Don't Lick That

 "Does your plan have to involve walking all over the neighbourhood?"

"Look, just trust me for once, it'll make things quicker." Lachlan held up a gloved finger as they strolled down the relatively busy street beneath the shade of pagoda-style eaves strung with flower baskets and unlit lanterns, a few pedestrians glancing sideways at them. "First off, you're all obake, aren't you?"

"Ordinary humans can't use the Samurai cores, gaijin. Surely you at least knew that by now," Eden sniffed out his two cents, as if anyone had ever bothered to tell him.

Interesting. Something to do with the spirit projection part? It'd make sense that ordinary people couldn't manage it, without the spirit renovations to project through. "Do now. So what're your yuurei?"

Ariake sighed but answered him anyway. "A hawk."

Lachlan squinted sideways at him as they turned down a one-way street. Hold on, wasn't his last name Takanashi? "And your name's 'Without Hawk'?"

The glare the kid sent him should've honestly made him drop dead right then and there. "My family has a proud history of bird-type obake."

Ariake Takanashi, the hawk obake. He wasn't laughing. Wouldn't laugh. But he might just find it incredibly amusing later when the other wasn't around. "Moving on, then."

He turned expectantly to the other two, Eden's mouth turning down in an almost petulant scowl. "Bear."

Hadn't expected that. "And Drake?" He prompted, the big lad trying to shrink behind Eden from the looks of it, and failing because the other obake was about half his size.

Drake cleared his throat, oddly reluctant about the whole thing. "Lizard."

Bit of an oddball bunch from the looks of it. "Alright then, to answer your question—"

"And yours is?" Eden cut him off with his signature unblinking look that suited a bird of prey far better than a bear.

"Apologies, your honour. Wolf." He gave a little sarcastic bow, King Ed scowling back but apparently satisfied. "Alright, if we want to do this quickly, then our best bet is to sniff around this yokai's hauntings between our little house visits. You should be able to sense it more easily if you pull your yuurei or switch forms. And if you run into any local yokai you can try asking if they know anything."

He pulled his not-pager off his belt and waved it. "We'll separate to cover more distance, keeping each other updated. You can pick where you want to go, but we'll mark them off so we don't double-back on each other. Sound good?"

Surprisingly no one had any real objections, even Ariake.
Progress, he supposed.

_________________

That was how he found himself casually strolling along behind a little yokai two bathrooms, angry residents, and one fearful superstitious bathhouse attendant convinced it was actually a bathroom demon, later. Fur cape pulled on to see the little spirit and interact with it better, he asked, "So you know it?"

It turned back to him, flickering a nod with Tobira's face—looked exactly like him, too—and then switched to an akaname a little more evil-looking than the one on the assignment, chomping another yokai drifting along curiously in the alleyway and air-stomping menacingly.

"Mean fellow, eh?"

In response, it pantomimed mini yokai converging on the monster only for it to stomp off with smoke billowing out of its nostrils.

He couldn't help grinning a little. "Sounds like somebody I know."

Following up with a tale of woe involving a comically villainous akaname menacing bathrooms occupied by hilariously angry or terrified humans, it gave him a decent picture of what'd been going on around here.

"A real rebel, eh. Do you know if he's in this place now?"

It shook its Tobira-head and indicated off down stairs leading into a darker section shadowed by crowded, tall apartments with swooping tiers of eaves and power lines strung between. Sinister.

"So it is. But I'm sure you're up to leading me all the way there so I can have a chat to him, eh?"

Shivering, it spun in an uncertain little circle, but continued on anyway. Good lad.

His radio-pager crackled into staticky life as he followed the wisp into a cramped tunnel within what looked like the basement levels of the higgledy-piggledy buildings blotting out the sky above, the rest of the city abruptly up above his head on another layer entirely. Slipping it off his belt as he edged his way after the yokai—more glow than heat-ripple in the shadows here—he frowned. "Think the reception's bad here. Can you read me?"

No understandable response.

He decided to send a pager to each on where he thought he was, instead. While a response took its time to come through, he caught up with his guide, extricating himself and stepping into a....

He paused, doing a double take at the trees stretching up the sides of a grassy walkway, an entire forest populating the dim spaces between the houses occupying the foothills of the massive complex. If he looked up, he could see the bottom of closed pathways through the leaves and wires. Balconies with pot plants, too.

His beeper beeped, and he glanced at his new page. <Ongaku district?>

He accidentally brushed one of the glimmer lanterns randomly strung from skinny little twisted tree limbs trying to keep an eye on both the yokai and his pager. <Probably. Forest place under some complex. Came through a tiny tunnel.>

<I'm on my way,> a page from a different number came through, another on its heels. <Ongaku. Through Chisaii Walk?>

An old man stared at him from one of the doorways lining the "street" as he fired off a quick reply to each of the other two. Probably wondering when gaijin had joined the spirits living down here.

And a few populated this maze, too. He had to pull on his yuurei again to pick out his guide, little bobbing lights swirled curiously around them.

One gave him a little nip, a tiny shock zipping up his arm, only to flee in terror with the rest of the group when he snapped back. He let out an amused snort at their antics, brushing into the depths of a dark little den, a pair of swallows scaring off, their shrill shrieks fading into the hint of a chill breeze stirring the shadows.

And his hackles immediately shot up.

