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Angry clouds cracked the running sky in a striking formation, accompanied with leaves from fallen trees dancing in a line of muted colours, contrasting of orange and greens. The temperature below exceeds to the point similar to an open stove, leaving untreated wounds of supernatural threads coming to unravel.
His hands melt under the sweat of pressure, and his body beginning to appear signs of crumbling under this extensive heat.
Oh, how he hates these misfortunes piling on top of each other.
Not to mention the tree barks had long released the rest of scorching whiff that took off his lungs—each breath felt like his heart entirely stops working.
He gives to that had he never felt this suffocating before.
His eyes moved towards the woman far placed from his direction. She has long fell unconscious over the sight of her dead husband, whereas the person physically replaced to that of unidentified mass of flesh with its mouth stretched down to its cheeks. Its height was now the size of a small mountain, enough to swallow 5 whole yakitori stands. Its breath smells in a mixture grass and wet dirt, creating a repulsive mud-like stench from where it stands –covering almost of his whole surroundings.
Nuppeppo has been identified; He has been granted its Truth, being of the spouse’s untimely end. Though the woman’s involvement in Regret is questionable even when he had pressed her into confession.
But grudges and strong emotions come in different ways. Even if she was or wasn’t involved with its creation wouldn’t matter nonetheless, for the Mononoke has found its way to crawl out into the world. Quite troubling indeed, he dolefully mumbles.
The ofudas he placed on the ground moments prior burnt down the more the Mononoke’s miasma seeps in closer from his liking. His sense further unfocused, and if this delays further, it will be a great disaster and more casualties left under its wake.
“I shall put you to rest. As all it is, Mononoke cannot stay in this world. “
He raises his hands upwards; the end of kimono sleeves flap in a similar motion of a butterfly. Nuppeppo’s wild eyes pierced to the vibrant figure that was his.
The Taima sword hovers above him as he declared, "With Form, Truth and Reason…!"
A large hand launches at him,
And he wasn’t quick to evade it—!
It lunges itself towards his waist, breaking a couple of his bones and caused him to gasp in pain. He’s unable to squeeze himself out as his hands were interlocked to the air from its clutch. The eyes of sea blue widen as Nuppeppo’s mouth creeping in closer as its face curved into a twisting smile.
Frantically, he released the sheath just as the plumped hand throws him up into the air. The dimmed sky closes in on itself further and a loud thunder clapping sound came after, silencing everything and envelops him whole.
---..---..----.
The reflection of his face above the water ripples with the immediate stop of all-colourful spiral landmarks around him. His vision gradually fades as his body submerged from the bottom of the tide that changes to that of his whole body carefully hovering down above the sky. His footing sensed the sharpness of dirt beneath just as he regains his momentum.
His head processed the river of memories flooding through from his other—
Before the rest of it stops halfway through.
… What?
He opened his eyes and was met with charred fields of the land he’s standing on.
A cold sensation waves through his body. Something doesn’t feel right. Even when he’s adjusted to the surroundings, the gut-wrenching feeling still resides.
Twirling one arm to his view, his whole body weren’t fully materializing to this world, revealing almost transparent skin underneath the gold markings. His mind almost close to none with his purpose remains undeterred from fragmented information given.
Unable to sense imminent danger he calls out to Taima sword, and a familiar resounding clink ringing afterwards. His eyes tilts to see it lying on the ground. A slight twitch when he realizes its blade hasn’t yet fully unsheathe.
He is quick to find his missing wielder and prevents from using markings as he further not brings other complications.
He tilts his head more to his right and saw his wielder; right when their whole body disappeared off to the dark. Their eyes met, and he couldn’t shake off the brief contact from the fearful glint of the blue as the sky closing it on itself with a loud clacking teeth. Lifting his head further it wasn't a sky at all, but instead the Mononoke – Nuppeppo. Its faced-flesh looking down on him, and its mouth watered with its own saliva. The plumped body swaying slightly from above the current of winds; and his wielder’s presence has fallen into its mouth.
His breath shakes from the rush of cold air—or was it from that realization? —And the lustful white hair drags on behind of the circulating winds. His inner thoughts blank from what he had to process.
His wielder was taken away.
He was taken away.
The Mononoke devoured him.
There was a pulse.
His eyes fell to the ground and a hitched breath escapes from his mouth.
There was a pulse.
The Mononoke hovers above him with its face covering in shadows. It lets out a rumble that shakes its entire surroundings.
