HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPY NEW YEARRRR :3
a teaser? a first part? ~2k.
notes:
koichi. 光一 ＝＞ 光 light ・ 一 first
tsuyoshi. 剛 ＝＞ 剛 strength
tsuyoshi. 剛史 ＝＞ 剛 strength ・ （歴）史 history
yonehana. 米花 ＝＞ 米 rice ・ 花 flower
tsubasa. 翼 ＝＞ 翼 wing
the naming of names
"Are you the Domoto?"
Koichi turns and smiles, pushing his long sleeves back. There's ink smudged on the formerly pristine white and his hair falls in dishevelled strands around his face.
The sky is startlingly blue and the figure standing on the bare branches of the oak tree stands out in sharp relief.
"No," Koichi says, serene. "But I am a Domoto." A pause and the figure spreads his wings, large and black, backlit against the sun. He smiles and Koichi can see his teeth, just a little too uncomfortably sharp. "Will you come in for tea?"
The tengu laughs.
Koichi arrives first, even though his home is days travel further from the capitol. On horse, though his escort as small as it is travels on foot, because the branch family knows enough the importance of appearances, even though the scion of the main family will not deign to appear til later. He brings with him all his belongings: books and white robes, knives and a string of bells around his wrist, charmed to ring against danger.
There's danger here, Koichi thinks when he's presented to the court, bowing low for the emperor and stills the bells with a touch. The royal courtesan - kimura, a voice whispers on the edge of his mind - gives him a long, measured look; like a banked fire, waiting.
Koichi inclines his head to a precise angle and stares out through his eyelashes - the family retainers will leave tomorrow and the intricacies of the court are his own to puzzle.
Slowly. Slowly, he tells himself and thanks the servents that lead him to his rooms. He'll be sharing, he's told: the other Domoto will be here by tomorrow. A few minutes later and the rice paper doors whisper open again - another servent, bearing a note.
Clumsy inkstrokes on delicate paper: the poetry is weak at best but Koichi finds himself smiling over the three line haiku, traces his fingers over the bold strokes of the name. Nagase Tomoyo.
Dark hair and eyes, the house whispers to him. Koichi sets out incense. Laughter, it tells him in a voice that lingers on the edge of hearing, heartbreak. He gets the image of a man, tall and strong, large hands and golden skin gilded by lamplight.
"Oh," Koichi murmurs and brushes his hand fondly against the wooden walls. "Thank you."
It's an invitation, to Nagase's quarters tonight when the moon rises for some sake and conversation. A welcome, the note says, for future friends.
There's hours yet, so Koichi takes up ink and paper and writes a short poem in reply.
the fall moon rises
heavy with expectations
it floats, waiting. Yes.
He pulls a strip of paper from his sleeve and flicks it straight. It's uncreased, the ink bright and fresh and he takes it outside to throw it straight up. A murmur and there's a swirl of wings, feathers and dark eyes - a dove. It takes the message from his hands with an affectionate brush of feathers against Koichi's cheek, then it's gone.
Koichi watches it go and waits.
The tengu's wings are tattered at the edges, long trailing feathers that reach the floor. He rustles them and folds them high, off the polished floorboards, when he steps in - past the wards that Koichi had painted in ink and his own blood.
Courteous. Koichi remembers his lessons and offers his guest a seat while he goes to make tea.
"You're strong," the tengu says, sudden.
Koichi's motions still. "Am I?" he asks, lightly.
"The Domoto bloodline is well respected."
There's a gentle clink of the teapot being put together. "Maa," Koichi says, more an exhalation than anything else. "My name is Koichi."
"Koichi," the tengu repeats. He traces a character on the dark wood table - it flares bright for the briefest second, and he smiles. "Light."
The whispers of the house grow silent. Koichi brings the tea tray to the table, graceful. "Were you ever named?"
"Once." A laugh and shivers skitter down Koichi's spine. "Long ago. They're all dead now."
"Sou," Koichi says and pours the tea, one hand pushing back his trailing sleeves, practiced and elegant. Tea requires ceremony - the tengu's eyes spark appreciatively.
"They called me Yonehana." Rice. Blossom. He traces the characters that fade like embers.
"For the crops you protected."
"It was a long time ago."
"Strength," Koichi says, dipping his finger in his tea and sketching the characters. "Through history."
"Tsuyoshi," Yonehana reads. "A good name."
"The other Domoto," Koichi smiles, looking down and wipes the history away.
"Fleeting."
"Aren't we all, to you?"
Yonehana laughs and takes a sip of his tea. His wings sweep on the floor behind him, bringing in tattered, fallen leaves and dust. "It's a good name."
"Will you accept it?" Mild and curious, Koichi takes another sip and peers over his teacup, slantingly opaque.
The characters on the table flare brighter and Yonehana retraces 剛史 over the drying trails of Koichi's words. "It's sad to be alone."
