Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eight Years Ago

He ran with his goggles held over his eyes with both hands, trying to still his sniffles as the laughter echoed after him. Would they follow him? Could he run fast enough to get away before the big one made good on its threats to eat him? He stumbled over the roots of the trees in the old garden, tripping over his shoelaces as he struggled to find his way to the garden gate.

Hope reached his ears in the sound of the gate rattling, the sound of the old wooden door swinging open. He flung himself forward, falling into the open arms of the boy who had opened the gate.

“Yuya? Are you all right?”

The soft, familiar voice was so welcome Yuya almost started crying again. He buried his face into the boy’s chest.

“T-They tricked me into the garden, Reiji,” he cried, clutching at the folds of the boy’s kimono. “They locked the gate on me. T-they said they were going to eat me.”

Reiji’s eyes narrowed when Yuya looked up at him, glare shooting out into the garden behind him. He curled one hand protectively over Yuya’s, holding it close to him, as he wrapped the other arm around his shoulders.

Yuya heard the rustle of bushes, and furtively glanced back. Reiji had already leveled his cold gaze on the yokai behind him. The tiny yokai flitted among the flowers, looking like big stag beetles with masked human faces; the bigger one loomed in the shadows of a tree like a furry shadow with arms, and two huge round eyes leering hungrily at Yuya. Yuya shivered, burying himself into Reiji’s grip.

Reiji’s gaze grew colder as he glared at them, tightening one arm around Yuya.

“Get out,” he snapped. “No one gave you permission to do such mischief in our garden.”

“He smells so good, though,” one of the little yokai whined. “You can’t blame us.”

“You can’t keep such a delicious meal all to yourself,” the other hummed.

Reiji stiffened, his spine going totally straight. Yuya almost imagined he saw fire flickering in his eyes. Nervous, he closed his eyes tightly.

“He is not yours to take,” Reiji said, voice even and cold as ice.

He raised one hand, and Yuya felt a trembling pass through the air, like the echo of an earthquake that didn’t touch the ground. When he opened his eyes again, the yokai had disappeared. His shoulder slumped. More tears blurred his eyes and filled his goggles as the relief overtook him with a trembling.

Yuya sniffled. His hands shook. Reiji held him for a moment longer, his arms soft and gentle around him. Then, gently, he lifted Yuya’s goggles from his eyes. Yuya’s tears bubbled free of them in a rush that plopped onto the grass below. With one cool finger, Reiji wiped them away.

“It’s all right,” he said softly. “They won’t bother you anymore.”

Yuya sniffled, still trembling.

“W-was he really going to eat me?” he mumbled.

Reiji pursed his lips, as though considering how to answer the question. In the end, he seemed to decide on the truth.

“It may have,” he said. “Some yokai do enjoy eating humans.”

Yuya shivered, and then he couldn’t stop. Reiji reached for his face again, gently pushing the tears away.

“But they won’t,” he said, gently. “I won’t let them.”

Reiji’s hands were soft and kind, and so reassuring. When he took Yuya in another soft hug, Yuya closed his eyes and stood there a moment longer, feeling the trembles fade out of him slowly. Reiji always came to his rescue.

“I’m sorry,” Yuya said. “I always cry so much....”

Reiji shook his head. His hand rested on the back of Yuya’s head for a moment, and then ran gently, reassuringly through his hair.

“You don’t have to apologize. There is no shame in crying.”

For a soft moment, they held just like that, quiet and calm. Yuya’s heart finally began to slow. As long as Reiji was around, he thought, he’d be okay. After a few more moments, Reiji sighed softly. He stepped back, though he took Yuya’s hand.

His eyes lifted up to the garden, and another faint sigh escaped his lips. His fingers squeezed Yuya’s.

“Yuya,” he said softly. “Don’t come to this house anymore. Not for a while.”

Yuya’s head jerked up. The calm from before vanished, replaced with a sharp alarm.

“What? Why?”

Reiji dropped his eyes to the ground. He still Yuya’s hand, and Yuya reached out to grab his other one. Why wouldn’t Reiji look at him?

“I have to leave,” he said. “I won’t be able to protect you from the yokai here.”

Yuya’s eyes widened. He felt a fresh wave of tears bubble at the back of his eyes, but he tried to force them back.

“Leaving? Why are you leaving? Don’t leave!”

He couldn’t actually do it. His throat tightened and his eyes blurred over with more tears. He let go of Reiji’s hands to wipe them away furiously.

“I’ll be back,” Reiji said, laying his hand on Yuya’s head gently. “I promise. But there’s something I have to do.”

“When?” Yuya demanded. “When will you be back?”

Reiji’s smile was soft, and somewhat sad.

“I don’t know. Soon, I hope. But until then, I want you to stay away from here. Stay away from strange yokai. Don’t talk to them. Don’t let them know you can see them.”

Yuya sniffled again, trying hard to understand. Why was his friend leaving him? The only friend he had who knew what he could see, who knew how to make the mean yokai leave him alone. Reiji couldn’t leave. How could he handle seeing the scary yokai without him?

“But why?” Yuya demanded again, nose wrinkling as he tried and failed to stop crying. “Is it cause I’m always crying? I’ll stop crying! I promise!”

Reiji’s smile turned sadder. He leaned forward and wiped Yuya’s tears from his eyes with his thumbs, cupping Yuya’s face a moment.

“That’s not it. I don’t mind if you cry, Yuya. But there’s something I have to do. And when I’m done, I’ll come back.”

“And you’ll stay?” Yuya asked, voice trembling.

Reiji smiled. There was something far away about him all of a sudden, as though he were already gone. But he returned, then, his eyes meeting Yuya’s.

“I’ll stay forever,” he said, “if that’s what you want, when we meet again.”

“Of course I do!” Yuya said immediately. “I want you to stay forever!”

Reiji let his hands drift away from Yuya’s face. As he stepped back, Yuya followed him out the garden gate, and around the old house that stood next to his own. He stayed on Reiji’s heels all the way to the front of the house - a wagon was parked there, as odd and out of place amidst the cars as Reiji’s old, traditional Japanese house was out of place in Yuya’s neighborhood. Two figures in kimono and veils stood at the wagon; Yuya didn’t know them, but he’d seen people like them working in Reiji’s house before.

Reiji turned to Yuya once more.

“You’re leaving right now ?” Yuya said, eyes widening. He’d thought Reiji meant he was moving soon . Not right now .

“I have to,” Reiji said softly. “I’m sorry. It happened quickly for me, too. It’s why I came to find you.”

Yuya grabbed his hand.

“Do you have to?” he asked again. “Do you really really have to?”

Reiji gave him one of those soft, kind smiles again. He curled his fingers around Yuya’s.

“I’ll be back,” he said, in a voice that was so heavy with the promise that Yuya could almost feel it tightening around their clasped hands, binding them together. “And...when I do...”

He hesitated, only a moment. For a moment, Yuya thought his hand might slip away from him, that he might hop into the wagon without finishing his sentence. Then he tightened his grip for a breath more, something steeling in his eyes.

“When I return, Yuya, will you marry me?”

The words slipped out of him almost as though he hadn’t intended on speaking them. But they hung the air nonetheless, heavier than Yuya knew how to comprehend.

Yuya didn’t know much about marriage. He knew his parents were married, and that his best friend Yuzu’s dad had been married one time. He knew that getting married meant you really liked someone, and that you wanted to stay with them forever.

And he really liked Reiji, and he wanted to stay with him, wanted Reiji to stay with him, forever and ever. So that meant, if he and Reiji got married, then Reiji would never go away again.

“Yes!” he said, without hesitation.

Reiji blinked. For a moment, his lips parted, as though the answer surprised him. Then a smile broke his lips, and he shook his head with a strange look of relief.

“I should have known that’s how you’d respond,” he said.

He squeezed Yuya’s hand once more, and turned away, fingers slipping from Yuya’s. Yuya hurried after him. He almost wanted to climb into the wagon after him, to go wherever it was that Reiji was going. But he didn’t. He watched as Reiji climbed into the wagon and it began to roll away. Yuya chased it down the road, ignoring the weird looks he got from people walking their dogs down the sidewalk.

“It’s a promise, Reiji!” he shouted. “I promise! So you have to keep your promise! You have to come back!

“You absolutely, absolutely, absolutely have to come back!”

Chapter Text

There are...so many yokai today .

Yuya forced a smile at someone who called his name in the hallway, raising a hand in greeting - and pretending that he could actually see whoever had just called to him, and not the huge hairy monster that stood in front of them. 

He let his eyes slide off of the oval shaped creature that seemed to be nothing more than long black hair and a big eye peering out through its bangs, as though waiting for him to acknowledge he could see it. He had to let his gaze bounce off of what appeared to be a giant, pulsing sea cucumber with a sucker mouth attached to the window, swallowing down the burst of panic at seeing the two girls leaning against the wall right near it, unaware of its presence.

But if they couldn’t see the yokai, it couldn’t hurt them. Usually. So he smiled, waved at his classmates, and carefully avoided making eye contact with the menagerie of creatures coating the hallways.

He focused a little too hard, trying not to look at the leering face of a woman with dark black hair hanging out of the ceiling upside down, and smacked into someone.

“Oh, oops, sorry! Didn’t see you there,” Yuya said, hurriedly bouncing back from the person he’d collided with.

“You’re fine, I’m all right,” the boy said, smiling with his eyes closed. Oh, Yuya recognized him - wasn’t he...Mokota? Mokota Michio, from the class next door? They’d spoken a few times. He was like, some cooking whiz or something. He’d heard some girls in his class fawning over how cute he was, once. “You should be careful in the hallway!”

“Ahaha, yeah, you’re not the first person to tell me that,” Yuya said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, sorry, you dropped your stuff.”

He’d just noticed the folders scattered over the floor, and knelt to start scooping them up.

“Thanks, Sakaki,” Michio said, smiling gratefully as he too knelt down to help. “Hey, actually, I meant to ask you...”

Yuya blinked, looking up as he tapped the folders against the ground to straighten them. Was it him, or was something...different about Michio today? Well, not that he knew him very well, but...

“Yeah?” he asked, when Michio didn’t continue for a beat.

Michio startled, as though stirring from some thought. He smiled that same old smile of his.

“Well, I hate to ask, but do you think you could meet me after school today...? I have something I need to ask you about.”

“Me?”

He handed the folders to Michio as they both stood up.

“I’ll be by the cherry tree near the soccer fields after school,” Michio said. “Please meet me there, okay?”

“You can’t ask me right now?” Yuya asked, frowning.

“Well, class is about to start,” Michio pointed out, and as though in response, the first bell chimed. Yuya bit back a swear — he was gonna be late at this rate. His class was on the other end of the hall.

Michio smiled at him again, and patted his shoulder as he walked past him.

“After school, all right? I’ll be waiting.”

Before Yuya could ask him anything else, he was off, and Yuya was going to have to jog to make it to his classroom while avoiding running into any yokai. Geez, what could Michio want? And...oh, crap!! He had a career counseling meeting after school! Dammit...he’d have to explain to Michio later. 

He avoided the gazes of what felt like a hundred yokai crowding the hallway, managing to pretend to trip enough times to avoid walking into any of them, and one way or another, he managed to get to class, already exhausted. He groaned as he flopped face first onto his desk dramatically.

In front of him, Yuzu let out a soft laugh.

“Long night?” she asked.

“Long morning,” he said.

He shifted his chin up onto his arms so he could see Yuzu in front of him, turned around in her chair with her arm leaned against the back. Her lips quirked in a half smile, pink hair pulled back into a ponytail today rather than her usual pigtails. For a moment, she looked around the classroom, then at Yuya, raising her eyebrows.

“The usual kind of long morning, or some other kind of long morning?”

He took a look around the room himself. Students were flowing in, shouting and yelling, throwing papers at each other, jabbering about their plans for the upcoming weekend, showing off cell phone charms or phone numbers they’d gotten from cute strangers.  And among them, as well, were yet more yokai. A severed head sat on one girl’s desk, staring hollow-eyed at the binder she had propped open against the edge. A blue flame hung from the ceiling, swinging softly every time someone came through the door. There was something inside that guy’s bag in the seat in front of Yuzu, but he couldn’t quite tell what.

“It’s an excessive amount of the usual,” he said.

Yuzu frowned, but she didn’t continue the conversation. Yuzu was one of the few people who knew that Yuya could see yokai, and also knew that talking about it in public was a surefire way to get their attention. He couldn’t account for why there were so many more at school than usual, but it just meant he couldn’t say anything out loud without letting them know he could see them. And that was always trouble.

As the teacher slid the door open and the students began to settle, Yuya let his head fall back onto his arms crossed on the desk, tuning out. Pretending to sleep through class was the easiest way to avoid accidentally looking at a yokai.

Plus, he had plenty to think about: Michio’s weird request, the number of yokai in the school, and the dreaded career counseling session. He closed his eyes, and let his mind drift.

Fudo-sensei let out a long-suffering sigh as he set the blank page down in front of him, eyes sliding over to Yuya. Yuya squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. Something about the way his teacher managed to turn a neutral gaze into something that looked like a disappointed father was a talent he was renowned for among the student base, as well as being renowned for being exceptionally attractive among most of the female student body. Hell, even Yuya couldn’t disagree with that. Fudo-sensei was young to be a teacher, and his sharp blue eyes and dark hair were enough to make anyone think he should be a movie star, not a high school teacher.

“Still not finished filling out your career form?” Fudo-sensei asked. There was a gentleness to the way he said it, but it only made Yuya feel worse, like he’d somehow disappointed him.

“I guess...I’m just not all that good at making decisions,” he said.

Fudo-sensei hummed softly, drumming his fingers on the table once.

“When you first came to school, all you could talk about was how you wanted to go into acting,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Did you decide against it?”

“I...”

Yuya’s voice trailed off. Sure, he’d wanted to be an actor since he was a kid, to do something with entertainment, like his famous stage magician father. He wanted to...he wanted to bring people happiness, to put smiles on people’s faces, like his father. But, well, his father had pulled the ultimate trick and disappeared three years ago. Since then...the dream seemed to be souring. 

“I guess I started thinking maybe I should just go to college first,” Yuya said. “Because acting isn’t super stable, but then...I couldn’t decide on a college.”

He scrunched his shoulders around his ears, feeling very small under his teacher’s gaze. Fudo-sensei considered him for what felt like a long moment, head resting against his hand. Yuya tried to ignore the blue creature with a pot on its head crouching on Yusei’s desk, near his arm. It was so distracting, trying to focus with those things all over the place...why was it that only he could see them, anyway? Who’d decided that was fair?

“I think, what you need, Sakaki-san,” Fudo-sensei said, “is to try to remember what it is you want.”

Yuya frowned, brow furrowing.

“I mean...isn’t that what this meeting is for?”

Fudo-sensei shook his head.

“I don’t mean what you want for your career,” he said. “I mean something you want . Something that makes you want to walk forward to get to it.”

He tilted his head slightly, dark eyes holding Yuya’s gaze.

“I think somewhere along the way, you’ve lost that feeling,” he said softly. “And it’s hard to build a future without it.”

Yuya bit his lip. That might be true, but...it was kind of annoying how every meeting he had with Fudo-sensei felt like it turned into a therapy session. He wanted something more concrete...or honestly, even to just be scolded. It would be easier than having to think about the stuff that Fudo-sensei always seemed to try to make him think about.

“I...I guess I have to think about it some more,” Yuya said.

Fudo-sensei nodded. He pushed the blank sheet back to Yuya, and Yuya reluctantly took it.

“I’m going to give you a little longer to turn this in,” Fudo-sensei said. “Take your time. And take care of yourself.”

“I will, thanks, sensei.”

Yuya quickly grabbed his bag and hurried off, before he could let his gaze wander to the pot-headed yokai again. God, he just wanted to go home and hide his head in a pillow. Maybe scream a little. Today was such a headache.

What he wanted ? He wanted to not have to overthink not looking at every yokai that showed up in the hallway, to not have to pretend to trip over his shoes to have an excuse to walk around a mask on the floor that he otherwise shouldn’t be able to see.

“That bad, huh?”

Yuzu’s voice startled him, and he looked up. She grinned at him, tossing a water bottle his way. He only barely managed to snag it before it fell to the floor.

“You waited for me?” he said, blinking.

“Duh. We’re studying tonight, remember?” she said, rapping him lightly on the forehead with her knuckles, grinning. “Getting our homework done early so we can celebrate tomorrow?”

“Celebrate?”

Yuzu laughed, covering her mouth with one hand.

“Yuya, did you forget your own birthday ? It’s really been a rough day, huh?”

Oh geez . What with everything, he totally had forgotten his own birthday was tomorrow.

“I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes,” he said, unscrewing the water bottle and downing almost half of it as they made their way through the halls and outside.

“You get used to it,” she teased, ruffling his hair.

Both of their houses were pretty close to the school, so it wasn’t a long walk. To his relief, Yuzu did not ask him about the details of his career counseling session. They kept their conversation to unimportant things, like the plans for tomorrow after school, or the new music CD they’d both gotten to listen to and discuss later.

Yuya had finally started to relax, as surprise yokai became fewer and farther between the closer they got to home. Once in the safety of his house, he could tell Yuzu everything about what had happened today, about how many yokai had been everywhere , about Michio’s weird request and how he hadn’t been able to actually tell him he couldn’t make it. The yokai never came into his house, for some reason, which meant it was safe . He could relax, decompress.

At least, that’s what he thought, until they crested the hill to their houses, and both of them stopped almost as one. Yuya stared down the street at the pair of moving trucks sitting in front of the house next door to his — not Yuzu’s house, but the other one. The one that stuck out.

It was the only traditional Japanese house in the whole neighborhood, complete with a big wraparound porch, peaked roof, and paper sliding doors. Next to the other modern day houses, like Yuya’s with its big glass porch, it looked completely out of place, as though it had been there since the old days and the rest of the city had just grown around it.

“Whoa, someone’s moving in?” Yuzu said, eyes widening. “Here I thought they were going to tear it down - it’s been empty for, what, a decade?”

“Eight years,” Yuya said.

His stomach turned a little bit, a sort of melancholy feeling settling over him at the sight of the trucks. Yuzu glanced at him, and seemed to notice. A little smile crossed her lips, and she elbowed him lightly.

“Aw, does someone miss his fiance?” she teased.

“Oh, come on, are you really gonna bring that up again?” Yuya said, blushing.

“What? It’s romantic! Making a promise as kids to get married when you meet again,” Yuzu said, clasping her hands together dramatically. “It’s like a fairy tale.”

Yuya rolled his eyes.

“We were kids . I didn’t even know what marriage was back then.”

Yuzu sent him another meaningful, wiggly eyebrow look, and Yuya rolled his eyes at her.  He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for his house.

And yet...still.  A strange pang of loneliness washed over him as he watched the movers lugging boxes inside.  Maybe a part of him really had thought all these years that one day, the boy next door would come back...not that he wanted to get married or anything, like he was only going to be seventeen starting tomorrow!!  And he didn’t really know for sure that he wanted to get married at all, much less to a childhood crush from eight years ago who he didn’t even know anymore.

“I wonder who it is, though,” Yuzu said, following after him. “Someone who’s going to move into an old place like that is probably an eccentric.”

“Well, my mom will probably have us go say hello later,” he said.  “I’ll find out who’s moving in then.  Come on, let’s get some snacks, I’m starving .”

He pushed inside, weirdly feeling like he didn’t want to talk about who was moving into the house next door. It made him feel kind of...upset. As though maybe somewhere in his heart, he had been hoping that his old friend would come back to that house again — and now, the possibility was gone. 

It felt so much like a dream, somehow. As though he’d only imagined all of it. It was hard to remember his childhood crush’s face, or even his name. And that only made him feel more melancholy.

“Hey mom, I’m home,” he called.

“Hello, Yoko-san!” Yuzu called.

“Welcome home, Yuya! Oh, and is that Yuzu I hear?”

Yuya’s mother peeked her head around the wall with a bright smile, hair pulled back in her usual ponytail and some flour on her cheek.

“You’re both just on time — I’m trying a new recipe today.  I need taste testers.”

“Oh nooo,” Yuya groaned.  “Come on, mom, can’t we just eat something normal??”

“Hang on, I’m interested,” said Yuzu.  “What are you making?”

She headed to the kitchen.  Yuya sighed.  Yet again, mom was trying some weird new recipe that was probably going to take forever, and he was hungry now .  He followed Yuzu into the kitchen, where she was already leaning over the counter to examine whatever was in that bowl.  The kitchen was, as Yuya expected, a disaster.  There were bags of ingredients and bowls and utensils over every surface.  Yuya wouldn’t even be able to fix up his own snack.  Ugh. 

“I’m just gonna take some drinks out to the back porch,” he said.  “Yuzu, come on out when you’re ready.”

“Sure,” Yuzu said, clearly preoccupied with the mysterious recipe.  “Be out in a sec.”

Yuya sighed.  Welp, he probably lost his study partner for today.  He’d have to get his homework done on his own, so he wouldn’t have to do it on his birthday. He rummaged around in the fridge to find some iced tea and poured two glasses, leaving his mother and Yuzu behind to take them out to the back porch.

It was a nice day, cool and breezy, but the clouds were starting to gather like a blanket, coating the sky in a thin gray light.  Might be a storm rolling in soon.  He sighed as he sat down in one of the porch chairs, arms flopping over the side.

For a moment, he just sat, enjoying the quiet - and the lack of yokai. His heart finally felt like it could settle. He might even doze off sitting here if he wasn’t careful.

Instead, though, his head rolled slowly over to the house next door.

The Sakaki house didn’t have a fence, but the house next door did - just a low cobblestone wall, about three or four feet tall, encasing the garden. That old garden has gotten overgrown years ago with no one to take care of it. Vines crawled over the sides of the walls, and the trees were beginning to spread over into the next door yards. If someone hadn’t moved in, they probably would have ended up taken down for safety reasons. But he could still smell the scent of the flowers still growing wild inside, and it was a scent that stirred memories.

He’d played in that garden a lot with his friend. He couldn’t quite remember much of what they’d done together. But...he almost thought he remembered...telling his friend about seeing the yokai...

Or no, that wasn’t quite right...but his friend had known, hadn’t he? Or had it only been a game that he’d played along with? Yuya couldn’t remember. He groaned, massaging his temples with his fingers. It shouldn’t bother him so much how little he remembered...he’d only been nine. It made sense to forget a lot from when you were nine.

But it felt...wrong, somehow, to have forgotten so much about his friend, after how important he’d been. Yuya remembered that much at least. His friend had been...so important to him. And he...he still missed him, somehow...

A soft clicking sound stirred him from his thoughts. He blinked his eyes clear of memories, frowning. The sound came again. It sounded like...someone snipping branches. 

He leaned forward in his chair. Was someone moving around in the garden?

He almost fell over as someone rose up from where they’d been crouching behind the wall, garden shears in one hand, and shorn branches in the other.

His placid, quiet violet eyes found Yuya’s almost immediately, as though they’d been waiting to meet his. He was tall, at least a head over Yuya, with a smooth, aristocratic pale face, and dressed in a traditional kimono with a haori over the top. Red glasses sat on the bridge of his long nose, sleek silver hair trimmed neatly over his eyes.

For a moment, it was as though the world stopped. Yuya met the young man’s eyes, and felt as though there were nothing else in the world but those eyes — those familiar eyes. 

“Rei...ji?” he whispered, the name falling from his lips before he even fully registered that he remembered it. “Reiji?”

The young man’s eyes softened, and it was so familiar that Yuya’s heart squeezed. He smiled in that faint, quiet way of his, as though nothing at all had changed in eight years.

“You remember me,” he said, inclining his head. “I’m pleased.”

Yuya’s time snapped back into motion, so fast he almost felt like he had whiplash — but he was speechless. It was — it was him. It was his friend from all those years ago, all grown up and —

And the person that nine-year-old Yuya had promised to marry when he returned.

Reiji tilted his head with that strange, faint smile of his.

“It’s been a long time, Yuya,” he said softly. “I’m glad to see you again.”

Chapter Text

“I-it’s you!” Yuya blurted. “You...you actually — you —”

Reiji smiled — the same faint, barely there smile that Yuya remembered, as though amused by Yuya’s outburst. His face may have aged, but his expressions were exactly the same. And Yuya was somewhat surprised at how vividly he remembered, now that the young man was in front of him.

“I told you I would come back,” Reiji said. “Did you not believe me?”

“I...it’s been eight years,” Yuya said, but it sounded sort of lame as a response.

Reiji let out a soft breath that Yuya realized was a laugh. He set down his handful of clipped branches, and leaned his shears against the wall.

“I promised you,” he said, eyes holding Yuya’s. “I will never break my promises to you.”

Yuya’s heart leaped, and he couldn’t exactly have said why.  It really was him. It was Reiji. Older, now, and...and extremely pretty. The thought made Yuya blush, but it was true!! It was almost hard to look at him straight in the eye.

We also promised to get married when we were kids , he thought suddenly, flushing. Does he mean — are we keeping that one too?

He opened his mouth, almost about to ask, regardless of how weird of a question it would be to ask of someone you’d just met again for the first time in years .

A loud crash resounded from the kitchen, and his mother swore.

“Yuya, hun? Can you get in here? We have a kitchen emergency.”

“Oh, shoot, it’s everywhere ,” Yuzu cried, and Yuya heard an accompanying clatter of pans and fumbling of feet.

He glanced furtively at the door, and then at Reiji. Reiji’s eyes softened. He tilted his head towards the house.

“Perhaps you ought to go assist,” he said. “We can catch up another time.”

Yuya wanted to protest. But Reiji was back ! He wanted to catch up with him! To find out where he’d been all these years, and why he’d left — and why he was back! His mom could wait, couldn’t she?

Reiji tilted his head towards his garden, as though he’d somehow heard Yuya’s thoughts, lips twitching into a faint smile.

“I should finish attending to these roses. But I hope you’ll come to visit me again, like you used to.”

A blush creeped over Yuya’s cheeks again. He had been over at Reiji’s place a lot when he was a kid, hadn’t he? But now when he was seventeen , and Reiji was...however old he was, it seemed somehow...different to think about just walking over and letting himself into the garden.

“Yuya?? Now??” his mother yelled.

“Oh, I’m coming!” he shouted back, then looked quickly at Reiji. “Are you — going anywhere again?”

Reiji smiled, inclining his head.

“I will be here at this house for the foreseeable future.”

For some reason...that warmed Yuya. He smiled.

“I — I’ll see you soon, then!” he said. “We’ve got to talk and catch up and — and I want to know how you’re doing! And — okay, mom, I’m coming!”

Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from Reiji’s, and hurried inside. As soon as he could, he promised himself. He’d go to see Reiji again as soon as he could.

It seemed that yesterday’s burst of yokai activity had been a fluke. He hardly saw the flicker of a demon flame anywhere on the streets or at school that morning. It was a welcome reprieve — maybe the universe was giving him a birthday present.

“Still meeting for musicals tonight, right?” Yuzu said, bumping him with her hip.

“You know it,” Yuya said, grinning. “And you have to sit through Little Shop of Horrors with me, because it’s my birthday.”

“Oh, how could you,” Yuzu said dramatically, putting a hand to her forehead in mock faint.

He laughed and pushed her lightly, sending her back to her desk. 

He felt actually pretty good today! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so psyched for the day. There were barely any yokai to pretend not to see, it was his birthday, and he and Yuzu were going to spend the whole night watching bad (and some good) musicals. Mom was going to make pancakes instead of the disaster that had nearly destroyed the oven yesterday. 

And not to mention, Reiji was back! Yuya hadn’t had a chance to see him again last night, but he’d go over tomorrow for sure. Seeing him again had been such a shock...but a welcome one, he realized. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d actually missed him, and how much he was looking forward to finding out more about where he’d been, and getting to know him all over again. Sure, there was that weird promise they’d made as kids, but they’d probably just laugh about it together. It would be nice. Yuya didn’t have many people to talk to outside of Yuzu — it was hard to talk to people while also ignoring the yokai, and trying not to act weird about it. It would be good to have someone else to hang out with.

Yup, there wasn’t too much that could ruin a day like this, he thought, actually humming to himself as he slid into his seat.

Something crinkled when he reached into his desk, and he frowned. He turned his head to look inside his desk. Please don’t be a yokai, please don’t be a yokai....

It wasn’t, thankfully. It was a note. Hm? Had he left this here?

He unfolded the paper while Fudo-sensei called students to get back to their seats. It was a short note, short enough to read before the class rep called everyone to stand and bow.

I missed you yesterday. I’ll be at the same spot today. Please come? I promise it won’t take long. I really need some help. -Michio

Oh shoot. In all of yesterday’s kitchen disaster and Reiji’s appearance, Yuya had totally forgotten he’d left Michio hanging without an explanation. What did he need help with anyway?

He frowned, and stuffed the note into his pocket.

Well, if it wouldn’t take long...he could at least stop over before he met with Yuzu. At the very least, he ought to apologize for leaving him hanging.

Still, he thought, frowning as he turned his attention to the front. What did Michio need help with from him, anyway?

Yuya ran at breakneck speeds across the grounds to Michio’s meeting spot. Yuzu was grabbing some stuff from her choir club, so he had a few minutes, and wanted to get whatever this was over with. He was eager to get to the rest of his day!

Michio was already waiting under the tree, smiling.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about yesterday,” Yuya gasped as he jogged to a stop, leaning forward with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you about my career counseling meeting, and I — well, I’m really sorry, but I promised Yuzu I’d meet up with her soon, so I don’t have very long...”

Yuya rambled to a stop, because Michio wasn’t saying anything. He just stood there, next to the tree, looking at him, in a way that made him feel suddenly very uncomfortable. It felt suddenly oppressively quiet, and he became hyper aware of the fact that there was no one out on the soccer fields practicing today. They were just far enough away from the school building that no one would notice them over here. Why did he want to meet all the way over here...?

“Um...Michio? What was it that you needed to talk about?”

Michio sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. It sounded...wrong somehow. Like he...wasn’t used to breathing.

“I — is this going to take long? Yuzu and I have plans...it’s my birthday and we’re going to —”

“Oh, I know it is,” Michio said. His voice was — wrong. 

That wasn’t Michio’s voice. 

Yuya jolted back — too slowly. He felt something cold, and then — warm. Warmth blossomed from his neck, and he stumbled back. His pendulum clattered to the ground — the string had been cut...oh? What was...

Yuya gasped as he took another stumbling step back, clutching one hand to his neck. Warmth bloomed over his fingers, and — blood. Blood pressed against his skin. 

Bleeding. He was bleeding. How deep was it? Oh god, that was his neck. Michio had just — had just tried to — 

“Ah, you’re a little faster than I thought,” Michio said, again in that not-right voice that seemed to strain against his throat. “Or maybe this body is just a little too slow.”

Yuya pressed his hand to the cut on his neck, blood trickling between his fingers. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit, what was — what was going on? Why was Michio — oh god, he was bleeding, his neck was bleeding, he was going to die — 

“Wh-what are you doing?” he gasped. “M-Michio —”

“Shh,” Michio whispered, advancing on him — Yuya couldn’t get his legs to work, his head was foggy and dizzy with panic and adrenaline, the warm slickness on his palm, the sudden terror that he was — he was about to die. Michio was going to kill him. Why? Why was he — 

“Don’t worry,” Michio whispered. “It’s going to be over soon. You should be glad I’m the one who found you first. I won’t drag it out. I meant to kill you with one shot, you know, so you wouldn’t suffer. Just relax. You’re going to be eaten soon, anyway, so why not let me do it?”

Eaten? Michio was going to — to eat him?

Yuya gagged, bile rising up in his throat. Oh, god . It wasn’t Michio. It was — Michio was a yokai. But why was he...a yokai hadn’t tried to hurt him in years. He’d been so good at pretending he couldn’t see them. Why would one suddenly target him now? Yuya couldn’t think. He was so dizzy. Was he bleeding out? He needed...a hospital...

“N-no,” Yuya gasped. “G-get away from — me —”

Michio grabbed him by the shoulder, yanking him close. His hands dug too hard into Yuya’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.  His...his teeth were too long when he smiled.

“Just close your eyes,” he soothed. “Mm...you smell so good...I understand why everyone’s been waiting so long for you.  Hey, hey, don’t struggle, don’t struggle. The more we wait, the more yokai will be attracted to your scent, and they might not be as nice as me —”

“Oh, I would agree. I certainly won’t be very nice at all.”

The cold voice cut through the haze of Yuya’s panic and pain. He sucked in a breath, eyes widening. Michio’s eyes bulged.

And then he was gone — no, not gone, flung several feet away, skidding to a stop and smacking against the tree. Yuya fell back. Strong, soft arms caught him, held him gently.

Michio spluttered as he staggered to his feet, looking pale and shocked. Then his face contorted with anger, snarling and baring his fangs.

“That’s my prey,” he snarled. “I found him first!”

“I believe you’ll find I found him long, long before you did,” the soft voice said, grip tightening on Yuya. “Begone.”

Michio snarled, his face contorting in ways a human face shouldn’t. With a speed and ferocity Yuya knew Michio didn’t have, he launched himself forward.

The arms that held Yuya shifted him gently. One haori clad arm lifted up — and caught Michio right against the forehead. Michio froze in midair, eyes wide, held aloft by some power that none of them could see.

“I said,” the voice said. “Begone.”

Michio’s eyes bulged a moment. His irises rolled — for a moment his eyes turned fully black. Then his mouth opened in a silent scream, and a black mist poured out of his mouth. Michio’s body went limp, and the hand that had held him in the air released him. He slid gently to the ground, as though his body were no heavier than a leaf fluttering from a tree.

Yuya hung there, staring down at Michio’s unconscious form, hand still pressed to his bleeding neck. His heart screamed. What...what was...he was so dizzy...

“Yuya,” the voice said. “Yuya. Are you all right? I’m sorry. I thought that simply my being near would scare the little ones off, at least this early in the game. I shouldn’t have looked away.”

Yuya blinked through the haze of fear and pain. The arms that held him shifted him, holding him by the shoulders. Yuya’s vision cleared.

“R...Reiji?”

It couldn’t be anyone else. Reiji, in his haori and kimono, held him gently, eyes sharp as he looked Yuya over. As Yuya watched, Reiji’s gaze dropped to his bloody neck, and his eyes narrowed.

“Look at me,” he said. “Let me see.”

“I...I think I need a hospital,” Yuya mumbled.

“There is no need of that.”

Reiji gently pried Yuya’s bloody hand from his neck. Yuya willed his heart to stop racing, to stop pumping blood out of him even faster. Was he going to die? Was he going to...

His eyes bubbled with tears.

“R-Reiji,” he mumbled. “I’m...I’m scared...”

“I know,” Reiji whispered. “It’s going to be all right. I promise you.”

His voice was so soothing. And...and he said he promised. He’d said before that he always kept his promises...

Reiji pulled him close, and leaned in. For a moment, Yuya didn’t know what was happening, he was too frightened, too dizzy, to process. At least, until he felt Reiji’s lips against his neck. 

For just a moment, he panicked. Was Reiji going to eat him now? Or — or what was he doing?

“W-what are you —”

Reiji held him firmly, but gently, not letting him squirm away. His tongue flicked out over Yuya’s cut, running down the length of it. Yuya felt an inappropriate noise curling in his throat at the feeling of Reiji’s mouth on his neck. He could only hang there, wide eyed and shocked, still barely understanding what had just happened, not to mention this .

But when Reiji finally leaned away, tongue flicking over his lips...Yuya frowned. He tentatively pressed his fingers to his neck.

The cut was gone.

Yuya’s eyes widened. He looked up at Reiji, mouth hanging open.

“W-what...how...?”

And his words froze in his throat as he realized the Reiji in front of him wasn’t...quite the Reiji he remembered.

He was still taller than Yuya, still clad in his haori and kimono, still silver haired and violet eyed, still wearing his red glasses. But...but his eyes had gone such a vibrant shade of violet that it was startling, and his pupils - they’d turned to slits. And from his hair...were those... fox ears? Something big swished behind him, and when Yuya dropped his eyes down, he saw a mass of huge gray fox tails — he couldn’t even count how many there were.

He stared back up at Reiji, comprehension dawning over him.

“Reiji,” he said. “You...you’re...”

“A yokai,” Reiji agreed. “Yes. You’ve finally remembered.”

Yuya almost flinched. Michio’s words echoed in his head, the one about his scent drawing other yokai. Why...why would there be yokai trying to kill him? He shot a furtive look down at the unconscious Michio.

“Do not worry yourself,” Reiji said. “He will be all right. He was being possessed by yokai that wasn’t powerful enough to manifest by itself. He’ll wake up and not remember a thing.”

Really? That did relieve Yuya, his shoulders slumping. So it hadn’t been Michio after all. Somehow, that thought reassured him. Michio was just an ordinary kid, after all — an ordinary kid who’d had the misfortune of getting caught up in a yokai’s mischief.

He tensed again, though, as he remembered where he was, and what he’d just learned, and what had just happened. Was...Reiji wasn’t going to...was he? Reiji was a yokai. His childhood friend...his childhood crush ...he’d been a yokai all this time? Had Yuya known? Could he have forgotten something so important? Was this why Reiji had always known about his sight — not because Yuya had told him, but because he’d been a yokai that only Yuya could see?

Was Reiji going to try to eat him, like the yokai possessing Michio had?

As though he’d heard the thought, Reiji squeezed Yuya’s shoulders briefly, and then released him. He stepped back, putting space between them and tucking his hands into his haori sleeves. Yuya’s heart began to slow as Reiji put distance between them. Guilt suddenly rose up in his chest for being so frightened of Reiji. Hadn’t Reiji just saved him? And he’d had his chance to kill Yuya if he’d wanted to...he could have done it so easily, and he hadn’t. In fact he’d...healed him, somehow.

“You should leave,” Reiji said, after a beat. “The smell of your blood will likely draw others.”

That made Yuya tense up again. So it was true? Other yokai were going to come and...and try to kill him? Why?

“I...I don’t know what’s going on,” Yuya said. His eyes bubbled with a sudden rush of tears.

Reiji inclined his head.

“I know,” he said, and there was such a deep sadness in his voice that it briefly stopped Yuya’s own wash of tears in his surprise. “I understand your wariness of me, in this situation. But please understand that I want nothing more than your safety.”

He bowed a little lower, his sharp gray fox ears tilting forward.

“I’ll explain everything to you. But now, I think, is not a good time. You are due to meet your friend, Hiragi Yuzu, are you not?”

Yuya jumped. 

“Oh, shit, Yuzu ,” he said. “I — she’s probably worried — oh, shit I’m covered in blood —”

Reiji shook his head. He took a step forward, and Yuya restrained the urge to flinch. But Reiji only took his hand, gently, producing a small cloth. He wiped the blood away from Yuya's hand, then gently touched the cloth to the side of Yuya's shirt collar. When Yuya looked down as Reiji stepped away, he found that the stain on his shirt was gone.

“Go,” Reiji said softly. “Go, and rest. I promise you will be safe for the rest of today.”

Yuya looked up at Reiji, still sort of panicking. How could he go see Yuzu like this ? What was he supposed to tell her? Blood or no blood, he was still in absolute crisis mode. His classmate, possessed or not, had just tried to kill and eat him!

“But —”

“Rest,” Reiji said, in a voice that allowed for no arguments. “Please, Yuya. I know it will be difficult. But please try to enjoy today.”

The way his brow furrowed, and his eyes clouded, Yuya could almost hear what he didn’t say out loud. Because today may be the last day you can enjoy for some time.

Then his eyes softened, in that way that was so familiar, even if his eyes were so different in this form.

“You’ve made it through the first day,” he said. “Take time to recover. I will come to you tomorrow.”

“But I can’t just not know what’s happening,” Yuya said, voice cracking. “Please — I don’t —”

“Yuya! There you are!”

Yuya jumped and whirled. At the other end of the field, he could see Yuzu, running towards him and waving one arm in the air. His heart raced. No, Yuzu, don’t come now — 

Reiji leaned over Yuya’s shoulder, his breath tickling Yuya’s ear and making him jump.

“She cannot see me while I am in this form,” he said. “Go. I will tend to your classmate.”

His hand gently touched Yuya’s shoulder, tentative, before ghosting away.

“I promise to tell you everything. But for now, please. Go. Enjoy your birthday with your friend.”

Yuya wanted to turn around, to look at Reiji again. But he didn’t want Yuzu to know that Reiji was there — didn’t want to have to explain to her what was happening, when even he didn’t know.

So, against all of his better judgement, he jogged away. He didn’t look back.

“Oh, were you trying to meet with Michio again?” Yuzu asked, huffing as she came to a stop near him. “What did he want, anyway?”

Yuya sucked in a breath — he never lied to Yuzu. He had always told her the truth.

But when she looked at him with those open eyes, that kind face...he couldn’t worry her. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, to tell her that everything had changed — he didn’t just see the yokai, now. One had attacked him. And if its words were any indication, more were coming, and he didn’t even know why.

Yuzu would worry herself to death over him. He couldn’t cloud her eyes like that.

So he forced a smile.

“I dunno,” he said. “He didn’t show.”

Reiji carefully gathered Mokota Michio into his arms. He would deposit the boy at the nurse’s office, where he could recover. And in the meantime...

He flickered his eyes towards where Yuya was leaving with Hiragi Yuzu. Then his gaze flickered up to the tree.

“Selena.”