There was no exchange between them—his mind blindly read it as it mocks him for his vulnerability.
There was a pulse.
A tug is being pulled somewhere from within his chest to the direction of Nuppeppo, and it will be long until the tug grows weaker until there was nothing left to pull to.
He grinds his teeth together. His temple throbs the more of the air surrounds him turning harder to swallow.
…There was a pulse.
The clattering sound when its teeth click thrums right by his ear, attempting to bring him back to focus and as the Mononoke’s hand is lunging towards its next meal—
Amidst the rumbling, he yells.
His lungs flared from the inside as he immediately climbs up to the large hand that reaches him.
His temple couldn’t stop throbbing as the adrenaline pumped through his veins tenfold, he feels like he’s about to explode.
He’s running up beyond the limits he could reach and hasn’t known to achieve. Amidst the running, he uses the sharpest tool he has to desperately clamping to each of the Mononoke’s flesh as he climbs yet further from where he was under. He ran to the very centre point of its rough belly, where the pulling feeling was strong on.
As he reached towards the abdomen of the large creature, he opens his mouth and unable to control his next movements.
His teeth pierced to the plumped flesh as he tears it,
—and he begins to consume.
The Mononoke shrieks in pain, and its poking holes sputters out waves amount of black-coloured blood thicker than a squid ink, releasing more of the putrid smell of something long rotten; yet it wasn't big enough.
No, it wasn’t large enough, he twitches.
It is not enough.
He wipes off the excess fluid that had covered his face and continues to pull apart with all his might, tearing off the flesh with his incisors. He rips off the boneless flesh and spat it out under the ground, and repeats the cycle. The rest of discarded tissue spasm for a while before slowly limping and dissolve right after it was detached from its main body.
Still, it proves to be challenging. The soft flesh keeps regenerating the spot, making only a small progress. It won’t matter, as he continues to remove the excess flesh to make way for a big hole into its belly.
Not until it finally slows down and creates a large enough to enter inside—
No, not until everything eradicates from this mortal realm.
The Mononoke tries to retaliate his attempts by trashing itself around, endlessly resounding wails of agony, wriggling itself to throw him from prying its body further.
But he's resilient. He retains onto its position and his talon-like nails didn’t show any signs of letting go. He continues to gnaw his teeth into the already-closing hole, digging more to its surface.
Simply put, it was too late for the Mononoke to pry him off now.
The Mononoke doubles out its cries, but the man’s uproar runs deeper into the stormy sky.
---..---..----.
He clenches his fist from his side,
Tighten it, and release.
Yet he wasn’t able to feel anything.
Again, he tries it once more.
Tighten it,
—and release.
…
It’s no use, he chuckles in self-pity.
In an instant he’s no longer be able to move both of his limbs as his body continues to drift aimlessly through the sea of void.
Aside that there were strings of smokes trailing out of parts of his body like a silk made out of widow’s web. The longer he remains in its domain, the Mononoke will continue to corrode the rest of his spirits until nothing was left of him.
He lets out a small breath. Everything will eventually end up like this, he murmurs meekly to himself. Soon they will be notified of his end progress, and they will send out another Medicine Seller to the scene.
His manpower wasn’t enough to make this one disappears. Perhaps, he wasn’t the one to blame and it’s painfully obvious the Mononoke already had gained an upper-hand in this battle. What a troublesome monster.
In the end, he accepted of this fate; his sympathy towards human life long absent from the long vassal expiration of his body, leaving a husk of what once was his formal self; a walking anomaly, he admitted. He promised himself he'll dedicate his life to this line of duty, hoping to get an ounce of meaning to his purpose of living.
However, not anything fulfils him from the void that was already been there to begin with, or maybe he’s being difficult of a person to be satisfied, let alone a human.
Well, a former human he was.
Not anything – never had anything – makes himself better nor had fulfil him any amount to fullest. On the other hand, his mind wanders to the fate of his other half—
Shingi.
Everything stopped.
…
He remembers unsheathing the sword and was interrupted by its sudden approach. He didn't remember if his Other has been unleashed or not by the time it swallowed him. Well, considering that he’s currently here and weren’t there, the ritual might’ve had failed.
Well. It doesn't matter anymore. The ordeal is done, and Shingi failed to be assimilated, thus his mission will be assigned over to the other Medicine Seller.
…
…
Maybe they would have a small remainder of him; a grave of sort perhaps. Or is it not their thing to put a Stonehenge in the garden parts of Juuyoku?
