Dreamer Awakened

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

            The sun was setting, Midori noticed as she stood in front of the make-shift lab in her brother’s kitchen.  He would be getting restless, now.  He always did when the sun started to go down she thought, tiredly.  She wondered who he was for the hundredth time as she stirred the chemical contents of the glass bowl being heated over a pan of water on the gas stove, and wondered too, if she was doing the wrong thing by not telling the people at the Science and Experiment Department. 

Midori knew he was Aragami and that she should probably tell someone, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it while he was so helpless.  She pushed her disquieting thoughts aside and rubbed her neck, her eyes drawn to the mahagony wood of the floor.  The identity of the man with dark hair was temporarily forgotten as she stared down at it.  It gleamed flawlessly, except for one large, barren spot right in the middle. 

Perhaps if she squinched up her eyes, it wouldn’t look so back.  Midori tried it, and then heaved a hopeless sigh.    It was no use.  Oh, boy, she thought.  She had totally ruined it, and, Yuji was not going to be happy with her when he finally came home and saw the huge chemical burn she had made when she had accidentally dropped a beaker full of acid wash yesterday. 

The sad thing was that she had worked extra hard to keep his house clean, so that he wouldn’t have to know that she had even been here.  Every other part of the house looked flawless.  But this, Midori thought, staring morosely down at the scarred wood, there was no way she could hide this. – Maybe she could buy a rug! – but no, that was no good.  Yuji would just wonder why a strange rug was lying in his kitchen and remove it anyway.  Feeling even more downhearted than ever, she pushed her thoughts away.  She would think about it later, she told herself

Midori turned the heat to the stove off and left the finished solution to cool.  She wouldn’t be able to use the new solution until tomorrow, but she still had enough left in her medicinal flask for tonight, and tomorrow, so it didn’t really matter.  But she believed in being prepared, so she had made this batch in advance.  A feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach as she moved around the kitchen and gathered up her medical supplies.  Time to treat the patient, she thought determinedly.

Midori crept towards the spare bedroom that her brother used as her room when she came to see him and peeked inside.  The bed was too small for him, but she had put him in here because this room received the most sunlight during the day, and she had thought that perhaps that would help his body to recover quicker.  Just as she had feared, he was thrashing restlessly, his long arms and legs making the bed look even smaller. 

Midori moved soundlessly into the room, putting her things on the floor next to the bed and reached out to try and quiet his movements to keep him from rolling onto the floor.  The dark-haired stranger shifted restlessly.  He flung his arm out and she grabbed it to try and anchor him in place, marveling as always at how human he felt to her touch. 

It was like wrestling a squid, she thought in exasperation as she grappled with him.  He   always seemed to have more arms than she did, and she tried to keep her aggravation from showing as she murmured softly to him, trying to calm his restiveness.  After a few minutes of push and pull, her words of comfort seemed to affect him, for he quit struggling so hard, and Midori was able to let him go.  She slumped with relief, pushing from her flushed cheeks the thick strands of dark brown hair that had gathered there during her struggle with the dark haired stranger.

Drawing in a deep breath to help collect herself, Midori bent down and picked up a piece of gauze and applied the solution from the flask to it.  Leaning forward, she pushed aside the robe that she had managed to put on him and began to lightly swab his chest.  She was so immersed in what she was doing that she almost cried out when she felt his long fingers snake out and catch her wrist in a cruel grip, holding her hand immobile from its task.

 

Murakumo felt pain tugging at his consciousness, pulling him from the oblivion of darkness and into the bright flames that seemed to be searing his chest.  He opened his grey eyes, seeing nothing but blurred shapes in the dimness of the light, and felt a grimace twist his face.  What was that god-awful smell?  Slowly the room came into focus and he saw the shiny, dark hair of a human girl bent over him, her hand hovering over the spot in his chest where the fires raged. 

What the hell did she think she was doing, he thought, reaching up to grab her hand, his grey eyes pinned coldly to the crown of her head.

His touch was unexpected and she turned and looked at him with startled eyes, her mouth slightly agape.  Murakumo continued to stare coldly at her and was baffled when she smiled at him, her brown eyes sliding happily over him. 

“You’re finally awake!” she murmured delightedly.

“Oh.  It’s you,” Murakumo said, letting go of her wrist as his eyes flitted dismissively over her nondescript features and big brown eyes, and he recognized her as the girl from the iwatto.

