#haruna sickens me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

perfeggso · 4 years ago

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till the sun’s seeing through my eyes (yumark)

hitting for six

Yuta and Mark are next-door neighbors who grew up together, joined at the hip until Yuta went off to college. Due to their four-year age gap, Mark’s freshman year at the same school marks the halfway point of an unprecedented amount of time apart. Yuta is sure he can handle it, until Mark’s arrival home for spring break makes him wonder if the fondness he has for his friend might be blooming quite literally into something stronger. It’s up to him to handle the consequences.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Characters: Yuta x Mark + NCT ensemble, other SM (and non-SM (?)) idols tbd, character families

Genres: heavy angst, fluff, Hanahaki!AU, small town!AU, slight Witchcraft/Magic!AU, College!AU

Warnings: blood and gore, mentions of death, disease, vomiting, college-typical alcohol use, swearing

Rating: T

Length: 8.3k

Yuta twirled the stick of rock candy he’d picked up at the market around between his lips, enjoying how it felt rough on his tongue and filled his mouth with the flavor of unadulterated sugar. He checked his phone – no new messages.

He tapped the toe of his sneakers against the linoleum floor of Kun’s coffeeshop and drummed his hands against the seafoam counter before pulling the candy from his lips with a pop and dunking it in his glass of mint tea. All around him, the clinking, hissing, and chatter of a well-liked café filled his ears, and the arousing scent of coffee steam kept him a fidgety kind of alert. On second thought, replace “alert” with “distracted.”

“Did you hear me, Yuta?” Sicheng was saying, sitting at the table nearest the espresso machine and picking at a mini egg custard tart. Yuta had not heard him, that much was evident.

Yuta sighed with some effort, then made a fake sorry face. “No – no, I apologize, babe, I didn’t.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes. “Whatever, it wasn’t important.” He took a large bite of his tart, pale, buttery crumbs affixing to his lips.

“Neko latte!” Kun interrupted, setting a white coffee cup in front of Yuta, the frothed milk on top of it shaped like a stubby-tailed cat that wiggled as the cup moved. Yuta had to restrain himself from jiggling its foam butt into oblivion. Kun returned a moment later with a plate. “Aaaand, let’s see, one slice of orange poppy seed bread.” He dropped his smiling customer service face momentarily as he leaned in towards Yuta. “I thought you said you could handle calling out the orders. That was my condition for letting you behind the counter, wasn’t it?”

Yuta shrugged, repeating the order at double Kun’s original volume and smirking when a customer instantly shot out of her seat to come collect it. Yuta downed his tea, burning his throat, and stuck the melting candy back into his mouth as she made her way over, pushing the now-empty cup forward as an encouragement to leave a tip in it, which the poor girl did. Kun snatched the sticky bill from the cup and shook it out, disapproval contorting his face as he voiced his disappointment with a simple “nope.”

“But Kun, I watched her earlier and she didn’t leave a tip when she ordered,” Yuta protested, making himself laugh until it was threatening to become a cough. Dammit. He pulled in a shaky breath. “I’m only trying to help.”

Kun pointed to the seating area. “Out.”

Yuta sulked his way to the chair opposite Sicheng, noting on his way that it was still pouring not insignificantly outside. Yuta had gotten off work early because of the rain; the indoor soccer field had been reserved weeks earlier for the high school team. Instead, he’d taken his kids to Yukhei’s gym for a short workout and then sent them home, choosing to wile away the rest of his time waiting for Mark with his buddies over a warm beverage.

“Has he responded yet?” Sicheng asked.

“No,” Yuta pouted. He’d sent Mark a text nearly twenty-five minutes ago saying he was ahead of schedule and to come meet him at Kun’s shop. “Ugh, wait, I’m sorry. What were you saying earlier? Nothing you say is unimportant, friend.”

Sicheng looked like he wanted to smack Yuta and hug him at the same time. Yuta was used to this.

“I was only teasing you for missing my speech last night because no one cut you off,” Sicheng clarified, wiping his hands against each other once he’d finished eating.

The memory of heaving in his bathroom in an attempt to extract whatever was obstructing his airways hit Yuta like an unforeseen ocean wave. He nodded slowly, schooling his face to pretend to be irritated rather than scared. He didn’t want to lie to his friend, but not even he knew what the real issue was, and it would undoubtedly get sorted, so why worry people?

Yuta made his face into the disappointment emoji. “Mm-hm,” he said. “Well since you can only process my suffering as it pertains to you, maybe you’ll cut me off next time you have something important to say.”

Sicheng raised his eyebrows. “Someone’s feeling bitchy today,” he observed. “This is because your boyfriend’s not texting back, isn’t it?”

Yuta scoffed. “Boyfriend,” he huffed in disbelief, but the word stirred a sickened feeling inside him. He chose to ignore that. “Yeah, it is,” he teased, “you jealous?”

Sicheng shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “It means you’ll let me be for a couple weeks.”

Yuta laughed, his body once again nearly giving into coughing. Like, choking on one’s dinner and needing the Heimlich kind of coughing. Instead of letting that happen and calling attention to himself, he doused his throat in the contents of a glass of water.

His breathing had been a bit better since he’d spoken with his mother that morning, but the problem wasn’t gone, and the raw coughing fits that started the day before were only growing more frequent. A particularly violent one had gripped him during practice, scaring some of his kids enough that he’d run away to the bathroom to get it under control. Thankfully, Yukhei had been in another room.

Yuta came from a tradition of hedge witches, of which his mother was a shining example. She ran an apothecary in town with his father; handling the medicine and potions side of it while he handled the business angle. She was a skilled potion-maker and healer, and she had a keen sense of spiritual effects on the physical. She was often able to gain insights that seemed so spot-on that Yuta had no choice but to believe whatever she told him to do.

She’d encouraged her children to utilize tarot cards from an early age and endeavored ever since to teach them everything she knew. Now and then, having someone so spiritually inclined as a parent could be burdensome, but it was times like these – when Yuta felt something strange and unwelcome stirring in him – that he felt he was lucky.

When Yuta had gone to the main house that morning, he found his mother in the kitchen, making banana pancakes as his little sister looked over her advanced biology homework. The high school still had a week left before spring break.

“Hi Haruna,” Yuta greeted, shoving her face softly into her papers and receiving a well-earned glare.

“Good morning, dingus. You really shouldn’t be partying when you have work in the morning.”

Haruna was a senior, less than a year younger than Mark (a fact which regularly escaped Yuta’s mind) and possessed an attitude problem – though one quite different from Yuta’s. That morning, she wore a long, eggplant-purple frock dress with lots of heavy eyeliner and her hair in a helmet-like bob. She might have been sartorially challenged and a bit of a bitch in Yuta’s view, but she was also his adorable little sister, and a veritable genius, he had to admit.

Yuta went to the fridge and pulled out an apricot yogurt. “I assure you I can handle myself,” he said, grabbing one of a collection of mismatched spoons and plopping it into his breakfast. “The last thing I need is a seventeen-year-old lecturing me on alcohol.”

Haruna tried to flick some of the syrup on her fork into her brother’s hair but missed. “I can’t wait until Momoka comes home to visit,” she grumbled. “Maybe you’ll listen to her.”

Yuta’s mother gave her youngest and middle child a heavy look of disapproval as she flipped a pancake with a wet, resounding plop. The action itself communicated as much authority as any scolding words could have. Yuta just smiled sweetly, digging into his yogurt.

“Yuta, dear,” she began, “can I interest you in some pancakes?”

Yuta shook his head, feeling a little guilty, but he was rarely very hungry in the mornings. “No, this is enough for me,” he said. His mother smiled. It was the same smile Haruna would flash when she was about to tease him.

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come all the way over here just to bother your studious sister and refuse my cooking, so there has to be something else, hm? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Yuta sighed. As usual, she was indeed correct. “As a matter of fact, there is something bothering me.”

His mother listened attentively as he recounted the last day’s events: the asthma scare, trying to use the potion she’d taught him with a prayer, his concern over the reading he’d had that morning. All the while, she finished shaping her stack of pancakes and leaned on her elbows, steam rising from the food and swirling in front of her paisley house dress, fluffy hair, purple kerchief, and concerned face.

“It sounds to me like you’re having anxiety about change,” she offered once he’d finished. “You always tend to have flare-ups during transition periods.”

“Yeah,” Haruna cut in, spearing a chunk of pancake and narrowly escaping dropping it on her school papers, “remember when you were a freshman and you had a panic attack before coming home for winter break? You said you could hardly breathe all night and that you didn’t think you wanted to come back.”

Haruna seemed a little too casual with that difficult memory for Yuta’s liking, although she was right that he hadn’t forgotten. He pinched his eyebrows together.

“Is this a transition period though?” he asked. Everything for him was more or less the same as it had been all year.

His mother nodded. “I’d say so. Some of your younger friends are coming home, and Taeil will be going back to the city soon. There are a lot of moving pieces in your life at the moment, dear. I don’t think it's at all strange that you’re feeling off and maybe hiding some things from yourself.”

“Alternately,” quipped Haruna as their mother went to fetch a cloudy, pastel purple concoction she had sitting in a beaker by the window, “you’re just a drama queen.”

Yuta started. “Wanna get your butt kicked by a college athlete?” he threatened. Haruna stuck her tongue out at him.

“You mean former intramural college athlete?”

“That’s enough!”

Yuta and Haruna both turned to face their mother. She looked like her hair would be suspended in exasperation if she were in a Ghibli Movie. Yuta knew that meant it was time to Shut Up. Oops.

She sighed, running her hands over the lip of the beaker in her hand and muttering to herself to calm down. Then, she slid it forward to her son.

“Bring this to work with you, Yuta,” she advised, voice still stern. “I made it fresh this morning for the shop, but I think you could use it. It has lavender, mint, chamomile, soy oil, salts, and I’ve charged it with moon water. It’s something I’ve been messing around with for dealing with anxiety and stress during liminal periods in life.” Yuta nodded, listening attentively and twirling the little vial in between his fingers. She went on. “Then later whenever you have time, I want you to sit alone with your confusion for a little while. I think that might give you more insight into what is driving this spiritually and subconsciously. Try not to smother it, whatever it is.”

Of course his mom’s advice was essentially “meditate.” Why had he even bothered to ask? He nodded one more time, subdued, and dropped the vial of pale liquid into his pocket. He would put it into a water bottle and bring it along.

Yuta finished his yogurt and chucked the container into the recycling. “Thank you, Mom,” he said, snagging a pancake on his way out of the kitchen just to win a little more of her favor. “And have a good day, Haruna.”

“You too, dingus.”

“Tell me if you’re feeling better tonight!” his mother called after him, finishing off with a mild threat: “And I’ll be able to tell if you didn’t follow my directions!”

Yuta sighed for what felt like the eightieth time all day, watching the café’s glass door from over Sicheng’s shoulder for any signs of Mark. He didn’t know how to summon people or things, but he half-imagined that he did, concentrating so hard on the door that it was making his eyes cross. And in a matter of seconds, it worked (or, at least, the universe gave the illusion of it working).

Mark rushed into the coffeeshop, looking harried and tugging a cumbersome guitar case along with him which he tried desperately to protect with a too-small umbrella. The image put Yuta at attention, smiling.

“I’m so sorry!” Mark spluttered as he rushed through the door. “I was practicing, and I didn’t check my phone!”

“Whoa there,” Kun warned from behind the counter. “This does not need to be advertised to my entire clientele.”

Mark shook out his umbrella and shoved it into the holder in the entryway, checking with Yuta that they planned on staying for at least a little while and apologizing sheepishly to Kun.

