Chapter 8: Power

Takaharu snapped back to life with a massive gasp, his eyes flickered around wildly and blurry. Then, they landed back onto the crimson figure before him. Takaharu could feel that the Celebration dragonlord had loosen his grip around his neck, just enough so he could squeeze in air into his lungs. As his vision unblurred and corrected, he could see the fanged grin wide stretched across his handsome face.

Takaharu gritted his teeth.

He was still playing with him, like he was just some toy to dominate. At that moment, the thought of any and all consequences flew out his mind, nothing was greater then the humiliation he was facing. Rage boiled in him and the words spilled out of his mouth.

"I wish for power..! Not to be useless!"

Koiten's eyes laid curiously upon Takaharu, for the words that spilled out of his mouth seemed a bit too powerful. Usually he'd feel inclined to throw his head back, his beautiful locks flowing down his shoulders and tickling his back, laughing at such a pitiful, sad attempt at a call for strength. But this was different.

This was.. curious.

His patience, rewarded or perhaps, damned.

Darkness and the smell of burnt cinnamon converged over them. Encapsulating them. A wail moaned as the painted sky dripped with black, inky goop and the cinnamon scent transitioned to an iron smell.

Koiten dropped Takaharu without thinking. His eyes scanning the bubble as it grew more and more, until it consumed all that they could see.

'What the hell did this kid just do..?' For the first time in a long time, Koiten's hand trembled.

"Ugh.. Hck..!" Takaharu hacked and coughed, now on his hands and knees, gasping to take in the sudden influx of air. Then, chittering.

"Chk, chk, chk, chk, chk, chk.."

It echoed everywhere around them.

DOOONG

The sound of a loud gong bell being hit splintered the sound, and then it revealed itself.

Splintering itself out from the ground beneath, peeling it apart, and splitting it in two, emerged its long, dark, and crimson hair. Its head turned full around on its neck with a scraping and teeth-grinding noise, revealing its bloody red eyes wide and large. As if its own body were unknown to it, it forced its head to sit upright by jutting its shoulders and upper body upward, emitting another almost wood-cracking noise as it did. Its joints cracked and contorted, finding its proper alignment amongst its petite frame.

Takaharu once again lost his breath. He couldn't believe it.

"K-Kikuyo..?"

Hearing its name, the doll contorted most uncomfortably, turning to acknowledge its owner. "Young Master?"

"Hahahaha. A hinnagami." Koiten facepalmed as he laughed. "He gave you guys a fucking hinnagami!"

Takaharu's eyes looked up at Koiten, fear and sweat damp upon his face. "W-what--"

"That fucking, Beni!" The Celebration Dragon slowly stepped backwards with his usual confident smirk, but Takaharu could easily tell it was forced.

"Beni?! Hinna--Wait!"

Gone.

Takaharu scrambled to his feets, gazing upon a figure once familiar to him but now.. changed. Transformed. He held his ribs, the pain was starting to kick in but he began to slowly stumble towards her. "Kikuyo, what are y--what happened to you?"

Kikuyo dropped to her knees, head lolling backwards as she once again struggled to hold it upright. Her body like a doll... no longer being played with. As her head rolled back, so too did her eyes as a pool of red emitted from them and a glow radiated out, her mouth unhinged itself in a disgusting cracking noise. Her joints contorting and twitching and seizing, but despite her mangled form, the voice that came from her still, open mouth was monotone, calm, robotic.

"You have made a wish, Young Master. I am to grant it. More.." Her head cracked as it snapped to the left.

"And more.."

A long wail screeched once more, like nails scratching across a board. Takaharu covered his ears from the painful sound, praying for it to past and it did, as quick as it came.

"Till your soul is satisfied."

Takaharu swallowed hard. She was to grant him his wish? He hesitated, unsure and in pain. What exactly would come from it? And what Koiten said -- Hinnagami -- Is that why she was behaving this way? Because of what she is? Or perhaps, did she become like this.. Because of him.

"Wish."

Takaharu jumped from her sudden voice.

"Wish.Wish.WIsh.WISh.WISH.WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH.-"

She was murmuring "wish" repeatedly, over and over.

Takaharu's heart pounded in his chest, "W-Would me... Wishing turn you back to normal?!"

"WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH WISH--"

"Kikuyo! I-I don't understand! I don't want you like this!"

On and on, she continued droning "wish".

Panic rose more and more in Takaharu, he just wanted his Kikuyo back! If he wasn't useless like before she wouldn't have become like this! If he was like his older brother, like Keiten, like everyone else on this mountain..!

"I wish..! I wish to be powerful like everyone else on this fucked up mountain!"

"WISH WISH WISH WI--"

Her voice stopped with a loud crack once more, her neck and head contorted and her body becoming disjointed as it rose from the ground and ascended into the sky. Her chest poked out as she levitated high above, her body convulsed as her chest ripped itself apart - a beautiful red jewel breaking its way out and hovering just a bit above her. Then as if like a massive vacuum, it began absorbing all of the darkness around them. The smell of burnt cinnamon growing stronger and stronger, till it became pungent. Takaharu coughed and gagged, covering his mouth and nose.

"Takaharu Yokoyama, son of Fuuga and Mishiyo no Yamahime, brother of Mitsuaki, I, as named by my original master Fuuga and creator Seishinbeni, Kikuyo, grant you your wish.

..Indulge." 

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Mitsuaki looked at the warm cup of tea placed before him on the wooden table. Set to the side of it was the trinket given to him by Shion,

A dagger.

