Ushio & Tora Fan Fiction ❯ The I Of the Beholder ❯ Abracadabra ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Hi y'all. So... here's the next chapter. I had intended to finish this tale with this piece, but the bugger just won't lie down and die, you know? So next chapter will be the clincher, plus a short epilogue. Things are getting grim... Hope everybody enjoys this; it got delayed a bit by the sudden emergence of a Detective Conan story and a really, really strange Yami No Matsuei tale, but here it is! Please review, please please please--- reviews are almost better than chocolate....... Ysabet

P.S.: A humongous THANK YOU!!! to Becky Tailweaver, the InuYasha Goddess, for her kind lessons in the arcane magic known as HTML COMMANDS! My fics look all cool, nifty and professional now.... =^_^=

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Chapter 7: Abracadabra
By Ysabet

First there was the rain.

It pattered gently down as it had been doing for hours, little cold spatters hurrying to join their kin on the sodden earth below with no fuss, no hurry, only the certainty of gravity. Rivulets trickled and splashed from tile and treebranch, and all the dark landscape was awash with water.

A soft mutter of muted thunder called out to the storm; it grumbled to itself like an irritated old man growling and waking from sleep, stomping its cold feet in the clouds. As if in answer, a louder rumble shook itself in a sudden black fit of irritation from the opposite side of the storm; lightning flashed, a sharp exclamation in the argument.

It was raining harder now in fits and bursts----- the heavens cried out and beat at the earth with brutal, liquid fists----- the earth boomed back with an echo from the hills for every savage growl of thunder-----

A scream then; a crackling shout!!! from the sky as the clouds were surely split apart by FIRE, fire that lanced jagged and perfect from earth to heaven and heaven to earth in delicate blue-white lines. With nothing to hold it back, the rain completed its conquest of the earth as the sky opened up and released every heavy drop; it assaulted the sodden soil like hammers. The sheer noise blocked out all the world.

Men hunted monsters, monsters hunted men; but that was *nothing* to the weather and never had been.

The storm ruled over all.

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The Spearbearer ran like a hare through the rain, his feet splashing and sliding in mud and pebbles. Above him and around him the thunder and lightning raged in all their fury, matching the desperation in his heart.

Crash-splash-splat-slip-STUMBLE-thud-thud-th ud-splash.....

Tora and his father had come up with something that amounted to a plan; he wasn't *happy* with it, not at all---- but nothing else really seemed feasible, so..... The first part required that someone find the Donshoku. That was simple enough; according to everything the bakemono and the priest knew (and it was rather alarming how well they were working together, wasn't it?), the creature was somewhat simpleminded in its hunting patterns. It would most likely work outwards in a spiral from the last point of contact, endlessly moving until it reached a barrier it could not pass, then reversing the patter to spiral back in. This would continue until it found its prey--- the monster was simple, but hideously thorough.

So Ushio had volunteered.

After all, he was fast, he was relatively uninjured, and he was armed. He was also frightened half out of his wits..... But at the same time, he was angry. Angry that this bastard of a murdering thing had actually invaded his property, his territory..... How DARE it come to his home?!? Somehow without even realizing it (though he knew better), Ushio had gotten it into his thick head that the Aotsuki compound was inviolate, untouchable..... safe. The last time anything had come after him there had been the *first* time, those nasty little fish and insect monsters. Since then, nothing had broken through to his home.

So, splashing through the mud and water of the yard (*slower now; no use in suddenly running into the monster, huh?*), Ushio found himself burning with a growing rage, a red heat that made a faint, rumbling snarl rise in his throat, made his chest tighten with the longing to *destroy* the intruder.

It frightened him, that rage--- but not as much as it might have under other circumstances. Somehow it seemed..... appropriate. This was his HOME.

And then there was Asako....

He skidded to a halt behind his house, gripping the Spear tightly and peering around the corner; nothing yet. The Seki Donshoku Mono had to be oozing around here somewhere....... It had had enough time to spiral out and in at least once or twice. Somewhere it was drifting across his property, his territory, that goddamned son-of-a-bitch of a disgusting soul-eating THING-----

----- that had almost gotten himself and Asako. That was what shook him the most; it had almost gotten them. Ushio wiped the sodden mass of black hair from his eyes and eased himself along the cold, wet building. That had been so close, too close.....

