Steel Trim
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Engineering, Magic, and Kitsune Ch. 6
🕑 Added 2024-12-09 22:38:52 +0000 UTC"Well, the rats have finally run out of breath. I'm sure that if you managed to keep running for a few more minutes, you definitely would have lost us," gloated the cruel man before bellowing with laughter, smacking an iron-armoured gauntlet against his leg like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life.
Aiki tore his eyes from the towering kitsune and mysterious figure silently staring down at them to face their pursuers. In the time they wasted, the half-dozen bandits that had the balls to call themselves "soldiers" had spread out around them, pinning him and his love against the gate.
"Just leave us alone, you bastards! What gives you the right?" shouted poor, sweet Haru.
His wife was always braver than he was. Aiki hugged her to his side as the group surrounding them laughed, weapons hanging relaxed in their hands.
Their leader huffed, shaking his head. "Should have just paid your dues rather than trying to screw the boss over. Protection doesn't come free," he flatly stated before shrugging his shoulders, "The rules were clearly laid out. Not our problem you didn't feel like following them."
Despite his cowardice, his blood boiled over, and Aiki could take no more, spitting out, "You're bleeding everyone dry! At this rate, we're not going to survive the winter!"
"Again, not my problem. Now, the boss just wants to talk with you and your lady friend," he laughed, "You probably have enough money between the two of you to pay for at least one of you, right? Sure, the other one might lose a few fingers or toes, but nothing that'll stop you from paying on time next time."
His heart sank, and he felt Haru tense at his side. "You don't have to do this. Please," he begged, taking another step back. Why weren’t the kitsune and the man on top of the gates doing anything? Surely they weren't in league with these… brutes? The mere thought of a kitsune's magic backing them was positively horrifying.
"Pssh," the man brushed off his pleas before laughing, "I mean, maybe, maybe if you didn't try and dodge the servants of the land's rightful ruler by dragging us to a 'haunted' ruin, but after we were having a nice, relaxing day before you lot decided to make a mess out of it." He leaned forward, his grin turning savage and his tone turning low and menacing, bereft of whatever false affability it previously held. "No, the boss wants to talk to you, and you best shut your traps and cut off whatever he says he wants you to cut off, or things might get a whole lot worse for you. Now, you're coming with us. Boss's orders."
"Did your boss give you the order to traipse on the lands of yokai, too?" a voice questioned from above. It was husky but unmistakably feminine and held an amused lilt.
The thugs jolted and looked up, shifting to stare at their observers above. Neither Aiki nor Haru could resist a glance back either, although they kept their attackers in their peripheral vision. Had they seriously not noticed the two of them?
A mischievous, fang-filled grin rested on the kitsune's face as she leaned on the top of the wall, elbows resting on the parapet as she cradled her chin in her palms. A graceful gold and black kimono adorned her form, and her golden eyes borderline glowed with mirth as she scanned the lot of them. "If he did, you might want to find a new boss, he's probably trying to get rid of you," she stage whispered, and sheer Presence poured off her like an invisible tide coming in.
It crashed over them like a wave, a contradictory maelstrom of thoughts and feelings blending into a mess of befuddlement. Aiki felt the comfort of a mother's warm hug and being pulled under to drown. The warmth of a summer day, sitting on a rock holding hands with his love, and being chained to the ground outside a rabid beast's den as a sacrifice. Aiki was not too proud to admit that he cried as he pulled Haru to his chest, her arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace. No words passed between them, but they both knew.
They were going to die here.
They should have just taken the deal; he could have lost a few toes, and life would have gone on until the following collection. The only comfort was that the half-dozen bandits were going to die with them.
The smile on their leader's face faltered, and the superior Condition of him and his men barely kept them from breaking down. They were locked between the urge to flee and freeze, like rats under a predator's gaze, terrified that breaking ranks first would mark them as the first target.
"M-mam," their leader stuttered, and the pressure redoubled, forcing him to stumble. One of his followers inadvertently dropped their axe, letting it drop to the ground as he fell to his knees and covered his head. "My apologies, oh great kitsune. We were unaware that you claimed this part of the forest," he whimpered, and the pressure receded.
She held her nose up high, mirth lighting in her eyes as she huffed. "I've been alive far before your grandparents' grandparents were born, young man," she stated, billowing her three voluminous tails out like a fan, "And I've held a parcel of land here quite some time, even if my duties to the High Plane have kept me away for a century. Your ignorance of history is not my problem, so why shouldn't I devour your hearts and send the rest back to your boss with a small bag of treasure as repayment for the meals?"
