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Status Abnormality

Summary:

Wolf returns from the Floating Palace with the Dragon Tear. Only, he's not quite the same.

or

Did you know when you are enfeebled you can deathblow a Noble and restore your status by sucking their vitality? No I did not know this.

Notes:

This entire fic is Kirity’s fault.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Wolf returns to Ashina ablaze.

It is like Hirata all over again, he thinks, but so much worse. Now, besides the crackle of flames there is the sound of canons and gunfire. Now he cuts through the Ministry and is cut open in turn. There are not starving mountain bandits - these are trained soldiers, better armed and armoured than the Ashina soldiers ever were.

Wolf fights. He dies again.

He wakes to swing his sword. He wakes to more fire and death. He dies again. 

When he wakes there is blood dripping down his chin and gore clotting his teeth. There is a trail of corpses behind him, chests clawed and chewed open.

What has he done?

 

"Lord Genichiro, there is something wrong."

Kuro and Genichiro are in the silver grass field outside of Ashina castle. Isshin bought them time as they ran past to hide. Emma is nowhere to be found.

Hiding, always hiding, always running. Genichiro hates it. Hates that he is always reliant on other people, other tools for strength. Isshin had not needed lightning or divine waters to wrest Ashina from the invaders. Isshin had only needed his sword and his spear. 

Isshin is likely dead, at this point. Emma - he does not think of it.

And where is the Divine Heir's dog? Nowhere to be found. So much for loyalty.

Not that he can judge. Genichiro had been away when the Ministry struck, searching for the Mortal Blade. Another failure. He has the sword strapped to his back now, but to what end? Even Isshin in his prime could not save them now. 

The only way, he thinks, would be to destroy the Ministry completely. Take the shogunate for himself.

More battles. More blood, more death. And to what end if he actually succeeded? More intrigue, balancing the needs and wants of the factions, the royals cooped in their courts but who still must be appeased. The mere thought of it exhausts him. Why could they not leave Ashina alone? 

Perhaps this is why his grandfather gave up. He thinks of the heated arguments that they had, in the last few years. 

Another thought to be pushed away. It is not as though he will ever know the answer to this question.

Kuro is still looking around the silvergrass field with his wide eyes. Genichiro had grabbed the boy and run from the castle as his grandfather had ordered. It would not do for him to fall in the Ministry's hands.

"And where," Genichiro asks roughly. "Is your shinobi?”

Kuro’s safety should not be his responsibility. The Divine Heir has caused him enough grief with his stubbornness. 

Kuro fixes him with a steady gaze. "He has ascended to the Fountainhead Palace to retrieve the Dragon's Tears."

"Severence," Genichiro breathes. He had heard Lord Takeru and Lady Tomoe speak of it before in hushed whispers, stopping when they realised he was there.

It had worked. Takeru had died.

It had not. Kuro was born. The Divine Heritage went on and he could not use it.

Another loss, yet another one he could do nothing about. There is no end to his weakness, no end to his failures.

Kuro looks around again, features pinched with worry.

"Something is wrong," Kuro says again, urgent.

Genichiro feels if now, a prickling in the air, not unlike the tension that rises every time he calls down lightning. There had been a demon, his men had reported. In the outskirts, blazing through Ashina and Ministry troops alike.

Something comes rustling from the long grass. Genchiro steps in front of Kuro, unsheathes his sword.

And it is the shinobi that steps out, but nigh unrecognisable soaked in blood, only the gleam of the prosthetic arm his black blade indicating who he is.

"Wolf!" Kuro moves to run toward his shinobi but Genichiro yanks him back, the prickling feeling on his skin ever stronger.

"Lord Kuro." The shinobi has a sword strapped to his back, another at his side, but clutches neither, has his hands and teeth bloody. "Stay back."

"Wolf, what is wrong?"

"Something happened... in the Fountainhead Palace." The shinobi's face twists up.”One of the nobles living there had attacked me and - I am not quite sure I am the same since.” 