*****Asako had just been standing there rather impatiently in the bright sunlight, hands on her hips; she had been wearing that red sundress that he liked so much, and she had spun about at the sound of his footsteps. Her face had lit up in that gorgeous way it had (but it had never lit up like THAT for *him* before.....), and she had held both her hands out to him impulsively, silently-----

Silently. That was the thing. Asako was *never* silent. Never. But there she stood, smiling at him, ready to take his hands..... silent...... There was something different in her eyes; a certain flatness, a lack of depth...... Asako?

No; not Asako. Not his Asako..... And he had found himself roaring and striking out with the Spear, striking----- *****

'His' Asako. Now where, Ushio asked himself in some bemusement, had *that* thought come from? His hormones, maybe? His heart?

*Goddammit..... this stuff is too complicated.* The Spearbearer shook rainwater from his eyes and shrugged a completely male shrug regarding the whole matter.

Hmmmmm.... movement out there, along the wall; difficult to see through the driving curtain of rain, but there was *something* out there. The Spearbearer splashed as quietly as possible forward. *SHIT* he muttered to himself mentally; it was nearly impossible to move with any stealth through this morass of mud and broken twigs. As if taking umbrage at Ushio's disgust, the storm crashed down even harder; rain fell like cold whips against his shoulders and back, and he pushed his wet hair futilely from his face again.

Huh; what was that, out by the stone wall? It was so faint..... Something was there, something dim,although his nightsight could make out the distant white flutter of the ofuda attached to the stones without any difficulties. He was going to have to move closer. The Spear was steady in his grip, reassuring and solid; Ushio could feel his sharp nails trying to bite into the wooden haft, scraping a little. The tattered silk of the weapon's streamers fluttered a little in the driving rain, soaked and limp.

*'His' Asako.* He wondered what she'd think of his thinking of her that way-----

Well...... things were changing between them. Maybe it was just that they were growing older; maybe it was just circumstances. Who knew? Who the hell *cared,* for that matter? He didn't..... All Ushio knew was that suddenly Asako wasn't just a friend, somebody he had known since babyhood. That was still there too, that friendship, but..... you didn't notice friends the way he found himself suddenly noticing Asako.

No, not like that.

She was still the Asako that he had always known, had fought and argued and played and shouted with since he could remember. But--- it was as if certain aspects of her personality (and--- let's face it--- her body) had become sort of written in heavy print. The way she turned her head to look at him was suddenly wonderful; the shape of her jawline, the graceful curve of her neck, those extraordinary eyes----- they were eloquent in ways that had never occurred to him before. And speaking of curves.....

Even in the coldness of the rain, Ushio could feel himself blushing. And grinning. He crept a little closer to the wall.

Curves; well, hell yeah. She had a few more of those now than he could *ever* recall noticing before; how come he had been so blind? And those eyes, and that smile of hers..... And, he had to admit, the way she wouldn't take shit from *anybody,* not even *him*----- For some reason, that made him grin appreciatively even more.

(and she had *kissed* him..... and HE had.....)

Uhhhmmmm..... he had better keep his mind on the business of hunting or he was going to get his ass kicked. Now WHERE had that movement been-----? Let's see, he had been over there, and he had noticed it right about there----- He moved forward again, crouching a little, weapon ready, eyes focused on the wall.....

So focused, in fact, that he didn't notice the broken branch in front of him on the ground. The one that tripped him and splatted him butt-first into a cold, oozing puddle. SPLASH!! The noise was audible even above the pounding of the rain.

The Spearbearer lay on his back, feeling panicky and foolish, hair streaming in his eyes and water thudding down on his face. Slowly he sat up; well, he consoled himself, at least he couldn't get any wetter---------

--------- and then the Spear sang in his grasp and a sweep of *something* sheeted across his vision, and he found himself looking straight up into a swirling, acrid cloud of RED and eyes and RED and mouths and RED........

***Oh, SHIT!!!***

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In the light of a single candle, Shigure sneezed.

