"Blood sign"

Chapter Eight - Print. Agreement. Death. Blood sign.

As Haori thought, it was he who eventually had to become Niton's teacher. But, since neither the first nor the second were against it, everything ended well, except that Haori already had Jin in training, besides, Ciir died on the last mission and the place on the team was empty. After Ciir's death, Haori was in a bad mood. His gloominess was already frightening, but with those eyes that reflected pain and guilt, Haori resembled a walking dead.

One day, entering one of the workshops out of boredom, Niton found Haori there. He sat at one of the tables and carefully screwed a new fishing line into the ball. Niton approached his friend and asked:

-Weren't all the lines screwed in yesterday?

"Old, were." Haori nodded, without being distracted. "This is the ninth."

"But... Why were there only eight of them before?" Niton asked, having thought a little about what he had heard.

"The ninth belongs to Ciir," Haori said coldly.

Even from Haori's intonation and voice it was clear that this topic was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

Niton did not immediately understand the meaning of Haori's words, but when the boy realized that each fishing line belonged to an exorcist, with whose death Haori was somehow connected, the guy trembled and, without blinking at the fishing line, asked:

-Ciir?

Haori nodded without looking up from his work.

-B-but... There are as many as nine woods... - Niton babbled.

Suddenly Haori cut his finger and, without even flinching, said:

-Each of the fishing lines belongs to my partners.

"How many teams were you in charge of?" Niton asked in surprise, slightly recovering from shock.

-This is the second one. The first team in which I was the leader disintegrated when everyone except me died. -Haori answered.

"It must be painful for you to discuss this topic?" Niton asked timidly.

"No more painful than remembering everyone." Haori shook his head, looking at the finger from which blood was flowing in a small stream.

"Have you always been a leader?" Niton asked, looking somewhere at the floor.

Haori nodded.

"Why?" Niton asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"My fighting skills are not enough to be a warrior, I'm just a head that is looking for an approach." Haori explained.

"Are your skills lacking?" Niton exclaimed.

The guy completely disagreed. Considering what Niton saw himself, it seemed to him that Haori was the strongest.

"Compared to Shiro, I'm a nobody." Haori snorted and, finally inserting the fishing line into the right mount, stood up from his chair.

"Just who was my dad..?" Niton sighed, scratching the back of his head.

"The strongest." Haori said, going behind Niton and pulling out the fishing line he had just inserted.

After twisting the ball a little and trying different combinations of using it, Haori made sure that the line was sitting well.

Niton clenched his fists, turned to Haori and asked:

-If he was the strongest, how did he die?

Haori looked at Niton over his left shoulder and said:

-If you want to know, I'll have to show you something.

"I want to know everything about my father," Niton said as seriously as possible.

"Then follow me." Haori said and left the room.

After walking with Haori through the corridors, the guys went out to the reception, from where they went out onto the street.

"I thought that exorcists shouldn't go out so easily," Niton said, shielding his eyes from the sun when they came out.

"I'll take you to your father's grave," Haori explained, taking a deep breath.

Niton nodded and hurried after the teacher. The guys headed to the park, which was not far from the place where the exorcists' lair was hidden.

The park looked its best in April. The warm spring air seemed to blow from all sides, tearing off numerous leaves from different trees. The park itself was also quite good. Trees planted in long rows, neat paths, benches; it was very pleasant to be here these days.

"There it is." Haori said when the guys, having made their way through the bushes, came out to a small area that resembled a mini-cemetery.

"My father's grave?" Niton didn't believe it, sitting down next to her.

Haori sighed and said:

-Shiro asked me that after his death I would take you here.

Niton barely heard Haori. Curiosity overcame the guy and Niton began to look at his father's grave.

"He wanted to see your blood sign." Haori added, seeing that Niton was not listening.

Niton turned around in surprise and looked at Haori, looking for something in his eyes.

"That was his last wish." Haori added and, turning around, left, leaving Niton alone with his father.

"A blood sign?" Niton asked, looking into the bushes in which Haori disappeared a second ago.

The wind blew Niton's hair and helped the guy come to his senses. Shaking his head, Niton turned to his father's grave and, staring at the name that was engraved right in the piece of granite, realized that he had nothing sharp. After rummaging through his pockets and finding nothing, Niton remembered the story that Maori told him and decided to bite his lip. Selecting the right side of his lower lip, Niton opened his mouth slightly and, sharply closing his jaws, caused himself pain. Blood soon began to flow from the lip and, running down the chin, began to drip onto the ground. Niton caught himself and, catching one drop on his finger, began to examine it. At first glance, it's just blood, nothing special, but it contains a secret power that not everyone can see.

Having placed his bloody finger on the place on the grave, which was just above the name of Niton's father, the latter again felt a burning sensation all over his finger, but without lifting his finger until the last, Niton suddenly felt as if something was flowing throughout his body, and his head suddenly began aching and splitting from short fragments of memories that Niton had not seen before. Sharply withdrawing his hand from his father's grave and placing it on his head, Niton fell to the ground. His head actually began to be visited by memories that were not inherent to him before. From the entire quickly flashing set, Niton was able to catch and somehow remember four symbols and their inherent pictures.

The first picture that popped up in Niton's head showed a traditional, by the looks of it, Japanese stand and flags on which symbols were drawn that meant "Seal."

In the second picture, Niton saw a newborn child in the arms of a man and an adult's hand, which he put to the child's forehead.

In the third picture, scary images surfaced. A huge ilsnad in the middle of nowhere, with hign montains all around.

In the last picture, Niton saw himself, literally himself. As if from the face of the grave, he saw how he himself put his bloody finger to the granite.

Each of the memories, symbols and pictures flew through Niton's head very quickly, but he was able to remember something. The guy's head is still pounding, but his consciousness is empty, only occasionally random, at first glance, frames flash.

But Niton was sure of at least one thing - the memories did not belong to him.