Chapter Text
Fuck this day, honestly.
Momo swore quietly as she nearly tripped and fell on her face for the third time. She cursed her grandmother for sending her out on a spirit medium job all the way across town on a cold, wet Saturday evening. It would be just her luck if she cracked her skull open in this old biddy's overstuffed storage shed. And all for a job Granny herself had admitted was "probably nothing".
After a half-hour navigating the dusty piles of crap this Mrs. Wantanabe had accumulated, she was ready to throw in the towel. She hadn't felt any of the "overwhelming dread" the client had described, or spotted a single strange aura—just the tell-tale signs of a hoarding problem. Seriously, what possible purpose could this old bat have for keeping so many empty egg cartons?
Not that she had any idea what she would have done if there was a ghost. She'd never even seen a proper spirit or yokai for herself since her powers awakened. Some spirit medium training this is…
Momo did one last sweep of the shed with her aura sight before preparing to call it a day and leave. A flicker caught her atttention, and her eyes fell on half a dozen clay jars grouped together on a shelf. They were similar enough in design to make her think they were a set. On the surface, they were just antique jars, ranging in size from bigger than her head to small enough to fit in her palm. But it was their auras that made her look twice.
In her (admittedly limited) experience, the auras of inanimate objects were usually static lights that didn't move or change much. But as she stared at the jars, Momo could see something like a second aura laid over the surface. Faint lines that looked almost like writing she could not read pulsed over them, brightening and fading in a way that reminded her of a flickering lightbulb. Or a heartbeat…
Momo leaned in to inspect them closer. She had no idea what to make of it. The nearest jar to her, about the size of an orange, was flickering the most erratically. As she watched it, the weird symbols flared brightly once more, and then winked out—permanently, this time.
The hell is that all about?
A sound made her pause. The jar was rattling quietly where it sat on the shelf. As she watched, a crack appeared on its surface, and a wisp of smoke drifted out.
Oh, that can't be good.
Before she could react further, the jar exploded with a loud CRACK! Momo hit the deck as shards flew through the air. When she was sure she wasn't going to be hit by any ceramic shrapnel, she cautiously raised her head—and gawked in disbelief.
Where the small jar had been sat the oddest creature Momo had ever seen. She thought it was a bird at first—it was built like one, with feathery wings and a thin scaly feet, about the size of a chicken. But the face that sat on the end of its long neck was mammalian, almost dog-like. Huge nostrils snuffled loudly, and it blinked big wet eyes.
When the creature spotted her, it let out a squawk, and flames erupted from its feathers! With a startled cry, Momo leapt away from the yokai—because that had to be what it was, right?—tripping over a cardboard box and landing hard on her ass.
The weird dog-chicken flailed and leapt off the shelf, fluttering over Momo's head and landing somewhere amid the junk piles—but not before it knocked over the jar next to it. It shattered on impact with the floor, and a column of white mist materialized, accompanied by a frightening wail.
Momo scrambled away until her back hit something—an old chest of drawers, stuffed full of junk like everything else in the shed. The smell of smoke hit her nose, and she looked around wildly for the source. The dog-chicken had landed on a precarious stack of newspapers, which began to blacken and burn underneath it.
"Hey!" A fire was the very last thing she needed right now. She reached out with her psychic power, intending to snatch the yokai, but as her ghost hand closed around it, it let out a squawk and another burst of flame. Momo hissed and let go—it burned as though she'd grabbed it with her flesh-and-blood hand. The dog-chicken leapt off the newspaper stack while she inspected her hand for damage, leaving a trail of embers in its wake.
The strange mist column let out another shriek, blasting Momo with a gust of frigid air, and rushed for the nearest window. Glass shattered as though the mist were solid as a rock.
Aw, shit. Another squawk from the dog-chicken distracted her from the possible consequences of that development, and Momo whipped around to see the little creature attempting to scale a stack of old books. Its footprints left behind tiny flames, which were swiftly growing as they consumed the dry paper.
"Fuck," she hissed. Getting to her feet, she looked around frantically for something to smother the flames with. Maybe an old blanket? Or a box to trap the yokai under?
Before she found anything suitable, the dog-chicken suddenly flew straight at her head. Momo ducked, and the yokai hit the shelf, knocking two more pots down. She reached out with her powers, managing to catch one—but the other she just barely missed.
A red fog erupted from its shattered remains, along with the stench of rotting meat so strong she nearly gagged. Did all of those pots contain yokai?
The dog-chicken flew off the shelf once more, past Momo and out the door. She clutched the jar she'd managed to save to her chest, thinking that maybe the little yokai had the right idea as she watched the fog coalesce into a solid figure.
It was humanoid, but barely. Thin and bony, its limbs were all wrong, too long, with too many joints. A mane of stringy black hair sprouted from its head. Its skin was boiled-lobster red, reminding her a bit of illustrations of oni she'd seen in books. Luckily, it was facing away from her, and Momo began to back away slowly as the creature rose.