He already has his own obituary written off in his mind:
--Here lies RI wielder, fallen by a lump of unmoving flesh.
Shingi of RI wasn’t able to be released, thus ending the line of his duty.
The Four Symbols already expressed their gratitude of his service, and Taikyoku-Sama are proud of his achievements, wishing for his safety in his next reincarnation. --
Needless to say, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
…
…
He would love to do something to kill the time, but struggling is futile.
Drifting through empty darkness doesn’t incur any fight-or-flight response to him. Instead, it brings him this strange feeling of serenity. If humans weren’t that fragile in their heart, they would be able to pass on without any of the ridiculous grudge that could shape into Mononoke, he berates the complaint to himself at this point.
It quite reminds him every time he swapped in places with Shingi, although, the space he has to stay on should be in that same vivid blue colour of his eye.
The same blue hue of the collective space that glows brighter when they intertwined.
Those hands that warmly touched over his…
Oh, how he’s starting to already longing for that feeling, even for a bit...
…
—He couldn’t help it.
… What would Shingi think about this? His mind drastically moves on to the next wave of confusion and distress. He’s still getting the hand into maternal relationship with the ordeal of everything, virtue if it really was. Will he become sorrowful just as he dies?
Can a Divine Being able to feel grief of their Otherself's death? Although they were a different being out of realm – he couldn’t help but to ponder if the Other is able to mourn the death of his human counterpart.
His heart suffocates from the sudden intrusion. The clouded emotions he’d blatantly ignore from other thoughts resurfaced and filling his mind with a gut-wrenching reality of dread the more he leans towards it.
It would be inconvenient to have a Divine Being turns gloom for his previous wielder failure. Alas, they would eventually be entrusted to a better medicine seller after him, wishing for the next one to finish the job for him, no matter how many years it would take.
And he couldn’t do anything of that.
He’s unable to do anything of that.
Having unable to hold these emotions any longer, he bursts out a small laugh.
A pitiable laugh erupts in the space from a pitiable man.
"Ha....ha...."
There are so many things he would like to do. So many, yet less of a bother to do himself.
It might be due Shingi’s presence he had this second thought, and something in his heart blooms, and in a good way. That man had done something which caused him to crave more of their company with an aching pain without anywhere to release it. Even if his heart might’ve showered with the love that purposefully made to tether him to his duty and nothing more, it had already swollen full by the affection of that said being.
He almost could feel that the love might’ve been genuine.
He knows all that still leads to a null end; In fact, it’s endless. Not unless he chooses to venture to this route deeper.
But not right now. And it wouldn't even be anymore. There’s nothing he can do except to embrace his untimely demise. Maybe forever digested.
His lips quiver.
And his heart aches greatly.
His hands trembles from the running cold as his time is running out. The wisps have becoming thinner each second. Any moment now —but he knew, he doesn't want to die.
Not like this.
Not like this at all.
A sudden echo akin to something scraping against a wall caused him to flinch. It gradually turning more frantic before the empty space erupts by a flash of light. Its source blinds him before dims out and expands further throughout the domain. The strands of wisps smokes have stopped spreading out, and he feels his energy being revitalized. The darkness of the space was fully destroyed and making way for the shape of a familiar figure. One of his hands was pulled by theirs just as the shape outlines itself. The same odour becomes too much to bear and brought his awareness back to his surroundings more than ever.
He mutters out to the figure’s name with the bit of consciousness he has,
"Shingi."
He closed his eyes at last and covers himself in his own darkness.
---..---..----.
Throwing off his wielder high above the ground wasn't exactly an ideal move, but time is of essence, the Mononoke’s miasma might’ve already seeping into his brain by now.
As for the monster –
They had been taught as the Divine Instrument to lay down Mononoke to rest in a peaceable approach and a taboo to purify them with intention to kill.
What he did was almost the equivalent to it.
His methods of slaying this time - Was it a mercy kill? - would be the same to ending an innocent’s life, and he knows he had done the opposite to what his principles were taught to do, and it shows.
His hands, his hair and his chest were spattered with dangerous amount of black-gooey fluid as if he was dragging himself through a mud.
The Mononoke has been perished, but not by the sword. Instead, in the heat of a moment, he had overdone it.
But it didn’t matter to him. Right now, he embraces the man in his arms from the coldness of their surroundings after the monster had gone. Using the rest of his energy to focus on one centre of his body to keep him warm and alive; fully materializing to the point he had to kneel down from all the exhaustion of his life energy.