The huge black cat nestled in the crook of the tree stared at him with her big green eyes, twin tails flicking back and forth over the edge of the branch. Reiji tilted his head in the direction that Yuya and Yuzu had gone.

“Watch over him until I return,” he said. “Keep other yokai away from him. If anything you can’t handle shows up, contact me immediately. Call in Sora if you must.”

“Can I eat any of them?” Selena asked, her cat’s mouth twisting in strange ways to form the words. “The little yokai, I mean.”

Reiji sighed.

“Only if you really must.”

Selena’s tails curled with pleasure, and she hopped off the branch, trotting leisurely after Yuya and Yuzu. Reiji watched her go, hoping that would be enough. Hopefully, his scent on Yuya should scare off enough of the smaller yokai, along with Selena’s presence. And if those didn’t work, the charm he'd put on Yuya when he’d cleaned the blood away would summon Reiji immediately if he was in danger.

In the meantime...he should care for this unfortunate student who’d gotten mixed up in all of this.

As he stepped away, however, his eyes caught on something glittering in the grass. He frowned, and walked towards it.

Near the roots of the tree, left behind, was a pale blue crystal on a chain, metal wings coiled around it. Wasn’t that...Yuya’s necklace? It must have fallen off when the yokai had attacked with the knife.

Reiji carefully picked it up with one of his tails, hiding it in his fur. He would return it to Yuya tomorrow, when they met again.

When they met again...ah. This was not how he’d wanted their reunion to turn out, on the whole.

He could only hope that he’d done enough. That he’d prepared enough.

That going forward....he’d be able to keep Yuya alive.

Chapter Text

Yuya hardly slept that night. He tossed and turned, slipping in and out of fitful dreams, waking up in cold sweats only to fall straight back into a shadowy dream where creatures with the faces of his classmates stalked him, too long teeth shining in their mouths as they cornered him in the swirling darkness.

Yuzu frowned at him when he met her outside his house for the walk to school.

“You all right?” she said. “You look like total crap.”

“Just didn’t sleep too well,” Yuya said, rubbing his eye and trying to smile. “Must have eaten way too many pancakes.”

Yuzu pursed her lips, eyes narrowing slightly. He was pretty sure she was onto him. It had taken everything he’d had to relax last night. Being home with his mom and Yuzu had definitely helped, and during a few of the musicals, he’d even been able to forget what had happened. But during Little Shop of Horrors, some fake stage blood had nearly sent him into hysterics. He’d had to fake a bathroom emergency in order to hide for a few minutes and get control of himself again.

I can’t tell her what happened , he thought. I can’t worry her .

So he tried smiling again, and swung his bag playfully to bump her arm.

“Last one to school’s a rotten egg,” he said, and darted off.

“What? Are we in middle school or something?” Yuzu called after him, but he heard her running after him anyway.

Yuya shot a glance at Reiji’s house as he bolted past. He needed to talk to him, soon. He’d almost thought about calling off sick today so that he could go and see him, but he’d worried that after how lowkey he’d been yesterday, it would just arouse his mom’s and Yuzu’s suspicions more. And if he went sneaking off to Reiji’s house while his mom was on high alert...well, it would only be a matter of time before she caught onto him and forced him to spill everything. He hadn’t even told her about being able to see yokai. He absolutely couldn’t tell her about this - she’d freak .

So, despite the growing unease in his stomach, he’d have to bide his time, and wait. He’d go over first thing after school, pretending to just be really excited about saying hello to the new neighbors.

The running actually helped a lot, even though he and Yuzu were both huffing and puffing by the time they made it to school.

“Geez, Yuya,” Yuzu gasped, leaning her hand on one knee as she paused to catch her breath. “You don’t have to try that hard to prove that you’re full of energy. I believe you.”

“Then my evil plan worked,” Yuya said, laughing between gasps of air. “Hey, at least I didn’t make you late to class for once. You can get in early!”

Yuzu snorted, but she did smile, looking more relaxed. Good. Whatever was going on...he didn’t want her to get involved. It was bad enough that she knew about the yokai.

Yuya looked around the school grounds for any signs of yokai before he followed her inside. Normally, there were a few out, and he was nervous — would one attack him at school, in front of everyone? What would that look like to someone who couldn’t see yokai?

But to his surprise, he didn’t see anything. Nothing except a large black cat resting on the wall by the gate, tail curled up alongside it. He stared at it for a moment, trying to decide if it might be a yokai or not.

“Oh, what a cute cat,” Yuzu said, following his gaze. “Hey there little guy!”

She brightened, leaning towards it and making little kissy sounds. It cracked open a single big green eye, staring unimpressed at Yuzu’s fingers rubbing together to coax it near. Yuya relaxed. Just a regular cat, then.

The cat yawned, and closed its eye again, not paying any attention to Yuzu’s kissy sounds. She looked disappointed, but the sound of the first bell made her give up.

“What was that about us not being late?” she said, bumping him with her hip and a grin.

“Better start running again,” he said, grinning.

He followed her inside, eyes peeled for any sign of yokai. But yet again...nothing. It was almost eerie, almost worse than the day before his birthday, when he’d seen hundreds of them crammed into the school. Where had they all gone? Or had he suddenly lost his ability to see them?? That wouldn’t have bothered him so much if he wasn’t still convinced that he might get attacked again. Not being able to see it coming...that scared him.

But no matter how hard he looked, he didn’t see hide nor hair of a yokai, not so much as a walking cup hidden between the legs of students flooding towards their classrooms. Suspicion settled into his bones as he slid into his seat behind Yuzu, biting his lip. Something was definitely up. Something had changed yesterday, and he needed to know what.

“All right, everyone, settle in,” Fudo-sensei called. “Class rep, please get us started.”

“Stand! Bow!”

Yuya stood jerkily, bowed stiffly, and flopped back into his chair. He continued to flick his eyes around the classroom, looking for any sign of yokai. He started to wonder about Michio. Was he actually okay? Maybe he shouldn’t have left him there with Reiji...after all, Reiji was....Reiji was a yokai. His stomach turned uncertainly at the thought. But...but Reiji had saved him, too. So were the yokai trying to hurt him, or not? Ugh! It was too much to think about!

“Before we get started, everyone, I have an announcement to make,” Fudo-sensei said, tapping his papers on his desk and setting them aside. “I know it’s a bit of a strange time of year for this, but we actually have a transfer student.”

Immediately, the whole class sat up straighter, a clear interest sparking through the room. Yuya, however, tensed. The last thing he needed right now was a surprise...

“You can come in, now,” Fudo-sensei called, turning to the chalkboard to write the student’s name.

The classroom door slid open. If the class weren’t sitting up straight before, they certainly were now — and Yuya’s mouth dropped open.

Reiji walked into the room — no, it was more like he glided, moving so elegantly it was as though he didn’t quite touch the ground. The school uniform looked odd on him; Yuya was so used to seeing him in a kimono. And yet, it fit him well. He turned to face the class beside where Fudo-sensei had written his name on the chalkboard.

Yuya could barely breathe. His ears rang, and he barely heard Fudo-sensei introducing the new student. The only thing that brought him back to himself was Reiji’s voice, the same calm tones as ever, proving to him that he wasn’t imagining this scenario.

“I am Akaba Reiji,” he said, his voice soft and yet carrying easily. “I lived here many years ago, but had to move way for my family’s business. I’m glad to be back.”

Two girls in front of Yuzu were already leaning across to each other, whispering something that was likely a comment on how attractive Reiji was. One boy sighed, slumping forward in his seat — obviously, he’d been hoping the new student would be a girl.

“Akaba-san, you can sit...ah, back there,” Fudo-sensei said. “There’s a spot open near the window.”

Yuya wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not by the fact that there were already people sitting on both sides of him. But he watched as Reiji walked back to the same row as Yuya, sliding into the seat at the far back corner near the window. He was only two seats away from Yuya.

Reiji did not lift his eyes to meet Yuya’s gaze, or let Yuya know in any way that he knew he was there. A brief spurt of frustration overtook him. What was he doing ? What was he doing here?? And if he was here for Yuya, then why wouldn’t he even look at him?

Yuya didn’t process a single word of class that day. He kept shooting Reiji looks, hidden behind his book from Fudo-sensei. But Reiji didn’t look back, or if he did, it was never when Yuya was looking at him. In fact, he seemed quite interested in doing his schoolwork, paying rapt attention to Fudo-sensei, even taking notes. He even answered a few questions during class.

It was so weird that Yuya felt like he was in another dimension. Even before he’d know Reiji was a yokai, he remembered him as...as well, an anachronism. Someone that didn’t quite belong to this time and place, who blended in more with remnants of another time than he did with the modern world, who lived in a separate world from Yuya. Watching him blend into this one felt...strange.

He had to talk to him. He had to find out what was going on. It was burning him up inside, seeing him so close, and yet too far away to give him answers.

When Fudo-sensei finally wrapped up for lunch, it took everything Yuya had not to spring out of his chair like a cannon ball to shoot at Reiji. Luckily for his attempts to avoid arousing Yuzu’s suspicions, a group of girls got to Reiji first.

His table was immediately surrounded by a small cluster of girls, all of them asking questions at once, their words tumbling over each other like water over pebbles in a stream. Yuya could barely hear the soft, polite answers Reiji gave in return. 

“Yuya? Did you forget your lunch again?”

Yuya jumped, startled by Yuzu’s voice, and the sound of her desk as she turned it to push it against Yuya’s.

“H-huh?” Yuya said, eyes flickering away from Reiji’s desk.

Yuzu looked him up and down for a minute, lips pursed. Then she raised her eyebrows, a smirk twitching at the ends of her lips.

“Oh?” she said in a sing-song voice. “Did someone fall in love at first sight with the mysterious transfer student?”

“I did not, ” Yuya protested, flushing.

“Oh, come on, I can’t blame you,” she said, sliding into her seat. “He’s cute. Your type, too. Plus, it’s super romantic, isn’t it, the whole concept of a surprise transfer student?”

“Cut it out,” Yuya groaned, pressing his head to his desk. Normally, he wouldn’t mind Yuzu’s teasing — he’d be sure to tease her back, even. But right now, everything was way too mixed up.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” she said, ruffling his hair. “You should go get yourself in there, introduce yourself!”

“You suck,” he said, and she laughed.

He turned his head up on the desk, though, glancing over towards Reiji. He sat up, surprised, as he realized that Reiji had just extracted himself from the group.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said. “I must make use of the restroom.”

And at that moment, his eyes lifted up, and met Yuya’s for the first time that day. Instantly, Yuya knew — Reiji was asking him to go and meet him. He stood almost too quickly.

“What’s up?” Yuzu asked, looking up with her chopsticks in her mouth as she unwrapped her bento.

“Bathroom,” he said. “Sorry. Be back.”

“Wow, must be an emergency. Go for it.”

He waved a hand at her and hurried to the door.

Reiji had already made his way out into the hallway, and as he turned, he saw a flicker of Reiji’s hair disappearing around the corner. Yuya scurried after him — and nearly smacked into someone coming around the other direction.

“Oh, careful there! Watch your step.”

A hand snagged his elbow, righting him before he fell over. He smiled gratefully, turning towards them — and for just a second, he almost screamed.

Michio smiled pleasantly, but clearly confused, at him.

“Sakaki-san? You all right?” he said.

Yuya’s panic subsided. That was Michio’s voice. His real voice. He looked...right. Yuya couldn’t tell exactly what it was that relieved him, but he could somehow tell that he was Michio, the real one, this time. He was actually okay. Reiji had told the truth.

“Sorry,” he said. “Bathroom.”

“Oh! Don’t let me keep you,” Michio said, laughing as he held up a hand.

Yuya smiled thankfully, and hurried past him, following where he’d seen Reiji disappear around the corner.

Reiji stood in the landing at the end of the stairs, leaning against the wall under the window. His eyes were already lifted to Yuya’s, meeting his gaze the moment he was in view.

For a moment, Yuya hesitated. Out here in the halls, it was just the two of them...sure there were a few students, like Michio, who were going off to other classrooms to visit their friends for lunch break. They weren’t totally alone. But it felt...secluded, to meet him on the stairwell like this. Was it safe?

He swallowed. Reiji had saved him. If he’d wanted to hurt him, he’d had the chance.

And Yuya wanted answers.

He descended the stairs, meeting Reiji at the bottom. For a moment, they only looked at each other, as though waiting for the other to speak. Yuya broke first.

“So?” he blurted. “What are you doing in my classroom? And what happened yesterday? What’s going on? And where are all the yokai? And —”

A faint smile twitched at Reiji’s lips, and that small expression drained the tension from between them. Reiji seemed to relax. He fixed his glasses with one finger, and leaned back against the wall.

“I can only answer one question at a time, you know,” he said.

Yuya puffed out his cheeks. But Reiji was right. What was the most important question to ask, even?

The words slipped out of him before he could think about it.

“Where have you been?” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Where did you go? And why are you back?”

Reiji looked down at the floor, pensive. After a beat, he beckoned Yuya closer. Yuya hesitated, then closed the distance, turning to stand against the wall next to him.

“I had...things I needed to attend to,” he said. “They took longer than expected. I planned to be back long before your seventeenth birthday.”

“Things...that had to do with me?” Yuya asked.

Reiji’s jaw tightened. Then he nodded. Yuya had a feeling he wasn’t going to get a straight answer on this one, so he changed tactics.

“Okay, then, what are you doing here, in my classroom?” Yuya said. “Are you even — you’re older than me, right? Are you even high school age?”

That brought a smile to Reiji’s lips.

“I am older than you, yes,” he said. “By a yokai’s reckoning of time, however, it is not by much. I don’t know that I understand a human’s concept of age enough to tell you exactly how old I would be in your years.”

Yuya frowned, not entirely sure how to interpret that. But then, if he wasn’t human, it would make sense that his concept of time and age would be different than Yuya’s. Reiji inhaled before he spoke next.

“But I am here,” he said, “to protect you.”

Yuya bit his lip. His stomach twisted.

“From...from what?” he whispered.

Reiji looked down at the floor. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

“You have been born to an unfortunate birthright,” he said. “You are what we yokai would refer to as...the yokai’s bride.”

Yuya blinked. He shoot Reiji a look, brow furrowing.

“‘Bride’?” he repeated. “I’m a guy, you know.”

Reiji chuckled.

“Indeed,” he said. “I remember you were very quick to assure me of that fact the first time we met.”

That brought a little blush to Yuya’s cheeks. That’s right. He would have just come out as a boy around the time he remembered first meeting Reiji. His mom loved to tease him about how loud he’d been about it, and how quick he’d been to announce it to any new person he met, even strangers.  He’d probably done the same to Reiji during their first meeting. Reiji cleared his throat, fixing his glasses before continuing.

“It’s a poor translation from our language. ‘Groom’, perhaps, would be more appropriate to you in particular. But you have not been the only one, and so the term ‘bride’ has stuck over the years.”

He glanced at Yuya out of the corner of his eye, holding his gaze despite not looking directly at him.

“Every hundred generations, a human is born with the power of sight,” he said. “They are unique, for they are born to families with no history of psychic powers, no exorcist bloodline. That child is known as the yokai’s bride.”

His lips tightened, and he looked forward again. Yuya continued to watch him, though, transfixed by the sight of his face in profile. This close, it was surprising how human he looked — and yet, something about him...seemed as though it layered against the world differently. Made him look slightly off center, somehow.

“The yokai’s bride is a powerful soul,” Reiji continued. “They can see the yokai, and they attract them. But more importantly...”

His jaw tightened, and Yuya’s heart clenched, as though he could sense what would come next.

“The bride promises power to yokai,” Reiji said. “To the yokai that consumes the bride and drinks their blood...they will gain eternal life, and power beyond imagining.”

The horrible memory of Michio’s not-right voice, his too long teeth, the feeling of his own blood against his fingers, assaulted Yuya. He had to press a hand to his mouth against the sudden wash of nausea.

“And...and that’s me?” he whispered. “I’m that...that bride?”

He felt sick.

“But — but if that’s true, why have the yokai never tried to eat me before?” he demanded.

“Because you weren’t...” Reiji said, and then he looked a bit uncomfortable, “well, for lack of a better word, you weren’t...ripe.”

Yuya stared at him, and Reiji coughed into his hand, clearly just as perturbed by the use of the word as Yuya was.

“Your power peaks at the age of seventeen,” he said. “Before that time, eating you would provide no particular benefit compared to eating any other human.  But on your seventeenth birthday, your scent becomes overpowering. It attracts yokai from across the land.”

Yuya sucked in a breath. Then that meant...now...

“They’re going to keep trying to eat me?” he said, voice cracking. “For...for what? For the rest of my life?”

Reiji shook his head quickly.

“No,” he said. “There is a time limit. On your eighteenth birthday, your power expires. You can live a normal life after that.”

Yuya’s heart slowed, but only a bit. A year ? He had to live a year of...of yokai trying to murder him?

“Yuya,” Reiji said, his calm voice bringing Yuya back to himself, slowing his breaths. “I told you, didn’t I?”

He turned to face Yuya, now, eyes holding his.

“I am here to protect you,” he said. “I will not allow you to come to harm.”

Yuya stared up into Reiji’s eyes, lips parted. There was...truth in his eyes. There was conviction. There was a tremor of promise in his voice, and Yuya was reminded again of what he’d said: that he always kept his promises. 

And that reminded him of a different promise they had made.

A faint blush rose to his cheeks, he swallowed before asking his next question.

“If I’m something the yokai want to eat,” he said, “then why am I called a bride ?”

 Was it his imagination, or did a faint blush dust over Reiji’s cheeks? At any rate, Reiji looked away from him, fixing his glasses again.

“The yokai’s bride can offer power in other ways,” he said. “While to less powerful yokai, your blood is a fast track to evolution, those who are already quite powerful seek something else.  To higher-ranked yokai, the bride is a potential source of power and prosperity to their clan as a whole...through, well, marriage. The heads of the clans will begin to compete to claim your hand.”

Yuya opened his mouth, but the next question wouldn’t leave him. Heat burned over his cheeks, and he looked at the ground. He thought about it again — the promise they’d made. Reiji had asked Yuya to marry him. Had he known, back then, what Yuya was? Was Reiji the head of a clan? Yuya couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember if he’d ever known if Reiji was a yokai. Had the promise they made...had Reiji been simply trying to be the first to claim him, then? Was that why he was here now? For some reason, the thought that Yuya might be nothing more than a useful pawn to Reiji...it made his stomach twist. It made him...upset.

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He could figure out how to say it, without sounding accusing. So what do I mean to you? It was a question that was impossible to let out. He shook his head.

“So, basically, you mean...” he said. “For the next year, I’m going to be hunted for food, and targeted for marriage proposals?”

“At the most basic retelling of events, yes,” Reiji said. “That is indeed what is going to happen.”

Yuya couldn’t lift his eyes to meet Reiji’s. He could only stare at the floor, mind spinning. There was only so much information someone could take at once, and he was pretty sure he was nearing capacity. So yesterday had just been the start of it, had it?

“S-so how does it end?” he said. “This whole...thing, I mean.”

“There are several options,” Reiji said. “If you are eaten, clearly, the game is over. If you agree to a marriage proposal, and perform a ceremony with your chosen spouse, your power binds to your chosen clan, and thus eating you once again provides no further benefit - not to mention, targeting you draws the attention of an entire powerful clan on the would-be attacker's head."

He fixed his glasses, and inhaled.

"Or...you make it to your eighteenth birthday.”

Yuya lifted his eyes back to Reiji, but Reiji’s gaze seemed far away.

“When you turn eighteen, your power leaves you,” Reiji said. “You lose your scent, the power that the yokai can gain from you, and...your sight. You will no longer see the yokai.”

Yuya’s lips parted. He’d...lose his sight?

He would have thought the idea would cheer him — he’d been stressed out by yokai for as long as he could remember. But somehow...looking up at Reiji...

The thought made him...sort of melancholy.

Yuya swallowed, eyes still holding Reiji’s, willing him to return to himself to meet Yuya’s eyes head on. He...he head had to know. Was Reiji only here because...because of the power that Yuya promised to him, and his clan? Was that the only reason they’d ever been friends? Had Yuya been the only one to remember their friendship with fondness — to even remember their silly, childhood promise with some happiness?

He swallowed. He cleared his throat.

“I...the promise we made,” he said. “When we were kids.”

Reiji’s eyes softened. Yuya thought he saw his hands twitch, as though he were about to reach for Yuya and then had decided against it. Yuya swallowed and tried again.

“Did you know? Back then?” he said. “Is that why you...asked?”

This time, Reiji did not break Yuya’s gaze.

“I knew,” he said softly. “It was the initial reason my family moved us to that house. To be near you.”

Yuya’s stomach twisted, and he felt like throwing up. It was true, then. Reiji was here, to protect him...but only because of what he was. Then Reiji’s face softened with a small smile.

“I shouldn’t have asked you, back then,” he said. “It was the impulse of a child. I was afraid, then, that without such a promise, perhaps you would forget me.”

Yuya hesitated, lips parting. His eyes darted up to Reiji.

“I do not expect to hold you to a promise made when we were both children,” Reiji said. “When you did not know what you wanted. I apologize for holding such a promise over you all these years.”

“No, that’s...that’s not really what I meant,” Yuya said, though suddenly, he wasn’t sure what he meant. “If you’re not here to, uh, get to me first, then...why are you here? Why go to all this trouble?”

Reiji’s whole face softened. There was something in his eyes that Yuya could not interpret. And this time, he did reach for Yuya, slowly, gently, his fingers only ghosting over Yuya’s shoulder, briefly hovering near his face before drifting away.

“Because I consider you dear to me,” he said. “And the only thing I want is for you to have the chance to choose your future for yourself.”

A burst of warmth exploded in Yuya’s chest, and he felt it leak up into his cheeks. He looked away, quickly, not sure he had the mental fortitude to face those eyes head on after saying something like that so easily.

Was...was that the truth? Somehow, Yuya felt like it was. It felt right. And...well, he didn’t remember Reiji being the type to lie about things like this. Could it be, that all these years he was wondering what had happened to Reiji, wondering if he would come back...had Reiji been thinking of him, too?

The bell warning for the end of lunch break sounded, startling Yuya from his thoughts. His eyes broke from Reiji’s gaze as he looked up the stairs.

“So — what now?” he asked quickly. “What happens now?”

“We keep you alive,” Reiji said, and this time, his hand touched Yuya’s shoulder — just the barest, softest touch, that made warmth spread from the contact. “On my life, Yuya...I promise that I will keep you safe.”

Yuya’s cheeks burst with warmth. He — he didn’t know what to say to that. Ducking his head, he mumbled something incoherent even to him, and darted back up the stairs towards class.

He could feel Reiji’s eyes on him, even as he rounded the corner. And the warmth in his chest didn’t fade for what felt like a very long time.

Thirty minutes earlier

Yuzu stared at Yuya’s back as he darted out of the classroom, and her smile faded slowly. She put her chopsticks down on top of her bento.

Yuya wasn’t okay.

She’d noticed it the minute they’d met up yesterday. His smile had been forced. He always thought he could hide it from her, but she knew him too well. Because it was his birthday, she hadn’t pressed, then — she’d just wanted to help distract him from whatever had upset him.

But something was clearly still really, really wrong.

And part of her wondered if it had something to do with that new transfer student.

So, when Yuya left the room just moments after Akaba Reiji did, she counted a few seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty. Unhurried, she stood up, and made her way to the door. She slid it open, peeking out. Students darting into other classrooms, chatter echoing from nearby rooms as friends from other classes met up. When she glanced down the other way, she Michio, coming her way. Hadn’t Yuya been trying to meet with him, earlier?

“Hey, Mitchie,” Yuzu said, waving as he drew close. “Where are you headed?”

“Oh, Yuzu,” Michio said, smiling. “Good to see you! I was just going to meet with Teppei for lunch. I had a new fish recipe I wanted him to try.”

He held up his wrapped bento, and Yuzu smiled. Just like the president of the cooking club.

“That’s cool!” she said. “Oh, hey, did you happen to see Yuya?”

“Sakaki? Oh, yeah, he just ran off that way,” Michio said, pointing over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” she said. “By the way, did you ever manage to meet up with him? He said he couldn’t find you yesterday.”

Michio frowned.

“Yesterday? What do you mean?”

Yuzu’s senses shot into overdrive.

“Yuya said you’d asked him to help you with something the other day, but he couldn’t make it cause of his career counseling session,” he said. “So he tried to meet you again yesterday?”

Michio just frowned deeper, his brow furrowing.

“No, I...I don’t remember anything like that. I can’t think of what I might have needed his help with.”

Yuzu’s eyes flickered to the end of the hall, where Michio had said Yuya had gone.

“Huh,” she said, keeping her tone as light as she could despite the creeping dread in her stomach. “Weird. I must have misheard him when he said who he was talking to. Anyway, I won’t keep you. Have a good lunch.”

Michio nodded in response, waving as he headed off. In the meantime, Yuzu headed towards Yuya.

She stopped when she heard voices in the stairwell, hovering at the corner. It echoed just a little bit, but they were talking softly — all she could make out was Yuya’s voice, but not what he was saying. Getting closer would mean being spotted.

She tried peeking around the corner at the very least.

Somehow, she’d expected what she saw: Yuya meeting with the transfer student, Akaba Reiji. The pair of them stood next to each other, leaning against the wall and not really looking at each other while they spoke. Yuya looked...nervous. Concerned. Even worried. Akaba had a passive, neutral expression, though she saw his brows come together once or twice.

She leaned back out of sight, standing with her back to the wall.

So. Yuya was lying to her.

The thought didn’t really upset her. Yuya skipped over the truth with her sometimes, usually about the yokai. He seemed to think she’d be worried if she knew just what he dealt with on a daily basis. But it was more worrying to not know.

Eavesdropping was bad but...well, Yuya should have trusted her more, she thought, clenching her fists. She strained her ears to listen.

“....yokai...”

“....bride?....eat....”

“Promise....”

She couldn’t get more than a handful of tantalizing words, but it was enough to make her stomach tighten. She was right . It was about the yokai. Was he telling Akaba about his power? But why him? He’d just shown up...did he trust him that much already? But how? They’d only just met — 

Her lips parted. The moving trucks. Yuya’s childhood friend. It was hard to remember, — the mysterious boy from the house on the other side of Yuya’s. Yuya had told her about him, but...for some reason, Yuzu herself couldn’t remember meeting him. As though he belonged to some other world that Yuzu couldn’t enter. But if she strained her memory, she could almost recall seeing him, remembered heaving herself over the wall to look into the garden just once. What had he looked like?

She chanced a peek around the corner again, getting a better look at him. Silver hair. Violet eyes. Fair skin.

As she leaned back around the wall, her heart thudding in her chest, she was sure there could be no question about it.

That was the boy from next door. The one Yuya had promised to marry as children, the one he’d never really ever stopped thinking about, despite his protests to the contrary to Yuzu.

But what was he doing back? And why did he know about the yokai?

And why wasn’t Yuya telling her anything?

She retreated to the classroom. She wasn’t likely to hear anything more useful — all she knew for sure...

Yuya was in trouble. She could feel it in her bones. She twisted her bracelet around her wrist, setting her jaw.  Well, whether Yuya wanted her to know or not...she wasn’t about to let him deal with whatever was happening alone.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t like Yuzu had a real plan. How could she do anything about something she couldn’t even see, when Yuya wouldn’t tell her anything? Obviously, the first step was to do some research. Poking around on the Internet, however, yielded her very few leads, and she ended up on the Yokai Watch wiki more than she did on anything of note. She definitely didn’t find a thing about how one might be able to learn how to see the yokai, or much about how to defend yourself from them. It was just all old folktales and pop culture references.

So, after giving it some thought, she decided to visit a shrine.

Maiami City had a shrine in the middle of town, where people tended to go for New Year’s and festivals. But there was an older one a bit more out of the way, less visited. She decided to hit that one first — if there was going to be anyone in the city who might know something about yokai, they’d probably be there.

It took two bus switches and a walk of several blocks for Yuzu to get there, staring at the map on her phone to guide her. But when she found the stone stairs cut into the hill, framed by the distinctive red arch and leading up, up, up onto the forested hill, she knew she’d found the right place.

She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, staring up. What a long way...and the trees were so thick that it was shadowy, almost dark. She touched her bracelet automatically, twisting it around her wrist in her usual nervous motion.

“Come on, Yuzu,” she whispered to herself. “The worst that can happen is that the priest laughs at you when you ask him.”

That’s right. To her, that was the worst that could happen. Yuya had always told her that as long as people couldn’t see the yokai, they couldn’t be harmed by them. He’d told her that he’d seen numerous yokai around her, and she’d never noticed a single one, or been bothered by any of them. 

Still, as she climbed the stairs, a strange hush fell over her, the trees rustling almost silently as their shadows wavered over the path. She felt a prickling on the back of her neck, but whether that was nerves or intuition, she had no idea. She was probably just psyching herself out.

It really did feel like she was stepping into a totally new world, however, when she made it up the last few steps. Even as she tried to catch her breath, she was momentarily caught in place by the site of it — it looked like the world hadn’t changed here for hundreds of years. A perfect, light covering of leaves dappled the stone walk up to the shrine, as though frozen, undisturbed. The shrine was smaller than the main one in town, but it looked new, despite how old she knew it was. It was perfectly maintained, the small building staring back at her as though it were a living thing.

She shivered, hugging herself and looking away. There had to be a priest or something here, right? A shrine maiden, who took care of the place? Someone she could talk to? Beside her, a chozuya sat near the walk, the ladle resting atop the basin of water. The water looked clean and fresh, as though it had just been poured in. She glanced around, and then, after a beat, stepped towards it. She washed her hands, took a small sip from the ladle, and then cleaned the ladle, like her father had taught her to do before visiting the shrine on New Year’s Day as a child. Best not to take chances, she thought, setting the ladle back down.

Properly purified, she set off down the walk. Another small building sat off to the side of the walk; the office, maybe? The board for hanging prayer plaques sat in front of that building, and to her relief, there were some hanging there. So people did visit here. Should she try the office and see if anyone was in?

A foot scratched against the stone behind her, and Yuzu almost screamed.

“What are you doing hanging around out here? The meeting’s inside, you know. Are you new?”

Yuzu whipped around, eyes wide. The person who spoke to her paused, her eyes widening as well. It took Yuzu half a moment to recognize her, though it took Kotsu Masumi a half a second less to recognize Yuzu.

“What are you doing here?” Masumi said, fists rolling up at her sides, back straightening.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Yuzu shot back, her brief panic slowing and being replaced instead with annoyance.

Masumi glowered at her, and Yuzu glowered right back. She hadn’t run into Masumi in several months, and it was only just now that she was realizing just how relaxing that had been. She couldn’t have told anyone where exactly their rivalry had started, but it had been long-lived, starting sometime in the first year they’d had classes together in middle school. Yuzu didn’t remember when Masumi had first challenged her to something, and when she’d first accepted, but their competition had escalated over the years, as the two of them started turning sports festivals into personal competitions, culture festivals into exercises in one-up-manship. This had been the first year they hadn’t been in the same class, and Yuzu had been relishing the quiet.

Masumi folded her arms, huffing.

“I’m supposed to be here,” Masumi said. “You aren’t.”

“It’s a public shrine,” Yuzu said, throwing her hands into the air. “What are you going to do, kick me out? Is it your shrine, or something?”

“Actually, it is ,” Masumi said, with the smirk of someone who just got the upper hand. “This shrine has been maintained by my family for generations.”

“It...has?” Yuzu said, hesitating. 

It was only now that she had processed Masumi’s appearance, and her own annoyance at being scared by it that she...suddenly realized that Masumi was dressed in red hakama and a white hosode — a miko’s uniform.

“You’re a shrine maiden? ” Yuzu said, eyes widening.

“What?” Masumi said. “You have a problem with that?”

“I don’t have a problem with anything you do, Masumi-san,” she said, though privately, she thought Masumi was too rude to be a miko. “You’re the one who seems to have a problem with me, for some reason.”

Masumi scowled at her again. Internally, Yuzu groaned. Of course . Of course she’d come all the way out here looking for answers, only to find that Masumi was the one she’d have to talk to for them. Not that Masumi would know anything about yokai — she’d probably laugh in Yuzu’s face if Yuzu talked about them like they were real. This had all been a waste of her time.

“Well, I just so happen to know that we’re not public today,” she said. “There’s something private going on.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s a sign or anything,” Yuzu said. “How was I supposed to know?”

Masumi opened her mouth, likely to retort, when another soft footfall in the leaves caught both of their attentions, followed by a faint chuckle.

“For all the commotion, I’d almost think there was a problem,” said a voice, and Yuzu turned back towards the stairs.

A tall, sallow-skinned man with a sharp face smiled blandly at the pair of them as he reached the top of the stairs. There was something...off putting about him, Yuzu thought immediately. Something in the way he smiled, in the way it didn’t reach his narrow eyes. He was clearly foreign, European, maybe, blond and speaking Japanese with a faint accent that could have been anything from American to German.

“Oh,” Masumi said, sounding as guarded as Yuzu felt. “Roget-san. I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Good to see you again, Kotsu,” the man said with a faint smile that still didn’t reach his eyes. “And this is...?”

His eyes wandered over to Yuzu, and Yuzu fought the urge to recoil instinctively. Something about him upset her, though she couldn’t put her finger on what.

“No one,” Masumi said. “Just a classmate. She just wandered into see the shrine. I was sending her away.”

“I see,” Roget said, eyes still fixed on Yuzu. She fidgeted uncomfortably, wishing that she’d never come here today. “Well, then. I shall be on my way inside. And perhaps you should be on your way, as well, young lady.”

“You heard him, you’ve got to leave, Hiiragi,” Masumi said, nudging her away with one hand.

Yuzu shot her a glare. But Roget’s eyes flashed suddenly with a faint recognition.

“Hiiragi?” he said, turning back to face her. “Your name is Hiiragi?”

“I...” Yuzu said, shooting Masumi a quick look before looking back at him. “Do...we know each other somehow?”

She forced herself to hold her ground as he approached them, coming to stop in front of them. His eyes were frighteningly intense, as though they were seeing directly inside her soul. She didn’t let her gaze drop, though, not willing to let him intimidate her.

“Hiiragi,” Roget said again, as though jogging his memory. “Ah...you do look something like him, don’t you? Your father wouldn’t be one Hiiragi Shuzo, would he?”

Yuzu’s eyes widened.

“You — how do you know my dad?” she said.

Masumi shot her a confused look, glancing between her and Roget. Clearly, she was as startled and uncertain about Roget’s knowledge as Yuzu was.

“The Hiiragi family used to be quite...involved here,” Roget said, smiling slowly. “They were among one of the most prominent families in this area.”

Masumi’s eyes widened, staring only at Yuzu now. But Yuzu was as confused as she’d been before.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.”

His smile deepened.

“Ah,” he said. “Understandable. He likely hasn’t told you anything — I do seem to recall your father leaving the family quite young. He had no gift, you see.”

He tilted his head at her, eyes suddenly very cold and calculating, though his smile remained.

“I wonder if it passed to you, instead.”

Yuzu wanted to bolt. She didn’t know what was going on, but she didn’t like the way he was looking at her, and her head was spinning. She wanted to know why Masumi was staring at her open-mouthed, as though she’d suddenly realized something that Yuzu herself didn’t understand.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yuzu said.

“My apologies,” Roget said. “I’m talking around the question, aren’t I? I’m speaking of exorcism, Hiiragi-san.”

He smiled at her with that cool calculating gaze. Her mouth dropped open, staring back at him. ...exorcism?

“You’re...messing with me,” she said. “Exorcism isn’t real.”

“It is very real, though it is a gift given to very few,” Roget said. “Interesting. You have no idea...and yet you’ve arrived to this place, on this day...perhaps it was fate that you were to be here?”

Yuzu glanced at Masumi, who was still looking as shell-shocked as Yuzu felt.

She swallowed, and took a step back.

“No,” she said quietly. “I think it was just a coincidence.”

She bowed, no more than a bob of her head to both of them, and turned towards the stairs, walking as quickly as she could. She hadn’t actually excused herself, she realized, but she needed to get out of there. She had to leave.

She was running down the stairs as soon as she was out of sight, running down the street, still running as she passed her first bus stop and kept going.

Exorcism? she thought, heart hammering in her chest. Dad...what haven’t you told me?

It made sense, now, Yuya thought, as he stood at the end of the walk up to Reiji’s house, why this house looked so out of place. For beings that lived so long, humans must seem to move too fast for them. Old, traditional things were familiar and comforting in a sea of modern that changed so quickly, a memory of days, perhaps, when there were fewer cities, more space for yokai to roam.

Yuya shifted from foot to foot, clutching the container of casserole that his mom had insisted he bring over if he was going to greet the new neighbors. He was just glad she had gotten busy and couldn’t come with him — he wasn’t sure he could handle his mom getting involved in all of this just yet. 

Half of him considered turning around and going back home, telling her that no one had been home. Everything he and Reiji had talked about still clattered around in his head. He could still hardly wrap his head around all of it.

The soft pat pat of feet caught his attention, and he looked up. On the low wall along the road that surrounded the house sat a large black cat, probably having jumped down from a nearby tree. It stared at him with big green eyes, and it looked kind of familiar. Had he seen it around somewhere before...

His thoughts trailed off as his eyes were drawn to the soft swishing movement of the cat’s tails — tails. Plural. It had two tails.

Yuya jolted back. A yokai! Was it going to attack him?

The cat yawned. It leaped off the wall, briefly disappearing. A moment later, someone stood up from behind the wall, leaning her elbows against it and resting her head on her hand.

“Are you going to go in?” she asked, green eyes still as bright as a cat’s. “It’d be great if you did. I’ve been getting bored having to babysit you all day.”

Yuya’s jaw dropped, and he took a big step back, nearly dropping his plate of casserole. There was little doubt that this girl was the yokai cat he’d seen just a moment ago. Her hair was the same dark blue-black, held in a ponytail with a bright yellow ribbon, and her pupils were still thin slits, inhuman and strange.

Yuya tensed, the memory of Michio flashing over his mind. Was she going to attack him? Had she been following him?

“Selena. You’re worrying him.”

The voice came from a figure that definitely hadn’t been there a second ago. Yuya yelped, once again nearly dropping his container. The figure turned towards him, silent and eerie. They were clad in a long, dark blue kimono and haori, a large wide hat on their head that was lined with a veil covering their face. There was little doubt that they, too, were a yokai. The yokai cat girl snorted.

“Look who’s scaring him now, looking like a damn ghost,” she said, pushing off from the wall. “Look, kid. If you want to see Reiji, go on in.”

Yuya hesitated again, staring at the two of them.

“Are you...here with Reiji?” he asked.

The person in the veil bowed.

“We are retainers of his household,” they said. “He has been expecting you, Sakaki Yuya-dono. Please, come in.”

The cat girl folded her arms, nodding her head towards the door. Yuya eyed them a moment longer. Then, reluctantly, he followed the veiled yokai up the walk and to the door. A second veiled yokai, this one wearing a dark red kimono, waited by the door. They bowed, and slid the door open for Yuya.

“Sakaki Yuya has arrived, Reiji-dono,” the blue-robed yokai called as he walked in ahead of Yuya. Yuya glanced nervously back at the red-robed yokai, who fell into step behind Yuya, essentially boxing him in.

Once they were inside the foyer with the doors closed behind them, though, both seemed to relax. The blue-robed yokai reached up and removed his hat and veil, revealing an elegant face and dark blue hair in a ponytail — as well as a pair of fox’s ears sticking out of his head.

His face was noticeably less human than Reiji’s, even when Reiji was in his half yokai form. The yokai’s face was long, a little too long, fox-like in proportions, and his eyes were a bright, too pure blue. And now that Yuya knew what he was looking, he realized that the faint bulge at the back of the yokai’s kimono must be hiding at least one fox’s tail. The red-robed yokai removed his hat and veil as well, revealing a nearly identical face, save for his reddish brown hair and bright brown eyes. Were they twins?

Yuya relaxed when Reiji appeared from a nearby door. He was once again clad in his gray kimono, looking far more at home in it than he had in the school uniform.

“Thank you, Tsukikage, Hikage,” he said. “And Selena?”

“Likely wandered off, now that Sakaki Yuya is safely within the house,” the blue-robed yokai said.

“Oy, I’m right here,” called the yokai cat from the doorway.

Reiji let out a very faint sigh.

“Thank you,” he said, and turned to Yuya, his face softening. “And thank you, Yuya, for coming to visit. I had worried you might decide to keep your distance, after all that has happened.”

“I mean, I did say I’d come visit you to catch up,” Yuya said, ducking his head. “Oh, uh — my mom made me bring this. You don’t have to eat it.”

He thrust the container of casserole towards Reiji, who blinked. Then a faint smile ghosted over his lips, and he nodded, accepting it. He handed it off to the red-robed yokai and the yokai bowed his head, disappearing through another door.

“Thank her for me,” she said. “Come, we can sit in the next room.”

Yuya followed him down the hall. It looked exactly as he thought it would inside — tatami mats in the side rooms, sliding paper doors, bare wooden hallways. Reiji led them to a small room open to the porch and garden out back, chimes hanging from the entrance and jingling softly in the breeze. A low table with cushions around it sat in the middle. 

Reiji waited for Yuya to sit down before he settled onto a cushion across from him. He tucked his hands into his sleeves. After a beat, as though he were letting out a breath, he sighed and from his hair sprouted his sharp gray ears, his large mass of tails unfolding behind him. Yuya watched with fascination. He didn’t notice Reiji’s body shifting so much as it just seemed to let go of its disguise, like a breeze had flicked it away.

