Chapter Text
Chihiro had only gotten more suspicious after attaining a third blade and electrical burns dotting across his visible and hidden skin. The pain had gone down after about a week, but his hands still twitched and burnt sometimes. After he felt he had recovered enough, he set back out to make up for the time lost.
He was still very fortunate to have found one of the blades so easily, but the others likely have gotten even more scattered after he recovered the one he still couldn’t remember the name of.
But he still had other things to do, like save that little girl from his visions. He currently had no idea where to look for her, but his visions provided a link between her and the greasy haired man, so that’s what he would start with.
Chihiro stalked down the unknown yet familiar street as he retraced his future self's steps. He turned down an alley and barged into the back door of a very dirty, run down bar.
Several sorcerers jumped up from the game they were playing, their conversation dying down. Chihiro quickly unsheathed Enten and pointed it at the one who seemed to be the leader.
“When is the Rakuzaichi held?” He said, readying himself to get hit.
“Huh? Brat, what the fuck are you talking about?” The man replied, readying his attack. Chihiro let out a small sigh at that.
“When is the Rakuzaichi held?” Chihiro repeated, suddenly being right on top of the man, holding Enten close enough to slightly press on it. The man swallowed hard, which Chihiro felt through Enten’s blade.
“E-early November… wh-what do you want with us?” The man replied, and then asked. Chihiro could see the sweat forming on him.
“When in early November?” Chihiro asked, pressing Enten just the slightest bit more.
“T-the 8th, the eighth of every year!” The man almost shouted.
Chihiro nodded slightly, and then cut the man's head off. Almost as soon as he did that he heard yells from behind him, and then felt the burn of an attack hitting him.
He turned around and released a quick Kuro and quickly ended the battle.
He then turned and left the room he entered, and returned to stalking around the streets he didn’t recognize but knew.
He had spent the week after the one spent recovering just snooping and gathering knowledge. Like the name of the auction he had seen, and more on the Hishaku. They were much older and threatening than he thought. No matter though, he would either succeed or die.
He just wanted his dad to be okay.
Chihiro kept wandering till he felt a familiar pang in his head, he quickly ducked into an alley and curled in on himself.
Something would be shown to him, and god he needed hints. He was practically wasting time without his visions.
His vision and ability to feel his body left him, and he felt the familiar tug to open his already open eyes. When he did he saw a vision of a lab, with a large container or tube-like thing in the middle holding a rock with lots of machines connected to the outside of the tube.
He looked around only to realize this was not his memory, he was not here at that moment. This is a new type of vision.
Most of his visions came from one place, his future memories. Like how he saw his father’s death or Samura killing him. But once he had gotten a vision that was him looking in on a scene he wasn’t there for, but he was in the area of. He saw a glimpse of himself there. But in this vision Chihiro wasn’t anywhere near.
The vision then shifted to show the girl from his visions in a cage with an older woman, likely her mother. Jackpot.
His vision then slowly rolled back till he saw a small glimpse of the outside. Not nearly enough to be able to sear it into his vision, but he would take it.
When his feeling and vision came back, Chihiro slowly uncurled himself and forced his shaking body up.
His visions really were convenient. Chihiro would say it was too convenient, but he needed the help. Chihiro then remembered something his father said. Something about the enchanted blades taking away sorcery.
If he still had his visions, even with Enten and Cloud Gouger, what did that mean? Was his visions his sorcery? It had to be. No other way to explain the visions. Chihiro felt so confused.
The world kept playing tricks on him, and he was so tired of it all. He needed to find the girl and the greasy haired man.
Hakuri didn’t exactly know where he was trying to go. He had run away from his home several times before, sometimes for days or weeks, but this was the only time he left with injuries.
Most of the time he ran away after healing, but he just needed to be out of that stupid fucking house. His fingers burnt as he held them close to his chest.
Soya had found another pair of pliers and after Hakuri made some kind of mistake, he chose to use it to twist and break his ring and pinky finger, before just beating him up like regular after losing the pliers.