He’s alive, he mumbles. All of his ‘eyes’ went straight towards the unconscious man. All were pointed itself to him.
He’s alive.
He didn’t plan to let him go - he will not think of letting this one go.
Yet the man didn’t open his eyes.
It was at first he starting to became puzzled. Furrowing his brow, he gently shakes the man for any response.
In his mind he believes his wielder should be awake by now. Even a small movement of his body will wake him up right now.
Humans supposed to be awake in the aftermath of danger.
Why hasn’t he awoken—?
Wisps of colourful, bland smokes makes way for a silhouette appearing in front of him, hovering down from above of nowhere. A shadowed figure materializes into his view, garment in large white kimono robe. Their face fully hides behind the cloth embroidered with the YinYang symbol. The kimono droops down to the ground below, sweeping off the dirt as the figure swaying their move from each side.
He recognizes the identity of the person, yet evades his eyes from looking at theirs – no, he wasn't ready to face the figure, making a failed attempt to shield his wielder, causing himself to be vulnerable. Like a spotted wounded animal, he lowers down his head and stares off to his fallen wielder, finding comfort on facing him rather than to the one in front him.
After a long pause of eye-evading, he’s ready to understand their intention – putting down his wielder aside – his one hand stayed over his, still – and faces the figure in front of him. He bows to them and kneels in a polite manner of sitting.
Yet there’s still a part of him continuously rebelling on watching them even under obedience, symbolized by the writhing of the gold markings across his body, and his voice felt raspy underneath the lump of his throat. Something foreign feels stuck beneath the intersection across his neck.
"Taikyoku-Sama," He acknowledges the figure. It is a rare occurrence for the highest of Bagua to come down to the living realm, and he takes it as a bad omen of something approaching.
No, he must’ve done something to upset the balance – he, the Divine Being himself – that would bring them to come down here.
The edge of the kimono lightly lifts from the air that blows towards the front of their direction. The person didn't reply, instead taking more careful approach before stopping at a stagnant spot; a firm voice dies out the empty silence surrounding them.
"Return him to me." The figure lifts his one pallid hand to their view.
The edge of the man’s nails illuminates particles of light from the dead atmosphere, gathering around like fireflies dancing on a pond.
"He's breathing," His hand holds his wielder hand tighter, insisting to let go. "I beg you to reconsider,"
The body in turn trembles in reflex. There’s a sudden rise from his chest before it falls, giving a small relief for the man that there is still life within him.
He refuses to give in his wielder to the higher authority—assuming the latter predicted the worst and his person is going to be disposed of.
The worst is that he’s afraid he'll be discarded right here and there. He hates these thoughts to be the first to emerge.
"Return him to me." The man in white robe repeats.
“Please,” His voice trembles, “I plead of you—"
A spike of pain thrusts inside of him just as he was about to decline to the demand once more. A wave of nausea hit him and he pukes out large amount of black substance as he hunches down from force- similar to the ones the Mononoke have from inside of his guts, similar to the ones that he has on his bare hands. He lurches forward in pain and cough the rest of the liquid from inside of his body, shrivelling from the sudden temperature drop.
Cold.
…It’s cold…
…It’s cold…
He looks down to see the goo-like substance writhing out of his mouth, including some of the caked blood belonged to his. His body aches, and his chest heaving as he lifts his head for the air to enter through his lungs. Unfortunately, each breath he took instead felt suffocating than the last.
He lies down on the dirt beneath from the sudden weight of everything, and all parts of his body doubling its touch in pain. Even when his fingers turn numb, he still hasn’t yet to release his wielder’s hand.
He attempts to get back on one knee, yet his body still feels heavy on one side. He couldn't help but to stay fixated in that awkward position with his spine hunched in an uncomfortable position until he’s unable to bear it and fell down miserably—this time, he’s unable to wake up.
Cold liquid pooled out of his eye in excessive amount, clouding his vision in grey hue. It seemed it had already made its way through his head.
In his half-lidded view, the figure already sat in front of him, and their cold replaces the warmth of his temple, each hand covers him at his top head and the mid-section of his neck. Their voice echoes, directly speaking to him as it whispers in a steady hum,
"Rest."
The mountain of weight retreats with the rest of it still present, yet Shingi feels at peace. Nothingness draped his mind towards an endless lake of consciousness as his visions begin to distort. In-between the space of reality and the ocean of colourful spiral, the smell of charred grounds engulfs his nose, and the front of his face still damp with the black substance as it continues to break his insides.