Her foot sent a random bit a junk clattering across the floor, and the oni's head whipped around towards her with a crack. Bulging yellow eyes locked on hers. Lips pulled back and bared curved tusks. It lunged, but Momo lashed out with her powers, swatting the creature into the far wall—and the fire now consuming the haphazard junk piles.
It screamed, and Momo turned and fled.
More clatters and shrieks sounded from behind her, followed by a crash. Momo looked over her shoulder in time to see and enormous shape soaring straight up into the air. Before she could make out any details, something stinking of rotting meat slammed into her back. Claws dug painfully into her shoulders.
Momo landed hard. The jar, pinned between her body and the ground, shattered—and pure darkness exploded out of it.
She gasped and covered her face as the frigid black wave swept over her. An animal howl pierced the air. Fear, deep and primal, froze her blood in her veins.
Something shrieked, and weight on her back suddenly disappeared. Momo flailed, flipping over and scrambling away.
She gaped in horror as she watched the red-skinned oni claw at the enormous creature made of roiling shadow that pinned it to the ground. Jaws full of jagged white teeth clamped around its throat, and it gave one last gurgling cry before its head was ripped from its shoulders. The head dropped to the ground with a wet thud, yellow eyes staring sightlessly upward.
The creature turned to face her. It stood on four legs, with empty white eyes and a long, toothy snout, but Momo could make out no other details past the shadows that rose from its body like smoke. She could only stare, praying it couldn't see the way she trembled.
She waited for it to lunge—and blinked in surprise when it began to shrink.
The living shadows coalesced into the shape of a man—or something like one. He was clothed in a black haori and hakama trousers, tattered and torn. Red flames flickered at his shoulders and the hem of his haori. His hair, white streaked with red, also behaved much like flame. His skin was a sickly gray, and the lower half of his face was covered by a black mask shaped like the muzzle of a snarling animal. Round glasses framed blood-red eyes, pinning her in place as they locked on her.
Momo raised her hands, bracing herself for whatever this new monster was about to throw at her—she nearly fell over in shock when he sank into a low bow before her.
"You have my deepest gratitude," he said in a deep, raspy voice.
"Uh…?" she replied eloquently. So he… wasn't about to eat her?
"I owe you a great debt," he continued, still not rising from his bow. "Until it is repaid, I am in your service. My power is yours to command, Mistress."
Momo gaped like a fish for several seconds before she finally found her voice. "Hah?! The hell are you talking about?!"
He glanced up at her, blinking. "Er… You freed me? I'm indebted to you, therefore I shall be your servant until—"
"Hold up!" Momo got to her feet. Fading adrenaline made her limbs shaky, but she managed not to fall on her face. "I don't need a servant. I-I broke that jar on accident! You don't owe me anything." She had, in fact, been trying to keep it from breaking—but she didn't need to tell him that.
The yokai straightened a bit, though his back still curved into a slouch. Even so, he was at eye level with her. He must've been quite tall standing up straight. "Regardless of your intentions, Mistress, you are the one who released me from that prison. I owe you a great deal, and I cannot allow that debt to go unpaid."
Momo raked a hand through her hair in frustration. She'd been having a shit day already but this… This was just too much. "Look, you uh… you got that other thing that was going after me. So, we're even, alright?"
He blinked, looking over at the gruesome remains of the oni like he'd forgotten it was there. "That, uh… I-I am certain that amanojaku would have been no trouble to defeat, for someone kami-touched like yourself."
'Kami-touched'? "What the hell's that mean?"
His head tilted slightly to the side. "You… you are blessed by the kami, are you not? I have never encountered a human with so bright a soul as yours."
Momo struggled to parse that—this yokai talked like a character in some historical play. Her soul was bright? Did he mean her aura?
A loud CRASH interrupted her train of thought. The shed's roof had caved in, sending a cloud of embers into the darkening sky.
"No, no, no, no!" Flames were visible through the windows. If she couldn't put out the fire, it might spread to the trees, and then they'd be in real trouble.
She rummaged through her pockets for her phone. It had been in her jacket when she'd gone into the shed, she was sure of it. Had it fallen out? Scanning the ground around her, she saw no sign of it.
Please tell me it's not in the shed! Oh god, what do I do?! There might be a fire extinguisher in the house, but would it be enough? "Fuck!"
"Do you wish for me to extinguish the flames, Mistress?"
Momo stared at the yokai. "You can do that?!"
In answer, he squared his shoulders and extended a hand towards the shed. His fingers were pitch black, fading to pale gray at his palm, and tipped with long claws.
For a moment, nothing happened, but then Momo noticed that his shadow was moving across the ground—towards the shed, to the light, which shouldn't have been possible.
As his shadow reached the burning structure, it grew, crawling up the walls and engulfing the building in a cocoon of pure darkness. When it retreated, the flames were gone, snuffed out. All that remained was the huge column of smoke rising into the sky.
Momo gawked at the yokai as the mass of shadows retracted back into him—and then he promptly collapsed to the the ground on his hands and knees with a groan.
