CHAPTER 11

Before the siblings set out for patrol that night, the ever-elegant princess of the oni apparently decided to say the most outrageous thing: “If it isn’t too much of an imposition, Milord, may I offer my humble assistance in your nightly activities?”

“You could really do away with the wording because no one here ever talks of the patrols that way,” Chi quickly replied, “but it’s entirely up to my brother.”

“Watch your tongue,” the blonde oni warned. “You’re talking to the ruler of the oni.”

“And? My brother’s the King of the Night. All nightwalkers bow to him, you’re not an exception.”

“Now, now, don’t make it sound like such a big deal,” Kou awkwardly interceded. “Also, we’d love to have you with us, Onihime. Thank you for the kind offer.”

“Nii-chan, no need to use keigo with these ones.”

“Did you just call us these ones?”

It was Kou’s turn to plant his palm in his face. They decided to host the oni on his insistence, letting them take up the guest room that was always just there all empty and cleaned for no reason (their mom insisted on keeping it guest-ready, though Kou had long suspected that it’s just so she had something to clean to take her mind off of things), and the two oni were actually okay about it. They did, after all, get allowed into the King’s abode, as simple a human home as it was.

Well, at least Onihime was clearly elated about it. Her retainer, the tall blonde girl with sarashi, the one Onihime introduced as Tenka Gozen (although the woman herself insisted on just being called Tenka), was at least a little less thrilled than she was.

“Tenka,” Onihime said in her sternest voice, “we are imposing. Have some decorum.”

“But, Hime—”

Chi was clearly snickering at that, so Kou couldn’t help but smack her on the head.

“Ow—Nii-chan, what the hell?”

“That applies to you, too, Chi. They’re our guests. Mind your manners.”

“But, Nii-chan—”

“No buts.” The young girl was pouting, and Kou actually didn’t have the heart to push her much more than that, but he had to keep her under control somehow. “They’re coming with us. It’s not like there’s usually much to worry about, anyway.”

“Fine.”

Their nightly patrols actually didn’t start until pretty deep in the night, a little after the last train had departed. They’d be mostly navigating the neighborhood, after all, and they wouldn’t have an explanation or some way to do away with what they were doing if they were ever caught—it wouldn’t be as much of a problem later, when they’ve finally learned hypnosis, but it’s still a problem now.

They tried to reduce the possibility of being encountered by traversing the rooftops—making use of their light steps and half-flights to ensure that they remained undetected by anyone in the houses they hopped on—but they couldn’t turn invisible.

There’s no telling how loud the oni would be. They weren’t exactly known as creatures who acted in silence, after all. If anything, they were always described as gigantic, monstrous threats to human lives without a hint of subtlety. There was nothing subtle about Shuten-douji. There was nothing subtle about Ibaraki-douji. There was nothing subtle about Ootakemaru. When they attacked, they attacked and made sure everybody knew. They’re kind of like bandits in that regard. Heck, some historical records treated human bandits as demons or oni with this exact behavior in mind.

Kou could tell that Chi’s main point of worry was that they had no idea how quiet the pair of oni could be—Tenka especially, though Kou wouldn’t say that out loud. There’s also the fact that they weren’t sure how used or unused the oni were to human society. If they made a mess, who knows how they’d handle that … Kou figured that Chi would just tell him to order the two oni to keep it down using his Authority or something, but he wasn’t really a fan of the idea of ordering people around.

(And he also didn’t have a strong grasp on his Authority just yet, but let’s not mention that in front of the oni.)

“We’ll need you to follow a few basic rules,” Kou explained. “This is for our safety and yours. Unless you can promise to follow all these, I’d regrettably need you to leave Tokyo posthaste.”

He made it sound more threatening than he really could be, but it’s important that the oni followed. Chi’s short lessons on sounding serious were paying off. Onihime solemnly nodded, while Tenka groaned before huffing a breath and murmuring something that sounded like a very reluctant ‘yes’.