"Not forever," Koichi says and smiles, brighter than bright.
Nagase leads him outside when the moon is high and round. Waxing to full, for tomorrow when the other Domoto comes - full moons are are power, when the barriers between spirit and material fall to silk thin transparencies.
The moonlight that gilds them is silver and cold, though the autumn air still holds the warm tinge of summer.
This, too, will pass and they step on the crackle of dried, dead leaves blown by the wind onto the covered outside paths.
Nagase pours for them both, chilled sake in shallow drinking cups, paper thin porcelein that the moonlight shines almost through. Nagase is of higher rank, related to the emperor himself and Koichi isn't sure what to make of it, but dips his head in thanks and thinks that he can feel the burn of Nagase's eyes on his neck, bared by the layers of robes.
"The moon's very pretty tonight," Nagase says, offering Koichi a sake dish.
Koichi takes it and laughs. "I hadn't noticed."
"By which I mean," Nagase says, shifting the slightest bit closer. "I think you're ACK-"
Nagase splutters with a faceful of sake and the shadow that had darted between the two of them, jostling his arm up, runs across the wide courtyard. A cat - small and thin and dark - and its tail waves tauntingly before it disappears into the shadows beneath the house.
"Oh," Koichi says, wide eyed.
"Hell," Nagase swears and wipes at his eyes with his sleeve. A proferred square of cloth stops him and he looks up to Koichi's smile.
"You must have annoyed him," Koichi says, amused.
Nagase laughs ruefully and pushes his wet hair away from his face, screwing up his nose. "Something like that," he agrees. "That cat's always had it in for me. I must have interrupted him and his lady-cat going at-" He stops and laughs, a little too loud and awkward. "Um."
Koichi laughs so hard that he has to lean against Nagase's still damp shoulder for support, ignoring the glowing eyes that watch them carefully from the shadows.
Later, when the moon is high and distant, Kochi stumbles back to his room with a little unseen help. He's flushed and a little giddy; Yone's laughter rings in the back of his mind and the flutter of black wings escorts him
A few steps in and Koichi pauses where his wards are drawn, the ink faded into the wood without a trace. He reaches up and brushes a hand over them, smile never fading.
That night, he sets out a saucer of milk, just outside the sliding doors and sleeps with the faint sound of chiming in his ears.
The other Domoto - the Domoto - arrives late in the morning, sweeping in with an elaborate escort of guards and servants. Family members - the main branch is large and sprawling; Domoto Tsuyoshi will inherit it all.
Koichi meets him at the gates, garbed in his best regalia. His robes are pristine and white and ribbons weave in his sleeves and collar, another tied around his wrist - bright red, for luck.
When he bows low, he can barely hear the persistant cacophony of bells over the thud of his heart.
Tsuyoshi is his height and they look eye to eye when Koichi straightens. But Koichi looks away almost immediately, from a gaze that is a little too deep, too opaque for comfort. One that lingers, careful.
"You'll do," he says finally and Koichi's hands clench into fists, hidden by his sleeves.
Only part of Tsuyoshi's retinue stays with them, the others sent to sort out the horses or housed overnight in the dorms - a large, affiable looking man with horns hidden in his curls, and a young man who hides his wings in his shadow. and another, Koichi hears, an uncertain warning. hidden. waiting.
Even though Koichi is there and can well show them all to the rooms that they'll be sharing, one of the emperor's nephews is there to be their guide. "Hideaki," he introduces himself - forty sixth from the throne and only a minor official, but Amaterasu's blood runs strong in him. A name as bright as his spirit - Koichi can hear the chatter of the house tsukumogami around him.
"And you are?" Hideaki asks, chipper, at Tsuyoshi's silent shadow.
"Tsubasa," the answer comes reluctantly, with a shadowy rustle of his hidden wings.
Koichi's eyes are drawn against his will to Tsubasa's shadow and Yone's laughter is loud in his ears. Tsuyoshi looks sharply over his shoulder from where he's studying Koichi's wards and the laughter stills.
"That's a beautiful name," Hideaki enthuses. "It suits you."
Koichi has to bite his lip. Tsubasa looks as if he's considering if human flesh is as sweet as legends say.
"If you'll excuse us," Tsuyoshi interrupts, deadpan. "We are tired from the journey."
"Of course," Hideaki flutters, looking appalled at his own bad manners, and leaves in a flurry of humble apologies and polite nothings. Tsubasa's feathers slowly, slowly unruffle.
There's silence for a moment except for the quiet hush of their slippered feet against the tatami. Koichi moves to make some tea.
"You're Domoto Koichi," the oni says, and his horns are maybe a little longer, his teeth a bit sharper when he smiles, wide. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."
Koichi smiles. "No more than I you."
