From death, to you

Rain……to some it is the symbol of life.  A gift brought down from the heavens promising continued growth.  It brings promises of washing away pain, washing away the dirt and grime the world leaves upon us.  Yes to some rain is truly the blessing of the heavens.  As Asahi Yagami sat near his window he reflected on these ideas.  Though he could see the practical validity that they had, whenever he saw rain it reminded him of tears.  The heavens sorrow, the sorrow others give of themselves so others may grow.  There was no argument in his mind to dissuade him from these thoughts.  So at this time, his blue eyes watched the rain, and down his cheek his own personal rain fell.  

The time after Yamato’s experiment had not been easy on the Yagami cousin.  What had been the promise of a simple experimentation had gone horribly wrong.  He’d not sought out his friend yet, though days had passed.  He’d answered the calls from him and Hikari who had been by to examine him.  Making sure he was fit as a fiddle, and through numerous tests all of these returned without great consequence.  His body was healed, his heart beat strongly.  Though he was still stiff, his spiritual energy drained from his journey, all roads pointed to he was mending.  The networks slowly knitting back into place.  His muscles were sore and weak, they lacked the tone and strength they had when he’d walked into that apartment.  A side effect of the medical jutsu that Hikari had utilized to revive him.  All was well or on its way to being well in his body.  Though, the source of rain had nothing to do with his body, but rather a storm of the mind.  

During the sunlit days he could forget the things he saw.  The bright lights chased away shadows, and allowed the Yagami to put on his mask.  He had taken a week off from the tea shop, though he still spent the afternoons within its confines.  Weaker, his stamina deleted, he sat comfortably and reviewed forms.  Offering advice and examining menus.  He coordinated dishes and tea ceremonies, which gave him the distraction he craved.  Yet these times did not last forever.  The days would move on, and the dark of night would seek to claim its dominion.  It was then, that the memories of that place would come back.  The chill of the night air reminiscent of that forest, the breeze a breath on his neck, the cold sweat the grazing of teeth and lather of saliva from monsters.  Now, even the day had opted to turn its back to his suffering……instead it only offered the rain.

His shirt was off, simple black hakama pants where all he wore.  Bare feet hanging as he sat on the ledge, his back against a wall, while his eyes were trained on the window.  Watching beads of water race to their inevitable absorption.  Like many things it reminded him of his death.  The race of souls to the other place…..their absorption into the forest.  What the Oni had wanted, what they had whispered in his ears rang loud and clear.  They spoke to him, they talked of his family, of his own deeds, deeds of the past and deeds of possible futures.  He’d left this place, and entered something different.  He remembered how close the food of the dead had been to his lips, and had he consumed even a single bite how he would have never been pulled from such a place.  He prided himself on being a spiritualists. Communing with the dead, helping them rest, exorcising them from locations, and praying to the kami.  All these things had given him much insight, and yet when it had come time to see he had no sight for what had come.  

He’d been sent to Yomi no kuni.  To a world of darkness, a Black Forest that went on forever.  A place where spirits simply roam and be, but never do.  For a soul like Asahi’s it was a place worse than a hell of torture.  He’d studied of such places.  There seemed to be an afterlife for every possible scenario one could imagine.  The theories of how you ended up to each were just as varied.  From concepts of traditional morality, unabashed marytrism, simple luck of the draw, and even more complicated theories that we decide our own afterlife based on what we believe we deserve. He’d studied each, and yet of all the places he could have imagined, he’d been sent to the proverbial last choice.  Even still, it was the presence of the Oni that had rattled him.  They did not belong in Yumi no kuni.  It was not their domain, not their place; and yet he’d seen them with his souls eyes.  

Oni being complex beings, they are often attributed as evil spirits.  The personification of cruel intent and evil will.  Yet, if one truly studied them, they would quickly find a more complex nature with driving motives that could not simply be brushed away as traditional evil.  If they held within the forest of the Yumi, then there was a reason.  He’d watched souls led away by the oni cloaked in shade rather than pelt.  He’d seen and heard the horrid things they said to entice the souls to consume their last meal.  It’s vexation had caused more than one panic attack, a condition he was not used to.  His room normally a tidy home had books and scrolls scattered across the floor.  Different pages opened on each.  Some had conjugations and symbology, or there physiology of the Oni, and still more with darkened images of a world without true light.  Once he was away from the bright and lively shop, his mind was consumed with the information he sought.  His pipe pressed against his lips, the embers within the bell died, and a last wisp of smoke floated towards the ceiling.  He hadn’t even noticed it was almost empty.