“First—these patrols were meant to safeguard the line between humans and nightwalkers,” Kou said. “And this meant no killing.”

“No need to worry about that,” Tenka quipped. “It’s not like we go around killing anyone left or right.”

Kou stared her down. “I mean it.”

Tenka groaned again, scratching her head. “Got it.”

“Second—safeguarding the line means no killing, but that doesn’t only apply to us. We stop humans who try to kill nightwalkers. And we stop nightwalkers who try to kill humans.”

Tenka’s jaw dropped. “Wha—the heck are ya sayin’?!”

“You—”

“Tenka!”

Tenka suddenly popped a paper fan from inside her sleeve, but Chi and Onihime reacted at the exact same time. Chi’s claws were out, her stance was ready to strike; Onihime was nowhere near as aggressive, but she was already standing between Tenka and Kou, as if to shield Tenka.

“Milord! I beg your forgiveness!”

Chi hissed, but Onihime bowed—a perfect 90-degree bow. Even Tenka was visibly shocked by her gesture.

“Tenka Gozen has little in the way of discipline, but she’s still young—her heart is kind, and her loyalty is strong. I beg your forgiveness for her impudence!”

Tenka gritted her teeth. “Hime, don’t—”

“You be quiet!”

The blonde oni was growing exasperated. “They’ve only been here for 100 years! Why must we bow to them?!”

Kou was about to raise his hand—to reassure Onihime that he forgave Tenka, of course—but, to his surprise, Chi retracted her claws.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she muttered.

Enforcers.

The function of the Enforcers was to make sure that the Four Absolutes were … well, absolute. All nightwalkers in Japan were tied to the Four Absolutes—it’s a Contract at least a hundred years old that they all had to abide by. The King was an important figurehead in keeping this Contract.

The first Absolute: all nightwalkers only act with their true forms after sundown and before sunrise. This made sure that the night belonged to the nightwalkers as the day belonged to the humans.

The second Absolute: no humans are to be harmed by nightwalkers not moving in their true forms. This made sure that nightwalkers don’t attack humans by day, and more importantly, it allowed the attacked humans to see who attacked them, keeping their image alive and maintaining their spiritual identities.

The third Absolute: consuming fellow nightwalkers is only restricted by the decrees of each race and the King. In other words, unless decreed otherwise by the powers of each race, there’s really no limitation to nightwalkers consuming each other. Life essence was important to nightwalkers, so the Kings wanted to avoid regulating it too tightly.

The fourth and final Absolute: all nightwalkers bow to the Authority of the King of the Night.

All nightwalkers, even the royalties of each race.

What Tenka stated was tantamount to breaking the fourth Absolute.

Four Enforcers appeared out of thin air behind Tenka, pushing the oni so hard that she smacked the ground, and two more Enforcers appeared to help hold her down. “Wha—what is this?”

“Your consequences,” Chi said coldly. “My warnings were never to protect us or our dignity or whatever. It’s to protect you.”

The horror on Onihime’s face was unmistakable. Tenka tried to fight back and get up again, but the six Enforcers were clearly more than enough to keep her pinned down. That should be enough, no?

“Enough,” Kou commanded. The Enforcers responded immediately and let Tenka go. She gritted her teeth before bringing herself back to her feet.

“Thank you … Milord.”

“Tenka-san,” Kou said as he dismissed the Enforcers. “Do you understand why I wanted to prevent all killings from both sides?”

Tenka’s entire expression of disbelief definitely said something like because you’re a softie, but Kou allowed her that mental answer.

“How long have you been alive for?”

“Since before the first vampire came here,” she hissed. Kou nodded.

“In all that time, have you ever attacked a human being?”

“A few times.”

“Have you lost friends to human beings?”

She didn’t reply immediately. “A few times.”

“Have you been to human settlements lately?”

“… only now.”

Kou smiled at her. “What do you think?”

Tenka seemed to have calmed down a little. “It’s … surprising.”

“Because it’s so bright?”

“Yes.”

“And full of concrete?”