"There's no need for that," he began, only for her to narrow her eyes dangerously. "I beg your forgiveness, oh great kitsune! We were merely pursuing our duties. These two have been delinquent on their taxes to their rightful lord, and we are mere instruments of his will for collections."
"Is Tachibana not the lord of this land? I remember his agents were more…" She looked them up and down, a momentary snarl of disgust passing over her face, "Composed."
The leader winced. "I'm afraid not anymore, oh great kitsune. He rebelled and was driven from the province some years ago. Lord Matsumoto Hayata has been appointed by the Empress as his replacement."
Despite the situation, Aiki couldn't help but find his gaze drawn to the man at the towering kitsune's side. Sure, he didn't have the same terrifying Presence she did, but there was something strange about him. He was unusually pale, and his hair was a rarity, a deep blonde… but that wasn't what caught his attention. No, it was his eyes.
They had this haunted, almost hollow intensity as he stared down the party like he was staring past them into their souls. The heavy-looking wood and metal gauntlet was pointed at the soldiers like one might aim a bow, sending a shiver up Aiki's spine. Was he some sort of martial expert or mage bound as a servant to the kitsune? Every once in a while, the man glanced off to the side, his eyes scanning this way and that as if he were reading something. Sometimes, anger flashed through him; other times, he seemed almost sad.
His gray clothes were of an unfamiliar style. They were well-made but very simple, built more for practicality than show, and Aiki couldn't picture such a powerful kitsune having her retainer dress in such an understated way.
"A shame. I liked the Tachibanas," she hummed, sounding much like one who heard that a noodle stand down the street had closed down, and stood back to her full height. "So, you say these two evaded taxes, then?"
She glanced down at them, and he trembled, but Aiki couldn't find the will to speak. Haru did not share his weakness. "Don't believe them," she cried out, "They're a bunch of bandits bleeding us dry!"
Her gaze lingered on them briefly before snapping back up to the leader. "Interesting. What do you have to say about that?" she questioned, tilting her head.
The leader's smile was forced and awkward, sweat rolling down his neck as he replied, "The war in the south is a great drain on resources, oh great kitsune, and some just don't want to pay their dues and would spend what belongs to the Empress on vice. We'll just take them off your hands, and our boss will send you offerings as sincere apologies for disturbing you." He looked at one of his spearmen and nodded toward the couple, making Aiki's blood run cold.
The spearmen hesitated, but the leader's face took on a hard edge. He gestured toward them again more harshly, and hesitantly, his subordinate stepped forward.
The gaze of the man atop the wall snapped onto the spearman. He pointed a finger at the bandit, and Aiki tensed and prepared for Techniques to start flying, getting ready to run… but nothing happened.
At least, nothing obvious.
The spearman paused, confusion and pain flashing across his face as he broke out in a sweat and staggered back.
And then he screamed.
The man's spear clattered to the ground as he collapsed. "Help me! Heavens above, help me!" he screamed shrilly, writhing like a fish upon the shore and rolling in a mixture of pain and terror. He reached up to his chest plate, trying to get at the clasps, but his hand brushed against the metal next to the leather banding, and his palm sizzled like fresh meat upon a griddle. "Please," he wept, frantically clawing at the latches, but his hands shook too much, "Motohiko, Yoshio, please. What have I done to you?" He spun onto his belly and crawled over, wincing every time he moved, but their terrified eyes were on the kitsune, who observed the scene dispassionately.
The man was starting to smell of grilled pork, the sickly smell wafting off him in waves.
"You may help him," she dismissively waved them off, and the remainder sprung into action after some slight confusion about what to do, peeling the armour from the fallen soldier. The occasional muffled curse echoed out as they accidentally touched the metal, and the man cried out to whatever deity might listen to his prayers, begging for salvation from this torment.
They probably assumed the kitsune did it, but Aiki knew the truth. That man… whoever he was, whatever he was, he possessed a terrifying technique. There was no stream of flame. No warning. No sound. He pointed, and people burned.
Soon enough, they had managed to pry the man's armour off. Underneath the layers of armour was an angry red circle covering most of his torso, a massive burn dotted with the occasional white or even blackened spot where metal touched his flesh underneath. The cotton underlayer was discarded off to the side, and he was laid on the cool grass face up to the sky as he breathed deeply.
The most terrifying part was how casual it was. If the mysterious stranger wanted that man dead, he would be, and that was that, cooked in his shell like a crab.
"Enough," the kitsune commanded, sighing, "I will see to these two. Take your injured and do not return." Three of them, including their leader, broke and ran without stopping to help their fellow, fleeing terrified back the way they came. The last two still standing kept their terrified eyes locked on her as they stooped down and hoisted their groaning ally between them before quickly exiting the scene as well.
