"Shuten Doji, ha? The old woman said something similar when we were attacked last time as well. Tsk, how troublesome...the ritual fell apart just as I was about to find out more. I wonder what caused that.
Yorimitsu sat down on a scorched beam, his breath rattling as his concentration wavered. Sabokura began to unravel. The rigid soot cross and the limbless, blind remains of Yoshiro evaporated. The smoke and ash dissolved into the wind.
"Inoue…!"
….
"Inoue, come out. Stop hiding. If I have to come find you myself, you will have to pay the price for that." Yorimitsu stared up at the vast, uncaring sky, his silver eyes cold and drained.
Rattle, Rattle!
A pile of debris shifted near a half-collapsed granary. Tiny, hesitant feet stepped forward. Inoue approached, moving with a silent, trembling gait until he bumped into Yorimitsu's leg.
"Tch. Look at you, you are a mess," Yorimitsu muttered. He reached down and scruffed him, pulling him up by the back of his neck. He had shrunk considerably, though he still retained his cat-like body; he was withered, so much so that he could fit easily within the palm of his hand.
"Ma… ma… Master," Inoue's voice cracked, a tiny, vibrating sound that barely reached his ears.
"Oh? So you can call me 'Master' now because you are in this state? Oho." Yorimitsu gave a dark, dry chuckle.
The adrenaline of the fight was fading, and the Kōkan that he had made with himself was coming due. He doubled over, a violent cough racking his chest. He raised his free hand to his mouth, pulling it away to find his palm slick with a fresh, dark coat of blood.
He stared at the red smear, then back at the tiny creature in his hand.
"I was lucky this time," Yorimitsu thought, his fingers tightening slightly around the tiny, trembling form of Inoue. "This time, Kōkan wasn't like it expected it to be; the price was too steep. I thought I was becoming better, but I am nowhere near that hag. She lived over three hundred years without breaking, and her power... it was on another level entirely."
His gaze lingered on Inoue.
"No... Master, please forgive me! It wasn't like that..." Inoue paused, his tiny voice shaking with a sob. "I was wrong. I will never do that again. Besides... It's not like I can even go back. When I went to the shrine, the others... they didn't recognise me. My source has changed. To them, I am no longer one of their kind. I am more akin to a Household Spirit now."
"Haa, that's a little price to pay for all that you have done."
Yorimitsu looked at him closely.
"Now that I am paying closer attention It is true, the Reiryoku radiating from him has undergone a fundamental shift. I can't feel it anymore, oily malice that most demonic beings possess. All I sense from him is a faint aura that I felt from natural spirits in the forest."
Inoue shivered under his gaze, his thoughts racing: "How could I ever dare betray him now? After seeing what he did to Yoshiro-dono... there is no way I want to experience that cycle of pain as well. At the end, there he was begging to be killed."
"Ahhh... how tiring. The sun is about to rise," Yorimitsu murmured. Sitting upright, a soft wind brushed against his skin, carrying the scent of ash and dew.
"Sometimes I wish I were like the wind," he whispered, his silver eyes softening for a fleeting second. "Drifting through the seasons with no worries in life... how marvellous would that be?"
But the moment passed. His eyes turned to steel once more as he stood up, his body screaming in protest.
"I still have so many questions for you, Inoue, but I guess they can wait. I have to get back to the academy by the Hour of the Bird. (Tori)
He raised his hand. The winds that had just passed him suddenly swirled back, spiralling around his whole body like dancer ribbons.
"Spirits of the Winds, Oh hear my plea I beseech thee," from his hand a single drop of blood fell to the ground. "Give me your swiftness."
The winds coiled tightly beneath Yorimitsu's feet, compressing.
Swooooosh!
He blurred his speed tens of times greater than before.
"What... did he get stronger?" Inoue thought, clinging to Yorimitsu's collar as the wind whipped past. "His control over the spirits is better... more refined. I can actually feel my own wounds being mended by the residual energy of his stride."
Within moments, the dark silhouette of the Capital's outskirts rose to meet them. Yorimitsu tore through the same district he had passed earlier, but the landscape had changed ever so slightly. The roof of the house that had been barely holding on had completely surrendered, caving into a pile of splinters and clay. Several structures ahead of him had suffered a similar fate.
"Ha... did a storm pass through here while I was gone?" Yorimitsu wondered, leaping off a collapsed timber and vaulting over a perimeter wall.
He reached the outer barriers of the Academy as the first hints of light touched the horizon. The black ink lines on his arm surged, pulsing blue as he bypassed the spiritual wards. He slipped through his room through the window and collapsed onto the floor, his lungs burning. He was so focused on the ticking clock and his senses had dulled because of his fight that he missed something.
High above, perched atop the curved tiles of the West Tower, a figure sat in the fading shadows. It was Yasumasa, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge, his giant, Toyohashi, balanced casually against his shoulder.
"I knew it," Yasumasa whispered into the wind, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "His level is way higher than a mere Second-Rank warrior. I thought it was just a flock when testing him before. Hehehe, my, my... this year is certainly going to be interesting."
He adjusted the brush, looking down toward Yorimitsu's darkened window. "Those people from the capital sure are getting way too arrogant to think they would send spies here"