“Is that more comfortable for you?” he asked. “That form, I mean.”

Reiji glanced up at him with surprise, and then, as though he hadn’t noticed he’d changed, reached back to touch one of his tails. Yuya tried to count them, but they kept swishing, and some were curled behind him. He had to have at least six, though, maybe more. 

“Yes,” Reiji said. “When I am in your world, it feels the most natural. My human face is...well, it’s akin to having to hold a mask onto your face with your hands all day. Possible, but eventually tiring.”

His true form...Yuya hadn’t really thought about it, but if Reiji was a yokai, this shape probably wasn’t what he really looked like. What was he, really? It didn’t seem like a polite question to ask.

“I am a kitsune,” Reiji said, as though in answer to the question Yuya hadn’t asked. “Someday, I will show you what I truly look like. In your world, however it takes quite a bit of energy to transform.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay!” Yuya said quickly. “I don’t mind. I guess I was just curious”

A kitsune, though...maybe Yuya should have done some research on yokai. He only knew that that meant Reiji was a fox yokai. He thought there was something important about the number of tails, as well, but he wasn’t sure.

“Who was that cat, then?” Yuya asked. “Um. I mean. You’re the...the head of the kitsune, right? That’s why you...”

That’s why you’re one of the ones who can try to marry me , he couldn’t quite say out loud. It was still too embarrassing, and too weird.

Reiji nodded with a faint smile.

“I am,” he said. “As the head of a clan, I am one of those who has the right to challenge for your hand. But, as I was the first person to find you...the other clans will have to challenge me first.”

So that was how it worked? Yuya wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of a bunch of strangers fighting over him — but at least it was a little less upsetting than thinking about getting eaten.

“As for Selena, you are correct. She is not a kitsune, and not officially a member of my clan,” he said. “She is a nekomata. However, for reasons of her own, she has agreed to assist me, and so she stays here.”

He looked apologetic, tucking his hands back into his sleeves.

“I apologize for sending her to follow you. I knew I would not be able to watch over you myself at the time, and I wanted to protect you from any more surprise attacks.”

“She did kind of scare me,” Yuya admitted. “But I guess that’s better than getting eaten, so I’ll let it slide this time.”

Reiji smiled faintly, eyes softening, and it made Yuya feel funny in his stomach.

He frowned then, suddenly realizing where he’d seen Selena before. That cat at school...but Yuzu had been able to see it. Could Selena make herself seen to humans, like Reiji? He wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure if it mattered, so he let it go.

“Are there any other yokai around that I should know are okay?” he said, trying to keep his voice joking. “I’d hate to accidentally punch one of your friends.”

Reiji let out a breathy laugh that sounded more fox than human. It was kind of cute, actually.

“There are a few others I’ve brought along with me,” he said. “You met Tsukikage and Hikage outside. Both of them are kitsune as well, but they struggle more with keeping human shapes, thus the veils.”

He hummed, tilting his head as though making a mental head count.

“Then there is also...”

One of the sliding doors slammed open, and Yuya jumped.

“Is he here? Is that him? Why didn’t you say he was here, Reiji!”

A small, blurred shape bolted into the room, and before Yuya could do more than gape, hopped onto Yuya’s shoulders, arms latching around him. Yuya nearly panicked, if not for the long-suffering expression that suddenly crossed Reiji’s face.

“Sora,” he said, with an extremely tired voice. “Would you please consider not choking him to death?”

“What? But I’m just saying hello!” the voice called Sora said.

His face was so close to Yuya’s that Yuya could barely tell what he looked like, save for his big, bright green eyes.

“Oy, oy, oy, don’t you put your hands all over him like that! Reiji will eat you, you know!”

“He’ll eat you first, Sawatari,” Sora shot back, but he finally let go of Yuya, bouncing instead to sit on top of the table.

Sora looked like a small, fair skinned boy, with bright green eyes and candy-blue hair. He, too, wore a kimono and haori, as blue as his hair. It was quite obvious that he wasn’t human, however, because aside from the slit pupils of his eyes, there was a big white horn curving straight out of his forehead.

The second voice belonged to a yokai who looked like he was around Yuya’s age, brown hair with blond bangs swooped over his eyes. Unlike Sora and Reiji, he did not wear a kimono, dressed instead in modern clothes with a button up shirt and loose slacks. At first, it was difficult to recognize him as a yokai, until Yuya noticed the small rounded animal ears poking out of his hair and the thick fuzzy tail that swished behind him — and his particularly long, sharp nails.

The brown haired yokai hummed as he marched across the room, leaning down and shoving his face inches from Yuya’s. Yuya leaned back with surprise, but the yokai boy only leaned forward even further, so that they were inches apart. His eyes roved over Yuya with an expression that Yuya could only describe as appraising.

“Now who’s getting all up in his space,” Sora said.

“Hmph,” said Sawatari, standing up and folding his arms. “He’s skinny. Not at all as impressive as I thought the bride would be!”

“Sawatari, Sora, that’s enough from both of you,” Reiji said, in an exhausted voice that made it clear that dealing with them was a daily drudgery.

Sora giggled, rolling onto his stomach to lay across the table with his legs kicking back and forth, resting his head on his hands so he could watch Yuya more easily.

“As I was about to say,” Reiji said patiently. “A few others of my household have come along with me as well. This is Shiunin Sora, and Sawatari Shingo.”

“Uh, I’m Sakaki Yuya,” Yuya said, trying to get his head screwed back on from the shock.

“We know,” Sora said, grinning. “You’re basically all Reiji’s thought about for years .”

“After all this excitement, I certainly thought you’d be more interesting,” Sawatari sniffed. “You’re supposed to be full of power for the yokai? I can’t believe it. You don’t even smell all that good.”

“Um, I think that’s...good? For me, at least?” Yuya said. "It means you won't eat me?"

Sawatari gave him the most offended look Yuya had ever seen on anyone, as though he were horrified by the idea that someone might think he was desperate enough to eat Yuya. Somehow, it was annoying.  He glanced between the two of them, confused — it was obvious neither of them were kitsune, either. Was it rude to ask?

“Sora and Sawatari are two other yokai who have come to stay with me for reasons of their own,” Reiji said. “Sora is an oni. Sawatari is a kamaitachi.”

An ogre and a sickle weasel, Yuya remembered. Neither were the kind of yokai he would immediately consider benevolent, so he glanced at them with just the briefest spurt of nervousness.

Sora seemed to have been distracted by the casserole dish on the table, jumping off so that he could lean in and stare at it. He tapped the lid with one finger. Sawatari still just hmphed at him, looking for all the world like a self-important teenager more than a yokai. Well, Yuya thought, slowly relaxing. If they were Reiji’s friends, they must be safe.

“There is one other here, though I believe he is out,” Reiji said, looking at Sawatari as though for confirmation.

“Dennis? Yes, he’s gone,” Sawatari said, wrinkling his nose. “Out playing tricks on the locals, I’d imagine.”

Reiji sighed.

“Dennis is another kitsune,” he explained to Yuya. “You should meet him later, I hope.”

“I guess I’ll look forward to that, then,” Yuya said, smiling. “This feels...kinda weird for me, actually?  I’m not used to not having to pretend I don’t see yokai.”

Reiji chuckled softly.

“I think you would have a hard time ignoring this motley crew,” he said.

“Hey! I resemble that remark,” Sora said, still fascinated by the casserole dish.  He seemed to be trying to figure out how to take the lid off.

Sawatari rolled his eyes, and Reiji chuckled. Yuya couldn’t help but smile. There was something...light about the way Reiji interacted with them. As though he were more relaxed than usual. They must be good friends, despite their needling. Somehow, that made Yuya feel warm to think that Reiji hadn’t been alone all this time.

The door opened silently, and Tsukikage’s face appeared, fox ears twitching.

“Reiji-dono,” he said. “There is a messenger at the door for you.”

Reiji frowned, brow furrowing.

“Is it important?”

“I believe it is, Reiji-dono.”

Reiji sighed. His ears folded back against his head in annoyance.

“I’ll be right back,” he said to Yuya, rising. “Sawatari. Sora. Do not antagonize him.”

“Yessir,” Sora said, saluting.

Sawatari only harumphed, but his ears folded back against his head when Reiji shot him a sharp look. Yuya bit his lip as he watched Reiji disappear through the door. A messenger, huh? He wondered what it was about.

“I think Reiji is too nice,” Sawatari said, drawing Yuya’s attention back to the room. “He ought to get you to marry him right now. It’s for the best for the clan — the clan heads rarely find the bride so quickly!”

“He must really like you,” Sora said. He’d gotten the casserole dish open, and was poking at the food and sniffing at it experimentally. “Reiji always does whatever he thinks is best for the clan, even if he doesn’t like it. But he didn't force you. That's interesting.”

“That’s why he ought to take hold of this chance, before the other clan heads can declare a challenge,” Sawatari said, pointing into the air as though it were responsible for this. “Once they lay a challenge, Reiji can’t perform the ceremony until he wins. It’s preposterous!”

He jabbed his finger into Yuya’s face, then, and Yuya leaned back, away from his very sharp, talon-like nails.

“Just what is so special about you?” he demanded. “That would make Reiji act so irresponsibly!”

“I...” Yuya said, leaning back. “I don’t know, okay. We were friends when we were kids...”

“And why not just marry him now, then?” Sora asked. He scooped out a handful of casserole with his bare hands, and stuffed it into his mouth. His eyes lit up, and he grabbed another handful, eyes half closing in delight. He continued to talk as though his mouth weren’t full. “I mean, it’s gotta be easier than just trying to survive for a whole year, right? And Reiji might lose a challenge. The other clan heads might not be so nice.”

Yuya hadn’t even thought of that. He squirmed uncomfortable, hands pressed into his lap.

“I just...” he said. “I don’t think you guys would really get it — for humans, marriage is...it’s really, really big. I’m still...I’m not much more than a kid.”

“So?” Sora said, blinking at him.

He grimaced.

“I told you you wouldn’t get it,” he said. “Humans aren’t like yokai.”

“Well, of course, I could have told you that ,” Sora scoffed. He picked up the casserole dish with both hands and tipped it towards his face, making loud munching sounds as he buried his whole face in the food.

Sawatari glowered at Yuya again, and Yuya tried not to think about almost being eaten. They had sort of a point...it would be safer for him to just marry Reiji now, rather than hope he made it to his next birthday. It was unfair to ask Reiji to protect him for nothing in return, when what Reiji really needed was to take care of his clan.

But...he bit his lip. He felt like...it might be more unfair to marry Reiji just for his own protection. If he was going to marry someone he...he wanted it to be because he wanted to be with them forever. The thought of doing that to Reiji, to marry him without knowing for sure if Yuya felt that way towards him...he didn’t want to hurt Reiji like that.

“I just need some more time to think about it,” Yuya said quietly.

“Well you might not have much more,” Sawatari said darkly. “It’s only a matter of time before the clans realize you’ve been awoken, and set up a gathering.”

“Unfortunately, that time has run out.”

Yuya sat straight up, Reiji appearing in the doorway. His jaw was set, expression grim. His tails bushed out behind him, undulating in a wave of silver fur.

“What’s wrong?” Yuya asked.

Reiji pressed his lips together, looking at Yuya with a faint glimmer of...regret?

“The clans have noticed your awakening,” he said. “A meeting has been called.”

“I told you,” Sawatari said, throwing his hands into the air.

“What does that mean?” Yuya asked, his heart picking up.

“It means: the shitstorm is about to start,” Sora said.

Reiji gave Sora a look, raising his eyebrows. He shook his head, then with a sigh.

“That may be the most precise way to put it,” he said. “What it means, Yuya, is that the clans know you have awakened. They are getting ready to make their claims for you.”

Yuya’s stomach twisted, and in response to his unspoken words, Reiji nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “This is where the hard part begins.”

Chapter Text

Yuzu knew that hiding in her room was the fastest way to draw her dad’s attention, but she couldn’t bring herself to act normal for the time it would take to announce she was home, fake small talk, and then excuse herself upstairs. She needed somewhere to hide, somewhere to still the tangled thoughts that still rattled in her head and regain some semblance of calm.

So she didn’t say anything in response to her father’s cheery greeting from the down the hall, slipped out of her shoes, and hurried upstairs as fast as she could, closing her door behind her.

She didn’t even bother turning on the lights. She just pressed into the wood of her door, feeling at the grains with her fingertips, and stared into the gloomy darkness. Her bag slowly slid off her shoulder, and she let it fall to the floor.

Her heart hummed in her chest, still beating so fast even after the long bus ride back. She could barely think past the thoughts that continued to play on repeat in her head.

The shrine. The man called Roget. The Hiiragi family was a family of exorcists . And most importantly, the shocked, almost mortified look on Masumi’s face, a look that Yuzu knew Masumi well enough to interpret.

Whatever Roget had said, it had meant something to Masumi. Which meant that there was some truth in it.

Yuzu began to spin her bracelet around her wrist, over and over again — a nervous tic she’d picked up years ago and never let go of. This bracelet...she’d had it for so long. All she remembered was her father saying that her mother left it to her, and she’d never taken it off since. Odd, though...how she’d never really thought about it...

“Yuzu? Is everything all right??”

Right on cue. Yuzu sucked in a steadying breath. But what to say? What could she say that would deflect her father’s suspicions? How could she get him off her back before he started to panic and called the fire department to break down her door?

Or...

Hadn’t...Roget known her father’s name? He’d said something about him leaving the family because...

Before she could think about it, Yuzu turned and opened the door. Her father was in mid knock, and had to quickly right himself before he accidentally flailed his hand into Yuzu’s head. He looked so worried, and she felt a twinge of guilt. 

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” he asked, stepping forward, arms outstretched for a hug, but clearly resisting the urge to simply envelop her right there.  “You look upset!! What happened? Did you have a bad day? Did something happen while you were out?”

He was just so earnest . He could never hide a single thing from her.

Could he hide his origin as an exorcist from her all these years?

Yuzu opened her mouth. She closed it again. How could she possibly ask him something like this? It sounded crazy even to think the words, let alone say them. And if she asked, she’d have to explain how she knew to ask. She’d have to explain about Yuya, and yokai — she’d have to reveal Yuya’s secret, without his permission. Yuya never wanted anyone to know about his power — he was afraid what would happen if people knew that the yokai were real. 

But if her father used to be an exorcist, would he know about yokai? Could she ask him? Could she learn anything from him? Or was it true what Roget had said, that her father had left his family because he didn’t have any gift? Surely she would have known if he did. Wouldn’t she? It was a little strange how she knew absolutely nothing of her grandparents... Would she be bringing up bad memories if she said anything?

Her father didn’t seem to be able to hold himself back any longer, wrapping her up in a tight hug. She let him, sighing as she dropped his face against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his back.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right, Yuzu?” he said. “If anything’s going wrong...”

She smiled faintly. She couldn’t ask him after all.

“I know,” she said. “Thanks, dad. I just...I saw Masumi, and we got into a bit of a fight again. It drained me.”

“Oh, that girl,” her father said with a snort. “Doesn’t she have anything better to do?”

Yuzu laughed softly as her father squeezed her tight. The half-lie sat uncomfortably in her stomach. But she took a deep breath, and let it out.

She was going to have to get to the bottom of this on her own.

And the first step was confronting Yuya.

Yuya kicked a rock down the sidewalk, coiling his hands into fists.

“Absolutely not,” Reiji said, lips tightening. “You are not coming.”

“But this gathering thing is about me ,” Yuya said, leaning up on his knees over the table. “Should I be there? So that I know what’s coming?”

“You’d be surrounded by hundreds of yokai,” said Reiji. He shook his head, tails lashing briefly. “If you weren’t snatched up by another clan while my head was turned, you’d be swarmed in an instant.”

Sora’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two, clearly entertained by the conversation.

“If they know the bride is awake, the other clans will send out yokai to search for it,” Sawatari interrupted. “If you’re at the gathering, away from the bride, he might get snatched up anyway.”

“I have a name,” Yuya grumbled, bristling a bit at being referred to as “the bride.”

Reiji shot Sawatari a warning look as well, as though telling him not to interrupt. Sawatari only shrugged.

“That’s why you and Selena will continue to watch over him while I’m gone,” Reiji said.

“Oy, I didn’t agree to that,” Sawatari said, tail lashing irritably.

“I don’t need to be babysat!” Yuya said, even though, logically, he knew he did need to be babysat considering what had happened the last time he’d gotten cornered by a yokai. “This is about my life, Reiji! If these other clan leaders are going to be fighting over me, I need to know what’s coming!”

Reiji was unmoved, hands tucked into the sleeves of his kimono. He shook his head.

“I will not take you into that viper’s nest,” he said.

“Reiji,” Yuya said again, but he stopped when Reiji rose. He took up so much more space with his tails fanned out behind him, making him look so...otherworldly. His sharp violet eyes fixed on Yuya’s, and Yuya felt his breath, his words, all melt away. He had such beautiful eyes, he thought.

Reiji’s gaze softened then. Yuya sucked in a faint breath when Reiji reached over the table, touched Yuya’s face gently with two fingers — so brief and so light that it almost seemed like the idea of a touch rather than an actual one. Reiji leaned away again.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said, his voice soft and calm. “I will protect you. I won’t let any other clan leader take you away.”

His eyes were so shining with determination. Yuya wanted to keep protesting. But in the shadow of his gaze, he found he couldn’t.

“Okay,” he whispered.”

Yuya kicked another rock, listening to the sound of it scattering down the park’s path. Stupid Reiji. Seducing him into not arguing anymore.

Just thinking that made Yuya’s cheeks burn, though — Reiji hadn’t been trying to seduce him. Yuya was projecting, and just acknowledging that he was thinking that was made him feel so — gah! 

Why wouldn’t Reiji let him get close? He thought, a sad, gray feeling spreading through him in place of his frustration. It was like he wanted to keep Yuya at an arm’s length, not let him get involved with the disaster surrounding his own life.

“I will protect you.”

It was the way he said it. That soft, gentle promise of his voice. It made Yuya’s heart do strange, wibbly wobbly things. Was it just because of nostalgia for a childhood friend, a childhood promise? Was it just because he really was so dang pretty, and Yuya was a useless gay for a pair of pretty eyes? That’s what Yuzu would have teased if she were here.

Yuya wandered into the park and sighed, flopping into the nearest bench. Thinking about Yuzu made him realize he hadn’t checked his phone all day. He started to dig in his pocket, but when he drew out the phone, he hesitated before turning on the screen.

What was he going to tell her about all of this?

The day he’d told her about his sight, he’d been terrified. He’d worried she wouldn’t believe him, that she’d think he was lying, or worse, that she’d think he was just hallucinating, a stress reaction to his father’s disappearance.

But to his relief, she’d believed him without question. Even if she were just playing along, she’d never acted that way. She’d supported him about it, let him vent in private when he was sure no yokai were hiding in his closet and listening. Without her, he thought he might have gone mad a long time ago.

But could he tell her the truth about this? Could he tell her what was happening to him now? She’d worry. She already worried enough about him. He was always leaning on her, making her deal with his problems. If she knew that it was open season on him from dangerous yokai she couldn’t see...what would she do? 

He let his hand and the phone fall to his leg, sighing. There was no way he could explain something like this. She’d be horrified. He couldn’t ask her for advice on something like this. So he just leaned forward, resting his head between his knees, and sighed.

What was he going to do? Live in worry until his eighteenth birthday, letting Reiji protect him, with a black cat trailing him out of the corner of his eye the whole way? He could see Selena, in her cat form, half concealed behind a bush. Clearly she wasn’t trying to hide from him, or he was sure he wouldn’t be able to see her. She sat primly, licking one paw and pointedly not looking at him. Yuya wondered if Sawatari was following him now, too.

“Are you all alone out here, cutie?”

Yuya jumped, sitting up quickly.

A girl had appeared in front of him out of nowhere. He tensed, nervous automatically. But...if she were a yokai, Selena would have chased her off, right?

She was...pretty, he thought, looking up at her. Her long silver hair tumbled down her back, shimming where it framed her pale skin. Her eyes were a startlingly bright green, catching his gaze so powerfully that he felt suddenly very...very...sluggish....

“I...uh...” he said.  “N...no...?”

“You’re not?” the girl said, leaning in. Her hair slid over her shoulders, hanging down between them like a curtain. He couldn’t see Selena through the wave of hair. Was this...this didn’t feel right. “That’s a shame...I was hoping to get to know you a little better...”

She was so close. Her fingers grazed the side of his neck and they felt like ice.

“I...I don’t...” he tried to say, but his throat felt so tight. He couldn’t stop staring at her eyes. Her lips were coming very, very close to his — 

Faster than he could blink, she darted forward. He couldn’t even scream — he was so frozen in place as her teeth tore into his shoulder. Warm blood bubbled to the surface of his skin and a sharp, burning pain suddenly shot through him. He couldn’t move. His mouth was frozen open in a silent scream. Selena — where was — Selena — 

“Don’t worry,” the girl whispered, running a finger over his lips. “You’re not a yokai. My poison is quite slow to kill humans. I’ll bring you back to the clan and give you the antidote before you die.”

She licked her bloody lips, her pupils turning to snake-like slits of delight.

“Although...I wonder if I’ll be able to resist another bite...”

A snarl cut through the air, and then suddenly the blurred black shape of Selena crashed through the air, slamming into the yokai girl’s side. The yokai swore as she staggered back in the whirl of Selena’s claws.

Yuya couldn’t move — he could barely move his eyes to catch the scene. Selena shifted back into a half human shape, her split tail lashing, claws long and sharp from her hands as she hissed and arched her back. The silver haired yokai hissed back, showing off long, thin fangs like a snake’s. Silvery white scales grew along the sides of her face and down her neck, and now that she wasn’t standing right in front of him, Yuya could see that she didn’t have legs — instead she had a long, silver-white snake tail that coiled along the ground.

Selena was a whirl of claws and teeth, moving too quickly for the snake woman’s darting snaps to grab at her. But then a second blur caught his attention from the other side of him, and he desperately tried to move. A second woman, with burning pink snake’s eyes and golden scales that matched her golden hair loomed over him, wiping a gash of blood from the side of her forehead where Selena must have struck her. There were two yokai — no wonder Selena had been distracted.

This woman didn’t bother to tease him. She only hissed irritably, reaching out to grab him. Yuya tried desperately to move, to make a sound, to do something .

“Yuya? There you are. I’ve been look — are you — are you bleeding ?”

The voice cut through him like a knife, and his eyes widened. The snake yokai flicked her gaze over her shoulder, lips curling with irritation.

Yuzu stood at the entrance to the park, eyes wide with concern.

“Yuya? Yuya, are you okay?”

Yuya couldn’t make a sound. He could only widen his eyes, hoping that she could see the warning in them, hoping she’d run. But she only saw the fear in his eyes, and she moved towards him faster. She couldn’t see them — she couldn’t see the snake yokai women, couldn’t see Selena fighting with the silver snake, couldn’t see anything except a frozen, bleeding Yuya.

“Oh my god, what happened , you’re —”

The gold snake woman snarled. She yanked on Yuya’s arm, dragging him off the bench before Yuzu could reach him. Yuzu’s eyes bulged with shock as she watched, from her eyes — Yuya suddenly being yanked through the air. Yuya hit the ground hard, the air rushing out of him. His limbs flopped like a rag doll, and Yuzu screamed.

“Yuya! What’s happening?? Is it a yokai? Where is it?”

She started flailing her arms around, spinning in circles, trying to strike at something she couldn’t see. The gold snake’s eyes narrowed, suddenly fixing on Yuzu.

“So you know we’re here, do you, little morsel?” the silver snake hissed, sounding fascinated as she staggered back over to the other. Selena staggered after her, bleeding down her arms as she hissed, trying to get on its back.

“What an absolute pain,” the gold snake hissed, though hunger narrowed her pupils. “But this one doesn’t have to be alive...”

Yuzu swung her arms around again, and Yuya tried, tried to get feeling into his limbs, into his throat — Yuzu run, run run run — 

The golden snake yokai reached for Yuzu, her taloned hand groping for her while she kept a tight hold on Yuya with the other. Yuya tried again to scream.

Then a thin, low whistling sound echoed through the park. The yokai hesitated. Even Yuzu froze, clearly hearing it just as clearly.

A thin line of red opened along the gold snake’s shoulder. Then blood burst from the wound, and she shrieked. She stumbled back with a loud cry of pain, releasing Yuya. Another whistle, and then another invisible slash, across her hip this time.

Yuzu dropped to her knees beside Yuya as a new shadow emerged out of the copse of park trees. This time, Yuzu’s eyes shot up to it, and Yuya knew she could see him.

He wondered, though, how much of Reiji that Yuzu could see. Did she see him as the human face he wore at school? Or could she see the bristling mass of silvery tails writhing behind him, the sharp, almost glowing color to his eyes, the fangs that he bared in a warning snarl?

Reiji darted to Yuya’s side, dropping to one knee beside him. His eyes quickly roved over him, latching onto the sight of the bleeding wound. He touched it gently, then looked at the blood on his fingers, jaw tensing.

“I don’t know what happened!” Yuzu cried. “I — I dropped my phone, I can’t call an ambulance —”

“It will be all right,” Reiji said, in that soft, calming voice of his. “Stay with him a moment.”

Yuzu grabbed Yuya’s hand, clutching at it while Reiji rose, facing the two snake yokai. Selena staggered over to him in cat form, bleeding from a torn gash her shoulder, but still hissing, hackles raised. 

The gold snake’s lips curled as she held her hands against her bleeding cuts. The silver snake cried out with shock at the other’s wounds, hurrying over to her.

“Stay back, sister,” the gold snake snapped, eyes fixed on Reiji. “He wasn’t the one who struck. There is a kamaitachi hidden away.”

Reiji held her gaze firmly, the two off them staring off. Yuya wondered who was going to win.

“Begone,” Reiji finally said, fur bristling. “I have already struck the first claim. Should your clan wish to make a challenge, you can do it at the gathering.”

The yokai woman’s lips curled.  Then after a beat, she snorted.

“We’ll give up for today, kitsune,” she said. “But be warned — my sister alone has the antidote to her poison.”

She smirked, lips curling back to show her fangs. The silver snake giggled.  And with that, she grabbed her sister’s hand, and the pair of snake yokai disappeared into the brush. Reiji stared them off a moment longer.

Yuya let out a shuddering breath, shivering. He could barely move. Was he going to die? But Reiji reacted to the sound of his breath, immediately wheeling and dropping down beside him. Yuzu was sobbing. Her hands crushed Yuya’s, and he just tried to breathe.

“Let me see,” Reiji said, softly turning Yuya over, propping him up in his arms.

“What happened to him? What’s going on?” Yuzu demanded through her tears. He tried to squeeze her hand to reassure her, but he couldn’t even move his fingers. His vision was starting to go out.

“It will be all right,” Reiji reassured her again. “I’m going to have to remove the poison.”

Was it just Yuya’s imagination, or did he hear the faintest waver in Reiji’s voice? Was that...panic? Barely concealed, cracking the edges of his tone?

“N-no,” Yuya tried to croak. “R-Reiji, it’s...the p-poison”

She said the poison would hurt yokai more than humans, you have to be careful, Reiji, please — 

But Reiji didn’t hesitate. He pulled Yuya’s shirt down around his shoulder, away from the wound, and then pressed his lips to Yuya’s skin. Yuya sucked in a breath as he felt his blood bubbling up to his skin, as Reiji began to suck the venom out of him.  Yuzu let out a choked gasping sound, tugging on Yuya’s arm — but she didn’t try to drag him away.

Reiji spat blood onto the ground, then began to kiss at the wound again. He spat out two more mouthfuls of poisoned blood before the wound finally closed. Before feeling started to run back down to Yuya’s fingers. He shuddered and gasped, curling and uncurling his fingers.

“Yuya!” Yuzu cried, throwing her arms around him despite the blood that stained his shoulder and neck. “Yuya, oh my god, Yuya —”

Yuya managed to coil a reassuring arm around her, closing his eyes as he finally felt able to breathe clear breaths. Strength slowly returned to his limbs, and he curled his legs up, pressing one hand to the ground to steady himself.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled to the still sobbing Yuzu. “I’m okay...”

Something moved in his peripherals, though, and he lifted his head.

Reiji staggered on his feet, swaying dangerously. Oh, no, had he swallowed any of it? Was he poisoned?

“R-Reiji — Reiji, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Reiji said, though the tense, clipped edges of his tone made Yuya think he was lying. “I just need — to rest —”

When he swayed again, Selena appeared, darting to his side and propping him up. Reiji leaned on her with a wince. 

“You’re hurt, too,” Yuya said, heart leaping as he saw the gash running down Selena’s arm.

Selena just snorted, shaking her head.

“Only got me with her claws, not her teeth,” she said. “You get back to your house. I’ll take care of this one. Sawatari will watch over you on the way back.”

“But —”

“I’ll be fine,” Reiji said, sounding exhausted but calm. “You need rest, yourself. And...I suppose you’ll need to speak with your friend.”

Yuzu still clung to him, shaking, though she stared suspiciously at Reiji and Selena now, her arms tightening around him. Yuya hugged her gently back. He felt so, so tired . He wanted to protest. He wanted to go with Reiji. This was his fault...if he hadn’t been so irritable, hadn’t gone off on his own like this...Reiji wouldn’t have had to...

But he swallowed it all down, the apologies, the protests. He just nodded, numb and exhausted. But his eyes lingered on Reiji’s a moment, trying to see how bad it was. Reiji met his gaze with that same calm look as always, and Yuya couldn’t read it.

He’s going to be all right, isn’t he? he thought, as he allowed Yuzu to help him to his feet and guide him back out of the park. He wouldn’t die for me, would he?

He looked back over his shoulder, at the fuzzy outline of Reiji with his sharp ears, the mass of tails.

Why would he go so far for me? he thought. Is it only because I’m the bride?

But then...why doesn’t he try to convince me to marry him?

Why does he protect me?

Chapter Text

“You have to tell me what’s going on.”

Yuya tried to avoid Yuzu’s sharp gaze. He made a show of turning around so that he could shrug off his shirt, dumping it into the hamper. He hoped he could get the blood out before his mom noticed.

Yuzu walked past him and pulled the shirt back out of the hamper while he grabbed a different shirt off the pile on his chair and pulled it on over his head.

“Hydrogen peroxide and cold water,” she said, pointing at the stain. “You have to do it right away.”

“Maybe I should just throw it away,” he muttered, but Yuzu had that look in her eyes. He wasn’t getting out of this, that was for sure. 

Sighing, he went downstairs to retrieve the bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Yuzu was already wetting a cloth with cold water in the sink upstairs when he returned, starting to dab at the stain. She took the bottle from him without looking at him, and dabbed a bit onto the cloth before gently pressing the cloth to the stain.

Yuya sat down on the toilet, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“So?” Yuzu said, after a moment of silence. “I’m not just doing this for fun. Start telling me what’s going on.”

Yuya had been trying to figure out a way to avoid telling her everything. To say it had just been a freak accident that a yokai had attacked him. That Reiji wasn’t a yokai. But when Yuzu shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, he knew he couldn’t lie. He’d only worry her more by not telling the truth at this point. He sighed again.

The words came slowly. Yuzu continued to carefully clean up the stain on his shirt while Yuya continued to talk. He explained his friendship with Reiji as a child, and that Reiji was a yokai, the head of a clan. He told her everything Reiji had told him, about his role as the yokai’s bride, about his time limit. Yuzu didn’t say a word, eyes fixed on her task. Dabbing the stain with cold water. Sopping up with a dry cloth. Dabbing with more cold water.

“But if I can make it to my eighteenth birthday...I’ll lose my sight, and they won’t target me anymore,” Yuya said. “Reiji said he’d protect me until then.”

Yuzu draped the now mostly clean shirt over the edge of the tub to dry, laying out the rags she’d used beside it. She turned to face him, barely more than a few inches away from him crunched up together in the tiny bathroom. She folded her arms.

“And do you believe him?” she asked.

Yuya blinked, looking up at her. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected the first thing she’d say would be when he finally stopped, but it wasn’t that.

“I...he’s already saved my life twice,” he said.

“Isn’t he just trying to convince you to marry him?” Yuzu said. Her fingers tightened into her arms. “I don’t like this, Yuya.”

“Reiji hasn’t done anything to hurt me, or to put me in danger,” Yuya said, frowning. “He told me that he won’t make me get married to him.”

Something in Yuzu crumbled, and she let out a breath, sinking to lean against the wall behind her, her arms sliding out to hang at her sides.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I just...this is a lot. And it’s so...coincidental. That he left and just came back the day before this all happened?”

She tugged at one of her pigtails, biting her lip. Yuya clasped his hands together. His neck still panged with the ghost memory of those fangs biting into him, the burning, numbing poison that rushed through his body. The feeling of Reiji’s warm lips on his skin.

“If...if he really wanted to coerce me,” Yuya said, “I don’t think he would have told me about the time limit.”

Yuzu flicked her eyes down to him. She continued to run her fingers through her pigtails.

“I mean, if I thought that this was going to go on forever, I might think about...just giving up,” Yuya said. “But...he told me the truth, Yuzu. And back when we were friends...”

He didn’t remember much of it. But he remembered how warm Reiji’s hand had been. How gently he’d stroked Yuya’s hair. How he’d comforted him, taken care of him.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But he’s not trying to force me into anything so far, Yuzu.”

Yuzu bit her lip, hard. Then she let out a heavy breath.

“You really trust him, huh?” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Okay, Yuya. I’ll leave off on that.”

She stared up at the ceiling, then. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Yuya’s hands started trembling and he pressed them together tighter. Was it just now setting in that he’d nearly died again? Was the late panic just starting to rise up?

“So what are you going to do?” Yuzu asked.

“Do?”

“I mean...are you going to marry him?” Yuzu asked. “Or one of the other yokai? Or are you going to just...try to survive until the end?”

Yuya stared at the floor, pressing his hands together tightly.

“I...I don’t know ,” he said, and his voice cracked. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

It broke something in him. The tears started rushing down his face so fast that he couldn’t wipe them all away. Yuzu’s arms were around him in an instant, and he clung to her, shaking so hard he was certain he would have collapsed to the floor without Yuzu holding him up.

“I don’t know,” he said again. “I don’t know.”

I didn’t even know what I wanted to do after high school. I don’t know what to do about a decision like this. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t even know what I don’t know.

“I’m sorry,” Yuzu mumbled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked a stupid question like that. I’m sorry.”

He wanted to tell her that she had nothing to apologize for, but he couldn’t. He could only sob, remembering how scared he’d been — how scared he still was. And remembering that faint, panicked look in Reiji’s eyes when he’d propped Yuya up, the crack in Reiji’s voice. The way he’d swayed and staggered after he’d healed Yuya. Reiji could have died .

Yuya still didn’t know if it was just because of what he was, or if Reiji was telling the truth. If he really cared for Yuya.

And he didn’t know, either, why not knowing that upset him nearly as much as the fear of almost dying did.

He wasn’t sure how long he cried, but by the time he finished, he felt so drained that he might have fallen asleep right there in the bathroom. Yuzu still hugged him, though he could feel her trembling, too, and there were tears in his hair. How terrifying must it have been for her, to see him bleeding with no visible cause? To know the yokai was there, but have no way of fighting against it.

“I have something I need to tell you too,” she said.

Yuya shifted, and then she let go of him, leaning back on her heels. She looked flushed, and she had to rub at her wet eyes to regain her composure. Yuya didn’t think he could get words out through his throat, so he just waited for her to talk. What could she have to say that was anywhere near as world shaking as what he’d had to admit?

“I...I went investigating a little before I talked to you,” she said, staring at the corner of the bathroom rather than at him. “I thought maybe I could learn more about yokai and...help, somehow.”

Yuya sat up straight now.

“What? You have to be careful! You can’t see them! If they notice you trying to find them —”

“Look, I know, okay, it was dumb, but I was worried and you weren’t telling me anything,” she said, though she blushed. “I’ll just — I’ll cut to the end part. I met someone who said — said my dad was an exorcist.”

Yuya stared at her. Her...dad? Hiragi Shuzo? The dorky, over enthusiastic theater teacher? 

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“I don’t know ,” Yuzu said. “They just...they said that my dad came from an exorcist family, but he didn’t have any powers but...I don’t know, I thought — if I come from some kind of exorcist family, maybe I could learn something. Maybe I could help .”

“Yuzu, I don’t want you to put yourself in danger,” he said. “Please. I don’t have a choice, but you do . I don’t want you getting mixed up in this.”

“I don’t have a choice either,” she said fiercely, meeting his eyes finally. “You’re my best friend, Yuya. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not while I have anything to say about it.”

Yuya wanted to argue with her. He wanted to tell her to stay far, far away from yokai, to not get herself involved, to not put herself in the crossfire when she had literally no way of even seeing them coming. But Yuzu had that look in her eyes, that one that meant arguing was going to get them nowhere. There was nothing he could say right now that was going to sway her — and some part of him felt a strange, slumping relief.  No matter what happened, he’d always have Yuzu. She’d never leave him behind, even if she knew she couldn’t do anything. And he shouldn’t have tried to keep her out of this.

He slumped forward, elbows on his knees and head lolling down.

“I can’t talk you out of this, can I?”

“Nope,” Yuzu said. “I’m going to figure out something, and I’m going to help. You got it? You don’t do things on your own.”

Yuya laughed around the lump still choking his throat, fresh tears bubbling to his eyes.

“What would I do without you, huh?”

“You’d be totally incompetent,” she said, patting him on the head. “You’re so lucky to have me around.”

He laughed again, and she giggled as her eyes bubbled with tears again. He swallowed.

“Promise me you’ll be careful?” he said.

“Will you promise me that, too?”

He smiled, and held up his pinky, like they were twelve again. She smiled back. She twined her pinkie into his.

“We can’t really promise that, can we?” she said, still holding onto him.

Yuya smiled through the blur in his eyes.

“We really can’t.”

Reiji wasn’t at school the next morning. Yuzu shot Yuya a worried look, clearly wondering if he was all right. Yuya could barely meet her eyes, his gaze caught by the sight of Reiji’s empty desk. Was he not all right, after all? What had the poison done to him? Was he okay?

Yuzu didn’t stop him when he broke off from her on their way home to go up Reiji’s walk, and she didn’t follow. She did stand at the entry path, though, staring suspiciously at the house. He silently thanked her for understanding, and for being the skeptic he probably needed her to be. But he just had to see Reiji. He had to make sure he was all right.

Tsukikage opened the door for him, veiled as he peeked out through the crack.

“Is she a friend of yours, Yuya-dono?” he asked, nodding to Yuzu still standing at the end of the walk.

“Yeah,” Yuya said. “I don’t...think she wants to come in, though.”

Tsukikage nodded silently.

“Reiji-dono is resting. But I will take you to see him. Please, follow me, Yuya-dono.”

The kitsune bowed deeply as he let Yuya into the hallway.

“You, uh, you don’t have to call me that,” he said, as Tsukikage began to walk down the hallway. “I mean, I’m not a lord or anything.”

“You are my lord’s beloved,” Tsukikage said. “It is only correct that I should refer to you with respect.”

Yuya’s cheeks immediately burned red. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Tsukikage didn’t mean that did he?? Reiji had said he cared for Yuya, but it couldn’t go that far, could it?

Before Yuya could protest any further, however, Tsukikage had led him down to the end of the hallway. He pulled open the sliding door and bowed, deeply.

“Reiji-dono may be asleep,” Tsukikage said. “But he will be glad to know you have visited.”

Yuya hesitated, hovering just outside the threshold of the door. It opened into another traditional looking room, nearly the same as the room he’d first visited Reiji at, though it didn’t open into a porch. There was no table, either — just a futon laid out, and Reiji in the center of it.

His glasses were folded up on the floor near him. His eyes were closed, and his breath was so slow and steady that for one terrifying moment, Yuya thought he wasn’t breathing. He turned towards Tsukikage, planning on asking him if Reiji was really all right. But Tsukikage had disappeared as silently as he appeared. Yuya turned back to face Reiji.

After taking a long, steadying breath, Yuya stepped inside. 

The distance between them was only three steps, and when he was over Reiji, he could see the blanket covering him rising and falling with his breaths. Yuya wavered a moment, then sat down on his knees next to Reiji. For a long time, the silence spread. His heart had begun to slow — seeing that Reiji was mostly all right relieved him. But...now what? He didn’t want to wake him...and yet, there was so much he wanted to say. 

Yuya found himself studying Reiji’s face. He was in his half fox form, his ears poking from his silvery hair. This close, he could see just how elegant the lines of his face were. He had long, dark eyelashes, thin, angled eyebrows. There was a pearlescent gleam to his skin, as though it were slightly ethereal. Inhuman, eerie, and yet...beautiful.

His cheeks flushed as he noticed where his mind was wandering. He shook his head so quickly that he smacked himself with his own bangs.

“Yuya...?”

Yuya sat up straight, eyes widening. Reiji’s eyes cracked open, his lips parting. He still looked half asleep as his irises flickered to Yuya, groggy, unfocused.

“Did I wake you up?” Yuya said, guilty.

Reiji just blinked, tired, as though he hadn’t quite heard Yuya. Perhaps he was still asleep.

“Are you...all right?” he murmured.

“I’m okay,” Yuya said. “Thanks to you.”