"What the hell?" He froze mid-step, his ears twitching almost against their will to catch every beat of a larger bird's wings above, every rustle of leaves as something—an oppressive weight he couldn't define—pressed down on every animal part of him.

Pushing firmly back on the irrational urge to growl at the shadows, he hissed in a quick breath, flicking between the shifting darkness hiding in the bushes, and the mossy pipe running above a little hole in the side of the building next to him. ...That looks promising.

He forced his feet to uproot, taking a step—

And spun as a whistling call shrieked in behind him with a rustling flutter of wings.

He found himself staring into the brilliant orange eyes of a little grey sparrowhawk perched on a twisted branch, its gaze flickering over the clearing warily. "What is this, gaijin?"

Ariake? He squinted, breathing again. Hadn't expected him to be one of the smaller varieties, somehow. "You got here quickly."

"You weren't that hard to find," the bird snapped as Lachlan firmly beat his twitchy nerves into place and turned back to his original goal. "And answer me, dammit— How did you stumble on this place?"

"Depends on what you mean," he hummed, crouching at the dark crumbling mouth of the hole. His heartbeat pulsed softly in his ears and his hackles bristled, instincts telling him to either run or prepare for a fight. He cast aside both, peering into a chilly tunnel that smelled of mould, damp, and what he could only describe as the cold tang of malice.

A low rumble lifted about every ethereal hair on his pelt and skin. It took him a moment to realise it was his own.

Goddammit. Shut up, you. He clenched his teeth, mentally whacking the damn wolf's snout with an imaginary newspaper, and contemplated the tunnel it was very insistent led to hell itself. Not sure I like the look of it myself.

Maybe that bathhouse attendant had been right.

"Exactly what your yuurei's telling you it is. This is an akuma's lair. How did you find an akuma's lair?"

"You'd have to ask my little friend." Glancing over his shoulder, he found the yokai still there, spinning in agitated flickering circles. "Oi, is this really where our mischief-maker hangs out?"

"It— what?"

It fluttered a nod, flashing through quick impressions of monsters and dark things he couldn't really make any sense of.

"Wait, the akaname is an akuma?"

"Seems so." Lachlan shrugged. Found it hard to believe himself, really. "Thought it'd just hit its terrible teens, but maybe it is. Can't be that powerful feeding off the annoyance of an angry old lady and a few scared bathhouse employees, though."

"This aura's strong." He'd never seen a bird make a face till now. "Damn, how did it get this strong and nobody noticed?"

"Don't know." He gazed up, trying to see past the canopy. "Did you catch any of the others on the way?"

"I radioed before diving in. They should be here soon." The bird hopped off the branch, flashing to human-with-cape form and landing lightly, his orange-glowing eyes flicking warily around, taloned fingers twitching at his side and the sharp beak of the hawk ghosting his head arcing low over his nose. "Damn, it's even worse down here. What are you staring at?"

Lachlan didn't bother to correct the tilt of his head. "Haven't seen a lot of bird-obake. Doesn't look as strange as I thought it would."

Ariake glared at him. "That's funny, because you look exactly like the gaijin dog I thought you'd be."

"I'm hurt." He turned to the yokai again, tapping at the crumbling side of the tunnel. "Where does this lead?"

It conjured up dark rooms of people with full-body tattoos playing cards and handing around glowing jars.

Yakuza? "What the hell do yakuza have to do with any of this?" He muttered, turning back to the hole. "And why do I always wind up running into them?"

"Oh, great, an akuma and now magic-dealing yakuza. Are you cursed, gaijin—?"

"Yakuza?" A new voice asked.

He jumped again, nearly smacking his head into the bricks with a curse as he spun around. His eyes landed on a familiar disapproving stare in the shadows by the bushes, white hair misted out by black bear ears. "And how in the sky's name did you find an akuma's lair, gaijin?"

"That's my question," Ariake grumbled, sending him a sideways glance. "But it looks like the akaname turned into one while no one was looking. Where's the other gaijin?"

As if summoned, Drake, looking very human with no hint of a yuurei pulled around him, stepped out of the bushes. And blinked at them all. "What's going on?"

Lachlan gestured aimlessly at him in the pregnant silence. "You might want to pull on your yuurei."

"Can you really not sense the akuma's aura?" Eden narrowed his eyes at the clueless lad.

"Oh," Doresu said. "That."

"You know what, I really don't care. Let's just go." Ariake slipped past him into the tunnel. "Goudon-san will be at the top of the leaderboard by the time we find this bastard yokai."

"Kore, hey." Lachlan toed his leg, making the teen glare over his shoulder. "I'll go first. I can see and smell better in the dark than you."

He turned back to the others, waving off the yokai still hanging anxiously around. "Thanks for the help, you can go off back to your friends." Glancing at Drake, who showed no signs of bothering with his abilities, he added, "You'll be in the middle with Ariake, and Eden, you're at the back. Let's go."

He switched forms to make things easier, nudging ahead of a glowering Ariake. The malignant feeling followed them down into the space beneath the floorboards, brushing past pipes that stank of ooze and ratty insulation. Someone spluttered behind him, probably running into the spiderweb he'd just ducked.

Thus far, apart from the stench filling the entire place and the evil aura, they hadn't actually seen hide nor hair of their target. Instead, the sound of low chatter and loud laughter filtered down from a grated square of light ahead.

And with a waft of mould, two glowing eyes in an inky, skeletal wrongness scuttled into view.