Hope and terror warred in Aiki's chest as their pursuers fled into the fading evening light, and soon, both he and Haru found themselves staring up at the towering kitsune as she looked down at them with a dispassionate gaze. Did she save them, or did she just save them for herself?
"What do you need from us…" Haru began before quickly adding, "Oh great kitsune," once she realized her error.
The two figures atop the gate turned to look at each other before pulling out a sheet of… paper each. They took silent turns writing and showing the sheets to one another, some type of quiet debate between the two.
"Hey, are you alright?" Haru asked, and Aiki looked down into her eyes, chuckling bitterly as he shook his head.
"That was probably the scariest experience of my life," he replied, "I want you to know that I love you, alright?"
"Don't say that," she said, lightly hitting him in the side, "You're talking like we're going to be killed."
Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the debate about their fate going on a few steps away. "I'm sure they'll be merciful; we didn't know they were here… But we can't return to the village for at least a few weeks. Perhaps we should go north? I hear that life isn't as rough the closer you get to the big cities. Thugs like them can't get away with things when someone might actually report them to their commanders."
"Ahem," The kitsune cleared her throat, and the pair jolted, turning back to their judge. Where there was once the careless smile of a predator playing with her prey was warmth, a surprising gentleness. "What are your names?"
"Aikawa Haru," his lovely wife supplied, bowing deeply.
"Aikawa Aiki," he followed, mirroring her.
The kitsune smiled, nodding. "It is a shame we meet in such dire circumstances. You may call me Yuki, and I am the yokai ruler of these woods." She gestured to the man at her side, who was now standing up straight. He was tall and almost lanky, but a more apt descriptor was lithe, as despite how lean he was, he didn't look weak. "And this is John, the rightful lord of this fortress."
The couple waited for the man to speak, but he just stared down at them, giving them a slight nod.
John. A foreign name… but entirely different from those that the invaders from the south bore, with uncommonly pale skin and hair just on the edge of blonde. Aiki's gaze flickered over to the mystery man, trying to feel his Presence beneath the overwhelming aura of the kitsune, but he was nowhere near skilled enough to pick it out, whatever it might be.
Still, the "rightful lord" of this fortress, in her woods? That meant that she had granted ownership to him, didn't it? It didn't take him long to think of why. The scent of that man burning in his armour… sent a shiver up his spine. Who knew what other terrifying techniques he possessed? Aiki'd also try to keep him close at hand, especially if he wasn't using this fortress himself. Perhaps they just happened to show up while Yuki was visiting to see how he was doing or to collect some rent.
"Don't worry about him," she reassured, "He's just not a big talker."
The mystery man gave them one last nod before retreating out of view and disappearing behind the wall, followed shortly after by the kitsune.
The gate swung open a minute later, and the kitsune hurried out on long strides. Aiki tensed, getting ready to grab his wife and bolt on reflex… But then he noticed the mugs in both her hands and a small pot under the other. The wordless "lord" stood nearby in the open entryway, keeping watch with his arms crossed. That was fine with Aiki as long as he wasn't getting pointed at.
"Here, drink up; you must be so parched," the kitsune ordered and handed the mugs to both Haru and him, and before they could process what was happening, they were sipping water. She was right. They were both thirsty.
"My thanks, oh great kitsune," Haru started, but the fox tutted and wagged her finger.
"Hush now, none of that; that was for intimidating those mean men," she explained, "You can call me Lady Yuki if you must stay formal. Now, did they hurt you?"
Hesitantly, Haru shook her head.
Lady Yuki's gaze snapped to him next, and he fought the urge to shrink back, "How about you, Aiki?"
"I'm fine, Lady Yuki," Aiki replied. The kitsune leaned in, sending his heartbeat spiking and raising the hair on his back, before sniffing the air and shaking her head.
"I can smell blood, Aiki. Where are you hurt?" she sighed, crouching to his level and unsealing the pot.
"It's nothing you have to concern yourself with, Lady Yuki," he assured her, "They're just a few scrapes from when I stumbled."
"Nonsense. We need to make sure sickness doesn't set in," Lady Yuki trailed off, sniffing a few more times before she reached over and hiked his sleeve to reveal his slightly bloody elbow before cleaning the area with a cloth.
Her fussing made him feel like a child, but the amount of concern was touching, even if he couldn't help but be terrified at how fast she changed from an intimidating avatar of the magical world's fury to… this.