There is a resounding footstep, but he already closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to open them up anymore.
He feels at peace.
Somewhere around the corner area, the figure has also retrieved the Taima sword; its mouth also stained with black ink, gurgling slightly with incomprehensible drowning sound of bell. Their tender hand sweeps through the dust off of its head, and they gently pressed down on the exposed short-end of its iron.
The blade has been safely secured.
---..---..----.
"Good, you're alive." A clear voice of a person stirs to his consciousness. He tilts his head to see someone’s face hidden behind a white cloth.
He stands up from the mattress he lays on, being cautious with it as he lets out a wince from the pain on the side of his back. He could feel the slight amount of pain of the cracked bones from the incident. A piece of damp towel on his forehead fell with a wet splat on the front of his blanket
He is now wearing plain green clothes; the usual garment of his blue kimono was fold and placed next to him. His long hair lets loose to his shoulders, leaving the messy ashen hair unkempt. It felt too dry to the touch.
Maybe another Medicine Seller has already been assigned to his spot and safely bring him back here, he ponders greatly, but still wonders how easily that person returns him to Ten Wings.
He must pay gratitude to that person soon afterwards.
How long has he been unconscious for?
He lifts his hand to his throbbing head, wondering to himself if he hit dead-on into a wall somewhere.
Although he had a hunch, he still asks the person in front of him just to be sure it wasn’t a dream.
"Where am I?"
The healer eases his question.
"Juuyoku. You're in the healing room." She squeezed the dampened towel as they put it into a basin with a small drip of splash. "You were expecting to follow suit."
He raises one eyebrow. "Pardon? To where?"
They didn’t speak of it further, as they had a hunch of his next direction. "You know your directions."
After the nurse finish tending to his available wounds and consider him good to go, he left the room. All of his equipment already been transferred to his quarter, including his medicine box. Several scales lining up across the pathway to each direction – some of the rest has to be purified before it could be delivered to his room, and for now everything is awfully quiet through the hallway leading towards their respective chambers.
Piecing together figments of memories he could gather, and was able to assess small of things, albeit there were gaps in certain of it- but it was enough for him to know. For now, he had something that's going on in his mind.
He adjusted his eyes once more and make his step along the pathway. His footsteps were the only sound that’s apparent through the empty hallways around quarters and onto the next, not until he finds himself in a familiar room. His eyes trail to the plate name above the framing door: “RI”.
Along the lines of shoji frame, row of talismans spreading through the door with one plastered in its middle. Its letterings and symbols scream in a straining red colour.
He narrowed his eyes and pries off each of the talisman away. Slowly, all the papers were lowered and peeled off from shoji, scrunched up and thrown to the floor.
He takes a deep breath and begins to open it. The door frame clatters as it’s fully slid off to its end.
The moment he stepped into the room, it wafts with the scent of sawdust and pomegranates.
A howl of cold breeze escapes its inside. At its centre was a figure sitting upright and leaning against a large pole placed in the room. One by one the candles lit up, brightening the whole darkness. The figure lifts its head sluggishly as if woken up from its slumber and gaze him with two muted red-yellowed pupils behind the veil of white cloth.
"You should be somewhere else." He was met with a resounding angry voice, reverberating inside the dim-lit interior.
Shingi has been attached in shackles that stretches all the way to the back, wrapping himself around the pole. Golden chains covering across his body, with each sharp end pinned down to each corner of the floor, puncturing small holes on the floorboards. Gold ofudas plastered inside of its gaps, with its purpose undoubtedly to strengthen the chains for apprehend the Divine Ritual from breaking it.
“This is my place to lie, so I’d expect to be greeted with a warm welcome.” He replies to the chained man, his response was still indifferent as usual. "Though I never thought divine beings were able to rebel against what they were meant for, acting prudent even," His eyes sharply narrows their striking opposite, still muted in red-yellowed from once bright colour he usually attuned to.
“What happened?”
"You did not want to die, so I took the initiative to not letting you die."
“…I did not request to be saved.” He denies the claim. “I fully accepted my death.”
“Your heart told otherwise.”
“You’re listening to the wrong heart.” Yet his eyes continue to speak lies.
“You’re deceiving yourself. You wouldn’t want to admit it too, didn’t you?”
He sighed, conceding to Shingi’s words.
He sits close to him, carefully lifts the veil covering the latter’s whole head. As the man’s face revealed, his eyes jump slightly. A nudge tingles at the back of his head, "…Something has changed."