“Yes.”

“And very tall?”

“… yes.”

“This is what humans achieved in a little over a hundred years,” Kou said. “The human curiosity is incredible, and the answers they come up with for their questions? Even more so. However, they had nothing to curb this curiosity. Us … we nightwalkers aren’t an exception.”

Tenka fell silent. Historically, the fall of the most powerful oni were often due to human ingenuity. Minamoto-no-Yorimitsu snuck into Shuten-douji’s abode by pretending to be monks, then patiently waited until the oni fell asleep to slay him. Sakanoue-no-Tamuramaro killed Ootakemaru by deceiving him with the help of Suzuka Gozen. Ibaraki-douji lost her hand because Watanabe-no-Tsuna was curious enough to investigate the rumors about an oni survivor at Rashomon.

Human curiosity led to human answers, and human answers led to oni downfall. Not a lot of oni left their marks in history, but many human heroics featured the killing of oni.

Understanding seemed to dawn in Tenka’s eyes.

“These laws protect humans, true,” Kou said. “And so are my patrols. But, above all else, I need you to understand that they protect you, too. Deaths from either side will only make things worse—I intend to prevent that from happening, whenever I can.”

“And if there are nightwalker attacks?” Tenka asked. “Do you want to stop them from getting their meals?”

“I don’t mind them eating chi for survival. I do mind them killing humans for it, though. If they go for the kill with their attacks, I stop them. If they start taking more chi than necessary, I stop them.”

Tenka stared Kou in the eye—her eyes were amber, the same shade Kou and Chi used to hide their red eyes. Not quite the classic Japanese black, but it didn’t really stand out, either. “Understood.”

“Will you be attacking humans during our patrol?”

It’s nighttime. It’s technically not against the Absolutes for the nightwalkers to attack humans who were still out at this time. Tenka, however, slowly shook her head. “No.”

“Will you stand by if anyone,” emphasis on anyone, “is being attacked during our patrol?”

“No.”

“Will you help us maintain the lines that define our safety?”

“Yes.”

Kou smiled. “That’s great. Thank you for your help, Tenka-san.”

With that, the party of four left for the patrols. Kou explained the rooftop traversal thing, and Tenka actually bowed a little to apologize because she couldn’t usually be that subtle—she’d try her best, however. Onihime looked more excited about the prospect of actually joining the King’s patrols more than anything else, and she promised to try her best and keep things quiet.

So they took off.

“By the way,” Kou said as they began hopping over the first few houses, “there’s no need to be very formal with me. Casual speech is fine.”

Onihime took a second before replying. “Pardon my rudeness, Milord, but have you also not been using keigo to converse with us?”

“That’s just for politeness’ sake,” Kou replied. “We’re … technically strangers, after all. I can’t just drop keigo and be casual with strangers.”

“Then … if I were to be so impertinent as to conclude, Milord, does this mean casual speech would endear ourselves to you through our conversations?”

Kou could tell that Chi was staring daggers at him, but he brushed it off. “Correct.”

“In that case, Milord, if that is indeed your wish, I shall attempt to converse with you in a more casual manner.”

Chi clicked her tongue, but Kou flashed Onihime a smile. “I’d like that. Thanks. Also, please extend this courtesy to my little sister as well.”

Kou could almost hear Chi’s gasp of disbelief. “Wha—Nii-chan?”

“Understood,” Onihime said as she turned to Chi. “I’ll be in your care, Little Sister-san!”

Chi struggled for a few seconds, juggling responses in her head, but then realized that Onihime couldn’t have done that with ill intentions in mind. She sighed. “Urgh, fine. Call me Chi.”

“Got it, Chi-san!”

Chi groaned.

For someone who said she couldn’t be subtle, Tenka was soundless. Kou’s first impression of her was this brash woman who’d use force to break through everything, much closer to the traditional image of an oni—what with her bright hair and fiery eyes—but she was actually moving with a lot of grace that would’ve caught anybody by surprise.