He sat down at the table with Yuta and Sicheng as Yuta grinned at him.

“Don’t be sorry, Markie-boy,” Yuta said, poking Mark in the side and making him almost giggle his way out of his chair. As the chair tipped and then slingshotted violently back to its starting position from Mark regaining his balance, it clattered so loudly that it attracted more concerned looks than Mark had when he’d busted through the door. Yuta hardly seemed to register this as he gushed about how devoted his friend was to his craft that he would haul his equipment through a rainstorm. Kun rolled his eyes and huffed in defeat at yet another disruption.

“Mark, the usual?” he asked, and Mark nodded after nervously confirming Yuta didn’t have other plans for them to go eat somewhere.

Only then did he allow himself to settle in, peeling off his damp jacket and balancing his guitar case against the side of his chair.

“Did you carry that all the way here?” Sicheng asked, and Yuta shot him an obvious look.

“Of course he did,” he replied for his friend, and Sicheng glared at him. “The kid can’t drive, after all. Just like you.”

Mark nodded in confirmation as Kun set a mug of hot chocolate and a cream cheese bagel in front of him. “I love being referred to as ‘the kid’ as if I’m not present,” he snarked. “Also, thanks, Kun.”

“Sure thing.”

Yuta crunched absently at the end of his rock candy. “Aw, don’t go trying to make me feel bad when you forced me to wait for thirty-five minutes and didn’t even tell me you were on your way. It’s like you want to keep me in constant suspense with your little surprises.” Mark scowled, but his mouth was too stuffed with bagel to form a retort, so Yuta went on. “Anyway, you got a guitar in there?”

Mark swallowed. “What do you think?”

“I think we’re just impressed you lugged it all the way here,” Sicheng clarified, trying to clear the air of Yuta’s usual bitchiness. “Surely, you brought it for a reason.”

Mark clapped his hands against each other to rid them of crumbs, body going taut with excitement.

“Actually yes!” he mouthed around his food. “I did have a reason. I wanted to show off what I’ve been practicing!”

“Oooooh!” Yuta buzzed, applauding preemptively at hyper-speed. “You might want to check with the stickler in charge though,” he warned, stage whispering and indicating towards Kun. The subject of the jest frowned at his table of friends.

“I can hear you, Yuta,” he said, “and it’s fine. Just give me a minute to turn the speakers off.”

Soon enough, Mark had extracted his guitar from its case and had it over his knee, strumming experimentally to warm up and drawing the attention of most of the customers behind him.

“Don’t look now, Mark,” Sicheng began. “But it looks like you’ve roped yourself into a little concert.”

“A little what now?” he asked, immediately going against the advice he’d just received and turning around to meet the gazes of at least fifteen people he only marginally knew. “Oh, uh, okay. This is fine.”

Yuta smiled to himself as he watched his friend adjust his fingers over the metal strings and clear his throat, red face betraying that he might not, in fact, be fine.

Pretty soon though, he was finger-picking his way through the intro to Frank Ocean’s “Cayendo.” Once Mark started singing, Yuta found himself lulled into an admiring trance at the smooth sweetness of Mark’s voice. Mark was usually shy about singing solo, but he’d been working on it and Yuta loved that he had gained some confidence. The fact that the song was in a language Yuta couldn’t understand served even further to pull him under its calm spell.

He pretended to swoon at the little performance, rolling his eyes around and fanning himself theatrically. “Ooh, Markie, take me now,” he joked, just loud enough for his table to hear and no one else. Mark’s ears went red and he struggled to sing through a giggle.

Right in the middle of the song though, Mark sang a stanza that Yuta did understand. It ended with a melancholy plea of love:

When I still really, really love you, like I do

If you won't, then I will

If you can't, then I will

Is it love to keep it from you?

It was such a sad sentiment. Yuta thought that if he were a more sentimental person, and under different circumstances, he would have started to cry. Though, maybe he wasn’t as unsentimental as he thought he was…

Mark transitioned back to singing in Spanish and Yuta took the moment to lose himself less in his friend’s voice and more in the space around them: the chatter of impressed coffee-sippers, the whirring of the espresso machine, the soft and appreciative expressions on his friends’ faces. It was almost as sweet as the leftover sugar which coated the inside of his mouth – almost sweet enough for him to forget that some kind of repression within him was causing him vascular stress. Almost; almost.

Mark plucked the last note of the song and the café broke into a pitter-patter of applause which echoed the pounding of rain outside, and in that moment, as if to remind him of the tenuousness of his almosts, Yuta found himself hurled into the most intense pain he’d felt in the last twenty-four hours.

He bent himself over and started retching into a napkin. It was the same sensation he’d gotten the night before at the party, when he’d locked himself in the bathroom and coughed himself raw into the white sink, trying to force something out that just wouldn’t budge. He felt like he had a copper wire weaving through his muscles, and someone was sending shocks of electricity through it.

Sicheng and Mark stared at him in concern and Sicheng pushed a glass of water his way. He choked out his thanks before downing it in one go, once again taking note of the clump of – something – which drifted back down along with the liquid. By the time he had himself back under control, both his friends were posing some variation on the same ‘you okay?’ question.

“Yeah, yeah,” he lied. “Just aspirated some very sharp candy.”

Sicheng winced. “Ouch,” he said. “At least you had the courtesy to wait until Mark was finished.”

Yuta stuck his tongue out, but the way his friend went so casually back to teasing him actually made him feel a little better.

“I know the Heimlich maneuver!” Mark said, a stupidly proud grin crossing his face as he set his guitar back into its case and puffed his chest out involuntarily. “So I could have saved you if it came to that.”

Yuta smiled weakly. “That’s very reassuring, Mark.”

“NBD.” Yuta groaned, the sharp pain from only moments ago leaving him just as quickly as it had come. He cringed. Had Mark really just said “NBD?” Whatever. Mark continued.

“Seriously though, what did you guys think?”

“It was really good,” Sicheng said, “and I would say, a glowing testament to your four years of high school Spanish.”

Mark snickered. “What about you, Yutaaa?”

“Well if you couldn’t tell by the way I reacted at the beginning, I loved it! Really, like your voice just keeps getting better and better.”

Mark placed a hand over his heart, meaning to indicate that Yuta’s compliment had touched him.

“Aren’t you not supposed to be using instruments though?” Sicheng chimed. “I mean, considering you’re an a cappella person?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Very funny,” he said. “But thanks, guys. I think I might play it live sometime on the Serotonin Hour.” That was the name of the radio show Johnny had left to him upon graduation.

“You know,” Yuta began, rapping his fingers against the table, “when Johnny willed his time slot to you, I don’t think he expected you’d use it for such self-serving purposes.”

Mark rolled his eyes even farther into his head this time. “It’s an hour where I impose my music taste on the small group of people who actually bother to tune in. What could be more self-serving?”

Yuta clicked his tongue. Mark had a point.

“Anyway,” said Mark, hopping to his feet, “what do you want to do, Yuta?”

***

Since it was raining out, they decided they would have to stay mostly indoors, so they resolved to wander around the market hall until they came up with a more exciting activity, Yuta letting Mark store his guitar in the trunk of his car while they perused. Sicheng was invited along too, but he had a dance class to run in half an hour and needed to review his lesson plan ahead of time, so it was just the two of them.

Well, it was just the two of them until they got to the Jung family farmstand at the end of the long, warehouse-like building. Jaehyun sat behind it, writing something into a notebook and looking so bored that his face was practically melting into the hand supporting it.

“Oh, thank god,” he said when he saw his friends approaching. “It’s been such a slow day I was ready to choke myself out just to have something to do.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Yuta guffawed at his friend as Mark nodded slowly.

“Nice to see you too, man,” Mark said.

“Want anything?”

Yuta and Mark surveyed their options: a selection of dairy products, meat, and eggs in a set of coolers, and a table covered in artichokes, celery, pears, asparagus, broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbages, and a veritable rainbow of root vegetables. As usual, the Jung family farm’s output looked delicious. Maybe Yuta would get something for his parents to put in tonight’s dinner. He grabbed a bundle of radishes by the leaves and shoved them at his friend with a grin.

Mark, on the other hand, knew immediately what he would go for.

“And, uh, can I get a banana milk?”

Jaehyun nodded as Yuta gave his younger friend his best side-eye.

“You just drank a giant hot chocolate. Haven’t you had enough dairy for one day?”

Mark pouted, fishing for his wallet, and Yuta couldn’t help but smile at the way Mark’s eyes looked like shiny tea saucers. He could be devilishly cute sometimes. Cute enough to make Yuta want to buy shit for him, which he did, paying for the radishes and the milk before Mark even had the opportunity to complain.

“Drink up!”

Mark glared. “Fine. I’ll just sneak-buy you something next time.”

Yuta wobbled his head like an anime heroine as he spoke. “Oh, so I’ll get a next time? Man, this date is going so well!” he said, and Mark’s ears flushed for the second time in thirty minutes. A niggling voice in the back of Yuta’s head told him he wanted to see Mark like that more often. He brushed that idea away, not quite knowing how to process it.

“Whatever,” Mark mumbled as Jaehyun looked on in his usual casual detachment. Yuta turned his attention back to him.

“By the way, Jae, where are your parents? Can’t they come relieve you of your existential dread?”

Jaehyun blew a puff of air at his bangs. “I wish,” he responded. “They’re out of town for the weekend though, so I’m left to suffer alone. Oh – which reminds me! Can you go check on Sugarfoot and Lacey for me? They probably need their water troughs refilled right about now. And besides, I’m sure they miss Mark.”

Yuta and Mark agreed easily. Everyone loved those horses, even if Sugarfoot could be a pain in the ass. When Yuta was a teenager, she had apparently decided he’d lived long enough, because she tried to buck him off until Yuta was pretty sure he’d suffered acute whiplash. Besides Jaehyun, Johnny was the only person she seemed to tolerate (and tolerate simply meant she was a bitch to him rather than straight-up murderous), but alas, Johnny wasn’t around.

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said. “I’d do it myself, but everyone here knows my parents and they’d definitely somehow manage to tell them I’d abandoned my post. You know where the keys to the stable are and everything, right?”

“Yup!”

And with that, Yuta and Mark left Jaehyun to return to pondering auto-asphyxiation.

It had stopped raining outside, and the sky was in the process of clearing from a mournful grey to a clear periwinkle, like a windshield-wiper was slowly swiping across it to rid it of clouds. They ran into Taeil on the way to Yuta’s car, in the middle of walking five dogs of varying sizes and breeds.

Naturally, Mark became immediately preoccupied by the tangle of fur attached tenuously to Taeil’s wrist by a set of leashes. The cute scene made Yuta’s chest go tight with fondness.

Yuta told Taeil they’d missed him at the party the night before as Mark rolled around on the wet ground, getting his face smothered by a particularly friendly Chow Chow and laughing like his lungs were about to burst out of his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry!” Taeil said, trying not to let himself get tugged around. “It was just last minute and I’d already been roped into cooking for my family, and we had friends over – bad timing.”

Yuta waved him off. “Don’t worry, I’ll only hold it against you forever. But when do you go back to the city?”

“Next week,” Taeil replied, leaning down awkwardly to save Mark from five rough tongues. Taeil didn’t have a dog himself (although he did have a goose in his backyard, a fact which Yuta was never not perplexed by) but his family owned the local pet shop and he always had dog-walker duty when he was home. It was also how he made money when he was in high school. “We should definitely get together before I go back though!” Taeil continued. “You guys can help me make this pasta dish I’ve been wanting to try. Sound good Mark?”

