Humility.
Like Ryuichi...
Only his charge had never allowed it to steal his soul. Never allowed such horrors to make him mean.
That was why they had to save him—before life and cruelty turned him into these pitiful creatures. For that was the worst crime of all. To surrender one’s soul to bitterness and hatred.
Koichi softened his grip on his charge, more determined than ever to reunite the boy with the part of him that gave him his compassion. “We’re just passing through. If you’ll excuse us...” He started forward.
Tsukiya cut him off. Tilting his head with that expressionless mask concealing his mood, he swept out his arm, leaving his sleeve to pool around his feet. “Passing through? Why, good Koichi, one does not simply pass through our realm. You know this. There are protocols and traditions to be followed.”
Here we go...
Mizuki stepped forward and stiffened noticeably. “Do you think yourself better thanus?”
“Of course not, my lord and lady. I merely?—”
“Silence.” Tsukiya raised his hand toward the heavens, then flipped the stick to cover his face with the mask at the opposite end—the face of an angry oni that changed, by magic, into one of annoyance. “I presume you brought tribute.” He stepped closer so that Koichi could see that he meant the bag with Ryuichi in it. “After all?—”
“It’s only fair that you pay a toll to travel our lands,” his sister finished.
Before he could speak, Masaru let out a rude snort. “You mean theRyukage’slands.”
That rolled over the gods like an ice storm.
A low hiss came out, making the oni mask even more ominous; it turned a bright crimson to match the embroidered blood on the kimonos.
“How dare you!” Mizuki snarled. “These are our lands, as they?—”
Tsukiya nodded in agreement with his sister. “Have always been. We created this realm. It is ours by right.”
Mizuki stepped toward Masaru. “Ryukage may play at being a god, but we were conceived and born as such! He’s an insect. A nobody. Meaningless, little, worthless?—”
“I believe the point has been made, Sister.” Tsukiya pulled her back.
“Don’t touch me.” Mizuki stepped back from her brother and squared off.
Lowering his mask, he made ready to battle her.
Until they remembered there was bigger sport to be had.
Tsukiya cleared his throat and returned to the expressionless white mask as he turned to face them. “This is our world. The Ryukage merely plays in it because we allow him to.”
Keiko tsked. “But he’s no friend of yours. Perhaps we could persuade you to help us purge him from this land.”
Tsukiya’s masks switched back and forth between the red oni and white, vacant expression. “No. I don’t think so. Watching him and his tantrums is too much fun.”
“So fun.” Mizuki smiled.
He flipped back to his oni face. “Hilarious, even.” He came closer to them. “Watching mortal and yokai alike panic in fear of his antics brings us endless pleasure.”
“Endless.” Mizuki clapped her hands.
Tsukiya paused at his sister’s comment. He lowered his mask to glare at her. “That’s what I said.”
“So much pleasure.” Mizuki repeated to spite him.
Tsukiya curled his lip. “Brainless idiot.” He rolled his eyes, then returned his mask to his face before he refocused his attention on the bag Koichi carried. “What’s. In. The. Bag?”
