Chapter Text
November 11, 2021
Please.
The gods have been long dead. Still, Utahime begs with every ounce of reverence inculcated into her back when her days were spent learning prayers and the Kagura. But those days are long gone. Her faith in benevolent gods have long suffered from their silence to her pleas. Yet, she cannot help but cling to any semblance of hope.
If there is but one god left, she hopes her desperate prayers reach them. If only this once.
It’s the only way left.
Her hands are ghostly white as they grip the steering wheel. Kyoto is a shadow of its former self, gripped with fear of things that it inadvertently creates yet remain unseen to many. The cityscape blends into an unrecognizable blur as Utahime speeds through the streets. She does not let up even as she enters what used to be an affluent neighborhood, nearly scraping the edge of a gate opened just enough for the car to pass through.
The near collision jostles the child to her right. Utahime casts a worried glance, but the boy remains asleep. A few minutes pass by before the car finally comes to a screeching halt.
“Kei, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.”
The child stirs, opening bleary eyes to look at his mother. “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay." She smoothes down his unruly hair. "Sweetheart, we need to go.”
Utahime gets out of the car and walks to the other side. She hastily unbuckles the child’s seat belt and maneuvers him into her arms. She moves quickly towards the dilapidated footsteps of a once opulent home to a clan that boasted hundreds of years of history.
There is no time. They will be here soon.
The gravel crunch under feet, disturbing the eerie silence that has taken residence of what once was a stronghold of power and influence. Her hurried, deft steps echo along abandoned corridors, like ominous beats luring a void threatening to close in. Mother and child pass by torn, moldy shoji doors, dank and green koi ponds, upturned and broken furniture. The barren rooms and unkempt gardens only bear ghosts of a time lost in the present.
The child embraces his mother’s neck for comfort as they move swiftly through darker and darker halls inside the mansion that once housed the Gojo clan.
Please.
Time seems to move slowly yet it never seems to be enough.
Finally, they reach a door in the basement. The air is stifling, congested with a blanket of dust as they stand on the dreary floor, illuminated by failing lights.
There is no mistake. It should be inside.
She puts a hand inside her coat pocket and reaches for a metal crest, a kamon . Utahime presses the metal crest against the door. The string attached to the crest hangs loosely from Utahime’s hands.
She waits.
Nothing.
Utahime grips the crest tightly, metal digging into her skin. The young boy senses his mother’s unease and burrows further into her neck, rubbing his hands against her skin. She can feel cold dread starting to creep into the back of her mind.
They had nowhere else to go. She did not come here to risk her son’s life for nothing.
Come on. I beg you.
Suddenly the ancient, wooden doors creak loudly. The doors bid them entrance into a dark chamber littered with a collection of relics in disarray. Utahime wastes no time and fingers the walls for a light switch. When she finds it, she sets her son down further into the chamber. On her knees in front of Kei, she fashions the string attached to the crest around her son’s neck and earnestly looks him in the eye.
“Kei-chan, stay here.”
Utahime zips up the child’s coat and stands, beginning her search through the entombed artifacts.
A cursed tantou, butterfly engravings on the tsuba.
She scours through countless weapons whilst fighting to tamp down the panic threatening to overwhelm her. My son, I need it for my son. She moves, uncaring of the priceless artifacts that break in her harried search. The clangs of metal and porcelain mockingly proclaim her fruitless search to the dark closing in.
No, no, no! Where is it?
Her eyes move back and forth, combing through the room for clues. Utahime’s silken black hair clings to her nape dappled with dust. Cold sweat drips down her back as she breathes heavily from exertion and almost crazed desperation.
Then, a glint catches her eye.
Black as ebony, the cursed blade she is looking for.
The adorned tsuba, beautifully engraved with dancing butterflies suspended in flight.
Utahime almost lunges for it as she crosses the room. She grasps it just as she hears a crash in the floors above.
They found us. There is no more time.
Utahime rushes back to Kei. She sets the blade down beside her son, and takes his cheek into her hand.
“Kei-chan, sweetheart, listen to Kaa-chan. Keep your eyes on me. No matter what happens.” Her thumb brushes his cheek, with so much love that her heart cannot be more broken. “Do you understand?”
The child quietly nods. She kisses his cheek and moves to stand.
With practiced ease, Utahime begins her song and dance. Despite it all, her steps are light and graceful. The song will give them away, but she can keep a barrier that will buy them some time.
I cannot fail now.
I already lost him.
No, not after Shoko.
Not after the students.
Everyone who has gone.
A crash rumbles near the basement.
Utahime sets the stage, and sings. Her voice desperately searches for the sound that reverberates the ancient, cursed energy long dormant in the tantou.
Please.
Her desperation belies her song. Her steps are weighed down by urgency.
Please.
Her soul sings.
There!
She gives it her all. Everything led to this moment. She will not fail now. She will succeed. Nothing is more important than this.
For Kei, she will damn it all.
Space and time be damned.
A shadow looms from the darkness.
“The game is up.”
Instinct buys her time to cover Kei.
Utahime takes the explosive blast of cursed energy. Wind is knocked out of her lungs. Her vision is shrouded black; her ears are ringing, but the barrier holds. Utahime tries to bring back her breathing and tastes iron on her tongue. She scrambles to her hands.
My son.
However, their opponents mercilessly do not relent. With no time for even the dust to settle, she is taken by surprise by a barrage of small blades being hurled by a curse at her. They are not imbued with cursed energy, and slip right through her barrier.
The game is indeed over.
“Oh, my, my. You should have made wiser choices.” A voice mocks beyond the barrier.
Spurts of blood rapidly rise to her throat as blades pierce through her back. Pain licks her skin as the cuts rip flesh. The onslaught is relentless, but she keeps herself squarely in front of her child. Her blood is starting to pool around them, soaking the tatters of Utahime's clothes. With her life force and cursed energy slipping, she pours every bit of strength and willpower she has left into channeling them into the cursed blade.
Please. Almost there.
Panic and worry clouds the child’s eyes, realizing the danger they were in. “Kaa-chan,” the boy starts to cry, absolutely terrified and uncertain. The only thing beyond doubt is his mother’s pain.
Utahime tenderly holds Kei’s cheeks then covers his ears. She holds his gaze one last time.
For a moment, they shimmer blue, reminiscent of bright summer skies, of warm laughter, of a love lost and a life found.
Kei, my sweet boy.
She breathes and sings once more. The note dies on her lips as she grasps the cursed blade.
Be safe.
Utahime plunges the blade into the pool of her blood.
I love you.
And he is gone.