When the first droplets of rain chinked off the window’s wooden frame and a litany of footsteps scurried over the trembling hatch door, Riku roused from his reverie with a soft sigh. Cold biting at his fingertips swept across his goosebump-riddled neck and down the front of his clothes where it curled against his navel, eliciting a full-bodied shiver just as the hatch wrenched open allowing a wave of cold air to stir the lantern hanging off a hook embedded in the beam by his head.

Murmuring voices grew into a racket of exclamations and jeering as man after man lumbered down the rotten wood ladder. Riku sighed, making a mental note to find a carpenter when they dock next. It would at least give off the airs of this being a fishing ship prone to long bouts of voyaging, rather than what they truly were.

Drawing his arms close to him, knee tucked to his chest, Riku watched as some who were spared the worst of the coming downpour shook water from their greasy hair and brushed rope-burned hands along patched breeches.

The last few weeks hadn’t been kind in way of travel and though his own skills were needed frequently, he was better off than the others. Few made an awful din about the disparity in wounds between them, but he cited his skill and ability to get out of the way for the lesser damage he took. Besides, no one could argue with him too much. He was far more useful to them present and in tact than tossed overboard. A wise decision, he thought while their curses filled the cabin, bemoaning the sudden downpour. The tapping against the window’s glass heightened from a pitter-patter to sprinkling. Splattered droplets blurred his view of the roiling sea, great beams of seafoam, white and burbling crashed against the ship, uncaring of the hull’s moan.

Another shiver creased up Riku’s back as he lowered his legs, heels pressed against the crates he’d been shuffling upon for the last half hour. Most of the crew sat upon long benches pressed closely to the lengths of mismatched wooden tables, some circular and others rectangular. Yet some unable to find spots took up other means, snatching stools and crates to gather around the cabin’s nooks and crannies. Huddled close together as they talked amongst themselves or played games, passing canteens and pouches.

Crisp, herbal scents and watered-down alcohol burned his nose hairs and he waved off an offer from one of the men to join in playing cards. His heels snapped against wooden floorboards, long-lost in their lustre and only shining from the fresh coat of rain tracked in from the last of the water-logged deckhands unable to escape the downpour. Dirt gritted beneath Riku’s boots and he tried not to grimace as he set one hand on a ladder rung, hoisting himself up to climb up its dampened steps.

Someone crowed from behind in a shrill, panicked tone, “You’re going out in that!?”

Riku swung around, slanting a glance over his shoulder. With one hand curled around a rung, and one foot pressed upon another, he half-dangled off the ladder and swept a glance over the room. The man addressing him was shivering, stripped down to his small clothes with a tattered blanket wrapped around his lanky frame. At his side, a barrel-chested man slung down a pack of salted meat hard enough for the table to shudder, then he lifted his tankard to his mouth hidden in the overgrowth of a tangled black beard.

“You’ll get sick out there, pretty boy,” the barrel-chested pirate said, tipping his tankard toward him. A slick sheen of shōchū coating its chipped wooden lip matching the glassy glaze over his eyes. “And if you’re not manning the keep, then who is going to point us towards land?” His voice rose with each word drawing attention from a few of the neighboring tables, conversations laid to the wayside or tapering off as others poked and prodded to gather their mates’ attention.

Riku resisted the urge to frown, pretending to shift his weight to keep from falling. When he looked up, the pirate slapped his hand against the deckhand’s trembling shoulder almost sending him hurtling onto another man’s lap. A noise of disgust pushing him up to scrambling then shying back as the pirate growled out,“Or kill off those damned beasts chasing us across the sea?”

Ah, so that is what this was all about. He couldn’t say he was surprised when a scraggly flock of harpies attacked the ship. With the coming storm and howling winds, noise traveled just as quickly as scent did and seeing as most of the men on the ship hadn’t bathed in weeks, the harpies had a fresh trail of food to follow before the storm washed it clean.

He’d beckoned the captain to steer into the storm sooner but several of the older hands wagged their tongues, stating he’d drag them down to the bottom of the ocean. Some mutters that he intentionally wanted their demise left hanging in the air.

As far as Riku was concerned - he’d done all he could for the fools. Still, remembering how panicked they were in the heat of battle brought a smile to his face. When some of their crew were seized by the harpies’ claws and carried off into the sky. It took a great deal of patience to shoot down the human-like appendages and fishing the pirates from the water, only to hear their blubbering thanks was tiring.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing,” Riku said, head tipped back and smile coquettish as he lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I was only thinking that if I were to be indisposed, you’ll actually have to get up and do something for once.”