He was seated on the cold, damp stone floor of the ancient shrine; around him were heaps of old texts, boxes of miscellaneous temple fittings, scraps of lumber, containers of festival garlands and flags, musty unknown containers of musty unknown things----- In short, junk. Mostly.

It was the 'mostly' part that concerned him just now. He hefted another disintegrating cardboard box onto his lap and opened it, wrinkling his nose at the dank smell that drifted up. Ah--- old textbooks, by the look of them. The old building had long been used as a storage house for the locals..... It was quite the common thing for someone whose relative had died to bring by a load of odds and ends for 'donation' to the shrine; regrettably, most of the 'donations' were unusable, unwanted and unwieldy. Hence the storage. And then there were the items that were honestly brought here for 'purification'..... Sometimes one might inherit something that gave odd apprehensions and feelings, something that possibly should be taken down to the local priest for a quick blessing. Sometimes it was better if said item never came back home, too; so it became a 'donation.'

There was an upside to all of this, however; the shrine-building contained an unparalleled assortment of junk; and in that dungheap, diamonds occasionally made their appearance.

The plan that had been worked out between himself, Tora, Ushio and Asako was in its essence very simple: Ushio would track and find the Seki Donshoku Mono; Shigure would find objects among the 'donations' which might repel the monster (apparently it didn't like 'charged' things, such as juzu and dorje); Asako and Tora would then lay out a narrow corridor of said charged objects, along which the Donshoku would be herded by the bakemono, the priest and the Spearbearer; Asako would act as bait, luring the monster along into the underground room below the shrine where it would receive a *very* nasty surprise.....

Shigure sighed and shifted a little; the damp coldness had settled in his injured leg, making it ache. Acid-burns and jagged bites were decidely NOT his favorite things in life. He slid the box of textbooks off to one side, wincing as the ancient cardboard crumbled a little more. Turning, he ran one dust-smeared hand along a second box; ahhhh, he could feel *something* in here......

The 'something' proved to be a small string of Tibetan prayer flags. Faded and tattered with the years, still they whispered their power forth in a tiny plea to the powers above for peace, for prosperity, for mercy. Shigure breathed in their spiritual perfume for a moment before placing the small bundle beside a few more such items: a small porcelain statue of Kuan Yin, a crudely-cast bronze Ganesh from India, a sadly-scratched (but obviously revered) Catholic rosary, a small stack of miscellaneous religious works in stained bindings, and (oddly enough) a hubcap from an American 1967 Mustang. He eyed the last item dubiously, then shook his head; there was no denying what lay within the rusting, dented scrap of metal.

Holiness was where you found it. He reached behind another box and brought out one more item, one with *just* enough 'charge' to make it useful: a cracked bowl, somewhat stained, containing a single sharp shard of glass. The ceramic rang with a dull 'clink' as he placed it beside the Ganesh.

"Oji-san? Do you have some more things for us? I don't think we have much time left----"

He stretched for a moment, one hand at the small of his aching back. "A few more, child. How is the trap coming?" With Asako's help he climbed carefully to his feet, favoring his injured leg.

The girl looked like a drowned rat; she could not have become wetter if she had lept into a river. Tendrils of dark, fine hair clung to the chilly skin of Asako's face; drops hung thickly on her eyelashes, scattering like diamonds in the candlelight as she blinked. "Well..... It looks pretty odd, but I guess it'll work. Tora says it makes him itch." She brushed a sodden strand from where it lay across her nose. "The holy things don't exactly hurt him--- when I asked him why, he just snorted and told me not to mistake *him* for a demon--- but he thinks the Donshoku won't like them at all."

She bent down and began gathering the oddly-assorted group of objects up; the girl examined the hubcap doubtfully, but added it after Shigure nodded. Trudging out into the rain, she turned back for a moment. "Is--- is the downstairs room ready yet?" she asked; the priest could hear the suppressed fear in her voice, but chose to ignore it for her sake.

*Let her be as brave as she can, poor child.....*

"It's ready; you and Tora can go down and take a look whenever you wish." He smiled at her through the curtain of rain that began just past the roof's edge.