Coughing and spluttering Asahi dropped the kiseru that was in hand.  A mouthful of ash can do that to a person.  His lips moved to a thin line, as his hand now free moved to wipe his face. Rubbing his eyes, he moved back to the floor that held the reference materials he had been viewing.  Along all the debris of education was a large stack of white scrolls.  Next to the pile was a brush with a black tip, an ink tray closed next to it.  Days had passed, and they’d been put to work.  It was not his desire to traverse back to the land of darkness.  No that was something he hoped to never do, for he doubted he would survive another adventure there.  Be it the Oni, the food, or an unfortunate kami his luck would not hold out.  Instead he sought to do something unique.  Instead of traveling so far, he sought to invite a resident to his own home.  He’d heard her voice, it had been his grandmother who in that last second had stopped him.  If not for her, he would have joined those darkened woods.  Yet, even this opened new questions rather than brining new comforts.  Why was she there in the first place.

Perhaps it was simply denial, but he refused to believe that that place was the final resting place of all beings.  That each soul was destined to wander aimlessly once their time among the living had concluded.  It was with this denial that he doubted a spiritualist like his grandmother would have ended up in such a place.  Surely a woman of such profound understanding and knowledge would have found a way to end up elsewhere.  Someone kind would not be subjected to endless torment.  It simply did not sit right, and his aim was to hear it from the horses mouth.  To perform a seance and speak with her, something he had never tried before.  He’d always said he would let the spirits of his family remain in rest, but now, after what he’d seen it was time to break such a vow.   

Without stopping to understand if he should do it, he simply skipped to if he could.  Seances were simple enough.  A personal belonging of familiarity, a voice to call, the echoes operating as a tether between the spirit and the living.  Words and chants, open minds, talismans written on paper to defend and contain.  The process was nearly scientific with a bit of mysticism sprinkled in.  Normally sure you would have more people, split the spiritual load as it where, but even in his tired state he was sure he could perform the feat.  What came next was a process over several hours.  It was possible to simply purchase talismans, ones to ward off evil spirits, to bring fortune, these were simple enough to come by.  Yet, in a task such as this he had no room to trust in others.  Instead, with a steady hand he drew out each kanji on a fresh scroll.  Each stroke precisely drawn, the care of an artist in each word.  Calligraphy had long been a tenant of the samurai.  An art form to be studied and calm the mind.  To breed stability and clarity.  Both were things he needed now more than ever.  

As they tried, Asahi took great care to place them around the room.  At first it seemed at random, but as more and more were finished a pattern began to form.  An intricate lock of words, circling in and about itself.  A web of talismans, with a complicated route one could trace if they only knew what they were looking for.  Talismans inviting helpful spirits existed, surrounded by scrolls to ward off evil.  In total there were 77 talismans eventually placed about the room.  Redundancies abound, every place of weakness reinforced.  It was his words that would call to her, but it was not just her that may hear them.  No, if he was correct it was unlikely she was the only one to hear…..if the spirits lost in those woods could even hear.  It was better to build protection, to create a web of safety.  He had been too close once already, the idea of enduring it a second time was too much.  

The 77 talismans formed their circle of safety, and in the middle of the floor Asahi sat with a few instruments.  To his right and left incense bowls of herbs.  Agarwood, and others began to smoke gently as he lit the incense bowls.  The aromas quickly filling and cleansing the room.  He regretted that he’d left the kiseru where he had dropped it, but the complexity of the talisman layout prevented him from risking a venture form the circle.  In front of him a small hand held gong rested.  It held duel purpose, both to add resonance to his voice to the other place, but it had also been a keepsake of his grandmothers.  One of the few trinkets he’d grabbed and taken with him that night so long ago.  He could remember it’s deep tones despite its small size as his grandmother would pray.  Rubbing his chin and going over the words in his mind, his right hand absentmindedly touched just over his heart.  The touch of his own fingertips nearly made him jump, and looking down he saw the mark that now encircled his heart.  

He knew he was able to draw power from it, he’d experienced that first time he’d awoken, and had tried it once more since.  It was a horrid feeling, one he had not shared with Yamato.  It was his burden, his friend had done his best.  He did not blame Yamato for what had happened, as it had opened his mind to greater problems.  It was merely a scar, one that would heal given time.  At least that was the idea.  He was still shirtless,  but the heat of the room kept him comfortable as he removed his hand from the seal.  Best to stay focused on the task at hand.