Mark got up, brushing the wet dirt off his backside. “What? Oh yeah, for sure! I’m always down to eat – and to see you, Taeil. I didn’t forget about you.”

Taeil looked dryly at his younger friend. “Yeah, of course. But listen, Mark, it’s really good luck we’re home at the same time. I need you to tell me all about how the Aca-Fellas are doing.” Mark nodded shyly. Taeil had been the star of the a cappella group at his college, so he’d had plenty of run-ins with the Fellas at competitions. His own superiority at singing was something it was at times difficult to get him to shut up about. Taeil continued:

“Anyway, I should be going. These guys are getting squirrely, and I don’t want them to do their business right here. I’ll see you two around, I guess. Enjoy the rest of your date!”

Hey, Yuta thought, that’s my joke. Somehow it made him feel weird to hear someone else use it.

***

They were at Jaehyun’s stables after a short drive, and they found the keys easily. Mark scratched lovingly at Lacey’s chin as Yuta filled the troughs with water. Then, they decided it was as good a time as any to see if Johnny was free to FaceTime. He was.

“Heyoooo,” Johnny greeted once his pixelated face flashed onto Yuta’s phone. Yuta laughed. His friend looked happy and healthy. “Oh what? You have Mark with you? Sweet!”

They caught up on Johnny’s life for a few minutes; he was having a great time on his own, but he missed everyone and couldn’t wait to come home in the summer.

“Hurry home,” Yuta joked, getting up from the bail of hay he’d been sitting on because Sugarfoot was cribbing on the door to her stable. “I think Taeyong is wilting without you here.”

Johnny chuckled indulgently. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” He gasped and his image froze in the exaggerated reaction face he’d pulled, making Mark squeak with laughter. “Is that my favorite girlie?” came his crackling voice.

Yuta held the phone up to Sugarfoot, nudging her head a bit to get her to detach her teeth from the wood. “Sure is.”

Johnny asked if Jaehyun was there, so Yuta informed him on their friend’s predicament. Then Johnny addressed Mark, telling him he should try braiding Sugarfoot’s dark mane – he’d found she had come to enjoy it. Mark, being the least experienced with Jaehyun’s bitch of a mare, immediately fell for it and tried, causing Sugarfoot to squeal and jerk her neck away from his touch. He fell back on his butt in surprise and Johnny cackled through Yuta’s phone speaker.

“Aw, I see college hasn’t made you less gullible, Markie-boy.”

“It most certainly has not,” Yuta confirmed, and Mark attempted a glare, but it only ended up looking like what he’d done when Johnny tried to teach him how to flirt that one time.

Johnny continued. “Anyway, Mark how are you really? I don’t care about this old hag; Yuta, give the phone to Mark.”

Yuta handed over the phone with a casual threat of murder.

Mark was doing well. Johnny asked if his a cappella group had let him rap yet. Mark rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, leaning against the stable door right next to Lacey.

“Naw, not yet,” he said. “Just beatboxing for now. Eventually...”

Johnny shrugged. “It’s okay. When you’re a senior you can run the group and do whatever the hell you want. And, when they see how good you are, that’ll really show ’em.”

Yuta watched the conversation unfold, reveling in the warm feeling he got from watching some of his favorite people interact.

“Are you doing the Serotonin Hour justice, by the way?” Johnny asked. “Playing that good shit?”

Mark fumbled around a response so Yuta cut in, yelling from off-screen. “He’s great, Johnny! Wish you were here to tune in because I think he might be surpassing you in quality already.”

Yuta heard Johnny scoff as Mark looked embarrassed. “Impossible!” Yuta leaned in next to Mark and Johnny asked about his own parents.

Yuta frowned. “Can’t you just call them and ask how they’re doing?”

“I did! I do!” Johnny said, exasperated. “I wanted to hear it from a third party though, otherwise all they tell me is ‘we’re good, John, we’re good. Everything’s just fine.’ Know what I mean?”

Mark answered. Mr. and Mrs. Seo were doing just as well as they let on to their son, as far as he could tell. This seemed to satisfy him.

Johnny had to go soon after this, so Yuta and Mark took the opportunity to get back in Yuta’s car and drive to his house, where brand new purple crocuses had pushed through the dirt in the front yard.

Yuta led Mark straight to his loft when they arrived, happy to finally have some actual alone time with his friend. He didn’t know where this territorial streak was coming from. He usually did it as a joke – especially with Mark and Sicheng – but all of a sudden, he didn’t feel like he was joking anymore. He shrugged it off mentally. It probably had something to do with his repression, he figured, realizing he hadn’t followed all his mother’s instructions yet. Oh well, the meditation could wait.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he offered. “We can hang out all day that way, until you’re absolutely fed up with me.”

Mark giggled as they traipsed through the wet grass, passing the fresh crocuses.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” Mark agreed. “I’ll text my parents and ask them.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Yuta remarked, pointing straight ahead to where Mr. Lee stood in his driveway, getting ready to go out. “Mr. Lee!”

Mark’s dad turned around, startled for a moment, before waving.

“Your son is eating dinner over here!” Yuta yelled. “We’ll take good care of him!”

Mark laughed nervously at Yuta’s side as his dad consented. Yuta had to admit that his life was a little emptier when Mark’s ridiculous giggle-fits weren’t a daily feature.

Back in Yuta’s room, Mark hooked his phone up to Yuta’s Bluetooth speaker and played one of his most recent DJ set playlists while Yuta sat at his vanity and yanked a radish from the bunch he’d bought earlier from Jaehyun, biting off a chunk. It tasted watery and sharp.

“What are you doing?” Mark protested. “I thought those were for your parents.”

“I’m only taste-testing,” Yuta defended, mouth full of radish. “Calm down.” He poised the other half of the radish as if he were about to overhand chuck it in Mark’s direction. That was, in fact, what he planned to do. “Open up.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. “But it has your spit on it!”

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a baby.”

Mark nodded in acquiescence, opening his mouth for a split second before thinking of something else to worry about.

“This seems dangerous though, like what if I choke on it?”

“Then that’s really too bad because I do not know the Heimlich,” Yuta snarked. “Try not to.”

Mark opened his mouth again and Yuta threw the radish in an arc the few feet between them. Mark shuffled a little to align his mouth and caught the radish, doing a little dance of victory when he realized he’d succeeded.

“Yoooooo!” he yelled around his mouthful.

Yuta clapped, he remarked to himself, like a cheerleader congratulating his boyfriend. Whatever. He wasn’t above that.

“That’s what I call synchronicity!” he said.

Then, Yuta decided to experiment with combinations of the new earrings he’d bought recently while he and Mark talked. They ended up mostly reminiscing about the stupid hijinks they’d gotten themselves into over the years: the time they got drunk and went skinny-dipping in the bioluminescence despite a slew of recent shark sightings (Mark kept trying to drift off into the mist and when they heard a loud splash near them in the water, Yuta asked Mark if he’d retrieve his dick if it got bitten off. “Is that something you would want me to do?” Mark had responded); the time they went cliff-diving as a group and somehow Yuta managed to injure himself while stumbling over rocks to take a picture and then tried to tell everyone who hadn’t been there that he’d hurt himself jumping into the water so he wouldn’t sound like an idiot; the time Mark tried weed for the first time and became convinced he was suffering an aneurysm, begging Yuta to make him a potion for it; all the times Yuta and Mark travelled to dance competitions together as kids and shared hotel rooms, planning their entire futures as they waited to get sleepy. They had promised to always have houses next to each other, and that their families and spouses would be forever close.

Yuta sometimes found that, with long-time friends he didn’t get to see as often as he would have liked, it was easier to reminisce than to create new, whole memories. It had nothing to do with Mark’s value as a friend, and they still came away from every summer with plenty of additional experiences and stories, but Yuta hated the feeling he sometimes got of their rhythm being off during the shorter breaks. He worried their friendship would calcify into something past tense. But then again, he figured, a deep understanding like what he and Mark shared didn’t need constant updates.

Being with Mark sometimes took him back to being eighteen – right before he left for college – and in a way he liked that as much as he liked his friend. He just got an occasional sinking feeling that they were missing each other’s landmarks. It was irrational, but he couldn’t deny it.

Mark had moved on to updates about his friend group as Yuta held a thin and dangly silver earring against his lobe. Mark nodded in approval and Yuta worked to stifle a sudden bout of coughing. Ah yes. There it is.

Later, at the dinner table, Yuta hardly got a word in edgewise with his parents and sister grilling Mark on how his first year was wrapping up: was his friend group holding up? Yup. Did he like his second semester classes? He did. Was he still sure he wanted to pursue a conservation major? Yes. Did he know who he’d room with the next year? He was going to try to room with his friend Yeri, but they had to sign a consent form for co-ed housing first. When was his next a cappella performance? The big one was in late April. Did he have a significant other?

Yuta almost hacked up a spoonful of his root vegetable soup before glaring at his mom, the source of that query.

“Aish, why does everyone wanna know that?” asked Mark, setting his spoon down for a second. “Sorry, it’s just really funny to me. No, I don’t.”

Yuta looked across the table to his mother and caught her sending an irritated look right back at him. He figured it was probably related to the vague threat she’d made earlier that she would know if he didn’t follow all her advice by the time he got home in the evening.

Once they’d finished eating, the boys helped wash the dishes and Mrs. Nakamoto gifted Mark a little vial of her signature lucky potion for him to use during finals.

“Bye, little dingus,” Haruna called to Mark as he and Yuta were on their way out for a quick post-prandial stroll. Yuta turned around.

“Don’t talk to your elder that way!” She rolled her eyes.

Outside, it was fully dark, and a distinct late-winter chill tinged the air enough that Yuta had to burrow his chin into the collar of his bomber jacket. Rather than the chatter of crickets they would have heard at that hour during summertime, the air sung with the hush of breeze rustling the pines and the distant break of ocean waves. Yuta thought bittersweetly about how the next time he’d see Mark for an extended time, the crickets would be back.

“Sorry for all the prying,” Yuta grumbled as the two made their way to the little pedestrian suspension bridge over the river on the edge of town. The river led to the ocean eventually, but inland, it felt thin and closed-off all the same. This bridge passing over it was one of Yuta and Mark’s favorite spots to sit and chat late at night without anyone hearing. In fact, it was that type of spot for most of the town’s young residents.

“Don’t be,” Mark said jovially, kicking his feet leisurely as he walked. “I expect it at this point. Bet you remember what that’s like.”

Yuta nodded. He did.

“You know,” Mark began, “it’s actually sorta calming to get the same questions over and over again. Cuz like, for some reason I keep getting really stressed out when I come home. I don’t know why…It’s kind of annoying.”

Yuta pointed at Mark in recognition as he chimed in. “No – I know exactly what you mean. I used to get that too. Remember when I had that panic attack?”

Mark nodded. “Oooh yeah, man, I do. You were calling me at like two in the morning and you sounded like you were crying. I had no idea what you were on about. But I guess now I understand more.”

Yuta smiled to himself as the sound of the river added its own particular hush to the mix of natural noises. He tried not to take too much comfort in the idea that his friend was now suffering the same way he had. At least it was a pretty privileged form of suffering…

Yuta took a deep breath, looking up and trying to find stars in the hazy dark sky.

“My mom calls it liminality. She says it's natural to feel spiritually detached at times of transition. It’s like your identity is thrown into flux and it can be hard to balance your competing selves all at once. You’ve got your independent college self and my little Markie boy who lives with his parents and can’t drive.” At this, Yuta grabbed Mark and tried to give him a noogie. “I think that’s what’s stressing you out. Might do you some good to recognize it and hear it verbalized.”