Peals of jeering laughter belted out from the voyeurs as he gave the red-faced man a jaunty salute then clambered up the ladder, letting the sputtered insults roll off his back. Water sprayed in his face with each failed attempt to open the hatch and Riku welcomed the cool touch in comparison to how muggy the cabin was becoming. With one last shave, the hatch flung open and a wall of rain descended upon his head. Irritated and worried shouts followed him out where the downpour left the deck covered in a shallow pool. His laughter drowned out his cremates’ blustering and once he grabbed the hatch’s rusted iron handle, he slammed it shut with an echoing finality.

Then, all he could hear was the storm.

⎈

“When the heavens part and the gods’ tears fall, the skies, land and sea shall tremble. Follow the lightning’s arc marking his path. If you cannot see it, then listen for the thunder, and know it is your father coming home.”

Riku’s eyes struggled to remain open as those words washed over him. Gentle fingers sculpted errant paths through his hair, painting tender strokes over the curved shell of his ears then down his back before returning anew. A warm, smoky voice repeated the beautiful spell and almost successfully lulled him into sleep with a soft humming tune.

Another boom of thunder rattled the pergola’s lattice and shattered the silence with its distant echo, snatching him from sleep’s clutches as his eyes flew open.

Struggling against the tangle of blankets he’d been entrapped in, Riku gave a few startled yelps while trying to bob his head free of their colorful patterns. Barely able to peek over the hem of one at the weeping sky, veiled in knotted grey clouds scarcely outlined by arcs of blindingly white lightning. He rubbed his eyes feverishly and tugged at his bindings, twisting in a spiral when they were pulled loose with one fluid snap. Landing on a nest of red skirts, he rubbed his cheek against the threads which felt cool against his heated skin.

Then, he recalled why he’d left his blanket cocoon and scrambled up to his feet, hurrying to the edge of the pavilion then throwing his arms around the rain-soaked post. His soaked sleeves brushed uncomfortably against his wrists but he remained glued to the post. A thought crossed his mind and he tipped his chin til it brushed against his right shoulder, unwilling to tear his eyes from the sky.

“Hahaue, does it only rain when the gods are crying?” Riku asked, sparing a quick glance at the woman cleaning up their nest of blankets and texts. The sepia skylight filling the space between the lattice’s interlocking boards tinged her glossy, dark hair with dusky blue shimmers. Her back to him as she thumbed through a thin, careworn book. Her hum buzzed contemplatively joining the air’s thickening humidity and upside-down rain, bouncing off the stone steps.

“No,” she began. When her answers began one-worded, he knew that they were never so simple and waited to hear the rest after she gathered her thoughts. Straining his ears for the thunder’s clap somewhere among the rain’s susurrus, he heard her inhale then flicked a glance in her direction. “Sometimes, it rains when someone has passed or when they mourn their loved one. I’ve heard stories of rainfall when a child is born or when a being of great power clashes with another equal to their might.”

Riku sighed in awe, turning his attention back to the skies. He blinked away beads of rain rolling down his cheeks,clammy fingers rubbed beneath his eyes. Water splattered against his neck dribbled down his chin then pooled around his navel making him twitch uncomfortably.

From behind, he heard his mother’s quiet sigh. “Come here, Riku. You’ll soak yourself through standing there.”

“I’m alright,” he countered, lifting his chin imperiously. “A demon does not fear illness, hahaue.”

He’d heard the phrase spoken by his father’s underlings and it never failed to make his mother laugh when he said it. Haughtily and pointedly, like the young lord he had to be outside of their home. But her laughter melted away the facade and he peeked over his shoulder a little,smiling when she smiled too. He thought it was ridiculous, behaving in such a way was nothing short of tiresome and they had better uses for their energy. However, the world had demands, but as his mother reminded when she returned from her travels - the world held no place here.

Another flash of lightning wrenched Riku’s focus back to the sky but this one showed him something different. It was as if a white sun had been lit behind the clouds leaving the sky colored a ghostly pale hue. His eyes watered at the sight while his heart thudded with delight at the sound of thunderous booms like a deer’s galloping hooves. Searching, he only found pieces — a backwards curved horn with three antlers, scales carved out of radiant columns of lightning undulating around a body enveloped in flames leaving glowing motes of light in its wake like stars. Its tail’s plume was wreathed in fire, batting the clouds into misty sleets of sizzling rain as the heavens opened with every step it took across the skies.

Riku could feel his mother behind him, her arms enveloped him but he couldn’t look away until the beast disappeared into the storm.

“Riku, breathe.”