“My name’s Midori,” she told him quietly after he released her, leaning back and rubbing at the red marks his fingers had left on her wrist.

Murakumo ignored her for the moment and let his gaze wonder around the room, instead.  “Where am I and how did I get here?” he demanded imperiously.

“I’ll answer your questions, if you answer one of mine first,” Midori bargained and remained unaffected when he scowled at her.

How dare she dictate to him?!  The insolence of her attitude infuriated him, but there was little he could do about it in his current condition.

“What is it you want to know, human?” he asked her sullenly, his pique growing at the smile of satisfaction that spread across her face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“I am called, Murakumo,” he informed her coolly, looking away from her and then added, “and now that I have fulfilled your request, tell me what I want to know.  Where am I and how did I get here?”

Murakumo, Midori thought.  What a noble sounding name.  She burned to ask him even more questions, but knew better, so she did her best to answer his.

“You’re in Ise, at my brother’s house,” she told him.  “My brother’s out of the country on business and this is the only place I could think to bring you.”

Murakumo’s eyes flitted back to her then, and he looked disbelievingly at her slight figure, “You brought me here?” 

Impossible, he thought, but she nodded her head, and he continued to stare at her.

“You?!  Brought me here?!” he reiterated incredulously knowing that if he were able to stand, he would tower over her by at least a foot.

“Well, yes,” she replied diffidently,  It felt like he was calling her a liar.  “But you did help some.”

“I did?” he asked, his dark brows soaring over his steel grey eyes.

“Don’t you remember?” she asked, eyeing him uncertainly.

“Not particularly,” he replied faintly, shifting uncomfortably in the small bed, and felt pain rip through his chest. 

He let out a strangled cry and Midori bent over him in immediate concern.

“Try not to move,” she urged him as the pain began to recede a bit and he lay panting heavily, feeling drained.

His vision started going in and out of focus, and he watched Midori reach down and pick up a piece of gauze, bringing it close to his chest.  Murakumo immediately recoiled from her, striking her hand away as the noxious smell reached his nose and he paid for his actions with another bought of pain. 

What was wrong with him?  Had this pathetic human been poisoning him, with that foul smelling potion?  He should kill her now and be done with it.  He had no time for human schemes, knowing that there was much he must do to reclaim his kingdom.  He tried to sit up, tried to draw his blade, but he couldn’t, his efforts causing such a haze of pain that he felt like his chest was being ripped apart. 

“What have you done to me?” he demanded weakly, his eyes staring accusingly at her as he realized he was on the verge of passing out.

Midori gave him a bewildered look.  “I haven’t done anything, except try to help you.”

“That’s a lie!” he retorted harshly, his voice raw with pain.  He struggled to maintain consciousness, as he put his hand to his chest, “you have been poisoning me!”

Midori looked shocked, and she didn’t know what to say.  The first words she thought of inadvertently popped out of her mouth.

“What an idiotic thing to say!” she reprimanded him, seeing his eyes widen first in shock and then in fury, but she didn’t care.  “Do you really think that I would have dragged your butt all the way back here if all I wanted to do was poison you?  That’s utterly ridiculous!!  If I were trying to kill you, it would have been easier to leave you at the iwatto and let you bleed to death!”

“Why you little bitch!” he hissed, his hand shooting out and grabbing her by the neck.  He dragged her down so her face was just inches from his, his grey eyes boring into her brown ones.  “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” he asked her in a softly menacing way, his hand trembling from the effort of holding onto her.

Midori didn’t say anything, her mouth thinning into a mutinous line.  He was trying to intimidate her, she thought, as she met his gaze unflinching.  But it wasn’t going to work, she decided, her own temper flaring at his attitude.  She had worked too hard to help him to be treated like this.

“I am the king of Aragami,” he declared arrogantly when she didn’t say anything, and finally let her go, too weak to hold her anymore.

Finally free, Midori slowly stood up, but kept her gaze locked with his, her eyes sparkling with anger.  “How nice for you,” she told him tartly, “maybe you could start acting like it then and show a little refinement.  I’ve seen better manners from a garbage collector.”

            Murakumo’s face twisted with fury and he reached out and grabbed her again, but this time, he lacked the strength to hold onto her, letting her go almost immediately as his vision darkened. 

