Chapter Text
Johei grits his teeth as another blow lands against the blade of his wooden sword, knocking him backwards. The force makes his hands feel numb and even as he digs his feet into the dirt, he can’t help the way his balance is thrown off.
“Focus, Johei!” The man across from him snaps. His gray eyebrows are pulled low with frustration, his own wooden sword poised to strike again. “Your stance is off! Keep your eyes up!”
Johei blinks through the sweat running down his brow and adjusts his grip on the weapon. His muscles ache with a dull throb, knees trembling as they struggle to support his weight, and his breathing runs ragged. The setting sun burns hot against the back of his neck and Johei grimaces as he blocks another strike.
They’d been at this since noon.
“I’m trying, Master!” He pants. “I just… need a break.”
“You think your enemies will allow you a break?”
Johei swallows, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He's not surprised his master responded in such a way. Nothing less from the Capital’s famous devil summoner, Raidou Kuzunoha the Xiii. Or as everyone else knows him, Ryouta Kuzunoha.
Johei’s mother calls him that.
Technically, the man has only been Johei’s instructor for a few months now, but training never gets anyone less relentless. It’s been like this since day one, Ryouta using nearly his full strength and barking commands to the young child struggling to keep up.
Ryouta’s companion sits in the tree beside the ring of dirt- a black cat with green eyes and a braided collar. He always follows Ryouta around, never interacting much but just watching with a stony glare. Johei would like to pet him, maybe try to play with him, but he finds the cat’s gaze nearly as unnerving as his master’s.
The sword connects with Johei’s fingers as he fails to tilt the wooden sword properly to deflect. He yelps, snapping his hand back and dropping the weapon in response with a loud clatter.
A mistake, on his part, because as soon as his guard is down, Johei only gets a split second to brace himself as he hears the whistle of the sword swiping at him from below.
A crack breaks into the air as a white hot pain bursts against Johei’s chin and he’s thrown backwards, slamming into the ground on his side, vision spotty as tears prick his eyes.
It takes a long moment for him to regain his bearings. Johei takes a deep breath, his chin throbbing in time with his heart beat. His fingers touch the tender area and come away bloody, the flesh likely split across the bone in an open wound. His head wobbles on his shoulders and he’s hit with a sense of nausea, but Johei swallows it back. He doesn’t dare puke in front of his master.
Slowly, he pushes himself onto his knees and reaches out for the sword a few feet away.
The cat jumps down from the tree’s lowest branch, paws kicking up dust as it lands. It’s eyes flick over Johei, lingering on his face before it pads toward its companion.
“We’re done for today.” Ryouta picks up the fallen sword.
“Done?” Johei frowns. He’d loved to be done, really, to rest his aching limbs, but he can tell his master is disappointed at Johei’s performance. It fuels a sense of anxiety in his gut- the idea he’ll never make his predecessor proud and he’ll bring nothing but failure to the Kuzunoha name. “No, wait! I can keep going! Just let me-“
“I said we’re done .” Ryouta cuts him off, a stern glare thrown over his shoulder. “Go home.”
Johei can only hold his master's gaze for a moment before he hangs his head, managing a short nod. He watches glumly as the man stalks off with a huff and presses his sleeve against his bleeding chin. The cat throws him another look over their shoulder but they don’t stay either, simply sauntering off after the man.
“You’re too hard on him, Ryouta. He’ll never learn at this rate.”
Johei gazes at the cat beside his master. Sometimes, it will mew softly to Ryouta, too soft for Johei to hear, but he likes to imagine the cat speaking. In his head, he knows he's too old for that sort of thing, but he allows himself to imagine in the farthest parts of his mind.
He sighs and pulls himself to his feet, a frown etched into his face. He feels pathetic, really. Nearly every training session ends the same way, with Ryouta sorming off in a controlled rage and Johei nursing some new injury. Part of him wishes to complain, to ask to take things slower, maybe to not hit so hard, but in the end, Johei knows it’s simply his own fault for being weak. He can’t be childish.
Johei walks to the edge of the training ring to the grassy area. Hidden beside a low bush rests a ceramic white kitsune mask, where he’d placed before he’d begun the training session. Carefully, Johei slips the mask onto his head, cinching the strap tight against the back of his head, his palm supporting the ceramic snout as he adjusts it to better see through the eyeholes.
It’s something he’s been wearing for years. Apparently, it’s one of his mother’s possessions, one of the few things she’d retained from ‘old life’, as she’d called it, and Johei had taken a liking to it. At first, he’d simply admired it from where she’d kept it stashed away, but he’d begun to wear it out and about when his mother had made a drunken comment late one night about how much Johei’s face looked like his. She hasn’t mentioned it since, but he’s hoped that perhaps wearing it eases her mental state, at least just by a little.
