Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Kazemaru and Miharu ❯ Chapter 29

Once, Miharu had mentioned to Kazemaru that she had felt the moment his jyaki had been removed from her by the unknowing priest. She even mused that it was the electric, almost alcoholic feel of his negative energy that had first attracted her to him, as unnatural as that might seem. Kazemaru had learned that if he focused, he too could sense Miharu in himself, a bright spot in the shadows that cloaked him, not in opposition, but rather throwing them into better contrast.

 

One morning, early in the third month, Kaze awoke to a profound sense of loss. It took him a moment, but with rising panic he realized that it was in fact her presence. To calm himself, he rationalized that some foolish holy human had repeated the mistake. But he also realized that as the child had grown within her, their connection had grown solid, and that in a way, it was no longer possible to separate their auras.

 

His heart pounding in a way that physical exertion had never made it bound, Kaze dressed with all the preternatural speed he possessed. He knew he could reach the palace faster if he went transformed, so he didn't bother with a shirt, and leapt from the mouth of his “bachelor” cave—which he had been sleeping in to avoid missing Miharu at night—as soon as he was halfway decent. He reached Kurihama in record time, but the palace seemed calm as ever. He watched it a moment, planning his approach, and he realized that in truth it was too calm. No one stirred outside, the guards were in well defensible positions, and did not speak, but watched the sky with a wary eye. He saw a servant dart out of a door and practically run to his destination, a building which was not connected to the one he was in.

 

Something was terribly wrong.

 

He quickly surmised that there was no point in being cautious, and that time was most important. Aiming for the room he knew to be Miharu's, he braced himself and made a quick dive, hoping to elude the guards' attention in his speed. He was not as lucky as he had hoped, and discovered a rank of guards hiding under the eaves surrounding Miharu's chambers. It was a surprising move, but he managed to dispatch the lot of them without taking any damage. Their presence alone indicated that they were not his allies any longer.

 

Once rid of the guards, he burst through the shoji, not even bothering to slide them open, it would just take too much time. He knocked over a screen and stalked across the empty room to the tented dais. Here, he hesitated for the first time, his hand stilled just before he opened the curtain and looked down.

 

There, laid out in her bed, paler than even he, was Miharu. She did not move. Kaze felt his legs slowly weaken, and he sunk to his knees, his wings brushing the wood floor behind him.

 

“Oh, my love…” he murmured, and he took her cold face into his hands, leaning his brow against hers. He lost all sense of time.

 

“Ka…ze…?” came a weak whisper, and he jumped as he felt her hand on his bare arm.

 

“Miharu?!” He lifted his head, incredulous. He had mistaken an exhausted, sickly sleep for something worse. He looked her over, and now noticed the small movement of her breast as she breathed, the tiny flicker of her eyelashes as she struggled to wake. “What happened?”

 

“I…got sick… so quickly…” she paused, her hand trying to raise to his face but failing. He took it up and placed it against his cheek, alarmed at how cold it was.

 

“The baby…” she began.

 

Kaze immediately noticed the significant reduction in size of her stomach, and panicked once more.

 

“…came early…. A girl…” a wistful smile tugged the corner of her mouth. “…sorry,” she apologized half-heartedly. “I… heard her cry… but they took her away…. Wouldn't let me hold her… too sick, they said.”

 

“I'll go find her,” Kaze said firmly. “And then, we'll leave.”

 

“Yes…” she agreed weakly. “I think that might be best….”

 

“Just… hang on, ok?” He put a hand tenderly to her face, and felt, more than saw, her tiny nod.

 

Before his resolve failed him, Kaze stood and turned to go. Where would they have taken his daughter? A cursory examination of the surrounding rooms found them abandoned, and he quickly surmised that he should look for another group of guards. He smiled mirthlessly. It had been a long time since he had been able to kill this openly.

 

He found the place without much trouble, a home temple of sorts. The guards didn't seem terribly motivated to follow their orders, and when he killed the first two without provocation, the rest simply ran away. He opened the heavy wooden doors to find a small altar and idol, inhabited by a lower Kami.

 

He approached the altar, and the small, darkly stained bundle on top of it. He reached out a hand to lift the fold covering what must be the face, but was stilled by a sudden force.

 

“ARE YOU THE ONE WHO ORDERED THIS ATROCITY?!” The Kami demanded, summoning the full force of his powers and actually visibly appearing in front of him. Kaze was taken aback a moment, but then remembered that humans were not the only beings who saw yokai as cold-hearted ruthless killers on the whole.

 

“No,” he said quietly, and his manner caused the Kami to pause and pull back a little. “No, this…” Kaze swallowed something dry and sharp in his throat. “This is my child.”

 

“Oh,” the Kami said, and the syllable was filled with pity and regret. He watched concernedly as Kaze pulled back the cloth covering the face, immediately wishing he hadn't.

 

“What… happened?” he asked hoarsely.

 

“I'm not sure. My range of awareness extends only a little bit outside this temple. When they brought the child to me, it was already dead. I thought they wanted me…” the Kami paused, himself overwhelmed. “It seemed to me the right thing would be to bring it back to life. It wasn't hard, she was healthy and had a strong spirit, what with you being her father, I suppose.” He sighed heavily. “By their reaction I realized I had done the wrong thing. I think they meant it as an offering. They took the child away, where I could not sense it, and brought it back, like this.”

 

Kaze stared at the mutilated body of his daughter, her features made indiscernible by a myriad of criss-crossing marks. He thought they looked like they might be words, but he couldn't make them out, they were so overlaid. A quick glance under the larger sheet revealed further horrors. “Can you… bring her back again?” Kaze asked, too afraid to hope.