Mark laughed. They were approaching the entrance to the bridge. “I guess that makes sense. I – wait.”

Yuta took a second to register that Mark had cut himself off and stopped walking. He was staring into the distance towards the bridge, so Yuta followed his gaze. He blinked a few times in the dark, but once his vision focused, he noticed what Mark had been looking at: a dark lump in the center of the suspended walkway. It seemed to be moving – writhing almost – and Mark placed a finger over his mouth to indicate they should be silent. Little groans and giggles emanated from the wiggly lump over the rush of the water. It was a person – no – people.

Yuta felt himself about to start laughing, and he didn’t want to disrupt whatever moment was going on in front of them, so he grabbed Mark’s arm and hauled him away, running back towards their houses and cracking up the minute they thought they were out of earshot.

Mark tried to catch his breath from all the exertion. “Were, were they –”

“Fucking?” Yuta finished for him. “Yeah, I think so.”

Mark leaned over his knees. It was the same position Yuta had used several times in the last day to combat his lung issue. “Shit, man,” he said. “I was not expecting that.”

Yuta shook his head in disbelief. “Me neither. Here; on that note, let’s get you home. The Lees deserve their son back.”

“Sounds good. That’s enough excitement for one night.”

***

Yuta tiptoed back into the kitchen before going to the barn to sleep, opening the fridge to sneak another few bites of the raspberry meringue cake his mom had bought on a whim from the Seos while shopping for dinner.

Her voice in the dark startled him so badly that he jolted against the refrigerator shelving, rattling a whole row of bottled drinks and sauces and causing a racket.

“Holy shit, mom, you’re going to kill me,” he said, holding a hand against his chest like a 19th century gentlewoman.

“Come to the living room with me, Yuta,” she said, bypassing his griping.

Yuta gulped, following his mother’s directions until he was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of her lounge chair.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d notice if you blew off my instructions?” she asked, sipping from a cup of tea. It smelled like chamomile and it was making Yuta sleepy.

“I know,” he said, “but I was with Mark all day and I didn’t want it to be weird for him while I like, went off into a corner to ruminate on my inner demons or whatever. I was still gonna do it. Also, I drank the potion you gave me.”

“I understand Yuta,” she said, cutting him off before he could spew any more excuses, “but you’re going to do it right now. I want you to feel better.”

“I already do feel a little better,” Yuta said, though he knew he was lying. His mom knew it too, because she gave him a skeptical sideways glance.

“You looked like you were holding in a coughing spell all through dinner,” she informed him. Had he? Yikes… “So, close your eyes.”

Yuta knew how this was going to go, but still, he let his mom lead him through breathing and visualization, focusing on tracking and changing the color and temperature of his internal energy as it passed through each of his limbs, his gut, hit neck and shoulders, his head, and finally, to his lungs. He tried to pull air in until it touched the extremity of them, boundaries of his body going fuzzy in concentration, but it was difficult for him; shaky almost.

His mother’s voice floated into his consciousness, instructing him to imagine the hollow of his mind and let thoughts begin to trickle in without obstruction; to let them come and go without judgement.

He thought of what Mark had been saying on their walk and how it resonated with his own experiences, how it frustrated him that he could never quite recreate the comfort of his and Mark’s dynamic when he visited him at school and they were with all Mark’s first year friends (at least Kun and Jaehyun were around at times, but still). He thought about how weird it felt for all his friends to be scattered around. Mostly though, he thought about the strange burning tightness that had been threatening to cut off his air supply over the last day whenever he dwelled too much on thoughts of his best friend, on observing him, on feeling lucky to know him.

Next thing he knew, he was coughing aggressively again, dragging in empty breaths whenever his throat gave him a break from its violent convulsing. The metal wires felt like they’d made their way into his heart. Neither his breathing nor his coughing was satisfactory though; there was still something stuck. What on earth was wrong with him?

Yuta latched back onto the sound of his mother’s voice as he calmed down and opened his eyes. She knelt next to him on the floor, rubbing over his back and knitting her brows in concern.

“Oh darling,” she cooed. “Have some tea.” He drank gladly, but this time the obstruction inside him stayed right where it was halfway down his windpipe. “It’s just as I thought. Something is blocking you off from your spiritual self.”

Yuta blinked some tears of exertion from his eyes, smirking as he returned somewhat to himself.

“You sure it’s not just my sarcasm?” he joked, and his mom scowled.

“Well, that’s certainly not helping,” she said. She kissed his forehead and pulled away to find her tarot deck. “But I am proud that you took that seriously. It obviously stirred something. Let me do a quick reading for you and then we can both get to bed.”

Yuta waited as she set up the deck and drew a six of cups, reversed. He sighed. Intense nostalgia; feeling caught in the past or with a past self. That much was obvious.

Yuta’s mother smiled at him softly. “Whatever this is, it’s holding you hostage in memories and longing.” He nodded, remembering his earlier conversation with Mark where they couldn’t seem to stop dwelling on an idealized highlight reel of teenage shenanigans. Right. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Not really.” Yuta yawned. He didn’t know if it was because he was actually tired or because he wanted this to wrap up.

Mrs. Nakamoto started packing her cards back up. “That’s alright. You should get some sleep anyway. Good night, dear.”

“G’night.”

***

Yuta gave back into coughing the minute he’d crossed the threshold to his room. He ran to the small trashcan next to his desk, still full of bottles from the night before, and heaved into it so hard he thought his eyes might pop out. Finally though, he had a twinge of relief when the thing that had been caught in his airway materialized on his tongue and his trachea cleared fully for the first time all day. He reached into his mouth and plucked out the offending object, holding it between his fingers over the trash. It was long and yellow and smooth, shaped like the wooden paddles Donghyuck’s ice cream shop gives out for testers.

A horrifying thought crossed Yuta’s mind as he rolled the delicate yellow petal softly between his fingers, watching it disintegrate under his touch and the acid of his saliva. He turned to the bouquet on the coffee table to his left, shivering as he caught a glimpse of the sunny yellow rays of petals adorning each of the three baby sunflowers in the vase. His heart dropped into his feet.

Of course.

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takerfoxx · 5 years ago

Text

IM Swiftly Descending Darkness, Chapter 5

Mokou already felt that something was wrong, and the moment she came into view of the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home all but confirmed it.

The house was quiet. The lights were on, all of the outside lanterns were lit, but there was no one in sight. The surrounding fields and the garden were all empty.

If there was something that could be counted on at the orphanage, it was that it was never quiet. Even in the evening after the kids had been brought it one could count on seeing someone about, such as Joshua up on a ladder along the side of the house, repairing a loose window, or Haruna relaxing on the porch.

But there was nobody in sight, and while it was late afternoon, it was still before the time when the kids would be brought in.

Mokou felt a rare flash of fear, a very rare sensation for her. She tightened her fists and threw everything into a final burst of speed.

The house rushed up to her. She spun around, directed her feet toward the front path, and hit the ground running. From there, she sped up the path, her bare feet kicking up clouds of dust, and leapt up the stairs toward the-

Front path.

Mokou skidded to a stop and looked around in bewilderment. Now she was facing away from the house, as if she had been running away from it instead of toward.

Also, she was pretty sure she had heard someone yell “Ow!” from inside.

Mokou turned back toward the house. For the most part it looked the same, but there did seem to be something off about it, something she hadn’t noticed coming in.

Tilting her head to one side, Mokou squinted her eyes. Sure enough, all around the front porch were strange refractions of light, rippling out like the surface of a pond disturbed by a pebble.

Huh.

Mokou took a slow, deliberate step forward into the field of disorientation. Her vision quickly spun around, and she found herself facing away from the porch again. At the same time, someone yelped, “Damn it!”

It Mokou a moment to realize what was going on. That had to be Haruna. Haruna’s particular gift was the ability to essentially flip reality, to turn it back around on people. Which sounded like something that would be immensely useful, but unfortunately she was unable to maintain it over a large area for very long, and if anyone or anything actually got flipped by it, it gave her a massive headache.

Rather than subject her friend to a skull-splitting migraine, Mokou cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Hey! It’s me! Let me in!”

Immediately a clamor of voices sounded within. “It’s Miss Mokou!” she heard Tomohiro say. “Let her in! Quick!”

“How do we know it’s actually her?” Shinji retorted. “Maybe it’s another youkai, one that just sounds like her!”

Melissa said something very quick and frantic-sounding in Spanish.

Rolling her eyes, Mokou called out again. “Look, either you guys let me in, or I’m gonna start walking toward the porch over and over again until Haruna’s head splits like an egg, okay? It’s me!”

“That’s her,” Satoko’s voice said. “Let her in, Haruna.”

The shimmers dropped, and Mokou heard the sound of the front door’s heavy lock being unbolted.

She rushed inside. There, she saw the most of the kids huddled into a tight group while some of the other adults stood protectively over them. Mokou hastily shut the door behind her and relocked it.

“What happened?” she demanded.

Haruna was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase with her aching head clutched with one hand, with Haruhi standing over her, holding onto her other hand. Sniffing, Haruhi glowered at Mokou with wet and puffy eyes. “Where were you?” she said.

“What? I was getting information like I said I would!”

“Well, you should have been here! You could’ve stopped this, stopped them from…from…��

“Enough!” Satoko said. She was standing with Akito crying in her arms, her normally stern features now a mix of anger and fear. “This isn’t the time to tear into one another! I know we’re all scared and upset, but I’m the one who asked Mokou to go look for answers. If you have to be mad at someone, be mad at me.”

Haruhi just shook her head and ran off.

Mokou took a deep breath and hissed it out through her teeth. “What. Happened?”

“It was youkai,” Satoko said. Her eyes were wet with tears, her face shimmering with sweat. “Wild spider youkai apparently. Five of the kids accidentally wound up outside of the charms during flying lessons. The spiders just…just showed up and took them.”

Mokou looked over the group and took a quick headcount. Noba was sitting in a nearby chair, his head in his hands, with his friends Shinji, Tomohiro, and Kazuchika with him. Check. The younger boys, specifically Yoshi, Hiro, Keiichi, Dai, and Yuuki, were in another group, whispering amongst themselves. Check. Melissa, the only girl present, was pacing back and forth, wringing her hands together as she muttered under her breath in her native language. Check, And Akito was in Satoko’s arms. Check.

However, more than five children were gone. Both of the terrible trios were absent, as was Melissa’s fellow oddball Kana.

“Who?” she said.

Satoko sighed. “Hayate, Haruko, Eiko, Kana, and Keine.”

Each name felt like a hammer-blow to her heart, but when she got to Keine Mokou felt something hot and powerful unlock deep within her. Because while she was fond and protective of all the children, Keine was kind of her favorite. Keine had been part of the trio that had rescued her from the snow in the first place. Keine had been the first to reach out to her after she had been brought in, the first to form any kind of relationship with her when all the other children had been too scared to talk to the mysterious and dangerous stranger now in their midst.

“What about the rest?” Mokou said. “Where’s Kohta and Rumia?”

“Upstairs,” Satoko said. “They, uh, understandably wanted to be alone.”

Right, that made sense. After all, it was their friend that had been taken.

Five kids. Five little girls, taken by spider youkai.

Mokou knew the habits of wild spider youkai, she knew them very well. Some spiders were nice. Some were quite friendly people, in fact. But others were not. Others were the sort that did terrible things to other people, that did terrible, horrible, absolutely monstrous things to children. And she felt quite certain that these were of that latter category.