Reiji’s eyes fluttered shut again, his body relaxing.

“Good...that’s...good...”

For a moment, Yuya thought he had drifted back to sleep. But his throat loosened, and words tumbled out before he could say anything.

“You could have died,” he said. “That poison...you had to know that it could kill you. But you...anyway....”

His eyes blurred and he had to rub furiously at them.

“Why?” he mumbled. “Why are you going so far for me? I haven’t promised to marry you. I don’t know that I will. Protecting me will put you in danger, won’t it? Put your clan in danger? Why...for me...?”

His chest tightened and his throat filled, and he couldn’t speak through the lumps anymore. He fisted his knuckles against his eyes.

“Because...you are...” Reiji breathed, and Yuya jumped. He’d still been awake?

Reiji’s eyes half opened again, staring at the ceiling.

“I...want...to protect you,” Reiji breathed.

“Are you all right?” Yuya said, dropping down onto his hands, leaning over Reiji. “Don’t lie to me, are you going to be okay? That poison...”

Reiji’s eyes softened as his gaze managed to focus on Yuya. The faintest smile tugged at his exhausted expression.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. 

His arm, with some effort, extracted itself from the blankets. Yuya sucked in a breath as Reiji reached for him. His fingers gently traced against the side of Yuya’s face, briefly touched the hanging strands of his hair around his cheeks.

“I only needed...rest,” Reiji breathed. “I am...stronger than I look.”

When his hand drifted away, Yuya was seized with a sudden desire to grab hold of it. To draw it back to him. But he didn’t. 

“I still don’t understand,” Yuya said. “Why are you doing this for me?”

Reiji smiled a soft, tired smile.

“Haven’t I told you?” he said. “I care for you, Yuya.”

“Yeah but I — but why ?” Yuya said. “We were childhood friends, but I don’t...I don’t...”

I barely remember it , he thought, guilt gnawing at his chest.

Reiji let out a tiny breath that might have been a laugh. His gaze shifted to the ceiling again as he took a deep breath.

“I remember,” Reiji said. “I remember every moment, every breath we spent together.”

His eyes began to droop again.

“And all I have ever wanted, all these years, was to protect that smile of yours.”

Yuya’s breath caught. He had to press a hand to his mouth to prevent the sob from escaping him. How could Reiji just...say things like that, without even thinking about it? Yuya still didn’t understand — how could someone like him be so important to someone like Reiji? 

I want to remember, Yuya thought. No, more than that — I want...I want to know him. I want to know more about Reiji.

He looked so peaceful, sleeping there. Yuya leaned over him again, and without thinking about it, he reached over Reiji’s face. He brushed some of the bangs away from his forehead. Reiji didn’t stir.

Yuya drew his hand back and leaned back on his heels again. He clenched his hands together.

I want the chance to get to know him , he realized. More than anything else, I...

I want to know him.

Chapter Text

At first, Yuya thought the tapping was the sound of branches against his window, and he groaned, fumbling to grasp sleep again. Then in a moment of clarity, he remembered that there wasn’t a tree outside his window to be tapping against the glass. His eyes flew open, and he sat straight up.

The moon shone bright and full, lighting the floor silver and outlining the silhouette that sat on the sill. Selena’s big green eyes blinked at him, almost as bright as the moon, her cat-like shape outlined against the stars. 

Yuya’s legs got tangled in his covers for a moment, and as he tried to pull himself out of bed, he tumbled face first onto the floor instead. He flushed. Smarting with both embarrassment and a throbbing pain in his nose, he scrambled up to his feet and threw open the window.

“What? What’s going on?” he said.

He blinked, and in between, Selena shifted from cat form to human, crouched on the edge of his window with her knees by her shoulders and her nails digging into the sill.

“Reiji changed his mind,” she said. “He wants you to come to the gathering.”

Yuya blinked. His mouth opened. Then he sucked in a breath.

“What? Really?? Wait, is he awake? Is he okay?”

Selena rolled her eyes.

“ Yes , really. Get outside, we can’t wait for you forever.”

In between another blink, she shifted back into her cat form, twin tails lashing as she turned and leaped back down to the ground. Yuya gasped. He leaned his head out the window to see where she’d fallen — this was the second story!! — but she’d disappeared into the shadows of the shrubbery growing around his house. He pulled his head back inside. His heart had started to hammer in his chest. Reiji wanted him to come to the gathering after all? This was so sudden. Was it true, or was it a yokai trick? He’d have to be careful. He closed and locked his window, and hurried to throw on some clothes, looping his pendulum over his neck.

He went for the fireman’s pole rather than the squeaky stairs and slid down as quietly as he could, glancing nervously up towards his mother’s room to make sure he hadn’t woken her. Luckily, her snoring was so loud he could still hear it from down here — she probably couldn’t hear anything over that.

He made it to the door, and cracked it open just a bit, peeking out with just one eye.

There was no question that that was Reiji standing at the end of his walk — sharp ears, bushy tails, kimono-shaped silhouette. He recognized Tsukikage and Hikage as well, sans their hats and veils, with their ears sticking up and their trio of tails flicking back and forth behind them. Sora was there, too, chewing on something that might have been jerky or something that Yuya didn’t want to know, and Sawatari, arms crossed and looking irritable. Selena appeared in part-human form by Reiji after a beat, and Yuya let out a breath. He opened the door the rest of the way and slipped out, careful to close it quietly.

Reiji’s eyes glowed in the moonlight, and his shoulder relaxed ever so faintly when he saw Yuya.

“Yuya,” he said. “I apologize for waking you.”

“No, it’s okay,” Yuya said. “What about you?? Are you feeling okay?”

Reiji smiled a soft, quiet smile.

“I’m feeling much better having rested,” he said. “I thank you for your concern.”

Sawatari let out a little harumph sound, and Sora grinned, waving at Yuya as he swallowed whatever he was eating whole.

“It’s really okay that I come to this thing?” Yuya said. “I know I said I wanted to go, but...”

Will it put you in danger if I go? Will you get hurt trying to protect me again if I’m there?

Yuya wanted to go. He wanted to see what he was up against. He wanted to have a sense of what he was going to be dealing with for the next year, or the fate he might have to face. He didn’t want to be an outsider to his own destiny. But if it was going to cause trouble for Reiji, after what happened...

Reiji let out a soft sigh.

“Much as I would prefer to keep you far away from our realm, I fear it may be the easiest way to ensure your safety,” he said. “After that attack, not just the clans know that I have you under my protection — the lower level yokai who would benefit from eating you know, as well.”

“Reiji has to take some of us with him for his entourage and stuff,” Sora said. “So even if a few of us stayed here to protect you, who knows how many yokai’d show up.”

His eyes lit up though, as though he were a bit excited by the idea of fighting so many yokai at once.

“At any rate, it is safest to keep you close,” Reiji said. “The threat of punishment from the clan heads for interference in the game will likely keep you safe. But we’ll be careful.”

He nodded to Tsukikage and Hikage, who both inclined their heads. Hikage stepped forward, holding out...a mask. Yuya tilted his head, accepting it. It looked like one of those kitsune masks they sold at festivals, but unlike those cheap plastic toys, this was a rather solid, if light, carved wood. Tsukikage then offered him a dark colored haori, which he took as well.

“What’s this for?” Yuya asked.

“The haori will dampen your scent, and the mask may fool some yokai into believing you are one of us,” Reiji said. “It may not last for long, but...it is a precaution.”

Yuya nodded. Smart. He draped the haori over his shoulders and pulled it around himself. Man, he’d never worn one of these before. They were so baggy. He pulled the mask over his face then. He didn’t like how hard it was to see through the eye holes, but he did feel a little safer knowing his face was hidden.

“Okay,” he said. “So now what?”

Reiji smiled, and offered his hand.

“We’re going to step through to the other side,” he said.

Yuya hesitated for less than a breath. Then he placed his hand into Reiji’s. Reiji stepped backwards, and Yuya stepped forward with him — his ears popped. He sucked in an involuntary breath.

And then the light changed. Yuya gasped, eyes widening. Where the street had once been dark, only lit by the moon, it was now alight with the orange-y red light of paper lanterns. The clatter of feet on stone filled the air, the hum of a hundred voices all chattering, knocking against wood, calling out in the crowd.

Yuya’s head spun, eyes wide as he took it all in — even through the limited vision of his mask, he could tell they were no longer on his street, or anything like it at all. Instead, they stood inside the confines of a shrine, a wide stone path lined with stalls as though they’d jumped into the middle of a festival. Thick, old trees curled their branches over head, bigger and thicker than any trees he’d ever seen.  And there were — there were yokai everywhere.

He’d never seen so many yokai in one place, and he was glad of the mask hiding how much he stared. He saw a one-eyed umbrella hop past him; a giant red ogre leaned his face into the stall of a vendor who wore a big white Noh mask, overhead a red bird with brilliant, long feathers swooped past.

He hadn’t let go of Reiji’s hand, and Reiji squeezed his palm, bringing Yuya back to himself. Yuya turned towards him.

The yokai had all changed, and he gasped. Sora’s skin had turned a deep blue, and his eyes had gotten two sizes bigger, turning a deep, pupil-less green — his horn had gotten much longer, too, and had a much sharper tip. When he grinned, he had fangs. Where Sawatari had stood was now a large weasel with bright brown eyes and golden streaks in its brown fur, floating on a visible green whirlwind. His front paws each had a single long, deadly looking blade growing from the wrist.

Selena was back to her cat form, but it was bigger . A thick ruff of fur nearly as thick as a lion’s mane had grown in around her neck, and her tails were fluffier, her face a little longer, like a panther’s, and she had a white marking on her chest like a crescent moon. Tsukikage and Hikage, too, were in full animal form. They stood as tall as wolves, with sharp, regal faces and pointed ears. Tsukikage’s fur was a deep, midnight blue, edged with black, and his trio of tails swooshed gently behind him, while Hikage was a warm, reddish brown, and his three tails were held high.

And then...Reiji.

He was still human in shape, but his face...it was the face of a fox, now, dark violet eyes edged with a thick rim of black, glasses still perched on his snout. His hands were still human, though they were gray-furred, still holding Yuya’s.

“Is...is this what you really look like?” Yuya gasped, trying not to stare.

Reiji’s smile was odd on a fox’s lips, but it was still unrecognizably his own.

“Almost,” he said. “I’m afraid I would cause quite a scene in this crowd if I took on my true form as of yet.”

He squeezed Yuya’s hand again. Somewhere up above, the sound of a chiming bell rang out. Yuya looked up — he realized then that at the end of the aisle of festival booths, there was an impossibly long staircase, rising up into a dark stand of trees. Several archways stood framing the stairs at several landings, leading up to a faraway arched roof that was lit with an eerie green glow.

“Come,” Reiji said. “It is nearly time to start.”

Still holding Yuya’s hand, he led the way through the crowd. It parted before them, as yokai looked up and caught sight of Reiji and his entourage, and quickly moved aside. Reiji moved with the confidence of one who knew his presence was noted, his eyes fixed ahead. Yuya tried hard not to stumble or stare, though it was hard. He’d thought he was used to seeing yokai, but he’d never seen them like this before — in their element, fully in their own power. There was a real weight and presence to them, here, and for the first time, they felt solid. Real.

The stairs finally appeared before them, and before Yuya could even bemoan how many there were to climb, he took his first step and found himself standing at the top. He blinked. He looked over his shoulder, down at the glowing festival far below. How...had he spaced out? How had they ended up here so quickly?

“Ah-ha!” said a soft, cheerful voice. “You’re right on time, sir!”

Yuya blinked, looking up. 

Ahead of them, a fox sat waiting on the path. He was smaller than Tsukikage or Hikage, closer to the size of an actual fox, and he had only two tails. His fur was a bright, springy orange that looked thick and curly, like the fur of a dog’s. He grinned a big, toothy grin, and bounded over to the group, stopping before Yuya. He cocked his head, and then sniffed a bit, before smiling again.

“So this is him! I was wondering when I was going to meet him!”

“You’d have met him earlier if you hadn’t been gallivanting off doing whatever it is you do,” Selena growled. “Where have you been, Dennis?”

“Doing my job, obviously,” Dennis said airily.

Oh, Yuya thought. This must be the other kitsune that Reiji had mentioned.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, tilting his head down towards him. “I’m Yuya.”

“I thought so,” said Dennis, eyes twinkling. “At any rate, Reiji, once this is over, I’ve got lots to tell you.”

Reiji inclined his head.

“I look forward to it,” he said. “Have they started yet?”

“Nope. Still waiting on maybe two others, so you’re not even the last here. They’re getting antsy, though.”

“As they always are,” Reiji huffed. 

He turned to Yuya, then.

“Stay close,” Reiji said softly. “Hopefully, you shouldn’t need to say anything — hopefully, they won’t even know you were here.”

Yuya nodded. As much as he’d wanted to come along...his stomach was starting to turn nervously.  Reiji tightened his grip on Yuya once more before releasing him. Yuya could still feel the warmth of his hand in his, and he clutched it to his chest, swallowing. 

Reiji strode ahead, while Tsukikage and Hikage fell into step on either side of him. Selena came up next to Yuya and nudged him with her head.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“I’ll stick with you,” Dennis said cheerfully, leaping up with the lightness of a cloud and landing on Yuya’s shoulder. He felt like nothing more than a particularly light cat, and Yuya didn’t even sway. “Don’t worry, I might be small, but I can be plenty ferocious.”

“Thanks,” Yuya said, smiling.

Selena snorted and rolled her eyes.

“You mean you can make yourself an illusion of being ferocious,” she said.

But she fell into step alongside Yuya, and Sawatari and Sora took up the rear as they made their way into the clearing.

The trees grew thick and tall, and a large building sat at the far end of the stone plaza. There were several chairs of rounded stone placed around the circle of the paved ground, but there were more yokai here than there were seats. Reiji led them around the circle to one empty seat, and settled onto it. Tsukikage and Hikage sat down on either side of him, while Yuya and the others remained behind him. That gave Yuya a chance to take a peek around and see who all had gathered.

There were so many yokai it made his head spin, and he couldn’t identify all of them. He could tell after a few minutes, though, that they were all organized into loose groups of similar yokai, like Reiji and his group of mostly kitsune. 

“While we’re waiting, want me to give you a rundown on everyone?” Dennis whispered into Yuya’s ear.

Yuya jumped — he’d nearly forgotten that Dennis was there.

“Oh...yeah, actually,” he said. “Could you?”

“No problem! Knowing a little bit about everyone is my job,” said Dennis, his tails bushing up with pride. “Well, across from us here, there’s the tengu clan.”

Yuya looked where Dennis pointed with his paw. Directly across from Reiji’s seat sat a tall, proud looking man. His haori was a deep violet, and two dark wings sprouted from his back, a beak-like mask covering the bottom half of his face. His dark hair bristled with even darker feathers. Even from here, Yuya could see his piercing yellow gaze, and he shivered at the intensity of it.

“That’s the clan head, Kurosaki Shun,” Dennis said. “He’s new — only been the clan head for maybe six months. A little volatile. I’d steer clear. The rest of the tengu are pretty relaxed, though.”

Yuya glanced behind Kurosaki to see the rest of his entourage. Their big black wings were all folded against their backs, standing with a bit of a slouch to their stances. They were all turned towards each other, as though having a chat rather than paying attention to anything else.

“And next to them, you’ve got the tanuki,” said Dennis. “Now, don’t be fooled by the fairy tales that they’re all silly pranksters. They can be plenty dangerous, and their current clan head, Isao, is a real mean one.”

Yuya glanced where Dennis pointed. Isao looked like an ordinary human — albeit one with small, fuzzy ears poking out of his thick purple hair, and a big striped racoon’s tail. The yokai arrayed behind him came in a strange variety of shapes and sizes, and as Yuya watched, one transformed from a strange dog-like creature into a tall, long-necked woman instead before his eyes.

“They like to shapeshift, so watch out for anyone who isn’t acting quite right, that’s a common trick,” said Dennis. “Then over here, we’ve got the yurei.”

“Ghosts?” Yuya said.

“Ghosts, spirits, kami, whatever you’d like to call them,” Dennis said. “They’re a varied bunch, only loosely connected, really, but they stick together for one reason or another.”

For the most part, they all looked like human women, at least in shape. They all wore long, elegant kimono, and had long silky hair...he stiffened, though, as he noticed that at least two of them had long snake’s tails instead of legs. He shrank back, recognizing the two metallic haired twins standing in among them. So that had been the yurei clan that had tried to take him then? Luckily, neither sister looked his direction.

“Why...why is their seat empty?” he whispered, noticing after his panic subsided that the seat before the yurei was empty.

Dennis shrugged.

“I sniffed around, but wasn’t sure,” he said. “It sounds like maybe the clan head is playing hooky — maybe for a while now.”

He shrugged, and turned his attention elsewhere. He nodded his head towards the seat right in front of the large castle-like shrine building at the head of the plaza. It was almost hard to look over there — the shimmering haze of light and power made Yuya’s eyes water. But he could see the man who sat in the chair, if barely, through the light that emanated off of his form. 

“Dragon clan,” Dennis said quietly. “They’re not so much yokai as they’re...well, gods. They’ve been around the longest, by far. Before the other clans formed, we more or less deferred to them. Kaito is their clan head.”

The man who sat in the clan head’s seat was tall, and he seemed to crackle with a cold, shimmering energy. Twin branched horns spiraled out of the sides of his head, through the strands of his spiked blond hair. Even from here, his sharp gray eyes seemed to shimmer with energy, like the ripples of light through water when you sank down beneath the surface and looked back up. Behind him, it was hard to see through the condensation of power, like the haze of water off a waterfall, but Yuya got the sense of several other long, sinuous creatures hovering behind their leader.

“There’s just one more, but they’re not here yet,” Dennis said.

“Is there a clan for every kind of yokai?” Yuya asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, not at all. There’d be far too many of them, wouldn’t there?”

Dennis made a choking, coughing sound that Yuya quickly realized was a laugh.

“Then...how did they decide which kinds of yokai get a clan?” Yuya asked.

“Whichever ones accumulated the most power over time,” Dennis said. “First, a bunch of yokai have to get together and decide they want to work for it. Then it’s a long time of accumulating power, gaining allies, until you have a clan. The tanuki only became a full fledged clan in the last few centuries, as an example. Other, smaller yokai without such an alliance tend to flock to one clan or another when they need something, but mostly, they keep to themselves.”

Yuya nodded slowly. So that was how it worked...

There was only one empty space left, and Yuya was about to ask who was missing when a soft chime rang out over the plaza. At first, Yuya thought it might be a signal that the meeting was starting. But as the chime continued, he realized that it was coming from the stairs — and there was a strange, eerie quality to the sound. Something vaguely ominous, even...poisonous. It sent a nervous chill down his spine.

A short yokai, face covered with a mask that looked like a leering goblin with its tongue hanging out appeared at the top of the stairs, bearing the chimes on a long pole. They swayed and glittered as the yokai walked, leading the rest of its party behind it.

Yuya shrank back automatically. There was a strange, hair-raising aura in the air, and in fact, several other yokai seemed to tense up and stiffen as well. The party of yokai was no stranger or more frightening than any other yokai Yuya had ever seen — in fact, they were rather tame in comparison to severed heads and snake ladies. Several looked as though they’d been lifted straight out of an illustrated scroll depicting the red and blue oni: big, hulking creatures with deeply hued skin, massive tusks, and thick pairs of horns protruding from their foreheads. More of them, however, were smaller, slender. Aside from their oddly colored skin and the horns from their forehead, they might have passed for human. Some were even rather conventionally pretty, like magazine models.

At the center of the group, though he was the shortest of them, one in particular stood out. He was eerily pretty, sharp cheeks and sharper eyes, his pale skin unnaturally smooth, walking with the easy grace of a cat. Two spiraling black horns tipped green twisted out of his slicked back violet hair, and his long purple kimono was decorated with splashes of black and green flowers.

Somehow, as though the yokai had sensed Yuya’s eyes on him, his deep magenta eyes flickered in Yuya’s direction. Yuya could just barely make out how thin his pupils were, casting his unnatural eyes into an even more ominous light. Yuya shrank back, holding himself a bit more behind Selena. He still saw the brief quirk of the young yokai’s lips before he turned away, heading for the final open seat. 

Yuya was a little surprised to see the short, purple haired yokai to be the one to sit down in the clan leader’s seat, the other older, taller yokai filling in behind him. His chime bearer stood beside him, the chimes finally coming to a silent stop as he dug the pole into the dirt.

“Always one to make an entrance,” Dennis said in Yuya’s ear. “That’s the last clan. The oni.”

Yuya could have guessed that much just by looking at them. He made sure his mask was firmly over his face.

After a brief pause, a loud echo that Yuya quickly realized was the sound of a yokai clearing its throat resonated over the plaza. All of the faint whispers faded to a ringing silence. Yuya swallowed, tightening his hands into his haori.

At the head of the courtyard, the head of the dragon clan, Kaito, stood. He took a step forward, out of the hanging condensation of shimmering power that hung around his clan. He himself continued to shimmer just bright enough for him to be difficult to look at, his eyes twin shards of light, but he was more clearly visible, now. His eyes cut around the square, noting each clan. His eyes fell on the empty seat before the yurei, and his gaze narrowed.

“Unable to attend again?” he said, and his voice felt like static crawling down Yuya’s skin. He resisted the urge to hug himself and shiver.

“She is indisposed,” a soft, chiming voice said.

A woman stood directly behind the chair. Her long blond hair appeared to be soaked, dripping water onto the ground. Her kimono was drenched, too, clinging to her, as though she’d just been out in a rainstorm. 

“I will speak in her stead today,” she said, inclining her head.

“That’s Asuka,” Dennis whispered into Yuya’s ear. “She’s a rain woman. She’s been taking the place of the clan head for a while now.”

Kaito’s eyes narrowed, but he let out a little breath. A hazy steam of condensation escaped his lips from the exhale, like a cold smoke. He did not acknowledge the yurei’s words, but neither did he argue. He merely turned his gaze back out to the gathering.

“We give thanks for your attendance,” he said. “In such uncertain times, it is good to see that we all still adhere to the ancient codes.”

No one answered, but a few heads bowed in acknowledgment, including Reiji’s.

“The diviners have declared that the Bride is finally prepared,” Kaito continued. “Once again, the ancient contest is renewed.”

A very soft laugh echoed — it was so quiet that it sounded as loud as a bell. Kaito’s eyes cut across the gathering, and Yuya looked, too. It was the young head of the oni clan, his magenta eyes heavy lidded and a smile on his lips.

“You have something to say, Yuuri?” Kaito said.

Yuuri smiled, a slow, poisonous thing that made Yuya’s stomach twist.

“Did we need them to say so?” Yuuri said smoothly. “After all, I don’t think there’s a yokai here who didn’t smell the Bride.”

A few yokai shifted, and others shrugged. Yuya swallowed, but his throat was dry. He didn’t smell like that, did he? Not that he knew yokai senses, but...ugh. He smoothed the folds of his haori, pulling it around himself a bit more tightly as though to blot out any of his scent from getting through it.

Kaito’s nostrils flared, and he let out another hazy breath. He didn’t acknowledge Yuuri’s interruption further.

“The Bride has survived the first week — thus, the clans may now compete for the Bride’s hand,” Kaito said. “Though I do believe an initial claim has already been made.”0

 Now his eyes cut across to the kitsune, and Yuya tensed. However, Kaito’s eyes were on Reiji. Reiji inclined his head in acknowledgment of the attention, and then he rose from his seat, tucking his hands into his sleeves.

“The Bride is currently under my protection,” Reiji said. 

“Moving fast, are we?” Isao grunted.

Reiji flicked his eyes to him, but didn’t respond.

“As of yet, no contract has been formed. However, as the first to find the Bride, I maintain my right to guardianship.”

Kaito nodded. When he moved, his horns shimmered, as though they were coated with a thin sheen of water, and faint droplets misted off of them like tiny diamonds that hung briefly in the air before evaporating. It made him look as though he were followed by a train of mist that dissolved slowly off his hair.

“Then by the laws of the contest, all further claims must come through challenge to the kitsune clan first,” he said. “Before we continue, does anyone forfeit their participation?”

Silence rang through the courtyard. Yuya tried not to breathe — it was so quiet that he felt like it echoed when he let out even the tiniest breath. 

Kaito breathed out, and condensation escaped his lips.

“Very well,” he said. “It seems all will play. I will remind you all of the rules.”

He held out a hand, and from the cloud of mist behind him, a large, clawed hand reached out, depositing a small bundle into Kaito’s hand. Kaito took it, and then walked forward. He walked all the way to the center of the courtyard, to a round stone that made the middle of the paved area. He stood before the circle, holding out the small bundle, which Yuya could now see was a velvet pouch. Kaito opened the pouch and reached inside, withdrawing a single black pod between two fingers.

He held his hand out before him and dropped the pod right into the center of the stone. The moment the pod hit the ground, it shuddered. It began to swell — it cracked down the middle, and something unfurled from inside it. Yuya’s mouth dropped open, his head craning back as he watched the massive tree crawl out of the pod, stretching impossibly fast and impossibly tall over their heads. The roots dug into the stone, curling around the circle in the center and growing no further, but overhead, the branches spread and swelled, unfurling into a canopy over head. A branch unfolded from the trunk and spiraled downward, sprouting leaves and smaller branches as it went. As it reached its full length, a single bright white flower bloomed at its tip.

For a moment, that flower seemed to stare out at everything, and Yuya felt something cold, as though someone had just run a finger down his spine. He actually jerked his head over his shoulder to make sure no yokai had snuck up on him, jostling Dennis on his shoulder.

When he turned back forward, he watched the flower fold in on itself. The petals curled up, turned inwards, and then solidified, and swelled outward. They reformed into a bright golden fruit, not quite a peach or an apple, but something in between. The single fruit dangled from the branch, rustling slightly with the breeze that suddenly blew through the courtyard.

Kaito stepped back from the tree. It now stood right in the middle of everyone, and Yuya could barely see the oni and tanuki clans on the other side of it.

“The Bride will grant their spouse’s clan prosperity, power, and prestige,” Kaito said. “The only way the Bride may be claimed is thus: first, the guardian must be challenged for the right to become the guardian. Only clan leaders may challenge each other for this role.”

He flicked his eyes at Reiji briefly, and then back to the tree.

“Only the current guardian may ask the Bride for their hand,” he said. “Should the Bride accept, they will return here, to the tree, to perform the binding ceremony, and the game will end.”

He lifted one hand up to the fruit, but did not touch it.

“But be warned that there is a time limit. In one year, this fruit will rot, and fall from the tree, and the tree will wither. When that time comes, the Bride’s power leaves them. They will be an ordinary human, and will provide no benefit.”

He let out another condensation breath. Then he dropped his hand from the fruit, turned, and walked back to his place. He turned back around, but did not sit, standing in front of his chair.

“Should the guardian receive a challenge, they are not allowed to ask the Bride’s hand in marriage until after the challenge concludes,” he said. “Each clan leader may challenge only once. Once the guardian of the Bride, how you obtain the promise of their hand is up to you.”

Yuya tensed. He didn’t like the sound of that. Did that mean they could try to coerce him into accepting? Threaten him? Would they even eat him?

“Be warned, however,” Kaito said, eyes suddenly flashing. “Any yokai who claims allegiance to a clan, including its leaders, is forbidden from partaking of the Bride’s flesh and blood. Disobedience may result in barrier to the next contest, or even a revoking of clan status.”

Yuya let out a breath of air. That might not stop all the yokai, but at least for most of them, dinner was off the table.

Kaito folded his hands into the sleeves of his haori.

“I have completed my duty,” he said. “It is now that I must say: does anyone challenge?”

Another deafening silence rang over the plaza. Somehow, the tree with its golden fruit made the silence even worse. Yuya felt his eyes continue to wander to that fruit, feeling a strange feeling in his stomach. Was that supposed to represent him? And it would rot when his powers left him? It felt bad, and he couldn’t exactly explain why. 

A year, he thought. I have to go through a year of this.

Someone stood, then, suddenly attracting the eyes of every yokai in the gathering, and Yuya’s. He shivered as he saw it was the oni clan leader. Yuuri.

The yokai smiled, a slow, poisonous looking thing that revealed just how sharp his canines were.

“Yuuri of the Oni Clan, you are recognized,” Kaito said. “Do you wish to issue a challenge?”

“Oh, no, not yet,” Yuuri said. His voice was smooth, velvet — terrifying. It set every one of Yuya’s hairs on end. “I only wanted to...make an observation.”

His eyes wandered across the circle, almost lazily, taking his time before he finally let them rest on Reiji. Yuya saw Reiji’s ears flick straight up, one of his tails bushing for a moment before smoothing.

“It only seems so...interesting,” he said, smoothing the folds of his kimono. “How the kitsune clan was so...quick to the prize.”

Reiji’s back tensed.

“Do you suggest that I have somehow acted out of accordance with the laws?” Reiji said, his voice stiff. “That I may have cheated ? There are no rules against finding the Bride before the gathering of the clans.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” Yuuri said, twirling a strand of his hair around his finger. “If anything, I might want to congratulate you for your ruthlessness. After all, not only did you find the Bride so quickly, but deposing your sister as clan head so that you might be able to vye for their hand? It’s true what they say that kitsune are...ambitious.”

Reiji stood stiffly, and at his side, Tsukikage’s and Hikage’s fur bristled. Yuya felt his chest tighten. Reiji had...what? His sister? He had a sister? His sister had been the clan head, and Reiji hadn’t been?

“It makes one wonder,” Yuuri said, talking as though he were only speaking out loud to himself. “What your real goal is here, Lord Reiji. You’ve clearly been planning for this for a very long time. It seems an unfair advantage, don’t you think?”

“I have broken no laws,” Reiji said, his voice a monotone. “The internal dealings of my clan are not of your concern, Lord Yuuri.”

“Oh of course,” Yuuri said, with a faint laugh. “But it is cute, I think...that you even brought him all the way here with you.”

Yuya flinched. Reiji’s shoulders tensed, and suddenly, yokai were looking around, a few lifting their noses to scent the air. 

But Yuuri’s eyes were on Yuya. Even all the way across the plaza, his eyes burned into Yuya’s. On his shoulder, Dennis let out a little breath that was nearly a hiss.

“Well, looks like the game’s up,” he said. “Better stay close to the others — I doubt anyone here will risk Lord Kaito’s irritability to snatch you, but better safe than sorry.”

Yuya shuddered, stepping closer to the others as Selena fell back to stand at his side, wrapping her tail around his back and raising her hackles. Whispers and hisses rang all around the gathering, making Yuya’s head rattle with the sounds of their inhuman voices, and his heart was pounding so fast he could hardly breathe.

Reiji, however, had not moved. He watched Yuuri for a long moment. Then his gaze moved to Kaito.

“Lord Kaito,” he said, and Kaito inclined his head for Reiji to continue. “Are there laws against the Bride attending the gathering of the clans?”

Kaito considered for a moment, unblinking, his horns misting off droplets of water.

“No,” he said after a long beat. “Though I will admit, it has never happened before.”

Reiji turned his gaze back to Yuuri.

“As the guardian of the Bride,” Reiji said, slowly, as though choosing his words carefully, “it is under my jurisdiction to have him among my retinue, if I should choose.”

Yuuri only smiled back at him. He inclined his head briefly, as though to acknowledge the explanation. But his eyes returned to Yuya, peering at him past Reiji’s shoulder, and Yuya wanted to duck behind Reiji to avoid that gaze.

But then that burst of nerves was followed by a flare of irritation. How was this fair? All of them talking about him like he was a piece of meat, like he couldn’t talk for himself — like he was a fruit that was going to rot if he didn’t marry one of them who treated his life like — like some kind of game?

Suddenly angry, Yuya stepped forward, pushing his mask back. Dennis made a tiny yip of surprise as Yuya marched to the front of the group, standing next to Reiji.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, his voice surprisingly strong and loud. “I’ve been listening in this whole time. You’ve got a problem with that?”

Reiji’s eyes shot briefly down to Yuya, as though surprised, but he made no move to stop him or shoo him back. Half of Yuya wished he would — because now that he’d made himself visible, every single eye in the gathering was on him.

All those inhuman eyes felt cold, hungry, and he bit back a shudder. He noticed that Dennis had disappeared from his shoulder, but only vaguely, more focused on all the yokai that stared at him, that jostled each other to get a better look at him around the tree or their fellow yokai.

“You guys are talking about my life you know,” Yuya said. His voice shook just a bit, but he tried to speak past it. “Don’t I have the right to hear about it?”

No one answered him. Then Yuuri let out a little cough of a laugh.

“I see we have a feisty one this time,” he said, his eyes narrowing with interest.

Yuya forced himself to glare right back, refusing to be cowed. 

“I’m not a toy,” he said, trying to keep his tone even — as much as he wanted to be clear how annoyed he was, he was still surrounded by very powerful, and very hungry-looking, yokai. Best to at least keep some respect. “I didn’t ask to be this Bride thing. How come all of you get a say and I don’t?”

He swung his eyes to Kaito as he said this. Kaito only watched him back, his eyes level and unmoved. Yuya felt himself wither a bit under that sharp gaze, but he forced himself to remain standing straight.

Kaito blinked once.

“If it concerns you so much,” he finally said, “then perhaps you ought to simply accept the offer of the kitsune clan, and end the game.”

He said it so dispassionately, so monotone. It sucked the air out of Yuya’s irritation all at once. It was as though his outburst had been meaningless, the buzzing of a fly. Kaito didn’t seem to care one way or another about him — to him, he truly was just a piece in a game, and for the first time, Yuya felt so very, very small. Was this really his only option? Accept marriage or be eaten? Could he survive a year?

And...and it’s not like Reiji’s even actually offered, he thought suddenly. Reiji had never actually asked him, not since they were children. He’d said he wouldn’t. So Yuya couldn’t accept even if he wanted to.

A gentle hand touched his back, and Yuya looked up. Reiji did not look down at him, his eyes fixed on the gathering, but his hand was soft against him, steadying — reassuring. Even though Reiji didn’t look at him, somehow through that touch, Yuya could sense Reiji agreeing with him, that it was wrong that his life was treated like a game. It made his confidence flood back into him all at once, and he stood taller.

The tension in the gathering, however, had increased. There were whispers running around the clan groups, and eyes were still fixed on Yuya. Yuya was starting to wonder if it had been smart to show himself to all of them. What would happen now?

The whispers all silence when someone stood up on the other side of the gathering. Yuya didn’t see him at first, as the tree was nearly directly between him and the kitsune’s side. But when his large black wings spread out and he stepped to the side, his bright golden eyes briefly met Yuya’s, before flashing up to Reiji’s. Kurosaki, Yuya remembered. The head of the tengu clan.

“I formally issue a challenge against the head of the kitsune clan for possession of the Bride,” he said, his voice ringing out and silencing the tension in one fell swoop.

Yuya sucked in a breath. His eyes darted up to Reiji’s.

Reiji’s eyes narrowed, fixed on Kurosaki’s. His hand pressed a little harder against Yuya’s back.

“As the head of the kitsune clan, I accept the challenge of the tengu,” he responded after a long silence. “As challenged, I will set the date.”

The tengu nodded curtly.

“One week from today,” Reiji said. “I will send further information to you through my vassals.”

And with that, the tension rose once more, and then fell. It seemed that that was it. A challenge had been issued, and no one else could challenge until it had finished. Yuya let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as the gathering began to slowly break off into clumps of whispering yokai. He allowed Reiji to gently guide him back into the center of his group, the other kitsune and vassals falling in around them with eyes fixed on passing yokai.

“Wow,” Sora said, chewing on some piece of food that might have been dried meat. “That was pretty gutsy of you, Yuya. I like you.”

Yuya felt suddenly very tired, and very shaky. Far too much had just happened all at once.

“What happens now?” Yuya asked quietly.

“Now, we take you home,” Reiji said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “And you sleep.”

“But...”

Reiji smiled at him, a small and gentle expression.

“I won’t leave you out of things, Yuya. But for now, you should rest. We can talk more later.”

Yuya did feel so tired. His legs were getting weak beneath him.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Okay.”

It wasn’t until he had laid down in bed, nearly half asleep, that he remembered what he’d forgotten to ask.

Reiji’s sister...what happened?

Chapter Text

A hand slammed down onto Yuzu’s desk as she was tapping her papers into place, and she looked up, blinking with surprise.

She ought not to have been shocked, she realized, as she found the glower of Masumi hanging over her. Yuzu grimaced. She ought to be more surprised that it had taken almost three days for Masumi to confront her.

Masumi’s eyes flickered over to Yuya’s empty desk, and then back to Yuzu.

“Your boyfriend’s not here?” she said sarcastically.

“He has drama club,” Yuzu said as evenly as she could manage. “And we’re not dating, Masumi-san.”

Masumi blew out, causing her bangs to flutter before her forehead. She didn’t acknowledge Yuzu’s response.

“Well?” Yuzu asked, tired of being glared at. “Can I help you with something?”

“You can explain what you were doing at my family’s shrine the other day.”

Yuzu flashed a look around the classroom. There were still a few kids milling about in groups, gathering their things, chatting about places they’d stop on the way home, some getting ready to start their cleaning duty. Yuya had run off to make it to drama club the second the bell had rung, his papers and books stuffed haphazardly in his bag. Yuzu didn’t have choir today, so she’d taken her time getting her things organized, so that she could study when she got home. She should have hurried, so she wouldn’t have to deal with Masumi.

But...she frowned to herself, looking up at Masumi.

Was it... worth it? Masumi seemed to know something about...exorcism, or whatever it was. She seemed, at least, to know more than Yuzu. Could Yuzu trust telling her about all of this? Or at least some of it? Getting information from her about what she could do? She’d promised Yuya she’d help, and she knew that Yuya didn’t like it. But she was going to do what she could.

“Are you just going to keep staring at me, or what?” Masumi said. “I asked you a question, you know.”

“You actually didn’t,” Yuzu pointed out. “You made a statement.”

Masumi glowered, and Yuzu knew she was being petty, but she didn’t particularly care right now. She huffed, sliding her papers into a folder and then sliding the folder into her bag. She stood up, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Hey!” Masumi said, following her as she made her way out to the hall. “I’m not done talking to you!”

Yuzu clenched her jaw.

“And do you want to talk right in the middle of class where everyone can hear?”

Masumi rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. What could you possibly have to talk about that would be a secret? I just want to know what’s going on with you and Roget.”

The memory of that discomforting man with the slicked back hair and the foreign accent made Yuzu shudder automatically. She still could see those eyes of his, leering at her with a strange, knowing look in the back of her mind.

“Nothing’s going on,” Yuzu said. “I don’t know him.”

“But he was telling the truth? Your father is Hiiragi Shuzo?”

“Masumi-san, his name is on the director’s board at the theater school. You can find that information anywhere.”

She stopped in the hallway to turn and face Masumi, and was surprised to see the strange, measured look on Masumi’s face. She was considering Yuzu, not glowering, for once. Her eyes moved from Yuzu’s face to something behind her, and then back. Automatically, Yuzu looked over her shoulder, but she saw nothing there.

“It’s weird,” Masumi said, her voice soft. “I’ve always thought it was weird.”

“What is?” Yuzu said, not liking the way that Masumi’s voice was so...calm for once.

“Can you see that thing? Behind you?”

Yuzu felt a chill run down her spine. She whipped around in spite of herself, heart hammering. But she looked down at an empty hallway. She looked at the windows, the ceiling, the walls, the floor, straight down the hallway again. Nothing.

“Interesting,” Masumi said. “You can’t see it, can you?”

“See what ?” Yuzu hissed, whipping back to Masumi.

Masumi’s eyes were narrow, considering.

“It’s weird,” Masumi said. “Because it doesn’t seem to be able to see you , either.”

Yuzu’s lips parted. She couldn’t explain the chill that ran across her skin from Masumi’s words. It...what was ‘it’? A yokai? If it was...what did Masumi mean that it couldn’t see her ? And Masumi could see yokai ?

Masumi slung her back over one shoulder, pressing her lips together. Then she let out a short burst of a sigh.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s find someplace else to talk.”

“What if I don’t want to talk?” Yuzu said, but she knew that it was a lie.

Masumi considered her again, with that strange, measured expression.

“I think you do,” she said. “Because whatever it is you’re looking for, I think I might be able to help you.”

It was a clear afternoon, and the breeze felt nice, only little dots of clouds marring the otherwise seamless blue sky. Behind them, the fountain made music with its drops that cascaded down the tiers and into the water below. Yuzu clutched the strawberry juice she’d gotten from the nearby vending machine, but she didn’t feel very thirsty. Masumi drank her canned coffee, but more out of obligation than interest, it seemed, her gaze somewhere else.

“Isn’t it a little busy here?” Yuzu asked, looking around the park. There were people all over, getting drinks, buying from food cards, pushing children in strollers, walking dogs. It didn’t seem like a great secret conversation place.

“That’s the point,” Masumi said, leaning back against the bench next to Yuzu. “Everyone here is busy thinking about their own lives. They won’t pay attention to us. And they don’t tend to stick around for long in big groups, especially in modern cities. It’s the safest place we could talk save for holy ground, and I can’t set that up yet.”

It made some strange sort of sense, but Yuzu was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Masumi could see yokai .

“So?” Yuzu asked, after another long silence passed between them. “Where do we start?”

“We start with asking what you’re looking for, exactly,” Masumi said. “Why did you come out to the shrine? What did you want to find there?”