 

“No…” the Kami said heavily. “She has been too damaged. There are … missing pieces…” he tried to be delicate. He watched Kaze stare at the lifeless body, feeling more powerless than he ever had. “Is there anything else I can do?”

 

“My mate… my wife… the mother… she…” Kaze choked a little. “She doesn't know. I can't bear for her to know.”

 

The Kami felt another wave of pity pass over him. “I can make the child look unharmed. Heal at least her external wounds, so she will at least look whole.”

 

Kaze nodded. “I would appreciate it.”

 

The Kami turned his focus to the helpless infant, knitting flesh back together and erasing the evidence of the humans' hatred. Once finished, he stepped back and allowed the distraught yokai to view his work.

 

Kaze lifted the stained sheet from the girl's now perfect body. He could see his heritage clearly: she had only three toes to each foot, as his when transformed, and a miniature pair of green wings graced her back. He thought, with a warped sense of optimism, that these things would not be so hard for her. A nice pair of Chinese shoes and the right Haori and obi and she would look almost normal.

 

A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. Well, and perhaps some black dye. Her hair was brilliant silver, as his, but wispy and fine, with a touch of curl. Her eyes, still open, were the same rich brown as Miharu's, and her face, though difficult to tell at this age, seemed to reflect the same round, delicate features. He took up one tiny, delicate hand, amazed at the miniscule fingernails, dwarfed even further against his transformed claws. “How can I repay you?” he asked, closing the lids over the sightless brown eyes.

 

“That is not necessary. The price shall be exacted from those responsible, I can assure you.”

 

Kazemaru nodded, and, removing a swath of white cloth from a side table, used it to wrap up the little lifeless bundle and left the temple. He returned, unharassed, to Miharu's side. He woke her again, and then suddenly didn't know how to tell her.

 

She opened her eyes enough to spy the bundle, and her face lit up a moment. It was too still, and she frowned a little. “Koishii… let me see her… I'm sure she's hungry…” she scolded.

 

“Miharu…” his voice cracked, and he shook his head. “I'm so sorry…”

 

Miharu's expression cracked, becoming blank and empty. “No…” With a sudden burst of energy, she reached up to take the bundle from him, and he didn't have the strength to stop her. “NO! No no no no no no…” she began a mantra of denial, rolling over onto the bundle, pressing it to her chest as if she could bring the girl back into herself, where she would be safe, alive.

 

“We have to go,” Kaze choked out. She didn't respond, so he just scooped her up into her arms, and left.

 

 

 

Once they reached the island, he chose a picturesque spot on top of the cliff, overlooking the beach. He set Miharu on the ground, and quickly pulled up a patch of earth of the proper size. He managed to pry the cold little bundle away from Miharu's weakened arms. They both looked on the child a moment, Miharu obsessively arranging the little white curls before she kissed her forehead.

 

Kaze mimicked the gesture, and pulled the cloth to cover her face. He put the bundle in the hole, and it seemed small, too small, even though he realized in some distant corner of his mind that she was larger than most human infants.

 

“We should give her a name.” Miharu said weakly.

 

“You're right.” Kaze thought a moment, names and faces of other yokai he had known flashing through his mind. None of them seemed to be right for her, for the young lady he imagined, a vision in white; white hair, white robes of the dead.

 

“Shiori,” he spoke, unsure where the name had come from. It wasn't an appropriate name for a living girl—bad luck—but it was perfect for her.

 

“Shiori,” Miharu echoed, watching as Kaze carefully filled the hole once more. She lay over the pile a moment, afterwards, while Kaze found a rock and inscribed the proper figures on it with his claw.

 

“Please forigive me…” Miharu whispered, and Kaze was unsure whether she spoke to Shiori or to him. She then passed from consciousness.

 

Kaze knew she was simply overwhelmed. He took her in his arms again, and brought her to their home. He laid her down on the bed, carefull to cover her well. She was so cold. He gave her hand a small squeeze and then stood to leave.

 

He was stopped by the sudden pressure on his hand, a strength he hadn't known she had in her. “Don't leave me koishii…” she whimpered.

 

He turned again and put a hand to her face. “I promise I won't be gone long.”

 

“Where…?” she begged.

 

“To kill them all,” he ground out. He could only hold off his anger a little longer, in this form.

 

“Yes…” she said, with a sort of satisfaction. But then she looked concerned. “My koto…”

 

It was a strange request, but he could never deny her, especially not now. “I'll bring it back.”

 

Miharu nodded, and then fell back asleep, her grip slackening.

 

 

 

Once he returned to the palace, he discretely removed the desired instrument and placed it in a secure place far away. He then flew to a few hundred feet above the place he should never have let Miharu go, and began to transcend even his feral form, becoming more in a way he had not since he had fought his father. Then, with the force of a typhoon, he wiped all traces of Kurihama palace from the face of the land.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

AN

 

Yes, I know, I am a horrible, awful person and I deserve to die. I really hate myself for this chapter, but I swear to you it is absolutely necessary. The rest of the story, which I feel is the better half, is completely driven by this event.

 

That said, I just realized that the chapters on this story are extremely messed up. They skip in number from 3 to 6, but 3 and 6 are the same chapter. I think I might fix them, but I'm afraid that will take away my view count and comments.

 

Are there any comments on this story? I'm not sure. Anyway, I promise the story gets better from here. Well, aside from the necessary period of grief.