At her instruction, he opened his mouth and urged his chest to fill. A sweet pungent taste curled on his tongue as ozone and petrichor slipped down his throat on every gulp. He could taste shards of lightning sparking as they rolled down his throat with the acrid bitterness of rain, and his mother’s pipe expelling the sweet scent of hōzuchi. His chest ballooned. Scents and tastes mingled together until his head swam, thoughts fuzzing at the edges like when his father toweled his hair dry after a deep soak in the springs near their home.

Somewhere, his mother’s voice funneled in his ears, soft yet stern in its command as she said, “Now, exhale..”

As if a plug was pulled from the bath, his chest gradually deflated as all he breathed in came spilling past his lips. His nose wrinkled and he coughed. Her hand flattened against his back as she gave a few light thumps, helping him through the worst of his hacking. Turning away from the storm, Riku threw his arms around her neck and felt the beads of her necklace press against his cheek as she hugged him close. It only dawned on him when his feet no longer touched the ground that she was carrying him against her, and his own wet clothes would dampen hers.

“I can walk, hahaue..” Riku cried, wriggling in her grasp but she only shifted her hold on him, cupping the back of his head with another arm tucked beneath his knees.

“I know,” she chided gently. “But you’ll trail water all over.”

Giving in to her point, Riku settled in her arms until she guided him to the centre of the pavilion where a small table was set. Her pipe resting on its holster, its golden tip winking at him with another faint flash of lightning. Slipping out of her grasp and onto a few towels, he lifted his arms to let her help him out of his layers.Shivering and hugging himself once his upper half was bare, she set a towel around his shoulders warmed from where it sat next to a steaming tea pot on the table. Decorated with colorful hounds chasing after their tails around its girth, the same as the playful dogs on the cups and saucers.

He sniffed the air then tweaked his nose, frowning at the grinning hound. “Hahaue, it smells weird.”

His mother paused as she gathered up the wet cloths, her dark eyes flicking between him and the tea pot with a dawning look of understanding. “It’s a new blend your chichiue brought back from his travels,” she explained, whisking the clothes away to where she laid them over one of the railings to drip stiffly dry.

At the mention of his father, Riku perked up. It’d been several weeks since he’d last seen him and any mention of him only made him yearn just a little more. “May I try it?” He asked.

The clothes slapping against the wood didn’t drown out his mother’s quiet laughter. “Well.. I’m not sure if you would like it, it can be rather bitter and customarily, you aren’t supposed to drink milk or sugar with it.”

Riku squinted, turning a scrupulous gaze upon the pot. “Has chichiue drank it?”

“Mhm..” He didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling in that secretive way she seldom did. “But you know how your chichiue is, his tastes can be different.”

While his mother said different, Riku heard maturer. His father was praised endlessly for his wisdom and bravery but it was the daring nature he took with him in every expedition into the unknown that made him a hero in Riku’s eyes.

“I’ll drink it too,” he said to her sternly, and so she would know he was serious, he puffed his chest and squared his shoulders. He may not have had his father’s height nor his build, but he was still his son.

His mother stared at him silently then sighed, gracefully sinking down onto her knees. Her dark hair flourishing around her as she pulled it free from the collar of her starch white kosode, setting hands on the pot to lift, then pour the strange-smelling liquid into one of the cups. Riku’s nose wrinkled at the sight of it. It was a dark, steaming stream filling his ears with a hissing trickling noise as it sloshed around the cup’s insides then came to rest just shy of its lip. His mother set down the pot then palmed the cup’s sides. Riku’s heart jolted in his throat at the sight of steam rising, flicking worried glances between her pale hands beginning to tint pink from the heat.

With her attention away from him, he snuck a hand behind him and coaxed the wind to bend to his palm. He’d been practicing for months and was certain he could do it. But just as a cool breeze curled around his fingertips, the storm raged and thunder flashed. A gust shot past them, knocking over the stack of books his mother piled together and dragging the pot along with the other saucers across the table. Riku gasped and reached out for them while his mother abandoned the cup she held, pulling him close while it tipped on its side. The dark liquid began to bead along its rim and its steam reached for her while she shielded him.

Though before it could touch either of them, a hand grasped the cup by its sides then tilted it upright. The winds died down and Riku’s tight hold on his mother’s midsection eased. He peered up from beneath the safety of her red-stitched sleeves, gasping when he laid eyes on the underside of a mask lined with jagged bone teeth. The face of a man beneath it, his lips unsmiling while a single emerald green eye gazed down upon him from an opening in the mask’s face. The thunder quieted as the man’s lips parted, and the storm receded as if in fear of what he would say.

In a calm, cool voice, the man asked, “What have I told you about commanding the wind while in a storm, Riku?”