Mokou closed her eyes and mentally counted down from ten. “And you just let them?” she snapped before she had even gotten to four.

Haruna quickly cut in. “We did everything he could, kid,” the rough-looking woman said. “Joshua tried to stop them, we both did. But they were ready for us. Hit us with some kind of web. Then they just flew off.”

Joshua. He was missing too. And so was Shion.

“Where is Joshua?” Mokou said. “And where’s Shion?”

“Shion flew to go get help,” Satoko told her. “Old Pine Village still supports us, and it’s the closest, so she went there.”

Old Pine Village. Right. That also made sense, but Satoko had only answered one of her questions. “And Joshua?”

Satoko bit her lower lip. “He went after them.”

The air around Mokou was starting to grow hazy. She heard several of the children whispering to one another, saw them draw away from her. “After them,” Mokou repeated. “After whom? To where?”

“The youkai. He went after the youkai. He said that he couldn’t let them take…take them to…”

Of course he did. Mokou closed her eyes. “And where did the youkai come from?” she said, her eyes still shut. “Where did they take the kids?”

“We don’t really-”

Mokou’s eyes snapped open. The haze around her vision was now a film of red.

Satoko gasped and backed away. Akito stopped crying, and just stared.

“I know,” Mokou growled. “I know where they came from. I know where they took them. The Youkai Forest. Of course it is.”

“Mokou, your eyes,” Satoko said as she covered Akito’s with her hand. “They’re glowing!”

Mokou knew this. Mokou didn’t care. “They took them to the Youkai Forest, and Joshua went after them! That’s where they are now, that’s where he is now, isn’t it?”

Satoko’s mouth wordlessly opened and closed like a fish’s, then she stuttered. “Y-Y-Yes, th-that does seem to be the most likely-”

“Most likely my ass! Look, I’ve spent the last few days hunting down whatever news I could, and what I found out is that some weird shit is going on in that damn forest, and someone from outside the forest is causing it!”

“Wait, say that again?” Haruna said. “You mean to tell me-”

“I said what I said, now get out of my way!” Mokou roared.

Haruna backed up. She hadn’t backed away from anyone in years, but she did so now, though not quick enough. Mokou shoved her aside and made for the stairs.

Children parted like ants from a flood, and Haruna hastily made herself scarce. Mokou stomped her way up, leaving blackened footprints sizzling on every step.

She was coming close to losing it. She was coming close to losing all control and just letting the raging fires that burned within her at all times just burst free. That didn’t happen often. Even at her most violent, when her life had been an unceasing cycle of pain and death, she had been careful to restrict it to a single person, someone who both deserved it and could take it.

But there had been a small handful of times, oh so very few, in which she had been pushed too far, when all other options had failed, when she had been confronted by an evil so sickening that her own monstrous soul paled in comparison and the only option was to cleanse everything with fire.

Mokou was not at the point yet. But she was getting close.

She threw open the door to her room and went straight for her dresser. She yanked the bottom drawer straight out and hurled it aside. Then she reached into the empty cavity and pulled out a small oak box.

It was this box that she set on the bed and opened up. Inside were two stacks of aging, yellow paper rectangles, all covered with a series of characters. In between them was a pile of old red-and-white ribbons. The characters on the left-hand stack were all the same, indicating them to be charms that protected against fire. Similar characters were written on the ribbons.

Mokou took those charms and stuck them all over her pants. Then she picked up one of the ribbons and muttered a word. In response, the entire pile fluttered up into the air. They surrounded her like a swarm of butterflies, and then dove in, tying themselves into bows through her long locks of hair. Mokou anticipated violence where she was going, and that meant a great deal of fire was probably going to be slung around. If that happened, then she’d rather not come home naked.

The second stack was smaller, and the runes and glyphs inscribed on each card was different. They were spellcards, each one containing an easily unleashed burst of offensive magic. Along with the glowing magical bullets known as danmaku, Spellcards were the preferred weapon of Gensokyians, and having a few on hand could be the difference between life and death.

Mokou picked up her stack of spellcards. She flourished them like a magician playing a trick to impress children, folded them back up again, and stuck them into her pocket. All right. Now she was ready to go.

Then, before she went through the door, she paused. Wait a minute.

Mokou took the cards out of her pocket and inspected them. It was as she had thought. She was supposed to have twelve cards, but there were only nine. Three of them were missing.

“Satoko!” she yelled.

“What?” Satoko was already at the door, sans Akito. “What is it?”

“My spellcards!” Mokou thrust the nine she had at her. “Who took them?”

Satoko blinked in confusion. “What do you mean? You’re holding them.”

“Only some! Three are missing! Did Joshua take them?”

“Uh, no? H-He took one of the usual anti-youkai packs we have in storage. I don’t think he even knew you had those.” Satoko frowned. “Actually, I didn’t know you had those. Did you have a stash of spellcards this whole time?”

Mokou barely heard the question. Her mind was racing, filtering through the list of likely culprits.

She ruled out Satoko, Haruna, and Haruhi immediately. Of the three, only Satoko had ever even been in her room, and if she had taken her spellcards she would have told her without apology. Besides, she probably would have taken the whole deck if it meant protecting the kids.

Shion, maybe? To give her some extra protection on her trip? Incredibly unlikely. Shion also had never been in her room and had no way of knowing of her stash. So it had to be one of the kids. But which one would-

“Wait,” she said. “Wait, wait, wait. You said Rumia and Kohta are up here, right?”

“Well, yes,” Satoko said. “They had locked themselves in the playroom. But-”

Then realization washed over her face, draining it of color. Her hand went to her mouth, and she turned and ran.

“Kohta!” Mokou heard her calling. “Rumia? Answer me!”

Mokou didn’t follow. She didn’t need to. She already had pieced together what had happened.

Those little idiots. Those brave, loyal, infuriating idiots!

The spiders had five of their kids. There was one adult looking for them, and he was just as helpless as they were in his own way. And apparently two more kids had gone in on their own.

That was eight people she needed to find in a large and dense forest, eight people that were in very mortal danger and weren’t even all in the same place.

When Satoko returned to Mokou’s room after having confirmed that Rumia and Kohta were nowhere in the house, she found it empty with the window shattered outward and a trail of smoke still rising in the open air beyond, one that led all the way to the Youkai Forest.

��

Rumia and Kohta’s decision to sneak out and go after the spiders that had taken their friends had been easy enough. After that display in the market, they could not trust anyone to come to their aid, and while Mr. Joshua was a good guy, he wasn’t exactly the first person that they would have selected to mount a successful rescue operation, especially by himself.

Getting out of the house had been easy. Mr. Joshua and Miss Shion were both gone, Miss Haruna had her hands full with shielding the house, Miss Haruhi was a flustered wreck, and all of Miss Satoko’s attention was given to trying to keep things in order. So the second no eyes were on them, they had broken into the emergency defense closet, already left conveniently unlocked by Mister Joshua, and took a pair of anti-youkai knives and some charms. Then Kohta had snuck up into Miss Mokou’s room to raid her own stash of weapons, coming away with three of her spellcards.

Once they had been appropriately armed, the two of them had crept into the basement, stole through the larders to the outside door so as to bypass Miss Haruna’s shield, and off they went.

It had been so easy, but when the two of them were actually away from the fields and taking their first steps into the forest, Rumia found herself kind of wishing that there had been more resistance. After all, the Youkai Forest was not quite as notorious as its larger and darker cousin, the Forest of Magic, but its reputation was plenty dark enough.

As it was in the middle of autumn, most of the trees had shed their needles, with left the pair with plenty of moonlight to see by. It was a small comfort. The naked branches reminded Rumia far too much of gnarled skeletons grasping at the sky with bony fingers. The ground was painfully uneven and covered with a thick layer of rotting needles and bark, which made moving forward slow and tedious. Though morning was still hours away, a wispy mist lay around the trees’ base, further slowing their progress.

And of course, there were the noises.

Every hoot of an owl, every snap of a twig sent shivers down the two children’s spines. Rumia had heard plenty of stories of children who wandered into woods such as this and were never seen again, at least not in one piece. Normally she loved those stories, with their macabre tones and gory endings. But it was one thing to recount such ghastly tales to her trembling friends while using her scary voice and laughing at how much it made them shake. It was something else entirely to be willingly stepping foot into one of those tales herself.

Then there were the other stories, the ones with similar set-ups but different endings, the ones in which the lost children would also never come home, but not because they were killed, but because the forest ended up changing them, turning them into something other than human, dooming them to forever wander the forest’s dark paths, looking to become the monster in someone else’s story.

Though she would never admit it, those were the stories that scared Rumia the most. Her own family had been killed by marauding youkai. Had any of them been lost children themselves? What if the same happened to her? What if she were doomed to become some red-eyed, sharp-toothed thing that devoured the families of other children? The first time she had heard one of those stories, she had been unable to sleep for most of the night. Every creak of the old house had sounded like the soft footsteps of some dark thing, every whisper of wind at the window seeming to call her name, while the moonlight made even the smallest of shadows elongate across the floor, stretching out and reaching for her.

Rumia’s hand was clasped tightly to Kohta’s, and for once neither of them had a joke.

They moved forward as quietly as they could, taking care not to disturb the forest debris beneath their feet. In this they were doing…poorly. It felt like something crunched with every footstep, and by the time they had gone out of side of the forest’s edge Rumia was convinced that every animal and youkai for kilometers had been alerted.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

“Maybe-” she started to say.

Kohta flinched. “Ah! Gods, you scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry. But maybe we’d better go back.”

Kohta stared at her like she had grown two heads. “And let Keine get eaten?”

“No! But we don’t know where she is. We can’t help her if we get eaten too!”

Kohta sneered at her in disgust. “No. I’m not abandoning her. Go back if you’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Rumia said stubbornly. “I just don’t, you know, I just don’t think-”

“Shhh!” Kohta clamped a hand over her mouth. “Look!”

There was a light up ahead, bobbing through the trees. The two children looked at each other. Rumia gulped. If there was one universal truth in all the stories they had heard, it was that mysterious lights floating through creepy old forests at night were bad news!

The two crouched behind a tree and peeked out. The light hadn’t been their imagination. It was slowly moving through the woods about twenty meters from where they were. What was more, there seemed to a dark, shadowy figure following it. Rumia couldn’t make out their features, but it didn’t seem very tall.

“Is that a ghost?” Rumia whispered.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Kohta whispered back.

Despite the severity of their situation, the stupidity of that comment made Rumia just stop worrying about the light and stare at her friend in shock. “Kohta, that might be the dumbest thing I have ever heard you-”

“Keeeeeiiiiiiinnnnnneeeeee!” the dark figure suddenly called out, its warbling voice echoing through the night.

Rumia and Kohta both ducked out of sight.

“Kaaaaaaannnnnnnnaaaaaaaaa!” the voice called. “Eeeeeiiiiiiiiikoooooo!”

Rumia was shaking all over. It was a ghost, a dark phantom mournfully crying out the names of their probably dead friends, doomed to forever wail the names of the deceased like an eternal eulogy for the-

“Oh,” Kohta said. “It’s him! Mr. Joshua!”

Rumia slowly breathed out. He was right. “Great. I thought we were in a different part of the forest than him.”

“I guess not. Let’s go before he sees us.”

Kohta started to leave, but Rumia tugged sharply on his hand. “Wait,” she said. “Maybe we’d better go to him.”

“No way!”

“But-”

Kohta wrenched his hand from hers. “Look, if you’re too scared, then you go talk to him! He’ll probably just have to take you back, and he’ll just stop them from searching! Keine and the others could die while he’s doing that! We came out here to help find them, not make the rescue take longer!”