Onihime, on the other hand, was clearly grace personified. She was probably a lot closer to the disguise that Ibaraki-douji used when she fooled Watanabe-no-Tsuna the first time, the guise of a classical Japanese beauty, but her movement was also very swift. Kou could notice that she was scanning ahead, making sure that her jumps landed on the hardest surfaces, minimizing the noise she made while making sure she spent only the minimum amount of energy needed to catch up to the siblings. She wasn’t letting it show, but she was very good at controlling her own body—she could make for a formidable fighter.

Kou sensed no malice, but he realized that he shouldn’t underestimate her. Onihime was, after all, still the princess of the oni.

The last time the oni had any sort of leadership like this, it was back when Shuten-douji subjugated literally anyone who came in his way.

Did Onihime subjugate them the same way?

“How long have you been the princess of the oni, by the way?” Kou asked. “Sorry, we don’t get in touch with the oni a lot. I’m curious.”

“That’s alright. We haven’t been going out of our boundaries a lot lately, too,” Onihime answered with a gentle tone. “I took the mantle just around eighty years ago, actually. So it was some time after the Absolutes were put in place.”

Eighty years ago—the Second World War? Could the shifting balance in the human world influence the balance in the oni world as well? Kou wanted to ask that to the Princess, but he doubted he would get a clear-cut answer. “And Tenka-san was always with you?”

Onihime practically beamed with the smile she made as she answered that. “Yes! Tenka had always been by my side since I was but a wee child. We’ve been inseparable since, even though we’re of different factions!”

Factions? “What do you mean by—”

A scream.

No. Two screams.

Chi was the first to react. “Nii-chan!”

Kou changed gears. “Let’s split up,” he commanded as he stopped on a rooftop, followed by the other three. “Two of us check the scream to the east, two of us to the south.”

“I’ll go with you—”

“I’ll go with Onihime,” Kou interrupted. “You go with Tenka—cover the east. Go!”

Chi and Tenka clearly wanted to voice their complaints, but Kou already jumped southwards—followed by Onihime, leaving them no choice but to go east.

Kou had some considerations for this. First, he didn’t want Tenka to see him fight. Onihime was clearly the more reasonable one, and she was definitely a capable fighter in her own rights—judging from her movements, at least—so Kou could at least still reason with her should anything go wrong.

Secondly, Onihime was, for some reason, very much willing to obey the Authority.

Thirdly, Tenka was probably still feeling bitter about him. If he failed to keep her under control again, he’d just sour their already bad relations.

Finally, both Chi and Tenka visibly followed the same nightwalker common sense. They were more alike with each other than they’d like. It’s probably exactly why they kept grinding each other’s gears, but at the same time, in the heat of battle, it could make them work together surprisingly well.

He had no time to explain all of this, though: they were approaching the fading scream.

The scream was fading.

Kou was expecting a mushiyoukai. Most nightwalkers didn’t draw chi that quickly—they usually also leave physical marks and everything, too, unlike the purely chi-eating mushiyoukai.

The scream was already fading, so it’s a pretty quick drain. It should be a mushiyoukai attack….

It was not a mushiyoukai attack.

Down there on the street, straggling a deathly pale salaryman, was a little boy.

He turned when Kou arrived.

He only had one eye.

It’s a hitotsume-kozo.

“Stop!”

Kou jumped to tackle the nightwalker as he shouted that, but Onihime was one step ahead of him—using the house walls as her platform, she kicked ahead so strongly she promptly disappeared from sight.

She reappeared right next to the hitotsume-kozo.

She pushed the hitotsume-kozo off of the human he preyed on, and Kou landed right next to the salaryman.

First check—he’s still breathing. His chest was still rising and falling steadily.

Second check—he’s pale. Was his blood flow disturbed?

Kou crouched, pressing his thumb to the man’s wrist. Third check—his heart was still beating. It’s weak, but it’s there.

Everything else seemed steady. He would probably be incapacitated for a few days, but nothing immediately life-threatening.