            Midori watched as Murakumo’s hand slid away from her and his eyes fluttered closed.  In seconds he was unconscious again, but she continued to stand there and stare defiantly at him for a minute more.  Then with a deep sigh, she picked up the cotton and finished what she came to do, her hands gentle despite her desire to thump him hard in the head.

            “There, you ungrateful wretch, “ she muttered to him even though he couldn’t hear her.  “And the next time you open your eyes, I hope you at least have the decency to ask a few pertinent questions before you start flinging accusations at me!” 

            She glowered down at his unconscious face, and then with a loud snort, collected her things and left the room.

 

            “Are you sure you’re feeling all right, Momiji?”  Mr. Kunikida asked anxiously.

            “I’m fine,” she responded, looking down at the table to avoid his gaze, “really.”

She, Kusanagi, and Sakura had returned to Izumo and were at a local restaurant where they had arranged to meet Mr. Kunikida before they had left Takachiho.  Kusanagi had driven back, and Momiji had sat in the back seat with her eyes closed the whole way to avoid any questions.  She really did feel better than she had at the iwatto, but she couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

            “So,” Mr. Kunikida recounted, “what you’re telling me is that these new Aragami aren’t Aragami at all, but something called Tengugaki?”

            Kusanagi nodded his head.

“And that they are after a…child,” Mr. Kunikida reiterated.

Kusanagi’s gaze slid to Momiji before he answered.  “That’s what we think – “

“That’s not what we think,” Sakura rudely cut in, “that’s what Momiji thinks! And just how would she know, anyway?”

“Shut up, Sakura !”  Kusanagi ordered impatiently, “you know as well as I do how Tamanasu reacted when Momiji told him he wouldn’t find who he was looking for.”

Sakura’s lips compressed into a thin line, and her crimson eyes burned resentfully as they rested on Momiji, who was still staring uncomfortably at the table.

“All right,” she conceded, ungraciously, “so Momiji knew he was looking for someone.  But what I want to know, is how Momiji knew that he was looking for someone.”

Here it comes, Momiji thought, tensing up at Sakura’s words.  She had been dreading this ever since they left the iwatto, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to dodge the questions any longer.  But the problem was she still didn’t think she should tell them about Susano-oh. She knew it was ridiculous to hide it, but somehow it felt…wrong to divulge how she knew.

“Momiji is the Kushinada,” Kusanagi replied, looking down his nose at Sakura, “there are a lot of things that she knows without having to be told, Faith Healer.  Why don’t you just accept that your powers of perception aren’t in the same league as hers?”

Momiji’s eyes widened and she tried to hide her surprise, knowing that what Kusanagi had said, he had said to protect her from Sakura’s probing question.

Sakura stiffened at Kusanagi’s insult, just as he had intended, her eyes shooting daggers at him.  “I’ll have you know, I am at the top of my field – “

“Spare us,” Kusanagi cut in impatiently, rolling his eyes, “I think we all know by now how great you think you are.”

Sakura leaned forward and growled at Kusanagi, but Kunikida intervened at this point trying to keep the fight from escalating.  “That’s enough, you two,” he barked, and then when they lapsed into silence, added more calmly, “is there anything else I should know?”

“You mean about the iwatto?”  Momiji asked, responding after realizing that Sakura and Kusanagi were too busy throwing each other dirty looks to be of any use in the conversation.  Mr. Kunikida nodded, and so Momiji told him about the aura of sadness that she and Sakura had felt outside the iwatto.

“Hmmm.  I wonder if that has anything to do with what Ms. Matsudaira was saying about the high levels of particle ionization?”  He speculated. 

Momiji was about to respond when his phone rang.  It was Ryoko so he excused himself from the conversation for a moment.

Momiji listened to the one-sided discussion, intently watching Mr. Kunikida.  Near the end, his grave demeanor gave way to shock, and all the color drained out of his face as he said, “Dear god! - are you sure, Ryoko?” and then after a pause, “have you searched the area?  I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Momiji waited with baited breath for him to finish his conversation, and even Kusanagi and Sakura had stopped shooting each other hostile looks, waiting and wondering just what it was that Ryoko had said to him.

“What is it?”  Momiji asked, apprehensively, “is it Midori?”

