Why Are We So Tired?

“H-hey Xion! Where are you going man?”

Though he wanted to answer his best friend, Xion couldn’t stomach the act of turning around. Seeing Kazue in his state would only bring him more grief, how could he not understand that?

There was a cruel scent in the atmosphere already, having been unable to properly take in Saeko’s sudden absence, but that somehow was just the beginning.

A crowd full of people that hadn’t cared about anything other than blood and chanting.

The rampage of a brute known as Tsunami, willing to cut down anyone.

Then the arrival of the cloaked figure, seemingly the higher power behind it all.

It was far too much for any normal human being to take in lightly, and yet Xion couldn’t just remain silent. He needed to say something, as if it would be the single most important thing ever said from his lips. Not to calm Buff, or make Kazue smile, but to reassure himself.

“We’ll all come back stronger from this for Saeko…” was what he decided on. Although it was spoken nervously, without looking back, Xion at least felt confident in what he said.

Akuma and Xion remained until Daimyo Donburi arrived, as Akuma claimed he would. Everyone was quiet.

Donburi came from the stands, walking down all the way until the first row nearest to the field. Half of his butterscotch-toned face was covered up by a hood, but what could be seen were his eyes, or where they were supposed to be, covered in black tape in the shape of X’s. Across the bridge of his nose were glowing magenta lines, and his mouth was obscured by a simple medical mask. Underneath that was a gold chain that held up a rice bowl symbol. Donburi wore a sleeveless vest, along with long white pants, and big pink boots.

As he leapt down over the guardrail, his hood came up momentarily to reveal his long braided dreads. He landed right next to Akuma. The Daimyo of Kanto had arrived.

“Did your best kid,” Donburi said as he gently punched Akuma’s shoulder.

“I don’t want your pity,” she said back, distancing herself from him. “Will you be able to handle those three?”

“O’course. Go then, talk soon,” Donburi said back, holding up a peace sign with his fingers.

Before Xion could join Akuma as she’d begun to walk away, Donburi pulled him aside.

“Fur Ball, listen to her real good, ‘kay?”

Xion nodded once, then rejoined Akuma. Why wouldn’t he listen?

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“DJ!” Buff shouted as Kazue helped him up to his feet.

Donburi approached the struggling man.

Buff punched his face with the strength he had remaining, causing one of the lines across his nose to darken.

“WOAH! What the hell man?!” Kazue yelled, trying to pull Buff backwards.

“Nah, it's cool. Well deserved,” Donburi said calmly. “Had business, brother. You know I traveled fast.”

As if the appearance of another Daimyo wasn’t shocking enough, Kazue realized this was Buff’s brother.

“An innocent girl died right in front of me,” Buff said softly. “I couldn’t do anything about it…”

“Saeko Nagata…” Donburi murmured, kneeling down in front of him.

“She had a beautiful smile…” Buff said as he gripped his punching hand tightly.

“Beautiful name too. I’ll write a good song.”

“Don’t bother. She won’t hear it,” Buff said simply.

“Then tell me about hairdo there,” Donburi then asked, pointing to Zenshi who had been sitting on the ground away from them.

“Well Zenshi tried to beat the crap out of me,” Kazue then said. “Of course it was for the competition to become an heir. Maybe not on the surface, but beneath all that hair is a conflicted person, because-”

“That guy forced himself along with us by holding Xion and Saeko hostage at the hovertrain station. Claimed he was a Mizuno for this festival, which isn’t true,” Buff added interrupted Kazue.

“But he did try to hold back Tsunami with me when we both grabbed onto his leg,” Kazue said.

Donburi rubbed his chin.

“You sure he wasn’t just trying to hurt you, Kazue?” Buff said.

“I’d know. We punched each other back and forward forever before that.”

Buff and Kazue watched as Donburi left, and approached Zenshi.

“Yo,” Donburi said quietly. He sat down cross legged across from Zenshi, giving some space.

“You wanna come to some place safe?”

Zenshi gave no reply.

“Ah. Maybe this is that place,” Donburi pondered out loud.

Zenshi spoke up.

“It used to be for me. I thought that my purpose would be fulfilled here, and yet now I’m…unsatisfied?” “If I go with you, would you help me find reasons to believe that I’m not a monster?”

“Not all Daimyos breathe wisdom,” Donburi smiled beneath his mask. “You know that’s your quest alone.”

“When I hurt people, I get excited, and yet when I saw that girl die, I cried.”

Zenshi looked up to meet Donburi, and brushed his hair up, revealing his face to Donburi. This was obscured by Donburi to Kazue and Tuff Buff.

“Just what am I?”

Donburi leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against Zenshi’s.

“A wandering revenant that doesn’t want to die again,” Donburi told him

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Akuma took them to a motorcycle parked in an alleyway. It was tinted in all black, and as she approached it, the frame extended, allowing more room for passengers, and also revealing a compartment. She removed her scarf and mask, placing them here, and sealing it back.

Riding with a well known mask, even if fractured, would raise a lot of eyebrows.

She hopped on in one effortless motion, and started up the engine with a button push. Xion joined her from behind.

“We’re going to be traveling fast. I’d advise you to hold on,” she said calmly, and pulled out of the alley.

The bike reached a highway, and violently increased in speed, leading Xion to hug around her. It was the first time in forever he’d felt his hair flow the way it did.

Colors he’d seen on the way here were brighter in the night, and were even different than before as they blended together in the speed at which they traveled. Bright balls of light became quick brief rays.

Cars, trucks, and bikes of all sizes nearly appeared as stationary structures.