In other words, he could deal with the hitotsume-kozo first.

He left the man to check on Onihime—not a scratch on her. She really just tackled the hitotsume-kozo and kept him pinned to the ground like that.

“What do we do with him, Milord?”

“Let me have a look.”

The hitotsume-kozo was still struggling to break free, but there’s enough light from the street lamp for Kou to determine his features. First off, hitotsume-kozo weren’t supposed to be aggressive—they’re pranksters at best. They’d pop out of the darkness and scare passerbys with their one singular eye in the middle of their skulls. It’s odd that this one attacked a human being.

Bloodlink?

In terms of location, this place looked about right. hitotsume-kozo had been haunting Tokyo crossroads since before the place was even called Tokyo. This place was such a crossroads, though it’s located in a residential zone. In other words, this one was probably not sent from elsewhere like Kurotarou.

His eye wasn’t reddened. His fangs weren’t elongated. He was aggressive, erratic, but not particularly stronger than usual.

If anything, he seemed weaker….

So it wasn’t a bloodlink. Kou touched Onihime’s shoulder. “Allow me.”

Onihime was hesitant, but she then let the hitotsume-kozo go.

The monster leapt from the ground, straight to Kou—who received him.

“Here,” he said, giving his arm. The hitotsume-kozo didn’t hesitate to bare his barely-existent fangs and chomp into it.

He started suckling the chi out of Kou. Onihime gasped.

“Milord—”

“I’m okay,” he said, waving his free hand to make sure Onihime didn’t move. Kou let the hitotsume-kozo suckle on his life essence a bit more, and slowly, his erratic eye came into clearer focus. His pupil dilated a little.

“Wha—?”

He jumped off of Kou’s arm. Kou smiled at him. “Do you feel better?”

“What have I—oh, goodness, Your Highness, what have I done?”

“Are you alright?”

“I feel…,” the hitotsume-kozo touched his temples. “I feel … weak….”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not … sure….”

Kou crouched to level himself to the hitotsume-kozo’s height. “Anything you remember can help. What’s wrong? Why do you feel weak?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, I’m not….”

His voice trailed off. Kou observed him a little more—he just needed that essence. He wasn’t strengthened or bloodlinked, he was desperate.

He was starving.

Something had to be wrong.

“Alright,” Kou said. “Can you smell the mushiyoukai?”

“They’re a bit … far away from here?”

“Do you think you can make it there before tomorrow?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Then head there. You can haunt the crossroads near there until we get things here figured out. I don’t want you to disappear, but I need you to not kill human beings. You hear me?”

“Y-yes, Your Highness.”

With that, the hitotsume-kozo disappeared.

“Are you alright, Milord?”

Onihime crouched as well to level herself with Kou, then reached to touch the arm Kou gave the hitotsume-kozo. There was slight scarring there—nothing big, just a bit of a scratch, but a scar nonetheless. She was shaking a little.

“I’m okay,” Kou said, grimacing a little. Onihime went to touch the scar, making him flinch.

“Apologies!” she gasped. “I—I happen to know a little healing magic. I thought….”

“O-oh,” Kou slowly stretched his arm out again. “T-then….”

Onihime blushed. “U-understood, Milord. Please wait there a little and don’t move.”

She again touched the wound, but this time it felt warm. A very comfortable warmth, like the kind of warmth one gets when being hugged by their own mother.

“You are a very gentle King, Milord,” Onihime said under her breath.

“Oh? I only gave him a little, you know. It’s barely enough for anything.”

“It’s enough to save him and that man over there. You didn’t even punish him for nearly killing the man.”

“He was starving,” Kou said as the healing finished. “The attack was but a consequence of the fact that something’s wrong. It’s my job to find out what and fix it.”

Onihime took a second to think about Kou’s answer, then finally smiled. “I knew it. I’m glad that you are my King, Milord.”

Kou awkwardly chuckled. I hope it stays that way, he thought. “Let’s check on my sister and Tenka-san and see what they found.”

*