Work Text:
The imperial court was as busy as ever. With the escalation of ayakashi attacks on the capital, Heian-kyo's diviners are never not busy exterminating, reporting, and more exterminating. That includes the most respected and most revered. Even so, Abe no Seimei has never been the passionate type. He wouldn't go out of his way to check every nook and crannies of the capital to exorcise yokais; in a way, he's rather fond of those claimed-to-be vengeful entities. But once urged by the emperor himself, what could a puny subject like him do if not heed?
"They're out to get me this time, I'm sure," urged the emperor behind the veil, his trembling voice reflects all but being the leader of a nation. "Are you sure you've done your job right?"
Your head is lowered still, breath steady from the endless hours of being forged to function under immense pressure. Observing from the edge of the moderate sized chamber among two other fellow court ladies, you watch as the onmyoji Abe no Seimei sat before the emperor. You've heard rumours about how odd the man was, yet didn't think much of it as having to deal with ghosts and spirits and demons daily would make it rather difficult for anybody to retain their sanity. And today was the first time you got to see him up close. For despite having been spending most of your time in the imperial court to the point you might as well become its inhabitant, Abe no Seimei was elusive enough that you almost thought his existence was a myth.
With a restrained smile etched across his face, Seimei attempted to soothe the man before him. "Please, ease your worries. We have placed in position our talisman throughout the court. Although," he paused, and without averting his gaze, gestured his hand towards you. In a matter of barely a second, the woman on your right bursted violently, flesh and blood and bones now scattered across your sides, some sticking atop your cheek and garment and hair. "Some ayakashis still seemed to manage to slip through. My apologies," he added, not the smallest hint of remorse trailing by his voice.
Terror surged through your entire body. Deafened from the choking screams of the lady on your right and probably the emperor's as well, it was as if your heart stopped beating. Fury and fear and shock engulfs you. Who is there to blame this time? the colleague who turned to be a disguised monster that has her remains scattered across your body, the emperor that's too feeble to maintain his dignity in desperate times, or the damned diviner who's simply doing his job? You couldn't decide. For before you even know it, Abe no Seimei is now kneeling before you, his expression unreadable as he guided his hand towards your blood-stained cheek. You swerved sideways in attempt to avoid his touch, fearing that the fingers that could easily make a woman (or, well, a yokai) explode would bring nothing but harm.
Seimei's face remained eerie as he gently chuckled in defeat. Ignoring the hazard happening around them with retainers coming and going from the blast, it was as if you were hypnotized by whatever magic he's been keeping on his sleeve. He began, "Do excuse me for the mess," then bowed slightly, "for if I were to stretch even the smallest second—"
You interrupted: "The emperor would be done for."
"Actually, no. The emperor's safety is guaranteed so long as I exist."
"Then—"
"It's you," Seimei paid back the interruption, then cited your words with less than half its weight, "you would've been done for." He handed a handkerchief towards you, a pentagram stitched on its edge for some form of protection, perhaps, or just blatant narcissism—not that it'd matter to someone who just barely escaped death. You accepted the handkerchief, his hand gently grazing yours before you quickly pulled back to grip the cloth until its folds are no longer apparent. Seimei stood as a retainer found their way towards you, one who initially hesitated to be in the presence of the nation's greatest onmyoji yet somehow pushed through, then slipped through the swarm of tense attendants like he wasn't ever there.
Two weeks have passed since then, and you still don't know what to do with the narcissistic handkerchief he left on your care. You thought of keeping it, but it wasn't like the diviner was known throughout the capital as a man of virtue, and one never knows what Seimei has on his sleeve. So you, out of obligation and distress of what could come, now stand before the gates of the Abe estate, hoping you could later leave with all limbs attached.
For the giver always takes, and the taker always gives.