The pressure of the mask against his chin stings but Johei figures it will help the wound scab up faster. He pushes through the grass towards the more populated area of the Kuzunoha village. If he gets home faster enough, perhaps he can try to help with dinner.
A yellow shape flutters in the corner of his eye and Johei looks over his shoulder, eyebrows raising as he catches sight of movement by the creek.
A poltergeist. A demon.
Creatures of the damned, those cast away from the light of the gods. Johei recalls the passage from the Kuzunoha records. Tricksters, only to be dealt with by warriors and summoners.
Ryouta has told Johei on many occasions that he isn’t ready to handle demons. That they’d take advantage of his weakness and eat him whole. Yet, Johei has seen plenty of little demons around the outskirts of the Kuzunoha village and finds them to be compatible playmates. None of them are very big or threatening and many of them will do little more than blow a gust of wind his way.
Johei walks through the grass to the little poltergeist, his hand raised as he pokes the demon on its back. It squeaks, whirling around and somersaulting in the air as Johei giggles softly.
“Kitsune!” The little demon chatters. It’s what every demon he’s befriended has taken to calling him. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!”
Johei holds his hand out for the poltergeist to sit on, smiling at the way its head bounces back and forth like it can hear a nonexistent song in the wind.
“It’s been busy.” Johei says sheepishly. He gently pets the poltergeist’s head with his other hand. It’s a strange sensation, like skimming his palm over lukewarm water. “My master has been giving me longer lessons.”
“Ew, lessons!” The poltergeist spits, the black holes of their eyes squinting.”I could hear him yelling from the woods! He’s too serious.”
Johei huffs a short laugh.
“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll put you in one of his tubes and never let you out.”
The demon floats off of Johei’s palm, little arms waving.
“Devil summoners!” It shrieks. “The bane of my existence.”
“I aim to be one, you know.” Johei begins to follow the little sprite alongside the creek, closer to the forested area. “Don’t go bad-mouthing them too much.”
“Yes, but you’ll be a nice summoner.” The poltergeist insists. “C’mon, Kitsune! Let’s go play in the meadow.”
As Johei follows the demon into the forest, more little poltergeists appear from the trees, each of them greeting Johei as they float nearby. Poltergeists are one of the few types of demons that have familial bonds with each other and Johei has yet to encounter one that doesn’t have its own group.
Within minutes, ten to twelve yellow spirits float in the air around Johei, sitting on his head or pulling on his hair and clothes. They all chatter aimlessly like a gaggle of scatterbrained geese.
“I’m hungry! I want steamed pork buns!”
“Oh, the sky is pretty today!”
“Wow, look at that big bird in that tree!”
“I had a funny dream last night!”
“Kitsune, watch this! I can do a flip!”
“Hey, it’s my turn to sit there! Move over!”
Despite the almost overwhelming nature of the demons, Johei quite likes their company. He’s never had any other children his age to play with and he’s far too shy to attempt to talk to any other older kids in the village. A little swarm of demons staves off the loneliness a little bit.
They come to a clearing in the trees that opens to a grassy cliff side that oversees the village. The wind is stronger in the high elevation, blowing pine needles and leaves across the clearing and the sky has turned a deep orange cast by the setting sun. Wild flowers bloom alongside the cliff edge, yellow and pink, and white moths flutter from the grass wherever Johei steps. The faintest glow of lighting bugs flash gold in his peripheral like little stars and the rushing creek can be heard in the distance.
Johei sits in the grass a few meters from the edge of the cliff side. It isn’t quite tall enough to allow him to see his home, but he can see the training ring and the dojo where Ryouta has likely camped out for the evening. His chin stings at the reminder of his failure. Ryouta had taken Johei as an apprentice rather begrudgingly, stating he was only doing so as an order from the higher-ups, and he never ceases to express his reluctance when Johei doesn’t meet his expectations.
Pushing his disappointment away, Johei turns his attention back to his demon playmates, who have now all joined hands and bounce in a circle around him, singing an eerie song in a language Johei doesn’t know. He’s heard it many times before and simply hums along, head bobbing to the tune.
A pixie suddenly swoops up from the grass and flies straight through the circle, causing the poltergeist to flail in different directions and protest loudly.
“Hey, that’s not fair!”
“Mind your own business!”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The pixie flies up by Johei’s ear, wings fluttering fast enough to make a buzzing sound, and she sticks out her tongue.
“You guys are annoying!” She hoots. “Go play somewhere else.”