Mr. Kunikida hesitated, and his eyes sympathetic when he said, “I’m sorry Momiji, but Midori has gone missing.  Ryoko and Kome found her things inside the iwatto, and they also found the decapitated body of another Tengugaki.”

“There’s no way that Midori could be responsible for such a thing,” Kusanagi observed.

Mr. Kunikida nodded his head.  “Unfortunately, you’re right about that.  An Aragami did it.”

There was a long silence into which Kusanagi slowly replied, “You mean another Tengugaki, don’t you?”

“No,” Mr. Kunikida replied heavily, “I mean Aragami.  They found a copious amount of green blood inside the iwatto as well.  Ryoko thinks that the Aragami slew the Tengugaki and took Midori as well.”

“No!” Momiji cried, her distress drowning out Kusanagi’s violent cursing, but just barely.  “That can’t be!” she protested in a tight voice, balling up her fists on top of the table

“I’m sorry, Momiji,” Mr. Kunikida apologized again, “we’ll do everything we can to find her.  I promise.”  He stood up then his gaze sweeping over all of them.  “I’m not sure what this means - how the Aragami could have re-awoken, but I’m relying on you all to work together as a team.”  He paused and looked meaningfully from Sakura to Kusanagi. “If we’re to have any hope of defeating both the Aragami and the Tengugaki, then you’re going to have to learn to get along.” 

Neither one of them said anything and  Mr. Kunikida didn’t waste any more words on the issue, telling them he would be in touch as soon as he had some new information.  And then he was gone.

“Well, I’m outta here,” Sakura said with a shrug a few minutes later, rising to her feet as well.   “I have a big date tonight and I sure as hell can’t go like this.  Surely you and Carrot Boy can handle things on your own until some time tomorrow afternoon?” she said to Momiji and continued without waiting for a reply, “If you have an emergency between now and then, try not to call me.  It’ll only mess things up.  Ta-ta,” she told them dampeningly and then she was gone too.

Momiji turned to look at Kusanagi then and found his eyes pinned to her in an unnerving fashion.

“It was Susano-oh, wasn’t it, Momiji,” he wanted to know without preamble, “that’s how you knew about the child, isn’t it?”

Feeling conscience-stricken, Momiji looked down at her hands and nodded.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, and Momiji could feel Kusanagis displeasure with her.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Momiji?” he asked her, and she flinched at the coldness of his voice.  “How am I supposed to protect you if you don’t tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” she replied miserably, biting her lip her contrite gaze coming back to rest on him.

“Is there anything else that you know that you’re not telling me?” Kusanagi demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her intently.

Bind yourself to Kusanagi…he is your destiny…

Momiji’s face turned red and she looked away, but not before she saw the flash of anger and suspicion in Kusanagi’s cat-like eyes.

“There is something else, isn’t there, Momiji,” he pressed relentlessly. 

Momiji turned her shoulder to him and mutely shook her head, but he was having none of that.  He grabbed her by the arm and with his other hand, wrapped his fingers around her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“What are you not telling me, Momiji?” he demanded, his scrutiny of her expression ruthless as he tightened his fingers on her chin when she tried to pull away, “is it the Aragami?  Did Susano-oh tell you that he was going to reawaken the Aragami?”

“No!” Momiji replied defensively.  She raised her hand to pry his fingers loose and  twisted free of his grasp, but didn’t look away from him, “no, Kusanagi, I swear that Susano-oh never said anything about the Aragami.  Technically, he didn’t even tell me about the child,” she informed him, “I saw the child in a vision I had at the iwatto before the Tengugaki attacked me.

“Well, then what is it that you’re holding back?”

“I- I-‘m not holding anything back,” Momiji stuttered, her words belying the tide of color rising in her face, “at least nothing to do with the Tengugaki or the Aragami, or the child.”

“What is it then?” he demanded losing patience with her excessive reticence

“I can’t tell you!” she finally blurted out squirming uncomfortably, “it’s nothing important, Kusanagi.  He just promised me that…things would work out.”  Kusanagi gave her a disbelieving look and so she added, “really, that was all it was! - nothing more - nothing important.”

Kusanagi remained silent, for a minute more and then he abruptly stood up, leaving her sitting alone at the table.

“Kusanagi!” Momiji called, scrambling to catch up with him, “Kusanagi, please don’t be mad,” she pleaded, looking up at him as she trotted alongside him to keep up with him.