Asako shrugged, shifting her grip on the items as the Kuan Yin statue tried to slip free. For a moment she juggled the various objects, and he saw her focus on the small bowl; her eyes widened, and he thought she might say something. But after a moment she bit her lip and continued: "Tora.... he says he won't go in there again. He calls it 'Down There'----- I don't think *anything* will get him to go back----- and I guess you can't really blame him, can you?" She smiled tiredly at the priest, then turned to splash back off across the yard towards the waiting dark bulk whose silver eyes glimmered faintly, watching them through the rain.

Shigure watched her go, his heart aching. *Poor child.....*

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"Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhrrrrrrrrr........."

The bakemono hunkered down, drawing his mane around him like a cloak against the driving rain. Tora's glowing eyes peered out of the shrouding hair; he spat out a curse in general against all dampness and mud, drawing his lips back against his sharp teeth in distaste.

The Girl was coming back from the old shrine now, loaded down with another armful of annoying relics. They couldn't harm him as such, not at all, but they made his fur stiffen and his skin twitch with the presence of power, no matter how infinitesimal. Irritating.

The great, striped face wrinkled as the monster yawned; it had been a long night. He wondered when the noisy human approaching him with such clumsy splashing had become 'the Girl' in his mind; perhaps when she had made that little sacrifice for him? He smiled in the shadows and rain at the memory; her warmth still moved through his body, soothing the pain in his side and suffusing his muscles with borrowed power. So much power, and from so small a gift. What peculiar creatures humans were.

So. For a little while at least, this one would be part of his territory. His human 'pet', perhaps, not a prospective meal. That should please the Brat no end-----

*Hhhrrrrrrrmmmmmm. Speaking of which.....* Tora peered out into the blanketing rain; surely Ushio-Brat had found the Donshoku by NOW, hadn't he? He had been eager enough, though his fear-sweat had been noticable even through the downpour. The Spearbearer was *finally* beginning to act as he should, finally starting to pay attention to the all-important goal of protecting the territory. The bakemono wiped his eyes with the back of one sodden hand and laughed softly to himself.

It was amazing what the presence of a potential mate could do. *Young things in season, indeed.....* Tora chuckled again and turned to meet the Girl who was splashing her noisy way towards him.

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Head down, Asako concentrated on all sorts of things as she stomped away across the yard; her footing, the way her eyes had adapted to the dark, the peculiar assortment of items she was carrying so carefully, the torrential downpour..... anything.

Anything but her particular role in the plan to trap the Donshoku, that is.

Shigure and Tora hadn't quite enlightened Ushio about all the details, she was sure. Otherwise he would've gone absolutely ballistic--- she knew him well enough to guarantee that; he'd have had his father's head on a plate and Tora's hide for a rug for even *thinking* of such a dangerous, idiotic, utterly insane plan-----

The problem was, she thought to herself as she splashed through a particularly deep puddle, she actually agreed with the bakemono and the priest: It WAS a good plan. It might even work, if everything went right.

The other little problem was this: she also thought it was a dangerous, idiotic, and utterly insane plan.....

Asako shrugged. She felt absurdly calm about the whole thing--- scared, yes, but..... maybe she was just too exhausted and cold and wet to be *really* afraid anymore. The best she could summon was a sort of inner nervous twitch...... that is, until she started thinking about the whole 'downstairs room' thing.

*That* was different. Oh, she could manage to be ALL kinds of afraid when she thought about *that.*

*Better think about something else, then, stupid.* Asako wiped her hair from her eyes and shivered at a roll of thunder.

As she shifted her burdens in an effort to keep from dropping them, her eyes slid down to touch on the bowl, the one that (she knew) was stained with blood. WHY had Oji-san picked that* as a 'holy thing?' It made no sense.....

Never mind. Without a word she trudged through the mud past Tora and began using the items to fill in the gaps in a trap that looked for all the world as if someone had decided to hold a yard sale in a driving rainstorm. A truly bizzare, motley assortment of peculiar junk was laid out in a narrowing corridor across the muddy ground; carved stone artifacts lay beside stacks of religious pamphlets, and one particularly ugly (but apparently powerful) porcelain fu-dog rubbed shoulders with a broken wooden screen that had last seen service in a Greek Orthodox church.