The poltergeists riot, a few of them chasing her around Johei while the others begin to argue with each other, tackling the closest one and rolling around in the air.
“What a noisy bunch.”
Johei glances over his shoulder at the sound of whooshing wings, and spots Moh Shuvuu fluttering down beside him, her wings poised beside her head like a large fan. She kneels in the grass and hisses a poltergeist that gets too close, arms folded against her chest crossly.
“I don’t know how you put up with ‘em.” She huffs.
“They’re entertaining.” Johei decides on. He plucks a blade from grass by his feet and begins to tie it into a knot. “I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”
“What, there’s nobody in your village who can talk your ear off instead?”
Johei shakes his head, ducking as the pixie darts around the ear of his mask. Of the demons he accompanies, Moh Shuvuu appears to be the most level-headed, scoffing at the arguments of smaller demons and snapping her teeth at them. She’s still very spirited, however, and easier to play with than the little poltergeists and pixies, but most of her games normally involve daring him to climb tall trees and throwing gusts of wind his way. She has a habit of trying to swipe the mask off of his face as well but luckily, Johei has become rather adept at dodging her.
If only he could do the same with Ryouta’s sword swing.
“Kitsune, did you trip or something?” Moh Shuvuu asks. Her nose wrinkles just a little, a line appearing between her brows. “I can smell blood on you.”
“Ah.” Johei touches his chin, shifting the bottom of his mask just enough to swipe his thumb against the wound. The bleeding has stopped by now, but it’s now crusted with dried blood, flaking away against his finger.
“Oh, geez.” Moh Shuvuu laughs. Johei has yet to meet a demon that doesn’t laugh at human pain. “How’d that happen?”
“Just a training accident.” Johei moves his mask back into place, adjusting the strap against the back of his head. “It was my own fault.”
“Ha! It always is, isn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
Johei lays down in the grass, his head propped up by his arms. The sun has vanished behind the horizon now, turning the sky a deep blue, where the faintest of stars have begun to appear. The poltergeists now glow gold in the dim light and the pixie becomes shrouded in a twinkling blue aura, becoming a sparkling streak as the demons give up chasing each other and settle on top of flowers, swaying in the breeze.
The air grows colder and Johei lets himself shut his eyes. He should start heading home soon; it is getting rather late and his mother might be wondering where he is. He’s been out this late before but she never ceases to scold him if he comes back after dark. Perhaps another few minutes before he bids farewell and heads back down the hill.
He can hear Moh Shuvuu stand from beside him and wander to the cliff side, likely to admire the flowers growing along the edge. The pixie buzzes over his head and into the forest again and the poltergeists have gathered together again a meter or two away, beginning their little song again.
Johei exhales softly. He enjoys the rare moments like these, where he can forget about his duty to become a devil summoner, forget about his shortcomings in training, and his worries of his mother. Moments where he can simply enjoy existence…
The meadow goes completely silent.
Johei frowns, his eyes fluttering open. The distant buzzing of the pixie is gone. He can’t hear the gentle humming from Moh Shuvuu and the poltergeists’ song has abruptly stopped. Even the wind has halted completely, leaving the clearing eerily quiet.
Slowly, he raises his head from the grass, glancing around the clearing. The glow from the demons have vanished. Even the flickering lights from the occasional lightning bug have sputtered out.
“Hello?” Johei pulls himself to his feet, dusting off his pants. Were they playing some sort of collective prank? But surely, he’d hear something, like the hushed whispering of an argument or an uncontained giggle. “You guys?”
The air suddenly grows cold. Johei shivers, goosebumps rolling up his arms and the hair on the back of his neck stands up straight. The ceramic mask suddenly feels like ice against his face and frost begins to spread along the grass in white clumps.
The wind picks up again, much softer than before, but it blows in slow bursts, sounding ragged and hoarse.
No. That isn’t the wind. It’s breathing.
There is something behind him.
Johei feels his blood run cold, his heart shuddering to a stop in his chest. He loves his little demon companions, but they’re mostly harmless, childish at heart. But in the back of his mind, he’s well aware that most demons aren’t like that. Most demons would slaughter him without a second thought. If his hunch is correct and it is indeed a demon behind him, then he is in grave danger.
Very slowly, Johei turns his head. He swallows, mind racing as he tries to recall any sort of dangerous demon in the area. Perhaps if he knew what it was, he could reason with it.
But his brain comes up empty. And even worse, his mind goes completely blank when he sees what exactly is standing behind him.
A figure cloaked in black. It stands beside a pale white horse, mane and tail drifting in an invisible wind. White tendrils wisp off of its form like steam and the figure beside it slowly turns its head. From behind the shadow of its tattered hood, Johei can see gold eyes peering through the darkness.