Rumia winced. That was a very good point. Sighing, Rumia just nodded and got up to follow.

The pair stealthily moved away from the other search searcher. It felt like it took forever, but eventually the light disappeared, as did the sound of Mr. Joshua’s voice. The only sound was that of their footsteps crushing leaves and sticks.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

When she was absolutely certain that they were alone, Rumia said, “There’s no such thing as ghosts? Really?”

“Well, I’ve never seen one,” Kohta said, somewhat defensively.

“Wow,” Rumia said. “Wow.”

“Look, everyone knows that when you die, your soul gets taken across the River Suzune by the Shinigami! That’s just the rules! You don’t get to stick around haunting your old house and-”

“Shhh!” Now it was Rumia’s turn to slap a hand over her friend’s mouth.

Kohta shut up, though he was obviously bursting with questions.

Rumia pointed a finger. When Kohta saw what she did, he made a low whimpering sound.

There was a clearing up ahead, a circle clear of trees and bathed in moonlight. There wasn’t much in it other than patches of wild grass and some small stones. However, sitting directly in the center was a…something, something that Rumia could only see the basic shape of. It was large, hulking, and had a pair of great elk antlers protruding from the top.

Rumia shied back. It was one of the great monsters of the forest, it had to be! How many stories of had she grown up hearing of the dark spirits that wandered these woods, of their bloodthirsty dispositions and their taste for the flesh of children?

She tugged on Kohta’s hand and tilted her head back the way they came. Maybe if they crept away as slowly and quietly as they could, they could get away without attracting its attention.

“Wait,” Kohta whispered, his eyes somehow narrowing even further as he studied the towering silhouette.

Rumia gawked at him in disbelief. Wait? Why should they wait? They needed to get away from that thing right the hell now!

However, Kohta didn’t seem to share her rational fear of whatever the thing in the clearing was. “I don’t think it’s alive,” he whispered again.

Rumia quite frankly didn’t care. Lots of things weren’t alive. That didn’t make them any less likely to kill the two of them!

However, Kohta was not to be deterred. He began to slowly creep around the clearing, keeping his eye on the thing. And since she couldn’t pull him away without making a racket, Rumia was forced to go with him.

The silhouette didn’t move as they circled around it. Rumia bit her lower lip to keep from whimpering in fear as she watched its horned head, just waiting for it to suddenly turn toward them.

It didn’t.

“I think-” Kohta started to say, right before Rumia slapped a hand over his mouth. She gawked at him for being so stupid as to talk with that thing so close.

Kohta rolled his eyes. He pulled Rumia’s hand off and inclined his head toward the silhouette.

Rumia looked again. Come to think of it, it didn’t look like any kind of creature. Instead, it seemed kind of rough and misshapen. However, it did have a definite shape, one with a high and wide back and-

“It’s a chair,” Kohta sniggered. “That’s all it is. A chair.”

Rumia shot him a dirty look, but he was right. It was a chair, a great big chair made of stone and covered with moss, sticks, and even a few mushrooms.

“A chair. You were scared of a chair!”

Rumia flicked him in the ear. “That still doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous and evil! It’s probably like some kind of cursed throne!”

Kohta shrugged. “Well, okay, but it’s not doing anything.”

Rumia ignored him. She wanted to see what the horns were all about.

She continued to circle around the clearing, bringing the front of the chair into view. It was still hard to make out the details, but her eyes had adjusted pretty well to the darkness, and there was plenty of moonlight to see by. Just a little further, just a little further…

Then Kohta inhaled sharply. Rumia swallowed.

There, seated in the chair, was an amalgamation of bones, seemingly collected from a dozen different creatures. Big bear bones, slender bird bones, and even Human bones, all carefully pieced together in a massive humanoid shape swathed in ragged clothes that swirled in the night breeze.

And seated on the top of its shoulders was a grinning bear’s skull affixed with a pair of elk antlers.

“What the hell?” Rumia said.

“I…” Kohta took a step backward.

Rumia shot him a look. “Still think it’s not scary?”

“I…” Kohta’s face had gone pale. “Maybe we’d better, you know, leave it alone.”

Then the horned bear skull turned to fix its empty eye sockets right at them.

Rumia gasped and Kohta made a sound like he had gotten kicked in the gut. The two spun around and ran from the clearing as fast as their feet would take them.

…

“Eeeeeiiiiikoooooo!” Joshua called.

There was no response. He had been tramping through the forest for the better part of an hour now, and still had found nothing. No response, no tracks, no any sign of the kids or the monster that had taken them.

He was starting to get frantic. The youkai had flown through the air during their retreat. What if they simply had dropped down into the forest right at their lair? If so, then there was probably no trail to be found. He was just going to wander around aimlessly until something ended up picking him off as well.

Pushing those dark thoughts from his mind, Joshua muttered a short, terrified prayer under his breath. Those had been coming with greater regularity the longer his search went on, and they were becoming increasingly desperate.

Then something cracked under his feet.

Joshua paused, and then stepped back. He knelt down.

It was another pile of bones, those of some kind of big cat. From the look of things it had been dead and picked clean of meat for weeks, and now all sorts of things were growing all over its ribs and vertebrae.

Joshua closed his eyes. Actually, he hadn’t found nothing. He had been finding plenty of bones. No Human bones yet, thank God, but that might have already changed.

In his mind’s eye, he saw the ravaged and defiled remains of the children, their flesh and meat ripped from their bones and gobbled down, their bloody skeletons left for the scavengers and the remains of their clothing left to rot, until exposure to the elements erased all trace of their existence, leaving no evidence that their had ever been a Haruko, a Kana, a Hayate, an Eiko, or a Keine.

It was a horrific fate, and it happened all the time. There were probably bones from a few hundred children scattered all over the forest.

Joshua refused to let it happen to his.

He rose up and set off again. “Haaaaaaruuuuuuuuukooooooooo!” he called. “Can you hear-”

Something seized him by the back of his collar. Before he could react, he was swung around and slammed backfirst into a nearby tree trunk, with a forearm thrust across his windpipe.

Gasping like a fish, Joshua looked up to see two blazing red eyes in a coldly beautiful face, one framed by locks of shimmering silver hair with bared teeth.

“Quiet, you idiot!” Mokou hissed. “Do you want to get yourself eaten? Because this is how you get yourself eaten!”

…

“Stop,” Kohta panted. “Stop. It’s not chasing us.”

Rumia might have argued the point, but to tell the truth she was willing to take any excuse to stop running. She was young and active, but hadn’t had to run that fast for that long before. Even footraces back home had only lasted a few seconds.

The two children collapsed in the shelter of a gnarled tree as they tried to catch their breath. Despite being completely out of breath and nursing aching legs, Rumia still made a point of checking to see if Kohta was correct.

Sure enough, there was no sign of a bony amalgamation pursuing them, though honestly it was so dark that simply not being visible didn’t count for much.

“What was that?” Kohta said.

“How the hell should I know?” Rumia said. “Seems like no matter how many stories we hear about this place, someone always has a new one.”

“Well, I guess now there’s one more.”

“I guess.” Then, despite the direness of their situation, Rumia couldn’t resist sneering at him. “So, still don’t believe in ghosts?”

Kohta sighed. “Oh, shut up, Rumia.”

“Seriously, that is easily the dumbest thing I have ever heard you say.”

“I said, shut up, Rumia!”

Rumia did so, though she didn’t stop smirking.

After a while Kohta said, “Hey. Do you hear that?”

Rumia did, actually. In fact she had been about to ask Kohta the same question.

There was a low buzzing sound, like hundreds of insects beating their wings, barely perceptible over the sound of their own breathing, but now that it had been pointed out it was clearly not her imagination.

“Yeah.” Rumia’s face twisted up in confusion. “What the hell is that?”

Kohta shrugged.

Now there was a second sound, a deep, bass pulsing, like a sluggish heartbeat.

Something rustled the leaves nearby, beyond a tall tree. The two children tiptoed toward the tree. As they did, the buzzing grew shriller and shriller, until Rumia could feel it in her teeth. As for the thumping pulse, that only grew deeper and deeper, until Rumia could feel it in her gut.

They pressed their backs to the tree and peeked out around it.

Beyond the tree was a short but steep incline into a leaf-covered depression. And standing in those leaves with its back to them was a…a thing.

It was humanoid, with two legs to stand upon, a torso were a torso ought to be, two arms dangling from its shoulders, and an oval-shaped head on those shoulders, but that was where the similarities ended. Its was just so horribly long and thin, with sticklike legs taller than either one of the children were, an emaciated body twice the length of a normal Human man at less than half the thickness, and arms that hung down to its knees. Its head was completely hairless, with beams of moonlight shining off of its pale dome. It wore a form-fitting outfit of black, and its flesh was as white as bleached bones.

The pulsing grew louder, or maybe that was just Rumia’s heartbeat. There was no question about it now, no “maybe it’s evil and maybe it’s just a pile of rocks and bones.” This was an actual youkai monster, one of the evil wanderers of the Youkai Forest.

The slender creature didn’t seem to have noticed them. It was calmly loping forward, taking long and slow strides, its footsteps barely disturbing the leaves. Rumia looked over to Kohta and tilted her head in the opposite direction. Kohta nodded.

Then the creature paused, and everything fell silent. The buzzing stop, as did the pulse.

Rumia and Kohta went stiff.

The creature raised its head, as if sniffing the air. It reached up with one disturbingly long arm to touch the branches up above.

Then the buzzing returned, and Rumia swore she heard voices in it. The pounding returned as well, staring off slow but building to a thundering percussion, as the slender creature slowly turned around to look over its shoulder directly at them.

It had no face. From its pointed chin to the round dome of its head was nothing but a blank expanse of skin.

Oh, screw this!

With nothing left to gain from hiding, Rumia and Kohta again spun around and fled.

…

“Mokou, wait!” Joshua said, holding up a hand. “Just calm down, okay?”

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Mokou shook her head in disgust. “Damn it, Josh! The hell are you even thinking? Walking about in the open like this, hollering away like a crazy person, it’s a miracle that every youkai in a hundred kilometers hasn’t zeroed in on you! Hell, maybe they have! Maybe you’re just lucky I got to you first!”

Joshua had to admit that she had a point. Certainly his way of searching hadn’t exactly been wise. But damn it, what was he supposed to do?

“I was just-”

“I know! You wanted to go save the kids! I heard the whole thing. But by the gods, Josh! How the hell are you supposed to help anyone if you get eaten before you even find them? Or for that matter, even if they do hear you hollering, how are they supposed to answer? They got taken by spiders! Spiders always at the very least gag their prey, and you’ll just let those crawly fucks know you’re coming!”

To this, Joshua had no answer.

“And if your God decides to blow all of your accumulated good will in getting you there unnoticed and undevoured, the hell where you planning to do then? Fight them? Sneak the kids out without any of them noticing? They’re spiders! They probably got them all webbed up, and you don’t even know how to fight to begin with!”

Joshua slowly breathed out. “Yes, I do.”

“What?”

“I do know how to fight. I’ve done it before. A lot, actually.”

Mokou stared at him. “Oh, yeah? You mean back where you came from? In the Outside World?”

“Yes,” Joshua admitted.

“Well, that’s great and all, but that won’t help you here! The rules of fighting are totally different, and you don’t have any of your fancy Outside World weapons to help you!”

“I know how to use danmaku,” Joshua said. He pointed a finger at a nearby bush, and a spray of glowing blue orbs shot out to pulverize its leaves. “I can shoot bullets just fine.”