Her Presence was not a lie. Aiki felt her warmth but also felt her fury, sadism, and hate wash over him like a tide and threaten to pull him under. It wasn't just an act. It couldn't be. He had no doubt that, had she fought, those thugs wouldn't have gotten off as lightly as they did.
"There! All finished," she chimed, and he glanced down to behold his elbow tightly wrapped in a bandage.
"I… My thanks, Lady Yuki," he said, bowing.
"It's of no concern. Now, are those men going to be waiting for you back at your village?" she asked, and a few moments later, he and Haru hesitantly nodded.
"They're part of the collection group assigned to this region. They'll be around," Aiki replied.
"Hmm. I talked with John earlier about this potential issue… Why don't you stay here for a time? You'll be asked to help with things like cleaning or fishing to make up for the extra food, but nothing too strenuous."
He almost reflexively turned down the offer, only to realize that the alternatives were to hop villages until they were out of the region, or try to survive the woods through myriad nights until they could manage the same. Given how many things lurked in their depths, drawn forth once the sun set, he didn't fancy their chances.
Maybe lying low here for a while wouldn't be the worst fate. Looking over to Haru, he saw she was deep in thought, likely going over many of the same points as he. "What do you think, love?" he asked.
She nodded and replied for them both, "We thank you both for your hospitality."
The kitsune's smile beamed bright. "Wonderful!" Lady Yuki exclaimed, leading them both by the hand inside as they passed through the gate, the mysterious "Lord John" nowhere to be seen. The oppressive, almost haunting atmosphere disappeared like a weight was lifted off their shoulders once they passed through, revealing a beautiful inner complex, well maintained despite the remote location.
He could only hope their time here was peaceful, however long it may be.
__________________________
John felt sick. What the fuck was wrong with him? He sat on the warehouse floor beside where Yuki had stayed and stared at his reflection in his mug, and a shiver swept through him as he stared at the dead eyes of the man who stared back.
It was probably for the best that he ran off once Yuki had finished caring for their wounds. His hands shook, banishing the image as he looked away. John knew the plan, anyway: They were to stay here for a few days until the heat died down. The supplies should hold, and he would have them help contribute and ensure it wasn't too much of a drain.
He didn't argue when Yuki suggested it, even if the idea of being referred to as some type of "Lord" still tasted bitter upon his tongue. Her trick was smart. Even if he nearly jumped out of his skin when shadowy text appeared next to him, a transcription of things was more than helpful.
But still, none of that answered what exactly his malfunction was. There were dozens of better ways to solve that situation than nearly cooking someone alive. He could have aimed in front of him and maintained the cone; the spearman probably would have jumped back when he felt the heat. He could have made his point clear by scorching some plants. Hell, he probably could have, with a bit of careful aim, heated his weapon until it was too hot to hold or burst into flames, whatever came first.
But John had to aim right at him. Even worse, he reacted rather than thinking. He should have double-checked the position of his fingers, and the only reason that man didn't die in agony was that one of his fingers didn't twitch an inch further. What was supposed to deter him damn near cooked him alive. The smell, the screams… John didn't recognize everything, but the words "help me" and "please" were clear as day, and the worst part was that he couldn't. Had he tried to cool him off with his cold focus, the thermal shock would have likely made things worse, so he just had to stare as the man boiled in his shell.
John was no stranger to what the focus could do; he had used it against monsters and beasts alike, but he always made it as quick and clean as possible. The metal made it so much worse.
He needed something more humane should he ever need non-lethal force again.
There was a knock upon the door's frame, and John tensed. He took a deep, shaky breath, which was smooth and level when he breathed back out. Getting back up, he grunted in acknowledgement, lest it be one of the couple and his pronunciation ruin the illusion of him being a man of few words rather than a clueless foreigner.
It was Yuki, the kitsune stooping to fit through the door. Her expression bore concern, a pre-written message already in her hands. "Are you sure you're okay with me moving into the main building?" it read.
He nodded, quickly jotting a few quick characters in turn. "Yes," he wrote, "They might think you're being untruthful should they find the 'owner' of these woods staying in a glorified shed." There was plenty of bedding anyhow, and he had already concluded that if she was going to do anything, she would have by now.
"And are you okay?" The reply stopped him dead, and he had to take a moment to process it. When was the last time anyone had asked that, even back when he was on Earth?
"Yes," he responded, "I just needed a second to myself and a drink."
Yuki frowned but didn't challenge him. "If you are sure." The kitsune looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the slight tremble in his hand before he stilled it.
"I am. Now, I’ll go prepare dinner for everyone. I'm sure they're hungry." And at that, he stepped around Yuki and out, back towards the main building.
