Chapter Text
Kibishi let a satisfied grin stretch across his face. After a bit of a dry spell, his territory was saturated with negative emotion once more. New babies were such a special treat. Easily frightened. The purest of emotions coming from their fragile little hearts. And the parents, oh the parents were just icing on the cake. Constantly worrying, fretting, filling the homes with anxiety.
The spirit soaked it up. It was delicious.
Kibishi wasn’t cruel, but his hunger was rarely sated by positive emotions. They would sustain him, yes. But he greatly preferred the taste of fear.
This new little treat was already fussing enough to concern its parents quite a bit. What a delight.
Kibishi slithered through the air, a swirl of deep purple and heavy mottled greens. He wanted to see for himself the creature that was making unease spill from the cracks in their home. Following the mouth-watering scent through the neighborhood, Kibishi came upon the house. There were plenty of ways to enter, all the windows open to let in the warm spring breeze. He dripped over the windowsill on the second floor, thrill shooting through him.
A plain looking woman was pacing back and forth in the baby’s room, soft cries sounding endlessly from the tiny bundle in her arms.
“Come on now, Shigeo. It's okay, baby. Mama’s got you. It's okay-“ the woman murmured without pause, exhaustion straining her tone. She rocked and bounced the infant, her back to Kibishi and the window.
Something felt strange. A shiver ran through the spirit without any indication of it being good or bad. Kibishi curled himself up onto the wall, wanting to see. He stretched out over the pair, further and further still until…
The baby stilled, eyes snapping open and Directly. At. Kibishi.
And then it shrieked.
Oh my. Oh, Kibishi had not seen a psychic-at-birth in over a century. What a find. Giddy at the discovery, he retreated for the time being. But he would be back. Often.
And he was. The Kageyama house was his favorite haunt for weeks. Why go anywhere else when he had a buffet right here? He would settle in and get fat on the misery of this house. How long would it be until the child could even tell anyone about him? Two years? Three? Oh yes, he was going to swell like a balloon.
And he would have.
Except less than a month into his gluttony the house was visited by a small, greying woman. He gave her no thought, drunk up to his eyeballs in the family’s insomnia induced despair. She let herself in, took off her shoes, and then marched into the place like it was her own and the other residents were the visitors instead. Without a word she plucked the wailing baby out of its father’s hands and cradled it to her protectively.
Then she turned on her heel and sent Kibishi a truly intimidating glare. It spoke volumes. It was a message to leave now or be removed. Kibishi was not aware if this elderly creature had the capability to do such a thing, but he was not going to test it. He fled the home, content to return when the threat had left at the end of the day.
He came back to a perfectly executed salt circle surrounding the house. Purified. Strong.
Kibishi would not be back.
The child was so bright. Shiruku was entranced, tripping along after the family as they wound their way down the sidewalk. Passing humans brushed against her, their legs sweeping through her form, unaffected. It was not the most pleasant sensation. One she usually avoided, but at this moment she barely took any notice. She was mesmerized. This was what pulled her out of her seclusion? This child was the thing giving off such an enticing aura? How were there not myriads of other spirits swarming around such a being? Shiruku had been able to sense the young human’s energy from miles away.
She could not tear her eyes away from the small form snuggled in its mother’s arms. Was the child even big enough to walk on its own? Shiruku did not spend enough time around humans to recall. The bundle with a face the father carried was certainly too fresh into the world to be up and about, but this one…
It was looking towards her, eyes wide and curious.
Oh.
No, the human was looking at her. It could see her.
It squirmed to see over the older woman’s shoulder better. Tiny fingers gripped tight to its mother, and a little smile lit up its face.
Shiruku paused in the middle of the sidewalk, blinking. Someone walked right through her. She was unsure if she had ever seen such a contradiction with her own eyes. To see such an incredible power contained in a vessel so innocent.
They were getting further away. The child peered around strangers’ heads to keep Shiruku in its sight, clearly similarly interested. Shiruku couldn’t bring herself to move yet, still processing.
And then the child let out a cry, waving at her with a teeny hand.