With incense burning, and the singular strike of the gong, Asahi’s own voice fell into rythem with the reverberations.  His voice normally light and airy, had a much lower quality.  Speaking from his throat, his chant continued past the time when the gongs own noise had ceased.  Initially the words where familiar to him.  They danced across his lips like a lover after a long absence.  The words were a simple prayer, that extended into almost a retelling of a Kami often prayed to in the land of Iron.  The mixture of story telling and prayers permeated the room, the syllable floating through the air to mingle in with the incense smoke.  On and on the prayer went, moments passed by, then minutes, and the world seemed to melt away.  The practice was one of clearing the mind with familiarity along with prayer.  In this case, he hoped it would also bring luck.  The seance had not yet begun, but with the last syllable it was time.  A single candle was the last instrument he had within the circle, and upon lighting it, it was time to begin what his studies had shown.

The flame flickered in the candle, dancing with a wind only it seemed to feel.  It’s light was purely to help end the seance.  By the time the candle went out, the seance had to be concluded.  He hoped it would be.  Though he missed his grandmother, and the thought of giving her reprieve from that place was a boon, he still did not wish to pull from the Yumi any more than he had too.  The prospect of other things creeping inside his conversation was all to possible.  His time creating and performing seances was limited.  It was not something that he had specifically studied, but rather had dabbled.  He’d only seen one go wrong and even then his grandmother had simply blown out the candle and had each member stay together until time had passed.  Back then it had seemed silly, but now he wondered what would have happened had any of them broken the circle.  Now that he was in charge, it seemed better not to find our, or dwell on it too much.  

Taking a deep breath, he struck the small instrument again, his words once again reaching out into the ether along with the noise.  The words where not as familiar, but they were practiced.  They had been practiced in the light of day, into tea cups with wafting aromas.  It felt different in the darkness, the lack of comforting objects.  Still his words were true, and his request stretched out.  Even as he beseeched his grandmother with her name, his minds eye watched the world pass by underneath him.  It was a familiar road one that he had been sent over upon his untimely demise.  It took him by surprise and unwillingly he felt his breaths come out quicker than he wanted.  The heat of the room moved from warm and comforting to sweltering.  Beads of sweat began to break out across his forehead and back, but still the words came.  They’ve ere repetitive, they asked by name for her spirit to come and speak with him, they asked that unwanted trespassers stay away and allow privacy.  The words backtracked upon themselves, just as the talismans around him did.  Every walk was built, the path was lined, now as the last word finished he waited to see if the call was answered.  

With the last summon, silence slowly filled the room.  As though the words were resistant to go where he bid they seemed to echo, delaying their journey to the world of darkness.  Eyes closed, he focused on his breathing working to slow down the quickened pace it had become.  Almost breathless he had barely finished the call before breathlessness took him.  He smirked for the first time in the day, poetic that he would become breathless in summoning someone who could not breath.  A small chuckle loosed his lips as he continued to think about that, ironic…..maybe the stress of the days had caught up to him finally.  Stifling the laughter a slight rustling snapped his blue eyes to the room around him.  The rustling started on the edge of the boundaries.  As though a slight breeze had become trapped beneath the papers.  Without realizing it he’d once again stopped breathing, as he followed its progress.  All around him corners moved, but then finally the breeze found an entrance, and the race began.  Like a hamster through a maze it loves following the path he had created.  Along the way other talismans moved and twisted as though entities had been caught in a web.  Some burnt around the edge, others discolored, but all remained.  The little breeze kept moving…….even as all around him the little light was sucked from the room.  

The heat was the next to go, shortly behind the light.  The sweat that had worked to cool his body now chilled him to the bone.  For a moment he could see his breath, the chill causing a shiver to run through his body.  Even as he was about to move his arms to warm himself, the cold was gone and the light was back.  He didn’t move, and instead looked about the room, but all was still.  1…..2…….3……4…….5 minutes passed.  The 6th was the longest, and just as he was about to stand the paper that marked the end of the talisman trail flipped over.  Even as it did a voice moved through the air, and he could feel the tears unbeckoned move down his cheeks.  “It’s been some time old lady….” He’d say looking into a mirror of his own eyes.  Death had not taken the shine from those blue eyes, even if the rest of her was pale nearly transparent.  For the first time in a long time, Asahi Yagami was looking into the face of his deceased grandmother.  The woman who had taught him all he knew about the world beyond the one they live in.

“It’s been a long time….”  Her voice held an ethereal tone, but that had been their in live.  No quavering of age, instead strong as it had been when he was a child.  “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though you’ve always been a little impatient.”  She waggled her finger at him in a disapproving way, though her mouth turned up in a smile.  A chuckle broke out of Asahi at the scold.  A weight that he hadn’t know he’d been carrying fell off.  For whatever else that would happen, he was pleased to be having this conversation.  “We don’t have much time, so pick up the pace!”  Her words crisp.  For her scoldings of him being impatient he’d learned them from her.  She had never shown an aptitude for waiting around when there were things to be done.  