Kusanagi thrust his hands in his pockets and snorted.  Then a smirk tipped the corners of his mouth and he gave her a significant look.  “I don’t get mad, Princess,” he informed her with a glint, “I get even.  You’d do well to remember that.”

 

Hikaru stumbled and fell to her knees, a low moan swelling from her throat as another strong pain gripped her around the middle.  She remained crouched over even after the pain rolled away.  Her moonbeam like hair was plastered to her head from perspiration and it hung lankly down her back.  Defeat was written in every line of her body and despair dulled her violet eyes.  Kaede called to her, but she remained unheeding, sitting listlessly slumped over.

“Please, my lord,” Kaede begged from the darkness, her heart torn in pity for the fate of this one lost child, “we must do something – I must do something,” she cried, “she is not going to make it if I cannot help her.”  Her husband did not reply and she closed her eyes tight, thick tears clogging her throat at his rejection.

“There is one way, my sweet,” Susano-oh told her slowly and against his better judgement. 

Kaede opened her eyes and turning eagerly to stare up into his face as she felt him place his hand on her shoulder.  She put her fingers up and warmly squeezed his, her smile loving as she murmured, “I am willing to do anything.”

“Kaede.  It is very dangerous,” he informed her gravely, not returning her smile, “it puts your soul at risk, and I would not have you do such a thing – “

“Please!”  She turned and laid her face against his shoulder, closing her eyes as his arms encircled her.  “Please, my lord,” she entreated again, “I know that we cannot save her, but please let me help her until it is finished.  She doesn’t deserve to be treated so cruelly, to be left to bear this child alone, forsaken by all…” her voice became tight and she pressed her face against him, drawing strength from his presence.  “If it were me, would you have me bear such a burden alone?”

“No,” he finally said, his arms squeezing her tightly before he loosened them to hold her away from his body so that he might look into her face, “but if I allow you this, Kaede, you must promise not to expose your soul to the Tengugaki.  You must promise to return to me.”

Kaede gave him a luminous smile, her fingers caressing his cheek, “My place is with you, my lord.  I will never forget that.”

His hands slid up and cupped her face, his thumbs tracing the contours of her lips.  “Then I will not deny you this,” he told her softly as he bent to place a lingering kiss upon her mouth. 

His hand slid downward from her face, coming to rest over her heart, and a brilliant light began to shine between them where he touched her.  Kaede could feel the strength of his power coursing through her, a crystalline wave overwhelming her with its purity and brilliance as it surged into her, making her limbs feel heavy and her head spin.  Susano-oh held onto her tightly, his lips increasing their pressure, not wanting to let her go.  But even as he kissed her, he could feel her slipping away from him, away from the shapelessness of unborn dreams and into the light. 

As Kaede faded from his side, she coalesced into solidness next to Hikaru, her head thrown back and her eyes closed, a brilliant light emanating from her chest.  The glow of light waned, converging into a shimmering, crystal mitama centered over her heart.  Kaede opened her eyes, feeling strangely heavy and looked down at her corporeal body. 

“Remember your promise, my love, and guard well your mitama from the Tengugaki for it contains your soul.  Now make haste, so that you may return to me.”

Kaede heard the words in her head as if they were her own thoughts, and she felt a pain constrict around her heart as she realized that with her decision she had well and truly severed her bond with Susano-oh.  She pushed her own pain aside though when she heard the quiet sobs of the huddled figure on the ground next to her and she crouched down and put a soft hand on Hikaru’s shoulder.

Startled, Hikaru turned her streaming eyes to Kaede’s sweet smile.

“It’s all right,” Kaede soothed, brushing the hair away from Hikaru’s temple, “you’re not alone any more.”

“Y-you’re the one I’ve been hearing aren’t you?”  Hikaru hiccupped, drinking in the kindness of Kaede’s face and touch like a thirsty child.

“Yes,” Kaede replied, drawing Hikaru’s arm around her own shoulders and helping her to her feet, her arm encircling Hikaru’s waist to keep her upright.  “my name is Kaede, and I promise that I will stay with you as long as you need me.  It’s not far now, Hikaru,” she urged her, taking a small step forward, “just a little farther, and you can rest.”