It was beautiful and decorative, a bit too posh for Mitsuaki's care. It reminded him of the douche stain that attacked him earlier, "What was his name? Toeha? Toegah? Something like that. Regardless, could something this pretty be deadly?" He picked it up by its handle. It was cool to the touch. Turning it over, left and right in his hand, he examined it critically.

"I got some manju. Hopefully you're a fan of kann'a fruit." Ginjiro said, placing a plate down with a dozen of the sweet bread. He could smell the sweet and citrus fruit emanating strongly from the soft bread, steam was coming off of it.

"I'm going to have to refuse, I'm not a fan of sweets."

gURRGGLe

Mitsuaki's face flushed and Ginjiro raised an eyebrow, a smug look upon his face.

"Doesn't sound like your stomach agrees." Ginjiro swallowed one of the buns, chuckling slightly. "Snack on those. Shion! Make something else that isn't a sweet!"

"Fine!!" Shion yelled back from a distance, Mitsuaki assumed from the kitchen.

Slightly embarrassed from being exposed by his own stomach, he didn't resist this time and took the offer. Biting into it slowly, it was very soft and surprisingly - the kann'a fruit wasn't overwhelmingly sweet. It had a perfect balance in it, perhaps it was the citrus.

"I hadn't eaten since this morning. I've been searching for leads on what's causing a new spreading sickness on Akiyama."

Ginjiro leaned back on his elbow, shifting on his zabuton cushion and popped another bun into his mouth. "You doing investigative work? Guess that explains why you were all up in the village. A sickness, huh. What exactly is it doing? Cold? Flu?"

Mitsuaki set down his half finished bun, that was enough sweet for now, he washed the remainer down with the warm green tea.

"If it was any of that it would have been much simpler to fix. But this thing is weird, I'm only describing it as a sickness because thats what the Old Man referenced it as. Told me I'd get answers if I visit an old shrine he saw long ago in this direction. It made my younger brother... Change." Mitsuaki felt a bit unsure on sharing so much information. He averted his eyes, looking outside the wide open sliding tatami doors to the zen garden as a distraction.

"Changed him?" Ginjiro wiped his mouth on his sleeve, crusts of the bread and jam from the bun decorating it. "Like, his appearance or something?"

"In a way, I guess." Mitsuaki sighed. "I appreciate you giving me a place to recover, but I really should keep searching for answers." They had bandaged him up, and yet he was still incredibly sore, but he didn't have time to sit around and recover. Every second Mitsuaki spent idling around with these guys, the closer his brother was getting to death.

Ginjiro quickly held up his hand at Mitsuaki. "Hold on for a second. Maybe I can help, tell me more. I've been around, I've seen things."

"He's saying that he's old," Shion abruptly added. He winked playfully at Mitsuaki as he sets a bowl of ramen in front of the both of them. He then took his own seat in the middle of them and pulled the plate of sweets to him.

"You're very aggravating, you know that?"

"I know," Shion grinned, mouth full. "That's why I'm your favorite."

Ginjiro playfully socked his brother on his arm, rolling his eyes jokingly. "Anyways. Your name..? Maybe if we introduce ourselves, you'll be more willing to open up. I genuinely want to help, I feel slightly responsible."

Mitsuaki began eating. "Mitsuaki. Yokoyama Mitsuaki. Inheritor of the Moving Mountain, son of blah blah blah. You get it."

"Ohh! So you're the infamous, Mitsuaki! Not a lot of kin likes you, you know?" Shion admitted.

"Shion!" The younger triplet simply shrugged at his name called.

"I mean, he isn't wrong. Not a lot like me, but I've gotten used to it. I guess it comes with the title." Mitsuaki casually stated.

"See?" Shion said. Ginjiro facepalmed.

"Alright, well. From my time of knowing you, I don't see anything that justifies the infamy, so I'm cool with you. I'm Ginjiro, the one who doesn't understand social interactions is Shion, and the pain in my side from earlier was Toiya. We make up the Cauldron, do you.. Know anything about it?"

"I've.. Never heard of it. Father never told me of it and the Old Man? I doubt he'd even remember it. But I read an article that seemed to survive from that time while scoping out the village, the majority of it was in a language I couldn't understand though." Mitsuaki went ahead and pulled it out of his satchel, laying it straight onto the table for all to see.

Ginjiro took the old article and unrolled it, his face lighting up. "Its in Lishian. Old language of the Dragons, think of it as the older form of what we're talking in now."

Mitsuaki nodded his head. "Lishian.. Fascinating. Does that paper have anything important on it?"

"Nope. Its an old advertisement regarding jewelry goods." The elder triplet casually said, rolling it back up.

The inheritor sucked his teeth. "Damn it, so I wasted my time on nothing."

"Not really. But, I think we can help each other. Tell me more about this 'illness' and I can share what I know about for any questions you have."

Mitsuaki raised his eyebrow at the offer. "Information in exchange for information?"

"No," He shook his head. "Help for help."

The inheritor really didn't have the luxury to say no or question any further.

"Alright. So, this illness changed my brother's composition in a bizarre way. It's something I or anyone else would fathom impossible."

"You live in Rukaba with ancient dragon beings and you think things are still impossible?" Shion quipped.

"Have to draw a line somewhere, eh." Ginjiro added.

"Mmmm.. Anyways. It drained him. He was completely pale, abnormally pale, no color on him - anywhere. It's like he became a ghost."

Ginjiro eyes widened and he jolted upright.

Shion stopped eating, eyes wide with shock as his bun crumbs fell from his wide open mouth.

"Ohh shit.." The younger triplet looked at Ginjiro and the elder looked at Shion.

An exchanging of 'oh shit' looks.