"I'm Akiyama. Akki," Akiyama says enthusiastically, coming forward to grip Koichi's hands tightly in his own. Koichi blinks. "I've been serving the Domoto clan for years and I can't wait to-"
"Oh," Tsuyoshi interrupts blandly. He has a hand over the wards, which glow like sunlight beneath his fingertips, red through his hands. Blood magic - like calling to like. "Did I mention that with Tsubasa and Okada here, I don't really need you to stay?"
Akiyama looks heartbroken.
"My escort had to return home," Koichi offers, gently trying to tug his hand back. Akiyama doesn't let go. "Perhaps you could-"
"KOICHI-SAN!" Akiyama bursts out, immensely grateful, and tugs him in. Koichi flails and starts beating on his shoulder for the sake of his pristinely uncrumpled robes but it's all for naught.
Tsuyoshi smiles faintly at him over Akiyama's shoulder.
"Tsubasa-san is a tengu, right?"
Tsubasa looks closely at Koichi, but there's only sincere curiosity and widely blank eyes. He nods, careful.
"Yonehana-san is also," Koichi says, something like paternal pride in his voice despite the fact that they met only yesterday (a day, Yone laughs, is like half a lifetime in human years) and beckons Yonehana in.
Yonehana unfolds from the shadows of the oak tree, starkly outlined branches on dirty gold that melt into tattered feathers. Comes forward - and the wards flare to life, red threads crossing the open doors.
Yonehana presses his hands to them, testing their give. They glow a little strong, a little brighter but he doesn't move back. Koichi blinks.
"You shouldn't let just anyone into your rooms," Tsuyoshi says mildly. The house stills. Tsubasa moves in silently to continue making tea, abandoned by Koichi.
"He's not just anyone," Koichi says, polite.
"Isn't he?"
Akiyama laughs nervously. The Domoto ignore him, though Yone smiles, the red light casting a strange glow on his features. Inadvertently, Akiyama takes a step back.
"He's mine," Koichi says. "Like Tsubasa-san is yours."
Akiyama brightens. "Does that mea-"
"He's unkempt," Tsuyoshi points out, a touch of disapproval in his voice.
Koichi smiles faintly. "It matches me." It's not a challenge.
"Better than-" Tsuyoshi makes an aborted gesture that Akiyama is too busy bemoaning fate to notice.
"Well enough," Koichi says and laughs, startlingly clear in the tension.
"Akiyama's been with the family for a long while," Tsuyoshi says, deliberately casual. He's back at the wards again, separated from a grinning Yone by only the threads of the combined Domoto power.
"Time," Yonehana interrupts. "Is very much relative." He leans harder on the strings of red, testing his weight. Tsuyoshi looks at him.
The wards wink out without warning and Yonehana stumbles, his wings spreading out for balance.
"Come in," Koichi says, paces behind Tsuyoshi's shoulder.
Yonehana shakes out his wings and comes through, smile like the gathering storm.
"He's kinder than I thought," Koichi tells Yonehana over cooling, untouched cups of tea after Tsuyoshi goes for an audience with the emperor.
Yonehana looks at him like he's crazy.
It's only after days that Koichi sees Okada with his own eyes, though another teacup is laid out for him with no comment. It disappears when Koichi turns his back and is set down moments later, the liquid disappearing a sip at a time.
Okada appreciates good tea. Good breeding, Yone says, and the Okada line has been tied to the Domotos for eras. Human - or mostly. Koichi can't sense him, but Koichi doesn't know many things about Tsuyoshi and his clan.
"They're your clan too, you know," Yonehana laughs at him.
Koichi looks away, turning the tea cup in his hand. Three times, before take a delicate sip. "They are, aren't they?"
Yone laughs again, like the wind ruffling through autumn leaves. "Haven't you dealt with the main branch before?"
"Mmm," Koichi says, dipping his head with a half smile. "My family is one of the smallest offshoots. We're pretty self contained."
Yone raises an eyebrow. "And you were sent to the capital?"
"For his abilities," Tsuyoshi says. Koichi starts violently, splashing his tea onto the table as he whips around. Tsuyoshi smiles at him from the door, hands folded inside his sleeves. "Two are always sent."
"From the main branch," Yone says, unruffled.
"And one from elsewhere. The main house is not jealous."
Yone knows this land, steeped in blood, fertile from the bones that rest there. He's watched the people come and go, waiting, rarely noticed. The Domotos have always been housed in the same few rooms and his tree, old and spreading, shades over it. A ruffle of dusty wings and Yone tilts his head, smirking.
"Tsuyoshi-san's abilities are far greater than mine," Koichi says, an edge of hysteria-tinged laughter to his voice. His tea cup clatters loudly onto the low table when he sets it down and he swipes his damp fingers across the dark wood.