His mother’s arms eased around him and he worried that she would leave him to his scolding but her reddened palm cupped his cheek, unfamiliar warmth radiating from her skin reminding him of why he’d done it. “Only when it’s important,” Riku recited from memory, flicking a glance up at his mother who smiled down upon him, coaxing the next words easily from his lips. “Like protecting hahaue.”

The man breathed in deeply, and Riku felt the pull of the wind directed toward him as if it could not wait to welcome him into its embrace. His eye slipped shut - that piercing green gaze hidden and the thunder felt it safe to boom while the winds carefully howled.

“You told him that, my lord?” His mother asked, with a soft chuckle. “And you returned so quickly, did you truly think a cup of hot tea could harm me?”

Now that Riku considered it, the thought of tea proving a threat to her was funny. Even for a human, his mother was stronger than most. He’d seen her turn back the attacks of the four lieutenants in his father’s army as she earned their begrudging respect through martial prowess.

Fire, nor water, nor poison or illusion could bring her to her knees and he knew his father was aware of this. Silently still, he regarded her from the other side of the table. His tall stature imposing and looming over them, but she did not shy away.

The only sign that they were having a conversation he was not privy to was in the smaller details. How his mother’s brow raised, and his father’s lips thinned. One of her arms unfurled from around Riku while the other kept him close. Her offered palm held upright over the cup, the steam breaking its thin steady stream when coming in contact with her hand. An unmovable force no matter what.

Finally, his father was the one to concede. He turned in a sharp snap on his heel and walked along the table’s curve to her side. Bending a knee to her as she turned her attention to him, blocking Riku’s view of what little of his father’s face he could see. He strained to look past her but when the sound of clattering bone touched his ears, he froze. His father’s mask was carried through the air on the flat of his mother’s fingers, then laid to rest on the tabletop. Transfixed, Riku stared at it while his mother’s hand slipped away. He’d seen this happen time and time again - or at least the motions of it.

He would kneel for her, and she would slip his mask away.

A privilege not even Riku’s aunt was allowed.

Then with the same care his mother gave him, she would cup his father’s cheek and Riku would peek from his hiding place. In awe, embarrassed, and warmed by the sight of his father’s closed eye. His usual stoic expression melted into a softened one, not smiling but not upset either. He seemed at peace this close to her, the violet of his claws slipping into dark tresses combing through them as they flowed across his tanned skin like rivulets of dark water.

“Midoriko,” whispered against the crown of her head and the thunder answered with a rumble while the winds blew that much softer. As if the storm was at peace now that his father returned - or perhaps because his mother was there to soothe him. Riku shied backward when his father’s eye fluttered open then leveled at him. Hiding behind his mother’s back, he only had precious seconds of cover before he felt a light touch against the back of his head.

Peeking up at his father’s face, the slow curl of a smile all the permission he needed to wedge himself between them. His mother laughed and shifted slightly while his father sat down, cross-legged and drew her in his lap much to her feigned displeasure. Riku perched himself on his father’s thigh and twisted around, rocking his upper half backward to lie in his mother’s lap. He could feel the warmth in his mother’s touch as she swept her thumb beneath his eye, and the lightning coursing beneath his father’s skin in every sparking touch against the top of his head.

“Listen closely, Riku,” his father said, his voice a low rumble of thunder as he smoothed a thumb across his forehead. The motion so soothing that he felt himself drifting off while the daiyōkai spoke above him, like lightning parting the clouded haze rolling over his mind. “When you care for someone, no matter how capable they are, you must do your best to protect them.”

His mother’s laughter was like soft, tinkling rain dripping against wind chimes. “That sounds like something Tōga would say." His father grunted, but she pressed on. "Is that why you came back so quickly, to protect me?”

Riku felt himself smiling, cracking his eyes open enough to see them looking at one another. Though his father’s fringe covered part of the right side of his face, his smile was in plain sight. His mother returning it with one of her own as she tipped her head up, his father’s claws threaded through her hair while he cradled her cheek, tucking the locks behind her ear. At the last second as she leaned in, his father glanced at Riku then smirked, covering his eyes with his palm.

“You’re too young for that, Riku,’ his father said over his groan of dismay. His mother’s laughter trailing off with the familiar buzz of their energy colliding then twisting together. A static warming the air as it often did when they were near one another. Holding hands, locking eyes, crossing blades or stealing a kiss.

Eventually, Riku eased his scrabbling over his father’s hand and resigned himself to the cool darkness provided by it. With the two of them together speaking softly over his head and the rainfall, he gradually drifted into sleep —

Safe and warm.