“Sorry, it’s just….”  Tears filled his eyes for a moment, one’s he hadn’t even know where there.  

“None of that.  You have to ask the questions, you know that.  I taught you better than this, if you’d paid any attention.”  

“You’re right about that.  Though I wish I’d focused a bit more on this practical stuff.”  Taking a deep breath he gained some resolve.  Even as he did several of the talismans fluttered. As though unseen forces tested the waters on what they may break through.  “Why are you there?  Why are you in the Yumi….”  It was an obvious question, but he knew it was not the most important.  She may not even know, after all he’d been sent but did not know why.  Still it was the first question he had.  The first question that he wanted to know the answer too.  The dead when summoned are limited.  It was debatable if it was really even them, or if you were just speaking too an echo.  

“I don’t know….”  She said her voice uncertain.  “I wondered that for a time, but that forest has a way of making you forget…..to not worry about anything.”  She smiled but stopped talking.  The ritual preventing anything more than simple questions to be answered.  Even now her form seemed less solid than it had.  The sweat had returned to his brow and a dull ache was forming in his stomach.  The effort of seance beginning to pull on his spirit.  Normally the strain would not happen so quickly, but this was not a normal summon.  He could feel her prompting him, trying to help him, but limited.  

“What are the Oni doing with the souls?.”  His voice quavered a little, he knew it.  The tone was not as firm.  Had the effort been pulling on him more than her though?  He looked at her, and a sad look was on her face.  Quizzical, as though she wasn’t sure how to answer such a question.  Even as she contemplated her visage began to shimmer before coming back into focus.  The talismans around them ominously wavering from their varied positions.  

“I……can’t say…..I think it has something to do…..with our faces.”  Her voice was uncertain, yet Asahi believed what she said.  Confusion was a side effect, though as he looked at her closely something began to stir in his lizard brain.   Something that did not seem right.  He looked back and saw that familiar face, but perhaps just the glint of something else.  

“What was fathers name?”  He asked, his voice more Stoney than it had been.  His blue eyes looked into the blue of hers.  Nearly identical they peered.  A grin crossed the old woman’s face, because when she did not answer right away he knew he’d been tricked.  

“Why do you ask such silly questions, don’t you need to be getting on with your questions?  Ask me something important….”  The voice still quavered in and out as the image shivered.  Something wasn’t right.  He knew it now.  Knew that this wasn’t his grandmother, and as careful as his words had been, his line had not caught the correct spirit.  

“Who are you….”  He asked, voice almost a whisper.  The visage of the old women leaned forward.  A wicked grin spreading over its face.  

“I don’t think……..you want to hear the words.”  It took all his strength not to lean back.  Breaking the talismans around him.  He sat still, even as his heart began to thunder in his chest.  “But you will….one day soon.  You people here, tend to love to wear our faces, yet it scares you so when we return the favor.”  A ghostly hand moved forward and touched him in the center of the cursemark.  With it’s other hand it reached up, grabbing hold of the false chin.  In a slow deliberate move the face slid away, revealing the monster behind.  Gnashing crooked teeth, red skin, the Oni looked at him with eyes of fire.  

The syllabus of the words came.  The ending of the seance.  The creature frowned anger and confusion evident.  It’s fingers rushed forward, the ghost flesh easily piercing his corporeal form.  As it did the cursemark erupted out, spreading over his flesh.  Through the burning pain he shouted again, and a third time.  As the words finished the creature vanished like smoke in a hard wind.  Each talisman burst into a navy flame, the dark blue burning for an instant.  Then there was quite.  The ashes lay on the floor, and he knew he was alone.  The pain was not what it had been, and as he stood he looked down.  His flesh was a deep red, turning to the mirror, his hair had changed, flaming red with orange streaks, eyes a matching crimson,  his teeth sharper, his own looks not unlike a humanoid oni.  Then, the look retreated returning to the cursemark on his chest.

His consciousness stayed long enough to feel the violent wretch, and then there was peaceful darkness.  Before it totally gripped him a fleeting memory.  That of his real grandmother sitting with him.  They rested on the porch of her home looking into the night sky.  He could remember being lost in the darkness and it had been her to find him.  Through tears he listened after he’d confessed to being scared of the dark.  Her words soothing and calm….”Asahi, we have to long loved the night sky, the stars above to be fearful of the night.”   


(Exit)
TWC - 4092

4k towards mastering stage 2 of Curse Mark
92wc towards partial transformation

+38 to speed
+2 to chakra

Approved