"Whoa, hey!" Momo knelt down and grabbed his shoulder thoughtlessly. To her surprise, the red flames were not hot to the touch, tickling her hand slightly. His shoulder felt bony and thin underneath the cool black fabric. "Are you okay?"
The yokai looked up at her, then at her hand. Though his mouth was covered by the toothy mask, surprise was plain in his eyes. "I… I will be alright, Mistress. Being imprisoned for so long has sapped my strength, but I will recover."
"Ohhhkay… If you say so…" She removed her hand and studied him. This close, Momo could see markings on his face she hadn't noticed before. Deep red lines around his eyes, and two vertical stripes that ran down his face and under his mask. And in his hair—
She froze, blinking in disbelief. Sprouting from the top of his head was a fluffy, triangular ear. It was the same color as his hair, which she supposed was how she hadn't seen it before.
She glanced at the rest of him. He looked mostly human, but… His toes were black like his fingers, unnaturally long and tipped with claws. She peered over his backside. Sticking out of the back of his hakama trousers was a long white tail!
"What kind of yokai are you?" The question slipped out before she could consider whether it was a rude one or not.
It didn't seem to offend him, though. He rose carefully, standing balanced on the balls of his strange feet, and dipped into a shallow bow. "I am an okuri-inu, Mistress."
A sending-off wolf… She recalled from the stories Granny had told her throughout her childhood that okuri-inu were creatures who stalked people passing through their territory, following them step-for-step. If you could keep your footing, you were safe, but if you stumbled…
None of the stories mentioned them being able to take human form, though, or controlling shadows the way he had done. He didn't seem like he wanted to eat her…
But on a more pressing note: "Yeah, this 'Mistress' stuff ain't gonna fly. I've got a name, you know."
He gave her a flat stare. "You have yet to share that name, Mistress."
That was… true. She covered her fluster with an annoyed huff. "It's Momo. Momo Ayase."
"Mistress Ayase—"
"No Mistress! Don't call me that!"
"Lady Ayase, then."
Well, that was somewhat better. She supposed she could allow it. "What do I call you?"
The yokai raised his eyebrows, as though surprised by the question. "I, uh… You can address me however you wish, Lady Ayase."
What kind of an answer was that? "Wha… C'mon, you gotta have a name, though. Something your friends call you...?"
He shuffled his feet and his slouch deepened. One hand came up to adjust his glasses. This line of questioning seemed to have made him deeply uncomfortable. "N-no… not as such. I don't have… um… People always simply addressed me as 'okuri-inu' or… less pleasant things."
Momo frowned. Now that she thought about it, the yokai in Granny's stories were rarely called by specific names. But to hear him say that he didn't even have one in the first place…
Well, she wasn't going to just call him by his species—that would be weird, like someone addressing her as "human".
"Then I'll come up with a nickname for you," Momo declared.
He blinked at her in surprise. "Uh…?"
"Let's see…" She studied him. Maybe "Shiro", for his hair? Nah, that was too obvious. She could do way better.
He's an okuri-inu… Okuri… Oka…
"How about 'Okarun'?" she asked. Sort of a combination of "okuri" and "kun". It sounded good as she said it.
The yokai tilted his head. "Oka… run? Okarun… Yes. That is… nice. Thank you, Lady Ayase."
To her surprise, the black mask covering his mouth dissolved into nothing, revealing a surprisingly round face and a soft smile.
…Woah. He looked way younger like that. Like he could be her age, even. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and Momo saw that his tail was actually wagging behind him! That was… weirdly adorable.
In that moment, he didn't look like a vicious yokai who had ripped an oni to shreds just minutes ago. He looked… like a young man. A man who was actually kinda cute, with a nice smile…
Momo shook herself. That was a thought she refused to entertain any further. It had clearly been way too long for her if she was actually thinking that this yokai was cute!
Get a grip, dammit!
"What is your next command, Lady Ayase?"
Okarun's question brought her back to the present. She frowned. This debt of servitude thing did not sit right with her. But he'd refused her when she told him they were even, and Momo could remember several stories where humans had brought disaster down on their heads by offending yokai. Okarun didn't seem like a bad guy, but…
Her gaze landed on the remains of the oni before darting away again.
She looked at the remains of the storage shed to distract herself. Between fire damage and the huge… whatever-it-was that had smashed through it, the roof was completely gone. The client was gonna be pissed. Granny was gonna be pissed, even though this whole mess was most definitely not her fault!
Not to mention the fact that there were at least three other yokai on the loose somewhere… God, she was fucking exhausted all of a sudden.
"I… need to go home. Figure out what to do next." She was in desperate need of food and a hot shower.
"Oh… This is not your home?" Okarun asked.
"No way! I live across town." Momo rubbed her temple. She was not looking forward to the walk back, or explaining the situation to Granny. What would she say when she rolled up with a yokai in tow?
Although… maybe Granny would have some idea for how to get out of this debt thing without offending Okarun's honor, or whatever.
"Let's get going, it's a bit of a walk to the bus stop."
Okarun bowed. "As you say, Lady Ayase."
She grimaced. What a mess…