Something in Shiruku shifted, and she found herself hurrying to catch up with the family, nebulous limbs blurring with the movement. It only took a moment for her to be closer than ever, again hypnotized by this wonder. Without thinking, she reared up on her hind legs, stretching to be within reach of the little one’s short arm.
What would it feel like to be touched by such a thing?
The child was elated by this, eagerly extending a hand down to meet her in the middle. Shiruku’s form pulsed in anticipation. Out of nowhere the mother turned and the child was pulled away.
“What are you doing, Shige?” Her gaze swept the immediate area in confusion.
The child called Shige made an unhappy sound, twisting to keep Shiruku in his sights.
“What’s the matter, Mayuko? Shige getting fussy?” A deeper voice questioned. The father had stopped as well, letting the crowds move around them.
The woman sighed, hefting her child higher on her hip.
“He probably just saw a cat or something, he’s been obsessed with them lately. Right baby? Did you see a kitty?”
Shige lurched forwards suddenly and nearly out of the woman’s arms in an attempt to pat Shiruku. The spirit bounced upwards, short fingers whispering over her fur. Her whole existence rippled. It felt like stardust.
“Bunny!”
Fukakai was young. He knew this and did not care. He was an abundance of energy and was always keen to find more. He used his reserves up so quickly the other spirits scoffed at him. Said he would burn out.
A young idiot in life. A young idiot in death. He was fine with it. This was fun.
Fukakai shot through the streets, quick as a whip. He missed houses by a hairsbreadth, trees by even less. He blew right through the humans. He’d be long gone before they even registered the flash of frigid air. He was speed. He was vigor. He was-
Ooh, what was that?
Fukakai swerved back, changing course towards the sparkle he saw down the street. In a backyard. A shimmer of energy so potent he couldn’t resist.
Huh. It was a child. Hardly more than a toddler, if he recalled correctly. His memories of his life and the ways of people were fading fast. Fukakai pulled up short beside it, taking in the sweet smell of rich power.
The little kid startled, a yelp passing its lips.
So it could see him? Weird. Fukakai paid that no mind, breathing in a deep swell of aura. It was heavenly. He felt reinvigorated already, despite his earlier spurts of travel.
The kid whined, pulling away.
Fukakai followed, sucking in another intoxicating breath.
“Don’t do that-“ the child said, backing away further. “I don’t like you. Go away, please.”
Fukakai was not listening.
“Stop it!”
“Shige, who are you talking to?” A voice called from inside the house.
The child yanked its arm out of Fukakai’s reach, face crumpling.
Fukakai really shouldn’t get himself into trouble, but this aura was entrancing. Okay, maybe just one more…
“Go away!”
The child stomped, fear turning to anger, and dirt started lifting off the ground.
Fukakai fled. He was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid.
Kyuseishu drifted. Floated high upon the breeze, swirling around with the eddying air. The beach was too crowded today to be enjoyable. Too much buzzing energy. It was abrasive on their unstable form. Grating.
They would stay up here for the day.
Or so they thought.
It was late afternoon when a sound met their… well they didn’t think they really had ears anymore. If they had, those had faded long ago. But sound came to them nonetheless.
Crying.
Kyuseishu lowered themselves towards the edge of the water, eyes roving the nearby sand. There were so many humans it was difficult to pinpoint where the concerning noise was coming from. They couldn’t find it, but none of the swarming humans appeared to be looking for it either. Was there so much noise that the beach-goers couldn’t even hear the distress over the sound of their own chaos? How had Kyuseishu heard it if that was the case?
But then there it was.
In the middle of the horde was a small boy in a red bathing suit, wailing. Kyuseishu fluttered closer, filled with sympathy. He was probably lost.
Another boy stood beside him, a thick mop of black hair standing out against pale skin. He patted the other one on the back, just a tiny bit taller. A brother or friend?
Kyuseishu hovered a dozen feet over their heads, fretting. It was dangerous to get closer. The amount of energy down there was making the air vibrate, especially around the boys. It was enough to potentially rip Kyuseishu’s fragile form apart.
But no one was helping them.
Pulling themselves in as tightly as they could in hopes it would give them more time, Kyuseishu dove down.
