17 Isolation

"So Shinto Magic is the invocation of 'Kami', through which we make an offering in return for their 'Blessing'." I summarize, staring at the notes I'm holding in my hands. "A price that can be paid through either 'Mana' or 'Faith'."

Akeno nods. "That's right." She smiles. "Odd cases could happen, but that is the most common form of Shinto Magic."

"And if that Kami refuses to answer that call-"

Her smile falls. "-then Shinto Magic fails."

I hum. "Interesting."

It's been a week since I entered sixth grade. It's late into the afternoon now, with the skies slowly turning orange as the sun sets into the horizon. It's been a slow day today. School's as boring as always, and I still don't really know what to do with my afternoons now that Akeno's in school as well.

Maybe I should join a club or something? None of them sound all that interesting, but I can give one of them a try, I guess.

Right now, Akeno's lounging on our bed, and I'm sitting just behind my desk. We've been talking about Shinto Magic for the past hour, mostly going over everything I've learnt about it through the histories I poured over.

Himejima Suou is blessed by Kagutsuchi, and the blood in his veins are the catalyst through which divine flames could be wrought into reality. In that sense, a god had blessed Suou from birth, no matter how minor that blessing is compared to the one of the clan head's.

He's strong, but I've been diligent. My eyes have shown me what he's capable of, and I've prepared as many countermeasures as I can. But, there is one thing that's worried me from the very beginning.

That blessing; it's the most dangerous part about him. As long as he stands in Kagutsuchi's presence—in Japan—he'll continue to grow stronger. The longer we fight, the stronger his connection with Kagutsuchi will become, and the more danger he'll present.

I need some way to isolate Suou from Japan. A ridiculous task at first thought, and it still is. I mean, it's not like I can bring him out to sea or something.

But then I got an idea.

That 'isolation' doesn't have to be literal. If I can sever Suou's ties to Kagutsuchi for even a moment, that'll weaken the man considerably.

And once that idea took root in my mind, my eyes were more than happy to provide.

Kanada. The wooden hammer that eventually became a Tsukumogami through the congregation of curses, their consciousness forged in the crippling loneliness of the tomb they'd been buried in. Now, they're free, and will continue to be as long as I still live.

The thing is, I'd completely forgotten what being a Tsukumogami is.

Kanada is a Tsukumogami. A Youkai. A Kami.

"I really don't think this is going to work." Akeno says, doubt clear on her face. "I mean, I know Shinto Magic uses a Kami, and that Youkai can be considered Kami, but…"

I shrug. "I'm sure it'll work." Actually, I know it'll work. My eyes have shown me. And besides, if the word 'Kami' is restricted to gods, then my Primal Energy would've never worked.

The desk trembles slightly as Kanada shakes in agreement. "See? Even Kanada agrees." I say, twirling a pen around my fingers. "And, I mean, might as well try, right? It's not like we're losing anything if we do this. If it works, it works."

So, without further ado, I begin my work, my hand steady as I draw the characters upon the small slip of paper before me. Making Ofudas used to be somewhat of a chore, but after a year of constant work, I can easily draw an Ofuda in mere minutes.

Before long, the Ofuda is done. Or at least drawn. It's nothing more than a slip of paper at the moment.

"It's your turn." I say, and I gently move Kanada and place them atop the Ofuda. I pull back from the desk, and Kanada shakes in anticipation. They're just as excited as he is, it seems, and they really want this to work.

Then, I feel an invisible weight enter the room, and my eyes flash gold.

Slowly, unseen by all but me, a dark mass begins rising from Kanada. It looks almost liquid in its consistency, yet as light as air. It's foreboding, and I can almost hear what sounds like the screams of a thousand men.

The dark mass rises and rises and rises, and before long it's reached the ceiling. Then it begins to spread outwards, covering the ceiling in a tangly, dark mass. It's hauntingly beautiful, like watching some sort of tree grow and spread across the room.

This is the physical manifestation of Kanada's curses. The horror and terror collected from the world wars. The years when the only constant in the world is death.

Then, all those curses harshly fall onto that single slip of paper, dowsing it under thousands of curses. A vortex of black forms as all that energy is submused, and the characters I wrote begin to glow with an ominous purple glow.

And as quickly as it begins, it ends. I push myself back towards the desk, and Kanada gives an excited shake. I glance down at the Ofuda, and a wide grin comes onto my face.

"It worked."

It worked wonderfully. An 'Isolation' Ofuda, made through Kanada's curses. It's definitely the strongest Ofuda I've ever held, and even just holding it gives me a discomforting feeling.

I could've made one myself, of course. But it wouldn't have been as strong as this one. I mean, an Ofuda of my own making can probably only last for an hour. My eyes tell me this Ofuda can, instead, last entire days.

Overkill? Maybe, but I'll take any advantage.

"I…" I turn to see Akeno staring at the Ofuda I just made, eyes wide and jaw slightly agape. "You can…Shinto Magic works with…" She looks down in thought. Her eyes look completely lost, as if some cardinal truth she's known all her life was just broken. Which, considering her origins, isn't that far from the truth.

It's pretty funny actually. She looks fairly graceful most of the time, so seeing her so gobsmacked is a breath of fresh air.

(Silently, I lament how smartphones aren't a common thing just yet. I could've gotten some nice blackmail if I had one right now.)

She does eventually snap out of it though. But suddenly she looks down, the bangs of her hair covering her eyes. Even so, I can see the way her fists are clenched, the way her shoulders are trembling. She is angry-, no, furious.

"My teachers told me Shinto Magic is pure." She begins, voice tight. "That it is the gods' purity that gives birth to this magic we can use." She laughs then; a short, manic laugh. "They're wrong. Purity has nothing to do with it, does it? They're not killing people and Youkai because the gods demand them to, are they?"

I say nothing. Akeno continues to laugh.

"The Youkai are stains against the Gods' salubrity," She recites. She looks up, and her violet eyes shine with morbid amusement. "That's all bullshit, isn't it? My family-, the clans-, they're all just human supremacist assholes!"

She continues to laugh. "I already knew-, I mean, they killed mom because she married a guy with wings! I'm being-, they're after me too! And-, and-"

She clutches her head, and a bitter smile lifts her lips as she curls in on herself.

"I just wanted a better reason." She whispers.

I close my eyes. It's so much more than human supremacy, my eyes supply. It's hatred cultivated over centuries, bred from the perceived inferiority in humankind. A hatred against all things that doesn't fit into their rigid explanation of who and what 'Humans' are, and the brutality they inflict as a result.

There's not much I can do about her feelings. Not yet. It's still too raw, too new.

I sit next to her, gently running my hand across her back. It's something my mother did to me once, and I've never forgotten the warmth I felt.

She seems surprised at my actions, but soon leans onto my shoulder. It feels lethargic, and none of the peppy clinginess she has is present. She's drained, in more ways than one. It's a painful sight.

So I keep comforting her as best I can. Dinner comes and goes, and soon she falls asleep.

That night is especially cold.