She shot Yuzu a sidelong look.

“...were you looking for information about your family?”

“No!” Yuzu said, perhaps a little too quickly. She silently berated herself. Come on, that would have been a great cover! She wasn’t ready to tell someone else about Yuya’s problems. But, unfortunately, she’d already committed. “I mean...no. When Roget-san mentioned my family, it was the first I’d ever heard of it.”

Masumi nodded. She took another long, slow sip of her coffee.

“So then, what? Why’d you come so far out of the way?”

Yuzu was trying to think fast. Explaining Yuya’s situation wouldn’t just take a lot of time, but it might not be safe. Was it safe to let an exorcist know that Yuya was...whatever he was? Was it safe to let her know about Reiji and the other yokai that lived next door? What would she think about the whole thing? And she hadn’t asked Yuya’s permission to tell anyone about his situation, either.

“It’s...a friend of mine,” Yuzu said slowly. “They’ve been talking about strange things happening to them lately. I was helping them research it, and it started to look a little supernatural.”

She shrugged.

“I’m a bit of a skeptic,” she lied, she had believed in yokai since Yuya had told her she could see them, since she’d seen the bite marks appear on his skin as a child out of nowhere. “But I said I’d help. I tried that shrine because it was older, and I thought I might find someone who could...well, do an exorcism or something.”

Masumi looked at Yuzu, still out of the corner of her eyes. Yuzu couldn’t tell if she bought it or not.

Whether she did, or didn’t, Masumi nodded.

“I guess that’s logical,” she said. “It’s actually pretty smart of you to go looking for the older shrines.”

“Um, thanks?”

Masumi finished off the last of her can, and tossed it into a wastebasket next to the bench.

“Exorcism is real,” she said. “And so are yokai. So, sorry to challenge that skeptical part of you.”

“And what, you can see them?” Yuzu said, hoping she sounded skeptical enough. She was, sort of. She’d never imagined someone other than Yuya was out there who could see them, especially not another person in their school.

Masumi, to her surprise, grimaced a bit.

“Well...yes,” she said. “But I’m still in training. Mostly what I can see are outlines. Heat hazes. If I squint, I can see them in more detail.”

She squinted now, staring at something that, obviously, Yuzu couldn’t see.

“I think that’s a tanuki, over there,” she muttered. “Digging around in the wastebaskets.”

Yuzu obviously couldn’t see anything. But as she watched, she did see a bit of paper go flying out of the wastebasket, though no one had touched it. She sucked in a breath, tensing.

“Don’t worry. It’s not very powerful, and it isn’t paying attention to us,” Masumi said.

“Were you just...born with this power?” Yuzu asked.

Masumi nodded.

“There are five clans of exorcists,” Masumi said, “going back generations. There used to be six which...the sixth was yours, I guess.”

Masumi shot her a look again, as though gauging her reaction. Yuzu wasn’t even sure how to react. It was still such a crazy thing to think about: her father ? An exorcist?

“It would explain why we don’t have any photos of my grandparents,” Yuzu mumbled.

Masumi hummed softly, then looked back out at the park. She slid forward to lean her elbows on her knees.

“Well, I looked into it. There was a Hiiragi family, almost a decade and a half back. But theirs was one of the families where the power was starting to run thin. The main family only had one son, and he was scrubbed out of the records, so I can’t confirm for sure it was your dad.”

Yuzu pressed her lips together. Her father...part of some ancient exorcist family? Was this why he never spoke about his parents, because they had kicked him out for not having powers, or something like that?

“It sounds like since the son couldn’t inherit, and both the clan heads ended up passing away, the Hiiragi family was considered lost completely,” Masumi said. “And so far it does look like you don’t have any powers yourself.”

“Can...can anyone learn ?” Yuzu asked.

Masumi frowned. She looked at Yuzu, eyes narrowed.

“Why do you want to learn?” she asked. “For your ‘friend’?”

She said it carefully. Yuzu wondered if Masumi thought that Yuzu was talking about herself, if she thought that Yuzu was the one that was dealing with a yokai problem. She almost laughed. She was almost going to say yes, to continue to lies, the one she was telling and the one that Masumi was believing in.

“Because,” came out instead, looking down at her hands. “If this is something that was part of my past...I want to understand it. I want to understand why there are so many secrets in my life.”

She twisted the bracelet around her wrist, her usual nervous habit. All she had left of her mother. No photos, no name, not even a whisper of the woman that her mother had been. Just this.

When she looked up, Masumi was considering her carefully. She let out a long, slow breath.

“If you’ve inherited even a little bit of power,” she said. “Then it’s possible that with some work, you could release it.”

“And what? You would teach me?” Yuzu said. “After all of the head butting we’ve done?”

Masumi’s cheeks actually darkened. She whipped her head away from Yuzu, staring instead somewhere else. Yuzu frowned. Why was she kneading her hands into her knees like that.

“It’s not like you made it any easier!” she snapped, but her voice sounded a little funny, a little high pitched. Yuzu tilted her head, confused.

“You’re the one who started bothering me first,” she said, a little annoyed in spite of herself.

Masumi muttered something.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Masumi said, whipping her head back towards Yuzu, cheeks still dark. “Anyway, don’t you even care why I started paying attention to you?”

“What?” Yuzu said. “I thought you just got mad at me for winning a school festival thing or something.”

“That wasn’t it!” Masumi grumbled. “It’s because...well, it’s weird . Yokai avoid you.”

Yuzu blinked. ...huh?

“I don’t understand it,” Masumi said, running a hand through her hair. “Normally, I watch them walk through people, play pranks on them, be mischievous, at least. But it’s like you’re invisible to them most of the time.”

“That’s impossible,” Yuzu said. “I’m sure there’s been plenty of yokai around me.”

“That’s just it! There’s always plenty in the school, enough that I can’t even see all of them. But whenever I catch sight of one, it acts like you’re not there.”

She glowered, clearly frustrated by the mystery.

“I see them walk around you, turn away from you randomly when you get near as though they’re distracted by something else. The only time I’ve ever seen one take notice of you was a time you started talking about yokai in a class from some book, or something, I don’t even remember it was. It’s like unless you acknowledge they’re there, they don’t know you exist.”

“That’s... ridiculous ,” Yuzu said, heart hammering. “How could that be possible?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I started watching you!” Masumi said. “I’d never seen anything like it! The only thing I could think of was that somehow you scared the yokai so much that they steered clear, but after a while I realized they weren’t even paying attention to you.”

“But what does that mean?” Yuzu said.

“Again, I don’t know,” Masumi said. “Like I said, for a while, I just thought you were dangerous . Like...a rogue exorcist.”

She said that last part in a hushed whisper, her breath harsh, eyes flicking around. Yuzu frowned, brow knitting.

“A rogue exorcist? Why would that be so bad? Aren’t all exorcists helping each other?”

“Not rogues. They’re dangerous,” Masumi said, leaning onto her knees again. “They don’t come from established families. Their powers come out of nowhere, and they tend to cause a lot of trouble — mixing up the yokai and human worlds too much as they use their powers.”

Yuzu shivered. Rogue exorcists...people with powers that came out of nowhere...did that have anything to do with Yuya and his powers? He definitely wasn’t part of an exorcist family. Was that what he was ? Not just the “Bride,” but a rogue exorcist?

“But clearly, you’re not,” Masumi said, rubbing the back of her neck. “You have a family line, and whatever’s happening between you and yokai...well, it’s weird. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before.”

She glowered at Yuzu again, a more familiar expression.

“So, yeah, I tried to make sure I kept an eye on you,” she said. “But then you had to turn everything into some kind of competition, and I wasn’t about to back down.”

“ I did?” Yuzu said incredulously. “That was all you !”

“No way,” Masumi insisted. “ You started it! Remember the sports festival?”

“ You were the one who yelled that whoever got the most balls in the net would win!”

“But you were the one who gave me that look in the relay race, goading me into trying to beat you!”

They glared at each other for a moment. Then — she couldn’t help it — Yuzu snorted. Masumi blinked with surprise. Then she snorted, too. Then, a moment later, they were both laughing. Yuzu couldn’t see for the tears in her eyes, hugging her stomach, and Masumi leaned back against the bench as she tried to smother her laughs into her hands.

“Oh my god,” Yuzu said. “We sound like five year olds.”

“Yeah,” Masumi agreed, wiping away a tear of laughter. “Kinda. You more than me.”

“Oh don’t start again,” Yuzu said, rolling her eyes.

But that set them off again, laughing until Yuzu’s sides hurt.

“I think this is the first time we’ve actually had a real conversation, huh?” Yuzu said, rubbing at her eyes with her palms.

“I guess so,” Masumi said. “Bet you never thought that was going to happen.”

“At least, I didn’t think it was going to be about exorcism and stuff,” Yuzu said, laughing again.

Masumi rolled her eyes and shook her head, but she was still smiling.

“So,” she said. “You still need help figuring out stuff for your ‘friend’?”

Yuzu twisted her bracelet around her wrist, and it glittered in the sunlight. She took in a deep breath, steadying herself after her laughs subsided. Then she nodded, once, sharply.

“Yes,” she said. “If you’re willing to help me out...then I would like to ask for your help.”

Masumi grinned.

“I’m an excellent teacher,” she said, lifting her chin proudly. “We’ll make an exorcist out of you yet.”

Yuzu rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. And for the first time a while, despite everything that she’d learned today...well...she felt pretty good.

Chapter Text

Yuya groaned, pressing his face into the pillow. He couldn’t believe how exhausted he was. At least it was finally a weekend. No plans, no club activities, no homework (though he probably should do that), and no yokai.

That thought, however, made his mind involuntarily conjure up the image of Reiji’s face — silver haired, violet, inhuman eyes, silver fox’s ears sleek among the strands of his hair. He shoved his face deeper into his pillow as his cheeks suddenly heated up.

He pushed himself out of bed with a jolt, more to escape his own thoughts than anything else. He could have slept in, but suddenly, sleeping sounded like it wasn’t going to come easily again. Maybe he’d eat something. Maybe he’d call Yuzu and see what she was up to, or he’d send a text to Gongenzaka. It had been a while since they’d hung out, since he ended up going to another high school — but he’d probably be happy if Yuya swung by the dojo.

Or maybe he could go next door and see how Reiji and everyone were doing.

His treacherous cheeks got hot again as he once more thought of Reiji’s face. He ground his hand against his forehead to try and chase it away, and headed for the fireman’s pole to slide downstairs.

He could smell his mother’s cooking already, and his stomach rumbled. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t slept in. He wouldn’t have to reheat breakfast.

His mother looked back over her shoulder as Yuya padded into the kitchen, smiling.

“Up early, are we?” she said, flipping a pancake. 

“It’s always the days you can sleep in that you don’t,” Yuya said, smiling back.

He pulled out a chair and slid into a seat, resting his hands on his chin. The smell of pancakes was a warm, comforting smell, and he closed his eyes a moment just to breathe it in. Despite everything else going on in his life lately, some things were constant — his mother was one of them, and he found himself briefly revelling in the stability of it.

“You sure you’re awake?” his mother joked, raising both eyebrows at him as he opened his eyes. 

She flipped the pancake out of the pan expertly and dropped it with a few others onto a plate. He sat up as she plopped the plate onto the table and slid it at him, and he only barely caught it before he slid right off the table. One of the pancakes kept going, landing on the table.

“Guess I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately,” Yuya said.

It was as close to the truth as he’d ever come with his mother. He’d told her about the yokai as a child, but he was sure she thought it was just the imaginary fancy of a child. As he grew older, he didn’t want to worry her, so he’d tried not to say anything. It helped that for whatever reason, the yokai never showed up in his house. It and Yuzu’s house were his one safe space.

At least, they were , he thought, as he suddenly realized that someone was sitting across the table from him. He blinked. He blinked again.

Sora blinked back at him, a mischievous smile plastered on his lips. He looked more human than before. His horn was gone, and he was actually wearing normal clothes: a plain blue jacket over a black shirt, instead of the kimono that Yuya had seen him in before. He rested his chin on his hands, kicking his legs back and forth under the table.

“What are you doing here?” Yuya hissed, shooting his mother a look. Had she seen him?? No, of course not, his mom couldn’t see — 

“Oh, Yuya, you’ve met Sora, haven’t you?” his mother said, smiling as she turned around with another plate, and slid it in front of Sora. “He moved in with the people next door, and you’ve been over there, haven’t you?”

Yuya couldn’t even respond. He could only stare, his mouth hanging open as Sora’s eyes lit up at the pancakes. He grabbed the bottle of syrup and poured an extremely generous amount, practically drowning the bread in it.

“Yup!” Sora said cheerfully. “Yuya-kun’s come to visit, so we’re already best friends!”

Yuya’s mother looked positively charmed, getting that light in her eyes she got when sweet little boys tugged at her heartstrings. Oh no .

“Have — when did you —” Yuya spluttered.

“He’s such a polite young man; he brought back the casserole dish you forgot to bring home the other day,” his mother said, turning back to her bowl to scoop more pancake batter into the pan. “I’m so glad everyone enjoyed it!”

“Your cooking is great, oneesan!” Sora said, after swallowing a massive bite of pancakes. An inhumanly massive bite of pancakes. Yuya was pretty sure he watched Sora unhinge his jaw to fit it all in.

Yoko put a hand to her cheek, blushing and looking way too happy.

“Oh, you’re just too sweet! You know, when he first came over, Yuya, he asked if I was your older sister!”

Yuya narrowed his eyes at Sora. Sora popped another inhumanly large bite of pancakes into his mouth and grinned back at him with syrup stained lips. He winked. Ugh. So much for Yuya’s safe space.

“What are you really doing here?” Yuya said in a low voice. “And how come she can see you?”

“Keeping an eye on you, of course,” Sora said, pouring more syrup onto his already drowning pancakes. He poured a glob onto his finger and ate it by itself, his eyes half lidding in bliss at the sugar. “It’s easier if I’m a wanted houseguest, right? And I get to eat yummy food.”

He took another huge bite, chewing slowly before he answered the second question.

“And I can let people see me if I want,” he said. “Strong yokai can do that, for a little while at a time, at least. Reiji went to school with you, didn’t he?”

That was true, Yuya admitted to himself. He didn’t like to think about that, though. How many other yokai had he missed in plain sight because other people were reacting to them, and so he thought they were human? It made him feel a little weird — a crossing over of worlds that usually wouldn’t touch.

“Are you going to eat those?” Sora asked, pointing at Yuya’s pancakes.

Yuya glared at him, bending protectively over his breakfast. Sora shrugged, and began to scoop syrup and bits of drowned pancake crumbs off his plate with his finger to lick it off. Gross.

“I’m glad you’re settling in so well into the neighborhood,” Yoko said, turning around with her own plate of pancakes. She slid a few off her plate onto Sora’s plate, and then plopped a few more onto Yuya’s, though he hadn’t even started eating his yet. “How has it been? Need any help moving anything in over there?”

“Nah, we’re good,” Sora said. “But we’re glad to have such nice neighbors.”

He gave Yoko a winning smile, and Yoko looked so charmed that Yuya had to stuff pancakes into his mouth to prevent himself from gagging visibly.

“Well, you’re all always welcome over here. I’ll have to introduce myself to the rest of the household sometime,” Yoko said.

Yuya almost choked on his pancakes, pounding his stomach. Yoko looked at him with some concern, and Yuya waved his hand quickly to try and wave her concerns away. Still, as he forced himself to swallow, he tried to imagine Yoko meeting Reiji. “So, mom, here’s the guy I promised to marry when I was eight, and also, he’s a kitsune who’s trying to protect me from a bunch of other yokai who want to eat me or marry me!”

No. No way. Having Sora at his house was weird enough.

“We’d be happy to have you both over sometime,” Sora said sweetly, though, and he gave Yuya a very smug wink that made Yuya glower at him. “Actually, Yuya, Reiji wanted to know if you’d come over for a little today. He wanted to talk to you about something.”

Yuya sat up a little straighter, his annoyance at Sora’s appearance fading in the wake of his curiosity. Reiji wanted to talk? About what? Judging by Sora’s overly casual expression and tone, it was probably something yokai related, something that he couldn’t talk about in front of Yuya’s mom.

He looked quickly at his mom — normally, he didn’t have to ask permission to go places; she expected him to be in and out with just a text here or there to let her know that he was still alive. But for some reason, he felt like he had to run it by her first, if only silently. If only she knew the full story, he thought. If she knew, what would she do? Would she lock him in the house until his eighteenth birthday? Would she march straight to the first yokai she could find and try to fistfight them? Probably the latter. He shivered to think about that fight — he felt bad for the unfortunate yokai in that situation.

She smiled back at him, oblivious to his internal monologue.

“You should go on, then, Yuya! I don’t have anything for you to do around the house today.”

“Thanks,” Yuya said.

He hesitated a moment longer, then quickly stuffed some pancakes into his mouth.

“There’s not a rush,” Sora said, but Yuya was already polishing off his breakfast, and pushing off from the table.

“I’ll just get dressed,” he said. “Meet you over there.”

Sora made a face, like he had no intention of leaving this dining table until there was no more chance of more food. Yuya rolled his eyes and hurried back to his room, really hoping that Sora wouldn’t keep seducing his mom while he was gone. He could only take so much weird in one day.

Tsukikage answered the door when Yuya arrived, his veil parted to reveal his fox-like face. His eyes softened at the sight of Yuya, and he opened the door fully to let him in.

“Ah, Yuya-dono,” he said. “I had hoped that Sora remembered to pass on Reiji-dono’s message.”

“Is he not back?” Yuya asked, sending a furtive look at his house. “I hope he’s not bothering my mom.”

Tsukikage let out a little coughing sound that might have been a fox laugh.

“He can be overbearing,” he said. “But I’m sure that he will mind his boundaries. If he does not, Reiji-dono will have words with him.”

Tsukikage bowed to beckon Yuya into the hallway.

“Reiji-dono is just this way, near the gardens,” Tsukikage said. “Would you care for some tea?”

“Oh, I just ate breakfast, so I’m okay, but thank you.”

Tsukikage bowed again, and led the way down the hall. He slid the door open for Yuya and bowed yet again to let Yuya through. Yuya’s cheeks got a little hot. He wished they’d all stop treating him like he was some foreign dignitary; it made him feel weird.

He stepped through the sliding doors and into a room that was fresh with the air of the garden and its flowers. A soft chime rang from the breeze that flooded in through the open doors leading out onto the porch. From here, Yuya could see the familiar gardens that he had played in as a child, though now significantly wrangled back into shape from the overgrown state they’d been in just a few weeks ago.

Reiji sat on his knees on the porch, but his ears twitched and he turned at the sound of Yuya stepping into the room. His eyes softened, and the small smile that made Yuya’s heart flutter weirdly came to his lips.

“Yuya,” he said, and he said his name so softly, as though it were a prayer, that it made Yuya’s stomach do flip flops. “I had wondered if you might visit today.”

“Sora said you had something you wanted to talk about,” Yuya said, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

Reiji nodded. He spread one hand out to the spot on the porch beside him, and Yuya padded over. He sat down, letting his legs dangle over the side of the porch.

“I wanted to discuss the upcoming challenge,” Reiji said. “About what to expect, and...any concerns you might have.”

“Oh, yeah,” Yuya said, as though he’d just remembered — as though he hadn’t been thinking about it near constantly since that night two days before. He remembered those harsh eyes of the tengu clan leader, the sharp yellow framed by sharper dark bangs. “In a week, right?”

“Less, now,” Reiji said, eyes sliding to the garden. “Four days.”

Yuya nodded, feeling his throat tighten.

“So...what happens in a challenge?” he asked.

Reiji huffed softly, and it sounded decidedly fox-like.

“Close enough to how it sounds. Kurosaki Shun and I will fight each other. It is a physical contest.”

His lip curled slightly, as though the concept was distasteful to him.

“It’s traditional, though it seems strange to me that the marriage to the Bride is determined through nothing more than a contest of strength,” Reiji said. “But yes, that is what it entails.”

“That’s it?” Yuya said. “You guys just beat each other up?”

A sudden, horrible thought struck him.

“You don’t kill each other, do you?”

Reiji shook his head.

“No, the clans wouldn’t agree to such a contest,” he said. “Losing a clan leader is a serious blow, and takes a great deal of bother to replace.”

Yuya’s shoulders relaxed. Thank goodness. It was bad enough to know that people were fighting over him; he didn’t think he could handle finding out that they would kill each other because of him, too.

“The battle continues until one party surrenders,” Reiji said. “This may bring either of us to the near brink of death, though we will have an impartial third party who will step in to call the match before it goes too far.”

“Impartial?” Yuya asked. “Who would they pick?”

“A yokai who is not affiliated with one of the clans,” Reiji said. “As I understand, there is a lottery of unaffiliated yokai from which a name will be drawn for each contest. We won’t know who the judge is until the day of the challenge, so that neither side can pressure them.”

Yuya nodded slowly.

“I’m still not sure how I feel about...the fighting part,” Yuya said. “I...will you get hurt?”

He shot Reiji a worried look. Reiji met his eyes, and his gaze softened.

“I am flattered by your concern for me,” he said. “Yes, I may be injured. But I have no intention of losing.”

Yuya had a million other questions he wanted to ask. If Reiji did lose, and this Kurosaki guy ‘got possession’ of Yuya, would he take Yuya away from home? Would Reiji be able to challenge a second time for him, or would his turn be considered gone and passed since he’d already claimed Yuya once? How soon would someone be able to challenge again — would Reiji have time to recover if he was seriously injured from this fight?

There were other questions, too, questions that he was struggling to put words to.

“Ah, also. Before I forget once again.”

Yuya’s questions all fizzled out, distracted as Reiji reached into the folds of his kimono.

“I keep meaning to return this to you, but I’m afraid I’ve been quite distracted.”

Yuya’s eyes widened as he saw Reiji’s hand open, and saw the crystal pendulum sitting on his palm. His hand flew up to his throat, and found it empty of the chain that was always there. How long had it — when did he — he remembered, then, suddenly. That day the yokai possessing Michio had attacked him, he’d sliced Yuya’s neck and broken the chain. That long ago?

“How did I forget it was even there?” Yuya said, taking it back.

“You’ve been distracted as well, I think,” Reiji said with a faint smile.

Yuya blushed. He checked the chain, and found that it had been repaired. It was so neatly done that he couldn’t tell where it had been broken. He felt a relief flood through him as he strung it over his neck again, feeling its familiar weight fall against his chest. He held it tightly in one hand, drawing strength from the cool feeling of it against his palm.

“My dad gave this to me, you know,” he said, smiling in reminiscence. “I was crying about something. I’m not sure what. And he pulled it out of a pocket and showed it to me.”

Reiji listened quietly, his eyes on Yuya. The gaze made him feel suddenly out of sorts, and he coughed to get the rest of his story out.

“He told me that life was like a pendulum,” he said, holding it out. “That when you feel awful, it just means the pendulum will eventually swing back the other way.”

He let the pendulum swing back and forth between them, and the pair of them watched it as it glittered in the light.

“I think,” Reiji said softly, “that your father was a very wise man.”

Yuya smiled.

The moment, however, dissipated, as Hikage suddenly appeared behind them in a swirl of smoke. His veil was parted, and he looked — overwhelmed. His face was fully fox, like Reiji had been in the yokai world, a testament to how shaken he was. Yuya tensed.

“Hikage? What’s wrong?” Reiji said, his ears standing straight up.

Hikage’s fox lips pulled back a moment into a nervous looking snarl, like an agitated dog.

“Reiji-dono, I apologize for the interruption, but...you have a visitor.”

Reiji’s brow furrowed. Clearly, he was as surprised as Yuya.

“A visitor? Who?” Reiji said.

Hikage seemed about to respond when the soft swish of fabric caught both Yuya’s and Reiji’s attentions. Yuya looked up towards the door behind them on the other side of the room, and found himself staring at a tall, slender woman clothed in a plain dark red kimono. Her skin was fair, almost porcelain pale, and smooth as glass, inhumanly so. Her auburn hair was twisted into twin tails, and her angled, thick-lashed eyes were such a pure lavender that they looked fake. They also looked markedly like a fox’s eyes.

A soft, kind looking smile spread over her lips, completely at odds with Hikage’s agitation and the the sudden tension in Reiji’s frame.

“Hello, little brother,” the woman said, in a smooth, almost melodious voice. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Beside him, Reiji was as tense as a taut wire, and some of it leaked over to Yuya, though he couldn’t have explained why Reiji was feeling so stressed. The woman was unsettling, in the way that yokai were, but...was this his sister?

“...deposing your sister as clan head so that you might be able to vye for their hand? It’s true what they say that kitsune are...ambitious.”

That’s right, Yuya thought. If what Yuuri said was true, then Reiji had pushed his sister out of the position of clan head. For what? For Yuya’s sake? Why?

“Sister,” Reiji said, stiffly, rising to his feet and inclining his head slightly. “I didn’t realize you were coming to visit.”

“I’m sorry for the surprise,” the woman said, smiling that gentle smile. “I only happened to be nearby. I thought I’d give the old house a visit, for reminiscence’s sake, especially since I recalled you’d recently moved back.”

Her eyes were kind and soft, but her words, despite their lack of any cruelty, seemed to set Reiji on edge. Yuya had never seen him like this before. He wondered what could have possibly happened between him and his sister to make him like this.

He didn’t stand up, or say anything, concerned that he might draw unwanted attention. Even if he didn’t sense anything wrong from Reiji’s sister, Reiji’s reaction was enough for him to know that he should be cautious.

Despite staying quiet, though, her eyes shifted over to Yuya anyway. A kind smile spread over her lips.

“Are you going to introduce me, Reiji?” she asked. “Or should I?”

One of Reiji’s tails briefly bushed out and then smoothed out.

“Yuya,” he said, stiff. “This is my elder sister, Ray. Ray, this is Sakaki Yuya.”

“H-hi,” Yuya said, scrambling to his feet. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Yuya,” she said.

Yuya blinked, lips parting.

“Again?”

Ray tilted her head a moment, pigtails moving with her. Her eyes flickered to Reiji, and then back. Then she smiled again.

“Ah, well, it was a long time ago, for a human. I used to live here, too. We’ve met a few times before. You were always tagging after my brother, though.”

She laughed, and it was a sweet, gentle sound. It did nothing to make Reiji relax, though, and Yuya frowned. He had met her before? He felt like he should remember something like that.

“Did you have a reason to visit?” Reiji asked.

“Didn’t I just say? I was in the neighborhood. Come now, am I not allowed to visit my little brother?”

She shook her head with a wry smile, tucking her hands into her kimono sleeves.

“I hope he hasn’t treated you poorly, Yuya. My little brother can be a little rough around the edges and awkward with people, but I promise that he has a good heart.”

Yuya blinked. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting out of Reiji’s mysterious sister, but this polite, almost teasing woman wasn’t what he’d had in mind. He smiled at her, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Reiji and everyone have been really great all this time, so you don’t have to worry about me getting the wrong idea or anything.”

Something shifted in her eyes, at the edges of her lips, like her smile was about to slip but it didn’t. Her gaze fixed on him all of a sudden, unblinking, her pupils dilated. He felt his own smile slipping ever so slightly, suddenly unnerved, as though he were a tasty looking rabbit in the eyes of a wolf. Or, well, a fox. It occurred to him somewhat embarrassingly late that if Ray was Reiji’s sister...she was a yokai, too. She looked so human right now, and he’d been spending so much time around yokai, that it had somehow felt easy to forget.

But Ray was a yokai. If Reiji hadn’t taken her place, she would have been the one vying for his hand in marriage. Now that she couldn’t put a claim on him, did he smell like food to her? Was that why Reiji was so tense?

But the moment passed, and her eyes were soft again, so quickly that Yuya almost thought he’d imagined the moment of anxiety.

“That’s good to hear,” she said. “I must say, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you...I always knew the Bride would grow up to be pretty, but I didn’t expect you to be so handsome. Reiji is very lucky.”

Her fingers lifted to his cheek, then, briefly and ever so slightly caressing his skin. He shivered — her fingers were cold . And his cheek suddenly throbbed, as though with the memory of a long ago injury.

Reiji’s hand shot out, snatching her by the wrist and lifting her hand away from Yuya.

“Do not,” he said in a low, calm voice, “touch him.”

Ray smiled the same, sweet smile at him, as she gently tugged her wrist from Reiji’s grip.

“So jealous,” she said, laughing softly. “Don’t worry, little brother. I understand.”

She tilted her head at him, her pigtails shifting.

“I only wonder,” she said. “If you’re so protective of him, why haven’t you simply asked him to marry you yet?”

It felt for a moment like the whole room turned to ice. Yuya couldn’t pinpoint the source of the feeling, but the way that Reiji’s and Ray’s eyes locked onto each other, for all the calmness in their expressions, seemed to belie some silent battle happening only in their minds. He felt suddenly invisible, forgotten.

Then Ray smiled again, shaking her head.

“Excuse me,” she said. “That was rude of me. It’s not my business what happens from now on. Think of it as just a sister worrying about her little brother.”

She reached up to tossle his hair, and he was still stiff, but some of the tension flooded out of the room. Reiji let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Why are you really here, Ray?” he asked.

Ray rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“I told you. I’m here to check in on you. And to see the Bride everyone’s all in a kerfuffle about. I heard you stood up to the clans.”

She turned to Yuya for this part, raising her eyebrows as though impressed. Yuya blushed.

“I...I just got a little carried away,” he said.

“It sounds very brave of you,” she said. “But you both aren’t busy today, are you? Perhaps we could have some tea together.”

She looked towards Hikage, who still stood off to the side, and he straightened. His eyes flickered to Reiji. After a moment, Reiji sighed again.

“Please bring us some tea, if you would, Hikage,” he said. “And let Tsukikage and the others know we have company.”

Hikage bowed, eyes flickering to Ray again, and then backed out of the room, sliding the door shut behind him. Ray watched him go, then turned back to Reiji.

“Won’t you show me around the garden while we wait, little brother? I’m curious to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Reiji looked like he would have rather have done anything else. But he took in a sharp breath.

“I’d be happy to, sister,” he said in a flat monotone. “Yuya, why don’t you —”

“He can come along, can’t he?” Ray said with a soft laugh. “Have you had a chance to see the gardens in full, yet? I’d imagine you’ve been busy.”

“Oh, I, uh,” Yuya said, starting to say I’m good , as it seemed like Reiji didn’t like the idea of him coming along — and if Yuya was completely honest, whatever silent power struggle was going on here, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of it — but Ray slid her arm into his, as though he were escorting her like some proper lord and lady. Though, she was almost a head taller than him, so he felt dwarfed.

Reiji’s ears stood up and his tails bristled, as Yuya briefly froze. Ray met Reiji’s gaze, and Yuya couldn’t tell if she was challenging him, or simply teasing.

Yuya coughed, to distract Reiji’s sudden tension.

“I don’t mind, I’ll come along,” he said, in as soothing a voice as he could.

He had no idea what kind of history was between Reiji and his sister, and he didn’t want to get in between them, but...he didn’t like seeing Reiji like this, either. He wanted to ask him, to figure out what had happened. But for now, it was best to play along. He wanted to find out why Ray made Reiji feel this way, and...and if there was something he could do. Did their relationship have anything to do with him? That sounded selfish to think but...if Reiji had deposed his sister so that he could participate in the contest for the Bride...

Either way, Yuya wanted to get to the bottom of it. So he’d play along for now.

Reiji looked like he wanted to argue further, but maybe he came to a similar conclusion as Yuya. So he relented, lips tight.

“Very well,” he said, clearly trying his hardest to keep his voice steady.

He stepped off the porch, leading them into the garden. Ray let out the tiniest breath, a coughing sound that reminded Yuya of Dennis’s laugh. Maybe that was what all kitsune sounded like when they laughed.

“He likes you quite a bit,” she whispered, her voice tickling his ear. “He doesn’t usually get so passionate.”

Yuya shot Reiji a look, wondering if he could hear. Were his ears better than Yuya’s?

“We...we’ve been friends a long time,” he said.

They walked around a rose bush, and Ray smiled, squeezing Yuya’s arm.

“I know. I remember I used to watch the two of you playing all the time. He took quite a shine to you, even back then.”

Yuya’s own memories were so shaky of that time. Hearing about them like this...it piqued his interest. He wanted to hear more. And hadn’t he been the one to think how he wanted to learn more about Reiji? Even if he and his sister were a little at odds right now, she would know what he had been like as a child, right? He briefly danced around the idea of asking about it.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember you all that well,” he ended up saying. “I was pretty young.”

She nodded.

“I understand. Human memory can be so fleeting. It’s something we yokai fail to remember when dealing with humans, sometimes.”

Her fingers tightened briefly on his arm and then relaxed.

“But what about you, Sakaki Yuya?”

Yuya blinked.

“Me? What about me?”

Ray paused, glancing down at him. He couldn’t move well with her arm still tucked into his, so he had to look up at a strange angle to meet her gaze. Her expression had gone very quiet, the smile gone from her face, leaving behind only a measured, considering look. He felt very small underneath her gaze all of a sudden.

“Reiji obviously cares for you,” she said. “What are your feelings towards him?”

Yuya knew he was staring at her with his mouth open, but he couldn’t help it. He shifted, lifting one hand to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck and play with the back band of his goggles.

“I...well, I...he’s really...he’s a really good friend, and I...I mean, it’s been eight years since we’ve seen each other again, and...”

Ray’s measured gaze didn’t shift. She didn’t blink. Her eyes were suddenly more foxlike, more animal. He felt her arm tighten around his.

“I see,” she said softly. 

Then a strange look crossed over her face. It was...almost...sad? The tiniest, saddest smile tugged at her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Yuya opened his mouth — to do or say what, he didn’t know. Ahead of them, Reiji suddenly whipped around, eyes wide. His tails bristled, and he let out a snarl.

Then Ray put her hand over Yuya’s eyes, and Yuya saw and heard nothing else.

He ran after his ball, scurrying across the garden. It rolled towards the porch, and he felt a brief anxiety that it would roll underneath, and he’d have to crawl under to get it. Who knew what kind of yokai would be hiding down there, and it would be cramped and there would be spiders. Maybe he should go back and ask Reiji for help.

But the ball hit against one of the support beams instead, rolling gently back in his direction. Relieved, he scooped the ball into his arms, and straightened up.

As he did so, he saw the girl sitting on the edge of the porch. He hadn’t noticed her before, so focused was he on retrieving his ball. Her legs kicked back and forth slowly, leaning back on her hands. He wasn’t sure how old she was, but she looked older than him. Like a teenager, maybe, or maybe even older than that. She watched him with a considering, silent stare, and Yuya stared back, mouth hanging open.

“You’re so pretty,” he blurted.

She blinked at him, once. Her pigtails, so long that they touched the ground behind her, moved slightly along with the motion of her feet. Then she smiled at him, and lifted one hand. She beckoned him closer.

Almost without thinking about it, he did. He stepped towards her, still holding his ball against his chest. 

She reached down towards him, touching her fingers to the side of his face. Her hands were so soft, like clouds. He shivered, though, because they were cold. She tilted his face up towards her, eyes staring down at him with such intensity that he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Automatically, nervously, he smiled at her.

Her eyes flashed. She jerked her hand back from his face so quickly that her claws snagged against his skin, cutting thin lines in his cheek. She surged up to her feet as he cried out in pain, slapping a hand to his bloody cheek. He jumped backwards, shocked by the sudden change in her demeanor. Her eyes were suddenly wild.

“Don’t look at me,” she hissed, her voice suddenly strangled, harsh, angry. “Don’t you dare look at me with that — with that — smile —”

Panic flooded him as he felt the air shift, felt it crackle over his skin. He tried to scramble backwards, away from her, but his heels caught on the ground, and he fell backwards, his ball flying from his arms. She hissed again, her hair suddenly all standing on end, and there were fangs in her mouth — 

“Yuya!”

A smaller shape stepped in front of him, holding out his arms protectively. Yuya trembled, staring up at the back of Reiji’s silver hair.

Before them, the girl calmed. Her hair smoothed, and her eyes grew still again.

“What did you do?” Reiji asked, his voice steady but accusing.

The girl blinked at him, only once.

“Keep that thing away from me,” she said, in a flat, emotionless voice.

She turned, and she stalked back into the house. Her tails — she had six of them — swooshed behind her, all bushed out, before she disappeared.

Chapter Text

Yuya gasped, automatically flinging himself forward — and found that there was no longer a hand over his face. He stumbled, swaying, and realized that he was sitting on his knees. He blinked. His head was so foggy . Hadn’t he just been in the garden with Reiji and...and Ray? But then she’d put her hand over his eyes, and...

He didn’t feel like he’d been unconscious, though his head pounding. It was more like...for a moment, he’d just been frozen, and now he was...

Where was he?

Yuya shifted, and realized then that his hands were tied behind his back. He twisted his wrists experimentally. The rope was soft, and it didn’t bite into his skin, but the knots were tight enough that he wasn’t going to squirm out of that any time soon. When he tugged a bit more, he found that the bindings were tied to a pole. He craned his neck back to try and see it, but all he could make out was a thin, short wooden pole right behind him. Could he maybe at least stand up, slide his wrists up to get them off the pole?

Where was he anyway? He swung his gaze around, eyes adjusting to the dark.

The ground under his knees was loose, a mixture of sand and soil. Overhead, he could see some light filtering through thin slats of wood, as though he were underneath a porch of some kind, or in some kind of poorly built cellar. It smelled like dust, but he didn’t see insects or anything.

He did see a suddenly shifting wall of fur just feet away from him as he faced forward again.

Yuya flinched, a gasp choking against his throat as the massive thing shifted, turning until the head swung towards him. The head was as large as he was, each pointy ear twice the size of his head. Big lavender fox eyes stared at him, considered him, and his mouth went dry.  She could swallow him in a single bite, she was so big — because there was no one else this could be. Ray. This was Ray, in her true form. She was enormous, all dark auburn fur with magenta patches that grew in swirling patterns that seemed to shimmer in the light. Just one of her tails was twice the size of his entire body, if not bigger.

He stared at her, mouth hanging open in spite of himself, and suddenly extremely aware of her fangs — each one the length of his head or longer.

She blinked once at him, like a cat. Then a very human like smile pulled at her fox’s lips.

“I didn’t think you’d wake so quickly,” she said. Her lips didn’t move with her words, but they seemed to vibrate from somewhere in her throat. 

Yuya swallowed, a sudden tremble running through his limbs. Was...was she going to eat him? She wasn’t a clan head anymore, so...so what else could she want with him?

“I’m frightening you, aren’t I?”

She blinked at him again, and he couldn’t speak. Then her ears folded back, and....the rest of her did too. He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. One moment she was there, a massive fox that filled almost the entire space, and the next, she just folded in on herself like dizzying origami, and then she was human-shaped again.

She had slipped into the form between, the way Reiji had in the yokai’s realm. Her face was a fox’s, but her body was human, her mass of tails splayed behind her as she tucked her hands into the sleeves of her kimono. After a moment more, her fox’s face shifted back into a human’s, leaving behind only her fox-like eyes and her fox’s ears straight and pointed in front of her pigtails.

Yuya shrank back automatically as she stepped towards him, and she stopped. That same, strange, almost sad smile pulled at her lips.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t eat you.”

Yuya tried to find his voice, but his throat was so dry. When he managed to speak, it came with a cough.

“W — why am I here?” he said.

She smiled at him again, a distant expression, but she didn’t answer. She only stepped closer to him. He couldn’t go far, tied as he was to the pole, but he still shied back as she reached for him. Her hand cupped his cheek, gently tilting his face up towards hers. Her eyes searched his face, as though she were looking for something there. Whether or not she found it, he wasn’t sure, but his heart began to relax when she finally released him.

“Do you remember me at all?” she asked.

Yuya hesitated. He wracked his brain, but aside from a few blurry images of a girl with pigtails, seen from behind or far away, he couldn’t really come up with anything concrete.

“Not...not really,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She raised her eyebrows, as though she wasn’t sure why he was apologizing.

“You know that I was the clan leader before Reiji, though, don’t you?”

Yuya swallowed, trying to get moisture back into his throat.

“I...yes, I — I heard that,” he said. “But I never...I never asked —”

“You were supposed to be my bride,” Ray said, crouching down in front of him. Her fingers reached out again, trailing along the edge of his jaw. “The kitsune clan worked hard, in secret, to locate you before anyone else. We moved to this home so that I would be close to you.”

She considered him, her very sharp looking nails so, so close to his cheek. He felt a strange twinge of ghost pain, as though he’d been scratched.

“The kitsune clan has always been ambitious. It’s no surprise that eventually my sweet little brother grew tired of simply supporting me, and decided that he wanted my position himself.”

Yuya swallowed.

“Reiji — Reiji’s not like that,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why. It just...it upset him. Reiji wasn’t cruel, and he wasn’t the kind to turn against his sibling for no reason...was he?

Ray smiled, though, and there was a flicker of something he didn’t recognize in her eyes.

“Of course not,” she agreed, surprising him. “You and I are the ones who know him the best, after all. Reiji is cunning, and shrewd. But he wants little to do with leadership.”

She tilted his face up towards her, baring his throat, and her claws danced underneath his chin. He nearly whimpered involuntarily, some primal bit of him panicking at the feeling of those claws brushing his neck.

“No,” Ray said. “It was all for you .”

She stood, releasing him, and he let his head sag down with a relived gust of air. She turned away from him.

Her words, though, rattled around in his head. All...all for him?