Hakuri didn’t even take the time to set his fingers before he stormed out. It’s not like anyone stopped him, his father wanted him out, his other brother simply didn’t care, and Soya would hunt him down eventually but for now he would let him run. Like he always did.
Hakuri stopped to lean on a building wall after his ribs began to ache from all the running and walking he had done. He gasped for breath and winced as his hand brushed against the wall too fast.
But he also needed to get somewhere for the night, as he knew staying out on the street sucked. But where? He doesn’t have any money.
Hakuri sighed as he realized maybe he would have to spend more time sleeping on the street.
Ah, whatever. It was better than his home.
As he pushed himself off the wall with his normal hand, he suddenly heard a loud slash and … water running?
He peeked around the wall to the sight of a boy who had to be around his age with three swords on him, only one unsheathed, and an older greasy haired man fighting with a katana of his own.
Anything the boy used was countered and the man seemed to heal himself with the odd feathers scattered across the sky.
Hakuri ducked back around the wall as another attack from the boy went flying, and took a moment to think.
Blades like that, magical attacks… Holy shit! Those were the enchanted blades!
Hakuri turned back around the wall to observe.
He saw the boy constantly taking hits, and quickly lost his excitement. What was he doing? The kid would probably get killed, the man would take his blades and the world kept spinning.
Oh, and Hakuri would probably also die. Enchanted blades tended to kill those around them. Eh, dying probably wouldn’t be that bad.
Hakuri kept watching, but only with the want to see how the blades work.
How did they even get out here? Weren’t they kept under a tight lock and key?
Hakuri quickly banished the thought as he saw the man prepare a large attack. The feathers all turned red, and quickly began to flutter around seemingly at his command.
And then they dashed at the boy, straight at his heart.
And he didn’t dodge.
Hakuri turned back around the wall with a sigh, he expected this. Why was he still disappointed? The world never changed and Hakuri knew that the best. His brother would keep beating him, and he would keep being a failure. Adults would kill children, and suffering continues.
He sighed, and with the battle now presumably over, he turned out to walk literally anywhere else. He looked up just to confirm his suspicions of the boy's death and was frozen with shock at him still alive and standing.
He shouted something and unsheathed another of his blades as an attack left his original one. Then he followed up with another attack.
Hakuri couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. How was he still alive? Why was he still fighting?
The man laughed something and turned to leave as the boy faltered in his steps, but refused to fall down.
Hakuri was still frozen, but he cursed himself for not helping.
He abandoned his previous thoughts and shock and forced himself to run up to the boy to help him.
He needed to do something to help, right?
Kunishige listened to Azami explain everything they knew about the people who attacked them, which wasn’t very much. Apparently they were a dangerous sorcerer gang with a stupid amount of power. They obviously attacked Kunishige because they were planning on killing him and stealing the blades, but they hadn’t accounted for Chihiro.
Kunishige still had no idea why they left and who ripped one of them to death, but it wasn’t him and it couldn’t have been Chihiro. A more pressing thought was in his mind though.
Why did Chihiro disappear? Did they kidnap him? For what? Samura proposed that it was as a hostage of sorts, and Kunishige shivered at that thought.
His son was either dead or a hostage. He felt ill at that. His son, who was suffering even before this.
His episodes and fits had gotten better for a few weeks before the attack, and now he was gone.
Kunishige felt like such a terrible fuck up. None of them felt particularly great. But now they had to find Uruha, who Azami led them to, and get him to help them.
Not that he would say no, but Kunishige really was having a hard time doing anything. He needed Chihiro back.
He honestly hoped that Chihiro was a hostage, because then they would have a chance. He would trade anything for him.
As they got off the train, as Shiba had exhausted his energy and himself teleporting earlier, Kunishige felt disgusted at the fact that the other sword bearers lived in peace.
But it wasn’t their fault.
Kunishige forced his mind to pause as they headed to Uruha’s hot springs.