Chapter Text
He had Kakiage for breakfast.
Or— was it Katsudon? No, that’s not right. But he was one hundred percent sure that it wasn’t tempura, way too crunchy to be tempura…
He shook his head. He needed to focus so that he could figure out how he’d wound up wherever here was! There wasn’t much to look at, the ground was a flat dull grey stone that stretched as far as his eyes could see and the air around him was laced with a totally not creepy purple aura.
And it was freezing. Like Dragonspine level sheer cold freezing! Like, what the actual hell— not even the coldest winter on Tsurumi Island was this freaking cold!
It was clear that he’d been drugged. That would explain why everything felt so muddled. Did the culprit slip something into his breakfast? No wait, he ate at home so how could that even work?
The detective let out a frustrated yell as he willed his mind to work when he recalled a news broadcast while he was going over some case files…
“The Glaze Lillies will be performing their latest album for their first tour in Inazuma City! In other news, the Tenryou Commission has not released any new information regarding the rising rates of people in the city going missing…”
Right! He was working on a case where a number of people were going missing. After weeks of investigating, the Tenryou Comission hadn’t turned up any leads. It was as though they were vanishing right into thin air… there was no DNA evidence, no signs of any struggles, nothing connecting that would even explain why they went missing to begin with…
He managed to narrow down the general area where most of the victims had disappeared to and then… and… and then he…
“The demons got you too.”
Caught off guard, he whirled around and kicked out. His ankle was caught in an iron grip by some dude dressed in a halloween costume. He wore olden-timey cloak, boots, and armaments straight out of the world history books that used to put him to sleep as a kid. Khaenri’ah, maybe?
If memory serves, Khaenri'ah didn't vibe with any other nation back in the day. Could this be some kinda serial killer fanatic?
“I don’t suppose you’re the one responsible for all those people going missing?” He tried to keep his voice level as he took in every detail about his assailant. Blonde, lightning shaped body tattoos. Overdue for a manicure. Yellow eyes with contacts that were glowing, “If you’re willing to cooperate, I’m sure the Commission will give you a lighter sentence—“
“It’s cute that you think I have the power and authority to stop the Narukami Ogosho from sending more demons to the surface.” The blonde twisted his leg and threw the detective to the ground.
"Get up!"
Even through ringing ears, he could still hear his old man shout as he struggled to force air that'd been knocked out of his burning lungs back in, his stomach rolled into knots, and his bruised knuckles had begun to bleed... But that didn't bother his old man.
"The only way your training will end today is if you can master this simple block or if you pass out. On your feet now!"
Why am I thinking about that memory?
While he tried to force air that’d been knocked form his lungs, his mind reeled. Narukami Ogosho was the name commonly used in Inazumian folklore to describe the Demon Lord who used to send demons from the Abyss to prey upon the souls of the living. Had— Had he stumbled upon some sort of demon worshiping cult?
“What have you done to them!?”
“Would you calm down so I can explain?” The guy dressed as a demon massaged his temples with one hand before he glared back at the doushin, “On the eve of the new moon, the Narukami Ogosho sent another hoard to the human realm through a tear in the Honmoon to reap souls so she can grow stronger. And before the demon hunters could put a stop to it— you were one of them.”
He’s bluffing.
“Man alive! That’s some sick joke you’ve got there—”
“But you were carrying something with you when you died.” The guy dressed as a demon cut him off and continued to press, “Shame or regret, maybe even anger. Whatever it was, it’s turned you into this instead of fuel for her.”
No, no he— he was still breathing! How could he be dead and…?
His memory flitted back to an aquamarine stone slowly being dyed red on the ground as he desperately tried to stop his friend from bleeding out on the summer festival streets…
”Breathe…”
And then he was sixteen, annd walking out the front door of the martial arts dojo he was raised in for the last time... and deciding against knocking his old man’s teeth in.
“Just breathe…”
And the last case he’ll ever have worked on will remain unsolved…
“Deep breaths.”
The air felt too heavy and sunk down until it was all trapped in his lungs.
He felt two clawed hands place themselves on his shoulders, he looked up and saw the his own reflection in the demon’s eyes was the same…
Same lightning shaped markings, same sharpened canines and claws, even his green eyes turned—
“Just keep breathing.” The Yokai- the demon guy told him as he gasped for air, “You’ll adapt.”
His mind felt like a computer running out of storage and about to crash. He stumbled back, shrugging the demon's arms off in doing so.
“Why…?” He gulped when he forced the stale air out of his chest, “Why are you helping me?”
“That’s my own burden to carry.” The demon side stepped in time to avoid his grapple attempt and sighed, “Look, all you need to know is a long, long time ago… I failed to save something precious when it mattered most. And this is my atonement. And in this region of the Abyss, the souls with the highest mental fortitude end up here and are hunted first.”
Hearing paise that he never would’ve received from his colleagues in his previous life made him bark out a bitter laugh.
“Your name?” The demon suddenly asked him, “What’s your name?”
He stopped short of answering him. Names were precious and he wasn’t about to give away any part of who he was so easily… If this really was the Abyss, what if his own name could be used against him down here?
“You know when to keep your guard up. Good. You’ll survive longer.” The Khaenri'ahn warrior’s lips tugged upward into the smallest of smiles before he turned. As he began to walk away, he added, “You better write it down before you forget. The worst memories are the ones that linger the longest…”
The Doushin blinked and looked around for something to write with, lacking anything else he could use, he bit his thumb until he drew blood and hastily scribbled on his lightning marked arm—
I’m Detective Shikanoin Heizou… I had Kakiage for breakfast.