“Only the clan leader can pursue the Bride, after all,” Ray said, wandering towards the other end of the cellar. “And Reiji simply couldn’t handle the idea of anyone else having you. Not even his sister.”

Yuya’s stomach twisted. Was that really true? Reiji cared about him that much? Or...or was it his power that he wanted? No, of course not — but that would mean...that Reiji’s feelings... He thought back to one of the few clear memories he had of his childhood, of Reiji. The day that he had left. He’d looked so serious, and the way he’d squeezed his hand...the sudden way the words had tumbled out of him, “ when I return, will you marry me? ” What if...what if the reason he had left was...

“He hasn’t asked you to marry him yet, has he?”

Yuya startled out of his thoughts. He shifted back on his heels, twisting his wrists against their bindings.

“I — no,” he said.

Ray glanced over her shoulder at him. A faint, unreadable smile danced over his lips.

“Just like him,” she whispered, so quiet that Yuya wasn’t sure if he’d been meant to hear her.

She turned away again, and bent down, retrieving something from the ground that Yuya couldn’t see. She seemed to consider whatever she held a moment, holding it out of his sight.

Then he heard it — a deep, rumbling sound that he at first thought was thunder.

He soon realized that it was a growl. So deep, so loud that it rattled his bones, that he tasted it in the back of his mouth as it rolled towards him from the darkness that laid at the end of the cellar. Ray looked up.

“It took you some time to find me,” she called into the dark. “If he’d been taken by anyone else, he’d be dead already, little brother.”

Something massive shifted in the darkness. Once again Yuya couldn’t help but gape. At first, all he got were little shimmers of silvery light, dancing through the fur as it moved with the gigantic body. He caught the glint of fangs, the flash of huge violet eyes, the pupils shrunk to slits.

Reiji’s massive fox head swung into full view — like Ray, he hardly fit into this small space. Yuya’s breath caught in his throat. Oh ...he was beautiful . His fur was the color of moonlight and burnished silver, metallic and yet soft and almost ghostly. Darker markings of a nimbus gray rippled down his sides, and he could just make out the black-tipped tails that lashed behind him. This was what Reiji really looked like, Yuya realized.

He thought for a moment that it ought to frighten him to realize this. Reiji, his friend, for as human as he looked most of the time, was actually this enormous creature, so big that he could have swallowed Yuya in a single bite, large enough to crush him with one paw. Ray’s form had certainly taken him by surprise, even frightened him.

But even snarling, his fangs bared, all Yuya could think about was how beautiful Reiji was, how rightly the form fit him.

“Ray,” Reiji snarled. “You have gone too far.”

“Have I? And how will you punish me for it, clan leader?”

Reiji snarled, that rumbling sound that seemed to shake the whole room. He tried to press forward — and immediately flinched back, letting out a strangled, pained sound. Yuya jumped at the spark that flared across the air, and something shimmered vaguely into view. It was like...like a net. Or like bars, semi see-through and crisscrossing the whole length of the cellar, blocking Reiji from reaching where Ray and Yuya were.

Ray watched impassively as Reiji cautiously drew back. A faint trickle of blood stained his head from where he had pressed against the invisible bars.

“Reiji!” Yuya cried. “Are you okay?”

Reiji growled faintly, eyes still fixed on Ray.

“I’m all right, Yuya,” he said. “Has she hurt you?”

“N-no, I’m fine, I promise,” Yuya said.

Reiji nodded, observing the shimmering bars again, as though attempting to find a way through them.

“You and I both know I’m better at weaving wards than you,” Ray said. “Pressing through that will be painful — and taking it apart will take you precious time.”

Reiji growled again. But after a moment, he drew back again, and then folded into himself. He rose up again in the form Yuya was most familiar with, human in face and shape, with his tails and ears visible. All of his tails bushed out with agitation, his eyes flashing.

“What do you mean by these actions?” Reiji said. “As a member of the kitsune clan, you have no right to interfere in the —”

“I belong to no clan, now,” Ray said, shrugging. “Remember? I renounced it all when you defeated me. My actions are only my own. I represent no one else.”

“Then why —”

For a moment, Ray’s eyes seemed to soften. She looked so... tired, Yuya thought.

Then she raised her arm. Yuya only barely saw the glint of the knife she held out to her side before he felt the pain lance across his cheek.

It was so quick, so clean, that it took a moment for him to recognize the pain, the feeling of warm blood trickling down his cheek. He gasped, eyes widening as he sagged back, pulled against his bindings to try and lean out of the way of another strike. He hadn’t even seen her move! She still stood exactly where he had seen her, but the knife — the knife was bloody now.

She lifted the knife to her nose and inhaled, her nostrils flailing.

“I can understand why he drives you mad,” Ray said. “His blood smells unlike anything else.”

“Ray!” Reiji roared.

Yuya tried to breathe slowly. He wasn’t horribly hurt, it was just his cheek. That was it. The blood ran down to his chin, though, and it felt strange and worrying.

“I’m fine,” he said, but he was too breathless with shock to put much force behind the words. “Reiji, I’m — I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Ray fixed her eyes on Reiji, still holding the blood knife near her face. Reiji looked like he might explode with rage, his whole body trembling.

“What do you want?” he hissed through grit teeth, clearly trying to stay calm. “What is it that you want, Ray?”

Ray’s eyes softened again.

“I want you to put down your burdens, little brother,” she said. “I want you to stop trying so hard. We both know you never wanted to be clan leader. It’s enough, little brother. You can stop fighting.”

“If you lay another finger on him, Ray, I swear —”

Another whoosh of air, and another delayed burst of pain. Yuya’s other cheek opened open with a long slit that began to drip blood. He couldn’t help it this time — he let out a little whimper of fear.

“Renounce your claim as clan leader and revert the right to me,” Ray said. “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll take care of your duel with the tengu boy. I have more chance of defeating him than you do.”

“Ray,” Reiji said, and this time, his voice trembled . The anger was still there in his eyes, but his cheeks were so pale, now. His eyes were on Yuya instead of Ray, his whole body trembling. “Ray, stop.”

“Once the challenge is dealt with, I’ll marry the boy. Don’t worry, Reiji. I won’t touch him. You and he can continue to live happily together. He’ll be mine in name only. You won’t have to do anything more. You should have asked me to do this in the first place.”

“I will not let you touch him,” Reiji said. “I refuse to let you touch him. I’ll protect him.”

“You’re doing such a good job of that right now, aren’t you?”

Yuya gasped, as another fresh cut opened on his shoulder. He squirmed, trying desperately to get free of his bonds.

“Ray, please,” Reiji said, and now his voice was low, trembling, afraid. “Stop it.”

“I will,” Ray said. “When you do as I’ve asked.”

“I can’t.”

Ray tilted her head slightly. Then another slash opened on Yuya’s other shoulder. He cried out, trembling.

“You can’t protect him,” Ray said. “You can’t keep him alive for a whole year. And even if you could, then what? Then he leaves you. And what will all of your hard work have been for?”

“It will have been to preserve his ordinary life, his choices,” Reiji said. “I do not regret my decisions, Ray!”

“Will you regret him when I’ve sliced him to pieces in front of you?”

This time, when a fresh cut opened against Yuya’s side, tearing his shirt, he cried out, choking on the scream. That one had been deeper than the last. He struggled for breath.

Reiji threw himself against the half visible bars. He lurched back almost immediately, angry red lines opening against his hands and shoulders, cuts like Yuya’s. Yuya cried out.

“Reiji, don’t — don’t hurt yourself!” he cried.

Ray’s eyes flickered back to him for a moment. Her eyes narrowed, and then something strange flickered over her eyes. Something like...anguish? She looked back at Reiji.

“You could push through those bars,” she said. “But it would hurt you. It would leave you injured and vulnerable for your challenge with the tengu boy. You would lose, and you would lose him anyway.”

She tilted her head again.

“The scent of his blood will be spreading, now,” she said. “Smaller yokai can fit through the gaps in the bars of my warding. They might eat him, you know, before you could even dispel part of my ward.”

“Ray, stop,” Reiji said, his voice almost begging now. “That’s enough. Don’t hurt him.”

Ray watched him with almost a detached expression.

“I only want to release you, Reiji,” Ray said softly. “You don’t have to fight for him anymore. You don’t have to destroy yourself for him.”

Reiji’s chest heaved. Yuya felt the warm wetness of his blood soaking through his shoulder, the pain twanged as he tried to get his wrists free.

“Reiji,” he said. “Reiji, I — it’s okay. It’s okay, Reiji.”

Reiji’s eyes shot to him. Yuya’s eyes were blurring with tears of fear and pain, but despite it, he smiled. He smiled for Reiji, if nothing else.

“Reiji, it’s all right,” he said. “I...I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself for me. Please.”

He remembered the way he’d looked, sick and barely conscious as he fought off the poison he’d removed from Yuya’s blood. The challenge with the tengu was so soon. Would he be hurt then, too? To protect Yuya? To protect Yuya’s own selfish desires to live like a normal person? He didn’t want to watch Reiji destroy himself anymore, either. If he could just end this whole stupid thing right here — and if Ray kept her promise, and he could still see Reiji after that...then that would be okay.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his throat choked. “Just...I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Reiji’s eyes widened ever so slightly, as though in horror. Ray blinked very slowly at Reiji, tapping the bloody knife against her hand.

“See?” she said softly. “Even he doesn’t want to see you do this anymore. Give up, Reiji.”

Reiji’s eyes fell into shadow for a moment as his head sagged forward, bangs covering his eyes. His shoulder slumped. In front of him, Yuya saw Ray’s shoulders relax.

Then Reiji unfolded. It was barely more than a blink, a breath, but it made him dizzy, as suddenly all at once Reiji took up over three times as much space as he had before, his true form spilling out of him. Ray hissed almost involuntarily, her face slipping into its fox form for a moment with the surprise. She lifted up the blade, but when Reiji slammed his whole head against the bars, the ground shook, and she lost her grip. The knife clattered down to the sandy floor.

“Enough,” Reiji rumbled. “That’s enough.”

Fresh lines of blood sprouted along his head, in his fur, but he did not flinch back. He pressed forward.

“Reiji!” Ray shouted, and her voice briefly broke with — fear? Concern?

He slammed his head against the bars again and this time, they began to bend like the strands of a spider’s web. Reiji shoved even harder, and they began to dig into him so deeply that they disappeared into his fur, as though they might slice him into ribbons.

“Reiji!” Yuya shouted. “Reiji, don’t!”

Reiji’s growl shook the whole cellar, shook Yuya’s bones. He gave one more mighty shove — and the ward exploded.

A rain of dust and smoke billowed out from the destruction. Ray swore. Yuya snapped his eyes shut and bent his head against the rush of dust that nearly suffocated him. For a moment, the world was nothing but hot, rushing wind and darkness — 

And then he felt arms wrapping around him, gentle, cradling him carefully as though not to jostle his wounds. His hands flopped free of their bondage and he sank back, coughing, into Reiji’s arms.

“Do not throw your life away so easily,” Reiji murmured. “You deserve better than that.”

Yuya coughed, his eyes watering. 

“You...Reiji...” he gasped, squinting through the dust.

Something warm dribbled onto his face. He squinted through his watery eyes — and nearly gagged.

Reiji was bleeding everywhere . Back in his human form, his kimono was shredded, horrible lines of bleeding cuts scored across his face and body. He breathed heavily and slowly, as though trying to lessen the ragged sound of his breaths.

“Reiji!” Yuya said, reaching for him and wincing at his own pain. “Why did you — Reiji, why —”

Hot tears flooded down his cheeks, stinging his cuts. He could barely see through them, just the blurred, reddened form of the bloody Reiji who still held him with all the gentleness in the world despite his own wounds.

Reiji pressed a hand to Yuya’s cheek for a moment, then carefully wiped away the tears.

“Because I chose this,” he murmured. “I told you. I chose to protect you. But you never had the choice to be a part of this. I want you to be able to choose.”

He drew in a long, shaking breath.

“So I cannot accept your terms, sister,” he said, his voice still shaking from the pain, but stronger now.

Yuya tensed — in the sudden explosion, for a breath he’d forgotten she must still be here. Would she attack while Reiji was weak?

But when he twisted his head, squinting through his tears, all he saw was Ray standing there, still, watching the two of them with an unreadable expression. She said nothing. She only watched them, her knife left forgotten on the sandy floor. He couldn’t make out her emotions through his blurred eyes.

Her lips parted, as though to speak. 

Then movement flashed on either side of her, and she stiffened. Two shadowy figures appeared — no, three...four! The flash of twin blades appeared, hovering inches from her neck on either side as Tsukikage and Hikage appeared, their veils drawn. Sora crouched in front of her, his hands glowing with a crackling green-purple energy, and behind her, Selena snarled, her tail lashing as she held her own blade to Ray’s back, effectively pinning her in on all sides.

Ray’s eyes flickered back to Reiji and Yuya. For another long moment, she said nothing.

Then she let out a long, low sigh.

“I truly only wanted to spare you the pain,” she murmured. “You’ll only drag it out this way, little brother. There’s no way this doesn’t end in tragedy — I offered you the best chance you both had.”

Then she closed her eyes, and then, as though she were paint that someone had just smeared with a hand, she blurred and vanished.

Selena swore, and Tsukikage and Hikage whipped around, standing back to back and holding their katana outward.

“She’s gone,” Reiji murmured. “She will not...she will not return. Not now.”

He swayed, and Yuya gasped. He struggled to get back up to his knees so that he could steady Reiji by the shoulders.

“You’re bleeding,” Reiji said. “I need to...heal you.”

“ I’m bleeding? Look at you! ” Yuya said, panic rising in his voice. “We need to get you to a — shit, we can’t use a hospital, can we, where do we — what do we —”

“I will...be fine,” Reiji said. “I’ll be...fine....”

He swayed again, and this time, Tsukikage and Hikage both appeared behind him, to catch him against the shoulders. His eyes fluttered — he was barely conscious. Yuya’s hands shook in the air where they had just been holding onto him a moment ago. His palms were stained red, and he could barely tear his eyes away from the color.

“My...my blood,” he mumbled. “It’s — it’s supposed to be good for yokai, right? If you drink mine, will you —”

“No,” Reiji said harshly, eyes flashing suddenly. “No, Yuya. I will not exploit you like that.”

Yuya’s red hands curled up, still shaking. And something like anger bubbled up in his stomach. Something that made his whole body tremble, a cocktail of pain and fear and anger and frustration that boiled up inside him and made him want to start screaming.

He grabbed Reiji by what was left of his kimono and dragged him forward. Tsukikage and Hikage both jumped, but they seemed to realize Yuya wasn’t assaulting him. Yuya grabbed Reiji against the back of the neck and pressed him against the cut on his shoulder. Reiji groaned and tried to squirm weakly out of Yuya’s grip, but Yuya only pressed him closer.

“You keep saying that you want me to be able to make my own choices,” he said fiercely, though his voice shook. “But then you don’t let me!”

His hands trembled, but he clung tighter to Reiji.

“I want to help you,” Yuya said. “Because I want to.”

For a moment longer, Reiji only hung in his arms, his body trembling, his breath hot against Yuya’s neck.

“You’ve got to lick them to heal them anyway, right?” Yuya said, hiccuping on what was nearly a giggle, his own exhaustion and pain finally catching up with him.

Yuya felt Reiji’s shoulders slump.

“You’re right,” Reiji murmured. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Yuya. I...I haven’t truly been...respecting your wishes, have I?”

He hesitated a breath longer. Then Yuya sucked in a breath as he felt Reiji’s tongue against his shoulder. He shuddered, the strange, tingling feeling of Reiji’s tongue running down the length of his cut. His fingers tightened into the back of Reiji’s kimono, and Reiji’s arms slid around him. 

He was gentle, handling Yuya as though he were made of glass. Yuya might have been annoyed, but he was still in pain, so the gentleness was welcome. Reiji cleaned away the blood of the first cut, and moved to the second. Yuya felt a flush coming over him as he realized how intimate this was all of a sudden. It felt...almost sensual, the feeling of Reiji’s tongue on his skin. He actually felt a moan catch in his throat, and he swallowed it back just in time.

He felt the strength flooding back into Reiji’s arms by the time Reiji was on the last of the cuts. His arms held Yuya more firmly, less like he was clinging to something to hold himself upright. He went slower than he had in the past with Yuya’s wounds, likely because he was pausing to drink a little of Yuya’s blood before he closed the cut. Yuya’s own pain faded, though, as Reiji went, enough for him to be hyperaware of how it felt for Reiji to deal with the cut on his side, how he had to hold in a yelp as he realized how Reiji was in a really awkward position and Yuya’s mind was thinking decidedly not PG-13 thoughts — 

But Reiji lifted away from him, leaving Yuya’s skin unblemished. Most of his own cuts looked to have begun to heal, and there was more alertness in his eyes.

“Did you get enough?” Yuya demanded, glaring at him to let him know that he wouldn’t want to know that Reiji had held back.

Reiji’s eyes crinkled, softening into that look that made Yuya’s heart skip a beat.

“I will be more than fine,” he said softly. “And you?”

“You healed all my cuts, so I’m fine.”

Reiji’s eyes drew together, his smile fading.

“I don’t just mean physically.”

In the haze of awkwardness that had accompanied Reiji’s tongue on him in....awkward places, Yuya had briefly forgotten why they were doing this in the first place — only briefly, though. He felt a shiver coming on as he remembered it all in vivid detail. It seemed like every day was trying to outdo itself in how it could traumatize him, huh?

“I...that was a lot,” Yuya said. “But I...I might...”

He felt dizzy all of a sudden. Exhausted . He swayed, and Reiji caught him. He drew Yuya close to him.

“I’m so tired,” Yuya mumbled, feeling tears catching in his half closed eyelids. “I’m just so tired .”

He didn’t just mean of today. And he thought that Reiji understood, because he squeezed Yuya’s shoulders.

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with pain. “I’m so sorry, Yuya.”

Yuya fought to stay awake, but he couldn’t manage it. He didn’t protest as Reiji bundled him up into his arms, standing slowly.

“Why?” Yuya murmured, as Reiji began to slowly carry him out of the cellar. “Why...why do you...for me...”

But he couldn’t stay awake. If Reiji answered the question, Yuya could not hear it.

Chapter Text

Eight years ago

Reiji carefully laid the ink across the page, expertly maneuvering the brush without spilling a drop. He lifted it, gently, and placed it down again on the paper, placing the next stroke carefully.

A squeak sounded outside his window, and his wrist twitched with the surprise. The brush swerved off course, and he found himself staring down at a ruined calligraphy sheet. Foolish , he admonished himself. To be so easily distracted by such a small sound . He would have to work harder.

Pressing his lips together in annoyance, he put the page aside, and unrolled a new page, weighing down the corners. He dipped his brush into the ink again, and began to draw out the character again.

Another squeak, louder this time. Once again his wrist jerked, and his line wavered.

Annoyed, now, Reiji smacked his brush down on the table with a bit more force than necessary. He stood, padding over to the sliding door and cracking it open to peer out between the paper doors.

He thought it might be a squeaky floorboard, one of the servants passing by on the patio. Or perhaps his sister, teasing him again with some strange human toy she’d found, like she had last week with what she’d called “a rubber duckie.”

But he didn’t see either of those things. Instead, he saw...a boy.

He was a distance away, standing near the hanging open garden gate of the Akaba Estate’s grounds. He was human, or at least, he must have been, judging by the scent. But humans shouldn’t be able to see yokai, and this boy was waving his arms around wildly, trying to knock away the little flying spirits that darted around his head.

One darted in and grabbed a hank of his hair, pulling on it, and the boy let out another squeak of pain.

“Stop it!” he said, waving his arms, his round eyes filling with tears. “Stop it! Leave me alone!”

He batted at them, but they only giggled, zooming around his head out of his reach until they could zoom in and yank on his hair again. The boy stumbled forward, into the garden, as he tried to escape the teasing yokai.

Reiji grit his jaw. Annoying , he thought. If the boy would just stop making those annoying sounds, he could focus on his work.

He opened the door all the way, and marched straight over, hopping off the porch to reach the boy. 

“Enough of that,” Reiji said, swatting at the little yokai. “Away with you.”

The yokai hissed at him, but they knew better than to test him further. Even a second child of a clan leader was too powerful for a yokai of their strength to deal with. They glared and stuck out their tongues, but zipped away and disappeared into the garden.

There, Reiji thought. Maybe now he could focus.

But as he let his hand fall back down, he realized that the boy was staring at him. His big, round, apple-red eyes shone with the remnants of his pained tears, and his hair was mussed by the goggles he’d pushed over his bangs. Reiji drew back slightly. Why was this human looking at him like that?

“Can you see the monsters too?” the boy asked, then.

Reiji blinked. The monsters...was that what the boy thought yokai were? And he could see them...

Reiji’s eyes flickered to the house next door to them, and then realized. This must be the boy. Ray’s fiance. He’d not yet laid eyes on the Bride himself until now. He was smaller and rounder than Reiji had imagined him to be.

“They’re called yokai,” he corrected. “And you’d be better off if you stayed closer to your own home.”

The boy sniffled.

“I tried, but...they chased me,” he said, hiccuping.

Reiji let out a little huff. If this boy was so very important to the good of the clan that they’d completely uprooted their whole household to be near him, they ought to do a bit better of a job at keeping the little yokai away from him. He’d mention as much to his retainers later.

“Then stay inside,” Reiji said shortly. “And stay out of our garden.”

He turned, planning to go back in to finally finish his calligraphy practice.

But he stopped, as he felt a small hand curl into his kimono, tugging gently on him. He stopped, and looked back over his shoulder. The human boy was still looking up at him with those big, shining round eyes of his.

Then he smiled. And Reiji couldn’t understand it — how he could have such a guileless, trusting smile. It made his stomach twist in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Can you tell me more about yokai and stuff?” the boy asked.  "Nobody else can see stuff like that. You’re the first other person I’ve met! Do you want to play with me?”

“I’m very busy,” Reiji said, tugging himself out of the boy’s grip. “I have studying to do. Find someone else to play with.”

The boy’s smile fell as Reiji turned away, and marched back up onto the patio. Before he’d gotten the door closed all the way behind him, though, he saw the boy still standing there, still watching him go.

The boy cupped his hands around his mouth.

“My name’s Yuya,” he called. “I’m a boy. Let’s play sometime, okay?”

Reiji huffed, and closed the door. He turned back to his desk, and his two ruined sheets of calligraphy. As he stared at them, however, he found he had very little interest in going back to it. He only stood there, staring at them, and seeing nothing except for the image of that boy standing there, calling after him.

Reiji frowned, running a hand down his face. Why had he made so certain to mention that he was a boy anyway? Humans were so peculiar.

He shook his head, leaving his calligraphy for the time being. Instead, he would find Tsukikage and Hikage. They would relay a message to his father, to let him know that the Bride needed a better watchdog. Really. This should be Ray’s job.

He was meditating on the patio the next day when he heard a very annoying thump. He kept his eyes closed, drawing his attention to his breath. Another thump, this time one that shook the patio slightly. He pressed his lips together tightly. What on earth was someone doing, making such a racket?

When the third thump came, his eyes flew open with annoyance — and he found the Bride staring at him.

He was standing on the ground in front of the patio, tilting his head to see under Reiji’s bangs. When he saw Reiji’s eyes open, that brilliant smile burst over his face again.

“Oh! I thought you were sleeping!” he said.

He bounced his ball off the ground, making the thump sound that had distracted Reiji.

“Are you busy now? Do you want to play with me?”

Reiji looked over to the garden gate — hanging open, again. What on earth were the gardeners doing? He pressed his lips together as he leveled his gaze at the boy.

“I,” he said, slowly, so as not to confuse his simple human brain, “am very busy. A high-ranking yokai does not have time to simply run around and play all day.”

The Bride blinked at him, as though he didn’t get it. He bounced his ball on the ground again.

“But you were just sleeping,” he said. “You have time to sleep?”

“I was — never mind,” Reiji said. Why did this human insist on being so annoying? “I have much to do.”

He stood up sharply, spinning on his heel. He paused a moment when he heard the Bride let out a little gasp — and then felt a hand touch his tail.

He jumped. He hadn’t even realized he’d let out his tails — had this boy really startled him so much that he had dropped part of his transformation?? He jerked his tails away, spinning around. The Bride looked up at him with wide eyes, his hand still held half out.

“You’re so pretty,” the boy blurted out.

The admonishment that Reiji had been about to let out died on his tongue. He stared, shocked silent by the boy. The Bride stared at him with shining, wondering eyes. There wasn’t a hint of fear as he looked at Reiji in his half form, with his tails and his sharp fox’s ears and the way his pupils turned to slits. He looked instead at Reiji as though awestruck, and Reiji found for one of the first times in his life that his mind simply went blank.

He shook himself back to himself.

“Don’t touch my tails,” he managed to snap, and then he turned and hurried back inside, snapping the door shut behind him.

He only realized then that his cheeks were burning .

He stayed in the house as much as possible for the next few days. If the Bride found himself in the gardens looking for Reiji again, Reiji didn’t know about it. He wasn’t sure why he was avoiding him. It was only because he was annoying, and distracting, Reiji told himself. That must be it.

“Have you met him yet?” Reiji asked his sister once, almost involuntarily.

She hesitated, chopsticks halfway to her mouth. She did not take the bite of rice, just staring at it. It was a curious reaction. Normally, his sister liked to tease; she almost always had a mischievous smile on her lips, a biting witticism to retort, a funny illusion to spook someone with. She was carefree in a distant sort of way — as though the illusions, the pranks, the teasing, they were all an excuse not to ever have a true, deep conversation with her. It had frustrated him throughout most of his youth. She was supposed to be the future clan head, and he was supposed to support her. She never let him. She never seemed to take anything all that seriously — not in the least this attempt to secure the Bride before anyone else had even learned of him. If she had made any attempts to befriend the Bride, to ease the eventual proposal later down the line, he didn’t see her doing so — yet another duty she flouted, to the despair of her tutors.

So to see her stare at her food with a peculiar, deep look in her eyes, a sort of roiling that seemed to rise behind her irises like a storm about to break, was an unsettling moment.

“No,” she finally said. “I haven’t.”

She popped the rice in her mouth, suddenly light and airy again, as though the moment had never happened. As though Reiji had only imagined the stormy look in his sister’s eyes.

“Why not?” he asked. “He’s the Bride, isn’t he? Shouldn’t you be taking steps to secure his hand when he comes of age? If he doesn’t care for you before then, other clans may swoop in — the sooner you can secure the Bride, the less time you’ll have to hold out against —”

“Don’t you lecture me too, little brother,” she said in that old teasing tone of hers, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “I get enough of it from mother and father.”

He grumbled and pushed her hand away from his hair, fixing where she had tousled it. But he could not get that strange, stormy look out of his mind.

Why go to all this trouble to find the Bride this early, and yet not take advantage of it? And why did the concept seem to upset Ray so much?

He was still thinking about it the day that he absently walked out on the porch with a vase and shears, intending to cut a few flowers to make an arrangement. He had forgotten that he was avoiding the garden — avoiding him . And he continued to forget until he heard the yelling.

At first, Reiji froze. Was it an attack? There had been no clan war in centuries. Who would dare shift the power balance at this junction? After a beat, he realized the yell was thin, high-pitched. The Bride. Was he under attack? Another yokai?

“Stop it! Bad! That’s rude! Leave them alone!”

The voice had more fire to it than Reiji remembered. There was a strength to the boy’s words, a vibrating, righteous fury. Reiji let his forgotten vase and shears behind and hurried between the flowers and bushes to the source.

At the back corner of the garden, the Bride stood firm, his shoulders hunched over something cupped in his hands. The same buzzing yokai, similar to large rhinoceros beetles, that had teased him before were shrieking with laughter, darting down and tugging at his hair, swiping at his skin. But unlike before, the Bride wasn’t crying. He was hunched protectively over the thing in his arms, glaring at the yokai with a fire that momentarily gave Reiji pause.

“Go away!” the Bride yelled, swiping one free arm around. “Get back! Leave it alone, you bullies! Go away!”

He swiped wildly, and the yokai only darted around him, still giggling. They stopped giggling when Reiji stalked over, his ears and tails free and his fangs bared.

“Out of our garden,” he snarled.

They were gone in a flash, so quick that Reiji only saw the blur. Once he was certain that they were gone, he turned to the Bride.

The Bride looked up at him, his cheeks flushed, and panting. And he gave Reiji that brilliant, shining smile.

“Thank you, yokai-san!” he said, bobbing his head. “You helped me out again!”

Reiji blinked at him, once again momentarily at a loss for words at that smile. Hadn’t the boy seen Reiji let loose some of his true form? Weren’t humans frightened of such things? And yet the boy smiled at him, as though he were a dear friend who had come to his aid. Reiji frowned, brow furrowing, as he tried to see what the boy had been protecting.

“What is that?” he asked.

The boy blinked, and then seemed to realize that he was still holding onto it. Carefully, he shifted it out of the arm he’d been cradling it with into his hands. Reiji’s lips parted to see the little yokai in the Bride’s palms.

It was another one of the yokai that had teased him before, the ones that looked a bit like rhinoceros beetles. One of its wings was twisted up, and it fluttered listlessly in the boy’s hands. Reiji looked up at him, confused.

“You were protecting it?” he asked. “Why? They attacked you.”

The Bride sniffled a bit, but he shook his head.

“They were bullying it,” he said. “It hit a tree while it was swooping at me and it hurt itself, and the others all laughed and started trying to poke and tease it.”

He sniffled again, his face screwing up. Now that the danger was gone, it seemed that the adrenaline was wearing off, and his eyes were getting watery.

“It attacked you,” Reiji repeated. “It attacked you, and yet you still protected it?”

The boy sniffled, but he clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, cupping one hand protectively over the little yokai.

“Just cause it was mean to me, doesn’t mean I have to be mean back,” he said. “I want to make people happy. Not sad.”

He said it with such conviction for one so small. It took Reiji’s breath away — and yet again, left his mind blank.

He reached out gently, and for a moment, the boy held his hands back, eyes widening.

“I’ll care for it,” Reiji said. “I promise. I won’t hurt it.”

The boy looked into his eyes a moment, searching. Then he nodded, and gently, transferred the injured yokai into Reiji’s hands. Reiji held it a moment — he would take it back to the house, where one of his retainers would be able to set its wing and perform a healing charm. Small yokai like these healed quickly anyways. But he paused just a moment, to consider the human boy in front of him.

Yuya stared back at him, and Reiji had the sense that he was searching Reiji’s eyes as much as Reiji searched his. 

“You are...a strange one,” Reiji said, after a long moment of silence.

At that, Yuya smiled again. The same brilliant, dazzling smile.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “My mom says weird people have more fun.”

He laughed, as though he thought that was funny, and Reiji was surprised to find a faint smile coming to his own lips.

“Oh!” Yuya said suddenly, clapping his hands together. “That’s right! I still don’t know your name!”

For a moment, Reiji hesitated. He ought not to get too close to the boy — shouldn’t he? He was Ray’s fiance. But the way Yuya looked at him, bright eyed and cheery, Reiji found himself unable to deny him the answer.

“Reiji,” he said after a moment. “I am Akaba Reiji.”

“Reiji!” Yuya said, eyes sparkling. He grabbed hold of Reiji’s free hand and squeezed it between both of his before Reiji could stop him. His hands were...warm. “Nice to meet you, Reiji! I’m glad we get to be friends!”

Reiji opened his mouth — for what? To deny that they were friends? To admonish him for being so presumptuous, using his first name already?

He did neither of those things. He just looked down at his hand sandwiched between both of Yuya’s, and kept thinking about how warm they were.

It rained hard the next day, too hard to go out into the gardens. Reiji stared at the shadow of the raindrops cascading down through the screen of the doors. His candle wasn’t quite bright enough to study properly to, and he’d found that his mind wandered easily nowadays. 

I wonder what he does when the weather keeps him indoors , he thought. Then he felt his cheeks flush, and he sat up straight, gripping his pen tighter. What on earth was he thinking? He needed to be studying this history text, not letting his mind wander to human boys who were not his jurisdiction!

He tried to read, but he kept finding himself having to reread the same sentence over and over, as he could never seem to retain it. Biting back an angry growl, he slapped his pen back down on the table. What was wrong with him?

A small thump caused his ears to twitch, standing straight up from his hair. That was another thing he had been slipping at — keeping his human form had taken much more focus, and he’d been slacking. His true self slipped out much too easily.

He stood, however, keeping in half form as he moved to the sliding door and cracked it open. He threw it all the way open when he saw Yuya sitting beside the porch, a ball held in his arms, his hair so wet that it nearly covered his eyes.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” Reiji said. “You’ll catch cold!”

Yuya looked up, blinking. He smiled.

“Are you too busy to play today?” he asked.

Yuya fussed when Reiji irritably pulled him inside to get him dried off. He complained when Reiji took off his goggles so that he could rub his soaked hair with a towel. Honestly! The foolish boy was going to get himself killed from illness before he even came of age.

“You couldn’t have waited until it was dry?” Reiji scolded him.

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t be busy if it was all gloomy,” Yuya said. “I always get sad on gloomy days, so I thought maybe you’d want some cheering up too!”

He grinned up at Reiji from under the towel still draped over his head. Once again, Reiji felt that uncomfortable heat spreading over his cheeks, and he impulsively yanked on the end of the towel so that it covered Yuya’s face. Yuya squeaked, but then it turned into a giggle, as though this were some new game.

“Well?” Yuya asked, peeking out from under the towel again. “Do you want to play?”

Yuya didn’t understand how shogi or go worked, and he got frustrated only a few minutes into each, so Reiji let him teach him a funny new human game called “Go Fish.” It seemed less a game than some sort of luck test, but...well, it was surprisingly fun. Somewhere in the middle of the game, Tsukikage slipped in silently to bring them tea. Reiji wanted to ask if his family knew that Yuya was here. He didn’t want to ask. He wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be.

Sometime into the third round of Go Fish, Yuya started to sway slightly, but he stubbornly flinched himself awake, trying to focus on his cards.

“Perhaps you should go home before you fall asleep,” Reiji said.

“Nuh-uh, I’m having fun,” Yuya said stubbornly. “I’m not tired.”

He was tired. Not less than fifteen minutes later, Yuya was sagging forward, and Reiji sighed. He put the cards gently aside, and scooted over beside Yuya. Yuya automatically leaned against Reiji, which briefly startled him. But he was warm, and soft, and really, not too much smaller than Reiji. Reiji sighed.

“I suppose the rain is still too hard for you to go home just yet,” he said. “Rest, if you’d like.”

“Nuh-uh,” Yuya said sleepily. “I wanna be awake...so we can play...”

Despite his protests, it didn’t take long before he was fast asleep, his head sagging onto Reiji’s lap. Reiji thought the position would be uncomfortable for the both of them after a bit, but he was afraid to move and stir him. Asleep like this, he was so vulnerable...he seemed so much smaller. 

When Tsukikage came to clear the tea cups, a faint smile tugged at his lips to see them. Reiji fought back the heat in his cheeks, but Tsukikage wasn’t the type to tease.

“He’s attached to you,” Tsukikage said softly.

“I’m not sure why,” Reiji said, trying to sound put upon. He wondered if Tsukikage was fooled.

Tsukikage only smiled faintly again, looking them up and down a moment.

“Perhaps....” he said, slowly, as though he were considering his words carefully before he spoke them. “Perhaps, Reiji-dono, you would wish to marry the Bride in the future?”

Reiji’s shoulders stiffened. All at once, the thoughts crystallized. His scattered brain, the way his mind always wandered to Yuya, the memory of his dazzling smile — was...was that why?

Was he falling in love with him?

“That’s not possible,” Reiji said. “The Bride can only be married to the head of a clan.”

Tsukikage blinked at him, tilting his head.

“Would that not mean that you only need be the head?”

Reiji went very still. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Against his legs, Yuya breathed gently in and out, his head heavy but...soft against Reiji’s lap. He found his hand on Yuya’s head, on his hair.

He had a right to the position. It was true. Yokai were not so rigid as humans in inheritance. As the child of the clan leadership, he had a right to challenge to be the heir. Goodness knew Ray never seemed to express any interest in leadership, and Reiji had often thought that she would need a great deal of support once she inherited, as she never paid much attention to her studies and flouted many of the duties that she was supposed to attend to with their father. She might even simply shrug and forfeit the position if he asked, without a fight.

But...but no, that was ridiculous. He couldn’t be thinking of challenging her! An action like that might be allowed, but it was rare and looked down on. He could not do something so foolish as to destabilize the entire clan for a foolish, childish desire.

Yuya shifted in his sleep, letting out a soft breath. One of his hands crawled up to Reiji’s lap and twined into the fabric of his kimono, and the other slid on top of one of Reiji’s hands. Automatically, Reiji curled his hand around Yuya’s.

I can’t , he told himself again. I can’t. I can’t unseat my sister like that. I can’t do that to her, or to the clan. When she marries him...well, I’ll see him still. But this isn’t my place.

It was hard to convince himself with the feeling of Yuya’s hair under his hand, and it was even harder to convince himself that he wasn’t thinking as such.

No , he told himself over and over again. I can’t turn against my sister. Not for what’s surely a passing fancy.

Ray always seemed somewhat distant from him, but...she was his sister . She cared for him, in her own way. She liked to play little tricks, and tried to get him to smile. She poked fun at him for his focus on his studies, made him sneak out with her to wander around human festivals. She needed him. She needed him to support her. He wouldn’t turn against her and destabilize his clan for his own desires.

He told himself that every day until the day Ray hurt Yuya.

It happened so quickly. Yuya had gone after the ball, and Reiji had found him staring face to face with his sister. Then the blood. Ray’s claws flashing, Yuya crying out, stumbling back with so much shock in his eyes that it broke Reiji’s heart. The look in his sister’s eyes, unlike anything he’d ever seen in her before — dead eyes, as though she were in so much pain that she might break open, mixed with a poisonous dislike.

“Keep that thing away from me,” she hissed.

“What is wrong with you?” Reiji demanded of her, once Yuya was safely back home. “What do you think you’re doing? That’s the Bride !”

She didn’t turn to look at him, walking away down the hall. It was like the sister he’d known had disappeared and left only a hollow shell behind. No quick smile. No wild streak of mischief. No laid-back, carefree, airy laugh. Just stiff shoulders, and eyes that wouldn’t look at him. Reiji’s chest bubbled over with irritation. He stalked after her, his tails lashing, reaching for his shoulder.

“We uprooted nearly our entire household for this!” he said. “I know you have little respect for the position you’ll one day inherit, but surely you must know what a mistake you’re making! If the Bride is afraid of you, it will only —”

When his hand closed around her shoulder, she suddenly whipped around to face him, throwing his hand away from her. For a moment, her dead eyes stared down at him, and he felt his words dissipate. What was this agony that was pouring out of his sister?

Then her expression smoothed. The familiar easy, foxlike smile flickered to her lips.

“Oh?” she said, in a light, teasing voice. “You’re always scolding me for one thing or another, little brother, but this feels different.”

He blinked at her, and when she cupped his cheek, he didn’t move.

“You like him, don’t you?” she whispered.

Reiji lurched back. He couldn’t still the heat in his cheeks. The smile on Ray’s face was unreadable, inscrutable. It wasn’t his sister’s usual teasing grin — there was something else in it. Pain? Anger?

“My feelings aren’t important right now,” Reiji said, keeping his voice level. “The wellbeing of the clan is . To secure the Bride this far ahead of any other clan is a huge advantage. I can’t simply watch you throw that away and not understand why.”

Why did he feel so sick talking like this? He felt...terrible. Calling Yuya “the Bride” tasted terrible on his tongue. Talking about him like a political pawn made him feel even worse. But he couldn’t deal with facing the truth bubbling in his chest right now — that when he’d seen the blood blossom on Yuya’s cheek, the first thought he’d had was how he wanted to grab hold of him and spirit him far, far away, where no one could ever touch him again.

“Awww, Reiji has a crush,” Ray teased, but there it was again, that dead look in her eyes, the agony hidden behind her smile.

“You attacked the Bride,” Reiji pressed on. “You attacked him! He’ll fear you now! What was the purpose of us coming all this way, doing all this in order to get close ahead of time, if you’re just going to —”

“Tell me, Reiji. Did you ever think about how we knew who the Bride would be, so far ahead of schedule?”

Reiji paused, mouth still open. He stared at her for a long, long moment, trying to judge her. Trying to judge if he had ever actually known his sister, or if all he’d ever seen was a ghost.

“Our...our seers and oracles,” Reiji said. “They divined the time and location.”

“And you think that no other clan has divination? You think we’re simply the best at it? How did we get so close, so fast? How did we know?”

“He can see yokai,” Reiji said. “He comes from no bloodline and he can see us.”

“Oh, of course, we can confirm now that we’re face to face with him,” Ray said, shrugging. “But how did we even know to check?”

Reiji’s mouth was dry. What was she trying to say? He couldn’t even begin to understand.

“What are you trying to tell me?” he said.

Ray only smiled at him, and this time, it was a dead, hollow look.

“I told you the only thing you need to know,” she said. “Keep that thing away from me.”

She turned, her pigtails swirling around her. Before she could get more than a few steps away, though, the words ripped out of Reiji’s chest.

“Akaba Ray, as the secondborn of the kitsune clan, I invoke my right of challenge for the right of leadership.”