“Excuse me…” the bigger boy timidly called to passing strangers. “Um, excuse me, please… Ah, no don’t cry, Ritsu. It’ll be okay.” He threw his little arms around the sobbing boy when he gave a particularly loud wail.
Kyuseishu prayed they had enough energy to become visible. They strained but didn’t feel any change.
“Oh, hello,” the boy greeted against all odds.
Taken aback but grateful, Kyuseishu bobbed in place, not enough energy to speak.
“Um, hi? Hello? Oh okay… You don’t talk?” The boy didn’t release the crying one, Ritsu. He just hugged the smaller boy tight and talked over his shoulder. “Can you help me? I can’t find Mama and Daddy.” There was a wobble to his voice that hinted at his own tears not being far behind.
Kyuseishu bobbed again, a whole body nod. With everything they had, they extended a tendril of energy out towards the nearest person’s towel. The best attempt at pointing they would achieve.
“Huh? That’s not mine.” The child did not understand.
A weak shake was all they could muster. They pointed to the towel again and then to the boy’s face, hoping he would get it soon. Kyuseishu didn’t have a lot of time left.
“No, that’s not mine. My towel has froggies on it,” he struggled to raise his voice over the other boy’s hiccups.
That was good enough. Kyuseishu gave a bob in the air and then shot upwards, scanning the beach. Frog towel… Frog towel… Come on frog towel…
There!
A blue towel with green frogs on it lay beside a rumpled one with yellow ducks. A man stood over them, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand and turning in place. He looked distraught.
Kyuseishu made their way back to the boys quickly, gesturing for them to come with. Luckily the boy nodded a shy thank you and tugged the crying one by the hand. They wove through the masses, Kyuseishu urging them to go faster. The amount of energy this boy was putting out was not helping in the slightest, and Kyuseishu was too far gone to absorb it.
“Daddy!”
The boys dashed ahead when they saw their father, the man dropping to his knees in the sand to catch them.
“Oh my gosh, where have you two been? We told you not to go down to the water by yourselves. Your mother and I have been worried sick! She is out looking for you right now-“
A swell of joyful energy wrapped around the relieved family and it was too much.
Kyuseishu was gone.
Jitto lounged in the grass, ignoring the noises rolling over him in waves.
Stubborn, some would call him. Others said it was patience. Either an acceptance of change or a total rejection of it. The spirits bickered. No one could make up their mind and he never corrected them.
Jitto didn’t listen to gossip.
The facts were thus.
Jitto had been here in the field before the surrounding forest had been chopped down. Before the village grew around him. Before the city, all loud cars and tall buildings, replaced a quaint town. Jitto had been here long, long before the playground had been built.
He rolled over, basking in the boiling heat of midday. The sun pressed him to the scorching dirt, humidity hanging heavy over his form. He was weighted like this. Grounded and immovable. Summer was his favorite of the seasons to watch and though it did bring out an abundance of rowdy children, he was rarely disturbed.
Apparently today was a rare day.
A small boy headed his way, stumbling in his eagerness. A girl followed, mild curiosity in her overly large eyes.
Jitto knew this child with the quiet voice and clumsy hands. He was acceptable company at times.
“See, Tsubomi-chan? There’s a spirit right here!” The boy pointed, the flush over his cheeks an unhealthy red. He needed to get out of the sun. “He’s always here. I sit with him sometimes.”
The girl came up beside him, a little more composed but no less sweaty. Her eyes strayed here and there. She shrugged.
“I don’t see anything, Mob.”
The child’s mouth twisted into something unhappy.
“I promise there’s a spirit. He’s um, really big and orange.”
“Can you make me see it?” The girl’s question was innocent but tinged with disinterest.
“Oh... um, I…” The little boy played with his fingers, turning pleading eyes his way. “Can you let Tsubomi-chan see you, please?”
Jitto would do no such thing. Nothing personal.
“Uh- I don’t think he is gunna do it…” The boy’s voice was as small as he was.
“I’m going home then. Bye Mob.”
Jitto watched the girl child walk back to the park and out the gates. The boy child sat down where he was, the dry grass crackling in protest. He sighed and let his slight shoulders slump. Jitto slowly rolled his head to see the child better.
He needed to get out of the sun.