"Mmm," Tsuyoshi says. His footsteps are almost soundless on the tatami and he sits at the table next to Koichi, gracefully rearranging his robes. "I disagree."
"Eh?" Koichi says, looking up before he can catch himself. Tsuyoshi meets his eyes and suddenly, he can't look away.
"I'd like to see what you can do," Tsuyoshi says, startlingly sincere.
A heartbeat passes. Another. Tsuyoshi's gaze is steady and still; Koichi can't fidget away. The sound of bells ring low, mixed with the edge of Yone's silent laughter at the back of Koichi's mind.
The silence breaks on Koichi's laughter, nervous and high pitched, but it's Tsuyoshi that looks away first, shifting his focus a few inches to over Koichi's shoulder.
"Okada?"
"Tsuyoshi," Okada says and Koichi mourns silently for his spilled tea, surprised out of his hands and all over the table. Yone snorts.
Okada is unsurprisingly nondescript, dark eyes and hair, dressed in mottled shades of grey that blend into the shadows while not being part of them. His smile is friendly, normal, and Koichi thinks that he would be unforgivably striking were it not for the haze that he carried with him, unassuming.
Knives more than shadows, poison than spells. Dangerous in his own way.
Aren't you all? Yone asks, amused. Koichi dips his head to a precise angle, slanting a smile at Yone and thinks deliberately of Akiyama, surprised and dismayed this morning at the shredded wreckage of a pair of his pants, the flash of black fur with a blaze of white streaking across the polished floor.
"Is something wrong?" Tsuyoshi asks, ignoring Yone's muffled snicker.
Okada smiles ruefully and shakes his head. "Tsubasa's walk with Hideaki-san..."
"Tsubasa can take care of himself," Tsuyoshi says, amused. "He did agree to Hideaki-san's request." At Koichi's curious look, Tsuyoshi smiles faintly. "Hideaki-san is perhaps planning a slow and traditional courting."
Koichi's uprighted teacup goes skittering across the table again. Yone catches it neatly and hands it back.
"I think Tsubasa's going to eviscerate him," Okada says sheepishly and Tsuyoshi's smile spreads wider.
"He's always been good at fixing his own mistakes," Tsuyoshi says, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Hideaki-san's very nice," Koichi says reproachfully.
"His poetry's terrible," Yone adds because it's no secret that any mail delivered to the Domoto's suite is read by all.
Koichi snorts. "So's Nagase's."
"I could eviscerate him too," Yone offers, remarkably congenial and his smile echoes Tsuyoshi's, too sharp.
Koichi pauses. "That would be bad."
"Would it?" Tsuyoshi asks mildly.
"Nagase plays the koto too," Koichi says, not looking towards the painted screens that hide Tsuyoshi's 'room'. "I think you'd get along."
Tsuyoshi raises an eyebrow but before he can say anything, Okada clears his throat, polite but pointed. "Hideaki-san?"
"It's probably frowned upon to not save a member of the Emperor's family," Tsuyoshi says lightly, and turns to Koichi. "Let's go."
Koichi makes a startled noise but he finds he's on his feet anyway, one hand held in a surprisingly warm grip before it falls away. He's always been pulled along in Tsuyoshi's wake, even before they met, and this close he's powerless to resist.
Yone sits and sips his tea, waiting for Tsuyoshi's footsteps and Koichi's frantic mumbling to fade, for Okada's presence to wink out like a candle. The small portable stove, more a sturdy pot filled with coals and decorated with startlingly beautiful calligraphy, is lit and a kettle sits upon it, waiting.
"You can come in now," he says, abruptly some untimed interval later. "They're all gone."
Stubborn silence answers him. Grinning, Yone rises and stretches, deliberately turning his back to the wide-open sliding doors.
"Koichi-san changed the wards," he continues conversationally, taking his time to find another tea cup. "But you know that already." The cups are all mismatched in twos and sometimes three, many of them gifts sent to curry the Domoto favour. Thin, elegant porcelain glazed in the finest of colours - he picks one in deep green-blue, decorated with curves like abstacts of fish beneath still waters.
When Yone turns back, there's a figure sitting at the low table. Arms crossed tightly over his chest and the shadowy suggesting of a tail lashes behind him.
"It's sad to be alone," Yone offers mildly, sliding the tea cup across the table and filling it with practiced movements. Not quite as smooth as Koichi, but perhaps close enough.
A thin hand - dirt beneath nails smoothed to points - darts out and he holds the cup close, curled into the heat. One large cat-like ear flicks up, ragged and torn, and the eyes that peer out beneath the single shock of white hair, startling against the black, are large and bright.