“What have you done, shinobi?” 

The man looks up at him with dark eyes and Genichiro cannot help but shudder. “A hunger came upon me. And when I woke, all the men were dead.” 

“Ministry agents?” 

“Ministry agents. The rats.” Wolf looks at one bloodied hand, as though he is surprised it is connected to him. "The Ashina men too, the few who were still alive. I do not know what had happened.” 

Genichiro should take the blade from his back and slice the shinobi’s throat open. If it is severance that the Divine Heir wants, he can do it. This is a blade that could cut the Divine Heir’s skin open. Surely it would put one pathetic shinobi out of his misery. 

Something makes him stay his hand. He does not know if it is pity, or weakness. 

He closes his eyes, feels the lightning roiling under his skin, the clouds gathering in the sky. It is harder to summon rain than it is lightning - he has long learnt to not think if there are deeper meanings to things like these - but the rain begins after. He thinks they should put the worst of the fires out. 

“We head back to the castle,” he says curtly. “If you have cleared it out as you said, shinobi, then we should be safe there.” 

Kuro does not protest, only follows silently. Wolf dogs their steps like a beaten animal, curling into himself in disgrace.

Already the general in Genichiro is wondering how they may make use of this development.

 

The carnage is nowhere as bad as Genichiro feared. At least, not for his side. 

The trail of corpses are mostly the Ministry men in their flaming red armour - cracked open and bloodied at the chests and throats, their flesh torn out with teeth and nail. Most of his men it seemed, had known something of the supernatural dangers of Ashina, and fled. It is only the ones who had already been injured by the Ministry who were unable to flee. Who likely would have died anyway.

He does not say this aloud. Better that Wolf and Kuro carry the guilt of their actions around their necks.

The rain puts the fires out. The remaining men are already clearing the mess, part silently to let him, the Divine Heir, and the shinobi pass. 

He finds Isshin in the Ashina dojo, surrounded by death. The old man died the way he would have wanted, with a blade in his hand. He climbs up again to Kuro’s room, and finds Emma there, her robes scorched and soot all around her face. 

“You’re alive,” he breathes. The gods have their small mercies still. 

Her eyes are wide, frightened in a way he has never seen before. It scares him more than the bloodied shinobi's appearance had. “Genichiro dono,” she says. “The Sculptor - there is a demon that is rampaging in the Ashina outskirts. It must be put down.” 

He realises her hands are blistered and bleeding, the sword in her hands broken. 

“I will take care of it,” Wolf says, a blade that cannot rest. 

“I will go with you.” Genichiro does not understand why Wolf is so startled. “Kill my men again and I will put you down,” he says and Wolf nods. 

They leave Kuro with Emma. Step through the shinobi door at the side of the room - Genichiro is horrified, how many have come and gone his castle like this? - to the old dilapidated temple in the outskirts and move towards the source of the demon.

And there is fire. Even more than when the Ministry had overrun the castle. The flames light up the sky so bright it is almost as though it is day. 

The demon howls and howls. Burns the men who run towards him to a crisp before any of their spears can even touch him with his flaming arm.

Wolf reaches into his pockets and Genichiro sees the sugars he pulls out and cracks under his teeth. Takes a swig from a red gourd - different from the one Emma has made. 

“A moment,” Wolf says, and then he is gone, leaping towards the demon. 

Genichiro could kill him. He does not care how powerful the shinobi is, he does not care that this is a shinobi who will not die. This is not a task he should undertake alone. 

He slings his bow from his shoulder and nocks an arrow. 

Wolf is dead before the arrow hits its mark.

Wolf is alive again in the next breath, pulling himself from the dirt, slashing away at the demon’s legs as Genichiro sends another arrow flying, this one burying in the meat of the demon’s face. 

It is not enough. 

Genichiro strips himself of his armour as he moves closer, switches to his sword. A demon cannot be brought down by the blades of men alone. 

The skies rumble, shake with his rage. 

