21 The Shrine Master

  [Player: Kazuki Arata]

  [Level: 4]

  [Waza: Black Hand, Thread Cutter, Aura Sense, Dark Rider, Retribution, Eviscerate]

  [Kegare: 0%]

  [Status: Falling]

  ---

  A cry tore from Fleet's throat. Kazuki's stomach lurched, the wind blasting them both, roaring in his ears like some great beast. He clutched Fleet to his chest, turning so that if they struck anything, it would be on Kazuki's back.

  The sensation was terrible and beautiful at once; the weightlessness, the rush of air against his face, the way Fleet's small heart hammered against his own chest. The fox's hair, like fur, tickled his chin, damp with sweat and fear.

  The forest canopy rushed up in a swirl of leaves, branches, and swirling sunlight. Kazuki's mind flitted with regret and acceptance… but not fear. Not anymore.

  A blur of black feathers sliced through the air. One moment, they were in free-fall; the next, a pair of strong arms and large, tattered wings wrapped around them from behind.

  Karaba.

  High above on the veranda, Karaba had watched them cling to life.

  Let the cursed one die. The shrine will be safer.

  But something had shifted in him when he'd seen Kazuki choose to fall rather than sacrifice Fleet. It reminded him of Suzume, years ago, refusing to leave Karaba's side when his wings had been burned in an accident. And the tengu understood what he was witnessing wasn't corruption.

  No one completely corrupted by kegare would choose another's life over their own. It wasn't possible.

  "Kazuki!" Suzume screamed beside him, her hand reaching out hopelessly after the falling pair.

  Karaba vaulted over the railing. His wings tight to his sides, ribs cracking with acceleration as he dove toward the plummeting figures, his body a dark arrow cutting through empty space.

  Faster, faster! He urged himself, every muscle in his body straining toward a single purpose.

  He was, in that moment, a miracle—his own inhuman speed letting him intercept them mid-descent. Their three bodies smashed together as Karaba tried to slow their momentum, his wings angled to break the fall. But they were too heavy, and he was too close to the ground.

  They still crashed, plunging the final meters into the forest floor in a violent tumble.

  Branches whipped at their faces, leaves stung like green razors, and the impact jared every bone in Kazuki's body. Pain. He lost all sense of up or down, only Karaba's wings around them, and Fleet's body pinned to his chest.

  The world went black.

  Kazuki's next recollection came in fragments:

  The smell of tatami and fresh herbs.

  A soft voice: Suzume's. "They're alive?"

  Another voice, deeper: Karaba. "Yes… but…"

  A strangled sound, halfway between pain and relief.

  The sensation of a warm cloth against his brow.

  A distant hush, footsteps, hushed conversation.

  He sank back into darkness, lulled by the knowledge that at least, for now, he was safe.

  When he woke properly, it was with a deep ache across his entire body. His chest felt bandaged. His arms were stiff. He blinked in the amber light of a paper lantern overhead.

  He lay on a tatami mat inside a small chamber with sliding shoji doors. The faint smell of sandalwood incense, cedar and pine drifted in the air. From somewhere beyond sliding doors came the tranquil hiss of wind in the pines.

  He tried to sit up. His ribs protested, and he bit off a groan. Yet as the pain spiked, he realized something else: His kegare was gone. Not diminished or suppressed… gone, or at least near enough to zero that it felt like an empty well.

  Kazuki felt clean. And empty.

  Memories rushed back: We merged. We soared. We fell. Karaba saved us.

  He turned, looking around the small chamber. Fleet lay on another futon, bandages around one arm, sleeping soundly, the small fox's chest rising and falling in slow rhythm.

  Kazuki managed a painful crawl over to him. The moment he brushed Fleet's hair back, the fox stirred, blinking bleary eyes.

  "Kazuki?" Fleet whispered.

  "You okay?"

  Fleet swallowed. "I… think so. My arm hurts. But… we're alive?"

  Kazuki nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "We are."

  A new voice interjected softly, "And I'm so, so glad."

  They both turned. Suzume stood in the doorway, hands folded in front of her chest. She stepped inside, dropping to her knees next to them. Her face was visibly damp with tears, though she tried to smile.

  "You idiots," she chided gently, wiping her cheeks. "Throwing yourselves off the Sky Road like that…"

  Kazuki's throat tightened. "We had no choice."

  "I know." Suzume reached out, hesitated, then touched Fleet's bandaged forearm. "We found you two unconscious at the base of that tree, with Karaba lying half on top of you, wings wrapped around your bodies."

  Fleet's eyes went wide. "He… he saved us."