She hesitated, looking for a weak spot; it was hard to see clearly by the intermittent lightning, but that was all the illumination she had. Silently the bakemono pointed a dripping claw at the narrow space between a handsome-if-chipped terracotta teapot and an old twig broom; Asako gingerly placed her final item (some sort of metal statuette with an elephant's head) between the two, stepping back to survey her work. Beside her Tora gave an approving grunt. She glanced at him for a moment before starting to head back to the shrine--- and found herself being studied intently by his silver eyes.

"Girl...." said the bakemono softly; ".....You know that you may well die in this, hrrrrrr?"

Trust the monster not to let the subject lie. Asako closed her eyes for a long moment and felt her heart constrict as the numbing, comforting tiredness seemed to part like a curtain to let the fear back in. "----- Yes. I know." She stared the arrangement on the ground before her with unseeing eyes. "That thing's going to find us soon, and we can't drive it back with fire again--- not in this weather. We have to finish it off somehow." She laughed shortly. "This is my part of the job. It's not like I have a choice, really....."

"Ahhhhhhhhhrrrr. But you *do* have a choice, Girl..... in one thing, at least." She looked up, wiping the rain from her eyes. The bakemono sat there, bulking huge and indistinct in the darkness. Tora looked away from her out towards the trees between the shrine and the rest of the Aotsuki compound. "If you wish--- if you choose--- I will make *certain* that the Red Devourer does not have the chance to eat your soul, as I promised."

*Oh-----* Frozen in place, Asako could only wait for him to finish what he was saying.

Casually the monster glanced back at her, a flash of slanted silver. "The Donshoku would chase after the broken-necked body of its prey as readily as it would that same prey still alive--- for a few moments, at least." The calm statement hung in the sodden air, punctuated by cold raindrops. "I would do that for you--- end your difficulties *now* and throw your body Down There for it to chase, if you chose....."

The girl shuddered, closing her eyes again. *'Difficulties.'* She swayed on her feet, feeling such a rush of terror and weariness that she could scarcely continue standing. Asako faltered a step or two sideways, and then she was leaning against something wet and huge, something that shifted impatiently as it said "Well, Girl?" right beside her ear.

The sound of the rain striking the earth seemed to fill the entire world for a moment; it made a continuous sound, a drumming shush that pounded in time with her heart. For a single long, black moment, Asako allowed herself to contemplate what the bakemono was offering--- it would be an easier death than--- and her soul wouldn't-----

But no. No. If she did that, she'd be abandoning..... them. Him. Ushio. No; she wouldn't do that. Couldn't do that.

Funny----- it had very little to do with, say, the fear of killing claws or bone-cracking strength; it didn't even have much to do with the fear of death. She just..... couldn't do it. Couldn't. Allowing the bakemono to take her life would, in a way, be participating in her *own murder.* No. She couldn't do that and remain herself, Nakamura Asako.

All the tension seemed to seep out of the girl's muscles in one huge rush, and she slumped against the monster that had moments before offered her an easy death. Did he understand what he was saying? Probably; she had the feeling that Tora understood killing very well indeed. In his own strange way, he was actually trying to be *kind.*

At last Asako opened her eyes and spoke without turning her head. "I..... thank you. But no. I'll take my chances." The bakemono grunted. "Your choice; stupid. Brave, but stupid."

She stayed there leaning against the wet, thick coat for a long moment more, taking a strange sort of comfort from his living presence. At least he was warm; there was precious little warmth in to be found in the pre-dawn darkness just now.A low growl of thunder boomed overhead, echoing back from the hills beyond; it mixed with the brittle sharp crack! of lightning, sounding oddly near beneath the lowering clouds.

Lightning? Why didn't she see it? It sounded so close, but there was no flash-----

----- and THEN a single golden hotwire-brilliance of power blew the darkness apart as Ushio charged towards them running hell-for-leather from between the trees, the Spear a spitting, crackling beacon in his hands. "HEADS UP!!! IT'S RIGHT BEHIND ME!!!!!"----- and there IT was, boiling red and hideous from between the trees, coming TOWARDS THEM----

Now, NOW. It was *time*-----!!!

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Gasp.... gasp.... phew! The final chapter will be out very soon, so lemmee know what you thought of this one while you wait, hmmm? Bye!..... Weary Ysabet