⎈

“Gahaha!” Sharp, guffawing laughter shattered the perpetual calm Riku sank into. Tripping back into reality, he nearly slipped over his own feet as a powerful hand clapped against his shoulder blade sending him also reeling head over shoulders. Straightening up, he blinked away the rain rolling down his face. Dragging a hand through his rainwater-drenched hair to peer back at the captain, blooming red staining his tanned skin though whether from the alcohol wafting off him or the cold - Riku wasn’t sure.

The captain grinned, baring rows of crooked yellow teeth. “Sailing straight into that storm would’ve drowned us then, but it’s surely gotten those damned birds off our trail now, ah?” He jammed his fists against his wide-set hips, marching on with sure steps despite the deck’s slippery boards.

His confidence was one of the many reasons Riku liked his crew. Pirates were like sharks, when they smelled blood in the water, they were quick to attack. It was much easier being in the employ of someone who could carry their own weight and strike while the iron was hot. Thankfully, he wasn’t too brazen or else this motley crew would’ve eaten itself alive like a pack of wild dogs. The thought had him chuckling, ignoring the wet cling of his clothes as he followed him toward the bow where the waves crashed violently, sending sprays of white sea foam across the skies.

Miles and miles of water stretched out before them, roiling and churning, but within hours they’d be clear of the storm and headed to the mainland. The captain dragged his hand along the underside of his nose then tucked his arms to his chest, palms pressed flat against his sides. “Shame a man has to prefer the rain to the dry, but stuck with those idiots for too long and you’ll start to smell like a bad cask.”

Riku chuckled, leaning against the railing. “Eager to set foot on land, captain?”

“Like a dog gnawing on a bone,” the captain spat, wagging a finger at him. “An’ don’t you go pretendin’ that you ain’t, boy. Known you long enough to call you my own, and been sailin’ long enough to know when a man has somethin’ on his mind. Come off it.”

Riku tapped his heel against the wall, stewing in his silence as he listened to the distant roar of thunder. “… I was thinking of my mother.”

There was a loud creaking groan from the ship’s hull that followed his words and he wondered if the sea were going to swallow them whole. After she’d gone, it felt as if the world was all wrong. The seas raged, the skies wept, and the land trembled — quelled when the Beast King of the East finally felt into a deep slumber to where his grief could be lost in dream. But he hadn’t expected the captain to know of that so when the man laughed, he didn’t take it offensively.

“I know you try not to let the men in on your business, but you don’t have to go lyin’ to me,'' his eyes glimmered as he shot him a grin. “Got a girl waitin’ for you in the harbor?”

Riku scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh? Then in one of the little hovels you get off to when we dock?” The captain rubbed his chin, thinking it over.

Unwilling to let his inquiry to get too deep, Riku threw up his hands. “Okay, okay, you caught me. There may be someone.”

“Aha!” The captain’s grin turned mawkish as he rounded on Riku with all the grace of a starved dog circling its scraps. Riku arched a brow then rolled his eyes. “Wh— You’re not going to tell?”

“Of course not, I’m a gentleman.”

And he’d seen how they’d spoken of women and on the occasion, men. Never would he allow someone to speak of her in such a debauched manner. Although he knew she could have beaten any of these men with or without her abilities. His lips curled lazily. Though their paths had yet to cross, he could imagine silver hair dancing mid-movement as she swept her arms beneath her opponent then threw them down without a second thought. She was certainly strong, fierce some, though her humanity reared its head at the last second. They wouldn’t be harmed enough to warrant a mercy killing but they’d know better than to tangle with her.

And heavens, she would have been lovely. Magenta eyes filled with pleasure at her own strength flicked over to meet him. Would she have smiled or looked away in awe when another shaft of lightning lit up the sky? She always seemed happiest out in nature, running care freely despite the make of her strange clothing. Looking out over the sea, he wondered what it would have been like to show her how he could bend the water to his will. She was determined to do so many things on her own - and if she absorbed his energy, would she command the water as well?

What would it have been like to take her hand and sink into the sea, away from the land, beneath the stormy sky?

“Gentlemen don’t get lost in their thoughts like that,” the captain interjected, dissolving the thought of her. “And if you’ve forgotten, we’re pirates!”

Riku snorted, covering his mouth with his hand as he laughed. “You’re right, however..” He pulled his shoulders back, letting his elbows rest against the railing as he leaned against it and stared up at the sky. “That means I have to keep her memories close more than anything. They’re my treasure…”

Her smile nestled close to his heart and he could understand his father’s words. Another flash of lightning lit up the clouds and when Riku glanced up, he could have sworn he’d seen a kirin galloping across the clouds' silver lining.