Ray froze midstep. Reiji felt as though he froze, too, though his heart continued to slam against his insides. Part of him screamed — what was he doing ? He had never been impulsive. He had never made a mistake like this.

The other part of him shouted that part down. He knew exactly what he was doing.

For the first time in his life, Akaba Reiji was doing something not for the greater good of his clan. He was doing something entirely for himself.

Ray turned to look at him over her shoulder, only one eye fixed on him.

“Should I have heard that,” she said, the most diplomatic he’d ever heard her speak, “or was it simply the buzz of a fly?”

She was giving him an out. There were no witnesses, not yet, to his challenge. If he wanted to, he could back out of it.

He didn’t want to.

“Consider it this way, sister,” he said evenly. “If you truly want nothing to do with the Bride, then I will take the burden away from you.”

Now Ray turned to face him completely. He couldn’t read her expression — agony again? Fear? Devastation, annoyance, irritation, pain?

“Who is this for?” Ray whispered. “For the clan? Do you think I’m incapable of leading them? Is it for yourself? You want the power of leadership? You want him ?”

Her eyes leveled to his.

“Or is this for him ?”

Reiji only met her gaze, feeling more alive than he had in his entire life.

“That’s of no concern,” he said. “Your only concern is whether or not I’m going to win.”

Ray’s eyes cut into him, but he didn’t flinch. After a long, tense moment, Ray let out a faint, strangled snarl.

“You’re a fool,” she said. “I’ll accept your challenge, little brother, but I won’t make it easy for you. Don’t expect me to just step out of your way.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, sister.”

An inheritance challenge was a serious matter. Reiji could not simply face his sister the next day and take her place should he win. There were rules. Things that must be done. As he had expected, it sent the household into a flurry. His parents, who had stayed behind in the spirit realm to take care of the household there, were in a fuss over it when they learned. Reiji’s mother scolded him, telling him that she thought he had known better than to do such a thing — but at the same time, he could hear the triumph in her voice, the half-heartedness to her scolding. She had always harbored some resentment towards Ray, the child of another woman, saving her affection for Reiji, and he knew that he was playing into her desires by seeking leadership. His father said little, though his eyes were dark and considering, and when he asked Reiji what had brought on the challenge, he didn’t seem to believe it when Reiji said it was what he thought was best for the clan.

With such chaos, there was no possibility of the clan remaining split as it was between two households. In the months that would lead up to the formal challenge between Reiji and Ray, they would not be able to maintain a household together in the human world. There were bureaucratic details to handle back at the main household. Plans to be made and organized. Reiji would need the time to plan and train for the upcoming fight — Ray was not an opponent he could simply underestimate.

Which mean that Reiji would have to leave Yuya.

It was that knowledge that tore him apart the most. He slipped out in the night, carefully weaving wards and spells around the foundation of Yuya’s home. None but the most powerful of yokai would be able to enter his home, so long as Reiji had anything to say about. If he could not be here, if he could not even leave a guardian for him until he was the clan leader, then he would leave behind what protection he could.

The day he had to leave hurt him the most. He didn’t intend to say the words. He didn’t want to bind Yuya to him before he knew he would even have the chance to make good on the proposal. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Yuya,” he’d whispered, almost frantic. “When I return, will you marry me?”

And Yuya had squeezed his hands, and with all of the childhood fervor he had, had said yes.

Of course he hadn’t truly understood, not back then. Reiji hadn’t had the chance to explain.

But for the years that had followed, he’d held the memory of Yuya’s ringing yes in his heart. The look of his eyes, the echo of his voice calling after him, “promise to come back! Promise!”

It took too long to finally challenge Ray. She kept finding excuses to draw it out. He knew she was trying to buy time until Yuya came of age, to reduce Reiji’s chances to protect him. He spent the hours that he had to wait training, studying, preparing. Finding allies, among the kitsune, outside the clans, drawing those who he could trust to his side. He knew that even once he’d defeated her, he wouldn’t be able to rush right back to Yuya. He’d have to take control of the clan, organize it, delegate, take care of his people, before he could return to Yuya’s side. But he couldn’t do any of those things until Ray finally faced him . 

“Are you afraid that you will lose?” Reiji asked.

Her eyes flashed — they’d gone so hard and cold since their childhood, and Reiji knew he was partially to blame — though another small part of him wondered if something of this had been in Ray all along, something that she’d kept from him while she’d kept him at a distance as children.

“No,” she said, her voice low and hissing. “I’m afraid you will.”

She couldn’t drag it out forever. Eventually, they had to face each other.

It was not an easy fight. He barely remembered most of it. Tsukikage and Hikage told him that it had lasted nearly two days, the two of them swirling in and out of their true forms, neither truly gaining an advantage until Reiji’s second wind hit, and he finally managed to pin her down.

He was bleeding in so many places that he couldn’t count them, that he couldn’t tell where his skin ended and the bloodstains began. Ray heaved beneath his arm, spent but eyes still alight.

“I win, sister,” Reiji gasped. “Yield.”

For a moment, her teeth bared in a snarl, and he thought she would break free again. Then she slumped. That strange mixture of agony and frustration bubbled out of her gaze again.

“I yield,” she whispered.

But even as he began to loosen his grip on her, she reached up and seized him by the collar. She dragged him down. For a moment, he thought she was striking — would she break the rules of combat so easily?

But no. She only drew him down so that her lips were at his ear. She whispered something, cold and hissing.

The words cut into Reiji. He froze. His mouth went dry, and the blood drained from his face. When her fingers slipped free of his collar and he rose back up, her eyes fixed on his, as though gauging his reaction to her revelation.

“You’re lying,” Reiji said.

“You know I’m not,” she said.

“Why did you — before — you never said —”

“Only clan leaders get to know,” she said. “Congratulations, Reiji. You’ve earned it.”

Reiji staggered to his feet, back and away from her. She didn’t get up. She just stared up at the sky, her arms sprawled to the sides of her.

“You can’t save him,” she said, so softly he barely heard her. “There was never any fate for him but to die.”

“I refuse to accept that!”

The words ripped out of him as involuntarily as his first impulsive challenge had. Ray only let out a soft sound that he realized after a breath was a laugh. A sad, broken sound, as though shattered by some impossible depth of hurt.

“Show me, then,” she murmured. “Show me that you can defeat destiny.”

Reiji gasped for breath. He forgot that he was bleeding. He forgot that he was on the verge of passing out. He forgot that he had won, that now that his father planned to step down in the next year, Reiji was the new clan leader of the kitsune.

All he thought of right then was Yuya. Yuya’s smile. Yuya’s soft hands. Yuya’s kindness.

He curled his hands into fists.

“I defy destiny,” he said. “Mark my words, sister. He will live. I will make sure of it .”

Even if he had to throw everything he’d worked for away. Even if he had to destroy himself. Even if he had to let go of the one thing he’d ever wanted for himself.

He would protect him. 

He would make sure that Sakaki Yuya lived.

Chapter Text

It was official. Yuzu was a useless exorcist.

Yuzu groaned, dropping her head between her knees.

“Hey, don’t give up yet. That one almost worked,” Masumi said.

Yuzu looked up at her through her bangs, raising both her eyebrows. Masumi sighed. She leaned back on her hands, her palms crinkling the scattered papers that surrounded them. Each slip was painted with calligraphy, just the characters for protection in black ink. Useless, every single one of them.

“I think that Roget guy was right,” Yuzu said. “The Hiiragi family’s exorcism powers ended with my dad.”

Masumi made a face, lips curling. So far, the most Yuzu had learned about the other exorcist clans was that Masumi and her family didn’t like Roget very much. His family line had emigrated to Europe decades before, and the other families had thought thought the line had ended until he’d showed back up a few years back. His power and the proof of his lineage was unmistakable, but he was still seen with some suspicion — at least, the Kotsus thought so. As Masumi had mentioned, a lot of the other families were falling all over themselves to ingratiate themselves, since Roget’s power was so much stronger than most of the other families, who were slowly starting to go the way of the Hiiragis.

“I hate to think that guy’s right about anything,” Masumi said. “And I hate being wrong. You’re going to keep making wards til one works.”

Yuzu groaned, dropping her head between her knees again. Her fingers were inkstained, and her wrist cramped from how many times she’d had to write protection .

Masumi’s wards worked . She’d watched Masumi paint one with deft, practiced fingers, and stick it to a fence. When Yuzu had tried to press her hand through the slats, she’d felt an actual force pushing her hand back. Yuzu’s though...they were just slips of paper with less than perfect calligraphy.

“This might not be working,” Yuzu said. “I appreciate you helping, but...”

“Don’t you dare give up on me now!” Masumi snapped, glowering. “There’s got to be something going on with you, or the yokai wouldn’t ignore you like this.”

Yuzu shrugged. She absently began to twist her bracelet around her wrist as Masumi stood up and started to pace around the little forest glade near her family’s shrine where they were practicing.

“If wards aren’t working, maybe we need another angle,” she said. The useless protection wards crinkled under feet as she paced over the top of them. “We could try purification rituals, maybe, just on some cups of water? Or meditation, my dad made me do that for hours when I was a kid.”

Yuzu winced.

“No offense, Masumi, but I’ve already been sitting on the ground for like, three hours now. My butt is asleep,” she said. “I don’t think I want to do more of it.”

Masumi raised both her eyebrows at her, pausing in the middle of pacing.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to learn,” she said. “If I’m going to teach you, we’re going to do it the right way.”

Yuzu sighed again. Masumi was right — she was the expert here. But the thought of having to sit very still and think about just her breathing for several hours sounded torturous.

After a beat, Masumi tapped her fist to her hand.

“Or, maybe, we just need to throw you into a situation,” she said. “That’s when my sight woke up.”

It was Yuzu’s turn to raise both her eyebrows. She let go of her bracelet and groaned as she stood up, her knees cracking.

“I’m all for doing this faster, but that sounds like a bad idea,” Yuzu said. “Like, a potential ‘I could actually die for real, in real life’ idea.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Masumi said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “I just mean taking you to a place with some intense spiritual energy, where lots of yokai tend to gather. The more saturated a place is with energy, the more likely you are to get your sight to trigger.”

Yuzu frowned.

“Isn’t that what your shrine is?” she asked, gesturing off into the woods where the main building was.

“It’s pretty spiritual, but not quite enough for what we’re thinking of,” Masumi said. “When I got my sight woken up, it was during a hike on a sacred mountain. My dad sent me up on my own for a few hours. It was like something slid into place, and suddenly I could see the outlines of the yokai.”

“That still sounds dangerous,” Yuzu said. “You said that yokai are dangerous.”

“Only when they mess with humans,” Masumi said. “And I’d be with you. You’ll be safe. Besides, as long as you don’t run around screaming, the yokai can’t even see you, remember?”

Yuzu frowned. She was still a little concerned about that whole idea. If yokai couldn’t see her at all, what did that even mean? Supposedly, Reiji was a yokai, but he could see her. Was that just because she’d drawn attention to herself, or was Reiji different because he was a clan leader? She almost wanted to go over and talk straight to him to ask, but...she still felt weird about it. Yuya was insistent that Reiji wanted to protect him, but Yuzu still felt uncertain. She trusted Yuya, but...Reiji set her on edge for reasons she couldn’t understand. Was it just because she was worried about Yuya, or that the idea of him being a yokai — and being at their school — was weirding her out? He was the first yokai she’d ever seen, though he didn’t look like one.

She wanted to ask Masumi, but...she also didn’t want to make extra trouble for Yuya by explaining everything. If she knew that there was a yokai going to class with them, and not just hanging around in the hallways like the ones that Yuya complained about, what would she think?

“I think that’s the best shot we have,” Masumi said, and Yuzu realized that she’d still been talking as Yuzu had been spacing out. “So what do you say? Field trip?”

Yuzu looked down at the remnants of her failed protection wards, and sighed.

“I think it’s the best chance we have,” she said. “If you think it’s safe.”

Masumi nodded, and grinned.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Like I said — I’ll protect you.”

Yuzu rolled her eyes. But she couldn’t help but smile anyway.

Well, at the very least, it was a nice day for a walk.

Yuzu took a sip from the water bottle she’d gotten at the convenience store before they’d taken the bus here. It was a pretty easy walk, all things considered. The path was smooth, and it wound gently. The mountain wasn’t so steep that it needed switchbacks, not at this height anyway. Masumi had estimated they’d only stay out for about an hour, then head back — it was better to leave with as much time before sunset as possible.

But it was currently sunny and cheerful, and the woods were thick and shaded from the worst of the heat, and there were birds chirping and small animals digging around in the brush, and Yuzu didn’t feel anything other than a general enjoyment of a good day.

Masumi, on the other hand, was on high alert. Yuzu watched her eyes flitting quickly from one side of the path to the other. Every now and then she would tense, or her step would hitch, as though she heard something that Yuzu didn’t.

“Are there are lot?” Yuzu asked quietly.

Masumi nodded.

“Small ones. Nothing to worry about,” she said, her voice so low it was barely audible. “How do you feel?”

Yuzu looked around. The sunlight was pretty, the way it filtered through the trees, and there was a fresh scent of pine. It made her feel relaxed and peaceful. But not spiritually aware or anything.

“It’s a nice day?” she said, shrugging.

Masumi looked like she was going to laugh, raising her eyebrows at Yuzu.

“Really? That’s all you feel? No aura, no pressure, nothing?”

“Nothing, really.”

Well, if she was honest, she definitely felt more lively, if anything. Where Masumi seemed like she was tense, ready to jump into a fight at a moment’s notice, Yuzu just felt light and airy. More cheerful than she had in weeks. Maybe she’d really needed a nice nature walk like this, to clear her head. She breathed in the smell of the mountain, and felt it curl up gently beneath her heart like an old friend. It was soothing in a way she’d needed.

Masumi frowned, stopping. She rubbed the back of her neck.

“That’s really weird,” she muttered.

“What is?” Yuzu said.

“Well...even not spiritually aware people tend to sense something up here,” Masumi said, gesturing. She kept her voice lower, but she didn’t seem overly concerned, so perhaps there were fewer yokai around. “There’s a lot of ghost sightings around here, and when I came here with friends a while ago, a lot of them kept complaining that they felt like something was watching them.”

Yuzu frowned. She looked around at the peaceful, pretty forest. There were some flowers bobbing gently in a breeze at the base of a tree, and mushrooms growing like a spiral staircase around another trunk. She saw a hare leap out of a nearby shrub, twitch its nose and ears, and dart off again. She couldn’t imagine thinking this place was anything other than beautiful and peaceful. She definitely didn’t feel any creeping sensations, or pressure like Masumi had asked.

“Am I that spiritually inept?” Yuzu asked.

Masumi rubbed the back of her neck.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m kind of stumped.”

She seemed as though she might be about to say something else when something caught her attention. This time, though, it wasn’t some silent sound that only Masumi could hear — Yuzu heard it too. A crunching sound, like feet in the brush, followed by a flurry of giggles.

Now Yuzu felt tense, standing straight up.

“What’s that?” she hissed.

Masumi glanced quickly at her, and suddenly relaxed.

“If you hear it too, it’s got to be people,” she said.

Unless Yuzu’s mysterious possible spirit powers had decided to wake up just then, and those were yokai. Yuzu looked around quickly to see if she could see anything else, but she just saw forest. Masumi had turned up ahead, squinting. She put her hand over her eyes to block out the sunlight that filtered through the trees.

“I think they’re up ahead,” Masumi said. “There must be other hikers here today.”

“Does this place get a lot of those?” Yuzu asked.

“Not a bunch , mostly other exorcists and the occasional thrillseeking teenager,” Masumi said.

Crunching feet, like someone was running, and another flurry of giggles. Masumi grimaced.

“I think we’re dealing with the latter. Come on, I’d better scare them off before they get into trouble.”

She headed up the path at an easy jog, and Yuzu hurried to keep up. She was in pretty good shape, so she didn’t have any trouble, but her mind still raced, causing her heart to pick up. Masumi didn’t seem concerned, but Yuzu had started to think they were the only ones on the mountain.

The path curved to the left up ahead, and it was hard to see around the copse of trees. Masumi slowed as they reached the curve, walking purposefully, and Yuzu matched her steps. She heard rustling, now, like someone was wrestling in the trees. A few branches shook, and an irritable bird fluttered out.

“G-gah! That really tickles!!”

“Your fault for telling me you were ticklish!”

Masumi slowed, suddenly looking uncomfortable. She shot Yuzu a look, and Yuzu thought that Masumi had probably come to the same thought that she had. Yuzu really hoped they weren’t about to walk in on people in some sort of undress.

Taking a deep breath, Yuzu followed Masumi around the corner — and yelped as someone careened right into her.

Masumi shouted, and someone else yelped, but Yuzu couldn’t see anything outside of the person who had just smacked straight into her. They tumbled in a tangle of limbs to the ground, and it was a wonder they didn’t just start rolling down the incline.

The first thing Yuzu realized was that she was cold . It was so shockingly cold that it nearly sucked the air out of her lungs. Whoever had just fallen on her was freezing to the touch! It wasn’t cold out today, so what the heck was up with that?

“Oh my god, I’m so...sorry?”

Yuzu struggled a moment, and the person who had fallen on her pushed up onto her hands. For a moment, the girl almost seemed to be staring through her, her hazel yellow eyes hovering somewhere at Yuzu’s forehead. When Yuzu grabbed her shoulder, though, it was as though the girl’s eyes snapped into focus, and her eyes widened.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, scrambling up to her feet. “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

Yuzu let out a little cough, sucking air back into her frozen lungs. Had she...imagined that? Now that the girl wasn’t on top of her, the temperature felt the same as it had before. 

“I’m...okay,” she said. “You should be careful going around corners, though.”

The girl had been staring at Yuzu as though she were some kind of puzzle she were trying to read. She reddened, however, when Yuzu spoke.

“I — sorry,” she said.

Well, at least she wasn’t naked...she was in a baggy, pale blue sweatshirt and jeans. And...as Yuzu’s eyes focused on her, she started. Was this why the girl had been looking so hard at her? Because...because she looked a lot like Yuzu.

Of course, there were a lot of difference. This girl was a lot stouter than Yuzu, with broader shoulders. She was paler than Yuzu, too, almost snow white, and her eyes were a golden yellow — her hair, too, was a soft minty green, cut short and floofing around her head in a bob. But the shape of her cheeks...the angle of her eyes...even the length and width of her nose. They all looked eerily familiar to Yuzu, as though she were inspecting herself in a mirror.

“Rin?? Is everyone okay??”

The boy scurried over, dodging Masumi, who sounded as though she’d just been in the middle of scolding him. She glowered at him as he edged past her — he was gangly and fair skinned, with twigs in his mussed blue and blond hair. He, thankfully, was also not naked.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” the boy said, flapping his hands up and down. “That was my fault!! She was teasing me, and I accidentally tripped her, and — I’m sorry!”

He thrust his hand out to her. Yuzu smiled as she took it, letting him help her to her feet.

“It’s fine, really,” she said. Something about him reminded her of Yuya, just a little. Not in the same way that this girl was so eerily like herself, but there was an earnestness to this boy that reminded her of her best friend. “I’m not hurt or anything.”

“I’m still sorry,” he said. “We didn’t know anyone else was up here.”

Masumi stalked around him to stand next to Yuzu, grabbing her hand and yanking it away from his — he had still been holding onto her hand after helping her up, Yuzu realized. He reddened as he seemed to notice too, jumping back a little and waving his hands.

“That’s no excuse for being an idiot! This is a mountain, you know! You could have gotten hurt, even if no one else was here! And —”

Masumi trailed off as her eyes shifted to the girl. She stared, silent, lips parted and eyes wide. For a moment, Yuzu was certain that she was only shocked at how much like Yuzu the girl looked.

But then her gaze hardened, and she shoved Yuzu behind her, throwing an arm out.

“You, step away from her,” she said. 

Her eyes were fixed on the girl, but her words seemed aimed at the boy. The boy blinked. 

“Huh?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, though, and her shoulders tensed.

“Yugo, we need to go,” she said.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Masumi snapped. “You didn’t think anyone was up here, huh? Thought you had a nice isolated place to take your prey?”

Rin’s eyes flashed — actually, literally flashed. They seemed to glow for a moment, like a cat’s did when a flashlight beam reflected against their irises.

“Rin? What’s going on?” Yugo asked, looking quickly between her and Masumi.

Yuzu wasn’t imagining it this time. The air was getting colder. She could see her breath misting over the air.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Rin said, clearly struggling to keep her voice level.

“That’s rich. If you think I’m going to believe that, I have a bridge to sell you.”

“Masumi? What’s wrong?” Yuzu asked.

Masumi reached into her pocket and drew out a slip of paper — one of the ones that they had been practicing with earlier. Rin’s eyes widened, and she took a quick step back.

“Don’t you dare,” she said.

“Keep away from this human and I won’t,” Masumi said.

Yuzu sucked in a breath. She was putting the pieces together now. If Masumi was acting like this...if she was reaching for her charms...

Was this Rin girl...was she a yokai ?

Rin was starting to mist slightly on the edges, like condensation was lifting from her skin. That definitely wasn’t human. She was also fuzzing out slightly, as though she were blurring out of Yuzu’s vision. She remembered something like this happening before — the strange way that Reiji had seemed to blur in and out of her vision when he’d appeared to save Yuya, as though parts of him had gone invisible for a breath.

“You want to fight with me, exorcist? Do you think you’ll win?” Rin asked through gritted teeth.

“Let’s find out,” Masumi said.

“Hey! Leave Rin alone!”

Yugo flung himself in between the two of them, startling both out of their motions forward.

“Yugo!” Rin cried, her voice cracking with panic. She wrenched herself back, thrusting her hands downward instead of forward as she’d started to. Yuzu sucked in a breath as she saw the grass on either side of her feet sudden brown and wither, frost growing in patches on the remaining tufts.

Masumi swore too, swerving back so that she wouldn’t punch forward with her charm.

Yugo stood between them, arms outstretched. He clenched his jaw, brow furrowed in determination.

“Leave Rin alone,” he said again. “She’s not doing anything wrong!”

“Listen to me,” Masumi said. “You don’t understand. That girl isn’t human. She’s —”

“I already know that!”

That response seemed to take Masumi aback. Her eyes widened, lips parting. Then she clenched her fist at her side.

“Yokai are dangerous,” she said. “You can’t trust them.”

“I would never hurt him,” Rin said, her voice harsh with anger. “If you think I would —”

Yugo turned away from Masumi and to Rin, putting soothing hands on her shoulders.

“Rin, it’s okay,” he said. “I trust you. I promised, didn’t I?”

Rin bit her lip. She shot a suspicious look at Masumi and Yuzu again, before putting a protective hand over Yugo’s.

“She’s tricking you,” Masumi said. “You can’t trust her!”

Masumi tried to step forward, but Yuzu grabbed her arm. Masumi shot a shocked look back at her.

“Let’s — why can’t we hear them out?” Yuzu asked.

Masumi’s mouth dropped open. She stared at Yuzu, then shot a look back to Yugo and Rin.

“Have you not heard a word I’ve said to you?” she said. “Yokai are dangerous to people. It’s not safe for them to interact.”

“But they —”

Masumi yanked her arm out of Yuzu’s grip.

“If you’re going to become an exorcist, you have to learn that it’s not all friendship and rainbows!” she said. “We have to keep the boundary! Yokai eat people! And that’s if you’re lucky! ”

Yuzu flinched. She remembered Yuya’s voice in the bathroom, how small he’d curled up on himself when he’d admitted that he’d nearly been eaten twice . It was true, she knew it — yokai could be so dangerous.

But couldn’t humans be dangerous, too? And...and then there was Reiji. He was a yokai. And he was protecting Yuya. She looked at Rin and Yugo again. Both seemed so tense. Yugo kept himself between Rin and Masumi, an arm held out protectively. Rin looked...frightened. She looked tense and angry, but there was fear underneath it. What if what exorcists did really hurt ?

“Maybe it’s not the same for all of them,” she said. “There are so many yokai, aren’t there? As many kinds as there are people — so why can’t they —”

Masumi shot her such an incredulous look that Yuzu’s throat closed up.

“Humans and yokai can’t mix,” she said through grit teeth.

Yuzu didn’t know why it felt like a sword in her heart when Masumi said that. She gasped, putting a hand against her chest and taking a step back. She wanted to spill it all, right there — she wanted to tell Masumi about Yuya, about the yokai’s bride, about Reiji protecting him, about all of it. She wanted her to understand...what? Was this just because of the look in Yuya’s eyes when he talked about Reiji? Was this because Yuzu wanted so badly to be right , to know for sure that she could trust Reiji with Yuya? That she could support Yuya’s feelings?

But if she told Masumi all of that, would she hurt Reiji? Would she bring exorcists and make Reiji and his friends as frightened as Rin was? Would it make Yuya look so stricken and haunted, as he had after Reiji had gotten sick from the poison?

“Masumi, please,” she mumbled. “Let’s just go. Please.”

She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say any of those words. She couldn’t explain the maelstrom in her head.

And she couldn’t understand why she felt sick when Masumi glowered at her, a mixture of disbelief and anger in her eyes.

“Fine,” she spat. “But when we hear the news report that this kid has gone missing, it’ll be on your conscience.”

She shot another glare at Yugo and Rin. Then without waiting for Yuzu, she turned on her heel and stalked down the hill. Yuzu wanted to cry out after her. She felt...hurt. They had only been actual friends for a few days. That angry look in Masumi’s eyes hurt, and it was worse than the antagonism they’d had before that. It had looked like betrayal, and Yuzu couldn’t understand why she felt betrayed, too.

She looked quickly at Yugo and Rin. A brief fear sparked in her chest. What if Masumi was right, and she’d just left Yuzu alone with a dangerous monster?

But Rin only looked relieved. Her shoulders slumped forward, and Yugo rubbed her back soothingly. He looked up and smiled at Yuzu.

“Thank you,” he said. “Really.”

Rin wrapped her arms around herself. She met Yuzu’s eyes for a moment, with a curious, uncertain expression. Then she looked away, and said nothing.

Yuzu couldn’t think of what else to say herself. She bowed quickly, then turned and ran after Masumi.

It was a long, silent walk off the mountain. And it didn’t feel quite so cheerful anymore.

Chapter Text

Yuya slept off and on for what felt like days, but probably wasn’t. He remembered coming awake briefly, hearing his mother’s voice, and Reiji’s calm tones answering her. 

“He said he felt a bit dizzy. It might be anemia, perhaps, or he might not have been hydrated. I apologize for letting this happen.”

“What are you apologizing for? Thank you for bringing him home safe.”

He drifted off again, and the next time he woke, he saw his mother hovering over him, her expression concerned, hand pressed to his forehead.

“You don’t have a fever,” she said, more murmuring to herself than to him. “What really happened over there, Yuya?”

Yuya felt the barest sense of guilt underneath the shroud of exhaustion. If he had been slightly more coherent, he might have spilled the whole truth to his mother right then and there. He might have told her everything — about seeing the yokai, about his childhood friend Reiji and the promise to protect him, about the yokai’s bride, about the year he had to face ahead of him where he might die before she even got to know what was happening to him. 

But he drifted back off to sleep again before he could say a word, and he slept, long and deep, and without any dreams that he could recall.

The third time he woke, he finally came fully awake. His eyes opened to meet his familiar ceiling, his fingers opened and closed to find his familiar sheets. The window was cracked open, and a nice breeze came through, rustling the curtains. He felt a bit warm, so he pushed the covers back from his chest. He was in his pajamas — his mother must have changed him. He blushed a little to think of his mom doing that when he was seventeen already, but, well, it couldn’t be helped at this point.

He didn’t sit up quite yet, letting the rest of his body and mind settle back into place. He hadn’t forgotten what had brought him to this state — he couldn’t have forgotten it if he wanted to. The image of Reiji, bleeding from a thousand gashes, was permanently seared into his mind. 

His wounds were completely gone, though. Reiji’s healing had done the trick. He hoped that Reiji was doing better now, too.

But thinking about that made him remember Reiji’s lips on his skin, of the feel of his tongue against his cheek, his shoulder, and his face suddenly got so hot that he felt like he might explode. He threw the covers back over himself, smothering himself with the comforter.

“Oh my god,” he muttered. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we — I let him —”

Part of him wasn’t sure why he was so flustered. It hadn’t meant anything. Reiji simply had to use his.... saliva ...to heal him. It had been a necessity. Offering Reiji some of his blood to heal him had been a necessity too. But now Yuya was thinking of how forcefully he had grabbed hold of Reiji, had pressed his slender, soft body against him, had pushed Reiji’s head against his shoulder and felt his breath against his bare skin — 

He immediately flipped over and buried his face in his pillow. AAAAAAAAAA.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he groaned, balling up his pillow against his face. Sure, he’d been under a lot of stress, and had had a lot of adrenaline but — but he’d been so forceful . Thinking about it now made him want to pass out again.

It didn’t mean anything. Right? He’d just wanted Reiji to be okay, and Reiji had just been healing him, in the weird way that yokai had to do that, supposedly. Yokai probably didn’t even see things like that as romantic!

Aaaaand oops, he’d thought the R word. 

I don’t...feel that way....do I?

Reiji didn’t want to marry him. At least, he hadn’t asked again. He was always talking about getting Yuya through the year, as though there was no question about Yuya not marrying him, and just losing his powers when the time was up. So obviously, nothing of what he did was supposed to be romantic. Of course it wasn’t.

But...

Why did Yuya’s chest kind of squeeze when he thought that that might not have meant anything to Reiji at all?

He’s a yokai , Yuya reminded himself. We...we aren’t even in the same worlds.

But it was gnawing at him, now. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why hadn’t Reiji asked to make good on their childhood promise? It seemed like the easiest way to end things. If Yuya was engaged to Yuya, if they said the words together, the others couldn’t challenge Reiji for Yuya anymore, and it would bring prosperity to his people. Why go through all the trouble of struggling through a whole year of incidents like these? It wasn’t that Yuya was really wanting Reiji to ask him to get married. He was only seventeen, too young to think about things like that, and...well, he wasn’t sure if he felt that way for Reiji, not yet. But it still worried at him, and it hurt, even, just a little bit. Was there something wrong with him, and that was why Reiji wasn’t even going to ask him?

Was it really just because Reiji wanted to respect Yuya’s feelings so much? Or had he fallen out of love over the years, had forgotten his feelings or desires, but still wanted to keep the promise to protect a friend? Or...or was there some other reason?

I should just...ask him , Yuya thought, but at the same time, he knew he never would.

He might have laid there, with his face buried into his pillow, for the rest of his life if he hadn’t heard the faint tapping on the door. He lifted his head.

“I’m awake,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse and scratchy. It was probably his mom. What time was it, anyway....already after four in the afternoon??? Mom must have called in sick for him to school...

The door opened, but it wasn’t his mother at all. Yuzu peeked in, looking pale and nervous. She relaxed when she saw Yuya turning over to sit up right, and pushed the rest of the way into the room.

“I tried visiting before classes,” Yuzu said. “But you were still asleep. I got all your notes and stuff for you.”

“Oh, thanks,” Yuya said. “I wouldn’t have even thought of that.”

Yuzu tried to smile, but it was clear that this brief attempt at normalcy between them wasn’t working. She closed the door behind her and shuffled over to Yuya’s bed, dropping down on the side of the bed near him.

“What happened ?” she whispered.

She looked so pale, so afraid, and Yuya felt guilty all over again. He’d made his mom worry, he’d made Yuzu worry...couldn’t this year just hurry up and end already, so he could stop making the people he loved get hurt?

He almost thought about lying to her, but only for a second. Yuzu would see right through it. And he’d promised to be open with her. So he took in a deep breath, and he started talking.

He told her about the gathering he’d attended, the strange yokai who were all after his hand in marriage, the tree with its fruit, the confrontation between Reiji and the yokai clan leader Yuuri. He talked about the challenge from the tengu clan’s leader, and about talking to Reiji, learning more about what these challenges would mean. Then he told her about Ray, who appeared suddenly, who swooped him away and threatened Reiji, how Reiji had hurt himself to save him, how in the end, Yuya was so tired he’d simply passed out.

When he finished talking, Yuzu didn’t respond for a long, long time. She had her hands clasped against her knees, so tightly that Yuya was certain it was because she was trying to stop them from shaking.

“This is...this is all so horrible,” she finally said. “Why do you have to go through this?”

She curled her head down against her clasped hands, her shoulders trembling. Was...she crying?

Yuya wasn’t sure what he had expected out of Yuzu after his explanation, but it definitely wasn’t this. Yuzu was always so...tough. So stoic. So take-action. But here she was, her head between her knees, shoulders trembling with her attempts not to cry. He felt like he was floundering, adrift, uncertain of what to do or say. So he just reached for her and touched her shoulder, and when she grabbed his hand he held onto it.

“You’re okay, now?” Yuzu asked, after a few moments of deep breaths.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Yuya said. “Because of Reiji...”

He trailed off, his thoughts swirling again. Yuzu tightened her grip on his hand a moment.

“You know, I haven’t even said hello to him,” she said, sniffling. “He keeps protecting you and...I keep avoiding him. Maybe I think that I can pretend it’s not happening to you if I don’t. But...but I should thank him, shouldn’t I? He’s trying to keep you safe.”

Yuya could only nod. Had he even thanked Reiji yet? He couldn’t remember.

“I wish I knew why he was doing this for me,” he said, his throat tightening. “Why doesn’t he just ask me to marry him? Wouldn’t that be easier for him?”

Yuzu finally lifted her head, her eyes slightly red. She gave him a look , one that he didn’t really know how to interpret.

“What?” he said.

“Are you serious?” she said. “You don’t know why he’s doing this?”

“I...I really don’t,” Yuya said. “I’m the yokai’s bride or whatever, right? To the yokai, I’m a target, but he’s...he’s not even asking, he just protects me, even though it...”

Yuzu let out a snort, letting her head fall back to her knees for a moment.

“Yuya, you’re so willfully stupid sometimes,” she said. “He’s in love with you, stupid.”

Yuya sucked in a sharp breath. Of course, of course he’d thought that might be the case, but...then why not ask him to marry him, if that’s how he felt? The words clattered around in his head, and he felt his cheeks warming.

“Wait, how do you know that so well?” Yuya said, releasing her hand and sitting back on his palms. He tried not to look at her, so that he could sort of hide how red his cheeks were.

Yuzu snorted again, sniffling.

“I saw him that time when he saved you from the poison,” she said. “The look in his eyes...it’s just so obvious that he’s head over heels for you. I’ve never seen anyone look so panicked before.”

She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose, finally sitting upright.

“God, I’m a mess,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. Here I am making you comfort me, when you’re the one who almost died.”

“This puts a lot of pressure on you, too,” Yuya said.

Yuzu shook her head, but she didn’t respond to that. For a moment, they just sat there in silence. Yuya tried to turn the thought over in his head. Was Reiji really in love with him? It made him feel warm, fidgety. He thought of Reiji’s soft, kind eyes, his gentle hands. The blush seemed to reach all the way under his skin. Was he... happy about this?

“The truth is,” Yuzu said, suddenly, breaking the silence. “I...I’ve been doing something, too. And it went all wrong.”

Yuya looked at her, curious, gladly putting aside the swirling thoughts of his feelings for Reiji.

“I...I found out that Masumi is an exorcist,” Yuzu said.

Yuya stared at her. Wait. Masumi ? Yuzu’s self proclaimed rival? An exorcist ?

“She knows about yokai, and...well...I found something else out.”

Yuzu swallowed, clasping her hands together. Then she started talking. She explained how she’d gone to the shrine to look for clues on how to support Yuya. How Masumi had been there, and the strange exorcist man called Roget who had pretty much confirmed that Yuzu’s father was from an exorcist family. She told him about the failed training sessions, then the trip up the mountain, the boy and the yokai girl, and the fight with Masumi.

When she trailed off, her eyes seemed far away, fixed on some distant, unseen point. Yuya’s head tumbled over with thoughts. He wasn’t sure what to say first.

“Your dad is an exorcist ,” he said finally.

Yuzu shot him a look, immediately coming back from her reverie.

“Really?? All that, and that’s what you got out of it?”

“Hey, sorry,” Yuya said, raising both hands. “It’s honestly just. The weirdest part. Like, your dad coming from some well-to-do family. He’s just so....your dad.”

Yuzu grimaced.

“Yeah, okay, I get it. That was my reaction too. But I haven’t actually asked him, so it could be a total misunderstanding. After all, it doesn’t seem like I have any powers.”

She glared at her hands, bracelet glimmering as it slid down her wrist with the motion.

“I just...wanted to be helpful,” she said. “I wanted you to know you didn’t have to go through all this alone.”

Yuya bit his lip. Then he reached out to touch her arm.

“You already are,” he said. “Yuzu, you’re my best friend. You listen to me tell you about all this messed up stuff that keeps happening to me. I think I might go insane if I didn’t have you to face this with.”

Yuzu looked at him. After a moment, a tentative smile came to her lips. She patted his hand.

“You’re sweet,” she said. “Thanks.”

“And...and I’m glad you stuck up for that guy and his yokai friend,” Yuya said. “I think you’re right, Yuzu. I think maybe it’s okay, possible, even, for yokai and people to be friends.”

As he spoke, the more he felt confident in his words. Had that been something that had been worrying him? That difference between him and Reiji, a human and a yokai? And now that he’d heard Yuzu’s story, he felt something like...

Hope.

He found a smile spreading over his lips. Yuzu tilted her head curiously at him.

“Yuzu, don’t you see?” he said. “If that guy and that yokai can live peacefully together...then maybe I have a chance to get through this. Maybe there’s a way for this to end happily.”

Yuya wanted to visit that mountain, to see if it was true. Maybe he could talk to that boy, and the yokai, and learn more about how they became friends. Yuzu, however, had sternly talked him out of it. “A mountain full of spirits and yokai when you apparently smell like a full course meal to them? Are you stupid?”

Reluctantly, he’d agreed. Even with the glimpses of Selena’s black fur tailing him as he walked to school the next morning, he knew it was too dangerous. Selena would protect him, but she was only one yokai. Better not tempt fate, even if he did feel more hopeful now.

It doesn’t have to be this way , he thought as he waved hello to his classmates, stuck his outdoor shoes into his locker. Maybe I can convince them that they don’t have to turn to violence over this. Yokai can be reasoned with. They’re not monsters.

The thought bolstered him, and he caught up easily on his homework, finding it easier to pay attention to classes, and full of energy during P.E. That settled it for him. After classes, he’d run over to Reiji’s house. He’d thank him for everything he’d done for him so far, and then he’d try to convince him that they could talk to the other clan leaders, come to some kind of agreement rather than having to fall into line with tradition. Reiji was smart, and diplomatic, and he understood how to live peacefully with humans. He could probably find a way to figure it out.

So ran his thoughts the last bell rang, and he quickly slid back into his regular shoes. He was just about to run out the door when someone... appeared in front of him. With a gasp, he skidded to a stop before he collided into her.

She was just a hair taller than he was, her skin so impossibly smooth that it was immediately obvious she wasn’t human. She had big, round magenta eyes, and hair so dark that it looked nearly black, tumbling down her back in an intricately tied ponytail that glimmered like amethyst where the sun hit it. She was dressed in a light yukata, violet and patterned with the silhouettes of black birds.

Yuya stared at her for a moment, and she stared at him. A few of his classmates wandered past him, taking looks at the two of them. Could they see her? Someone wolf whistled at the girl. No, she was definitely visible. Was he sure she was a yokai?

He became sure when she suddenly leaned in close to him, and started to...sniff him.

He pulled back with surprise, but she’d already seemed to get a whiff, because she leaned back on her heels, beaming.

“I thought it was you!” she said, sounding delighted. “No mistaking it!”

She clapped her hands together, and then, before he could say a word, she grabbed him by the wrist.

“Come on, come on! Let’s go!”

“H-huh? What? Wait —”

Giggling, she dragged him after her, and he could do little but hurry to keep up. Her legs were long and lithe, and she moved a little faster, a little more gracefully than a human would, and it was hard for him to match her pace. Even in her geta, she ran easily, as though the footwear wasn’t an issue for her.

“Hey! Where are we —”

Was he being kidnapped? Again? Selena — where was Selena? He tried to look behind him, but he didn’t glimpse her black fur. Dammit, Selena! Why now of all times?

The girl, however, didn’t take him towards the less populated parts of town, or towards the forests, which he would expect of someone kidnapping him. Instead, she pulled him towards the center of town.

They were nearly at the shopping district before Yuya managed to yank his arm out of her grip.

“What’s the big idea?” he gasped, drawing back from her a little. “Who are you?”

The girl looked at him, tilting her head as though puzzled. Then it was as though a lightbulb flickered on over her head, and she gasped, tapping a fist to her palm.

“Oh!” she said. “I forgot introductions!”

Who was this girl? She seemed flightier than a plastic bag in a windstorm. She smiled at him and bowed, a low, traditional gesture with a perfectly straight back.

“My name is Kurosaki Ruri,” she said. “I’m from the tengu clan.”

As she rose, Yuya saw the flicker of a shadow behind her. He sucked in a breath as for a moment, he saw wings. Big, black, long-feathered wings, like an angels, sprouting from her shoulder blades. Then it was gone, the image of them tucked back beneath her shoulder blades.

“The...the tengu clan?” Yuya said, feeling a little off balance. That was the clan who was challenging Reiji first. “You know you’re supposed to wait for the challenge, you can’t take me unless you win...”

Ruri’s lips parted. Then her eyes widened.