“Well, goody golly-licious for you,” Mokou said as she sarcastically clapped her hands. “So do they! And they’ve been using it a long longer than you, and definitely more regularly! Have you ever even gotten into a danmaku battle before? Ever had to shoot your bullets at someone outside of fun or practice?”

Joshua bowed his head. “No.”

“Well, I guarantee that they have! Probably pretty regularly at that! You’ll be lucky if you even managed to nick one of them before they riddle you full of holes! And then they’ll eat you!”

“I brought this though,” Joshua said as he slid the anti-youkai knife from its sheathe. He held it up so Mokou could see the runes on its handle. “This will-”

Mokou’s hand suddenly came up, smacking the bottom of the knife. Taken by surprise, Joshua’s hand reflexively popped open and the knife sailed up and away.

Mokou snatched it out of the air. “You see how easily I did that?” she said, pointing the blade at the dumbstruck man. “You are completely out of your depth here. So go home, Joshua. Go home and let me handle this.”

As flustered as he was, and as embarrassed as he was, Joshua still managed to keep his shaking legs planted on the ground beneath him. “No,” he said.

“No?”

“No. I’m not going back.” Joshua said. “Don’t you understand? I was the ones watching those kids. They got taken under my watch! I can’t just stand aside and do nothing!”

Mokou’s face twisted up in annoyance. “Oh, spare me from kind-hearted fools!” she groaned as she slapped a hand across her own face. “Josh, I have exactly zero time for your guilty conscience, so back off and leave this to the professionals! Specifically, me!”

Joshua was a fair bit shorter than Mokou and thus had to incline his head to look her in the face. As such, he was in the perfect position to take notice of something moving in the branches behind her. Something with gleaming orange eyes. “Mokou…” he said.

“Because if any of those kids got hurt because you held me up, then I swear-”

“Mokou, watch out!”

The shadow had leapt from its branch right at Mokou’s back. Joshua reached up to grab Mokou by the arm in hopes of pulling her out of the way.

Several things then happened, either at the same time or in such quick succession that it might as well have been at the same time.

First, the moment that Joshua’s hands closed around Mokou’s arm, it abruptly swung to the side, lifting him right off his feet and hurling him to the ground.

The second was the sound of something whistling through the air right over his head, something fast enough for him to feel the wind of its passing.

The third was a feminine voice grunting in pain and surprise.

Joshua rolled onto her back and sat up. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting to see, but what he found waiting for him surely wasn’t it.

Mokou was standing balanced on one leg, the other held straight out, her foot shoved up against the throat of another woman. The woman was of medium height and slender in build, with grey-ish blue skin, softly glowing orange eyes, and bright orange hair tied into a pair of pigtails. She was wearing a sleeveless black-and-blue striped blouse, a tattered purple skirt, and black-and-orange stripped leggings. On her hand she wore a sort of cap that had a pair of floppy horns made of felt.

Mokou had her pinned up against a tree, and she was clawing at the foot pressing at her larynx.

“Juniper Spice,” Mokou said. “Well, as I live and breathe.”

Joshua gawked at her. “Wait, you know this person?”

“We’ve met,” Mokou said. “We’re not friends.”

The youkai woman identified as Juniper choked and coughed. “I…I didn’t know…it was you,” she said. “I didn’t!”

“Yeah, well, tough.” Her foot still keeping Juniper trapped, Mokou flicked Joshua’s knife up between her fingers.

A second later Joshua realized what she intended. “No! Mokou, wait!”

It was too late. Mokou hurled the knife. It sailed straight and true to embed itself right in Juniper’s forehead, neatly between her eyes.

Juniper’s whole body jerked and she let out a small squeak. Then, as bright red blood ran down her nose, her whole body started to convulse.

As Joshua stared in horror, Mokou lowered her foot. Juniper stayed where she was, shaking and writhing as black steam rose up from where the knife was stuck. Foamy spittle bubbled up from her mouth to drip down her chin.

Then she slumped lifelessly, and her body began to dissolve.

Orangish vapor billowed into the air to disappear, and when it had all dissipated, nothing was left of Juniper Spice, no evidence of what had happened to her save for the knife itself, which was still partially embedded in the trunk of the tree.

“You killed her,” Joshua said in disbelief.

Mokou calmly grabbed the knife’s handle and yanked it out. “Uh, yeah? She was trying to kill us. Hell, she probably had been stalking you for some time. If I hadn’t come along she would’ve gotten you.”

“But…”

“Relax, Josh. She’s a youkai. Getting smoked like that is part of their everyday life. Give it a few minutes, and she’ll come right back with a bad mood and a healthy amount of respect.”

“You…Wait, are you sure?”

Sighing, Mokou tossed the knife into the dirt in front of Joshua. “Yes, Josh. I’m sure. I’ve killed her before. For fuck’s sake, you’ve been in Gensokyo how long? This is basic youkai stuff.”

“Oh.” Despite having lived in Gensokyo for many years, there were still some aspects of it that he had trouble wrapping his head around. He picked up the knife and stood up.

Mokou looked around and sighed. “You’re really set on saving the kids, aren’t you?”

Joshua slid the knife back into its sheath. Then he looked up into Mokou’s eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”

“Fuck,” Mokou muttered. “If I send you back you’ll just get snapped up. Gods only know how you made it this far.” She shook her head and sighed. “Fine, fine. Tag along if you must, but stay out of my way, don’t slow me down, don’t do anything stupid, and as much as I like you, if it comes down to either saving you or saving the kids, I’ll be sure to say something nice at your funeral. Got it?”

Harsh, but completely fair. “I understand.”

“Fine.” Mokou turned and headed off. “Keep up, then. Rumia and Kohta went off on their own to search as well, so we have to find them too.”

Joshua stumbled. “Wait, they did what?”

“You heard me! Now shut up and keep up!”

…

“Okay,” Kohta panted as he leaned up against a tree. “I think…I think we lost him.”

The effort of trying to catch her breath had bent Rumia down over her knees. “You think?” she got out between gasps.

“Well…he hasn’t…caught us…has he?”

“Maybe…maybe he’s…in the trees…and…” Something tickled Rumia’s ear. “Stop touching me!”

“I’m not.”

“Then…what was…”

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The two children froze.

Crunch. Crunch. Rip. Snap.

“Is that it?” Rumia whispered. “Is it coming?”

“I don’t…it doesn’t really sound like footsteps.” Kohta tried to straighten up, but then suddenly jerked back. “Hey!”

“Huh?”

“I’m stuck! Something’s sticking to me!”

Something tickled Rumia’s ear again. She slapped it away.

Her hand was suddenly filled with several silky, sticky strands.

“Uh…” She pulled it away from her head. In her hand was something thinner than paper and glistening white.

She then slowly looked up to where Kohta was still trying to free himself from the trunk of the tree. The tree was covered with the stuff, like a paper sheathe.

“Kohta, stop,” Rumia whispered.

“What?”

“Look…up.”

Catching her tone, Kohta swallowed and obeyed.

The entire forest around them was draped with what looked like a silk net. It covered the tree trunks, it was laid across the tree branches, it was even laid across the forest floor in places. Here and there things that looked like giant moth cocoons hung from the branches. One or two of them were twitching. Most of them were not.

Rumia felt the blood drain from her face. Those were no cocoons.

“Webs,” Kohta said hoarsely. “Spiderwebs.”

Crunch. Munch. Slurp.

The two children exchanged one brief look. Then Rumia hastily ripped the web from her fingers and seized Kohta’s arm with both hands and yanked with all her might, ripping him free from the trunk.

“We need to-” Kohta started to say.

Crunch.

Something had broken under Rumia’s feet. The two of them looked down.

A half-buried Human skull grinned up at them, webs draped over it like a burial shroud. Rumia’s foot had landed right onto its right eye socket, caving it in.

“Ah!” Rumia was about to run again, but then Kohta’s hands clamped down on her bicep.

“No!” he hissed. “Get a grip! You start running and screaming again, and the spiders will hear us!”

Every instinct in Rumia was screaming for her to completely disregard Kohta’s point and run as fast as she could while screaming as loud as possible.

But she had done that twice already. And each time it had just sent her into an even scarier situation. So she bit back on the screams she felt rising and slowly removed her foot from within the skull.

Then they turned in the direction of the sounds. Up ahead was a ring of web-covered trees, and within seemed to be a small clearing.

The sounds were coming from the clearing, and between the web-covered trees she could see movement.

Rumia and Kohta exchanged a glance. Then, gripping tightly to each other’s hands, they crept toward the clearing, careful to avoid the webbing on the ground and anything that might be another pile of remains.

The clearing was playing host to a ghastly scene. The whole place was draped with webs, and weirdly enough there was furniture scattered about. Rumia saw a bookshelf filled with what looked like odd trinkets and weird bones; a hat stand holding a top hat, a bonnet, a straw hat, and a weird thing that looked like a stripy inverted funnel; a grandfather clock; a few easy chairs; a cabinet holding chipped tea cups; and four beds. Strapped to four of the trees along the perimeter was a child, each of their bodies partially wrapped up like decaying mummies. Rumia’s heart skipped a beat. Keine was among them, her face pale and her body limp. Rumia couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not.

Fastened to another tree was Kana, who for once was silent. And next to her was Haruko, and next to Haruko was Hayate.

Unlike the others, Haruko was wide awake and staring. Her mouth was gagged with webs to keep her from screaming, but judging by the look in her eyes she would if she could. She was staring at what was happening in the center of the clearing.

There, the four spider-youkai that had attacked the Children’s Home were gathered. Now that Rumia saw them up close, they seemed even more monstrous than they had when viewed at a distance in the bright sunlight. They seemed to be the kin of that slender thing in the woods, with limbs that were twisted, elongated, and malformed, with twice as many joints than they ought to have. Their necks were longer than they had any right to be, and their grey hair almost looked like spiderwebs themselves. Two of them were wearing torn and filthy dresses, one that once had been white with blue stripes and the other a color that might have been orange once. Another had on a long, red coat over a shredded black shirt and a black skirt. The one male had on the remains of what had once been tailored black slacks, a black vest hanging unbuttoned over a filthy white shirt, and a grey tie hanging loosely around his neck like a noose.

All four of them were paying little attention to their ensnared captives. They were crouching on their haunches around a dinner table, tearing at something with their hands and mouths. Rumia couldn’t make out what it was, but she caught glimpses of something red. One of the spider-youkai raised its head. Blood was running down its gaunt face, and there was something white and stringy hanging from its mouth. It gulped it down and ducked its head back down again.

Then a human arm flopped out of the cluster. It was wearing a black sleeve, and a pale hand hung limply at its end. Blood ran down the fingers to drip to the ground.

Rumia’s hand went to her mouth. By process of elimination there really was only one person that could be.

Eiko.

“Oh my gods,” Kohta whispered, so low that even Rumia barely heard him. “Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods.”

As for Rumia, she didn’t have the stomach even for whispered curses. Sour nausea twisted up her gut, and she was able to keep from retching by constantly reminding herself that the spiders would hear the noise and eat them as well.

The two of them had never liked Eiko. She had been whiny and nosy and pretty mean most of the time, always doing whatever Haruko had told her to do, always butting into their business and helping push around the smaller kids.

But sweet spirits, nobody had ever, even in their darkest, most private fantasies, wished something like that upon her!

If there was one blessing that could be gleaned by the whole terrible scene, it was that the four spider-youkai were so absorbed with feasting on poor Eiko’s remains that they were paying no attention to either their remaining captives or the two invaders that had trespassed on their nest.

It was time.

