Utsushiyo Monogatari: Crimson Shadow

Chapter Nine: Upheaval

Oyureihime waited patiently as Lady Oiwa sat down. In the middle of the lavish room with its hand embroidered silk screen of cranes, laid a bracelet in the middle of the table far from her. None would touch it due to its destructive nature to yōkai. A mere touch was enough to inflict a painful stunning  zap to a Daiyōkai and an energy drainage of fifty to any ordinary yōkai. Makoto was the only one immune, along with Katori as they were informed. Katori was from Issei's land. Makoto created it out of his yōki essence and only Makoto could destroy it.

Oyureihime only wondered deeply about the connection between Issei and Katori. The mysterious girl and the equally mysterious Daiyōkai. Katori was standoffish in nature but still polite to all except for Makoto whom he appeared to have a grudge against. Was Issei someone to Katori, she pondered. An incarnation? Impossible yet all seemed possible. The yurei had reported seeing Katori enter the crossroads leading to Takamagahara or other God realms. The only two Daiyōkai she knew who could do that were Seiryu and Ryujin due to their semi- deitified status. Was Katori also one of them? That might explain a possible link to Makoto's Issei. It was not unusual for a Daiyōkai to favour a human girl. Tragedy was the all too common ending.

Her suspicions had grown ever since Katori's constant refusal to show his real form even in combat. Never once did Katori used his real form which placed him at a significant disadvantage to Makoto. Onigami and the others have taken to calling Katori  a crimson shadow, for that was his seemingly most powerful unnatural transformation. Seiryu, Ryujin and even Yakō kept tight lipped on their mysterious counterpart. A wandering Daiyōkai was common across the land, even the occasional few from the continent came by, they were not given a second look if they did not pose a territorial threat.

The fragrance of fresh tea brewed floated across the room. Oyureihime shifted uncomfortably with the news Makoto requested for. More negative news.  A hundred years was enough to transform the lingering dead into one of her kind. However all yurei reported that there was none amongst their kind resembling her. Not even in the line of souls to the netherworld. It was impossible, yet possible. At least, both Katori and Makoto had declared the end of their fifty year feud. 

"Brother, you look pale.", Lady Oiwa spoke up, distracting Oyureihime from her thoughts. Makoto was indeed whiter than usual, his long wavy ebony hair down amplifying the contrast. 

"Oyurihime sama", he greeted as she beckoned kindly to him to sit next to her. 

"Old friend...", Oyureihime paused and broke the news slowly and gently as she could as Makoto turned paler. Lady Oiwa kept silent despite her talkative nature. Her brother was in the same wretched state he was, a century ago. She had at first mocked him secretly but now she was not sure of Issei's status as a human, given the recent events. Even as she recalled in hindsight , nothing would have alerted her to the fact that Issei was a yōkai or anything unusual. Oyureihime was trusted as part of the family for she was the mistress of both Makoto and Oiwa's father before he left them for Ne-no-kuni to accompany their mother.

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Katori folded his arms in amusement as Dakini-ten appeared abruptly on top of Yakō's fox form, stepping on the head with her bare feet. Ryujin and Seiryu were helpless against this particular deity, as they stood by gritting their teeth. The deity was known for eating hearts of humans and Daiyōkai alike. None of their more genteel indigenous patron deities had agreed  to engage her for reasons unbeknownst to them. Except Katori who was aware that power sharing was not minded if there was more to gain. And he delivered to every deity's expectation. 

More so, they have underestimated the vicious nature and primordial connections of Katori. They had relied on his amnesiac transformations and incarnations to keep it compliant. The damn Daiyōkai had been pretending to play the game of forgetfulness. For centuries. Only to turn on them now. He had been busy integrating himself with the indigenous Daiyōkai under their very noses.