  "It nearly killed him. He can't fly until those wings heal," Suzume murmured, glancing aside. "Both wings dislocated at the shoulder joint. Three primary feathers snapped at the quill. The impact... it went through his entire body." She bit her lip, voice thickening. "But you both were so close to death… I was sure…" She bit her lip, unable to finish.

  A hush fell over them. Kazuki took Suzume's hand, gave it a faint squeeze. "Thank you," he said. "How… how did you bring us up to the shrine?"

  Suzume smiled faintly, tears shining. "There's a small tram system for supplies, a kind of pulley elevator behind the main structure. Normally it's not for, well… people. But we had no choice."

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  Kazuki tried to imagine Karaba's unconscious body, his own limp form, plus Fleet's, all loaded onto some squeaking freight cart, hoisted by ropes up the trunk of that gargantuan sugi tree. He laughed ruefully.

  "Wait," Fleet asked, glancing around with anxious eyes. "Are we… allowed to stay here? I mean… Kazuki…"

  Suzume gently pressed a palm to Kazuki's chest. "Your kegare is almost nothing now. The barrier wards didn't reject you. The Shrine Master gave permission."

  Kazuki's chest twisted with relief and confusion. "The Master… Karaba's teacher, right?"

  Suzume's face fell. "Yes."

  A sense of anticipation crept over Kazuki. He had so many questions. Why was he in the Yokai realm? What did it mean to be "cursed" or a "vessel unmarked"? Was he truly followed by the Eye of Inazuma?

  His heart hammered. "Then please, let's go. I… I need answers."

  Suzume looked uncertain. "Karaba insisted on speaking with you first."

  Kazuki nodded. He could almost feel that old anger stirring. Karaba. The proud, unyielding guardian who tried to kill him. And yet… who had risked his life to save them from that fall.

  They found Karaba in the main hall, kneeling before a small brazier that filled the space with soft, fragrant smoke. Long swaths of deep blue cloth draped from the hall's rafters, embroidered with the patterns of crows in flight. Sliding screens on both sides of the hall were open, letting in gentle mountain air.

  Karaba rose at their approach, but somewhat stiffly. Feathers, ragged and broken, edged his bent wings. Bandages wrapped the joints and the place where scapular feathers attached near his collarbones. Dark bruises mottled his arms. Beneath the bandages, Kazuki could see swollen flesh and traces of dried blood.

  He looked narrower, more vulnerable, than Kazuki had ever seen him.

  Suzume gave a small bow and withdrew, footsteps barely whispering on the polished wood.

  Kazuki and Fleet hesitated near the entrance.

  Karaba met Kazuki's gaze with silent intensity. For a moment, neither spoke, as if uncertain how to begin. Finally, Karaba cleared his throat.

  "You want to see the Shrine Master?" His voice was low, not quite free of pain.

  Kazuki stepped forward. "Yes. I… I have questions. About me, about this Eye of Inazuma, about everything."

  Karaba's gaze flicked over to Fleet, then back to Kazuki. His wings fluttered in a spasm of discomfort.

  "You can see him," Karaba said. "But you should know… he's very old. And not…" Karaba seemed to struggle for the right words.

  Karaba's eyes hardened, as if preparing for a fight. "Why do you want to see him so badly? Do you truly want to be part of this realm? Or are you just seeking a way out?"

  "Honestly? I don't know." His voice shook. "When I first arrived, all I wanted was to go home. But… now…" He glanced at Fleet, remembering how he'd chosen to fall rather than abandon him. "Now, I can't just leave everything behind."

  Karaba's expression remained guarded.

  Kazuki took a steadying breath. "I need to understand who… what… I am. Why this corruption, kegare, latched onto me. Maybe the Master can tell me."

  A long silence followed. Karaba finally inclined his head. "He might."

  Fleet cleared his throat softly, stepping forward. "Karaba… we're grateful you saved us. But… Why did you do it? I mean…" He fidgeted. "Last time, you tried to kill Kazuki."

  Kazuki's chest tightened at the memory.

  Karaba exhaled, wincing a bit as he shifted his bandaged wings. "I was prepared to let him die." The blunt honesty made Fleet cringe. Karaba's eyes flicked to Kazuki's. "But when I saw him let go of the ledge rather than drop you… when he chose to fall with you…."

  He paused, his gaze distant, as if seeing something beyond the walls of the shrine.

  "It reminded me of something that happened long ago," Karaba said softly. "

  Karaba's eyes returned to Kazuki's, sharp with understanding. "When I saw you make the same choice I once did, choosing someone else over yourself, I realized..."

  His voice faded.

  Karaba looked away, eyes dark. "Even if you were tainted by kegare, even if you carried some dangerous power… you still cared about that little fox. Enough to let yourself fall with no chance of living.”

  Karaba paused and closed his eyes before saying, “You didn't let him die alone."