They began to move forward, stopping when the labor pains gripped Hikaru and she was incapable of moving.   Their progress was slow, and Kaede kept looking back over her shoulder, sensing danger closing in.  It was true that they weren’t far from the iwatto now, but Kaede wondered if they would be able to reach it in time.

“My lord,” she murmured under her breath, “even with my help, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough.  Please help us.”

As she whispered the words, she felt the wind pick up, a gust blowing her hair away from her face.

“Kaede,” Hikaru panted weakly, drawing Kaede’s attention to her, “will you promise me something?”

“What is it?”

“Promise me that no matter what happens to me, you will take care of my baby,” Hikaru begged, and Kaede could see from the look in her eyes, that she was aware of her own frailty.

“I cannot,” came Kaede’s troubled reply, her arm tightening around Hikaru’s waist, “I must return to my place when you no longer need me, Hikaru.  But I promise that before that happens I will see your child safely to one who is aware of his coming.  You need not fear for him, for he will be well loved and protected by the lives of others.” 

Hikaru swallowed hard.  “Thank you, Kaede.”

She took shuffling steps on trembling legs, moving inexorably foward in the waning light of the afternoon, leaning heavily upon the dark haired woman at her side.  Fatalistically, she accepted whatever destiny held in store for her, now that she knew her baby would be safe.  She was tired, she thought.  More tired than her seventeen years, and she wanted badly to rest; but not until she had held her child in her arms at least once.  Just once, so that she could feel the presence of Tsurugi once more, and see with her own eyes the miracle of life that her union with him had created.

 

Matsu leaned back and rubbed her eyes before resuming her position of staring down at the plate under the microscope.

“I think I’ve isolated the right one this time,” she murmured to Yaegashi, carefully taking a sample from the plate she was looking at and transferring it to another slide for computer analysis.

Yaegashi’s hands paused over his keyboard and he swiveled around to look at Matsu’s form, swathed in a white lab coat stooping over the table. 

“That’s great!” he started to say, but was interrupted by her loud outburst.

“Damn!”  She pulled back, her hands fisting at her sides and stomped her foot.

“Not the right one?” he asked sympathetically with a raised eyebrow. 

He pushed up his glasses and watched her turn on her heel and storm ill-temperedly away from the table, moving over to the window to stare crossly out at the gathering clouds.

“No, dammit!” she cried in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a protein chain encoded so complicatedly before.  I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to find the right isotope, but at the rate I’m going it’ll be weeks!”

Yaegashi nodded his head towards his computer screen.  “Well at least we have this to work with in the meantime.  Using these radio isotopes, we can devise a device that will track the Tengugaki within a five mile radius once they are above ground.”

Matsu looked over at him and sighed.  “I know, Yaegashi, but it’s not good enough.”  She came to stand behind him and looked down at the equation on his computer screen.  “These will only work on those Tengugaki that have claimed a victim, because they come from the genetic code of the victims themselves.  That means, in order to track them, we have to have a victim to start with.  Why should we have to sacrifice even one life before we can track these horrible creatures down!?  I won’t accept that – I can’t accept that!” she exclaimed in agitation, spinning away and returning to her lab equipment .

“I’m not saying this is the solution,” Yaegashi replied, “but until you can isolate the correct radio isotope, this is better than nothing.”

“Tell that to the people whose lives are in danger,” Matsu muttered under her breath, too low for Yaegashi to hear. 

She knew he was just trying to make her feel better, but she wasn’t going to feel better until she had devised a system that would stop the human bloodshed.  More determined than ever, she prepared another slide and began her meticulous search for the key that would allow them to track the Tengugaki before they struck.

 

Tamanasu stopped, his body quivering with anticipation.  He turned his head to the right, his red-slitted eyes staring off between the trees.  The scent hung strong in the air, he could smell the sweet vitality of it and a horrible smile transfigured his face.  The child was not far now.  He was closing in, and soon, the prize would be in his possession. 

He would return, victorious to his lord, Akumakai, bringing with him, the catalyst for their ascension to the Overworld.  And then all the Tengugaki would shed the shackles that held them in the Withered Kingdom and feast upon the bright souls here, absorbing them until they were less than the shadowed wraiths that wandered the Road of Death.  Both the humans and the Aragami would fall beneath their power, and with the rise of Lord Akumakai even their gods would be subjugated as well.  Domination, power, annihilation.  It was all within his grasp now.