When they get through this, he thinks, he is going to stab Wolf again.   

He rains lightning down to stun the demon in its steps, and Wolf slashes at it. The demon shrieks, leaps into the air. 

Move!” Genichiro screams. 

It is too late. The demon crashes down onto Wolf, blasts the area with flames. 

He knows Wolf has died again. 

He knows Wolf will rise again from the ashes. He can only give the shinobi time to move. 

Another arrow, this time laced with lightning. And then another. He dives close with his blade - 

and Wolf is up again, and he is close enough to see how his chest heaves, how he drops his sword - 

A shinobi would never drop his sword.

Wolf tears at the demon with his hands and teeth. Rends flesh apart under his fingers.

The demon gives a cry. Swats at Wolf, who clings on like a tick on a horse and does not let go. Like a tick, he clings on and laps at spilt blood.

Genichiro wonders if it will be two demons he will kill today. 

 

Hungry. Hungry. 

The world is bright and hot. The world is loud. So much screaming, so much noise. 

He is so hungry. 

The beast beneath his hands is big, but it is not good eating, blood tasting already of stagnation and rot. There is movement beside him, and then the beast is screaming again, and falling. 

Wolf leaps from it and lands on the ground on all fours. Looks up to find the other man standing before him, his blade at his throat. 

He remembers this man. He has fought him before. Has lost to him before.

Genichiro.

He remembers this name, even if he cannot remember what it means.

The man smells of thunderstorms and ash. He smells like strength, and power. Wolf wants.

"Genichiro," he croaks. The blade leaves his throat while the man regards him with dark eyes.

Wolf makes a noise, reaches up.

Genichiro lets him, instead of cutting him down.

Wolf clings to his neck. Breathes in the smell of rain. Feels the man shake underneath him.

"Please," Wolf breathes.

He sinks his teeth in. 

The man stills, and Wolf prepares to be flung off.

He will not let go. Genichiro tastes divine, like Dragonspring sake to muddy water compared to the other men. He will not let go. Genichiro will have to kill him first.

Then Genichiro goes limp under him. Strokes his hair with large hands, soothes him with soft words even as Wolf gnaws at his flesh. 

Wolf feels safe. 

 

Wolf sinks his teeth into Genichiro's flesh. Buries his nose into Genichiro's throat. Laps up the mess, makes soft crooning noises as he does.

There is pain, but Genichiro can has long grown used to ignoring pain.

Wolf has destroyed Ashina's enemies. Wolf will feed on Ashina unless fed.

Offering himself is the least Genichiro can do.

He is conscious for it all. The Waters heal him, but slowly, sluggishly, as though they know that Wolf must take his fill first. 

Wolf claws and claws at life and Genichiro lets him. Plots and schemes as he feels his blood spill with every heartbeat.

Wolf is a demon. But it will not be difficult to make him his demon.

 

Eventually, Wolf comes to himself.

"Better?" Genhichiro asks, folding his robe over and tightening his sash, as though he is not covered in wounds caused by Wolf. Wolf blinks at him, surprised at the gentleness of the question.

"Yes," he says, rubbing at his skin, as though it will take the stain of the blood off him. It does not. He will have to soak for hours to remove all of this, scrub his skin raw. He is painted with the blood of a demon, of soldiers, of the inhuman beings of the Fountainhead Palace. It feels like he has years of deaths caked onto him.

He catches Genichiro looking at him as though he were a favoured dog, or a well-honed weapon.

He finds he does not dislike it.

"Good," Genichiro says. "Now, Wolf." Wolf feels his gut tighten at the way Genichiro looks at him. "If you want me to feed you, you will do a thing for me." 

"If I say no?" 

"Then the next person you attack will likely be your precious master." 

It is true. The demon in his skin will seek Kuro out. 

"What is it?" he asks sullenly. At least, it is not a promise. 

"Destroy the Ministry.”

Notes:

I needed Isshin to go out fighting it wouldn't be fair otherwise.