“Oh my goodness,” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “You thought I was kidnapping you! I’m so sorry! I must have given you quite a fright!”

She flapped her hands a few times, stepping back from him. The shadowy imprint of her wings appeared for a moment once again, flapping up and down as well, enough for Yuya to feel a breeze against his cheeks.

“Then...what are you doing?” Yuya asked.

Ruri tilted her head at him.

“Well, I wanted to meet you!”

Yuya stared at her. She stared back, a bright, cheerful smile on her face. Yuya looked over his shoulder again, checking to see if Selena was behind him. This time, he did catch a glimpse of her, her green eyes flashing from behind a decorative bush. Her tail lashed slowly, but she didn’t seem agitated, not yet. Maybe she hadn’t attacked because she hadn’t sensed any aggression from Ruri.

Ruri followed his gaze. She smiled and waved towards Selena. Selena’s eyes immediately vanished.

“It’s all right, I talked to your bodyguard before I met with you,” Ruri said. “I promise I don’t mean you any harm!”

Traitor , Yuya thought half-heartedly at Selena. But, well, if Selena was all right with it...

He considered the tengu girl again. She looked a little out of place near the shopping district, surrounded by people in modern clothing, people who looked...well, like people. Not the unnatural smoothness of her skin, the slightly too large eyes.

“But...why?” Yuya finally asked. “Why do you want to meet me?”

Ruri looked him up and down.

“Well, I’ve heard so much about you, but more as a concept than a person,” she said. “And then I saw you that night at the gathering. You were so...real!”

She clapped her hands together again, excited.

“Before then you’d only just been some thing , but then I realized that you were some one . And well — I wanted to get to know you.”

She smiled at him. It was an innocent, guileless smile, one that took Yuya off guard. He rubbed the back of his neck. This was definitely weird, but...

Well, hadn’t he just been thinking about humans and yokai becoming friends? If he got to know Ruri, from the clan that first challenged for him, maybe he can make the yokai see that he’s more than just the Bride. That he was more than just a fruit that was going to rot if he didn’t play the game.

“Well...okay,” Yuya said. “I guess I still don’t know why, but...sure, I guess.”

Ruri squealed with delight, throwing her hands into the air like an excited child.

“Excellent!! I have come up with some fun, human activities that we can bond over. Let’s go!”

She grabbed his wrist again, and this time, he let her drag him along. They drew a few curious looks here and there, but no one looked too concerned. Yuya shot another look back for Selena and saw her trailing somewhere behind, weaving around the feet of people who couldn’t see her.

Ruri dragged them a little further before she stopped, her eyes alight with excitement. She pointed ahead of her.

“Here’s our first stop!”

She looked as proud as though it were her own shop as she pointed out the crepe stand. There were a few people ahead of them in line, and as Yuya looked, his stomach rumbled. Well, he could go for something to eat.

“Humans often spend time with their friends by purchasing sweet things,” Ruri said, sound very proud of herself.

“Well, that is something we do sometimes,” Yuya said.

“Excellent! Then humans often take those sweet things and find someplace to sit and enjoy them together!”

Yuya couldn’t help but smile. Ruri’s excitement for something so mundane was sort of infectious.

“Yeah, that does happen. Is that what you want to do?”

Ruri’s eyes sparkled like a child in a candy store, and she nodded. Well, Yuya figured a yokai wouldn’t actually understand payment, so he checked his wallet to make sure he had enough to buy two crepes.

“So, if you wanted to try doing human stuff, why did you wait until you could do it with...well, me?” he asked as they took a place in line.

Ruri shifted from foot to foot, her eyes flickering over the menu taped to the side of the booth.

“Well, you can see us,” Ruri said.

“You can obviously make yourself visible,” Yuya said.

“Yes, but other humans aren’t very...understanding of our quirks, sometimes,” Ruri said. “You’ve seen us for so long, you understand us better. And you’re not an exorcist, so you don’t want to banish us from human spaces.”

Yuya’s lips parted.

“Is...that what exorcists do?”

Ruri didn’t seem to hear him, as they had reached the front of the line.

“One strawberry crepe, please!” she announced, looking overwhelmingly excited about placing an order at a food booth.

Yuya ordered a chocolate one. As expected, Ruri didn’t seem to understand currency, as she proudly placed three shiny stones into the tip jar. Yuya paid for both of them.

“I have never had one of these before,” Ruri said, looking with awe at her whipped cream covered crepe. “They smell sweet!”

“They’re good,” Yuya said. “Let me know what you think.”

Ruri took a small bite. She looked like she might have just ascended to heaven, the bliss across her expression was so great. Yuya couldn’t help but smile. Ruri was actually pretty sweet, and she felt genuine.

Ruri was nearly half done with her crepe already by the time they wandered over to the park and found a bench to sit down on. Yuya ate his a bit more slowly, his brain still catching up to what was going on.

“So...I’ve never seen many tengu before,” Yuya admitted. “I usually only see the small ones.”

As he spoke, he noticed a shiranui, a small ball of green fire, dance along the road, weaving around people. A small weasel with a split tail that he thought might be an osaki skittered past, diving up into a tree from which a women’s desiccated head hung upside down, staring at people passing through the park with hollow eye sockets. He shivered and looked away. At least they all seemed to be keeping their distance.

Ruri was watching him closely when he looked back to her. There was a sudden stillness, strange in the wake of her exuberant energy, to the way her eyes considered him. For the first time, he realized just how inhuman she really was.

She relaxed, though, smiling gently as she looked down at the remnants of her crepe. She licked a few crumbs off the napkin.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “None of the little ones will get near you while I’m around. Not to mention your bodyguard.”

She waved her fingers at Selena, who was sitting on a wall cleaning her ears like a normal cat — if normal cats had two tails. Selena eyed her, but didn’t move closer, and began to ignore her again after a beat to start licking between her legs — too catlike for Yuya’s taste. Yuya blushed and looked away.

“The more powerful yokai tend to stay away from humans nowadays,” Ruri said. “The little ones can make their way, sliding in between humans, feeding off their energy and refuse. Those of us who take up more space find it...grating, sometimes.”

She tapped her napkin to her lips. They were rather unnaturally red, as though she were wearing lipstick, but Yuya didn’t think she was.

“It’s easier to remain among our own people, in our own world, in the small places humans still do not often travel to,” she said. “Though...I do find it a bit lonely, sometimes.”

She looked out at the people, scores of them, all bustling up and down the streets going to wherever it was they were going. There was a loneliness to her, Yuya realized. It had been hidden beneath her joy and excitement, but now she somehow seemed...old, and distant. Apart from him, and getting further.

“Is it true that tengu have really long noses?” he blurted.

Ruri blinked, and all at once, she was back, right next to him again. She burst into a smile, and then a laugh.

“No!” she said, giggling. “It was a mistake some monks made in...the 14th century I think, before I was here, at least. They mistook our beaks for noses!”

She laughed again, and Yuya couldn’t help it. He laughed with her. It felt nice, relaxing even, to just be here. Ruri might not be human, but he could still be here. He could still be friends with her.

“My brother absolutely hates it,” Ruri snickered, wiping a tear from her eyes. “Every time he sees a statue, or a scroll, he just gets so red. I think that’s why they thought our skin was red, too — people like my brother getting angry all the time!”

“You have a brother?” Yuya asked.

Ruri quieted a bit. She was still smiling, but it stilled, along with the rest of her. Her eyes grew soft and distant again.

“Yes,” she said. “I think you’ve met him. At least, from far away.”

Yuya blinked, confused. He opened his mouth to ask.

Then, all at once, put two and two together. Kurosaki Ruri. Kurosaki . The tengu leader with the sharp eyes and voice, who had challenged Reiji. Yuya sobered, too. He tightened his hands around the remains of his crepe, crushing it.

“Is...is there any way we can keep them from fighting?” he asked.

Ruri looked at him, curious. He decided to push forward, before he could think better of it.

“Could we convince them that — that this isn’t worth it? I mean, I’m...like you said, I’m not just a concept. I’m a person . And you and I, we can...get along fine, even though we’ve only known each other a little bit. Can’t we find a way to make this whole Bride thing just...end? Find a different way for humans and yokai to get along?”

He stopped himself before the rambling turned to babbling. He was almost afraid to look at her, in case he found he was wrong, and that she wasn’t the kind person he thought she was. 

But when he finally looked up at her, all he saw in her eyes was a deep, aching sadness. She stood up from the bench, and extended a hand to Yuya.

“Will you come with me?” she asked. “I want to show you something.”

Yuya hesitated. She wasn’t just grabbing him and dragging him along this time, which made it feel a lot more important. Like if he took her hand, it might change everything. 

Carefully, he placed his hand in hers. 

All at once, the world seemed to go dim, as though clouds had suddenly covered the sun. The world was all in shades of black and gray, and the air felt heavy. For a moment, he panicked. He thought that she was kidnapping him, attacking him after all.

“Shh,” Ruri whispered. “It’s all right. I just don’t want the other humans to see this. They ask questions.”

He looked up at her, and sucked in a breath.

Her wings were fully visible, now, and they were huge . They enveloped them like a blanket, coiled over their heads. They shimmered, the black feathers iridescent. Ruri’s mouth was covered by a mask that looked like a long, black beak — or maybe it wasn’t a mask. The feathers covered her neck, poked out along her wrists beneath her sleeves. Her geta clad feet had become talons. She reached out with her other hand, sliding her arms beneath Yuya’s.

“Now, please don’t wriggle around too much,” she said. “I’m very strong, but even I have limits.”

Then she exploded into the air.

Yuya swallowed back a scream as the ground suddenly rocketed away from him, wind buffeting his ears. Ruri’s wings beat powerfully, the sound of them like drums.

But once Yuya’s eyes had stopped watering, and he had still panicking, he finally looked down. And he gasped.

The whole city spread out before them, sparkling in the daylight. The strange colorless cast that had briefly overtaken them was gone, now, and Yuya could see all the colors of the city. It was like a cascade of gemstones in the sunset light. He saw the river, sparkling like a living creature. And maybe it was, because as he watched, he saw part of the river lift itself up, turn a massive, dripping head to watch the two tiny things flying in its sky. Yuya nearly choked. A dragon. He’d never seen a dragon before.

“We’re just between our world and yours,” Ruri said, her voice carrying over the wind. “Your sight will be stronger here. In your world, even your sight will find it hard to see yokai as powerful as dragons. This is a blessed encounter.”

She nodded her head at the faraway dragon, the water dripping from its branched horns. Yuya hurried dipped his head back. The dragon watched a moment before inclining its own head. Then it relaxed back into the river, and became nothing more than glittering water again.

“I didn’t know our river had a dragon in it,” Yuya called.

Ruri laughed, the sound a bit strange coming out of her bird’s beak.

“The river is the dragon, silly,” she said. “All rivers and lakes are dragons. The rain is a dragon. You’re surrounded by dragons. They’re just older than we are, and better at hiding.”

Yuya thought about this, wondering about Kaito, the dragon clan’s leader. Would he challenge for Yuya’s hand at some point, too? Could Reiji win against something so old and experienced? All the more reason to find a way to end this without conflict.

Finally, their flight came to an end. Ruri brought them down over a copse of trees, landing gently beneath the trunks. She let Yuya down to his feet carefully.

“That was... incredible ,” Yuya gasped.

Ruri blinked. Then as she shifted before his eyes back to her human form, she smiled.

“You shared some human time with me,” she said. “I shared some tengu time with you! It’s a fair trade.”

He smiled back at her. For a moment, he’d forgotten why they’d come on this trip after all. Then Ruri’s eyes widened, and she grabbed Yuya’s wrist, pulling him down to crouch behind some bushes.

“What? What are we looking at?”

“Shhh,” Ruri said.

She pointed silently. Yuya looked.

They had landed in some trees surrounding what appeared to be a school building. Yuya didn’t recognize it, so he supposed it was from another district. It was empty, of course, since he himself had left school almost an hour ago. But...oh!

A kid about Yuya’s age headed out the doors, walking towards the gate. He had a duffel bag over each shoulder. Clubs, probably. He’d forgotten people would still be at school for those.

He wasn’t bad looking, Yuya admitted. Strong sort of face, his dark hair swooped in a sort of emo style. Was this who Ruri wanted him to see? What was special about him?

Then he noticed the second figure, the one standing near the school gates, leaning against it with his arms crossed. Even in his human shape, Yuya recognized him. Those sharp hazel yellow eyes, that swoop of dark hair low over his forehead. It was him — Kurosaki. The tengu clan leader. Yuya’s heart leaped. What was he doing here? Was he — he wasn’t going to attack this human, was he? Was that what Ruri wanted him to see? To prove that there was no way that yokai and humans could — 

“Oh! Shun!”

The human boy’s voice lifted with cheer as he came around the corner, noticing Kurosaki.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting! I wouldn’t have lingered so long.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Wasn’t here long anyway.”

Kurosaki’s eyes...softened.

Yuya’s lips parted as he watched Kurosaki push off the wall, turning to meet the human boy. He looked totally different all of a sudden, with his expression so soft.

“You got all that?” Kurosaki asked, pointing to the duffel bags.

“Maybe you could take one? I’d appreciate it.”

Kurosaki nodded, taking one of the bags from the boy and hefting it over his shoulder. They turned away from Yuya and Ruri, headed down the street together. The boy talked cheerily, interspersed with Kurosaki’s short comments back. Before they vanished from sight, however, Yuya couldn’t miss the way Kurosaki reached out and clasped the other boy’s hand in his.

He and Ruri sat in silence for a moment, still hidden in the bushes. When he looked at her again, she had her knees pulled up to her chest, her face tucked against them. She looked so sad .

“Kurosaki-san is...with...” Yuya fumbled in the silence.

Ruri nodded.

“We’ve known Yuto since he was small,” Ruri said. “His house used to be right up against the boundary of our territory. He wandered in one day, and he wasn’t scared of big brother when he found him.”

She smiled, a small, tremulous thing.

“We...well, we became friends. We played in our territory together all the time. But then he moved away. I cried for so long. But...big brother...he went looking for him.”

Ruri looked down at her knees.

“I didn’t know he’d found him,” she said. “I was always kept in our territory. I wasn’t allowed to go wandering around in the human world, no matter how much I wanted to. But when my brother became the clan leader, I had more freedom. So I followed him one day...”

She trailed off. For a moment, they just sat there, together, quiet.

“I’m not mad at him for never telling me. I missed Yuto, but not the same way big brother did. I don’t blame him for wanting to keep this secret to himself.”

“But why does it have to be a secret?” Yuya asked.

Ruri looked at him sadly.

“Because relationships between yokai and humans, aside from the Bride, aren’t looked on well,” she said. “Especially for clan leaders.”

She heaved a big sigh, and let her legs slid out in front of her.

“Big brother doesn’t want to fight for your hand,” she said. “I think of all the clan leaders, he probably understands the most that you’re not just a special fruit to be won. After all, he...loves Yuto.”

She smiled even more sadly, and her wings appeared like shadows, wrapping around herself.

“But the rest of the tengu are starting to whisper that big brother was too young to become leader. That he’s not strong enough. I think there might be some who plan to challenge him for his place. The only way he can prove himself is...”

“By taking part in the contest to get me,” Yuya said quietly.

He understood, now. It wasn’t as simple as making friends with the yokai. They had their own reasons, too.

“Big brother doesn’t want to win, but it would solidify his standing if he does,” she said. “If...if he does win...I promise we’ll all take really good care of you, Yuya.”

She reached out and put her hand on top of his, looking at him imploringly.

“Big brother understands, he really does. He knows you’re a real person with feelings. That’s why, if he had to do it, he wanted to be the first one to challenge for you. So that you don’t have to be left to the rest of them.”

Yuya looked at her hand. He looked into her eyes. They were still so genuine. 

But then he thought of Reiji’s hand. Of Reiji’s eyes. And all at once, he felt a deep, bone-aching desire to go back, and see Reiji’s smile again. He still hadn’t even gone to thank him, like he’d promised.

He slid his hand from Ruri’s.

“Thank you,” he said. “But...I think...I think I want Reiji to win.”

Chapter Text

The sun was beginning to set by the time Yuya walked up the path to Reiji’s house. Ruri had dropped him off back at the end of the street. She’d seemed a lot quieter, but still kind, still gentle, and she’d squeezed his hand when she said goodbye, and that she would see him soon at the day of the challenge. Was it really coming up so soon?

Yuya hesitated at the door, hand held half up, ready to knock but not quite doing it yet. What was he even going to say? All of his grand ideas about telling Reiji his plan to reason with the clan leaders seemed so silly now. Kurosaki didn’t even want to fight, but he was going to, anyway. Yuya couldn’t possibly figure out how to overcome thousands of years of tradition for creatures as inhuman as yokai, to convince them that there was another way. They were going to do what they were going to do, because they were supposed to do it.

So then, what was Yuya supposed to do? He had been all fired up this morning, all excited to talk to Reiji about his ideas to befriend the yokai and convince them that there was no reason to fight.

But it had turned out that he didn’t really matter so much as the concept of him did. Clan leaders had to challenge for him, or risk losing their status. Even if they didn’t want to, they had to participate. It was all so...messed up. Reiji probably would have told him so, if Yuya hadn’t met Ruri before going to see him.

He sighed, letting his hand fall down to his side without knocking. The porch creaked behind him, and he turned around to see Selena leaning against the support column, arms folded.

“You’re not going in?” she asked.

“Why did you let Ruri come to meet me?” he asked, ignoring her question.

Selena blinked at him once, like a cat, her expression unchanging.

“She’s a friend of mine. I knew she wouldn’t hurt you. And if she had, I would have stepped in.”

Yuya frowned.

“You’re friends? With another yokai, from another clan?”

“It’s not as uncommon as you might think. Besides, I’m not a traditional clan member, remember?”

By way of explanation, she let her cat ears and tail appear for a moment, the split tail lashing behind her. They faded from sight just as quickly, leaving her looking mostly human again. Yuya kneaded his knuckles into his forehead.

“I guess...I just don’t get it,” he said. “What’s the point ? Why is the Bride contest so important, that you have to fight, even if you don’t want to? Even if you don’t care to ‘win’ me?”

“It’s the way it’s been,” Selena said, shrugging. “Clans may interact more than you think, but they’re still always struggling for control over the others. It’s like politics in your own world.”

Yuya’s shoulders slumped. With a sigh, he slid down to a crouch, then let his legs slide over the edge of the porch to dangle, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I guess...I really thought I could convince someone,” he mumbled. “That if they understood I was a person...an individual...that I could show them we didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re human,” Selena said, “even outside of being the Bride. To many yokai, humans are simply things to use, to eat, to gain power, to ignore, to scare away, to avoid.”

“I guess I couldn’t change that overnight.”

Yuya hung his head, staring down at his hands. His enthusiasm from this morning seemed silly, now. This contest wasn’t going to end until he was either dead or married, or, on the off chance, that he made it to the end of the year and his fruit rotted.

After a long, long silence, he felt Selena sit down next to him. He glanced to her, but she wasn’t looking at him, staring instead out into the distance. She had her hands clasped together in her lap.

“For many yokai,” she said. “The Bride is the last way we interact with humanity. So many of the older yokai have drawn away from humans. So it’s understandable that they wouldn’t think of you as anything more than something to use. Even those who think differently are under pressure from the rest.”

She glanced at him, her eyes briefly contracting into slits, a visible reminder that she wasn’t as human as she looked.

“Reiji wants to change things like that,” she said. “He doesn’t just want to protect you. He wants to make a world where yokai of all clans can live in peace. And not just yokai, but humans, too.”

She fixed him with her slit-eyed gaze.

“So why don’t you trust him, a bit?” she said. “Stop thinking you have to fix this all by yourself. Trust Reiji.”

Yuya’s lips parted. There was such conviction in her eyes, such confidence.

“I...I do trust Reiji,” he said.

“Do you? Then why are you always trying to pull away from him? Why are you always trying to find a way to solve this problem on your own?”

“Reiji is the one throwing himself into harm’s way for me,” Yuya argued. “I just don’t want him to get hurt!”

“Then work together with him.”

She said it so simply, as though it were obvious. Yuya stared at her, confused. She rolled her eyes.

“Both of you are so alike in some ways,” she said, standing up. “You both try to take the world on your shoulders, all by yourselves.”

She cracked her back. Then she started to walk away down the path. Yuya quickly stood up.

“Wait,” he called after her.

“Talk to him,” she said, letting herself out the gate. “Trust him. He cares about you, Sakaki Yuya. Find a solution together.”

She turned around the gate and ducked away, disappearing. The next he saw of her, a large black cat was darting down the street, disappearing into the spaces between houses. He stared after her into the darkening evening, until he wouldn’t have been able to see her if she was right in front of him.

He turned back towards the house, where the lanterns had come to life, flickering with firelight though no one had arrived to light them. He stared at the door for a long moment.

Then he knocked. Quickly, before he could think better of it.

Tsukikage answered the door, veil over his face.

“Sakaki-dono,” he said, bowing. “Reiji-dono is in the dining room. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes, please. Thanks.”

He followed down the hall after Tsukikage, his mind still wrestling with itself, tangled up in all his thoughts.

Was Selena right? All this time, had he been trying to pull away from Reiji? Had he not trusted him? And what about Reiji? Was he trying to take it all on himself, too?

I just don’t want him to keep getting hurt for me. I can’t stand it.

Why can’t I stand it?

Reiji was reading by the light of a candle, nursing a small cup of tea when Tsukikage slid the door open, bowing to let Yuya through. Reiji looked up with surprise. He was bleary eyed behind his glasses, looking slumped and tired.

“Yuya,” he said, quickly getting to his feet. “What brings you here so late? Is something wrong?”

He looked so tired. And now that Yuya was in front of him again, his early morning thoughts of Reiji’s gentle eyes, his soft hands, his quiet way of speaking, it all came to him full force. For a moment, he couldn’t speak. He was so...choked up. Reiji was doing so much. And Yuya was trying to do so much, all by themselves.

Why hadn’t they been working together, for real, from the start? Why hadn’t he insisted that Reiji not treat him as a fragile object? Why had Yuya not confided his own worries and fears in him, hadn’t really tried to get to know him, to remember their friendship as children?

“Yuya?” Reiji said, looking worried.

Yuya swallowed.

“Hey, Reiji,” he said. “Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

Yuya, Reiji thought, was acting a bit...strangely. 

Reiji glanced at the large clock in the middle of the park for perhaps the twentieth time. Such a strange thing, the human fascination with time. It was so very important for them to section off the very flow of normal life in such a way. Perhaps if yokai lived lives on the same timeline as humans, they might feel the same.

For Reiji’s own part, this was the first time he had been so concerned with time. Yuya had asked to meet here at about four pm, after he got out of school. Reiji had assumed they might walk to the location together, seeing as Reiji was also (when his duties allowed him) technically attending the same school as Yuya. But Yuya had insisted that he had to go home first, and promised to meet him here when he was ready. Reiji wasn’t sure what that meant.

He’d seemed a bit off ever since the confrontation with Ray. Perhaps he was starting to feel the true ramifications of his situation, and he was frightened. It would be an understandable reaction. For all of the danger Yuya had seen so far, that confrontation with Reiji’s sister had been particularly precarious. He still tensed when he thought of it. He’d never thought that Ray would go to such lengths...and now, he had no idea where his sister was. That worried him. There were just so many factors that he had to juggle...and Yuya was probably feel the stress, and that’s why he was acting so odd...

“Sorry, did I keep you waiting?”

Reiji looked up out of his thoughts. And for a moment, he forgot how to speak.

Yuya had changed out of his school uniform — presumably this was why he’d wanted to go home first. Usually, he wore his school jacket on his shoulders like a cape, a stylistic choice that several teachers didn’t seem to agree with.

But, Reiji realized, this might be the first time he’d seen Yuya in an outfit that had nothing to do with his uniform, not since they were children. He had on a short-sleeve black jacket with large pockets, tossed over a deep red shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. He’d switched to a choker with small metal circles dotted along the length of it, matched by the thin belt slung over the top of his shirt and the black wristbands he had on. His gray shorts had been rolled up to over his knees, tall black socks just beneath them and nearly blending into the ankle high, laced up boots. He looked...well...

Reiji realized that there was a heat in his cheeks, one that he had promised he wouldn’t allow. He quickly covered his face with one hand, masking it with the motion of fixing his glasses, as he quickly shapeshifted the blush out of sight. It was a bit of a pain to maintain such an illusion consciously, but it was better than nothing.

“No, I haven’t been here long,” he lied. “Was there something in particular you were hoping for us to discuss here?”

When he was certain he had enough control over his shapeshifting to look at Yuya again, he found that Yuya was looking right at him. It took him aback. Yuya always seemed to be a little too nervous to meet his gaze, but not this time. This time, there was such a power in his gaze that it made it difficult for Reiji to maintain his illusion. He was on the verge of slipping out into his half yokai form, right here in the middle of town.

“Um, not really,” Yuya said finally, a faint heat coming to his own cheeks. “I just...sort of wanted to hang out with you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze wandering away from Reiji.

“I mean, I feel like the only time we see each other is when we’re talking about what’s going to happen, or dealing with the aftermath,” he said. “I wanted...to spend some more peaceful time with you, you know?”

He glanced back at Reiji, and looked him up and down.

“Hey, actually, can I ask you a stupid question?”

“You can ask anything,” Reiji said, still trying to process what Yuya had been saying. He simply...wanted to spend time with him?

“Is the school uniform the only clothes you have other than your kimono?” Yuya asked, pointing at Reiji’s clothes.

Reiji blinked at him.

“Do I need clothing other than those two outfits?” he asked.

Yuya broke out into a smile, almost laughing.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Okay, yeah. I hadn’t really come up with a plan for today yet, but I know where we’re going first. Come on!”

He grabbed Reiji’s wrist and pulled him out of the park. Reiji was so surprised that he just let him, a heat rushing up his arm from Yuya’s touch.

No , he reminded himself. No, you’re not allowed to feel that way anymore. You’re going to protect him.

But it was hard to maintain his composure with Yuya so close to him. Yuya truly had no idea how overpowering his scent was. Other humans had their own smells, even alluring ones, but the Bride was on another level. It was as though he exuded a scent mixed with everything that made Reiji think of his happiest days — the smell of a long rain in the garden, the warm scent of freshly grilled fish, the sweetness of fruit plucked straight off the tree, the heavy blanket of pine needles in the deepest parts of the woods. And it wasn’t simply that, either. It was everything about him, even beyond that which his status as the Bride gave him. It was an aura of warmth, of welcome, of the sense that every time he smiled, it was somehow a smile for you alone, no matter how often or for how many people he smiled.

These were dangerous thoughts. Reiji had to get himself back in line. When they slowed as they headed into the streets, Reiji carefully and subtly slid his wrist free of Yuya’s hand. Yuya didn’t seem to notice, or at least, he gave no indication. He pointed ahead of him.

“There,” he said. “I don’t usually shop here, but I think it might fit you.”

“Where is it we’re going?” Reiji said.

“We’re buying you normal people clothes.”

Reiji blinked, confused.

“And how does this relate to the upcoming challenge?”

Yuya looked back over his shoulder at him. He smiled, a goofy smile that was barely holding back a laugh.

“Nothing at all,” he said. “Like I said, Reiji, I just want to hang out. I don’t want to think about yokai bride stuff or anything for a few hours.”

Reiji was even more confused now.

“But then, shouldn’t you want to spend this time with your friend, rather than me? Surely I remind you of such topics.”

Yuya stopped, causing people on the street to weave around them. A few people gave them dirty looks, but Yuya didn’t seem to notice them. He was entirely focused on Reiji — capturing him in that gaze. Even if he hadn’t been the Bride, the gaze would have ensnared him, Reiji was sure. There was something about his apple red eyes that enchanted Reiji like a spell, something about the courage and determination, the lightness and enthusiasm those eyes exuded.

Yuya bit his lip, then, his cheeks reddening. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Wow, okay,” he said. “I guess — maybe we should have talked first? God, I’m not good at this. Yuzu did all the planning back when we dated...”

His cheeks were almost as red as his eyes as he convulsively rubbed the back of his neck. Reiji took a moment to process his words. He’d done nothing but plan for his upcoming challenge with Kurosaki for the last few days that he realized his brain was becoming slow on the uptake in other areas.

But finally, his mind zeroed in on the word. Date . That was what humans called...

Reiji couldn’t reduce the flush in his cheeks this time. He covered it again with his hand, pretending to fix his glasses.

“...ah,” he said. “I suppose I didn’t realize...that this was courting.”

Yuya let out a snort, a barely held in laugh.

“‘Courting’,” he said, grinning through his blush. “Um. Yeah. I guess that’s what this is. I’m trying to court you.”

Reiji looked away from Yuya. Dangerous. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. This was such a dangerous place to be for him right now. It was taking everything he had not to say those forbidden words to Yuya. To ask that forbidden question.

“Is...is that wrong?” Yuya asked, his voice suddenly quiet. “I mean...aren’t I...aren’t you...”

Reiji’s chest tightened. He had to — he had to get away from Yuya. He had to go before he — 

But when he tried to move away, Yuya’s hand snapped out, snatching his. Reiji was more than powerful enough to break Yuya’s grip, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“Reiji,” Yuya said. “Please. Talk to me.”

His voice was so quiet. So uncertain. This was Reiji’s fault. Because of him...

I never should have gotten close , he thought wildly. I never should have revealed myself to him. I should have just protected him from far away. He never would have known the fights were even happening. I never should have — 

“Reiji!”

Yuya’s voice startled Reiji back to himself. Belatedly, he realized that he’d let some of his true nature out in his swirl of thoughts. The backs of his hand had grown furred, and he could feel his pupils turning to slits, his teeth lengthening in his mouth. Carefully, he rearranged his shape, settling back into human form.

He looked back to Yuya. His eyes once again ensnared him, held him fast.

He’d never had a chance from the beginning, he realized.

Yuya squeezed his hand, and Reiji did not try to pull away. Without complaint, he let Yuya lead him out of the crowd, down the street, and back into the park.

“I’ll be right back,” Yuya said, leading Reiji to a bench. “Don’t you dare move.”

He gestured at Reiji by pointing two fingers to his eyes and then at Reiji. Then he turned, and jogged away. Reiji watched him go.

After a beat, he settled down onto the bench to wait. Yuya didn’t go far. Reiji watched him, careful to check for nearby yokai, as he headed to a nearby vending machine. By the time Yuya returned with two cans of juice, Reiji had managed to calm himself back down. Yuya pushed a can into his hand, and Reiji raised his eyebrows at it.

“Did I tell you I enjoy lemon milk tea, or is mind reading a new power of the Bride?”

“I asked Tsukikage and Hikage what you like to drink before,” Yuya admitted.

He sat down beside him, opening up his own can of soda. Reiji stared at his own bottle for a long moment without opening. They sat there, silent beside each other, watching humans and yokai alike mill around the park.

“Can I ask you something?”

Yuya’s voice was low, soft. Nervous, even. He shifted beside Reiji, his foot tapping on the ground.

“You’re welcome to ask me anything you like,” Reiji said.

“Why haven’t you asked me to marry you again?”

Reiji’s eyes stayed fixed on his bottle. The words bubbled up inside him again. Yuya, will you marry me? He wanted to say them so much that it hurt, as though it pressed against his insides like a soda can. But he couldn’t. Not if he wanted Yuya to stay alive.

“Does it bother you that I haven’t?” he asked.

Do you want me to? he didn’t ask.

Yuya didn’t answer right away. He took a long sip of his soda.

“I...I think it does,” he admitted.

Reiji shot him a quick look. A hope bloomed inside him that he had to quash, quickly. He hadn’t realized until now, but the idea that Yuya could ever feel that way about him — he’d pushed the idea aside for so long that he hadn’t realized how much he’d wished it could be true. How much he’d feared it could be.

Yuya’s eyes were fixed on the people milling about the park, gaze flickering to follow a little yokai here or there. He held his can close to his lips without drinking.

“I...the truth is...when I promised you all those years ago, I didn’t know what marriage was.”

“So I assumed,” Reiji said. He looked down at his bottle again. After a beat, he popped the lid off, and took a small sip. “That’s why I didn’t want to put that pressure on you.”

“But the more I thought about it, the more I got confused,” Yuya said, rubbing his forehead. “It’s like...it’s not that I want to get married. I’m only seventeen, and that’s...well, that’s pretty early for marriage. For humans, at least.”

He added the last bit in a rush, almost as an afterthought. Reiji couldn’t help but smile, but there was little joy in it. He drowned the smile in another sip of his tea.

“But then I started to think that...like, that you’d never asked me again. You’ve only been talking about me making it to the end of the year, which makes me think you don’t intend to propose again. And for some reason that...it makes me sad.”

Yuya swallowed.

“It makes me feel like...I don’t know, like something might be wrong with me.”

Reiji turned to Yuya so quickly that Yuya actually jumped.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Reiji said firmly. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

Yuya searched his eyes, lips parted. Part of his soda had sloshed onto the seat beside him in his motion, and the puddle sparkled in the sun as it began to drip through the slats of the bench. Yuya bit his lip.

“I want to understand what’s going on,” he said. “The truth is, Reiji...I think about you all the time, now. I think about the idea that some other yokai might get ahold of me, and it scares me. Not just because I don’t know who they are, but because I want to be around you .”

He swallowed again, his soda forgotten in his hand as he turned to face Reiji more head on.

“I’ve thought about you since you left when we were kids,” Yuya said. “My memories are so fuzzy, and it hurts like crazy that they’re gone. I want to remember you better than I do. I want to get to know you. I...I like you, Reiji.

“I want...I want us to be a team on this whole crazy thing.”

His teeth dug into his lips again.

“I want to trust you,” he said. “And I want you to trust me too.”

Reiji never stood a chance again Yuya’s earnestness. He’d know that from the beginning. Even as a child, he’d been this way. It was taking every bit of restraint Reiji had not to reach for Yuya right now.

“So please,” Yuya said. “Please, Reiji. Talk to me.”

Reiji felt tears pricking at his eyes. He closed them, and turned away. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

“I was afraid you might despise me,” he said finally. “That somehow I would manipulate you into falling in love with me, and then when you realized the truth, that you would think I had done it on purpose.”

He felt Yuya put his hand down right beside him, close enough to touch, but Reiji didn’t reach for him. He forced himself not to.

“The truth,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yuya, the truth is that I have been in love with you since I left. I have thought of little else but you. Of becoming the one who has the opportunity to court you and win your hand.”

Yuya sucked in a sharp breath. It was an admission that Reiji had never meant to make out loud, but it was too late.

“What happened, then?” Yuya whispered.

Reiji swallowed. He bowed his head.

“I learned the truth,” he said quietly. “And I knew that if I truly loved you, Yuya, that I could never ask for your hand. That my only chance of seeing you alive was to release you from this cycle...and make sure that you would never see me again afterward.”

Yuya’s breath caught again. Reiji heard his nails dig into the wood beside him.

Then, suddenly, he felt Yuya’s hand on top of his. He looked at him with surprise, as Yuya’s fingers laced into Reiji’s. Yuya met Reiji’s eyes.

“I’m not going to hate you,” he said. “After everything you’ve done for me...I’m never going to hate you, Reiji, or think anything like that of you.”

He was so close . Reiji ached with the urge to reach out and hold him, to draw him into his arms and press his lips to his. Things that he wasn’t allowed. A place he’d promised himself that he’d never let them get to.

“I’m not running away,” Yuya said, stubbornly, his hand tightening on Reiji. “So please, Reiji. Trust me.”

Reiji’s throat was tight with tears he would never shed. Almost involuntarily, he tightened his grip on Yuya’s hand. He ran his tongue over his dry lips.

“No Bride has ever survived the year before,” he said, the words coming out with difficulty. “They’ve all either been eaten, or married.”

He had to lick his lips again, they were so dry.

“And if the Bride is married, then....”

Yuya watched him, waiting, not letting go of his hand. Reiji nearly choked. The world was cruel. Too cruel. He wanted nothing more than to kiss this boy, and it was the one thing he could never let himself do. He could never let himself fall in love with Sakaki Yuya, because then he would want to spend his life with him. And that was something he would never receive.

“Nine months after the Bride is married, they give birth to a child,” Reiji said. “And then they die.”

Masumi kicked a rock as hard as she could. It was too small to be very cathartic, though, and it just skittered annoyingly across the street. Biting back a growl, Masumi shoved her hands into her pockets. Man she was in a mood today.

She just...she just couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Yuzu’s eyes. When she’d tugged on Masumi’s hand and begged for them to just go, to leave them alone. Masumi clenched her jaw. She was an idiot. She shouldn’t have listened. That yokai...it had been powerful enough to manifest. Even in such a spiritually powerful area, it should be difficult for yokai to make themselves fully visible to normal humans. If that kid ended up getting hurt...

Well, so far, he hadn’t. Though Masumi had let Yuzu talk her off the mountain, she’d done her own research, like a good exorcist. The kid’s name was Yugo, and he went to a public school not far from her own school. He’d still been coming to classes regularly, Masumi had checked. But he didn’t seem to have any parents, and lived alone. Perfect target for a yokai. Easy to make disappear. Masumi ground her teeth again. She shouldn’t have listened .

But just...the look in Yuzu’s eyes. The desperation, the fear. Not of the yokai, but...of Masumi . As though Masumi wasn’t the person Yuzu had thought she was.

Masumi kicked another rock. This one bounced off the shoe of a guy who bustled past on his cell phone, but he didn’t even notice, so that wasn’t cathartic either.

Yokai are dangerous , Masumi’s father had warned her over and over again, ever since she was a child. Be careful not to let on that you can see them. They may attack without provocation.

It was the first time Masumi had seen a yokai like that girl, though. She’d been a yuki onna, Masumi was sure of it. The temperature drop, the way she seemed to fuzz at the edges like she was made of condensation...definitely a snow girl. In all of Masumi’s lessons, she’d learned that yuki onna were powerful, dangerous yokai, able to freeze humans to death with a look. Sometimes they would hang around mountain paths and ask travelers to hold their freezing cold child, then let the child grow heavier and heavier in the poor soul’s arms until they were crushed to death. They were territorial and hateful. It was lucky that in today’s day and age, internal heating systems and the lack of need to go up into mountain passes had reduced contact with them.

So then why was one out...canoodling with some random human boy without killing him? It just didn’t make sense . Yokai and humans weren’t supposed to get along. Exorcists were supposed to be the proud line, standing between humans and the supernatural, protecting them from the wiles and dangers of yokai.

But yet again, Yuzu’s haunted eyes came back to Masumi’s head. Masumi let out a frustrated noise that made a few passersby look at her. She kicked one more rock, and this one skittered out into the park. She didn’t know why it was bothering her so much! So Yuzu was too softhearted to be able to see the dangers. Well, it didn’t matter, because for some reason, she was protected from yokai anyway! It shouldn’t bother Masumi. She should just go up that mountain and exorcise that snow girl. Or she should tell her parents, report in to the clan about it.

Why hadn’t she done that already? Why was she hesitating?

Why did she keep thinking about Yuzu’s expression over and over again?

This walk was not helping Masumi clear her head. With a groan, she headed out into the park. Maybe a drink from the vending machine would do her some good.

As she reached the machine, however, a prickle started at the back of her neck. It was the sense she only got when there was a particularly high concentration of yokai around. Normal enough for this part of town, there were always a few small ones getting underfoot and playing pranks. But this felt different. This felt a lot stronger than normal.

Cautiously, trying to remain casual, Masumi looked over her shoulder as she dug in her pockets for change. Her eyes flickered over the park, not staying on any one place for too long. She saw a few blurred auras that indicated some small yokai, nothing to be concerned with. Too small to cause any lasting damage. Nothing that would make her feel like —

Her eyes fixed on someone sitting on a bench on the other side of the fountain. There were two someones, but only one of them was exuding an aura so big and hot that it nearly made her choke.

He was fully visible, fully manifested, right in the middle of town. That was...that wasn’t usual. A yokai that powerful in the city ? Disguised as a human? After her recent encounter with a yokai powerful enough to manifest, and that one on a mountain full of spiritual energy, Masumi’s whole system was on edge.

The yokai are getting more active, Masumi thought wildly. Is this why father is so tense? Is this the reason for all of the clan meetings lately? Is something going on, other than that rogue exorcist?

Whoever this yokai was, and whatever he was doing here, Masumi definitely wasn’t powerful enough to handle something like this on her own. She needed to call her father.

Her fingers were halfway through the number when her brain finally caught up with her, and she noticed the other person sitting on the bench beside the yokai. Hang on...wasn’t that...

Wasn’t that Yuzu’s friend? Yuya? And was he...was he holding hands with the yokai?

Masumi stopping dialing, staring now with far less caution than she should have. But the yokai, and Yuya, weren’t paying attention to her. They were focused on each other. They seemed to be...talking, really intently. 

The yokai said something, and Yuya looked as though he sucked in a breath, his skin going pale. But he didn’t release the yokai’s hand. He almost seemed to tighten his grip.

It was then that Masumi realized she had to stop staring so openly, and ducked her head back down to the vending machine.

I have a friend who’s been having...supernatural problems , Yuzu had said. I wanted to try to help.

Did Yuzu know about this? About this yokai that was so close to her friend? Was that why...why she’d been so upset about Masumi attacking that yuki onna? Masumi’s head spun.

She deleted the number on her phone. Instead, she brought up her email.

She was going to have to swallow her pride. She was going to have to talk to Yuzu directly.