was even worse than the previous one, or at least worked much worse. Nekohiko could no longer support his weight and balance on at least one of his original feet, and now -- on two crutches that these new legs were, he felt swaying, uncertain. Toppling almost after every other move.

He was miserable, giving Abihiko his most pleading stares.

"I swear I can fight," he told him, to Abihiko's dismay. "I won't be a burden in a battle. You won't have to babysit me."

...

But deep inside, he was a tiny bit afraid he would be.

Look at him and his disbalanced, rickety stance. He could hardly turn around without tripping. How would be battle against one of the most powerful Binders in the Empire? Morokata was not a joke.

Unlike Hibiki, Morokata was actually a capable fighter.

Even though they had defeated Hibiki, and Nekohiko believed it had been worth it -- he still regretted not being more careful with his bodies. Out of all of them, he only had a few small ones. Nothing he could scavenge two new legs from. And nothing he could redirect damage and pain to.

This was it.

The last working body he had, and one already so weakened in its physical capabilities.

Abihiko had to carry him on his back, helping Nekohiko to clasp both his arms and his new, unfeeling legs around his torso for a better hold. Only then they could run.

Yes, run.

They could not stay here and engage with Morokata in a direct fight. Not like this. Not when Nekohiko was reeling after the intense fight with Hibiki and when Abihiko was... 

Seriously, how was Abihiko doing, anyway?

"You should limit your magic use," Nekohiko said in his ear as he clung to his back through their escape.

Abihiko dashed out of the broken garden wall separating their Marital seclusion area from the rest of the destroyed Palace. For a moment, the sight of the Palace ruins displaced Abihiko so much he paused, unsure where to go.

There was nothing here that he could recognize.

The entire landscape had turned into a maze of rubble and wreckage and the haze of marble dust settling thick over the remnants of the once-grand place. Lost, Abihiko cast his gaze around, then darted up the fallen columns to where he decided he needed to go.

Where was it?

"Are you even listening?" Nekohiko groused, annoyed. Abihiko used another Nagare burst to help propel the two of them up the ruins -- and Nekohiko was not enthusiastic about it. "You have nearly died from Binder's exhaustion yesterday! Your body is too Corrupted. You can not cast! Come on!"

Stop being so stubborn.

"We will use your Binding when he truly need to. This is just a little burst of movement," Abihiko dismissed him. "Nothing too serious."

"It's serious to me! Even such a small use can stack up and cause you to endanger your life again. And I--"

--cannot allow that.

Abihiko did not respond. But as he landed hard on the ground of the central inner garden of the Palace, Nekohiko shut up by himself.

There were far more pending issues, at the moment.

Abihiko had taken them directly to the stump of the Corrupted Spirit Tree. It was guarded and hidden, but not from Abihiko.

The few Imperial bodyguards and dummies who kept vigil next to it stood motionlessly, watching the two newcomers with the most stricken expressions.

Nekohiko unglued himself from Abihiko's back and stepped on the ground. But he still held on tight to Abihiko's arm like a child afraid of letting his father out of his reach. Abihiko did not mind. His fingers twined easily with Nekohiko's, giving him a tug as though letting him know nothing bad was going to happen to them.

They were together, after all.

"The Emperor?" One of the bodyguards recoiled, only now realizing whom he was seeing before him as he laid his eyes on Abihiko. But he recalled his mistake shortly. "The... Previous Emperor..."

"Lord Abihiko, you are an official criminal and have to remain under arrest at all times," the other bodyguard began saying, his voice trembling.

All the guards around the Tree stump assumed offensive positions, even though their reactions were clearly hesitant. Knowing they would have no chance to fight even if they dared to.

But they weren't brave enough to even dare.

Nekohiko's hideous doll face only deepened the fear and confusion these people felt. Abihiko's utter indifference toward them -- even more so.

Abihiko turned to Nekohiko, ignoring the guards as though they weren't even there. "I need to immolate this tree stump, too. I should have done that long ago. But before you came back to me, I was too unsure if me destroying this live part of the tree -- with the roots and the core -- would cause you to die as well. So I didn't want to touch it. But now..."

Nekohiko's skeletal wooden fingers squeezed Abihiko's painfully. He bit down an urge to gag, so hard the proximity to the ruined tree was for him. The Corruption, the stench of its foul aura...

And to think of it, this Corruption could always infect his current body. Abihiko was right. They had to get rid of it, too.

"You promised you won't use your magic on such powerful spells," Nekohiko still reminded Abihiko through his budding nausea.

"I won't. I can use your Binding instead. Remember how we did it in the first years in Izumo? I gave you my Binding, and you cast the spells. We can do that now -- only in reverse." Abihiko smiled, charming even in such a grim moment as this. "A compromise."

...

Actually, this wasn't such a bad idea. But Nekohiko didn't want to give in too easily, especially in front of other people. Though the Imperial bodyguards were scattering from them as they spoke, it seemed?

What were they so scared of?

Abihiko realized Nekohiko's confusion. He smirked, cocking his head to peer at Nekohiko playfully. "It's your skull-like face, Neko. You look... quite terrifying, just so you know."

Oh.

Well, good. At least now everyone will stop underestimating me.