Rumia knelt down to spit out the wad of saliva her nausea had produced and swallowed back as much of the sick feeling as she could. Then she tugged on Kohta’s sleeve and angled her head toward where the other kids were being held.

Kohta’s eyes went wide and he emphatically shook his head.

Baring her teeth, Rumia pointed to where Keine was hanging. Then she pointed at the gruesome feast.

Kohta’s face twisted up as the impulse to flee joined forces with the sheer terror surging through him and waged war on his desire to save his friends. In the end the latter won out, and he let out a small sigh through his nostrils and nodded.

The two of them crept around the clearing, careful not to step on anything too loud, especially careful not to keep glancing over at what the spiders were doing, but it was difficult.

Fortunately, the other kids weren’t fully cocooned like the other bodies they had seen. They only had a couple silk restraints splattered onto their wrists and calves, pinning them to the tree trunks. Webs were also smeared over their mouths as gags, though the spiders had left their eyes free, probably to make them watch.

The first that they reached was Hayate, unfortunately. Rumia and Kohta produced the knives they had brought along and went to work. The webs were strong enough to keep her from tearing away on her own strength, but they parted like grass beneath the steel blades. The enchantments were working.

Hayate seemed to have passed out, but after they managed to free one leg and one hand she began to stir. She didn’t look at all well though. Even with the tremendous scare of what she had been through, her skin felt cold and clammy. Even in the pale moonlight Rumia could see dark veins on her arms and around her neck.

As they worked to bring her down, Rumia glanced at the other kids. Haruko, the only one still awake, had noticed them. She was staring with wide eyes, her hands twitching beneath the webs. She glanced quickly at what the spiders were doing to her friend and then back at them, silently begging them to hurry.

As Rumia and Kohta lowered Hayate to the ground, she started to come around. Rumia started to cut away the gag, but then Kohta covered her hand and shook his head. For a moment Rumia was confused, but then she understood. Hayate was going to be confused and scared when she woke up, and if she screamed, that was it for all of them.

Sure enough, Hayate opened her eyes moments later. She blinked groggily and squinted up at them. She frowned in bewilderment, as if she had no memory of where she was or why she was there.

But then enough pieces apparently pieced themselves together in her mind and her eyes suddenly bulged out.

“Shhh!” Rumia slapped a hand over Hayate’s gagged mouth to prevent any sound from escaping. “Quiet!” she hissed into the terrified girl’s ear. “We’re here to save you, but you have to be quiet!”

Hayate was trembling violently, but she managed a slight nod.

Hoping that she would keep her word, Rumia and Kohta then turned their attention to the next bound captive, which thankfully was Keine.

Keine also had weird veiny blotches on her skin, but she started stirring more quickly when Rumia and Kohta touched her. They hastily cut the sticky strands away and brought her down to the ground.

“Keine!” Kohta whispered. “Can you hear me?”

Keine sleepily blinked her eyes. She moaned beneath her gag.

“Shhh!” Kohta put his face right in front of hers so that she would be able to read his lips. Don’t say anything. Youkai are near. Stay still and quiet.

Keine blinked. Then she stiffened as the memories caught up with her. She glanced at him and Rumia and nodded as well. However, she did sit up and throw her arms around the two of them, and they did the same. Though she was still tense with fear and revulsion, Rumia finally felt a small bit of hope. They had gotten Keine back. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but they at least had her.

Keine, at least, could be trusted. She angled her head to one side and let her friends cut away her gag. Once it was out of the way she started clawing at her mouth and silently gagged as she tried to get rid of any remaining strands. One particularly large wad made her shiver with disgust.

Rumia caught sight of Hayate staring at them. Once she had Rumia’s eye, the other girl pointed at the wad of silk covering her mouth. Rumia shook her head. Hayate blinked, then she scowled and let out an angry snort.

Two down, two to go. And the next was the one that they wanted to save the least. Still, there were some things that even blood feuds were suspended for.

Haruko had been watching the whole time. As they approached, the only two fingers she had free started to rapidly beat against the tree trunk.

“Stop it!” Rumia hissed. “Do you want them to-”

“Oi!”

One of the spiders suddenly turned toward Haruko, his neck curving around like a snake. Rumi and Kohta ducked out of sight.

“Stop makin’ dat noise!” the spider growled, his voice thick and gummy. “If yer so impatient, den it’ll be yer turn once we’re done wit’ yer itty-bitty friend ‘ere!”

The other spiders laughed, and they all went back to their meal.

Rumia forced herself to release the breath she had been holding. Her heart was still pounding away like a war drum though.

Baring her teeth, she set back to work, cutting away at Haruko’s left hand and leg while Kohta worked on her right side.

Once she was free, Haruko had no problem with being led behind the tree and out of sight. She immediately threw both arms around Kohta’s shoulders and squeezed him tight while she hyperventilated.

Rumia’s right eye twitched, but she did nothing.

Kohta winced but tolerated it, though Rumia suspected that was more due to no wanting to risk attracting attention than respecting Haruko’s feelings.

“Okay, okay,” Kohta muttered with an awkward pat on the bat. “Um, you gotta let go. Seriously. I need to go help Kana. Let go, please.”

Rumia rolled her eyes. Then she saw that Hayate was up on her knees and was slowly crawling toward Haruko, her hands outstretched and tears pouring from her eyes.

That should work. Rumia took her by the elbow and helped her come in closer. Then she jostled Haruko’s shoulder to get her attention. Once Haruko saw that Hayate was near, she immediately abandoned Kohta to seize her remaining friend in another squeezing embrace, and unlike Kohta, Hayate was more than happy to reciprocate.

Kohta shook his head and sighed. Then he caught the look Rumia was shooting him.

What? he mouthed.

Rolling her eyes, Rumia just went over to where Kana was hanging.

The weird girl looked like she was the worst off. The dark veins were more pronounced on her skin, and she was sweating profusely. What was more, she didn’t stir at all when Rumia and Kohta started working to free her.

Rumia swallowed. She prayed to whatever meager gods that would hear her that Kana was still alive and kept cutting.

The girl barely seemed to weigh a thing as they took her to the others and laid her down. Keine, who seemed to have shaken off whatever the spiders had done to her quicker than the still tearfully embracing Haruko and Hayate, knelt down at Kana’s side. She leaned over to place her ear against Kana’s chest while holding a finger under her nose. Rumia held her breath as she waited for the diagnosis.

Keine sat back and nodded. She held up a hand with her index finger and her thumb only a few centimeters apart. Rumia and Kohta understood. Kana was breathing, but only just. They needed to get her back as quickly as possible.

Kohta crouched down and lifted Kana onto his back. He nodded to the others and tilted his head back the way he and Rumia had come. They started to creep away, but then Hayate seized Rumia by the arm. She jabbed a finger at the web still covering her mouth.

Oh, fine. Rumia pulled out her knife and went to work cutting it away. Like the others, Hayate gagged as she spat out all the gunk in her mouth.

“All right,” Rumia whispered. “Now let’s go!”

Hayate looked at her like she had lost her mind. “No!” she whispered back. “What about Eiko? We can’t leave Eiko!”

Rumia felt like she had been kicked in the gut. Oh gods, Hayate had passed out before Eiko had been eaten. She didn’t know!

Seeing the way everyone was looking at her, Hayate just stared back in confusion. “What? Why are you guys-”

“Welp, dis one’s ‘bout done,” one of the spiders said suddenly. “Onta da second course!”

“All right, all right, keep yer pants on. Which one?”

“Betta make it da ‘ickle blonde bit. She dun’t look like she got much left in ‘er, so we’d bedda get ‘er on da table while she’s still fresh.”

Oh shit.

“Go, go, go!” Kohta whispered.

The hurried away, with Haruko practically dragging the still-confused Hayate along.

“Hey, da fook?” a spider called out. “Where’d da ‘ickle morsels go?”

“Are ya fookin’ serious? Dey was jus’ dere!”

“Well, dey ain’t now!”

“Damn it all. Spread out and search! Dey couldn’t ‘ave gone far!”

The horrible sound of scrabbling filled the air. The children increased their gait.

Then a horribly long arm snaked out of the trees in front of them. It ended in a slender hand with fingers that looked as long as Rumia’s forearms, each topped by a pointed nail caked with dirt and drying blood.

The hand planted itself on the ground, the elbow bending at an unnatural angle. Another such arm came into view, the hand grabbing onto a tree trunk.

A gaunt face followed, one with hollow cheeks, a pointed chin, and dark hair that hung around the face like a funeral shroud. The face’s eyes were sunken and dark, each with four tiny white pupils that glimmered like candles in the dark. Dark blood still was smeared around its pale lips.

The face swung around on its elongated neck to leer at the children. “Well, well, well, what have we ‘ere?” the spider said as she ambled out of the clearing. “A wee ‘ickle rescue attempt? ‘ey, chaps! C’mere!”

The other spiders ambled their way toward her, one loping his way on the ground while the other two crawled across the trees. “You ‘ave got ta’ be fookin’ kiddin’ me,” growled the male spider.

“Nah, see? Dey missed deir friends so much dat dey come ‘ere ta’ try ta’ save ‘em! Ain’t dey precious?”

“Precious ‘ickle dumplin’s,” growled another. “So kind dey are. Now we ‘ave enough for breakfast an’ dinner tummarah!”

Rumia couldn’t move. Fear had frozen her feet in place. She couldn’t even blink. All she could do was stand stiff and still and stare as the four malformed monsters crawled ever closer.

This is it, she found herself thinking. This is how I die. Ripped apart like my family. And I still couldn’t save anyone. What a stupid way to go.

Then some blue and glowing shot through the air to splash against the lead spider’s cheek.

The one that had been hit flinched back. She held a claw to the point of impact. “Da fook was…”

Then everyone, spider and child alike, turned to stare at the culprit.

Haruko was standing with one hand outstretched, index and middle fingers pointing out, while she held onto her wrist with the other hand. Every centimeter of her was shaking with fear, but it was clear that she had been the one responsible.

“You can shoot bullets?” Kohta said in disbelief.

Haruko glanced at him and nodded. Then she inhaled sharply and fired another blue projectile.

This one glanced off the spider’s shoulder. This time, she looked more annoyed than anything. “Really?” she growled. “Fookin’ danmaku. Sorry, chitlins. But youz is playin’ a grown-up’s game.” She lifted a hand, which then began glowing purple. “But if it’s a danmaku battle yah be wantin’, den Auntie Edna is more than ‘appy to play!”

Before Edna could fire off her first round, Kohta let go of one of Kana’s legs to thrust his hand into his pocket. When he drew it back out, it was holding onto a small piece of paper.

“Uh, hit the deck!” he screamed as he tossed the paper forward. Then he threw both himself and Kana to the ground and covered his eyes. Everyone else did the same. Even the spiders flinched back in anticipation of the spellcard attack.

Nothing happened.

Rumia looked up. The spellcard was lying on the ground, obviously not activated. The spiders, who had all retreated back and covered their faces, were now lowering their arms and glancing at one another.

“Huh,” the male said. Then the four of them leered back down at the children. “Well den.”

“You idiot!” Hayate screamed. “You have to say the spellcard’s name!”

“Huh? Oh, right!” Kohta snatched the card back up and thrust it forward again as the spiders resumed their advance. “Phoenix Sign: Magnificent Inferno!”

And then the forest erupted with light.

…

I have a new policy. If I get an idea that would certainly have upset and disturbed kid me, I do it.

Until next time, everyone.

#the touhou project #touhou #imperfect metamorphosis #fanfic #rumia #mokou #Fujiwara no Mokou

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