The breathing is rough, more like painful wheezing, and a skeletal hand reaches up and extends towards Johei’s face.
Johei is frozen in place. His hearing is completely fuzzed out and his tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth. His heart pounds, sloshing icy cold blood through his veins and his breath catches in his throat.
This isn’t a demon he’s ever seen before.
The creature’s fingers of bone clamp against Johei’s ceramic mask with a soft clatter, tugging slightly as they gain purchase on the slick surface. It begins to pull it away, like pulling open a sliding door, but in a single burst of adrenaline, Johei grabs the being’s wrist, stopping it in place. Only half of his face is exposed to the demon but he fears what would happen were it to take the mask away from him.
A strange repetitive clicking sound emits from the hood of the demon, like the sound of teeth clacking together.
And Johei realizes that's exactly what the demon is doing- lipless jaws smacking together in a strange pattern.
It’s speaking.
And even stranger, he realizes he can understand it.
Why do you hide your face, child?
Johei gazes up into the demon’s hood with one eye, the other obscured by the ceramic mask. The pale shape of a skull stares back at him, hollow eyes gazing with a sightless glare. It’s mouth is pulled into a grin, the very last of the daylight from the sky reflecting off of its pearly teeth.
“Who…” Johei manages to find his voice, albeit rather weak and shaky. “Who are you? What do you want?”
The demon chuckles, at least Johei assumes, its teeth clattering together with a low wheeze.
There is no need to be frightened. It huffs. I only wish to see the face of my kin.
Johei’s eyes flutter, brows pulling together in confusion.
Kin?
You have the color of death in your eyes. The demon moves its head the slightest bit closer, as if wanting to observe Johei more carefully. How unfortunate, yet… how very, very expected.
Slowly, the demon moves the mask back over Johei’s face, bony fingers dragging down the surface before it pulls away, Johei’s hold on its wrist slips free. Its cloak brushes over his shoulder, and it feels like the touch of a spiderweb, leaving behind a soft shiver.
“I don’t understand.” Johei shakes his head. The words rest heavy on his ears, echoing in his brain like a sort of omen. “What do you mean?”
The demon doesn’t answer. Instead, it turns away from him, drifting back to the white steed that remains waiting behind it.
“Wait!” Johei lurches forward, finally able to move his legs. He reaches out for its cloak. “Where are you going? What-”
“Johei!”
At the sound of his name, Johei jerks his head away, eyes trying to pinpoint the source of the noise.
A woman sprints through the trees, black hair tossed wildy around her shoulders and the skirt of her kimono tangled around her legs. She stumbles into the clearing and to his side, hand gripping firmly on Johei’s arm and her face becomes visible in the dark.
His mother.
“Johei, where have you been?” She demands. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“What?” Johei stares up at her in shock. “I was just…”
He turns back to where the demon stands, but its presence has completely vanished. There remains no sign of the demon, no wispy smoke or shred of its tattered garb. The noise in the clearing has returned as well- the slow whistle of the breeze and the dim chant of cicadas in the trees around them. It’s as if the demon has never been there at all.
Had he imagined it all?
“You've been gone for hours.” His mother turns Johei around, clasping both of his shoulders. “I’ve taught you better than to run off like that!”
“Gone for… huh?”
Johei glances up at the sky. Sure enough, the moon is directly above him, washing the landscape in a silver light. Has it really been so long? He felt it was only moments ago that the sun had barely been sinking below the horizon to the sound of the poltergeists’ little song.
And speaking of which, there doesn’t appear to be any sign of his demon companions either.
Behind his mother, Johei can see the shape of his master in the trees, and beside him, his cat.
Had they all gone looking for him?
Johei hangs his head. There’s no reason for him to try to explain himself, not without revealing he’d been playing with the demons in the forest, which he’s sure Ryouta would not be happy to hear. He’d likely be banned from leaving the village grounds.
“I’m sorry.” His hand moves to cling to his opposing arm timidly. “I didn’t mean to wander off for so long. It won’t happen again.”
His mother huffs a sign, a strange mix of frustration and relief. She pulls him into an embrace, a gesture that leaves Johei sputtering. She’s a very touchy kind of person, usually opposed to physical contact, and with how busy she’d been recently….
It’s over before he can properly register it.
“Come on.” His mother takes his hand and begins to lead him back down the trail to where Ryouta is waiting. “Let’s go home, okay? Dinner is cold.”
Johei looks over his shoulder, giving one last look to where the demon had stood.
But just as before, they are alone. No cloaked skeleton stands by a wispy steed to utter ominous words.
“Alright.”