His thoughts spurred him on and, he morphed his body, his legs becoming thicker and shorter and his arms becoming powerful forelegs so that he could cover more ground in a quicker period of time.  With renewed excitement, he began moving forward again, only to stop a few minutes later, when he was unable to maintain his current form. 

He needed energy if he was to pursue the child and his mother without losing their trail.  He looked around, feeling for the closest flow of energy and turned his body to the south.  There, he thought.  It was not a strong current, but it would have to do.  Changing his course, he burrowed underground and began to stalk his victim.

It was an old woman, he realized as he emerged quietly behind her, watching as she hung her laundry out to dry.  It would be an easy kill for him, but her energy would not sustain him for long.  He would wait, though; wait for her to turn and see him, for a human’s terror was almost as satisfying to him as the flow of a human soul.  And with this one, it would be even more satisfying, because her life stream was a mere trickle.  Her soul would offer him little satisfaction since her life’s journey was almost at its natural end, and so he would savor the taste of her terror instead

He approached her quietly, flexing his fingers so his claws became even longer, their sharp points taking on the shape of a curving blade.  He stopped just a few feet from her, his shadow falling across the ground as she bent to pick up another piece of laundry from her basket.  She turned then, her cloudy brown eyes staring up at him in disbelief.

She straightened and took a step away from him, and he smiled his twisted smile, feeling the terror well up inside of her and savoring its flavor.

“What are you?” her voice quavered.

“I am your reckoning,” he hissed at her and took a menacing step towards her. 

She tried to run then and he laughed, and let her go, enjoying the game of toying with her.  She had almost made it to the back door of her house when he let out a roar and leapt forward, landing between her and sanctuary.  He smiled again, his bared fangs dripping saliva as he longed to sink his teeth into her flesh and feed from her energy stream. 

She knew she was going to die, knew that he would not let her escape.  He could see it in her cloudy eyes, and his pleasure dimmed somewhat at the resignation that registered there.  This one was too old to die properly, he thought to himself.  She would miss life, but not like one who had only just begun life’s journey.  This old woman’s regrets were small ones, and that did not satisfy him.  He stopped smiling and raised his claws.

He should try to kill her slowly; to enjoy her pain.  But there was a danger in that the meagerness of her life stream might abruptly cease upon his first strike and end his chance to absorb what little energy it had to offer him, so he could not even take pleasure in the kill.  His hand shot out and her grabbed her by the head, lifting her off her feet and raising her above the ground so that she dangled helplessly in front of him.

“Be thankful that Fate has kindly awarded you a swift death, old woman,” he hissed at her as the mitama on his forehead began to glow red and he felt the pulse of her life energy slide through his veins. 

It was over too soon and her energy did little to renew him.  Angered at the meagerness of her spirit, he left her with just enough energy so that she could feel the blow of death as he sank his claws into the wall of her chest.

“Pathetic human,” he sneered as her warm blood cascaded down his mottled flesh, and she refused to cry out, “you were not even worth the effort,” he told her as the light died from her eyes and he bent his head, his tongue slithering out to taste the blood that streamed down his wrist and arms.

He threw her lifeless body to the ground and ripped into her then.  Her spirit might be too weak to fuel his mitama, but at least her body would help to restore some of his physical strength.  Done at last he turned and left her, still seething at the waste of effort she had been.  Her flesh might have restored his strength for now, but It would fade quickly, unless he found another human with a stronger life stream to feed from since his main source of energy was stored in his mitama. 

A cold wind began to blow, chilling his sensitive skin and he looked up at the sky.  The clouds were roiling up, becoming dark and thick; the direct work of Lord Susano-oh, he surmised.  Tamanasu could not travel above ground for long periods in the cold.  It wasted too much of his energy and the god of Storms was very aware of that fact.  His anger increased as the wind bit into him again.

“You think to stop me this way?” he asked in soft disdain, “your worthless tricks serve only to fuel my determination.  I will find more energy, and I will claim the child.  And then, Susano-oh you will bow down to my lord, Akumakai.”

Tamanasu reoriented himself, searching for the scent of the child and upon finding it, set off again, ignoring the cutting wind for now.  He could not travel above ground much longer in the dropping temperature, so he must quickly locate more energy while maintaining the trail of the child.  He could do it.  He was determined to show the gods that they were no match for the Tengugaki.