The Monster You Fear

“There is a monster with your face in old Osaka. Are you afraid?”

“Why would I fear myself?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Hitode was in hell again, in a valley of needles. But this time no mother visited. No rope came down. He was already a part of the chain, being dragged through the countless jagged edges.

Standing just above him was Daniel, sitting on his chest.

“At some point, you’re going to realize these aren’t needles you’re being dragged through.”

“How did you get out?” asked Hitode.

Daniel ignored him “These are matches. Hundreds of billions of fires that you lit and burnt out into thorns. Most people don’t get this many chances. But you, you get fire after fire.

“It wasn’t my choice.”

“No, but it was yours anyways. Isn’t that what you say?”

Daniel pinched Hitode’s nose.

“You’ve always asked for mercy. Try giving it to yourself for once. Or at the very least, give it to her. You’ll be surprised at how much help you can get.”

“How am I supposed to help when I’m being dragged across hell by a chain of bodies?”

“Like I said, give it to yourself. Have you seen whose legs are walking?”

The chain suddenly stopped. There were no legs. There was no ground. Just clear ebony white.

“What will you take with you?”

Hitode woke up bound to stocks as the spike was ripped out of his chest. Blood sprayed outwards onto the floor.

He flickered in and out of consciousness, before settling on a blurry in-between.

“Good morning, friend.”

There was a man in a suit holding his face, caressing every fold and crease.
“I can’t imagine your discomfort, not having a heart and still having to be alive. It must be like drowning out of water. Here, let me help you.”

He punched the hole in Hitode’s chest All of a sudden, Hitode gasped. He could breathe again. Pain racked his chest as blood began pumping once more. His vision cleared.

The man was now kneeling in front of him..

“Do I look familiar to you?”

Hitode squinted trying to focus his eyes. The man did seem familiar. Although he couldn’t remember anyone who wore nice suits.

“Do you…work at a bank?” he offered, voice still hoarse from the lack of a heart.

The man laughed. “Hold on, let me help you out. I think you’ll recognize me with a worse hairline.”

He pushed his hair back and down, masking it with his fingers.

“Are you a mirror?”

“I’m you, silly! Well…technically you’re me.”

“How…how does that work?”

“I’m so glad you asked.” The stranger with the same face broke the stocks with his bare hands.

“You can just call me the Historian by the way. Just to avoid confusion.”

He was hoisted onto his feet with inhuman strength. “Do you like the heart I gave you? It’s one of my old ones. It’ll give out the moment you try to run.”

As if to prove his point, Hitode tried to leap away, only for his new heart to burst worse than a shaken soda. He collapsed midair, tumbling back onto the bleak ground.

It was from here he began to notice the rest of the room. Tall wooden pillars. Silhouettes of people watching from the sides. A pervasive cold spread throughout his body once more before suddenly being jolted.

“Another new old heart,” said the historian. “I’ll say it clearer because I’m sure you didn’t get it earlier. You are my prisoner. Your heart is my hostage. Now be a good boy and just pay good attention now, alright?”

Hitode nodded

“I’m sure you recognize this place, right? After that trip down memory lane earlier, how couldn’t you?”

Hitode shook his head.

“Let me bring you closer then.” He dragged Hitode deeper into the temple

“I suppose it’s harder for us to remember our births. Dragging all those bits of us into that tunnel was such a hassle and the mold…phew.”

He laid Hitode down on the altar. “But here at the top of the hill, I find it hard to believe you could ever forget this place.”

A sharp pain filled his stomach.

“This was our first death.”

The historian drew his eyes upward to the floating bubble of water hanging just above them. Within it was something small and apelike, swimming about with a strange tail, all the while grasping outside with its clasping fingers.

“Do you remember that day?” asked the Historian. “Because I sure do.”

“When we were small, we had a hard time breathing. Most children like that, if there is no doctor nearby, are put to death as a mercy. Our mother would have thrown us into the ocean had she not had tremendous faith in the gods that were. ”

“Our father came home one day, holding a strange fish heart. He dragged us and our mother all the way to the temple to pray with this offering to the gods.”

“However, there was no god that would reach for the offering. Not fast enough anyway. So our father took it upon his own hands.”

“Using his trusty knife, he gutted us like he was gutting a fish, and with deft hands he replaced our hearts with a demon’s.”

“F-fun story,” choked Hitode, trying his best to sit up.

“It’s just a bit of history I collect. That’s the thing with being immortal I’ve tried to carefully create and curate the world so that things that could last will last. But no matter how much I pinch and prod and prop things up, a terrible thing known as decay takes over.