"Ready when you are," Nekohiko said, then amassed a spell -- a very potent one. A mix of Nagare, Towa, and Utsuro -- like a pure ball of energy that still wasn't forming into any specific shape or form.

Then he passed it over to Abihiko.

Just as Abihiko said.

Their childhood maneuver. Only in reverse.

The blast that burned down the ugly remnant of the Spirit Tree in the center of the Palace was so powerful, a column of fire erupted into the sky, lighting the ruins of emerald in hellish colors for a few brief moments. The shimmer and the malevolent hues were all Nekohiko could see even after shutting his eyes to protect them from searing.

And before they could appreciate the result of their combined efforts, Abihiko grabbed him in his embrace once again and shot up into the air. Fleeing the explosion and anyone who would want to come there and examine it.

Kasuga, Okinaga, Morokata... whoever would be attracted to such a loud display of powers.

Nekohiko let him do what he wanted.

He trusted his instincts. If Abihiko had a plan where to go to -- then so be it. They would go there. All Nekohiko had to do, really, was to hold on and never let go.

Oh, and to complain about Abihiko abusing his powers, over and over. Because as they escaped the Palace, Abihiko just couldn't stop flinging his stupid speed-enhancing spells left and right.

"Please take some of mine," Nekohiko snapped at him. "Let us do the maneuver again! Steal my Binding -- and don't use yours anymore!"

"Neko, it's just floating platforms of air to help us run faster across the city!" Abihiko growled back, also getting quite frustrated. "It's not that much. I can survive this just fine."

"I don't care! Use my powers, or I will use them myself and expose our location to whoever is looking for us--"

"Grrrrr."

Nekohiko wanted to argue more, but he was getting on Abihiko's nerves. And running across a chaotic, battle-consumed city was not an easy feat already.

There were better ways for Nekohiko to spend his time.

"Where are we going?" he asked to distract himself.

"Old Ema's house. I hope her place is doing better than the center of the city. After all, it's on the outskirts." Abihiko held Nekohiko to himself with just one hand -- almost as though dancing with him rather than carrying him. The currents of hot air brimming with embers from the rampages going on in the background -- swerved past them, but Abihiko was dead focused on his destination.

Not even the sudden bursts of desperate cries or rumbling destruction in the nearby streets could sway his focus.

"We need to Fuse Kataji's wooden picture and whatever other small parts of your wood we have -- with you. Otherwise you won't be able to fight. And hells, I have no doubts we will need to." Abihiko's jaws clenched, flexing under his skin. "Soon."

Yes.

Because Morokata would not let them off the hook so easily. And...

Wait.

Where was Morokata?

How come he hadn't found them yet? No doubt he would be able to and would want to! But then why wasn't he here already? Perplexed, Nekohiko flicked his gaze down the rooftops and to the frenetic streets down below. Yes, the city was in turmoil and plenty of people rushed through it -- but nobody came after Nekohiko and Abihiko.

No signs of pursuit. No clues about where Morokata was, or why he wasn't hunting them down right this second.

...

Something wasn't right.

Was Morokata still around Okinaga's mansion? With how upset and horrified Kataji had been when he had talked to the tiny doll of Hibiki just half an hour ago -- shouldn't Morokata be even more so? That said, something about Kataji's behavior with Aomi had rubbed Nekohiko the wrong way, and now... a sickening suspicion wormed through Nekohiko as he tried to recall what exactly had displaced him about Kataji so much during his time with Aomi, drinking their tea.

...

What was it?

And then, he realized.

The Hira clothes. Why was he wearing them? Such a minuscule and random detail, but... so unlike Kataji. It did remind him of someone else who was so famous for putting on different colors every time Nekohiko had seen him lately.

What was the power of House Hisome if not in flaunting how easily they shed their disguises and masks and how natural it was for them to put on new ones?

Wait, did that mean--

 

 


***

 

Nekohiko's mind flashed back to his ladybug, paralyzed with denial at the realization.

But he was too late already; he saw that.

Because Kataji that sat beside Aomi on the lounging sofa was a bit too close to her. He was talking about something inconsequential -- as though wanting to distract her and keep her there with him no matter what. One arm hugging her from the side, the other supporting his chin as he tilted his head, watching Aomi up and down in the way no brother should to their sister.

Because he wasn't. The expression on his face -- was a bit too perfectly maintained. Too squinty, too charming. Kataji could never achieve quite this level of refinement whatever he did.

And Aomi must have felt it all, too.

She fidgeted, letting out a nervous little chuckle. "Kata -- I need to go. I promised to meet up with Kotone and--"

Kataji's hand lay slowly on the back of her neck. One finger at a time, like a gradual display of menace this was meant to be. The little girl stiffened under this odd gesture and cast a very frightened look at who she thought was her brother.

Should have been.

If Morokata wasn't as gifted with disguises and glamors as he was.

He smiled.

"Sweet sister, have I told you -- how lucky I am to have you here with me? And how useful it is for me, to get you? How... convenient?"

"Kata--"

His hand clutched her neck from the back like a scruff of a kitten unable to escape such a dominating hold. And just like a kitten, Aomi let out a whelp when "Kataji" jerked her to himself.

His voice was all honey.

"Well, have I?"

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