Late Night

Yoshio stood by the window, gazing at the koi fish gliding through the pond. Despite the tranquil scene, a weariness weighed heavily on him. The temple was dark, a sign that Makio had not yet returned. A bit disappointed he decided to look into his historical books, looking for the information about the aura.

The library was on the first floor, no dust in sight, even though he did not visit often. The library was immaculate, not a speck of dust in sight—Makio's meticulous work. Yoshio couldn't help but admire the orderliness, a testament to Makio’s dedication. He rarely acknowledged his pupil’s efforts, but today, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps he should.

He scanned the shelves, contemplating where to start. There were numerous books, scrolls, and ancient papers stacked neatly, organized by date of publication. The older texts, some predating him by centuries, were stored without a strict timeline but arranged by topic. Many of these scrolls were written in languages that had long since faded from common knowledge, and deciphering them would be no easy task. He ran his hand over one of the ancient scrolls, feeling the rough texture beneath his fingers.

These books were organized by Makio sometime while Yoshio was in seclusion in the last century, as were all the things in the temple. Ever since he came back the atmosphere and cleanliness were top-tier. Thinking about the past, Yoshio sighed, as Makio was probably very lonely during these years. He never asked Makio what he was up to back then, and maybe he should have. Looking at the scrolls he had to sit down on his knees to look closely at the rows that were lower on the shelves. One book seemed to grab his attention, and he pulled it out carefully.

"Master, you are interested in reading something before bed?" Makio stood in front of the entrance, looking at Yoshio with curiosity.

"Uh, you have returned, Makio..." His gaze settled on Makio’s composed face, as impassive as ever. "I was looking for information on auras, as I mentioned yesterday. I thought I’d start with these older scrolls. I told you yesterday about the aura, I need to look into auras in general, I need to start from the beginning, thus looking into these, " he motioned to the lower shelf, where some ancient scrolls were.

Makio nodded and moved toward the shelves. «I see. There are several texts on general magic, body abilities, and aura-related topics. They might contain the information you need." He pulled a dusty book from a higher shelf and handed it to Yoshio.

Yoshio blew the dust from its cover, carefully opening it. It was indeed about auras and body abilities, but the text was so old that many of the words had faded or been scratched out. He stood there, taking his time looking at one page at a time, trying to make sense of it. He then looked up at Makio,

"I think this is a good start, but much of it is unreadable," Yoshio murmured. "We may need someone who can help translate or has access to similar texts."

Makio looked up, "You don’t mean…"

"Yes," Yoshio replied, grimacing. "We may have to see him."

Neither of them seemed pleased at the prospect

"Master, perhaps we should continue searching here first," Makio suggested, a note of hope in his voice. "Maybe we’ll find something more useful before resorting to... that."

Yoshio gave a small nod. "Very well. Let’s see what else we can find."

They spent hours sifting through ancient tomes and scrolls, uncovering scraps of information but nothing definitive. One book mentioned mages with auras of unusual colors, a tantalizing clue, but it wasn’t enough to draw any conclusions. Thus, they switched to historical books. This did not provide any more information, which left them with a mutual understanding of what had to be done. They had to visit the old librarian, who lived in Kyoto. Makio’s face twisted in displeasure at the thought. Yoshio couldn’t help but smile sadly.

"We’ll go after we handle some business tomorrow."

At this point they were both sitting on the library floor, drinking tea that Makio had just prepared. Exhausted they needed to go to sleep, but could not yet.

"Master, please do let me know what you need me to do."

"Makio," Yoshio said, setting down his cup, "there’s something else I need you to take care of." He pulled a small box from his sleeve and handed it to him.

Makio took the box, his brow furrowing as he opened it. Inside were a few crumpled notes, the scent of foxes unmistakable. His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"These notes were left at that woman’s house by a fox," Yoshio explained. "I need you to visit the fox clan and find out why. They owe me a favor, so remind them if they give you any trouble. Deal with the fox responsible, and make sure they leave her alone. She’s scared enough as it is."

Makio nodded, his expression tightening as he caught the familiar scent.

"Everything alright?" Yoshio looked at him.

"Forgive me, Master, I will do my best in finding this subject. It just stinks of a fox..."

"I am aware you are not a fan of foxes, but the rivalry has long been gone, and you know these ramen foxes were always good yokai anyway."

Makio took a pause, looking meaningfully at the box in his hands, thinking of something he yet was not willing to share. He was not sure yet, anyway.

"Yes, Master," he was quiet, "I am aware of that. These foxes were always nice to us. I think they will help."

"Good. Let's sleep then,»Yoshio replied, rising to his feet." I also have some business to look into tomorrow. I am not sure yet how to approach it, maybe I will need your help with the Internet. But after you come back. You are lucky, I think I will just go to Kyoto by myself, to save some time."

"Master, " Makio looked hesitant, "are you sure you want to see that old man alone? Will you be ok? Last time you got into a physical fight after all..."

"It’s fine," Yoshio interrupted, his tone firm. "This time, I’ll keep my temper in check. The information is more important."

With that, Yoshio left the room, ending the conversation. Makio sat quietly for a moment longer, staring at the notes. He hoped he was wrong about the scent.