"Shut up," Yara hisses, and Yone can only laugh.
links:
onmyouji
tengu
shikigami
Amaterasu
tsukumogami
oni
AND AN EXTRA SPECIAL BONUS.
akki (another name for an evil oni; yara ; yone ; maachin
diamondsjack's musical youkai. XD
notes:
koichi. 光一 ＝＞ 光 light ・ 一 first
tsuyoshi. 剛 ＝＞ 剛 strength
tsuyoshi. 剛史 ＝＞ 剛 strength ・ （歴）史 history
yonehana. 米花 ＝＞ 米 rice ・ 花 flower
tsubasa. 翼 ＝＞ 翼 wing
the naming of names
"Are you the Domoto?"
Koichi turns and smiles, pushing his long sleeves back. There's ink smudged on the formerly pristine white and his hair falls in dishevelled strands around his face.
The sky is startlingly blue and the figure standing on the bare branches of the oak tree stands out in sharp relief.
"No," Koichi says, serene. "But I am a Domoto." A pause and the figure spreads his wings, large and black, backlit against the sun. He smiles and Koichi can see his teeth, just a little too uncomfortably sharp. "Will you come in for tea?"
The tengu laughs.
Koichi arrives first, even though his home is days travel further from the capitol. On horse, though his escort as small as it is travels on foot, because the branch family knows enough the importance of appearances, even though the scion of the main family will not deign to appear til later. He brings with him all his belongings: books and white robes, knives and a string of bells around his wrist, charmed to ring against danger.
There's danger here, Koichi thinks when he's presented to the court, bowing low for the emperor and stills the bells with a touch. The royal courtesan - kimura, a voice whispers on the edge of his mind - gives him a long, measured look; like a banked fire, waiting.
Koichi inclines his head to a precise angle and stares out through his eyelashes - the family retainers will leave tomorrow and the intricacies of the court are his own to puzzle.
Slowly. Slowly, he tells himself and thanks the servents that lead him to his rooms. He'll be sharing, he's told: the other Domoto will be here by tomorrow. A few minutes later and the rice paper doors whisper open again - another servent, bearing a note.
Clumsy inkstrokes on delicate paper: the poetry is weak at best but Koichi finds himself smiling over the three line haiku, traces his fingers over the bold strokes of the name. Nagase Tomoyo.
Dark hair and eyes, the house whispers to him. Koichi sets out incense. Laughter, it tells him in a voice that lingers on the edge of hearing, heartbreak. He gets the image of a man, tall and strong, large hands and golden skin gilded by lamplight.
"Oh," Koichi murmurs and brushes his hand fondly against the wooden walls. "Thank you."
It's an invitation, to Nagase's quarters tonight when the moon rises for some sake and conversation. A welcome, the note says, for future friends.
There's hours yet, so Koichi takes up ink and paper and writes a short poem in reply.
the fall moon rises
heavy with expectations
it floats, waiting. Yes.
He pulls a strip of paper from his sleeve and flicks it straight. It's uncreased, the ink bright and fresh and he takes it outside to throw it straight up. A murmur and there's a swirl of wings, feathers and dark eyes - a dove. It takes the message from his hands with an affectionate brush of feathers against Koichi's cheek, then it's gone.
Koichi watches it go and waits.
The tengu's wings are tattered at the edges, long trailing feathers that reach the floor. He rustles them and folds them high, off the polished floorboards, when he steps in - past the wards that Koichi had painted in ink and his own blood.
Courteous. Koichi remembers his lessons and offers his guest a seat while he goes to make tea.
"You're strong," the tengu says, sudden.
Koichi's motions still. "Am I?" he asks, lightly.
"The Domoto bloodline is well respected."
There's a gentle clink of the teapot being put together. "Maa," Koichi says, more an exhalation than anything else. "My name is Koichi."
"Koichi," the tengu repeats. He traces a character on the dark wood table - it flares bright for the briefest second, and he smiles. "Light."
The whispers of the house grow silent. Koichi brings the tea tray to the table, graceful. "Were you ever named?"
"Once." A laugh and shivers skitter down Koichi's spine. "Long ago. They're all dead now."
"Sou," Koichi says and pours the tea, one hand pushing back his trailing sleeves, practiced and elegant. Tea requires ceremony - the tengu's eyes spark appreciatively.
"They called me Yonehana." Rice. Blossom. He traces the characters that fade like embers.
"For the crops you protected."
"It was a long time ago."
"Strength," Koichi says, dipping his finger in his tea and sketching the characters. "Through history."
"Tsuyoshi," Yonehana reads. "A good name."
"The other Domoto," Koichi smiles, looking down and wipes the history away.
"Fleeting."
"Aren't we all, to you?"
Yonehana laughs and takes a sip of his tea. His wings sweep on the floor behind him, bringing in tattered, fallen leaves and dust. "It's a good name."
"Will you accept it?" Mild and curious, Koichi takes another sip and peers over his teacup, slantingly opaque.
The characters on the table flare brighter and Yonehana retraces 剛史 over the drying trails of Koichi's words. "It's sad to be alone."