As he pulls out the veil completely, he spots additional gold talismans plastering over his chest and some to his face in order to fasten the process – detain in his own room to release the rest of Mononoke's miasma from inside of his body.
It had already been in effect as the written words on the paper writhes in red. Yet, something’s bothering him.
Usually, it won’t take these many talismans to cleanse the negative energy out of Shingi—has he done something reckless that it puts his Divine Being in danger themselves?
Is that why Shingi detained like this? In order to make the restoration progress this time much quicker than it’s supposed to?
He couldn’t help but to think that all the blame were resulted of his.
His Shingi might’ve noticed his guilt, and stares at him with his eyes wavering in an assured motion. Yet, he known he hadn’t seen anything completely.
He realizes that Shingi has refused to speak of anything after he pulls out the cloth, so just for an assurance, he wants to dig further to the damage that has been done to him.
Of course, it is difficult to check the damage inflicted on his physical body for now.
Well, the strange streams of liquid trickles down their chin are quite new.
He peers closer to the confined being, bending more to the height of his eyes while slowly and gently covering his closed mouth from the cheeks– reluctantly, Shingi opens his mouth for him to inspect.
He hums as he inspects what he’s seen.
Rows of teeth are pooled with what seemed to be a strange dark colour paste to the brim, as if it was painted with ink. The upper row of the teeth dribbles off of the substance, and its liquid stretches out like a small pour of thick broth. Even when he kept his mouth shut now, the stain continues to stream down, making him somewhat drooling of the substance. Looking more to it, there’s a slight mix of his blood found in its compound as well, which couldn’t be good as he looks at it further.
He recognizes substance belonged to the Mononoke he fought and lose beforehand. He hadn’t yet known how everything had ended, but it had seemed the Mononoke left a scarring remark; which was to poison his Shingi’s bloodstream with its substance: though he still questions how it’d get to that point.
Though, he knew it would be a hassle for countless amount of purification – save for some time scrubbing it– to fully expel it from the system; especially to that from Divine Being. Well, depending on how integrated it was to the roots of his energy flowing within to dispel the effects.
It was a good thing that Shingi is now wearing a casual white robe opposed from His go-to gold kimono, making it easier to occasionally wipe the stain off when it reaches to the bottom of the floor. It was also kind of them to provide another pair that he-himself could wear in the meantime, and with the addition of prominent red-intricate patterns embroidered similar to the pattern on his blue kimono.
As he’s quite done with everything he saw, Shingi advices him the procedures of their condition as what had been told far by now.
The good thing is that they are allowed for an option for full-half decades of break until further notice from Four Symbols. Though in high regards, exorcism could still be done if situation requires the most, hopefully in only on small occasions.
After a long consideration, The Four Symbols instructs him to stay in the quarter to avoid its confluence spread to his wielder, while the latter might have to stay in either other wielder quarters or any unoccupied rooms; Not until its spreading was able to be reduced to a point it wouldn’t contaminate him.
In the meantime, his wielder was restricted from taking any specific consumptions in the form of meat – nor vegetables – and to undergo a strict form of diet consists those of fruits plucked and harvested from within of Juuyoku, including that made of wheat such as rice and bread. Seafoods were also removed from the selection of choosing as well.
As he finished clearing up everything his wielder need to know, Shingi knew there will be a setback afterwards. Sternly, he looked over him, trying not to be bothered by them looking back with the unhappy gaze of pleading.
He learns to ignore the look from his experience of previous wielders before him, but he couldn’t keep holding his heart from breaking in guilt. He doesn't even know he’s resonating the emotion within him- years of holding on those unsaid emotions twitch himself a little, slowly seeping out like a leak.
He -The Medicine Seller of RI- couldn’t help but to think of the part where he needed to left his Shingi until everything becomes damp down on its own.
The fact he has to leave Shingi behind…
"Stay away from me," Shingi warns him with a low growl. “I don’t want to be attended by you,” leaving the remaining words unsaid, he turns his head away to the other side.
“Not from you...”
Shingi known of his mistakes too late, but to save both himself and his wielder, he has to take measures, even if his wielder heavily risks their own safety just to save the glimpse of humanity’s kindness.
To risk oneself while saving the one that’s able to duplicate with another is absolutely complicated. The higher authorities heavily digress Shingis to save them no matter the situation they’re put into, just because their heart breaks for them; even if it slowly corrupts them to turn into the very creature they aim to put down to rest. Hence the reason it's heavily restricted to keep others at only arms reach, even if the relationship blossoms into more than just the bond of wielder and instruments.