  Fleet's eyes shone with tears. "You saved us because... because Kazuki wouldn't let me go?"

  Karaba gave a short, stiff nod. "If he'd proven himself a monster… or a coward… I'd have done nothing."

  Kazuki let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. In the end, he only managed a quiet, "I see."

  Karaba studied him a moment longer, then turned to the corridor leading deeper into the shrine. "If you really want to meet the Master, come this way."

  They followed Karaba through corridors painted with delicate murals of tengu dancing among clouds. Several times, they passed shrine attendants—a few looked human, others had crow-like features, but each gave the group respectful bows and hushed greetings.

  At length, Karaba stopped in front of a sliding door. A hush of reverence came over him. His normally stern face softened with something like grief. He drew a deep breath, squared his shoulders despite his injuries, and carefully slid the door aside, revealing a small, dim room.

  At its center lay a nest-like arrangement of folded blankets, woven mats, and soft, well-worn cushions. There, resting on his side, was an ancient karasu tengu with withered limbs and a face so lined with wrinkles that each breath seemed an effort. He wore a simple robe, and his wings, once perhaps imposing, were folded tight and nearly bald of feathers. The skin of his hands was translucent, blue veins visible beneath, like rice paper held up to light.

  The old tengu was sound asleep. Karaba stepped inside, lips pressed into a grim line. He knelt carefully, reaching to adjust a blanket over the Master's thin shoulders. His normally steady hands trembled slightly.

  This was the legendary Shrine Master? This frail, barely sleeping old man? The weight of disillusionment hit Kazuki like a physical blow. All his hopes for guidance, for a powerful figure who could make sense of everything… collapsed in an instant.

  I expected a Gandalf or some towering presence. Someone who could solve everything. But this...

  Karaba's face softened. He brushed a stray feather from the old man's brow with a gentleness that seemed entirely at odds with the fierce warrior who had once tried to kill Kazuki and nearly succeeded. Then Karaba straightened one corner of the blanket, his hand trembling slightly from what could have been pain, exhaustion, or emotion—perhaps all three.

  "This is the one you sought," he said quietly. "He's my mentor… my adoptive father. The guardian of this entire shrine. And now, the task has nearly killed him."

  A trembling, withered hand reached out from the blankets, grasping at empty air. Karaba instantly took it in his own. The old man's lips parted in a faint exhale, but his eyes didn't open.

  Kazuki's throat tightened with a crushing disappointment he couldn't fully hide. All his hopes for answers, for guidance… reduced to this frail figure clinging to life.

  Karaba didn't look away from the old tengu's face. "Some days, he's lucid. Others… not. The barrier is failing. He's poured so much of his life force into it for so many years. We're left to carry on in his place. That's why I was so adamant about keeping the kegare out."

  A flicker of bitterness crossed Karaba's face. "I've tried for years to carry more of the burden. To learn how to sustain the barrier myself. But he fades a little more each day before he can pass it all to me. And I just can’t do it. I'm a warrior, not a priest.

  That's why I've been..." he paused, "...severe in my duties."

  Sensing Kazuki's turmoil, Karaba spoke, "Don't give up. He still has moments of clarity. If you stay here… if you help us protect the shrine… perhaps he'll wake enough to speak with you."

  Kazuki closed his eyes. "I will," he said softly.

  Karaba nodded and smoothed a fold in the old man's blanket, his movements precise and gentle. Kazuki glimpsed the depth of his devotion—not just as a guardian, but as a son to this dying master.

  Then he turned back to Kazuki and Fleet.

  "Come outside," he said quietly, standing. "We'll let him rest. There are… other things you should know, about the shrine, about the barrier. And about how we intend to hold back the corruption."

  Fleet looked between the old Master and Karaba, his small face solemn. "Thank you for showing us," he said softly.

  Karaba only inclined his head, stepping aside so Kazuki and Fleet could follow him into the corridor.

  Kazuki paused in the corridor, gripping the door frame for support. He felt torn between conflicting waves of relief—he was alive, Fleet was alive, Suzume was safe—and a new, sharper grief that no wise old Master was waiting to either judge him or fix his problems.

  So it's just us, then. Just him, Fleet, Suzume, and ironically Karaba.

  He closed his eyes, remembering the moment he'd let go of that ledge. The sensation of weightlessness, the wind roaring past his ears, Fleet's small body clutched against his chest. The moment he'd chosen not to abandon his friend.

  And Karaba's words rang in his mind: "Anyone who won't let a friend die alone can't be entirely lost."

  Kazuki inhaled deeply.

  ---

  [Achievement Unlocked: Black Arrow]

  [Next Chapter: A Stranger’s Token]

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