"Not forever," Koichi says and smiles, brighter than bright.
Nagase leads him outside when the moon is high and round. Waxing to full, for tomorrow when the other Domoto comes - full moons are are power, when the barriers between spirit and material fall to silk thin transparencies.
The moonlight that gilds them is silver and cold, though the autumn air still holds the warm tinge of summer.
This, too, will pass and they step on the crackle of dried, dead leaves blown by the wind onto the covered outside paths.
Nagase pours for them both, chilled sake in shallow drinking cups, paper thin porcelein that the moonlight shines almost through. Nagase is of higher rank, related to the emperor himself and Koichi isn't sure what to make of it, but dips his head in thanks and thinks that he can feel the burn of Nagase's eyes on his neck, bared by the layers of robes.
"The moon's very pretty tonight," Nagase says, offering Koichi a sake dish.
Koichi takes it and laughs. "I hadn't noticed."
"By which I mean," Nagase says, shifting the slightest bit closer. "I think you're ACK-"
Nagase splutters with a faceful of sake and the shadow that had darted between the two of them, jostling his arm up, runs across the wide courtyard. A cat - small and thin and dark - and its tail waves tauntingly before it disappears into the shadows beneath the house.
"Oh," Koichi says, wide eyed.
"Hell," Nagase swears and wipes at his eyes with his sleeve. A proferred square of cloth stops him and he looks up to Koichi's smile.
"You must have annoyed him," Koichi says, amused.
Nagase laughs ruefully and pushes his wet hair away from his face, screwing up his nose. "Something like that," he agrees. "That cat's always had it in for me. I must have interrupted him and his lady-cat going at-" He stops and laughs, a little too loud and awkward. "Um."
Koichi laughs so hard that he has to lean against Nagase's still damp shoulder for support, ignoring the glowing eyes that watch them carefully from the shadows.
Later, when the moon is high and distant, Kochi stumbles back to his room with a little unseen help. He's flushed and a little giddy; Yone's laughter rings in the back of his mind and the flutter of black wings escorts him
A few steps in and Koichi pauses where his wards are drawn, the ink faded into the wood without a trace. He reaches up and brushes a hand over them, smile never fading.
That night, he sets out a saucer of milk, just outside the sliding doors and sleeps with the faint sound of chiming in his ears.
The other Domoto - the Domoto - arrives late in the morning, sweeping in with an elaborate escort of guards and servants. Family members - the main branch is large and sprawling; Domoto Tsuyoshi will inherit it all.
Koichi meets him at the gates, garbed in his best regalia. His robes are pristine and white and ribbons weave in his sleeves and collar, another tied around his wrist - bright red, for luck.
When he bows low, he can barely hear the persistant cacophony of bells over the thud of his heart.
Tsuyoshi is his height and they look eye to eye when Koichi straightens. But Koichi looks away almost immediately, from a gaze that is a little too deep, too opaque for comfort. One that lingers, careful.
"You'll do," he says finally and Koichi's hands clench into fists, hidden by his sleeves.
Only part of Tsuyoshi's retinue stays with them, the others sent to sort out the horses or housed overnight in the dorms - a large, affiable looking man with horns hidden in his curls, and a young man who hides his wings in his shadow. and another, Koichi hears, an uncertain warning. hidden. waiting.
Even though Koichi is there and can well show them all to the rooms that they'll be sharing, one of the emperor's nephews is there to be their guide. "Hideaki," he introduces himself - forty sixth from the throne and only a minor official, but Amaterasu's blood runs strong in him. A name as bright as his spirit - Koichi can hear the chatter of the house tsukumogami around him.
"And you are?" Hideaki asks, chipper, at Tsuyoshi's silent shadow.
"Tsubasa," the answer comes reluctantly, with a shadowy rustle of his hidden wings.
Koichi's eyes are drawn against his will to Tsubasa's shadow and Yone's laughter is loud in his ears. Tsuyoshi looks sharply over his shoulder from where he's studying Koichi's wards and the laughter stills.
"That's a beautiful name," Hideaki enthuses. "It suits you."
Koichi has to bite his lip. Tsubasa looks as if he's considering if human flesh is as sweet as legends say.
"If you'll excuse us," Tsuyoshi interrupts, deadpan. "We are tired from the journey."
"Of course," Hideaki flutters, looking appalled at his own bad manners, and leaves in a flurry of humble apologies and polite nothings. Tsubasa's feathers slowly, slowly unruffle.
There's silence for a moment except for the quiet hush of their slippered feet against the tatami. Koichi moves to make some tea.
"You're Domoto Koichi," the oni says, and his horns are maybe a little longer, his teeth a bit sharper when he smiles, wide. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."
Koichi smiles. "No more than I you."