Even if it meant for him and his wielder have to separate for an indefinite time being.
In other words, his intention to save his wielder’s life he feels the same of his wielder wanting to save human’s life.
And that was enough for those similarities stayed like that.
“You may leave,” He dejectedly said to his other half, even if it hurts. His eyes tilts back over to him, and a dissatisfied look exudes from his body, seeking any way to stay.
And it assures him there’s still parts of the kinder side of humanity that still be saved. And he contributes it as well; by saving their life.
“I advise you to exit from the chamber while I’m being recovered.” He warns him again to leave the room, raising his octave even higher.
But instead of obeying, his wielder inches closer from the already close range. A sweat drops from his forehead; never had he ever experience this sort-of behavioural wielder from his before.
More so, his wielder didn’t back down on his own words.
“This is my chamber. You’re seriously going to evict the owner of the house from their own home?”
“This room and I aged older before your time. Get out.”
“I refuse to take a step outside.”
“It is for your wellbeing. Get out.”
“I refuse to.”
This wielder is truly stubborn, right by now their nose is almost an inch to the touch. He grits his teeth, frustrated towards his inability of unable to understand what does his wielder requires from him.
It also doesn’t help that he’s unable to lean further away from the persistent man.
After a striking long stare between them, the man in ashen hair tilts his head and hushes closer to his ear, uttering three-letter words that makes the world around him to stop;
"You look beautiful."
His cheeks touched once more by the pale hands of his, the blue glint of spark doesn’t evade the contact, even when he briefly flinched from the cold of his grasp. The fingers gently rub the rough surface of his skin in a circular motion, and Shingi continues to be absorbed in silence from the honey-like voice speaks to him once more with those same gentle words, repeating itself.
"You're as beautiful as the day I met you."
He slowly blinks as he taken in by surprise. The darkness of his sclera fills in with the red-passion of the pupils, gleaming brighter from the sudden statement. His heart thrums in a steady beat he couldn't understand, and he had this bizarre feeling to jump in excitement if not for the shackles embedded on his body.
It was those words, he convinced.
Those words stir something within him; his mind fades in to the memory of a distant time, not too long ago.
His ears perked at the sudden sound of bells ringing from far distance. Each grew louder and quieter, all at the same radius in the room he’s in.
But this is no room; and he was completely absent from the place he’s in.
The landscapes around him shifting, and he felt the sense of familiarity washes over him. He looked down to see a laid-out red carpet on designated stone path leading to the porch he sits on, scattering with petals of flowers from different seasons. Several of it were sent flying across the cheerful sky. Under the awning of a shrine roof, everyone was present – Four Symbols, and several Hexagram wielders – as they celebrate their vow just when the curtains of sliding doors opening wider so. It was the day of their declaration to become one – Their day of commemoration.
They all applaud his wielder’s arrival with their hands synchronized to a whimsical movement, each of them clapping their hands altogether— the same two simple motion he could easily read,
Clapping and pause,
Clapping and pause,
—clapping and pause.
Paper curtains flapping, following the direction of calming breeze. The ray of light showers Shuuga no Mine like a morning sun. Everyone who was present giving out their celebratory speeches and trinkets to remember these certain days as seconds flew by.
Both of them sitting on their respective seats apart each other; him and his soon-to-be-Medicine Seller, hand in hand half-covered with jewellery, gently holding onto another, never to pull away.
Even now he still recalls how warm the light shone above them.
He sighed, but his gloomy expression tells otherwise.
He stands up and walks away from where he’s at, tip-toeing his way down the small stairs. Carefully lifts the end of hakama a little to avoid from tripping.
His wielder didn’t follow and instead watches him from afar.
A silent agreement to break this beautiful façade of memories.
Does it matter anymore? His vision shifts, and he’s hit with the current truth.
He hadn’t realized how far his mind lingers on that as soon as he’s back to his senses, he’s startled by his wielder who had long leaned in to a direct kiss.
As if realizing the response of their Other, he pulls away gently, stroking his hands away from his shoulder. The hot press of the contact remains for a while even after he pulls back, the blue eyes giving an ominous glint and there’s a mischievous smile appear on his lip.
The person tilts his head and rightfully snickers in amusement as he observes his partner’s surprised reaction.
"Black looks good on you," He compliments him once more, bringing his hand over to his mouth. The end of his ears was bright red, with it becomes more as he added, "It brings more highlight to the whiteness of your hair."