Xion glanced over her shoulder, observing the speed gauge drift just beyond 135mph. In a few minutes, it would reach just under 200mph, with intentions to go further.

“Speak up!” Akuma yelled back, startling him.

“I haven’t said anything!” Xion yelled back.

“No, but you’re thinking a lot, aren’t you? We’ve quite a distance to travel before reaching our destination, so by all means, speak your curiosities!”

Immediately he asked the first thing that came to his mind.

“Where is Daimyo Kitsune?”

“Away.”

“Doing what?”

“My master lives, if that answers future questions.”

Xion had never assumed he was dead.

“Is Shinobi the Daimyo of Hokuriku?”

“Yes.”

“What is his power?”

“Nobody knows.”

That was concerning, but also a confirmation Daimyos had powers, if that wasn’t obvious enough by Tsunami’s display.

“Can you explain the process behind these powers?” Xion asked, hoping for a detailed explanation.

Akuma remained silent.

“Grab the reins!”

In an instant, she vanished from around his grip, leaving a burning sensation around his arms. The motorcycle continued on its course forward into the empty road ahead.

Xion quickly scrambled forward, placing his hands onto the handlebars.

Akuma rejoined him from behind, this time holding her arms around him.

“The bike is programmed to drive itself, rest assured,” she said without urgency.

“That doesn’t explain my question!” he yelled back, annoyed she’d do something so suddenly.

“I don’t expect it to. However, I wanted to lean back, so I switched seats. We’ll remain quiet the rest of the way.”

Akuma said this, stretching as far back as she could, and resting her head against a small cushion.

The remainder of the drive was quiet as suggested.

The motorcycle arrived back in Kansai, as indicated by upcoming billboards that were large enough to be seen from miles away.

It took them down several branching paths, increasingly more deserted with each path bearing less and less traffic, lighting, and establishments around. The headlights soon even revealed dirt as they drifted off road.

Then they stopped just outside a forest.

A smiley face appeared on the dashboard of the motorcycle, waving.

“This is Mount Yoshino. Have you been here?” Akuma asked, still seated.

“I’ve come several times with my family when I was younger. I’m sure we traveled every route at least once and saw every cherry blossom it has to offer,” Xion said as he removed himself.

“Tonight, I’ll be showing you Route Inari.”

She walked further ahead into the darkness, so far that Xion lost sight of her.

A small flame then flickered once, then again further ahead.

He ran to it each time, and though he trailed, he was always within close enough distance to see where it was each time. Sometimes up and down hills. Each time he could see tiny eyes looking at him throughout the area.

It was absurd chasing after something in the dark as the cooler winds began to blow around him, shaking the many trees present. The summer was coming to an end, and soon autumn would follow.

Xion must’ve been running for ten minutes when he realized he was panting for breath.

The next flicker was the last. Once he had arrived next to it, the recurring light didn’t appear anywhere else, and instead occasionally sparked in a stationary spot.

“Akuma?” Xion said.

It shined again.

Xion put his hands around where it seemed to reoccur, leaving a tingling. He closed around it like you would capture a firefly, amazed as the area suddenly lit up.

Torches glowed with dancing flames, and a large hot spring with blue water bubbling. Around it there were several foxes playing around and chasing after each other, while others watched Xion with interest.

Contrary to nature, the hot spring contained a small blue capsule that had neatly blended it with the pool of water surrounding it, and it would have stayed concealed had it not opened.

Three swords also were stuck in the ground around him.

“The first trial of Inari is a year of deprivation.”

Xion turned to see Akuma standing behind him. Though he had seen her twice without her mask, the feeling still was uncanny.

“You may have heard of sensory deprivation tanks. This one is no different, aside from the prestige it carries and technique used. Every Daimyo and heir that Kansai has raised has once bathed in that capsule.”

“The spring around it is filled with fresh water, while the insides contain salt. It will swallow you whole, eliminating noise, concealing your touch, and descend beneath the waters where you will be in the closest state to a lucid feeling as possible. There, you will say your goodbyes.”

The first sword suddenly was engulfed in flames, startling Xion.

“Goodbye to dreams. You forfeit them to the next in line, your future heir, and they shall carry all yours. Sleep shall become but an afterthought, gone within the blink of an eye.”

The second sword joined the first in a state of fire.

“Goodbye to senses. You become numb to the burden of emotions, the pain of injury, and the joy from food and drink.”

The third sword glowed the brightest of them all.

“Goodbye to the old blood. You will no longer be bound to those before you, and instead join the family of Inari. Though you may remember your past name, Xion Mizuno shall depart you.”

Xion’s eyes danced with each motion the fire around him made.

Would this truly bring him the power to defeat those that had wronged him?

To return to his mother, whenever that might be, and to be unrelated by blood.

Was it worth casting aside all senses?

He passed through the swords, feeling his body heat even more so than it had already.

Akuma took ahold of his wrist, cutting his palm with the tanto dagger she had cut his hair with, allowing blood to drip. 

It stung.

"Remove what remains of Xion Mizuno. I shall return in the morning." She turned to walk away.

Removing his clothes, he did as instructed, and dipped himself into the pod that would hold him as it had many others.

The water was freezing, and yet he couldn’t care any less.

No longer would he need to be protected.

Nor would he watch his friends be threatened, idly standing by.

The cloaked man and all those that joined him would pay.

Xiomazu would make sure of that. A new name that would be as remembered as Akuma.

The capsule drowned beneath the waters, hidden from view.

“Sayonara, Xion Mizuno,” he said to himself.