"I'm Akiyama. Akki," Akiyama says enthusiastically, coming forward to grip Koichi's hands tightly in his own. Koichi blinks. "I've been serving the Domoto clan for years and I can't wait to-"
"Oh," Tsuyoshi interrupts blandly. He has a hand over the wards, which glow like sunlight beneath his fingertips, red through his hands. Blood magic - like calling to like. "Did I mention that with Tsubasa and Okada here, I don't really need you to stay?"
Akiyama looks heartbroken.
"My escort had to return home," Koichi offers, gently trying to tug his hand back. Akiyama doesn't let go. "Perhaps you could-"
"KOICHI-SAN!" Akiyama bursts out, immensely grateful, and tugs him in. Koichi flails and starts beating on his shoulder for the sake of his pristinely uncrumpled robes but it's all for naught.
Tsuyoshi smiles faintly at him over Akiyama's shoulder.
"Tsubasa-san is a tengu, right?"
Tsubasa looks closely at Koichi, but there's only sincere curiosity and widely blank eyes. He nods, careful.
"Yonehana-san is also," Koichi says, something like paternal pride in his voice despite the fact that they met only yesterday (a day, Yone laughs, is like half a lifetime in human years) and beckons Yonehana in.
Yonehana unfolds from the shadows of the oak tree, starkly outlined branches on dirty gold that melt into tattered feathers. Comes forward - and the wards flare to life, red threads crossing the open doors.
Yonehana presses his hands to them, testing their give. They glow a little strong, a little brighter but he doesn't move back. Koichi blinks.
"You shouldn't let just anyone into your rooms," Tsuyoshi says mildly. The house stills. Tsubasa moves in silently to continue making tea, abandoned by Koichi.
"He's not just anyone," Koichi says, polite.
"Isn't he?"
Akiyama laughs nervously. The Domoto ignore him, though Yone smiles, the red light casting a strange glow on his features. Inadvertently, Akiyama takes a step back.
"He's mine," Koichi says. "Like Tsubasa-san is yours."
Akiyama brightens. "Does that mea-"
"He's unkempt," Tsuyoshi points out, a touch of disapproval in his voice.
Koichi smiles faintly. "It matches me." It's not a challenge.
"Better than-" Tsuyoshi makes an aborted gesture that Akiyama is too busy bemoaning fate to notice.
"Well enough," Koichi says and laughs, startlingly clear in the tension.
"Akiyama's been with the family for a long while," Tsuyoshi says, deliberately casual. He's back at the wards again, separated from a grinning Yone by only the threads of the combined Domoto power.
"Time," Yonehana interrupts. "Is very much relative." He leans harder on the strings of red, testing his weight. Tsuyoshi looks at him.
The wards wink out without warning and Yonehana stumbles, his wings spreading out for balance.
"Come in," Koichi says, paces behind Tsuyoshi's shoulder.
Yonehana shakes out his wings and comes through, smile like the gathering storm.
"He's kinder than I thought," Koichi tells Yonehana over cooling, untouched cups of tea after Tsuyoshi goes for an audience with the emperor.
Yonehana looks at him like he's crazy.
It's only after days that Koichi sees Okada with his own eyes, though another teacup is laid out for him with no comment. It disappears when Koichi turns his back and is set down moments later, the liquid disappearing a sip at a time.
Okada appreciates good tea. Good breeding, Yone says, and the Okada line has been tied to the Domotos for eras. Human - or mostly. Koichi can't sense him, but Koichi doesn't know many things about Tsuyoshi and his clan.
"They're your clan too, you know," Yonehana laughs at him.
Koichi looks away, turning the tea cup in his hand. Three times, before take a delicate sip. "They are, aren't they?"
Yone laughs again, like the wind ruffling through autumn leaves. "Haven't you dealt with the main branch before?"
"Mmm," Koichi says, dipping his head with a half smile. "My family is one of the smallest offshoots. We're pretty self contained."
Yone raises an eyebrow. "And you were sent to the capital?"
"For his abilities," Tsuyoshi says. Koichi starts violently, splashing his tea onto the table as he whips around. Tsuyoshi smiles at him from the door, hands folded inside his sleeves. "Two are always sent."
"From the main branch," Yone says, unruffled.
"And one from elsewhere. The main house is not jealous."
Yone knows this land, steeped in blood, fertile from the bones that rest there. He's watched the people come and go, waiting, rarely noticed. The Domotos have always been housed in the same few rooms and his tree, old and spreading, shades over it. A ruffle of dusty wings and Yone tilts his head, smirking.
"Tsuyoshi-san's abilities are far greater than mine," Koichi says, an edge of hysteria-tinged laughter to his voice. His tea cup clatters loudly onto the low table when he sets it down and he swipes his damp fingers across the dark wood.
"Mmm," Tsuyoshi says. His footsteps are almost soundless on the tatami and he sits at the table next to Koichi, gracefully rearranging his robes. "I disagree."