The embarrassment he felt quickly turned into confusion, and he expressed a solemn look from the statement his wielder provides. "You did not like me as I was before?"
His wielder shakes his head with the smile turning faint, outwardly replies, "I love you in every way you are—there were no more lesser than that."
They lean in once more for another kiss. Through another of this interaction, this time, his wielder made sure to support his chained head firmly with both his hands onto his cheeks; pressing the tattooed lips hot against his cold-stained mouth.
Their tongues twists and tangle on countless pulling and presses, touching each angle of their inner cheeks. It stays for a good number of minutes before his Medicine Seller draws away from his face.
Just after he pulls out from the second glimpse of the craved, intimate touch, there’s a streak of black substance glossing over his own lip, and casually he rubs it off by the end of his sleeve.
"I’ve considered," He propose to him, teasing him by pointing at his lover’s nose, "After you’ve recovered, I would like to paint your teeth with the same colour as this one."
“…Paint it black?”
“Paint it black.” His response was firm, “After everything, of course.”
He’s glad that his wielder is now giving some space for him to breathe, as they went to precisely takes out something from one of the mirror drawers from the corner of the room. He sits beside his partner once more as he carefully begins stroking his hair.
He hums upon his partner’s confession.
The act of darkening one’s teeth – specifically he heard were among the women – is a sign of maturity, and could as well be linked to ageless beauty; he wasn’t well knowledgeable in these human commonalities. He wasn't sure if it could be applicable to a divine being like himself.
He had a choice to refuse– but Shingis mostly prefer to keep up with their wielder's liking as a part of strengthening their bond, no matter how overzealous the demand is- though nothing will change if they were to refuse their partner’s request.
He swallowed the rest of saliva in his throat – no, maybe the rest of its streams was of Mononokes’ – as he considers his wielder's request. He takes a quick glance to the Taima, standing up slightly on the ground it leans on. Its pesky smile that always carved on its face mocks him as if it finds the situation intriguing, eyes without beads unknown whether it’s observing the lovebirds of that its wielders or has long looking to the other way.
He knows he’ll be sent for another round of lecturing afterwards. He's in fact, a divine instrument whom had undergone against the rules of their authority in the first place.
Furthermore, with the act of his wielder going slightly off the rails just moments ago.
But he couldn’t deny it – He already choose this one.
And he refuses to let him go.
Maybe this is what the others meant by enjoying the time they have before everything hits the storm, and he sighs. looking back to his wielder, their eyes glints under the candle-lit room, the gaze that took him to an endless bound of sea; even- He embraced the smile that stretches upon his lip, grinning wholeheartedly having the need to answer the delayed question given.
He has finally decided.
"Of course," He closes his eyes once more and reply to the long-awaited question. “I will do it. Anything for you, my dear."
His wielder smiles back in response, continuing to brush the strand of his hair with a hand comb, feeling the sense of fingertips becomes gentler the further he strokes.
---..---..----.
"Thank Kami you're awake!" A resounding voice of a man wakes the woman up from her daze.
There has been a report days ago by a group of foragers spotting a strange fire ignited at a certain area, mostly on where they usually done hunting and gathering resources. The flames they described was huge akin to a whirlwind of fire before it dissipates for an entirely unknown reason.
By the time detectives were sent off to the scene, what they found weren’t what they’re expecting and instead left them with more questions. Charred grounds of several burnt trees, and there was no inclusion to where the fire came from – nor where it begins. The only thing that was there was a small hunched figure of a woman, visibly shaken and appears to be traumatised. She suffers from small burns and lacerations; the most prominent one was a long gash on her ankle that requires several stitches.
When she’s sent to the healing house before being interrogated, they couldn't help but to be perplexed by the woman's absurd claim of a monster called "Mononoke" which had caused it, including a person who's able to kill it. Kami, she even obnoxiously believes that her spouse has come back to haunt her. Judging by a blunt hit she got aside from other wounds, it is speculated that she’s disoriented with everything and unable to speak regarding this any further.
Yet her obnoxious claims of those two things stays in the field of their records.
They continue their investigation through the marked area until everything was called off, but didn't find anything that could connect the dots nor was related to the said event; this also includes finding a person that was the same as what the witness had claimed; the appearance of the so-called flashy man.
Yet, what they only could find at the scene was a scrap of wet clothes belonged to the supposed dead husband, stained with a strange, thick black substance that was left behind.
--END.--