I have built the rules of the yokai in this city. From a lawless land of monsters to a city of bespoke demons. And yet, I can feel the cracks. I can only hold so much in my hands.
Things weren’t built to last. Well…save for you. The transient child. My vestigial twin. My cancer. You’re the only one fit enough to be my equal and yet… you fail me. I have been watching you for some time now. Ever since we had been split by the Daimajin, you have acted only out of hedonism and a need to survive.

I wanted you to change. I gave you every chance, I gave you every person you could ever need to guide you.”

People began to enter the room one by one: the Daimajin with his naginata, Aka, Ao, Nurarihyon, the Kitsune and finally, Hitomi in a dress for mourning.

“Hitomi!” called out Hitode, “Are you alright?”

She would not meet his eyes.

“We all carefully prepared the scenario”

“Oh no it was plenty real for everyone involved. Which, by the way, bravo. I wanted you to come back to me. And I suppose you’re here now.”

Hitode spat blood in his face.

“Although, I’m sure some things need to be worked out.” said the Historian, wiping his face down with a handkerchief. “Daimajin, please hold him down.”

With four large fingers he stretched out Hitode over the altar.

“The truth is Hitode…you have a choice. Live with me and your memories or be burned to death by Hitomi’s fire. Either way it’s mercy. Plus, I get to see if she really does have the firepower to kill an immortal…or at the very least maim one out of commission.”

“What about my husband? You told me you could bring him back.”

“If the flesh permits, I’m sure we could transmute part of him back so long as the marriage contract is still in place.” said Aka.

“It’s such a shame we’re not able to use Daniel-san for this. He was going to make your fire so powerful. But at least this way, we can get him back.”

Hitode looked pleadingly into Hitomi’s eyes as she stood over him, which themselves were filled with desperation. He thought hard through the gaps in his memory about anything to say or express to make her change her mind, but nothing was coming through.

She had no reason to do anything for him. But then, it wasn’t him she had to do anything for.

“What will you bring with you?”

“I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t come sooner.” said a warm voice.

The entire room was suddenly darkened, long shadows erupting from the floor around them, sprouting into a gnarl of trees. Soon a dense dark jungle surrounded all of them and out of the corner of their eye, the shadow of a horse stalked just beyond the reach of their vision.

The Daimajin was the first to react. He spun his naginata over his head, and slashed horizontally, cleaving through the phantom trees with ease. But as he did, their black sap slowed down his follow through. It wasn’t difficult to remove but it bought them just enough time for Hitomi to cast her spell.

The tips of her hair began to glow a bright red, curling and singing backwards as the heat rose and shimmered through the air. Each of the yokai braced themselves, knowing she only had one shot. All they had to do was block enough of it and strike, then the small human would be dead.

But rather than cast the flame outward, she pushed it down into the shadow below Hitode.

All of a sudden, the heat condensed, filling their bodies with a conflagration that burned with the force of a hundred napalm bombs. It erupted outwards from their bodies in a white hot light, blasting away the trees and whatever was holding the water together.

It all came crashing down, water flowing heavily from the ceiling, like a dam had just been broken.

The water extinguished what remained of her hair and the blood stains on Hitode’s body.

Hitomi helped Hitode to his feet.

“Thank you,” started Hitode. “You don’t look so bad bald.”

“Shut up, I know I look better than you.”

“Sure, whatever. Now how do we get ou-” Hitode was interrupted by a heavy blow to the side of the face.

“I was lucky enough to have left the range of that damn attack.” laughed the Historian. He kicked Hitomi to the opposite side.

“Now who shall I go after–”

Hitode didn’t let him speak. He dropped a powerful heelkick to the top of the Historian’s head, only to be blocked.

“You have to do better than that–” His face was stepped on. Hitode leapt off him, meeting Hitomi on the other side.

“Stop interrupting me!” said the Historian as he rubbed his red nose.

“Climb on,” said Hitode “It’s no coincidence he’s standing there. That’s where the exit is right?

“Yeah, it exits out to the shrine”

“Alright then I just need to-”

His chest suddenly spouted blood.

“Time's up” gloated the Historian. “Told you those tickers were old. Now let’s-”

He was suddenly sprayed in the face with blood.

“I’ve been breaking myself so often.” said Hitode as he dashed through "You think this is going to stop me?”
“Just a little” said the Historian, ripping off a chunk of his ear.

As Hitode landed, the Historian caught up with terrifying speed. He reached out, nearly crushing Hitode’s neck.

Luckily, Hitomi was on his back. It only took a spark to throw his eyes off. And at the speed he was going, that was more than enough.

The Historian crashed into the wall, while the two managed to leap out the gate out into the shrine courtyard.

They waited, breaths heavy.

One second. Two seconds. Three.

“Why isn’t he chasing us?”