"Eh?" Koichi says, looking up before he can catch himself. Tsuyoshi meets his eyes and suddenly, he can't look away.
"I'd like to see what you can do," Tsuyoshi says, startlingly sincere.
A heartbeat passes. Another. Tsuyoshi's gaze is steady and still; Koichi can't fidget away. The sound of bells ring low, mixed with the edge of Yone's silent laughter at the back of Koichi's mind.
The silence breaks on Koichi's laughter, nervous and high pitched, but it's Tsuyoshi that looks away first, shifting his focus a few inches to over Koichi's shoulder.
"Okada?"
"Tsuyoshi," Okada says and Koichi mourns silently for his spilled tea, surprised out of his hands and all over the table. Yone snorts.
Okada is unsurprisingly nondescript, dark eyes and hair, dressed in mottled shades of grey that blend into the shadows while not being part of them. His smile is friendly, normal, and Koichi thinks that he would be unforgivably striking were it not for the haze that he carried with him, unassuming.
Knives more than shadows, poison than spells. Dangerous in his own way.
Aren't you all? Yone asks, amused. Koichi dips his head to a precise angle, slanting a smile at Yone and thinks deliberately of Akiyama, surprised and dismayed this morning at the shredded wreckage of a pair of his pants, the flash of black fur with a blaze of white streaking across the polished floor.
"Is something wrong?" Tsuyoshi asks, ignoring Yone's muffled snicker.
Okada smiles ruefully and shakes his head. "Tsubasa's walk with Hideaki-san..."
"Tsubasa can take care of himself," Tsuyoshi says, amused. "He did agree to Hideaki-san's request." At Koichi's curious look, Tsuyoshi smiles faintly. "Hideaki-san is perhaps planning a slow and traditional courting."
Koichi's uprighted teacup goes skittering across the table again. Yone catches it neatly and hands it back.
"I think Tsubasa's going to eviscerate him," Okada says sheepishly and Tsuyoshi's smile spreads wider.
"He's always been good at fixing his own mistakes," Tsuyoshi says, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Hideaki-san's very nice," Koichi says reproachfully.
"His poetry's terrible," Yone adds because it's no secret that any mail delivered to the Domoto's suite is read by all.
Koichi snorts. "So's Nagase's."
"I could eviscerate him too," Yone offers, remarkably congenial and his smile echoes Tsuyoshi's, too sharp.
Koichi pauses. "That would be bad."
"Would it?" Tsuyoshi asks mildly.
"Nagase plays the koto too," Koichi says, not looking towards the painted screens that hide Tsuyoshi's 'room'. "I think you'd get along."
Tsuyoshi raises an eyebrow but before he can say anything, Okada clears his throat, polite but pointed. "Hideaki-san?"
"It's probably frowned upon to not save a member of the Emperor's family," Tsuyoshi says lightly, and turns to Koichi. "Let's go."
Koichi makes a startled noise but he finds he's on his feet anyway, one hand held in a surprisingly warm grip before it falls away. He's always been pulled along in Tsuyoshi's wake, even before they met, and this close he's powerless to resist.
Yone sits and sips his tea, waiting for Tsuyoshi's footsteps and Koichi's frantic mumbling to fade, for Okada's presence to wink out like a candle. The small portable stove, more a sturdy pot filled with coals and decorated with startlingly beautiful calligraphy, is lit and a kettle sits upon it, waiting.
"You can come in now," he says, abruptly some untimed interval later. "They're all gone."
Stubborn silence answers him. Grinning, Yone rises and stretches, deliberately turning his back to the wide-open sliding doors.
"Koichi-san changed the wards," he continues conversationally, taking his time to find another tea cup. "But you know that already." The cups are all mismatched in twos and sometimes three, many of them gifts sent to curry the Domoto favour. Thin, elegant porcelain glazed in the finest of colours - he picks one in deep green-blue, decorated with curves like abstacts of fish beneath still waters.
When Yone turns back, there's a figure sitting at the low table. Arms crossed tightly over his chest and the shadowy suggesting of a tail lashes behind him.
"It's sad to be alone," Yone offers mildly, sliding the tea cup across the table and filling it with practiced movements. Not quite as smooth as Koichi, but perhaps close enough.
A thin hand - dirt beneath nails smoothed to points - darts out and he holds the cup close, curled into the heat. One large cat-like ear flicks up, ragged and torn, and the eyes that peer out beneath the single shock of white hair, startling against the black, are large and bright.
"Shut up," Yara hisses, and Yone can only laugh.
links:
onmyouji
tengu
shikigami
Amaterasu
tsukumogami
oni
AND AN EXTRA SPECIAL BONUS.
akki (another name for an evil oni; yara ; yone ; maachin
diamondsjack's musical youkai. XD