Chương 7: Healing

Igor's eyes widened. His grip on the tub's frame strengthened. The man's presence was unmistakable. His hands sprouted a sharp set of claws. His lips split to reveal rows of serrated teeth. The evil grin on his face was something he would never forget.

"I've been looking for you for quite a while, Igor." … |DxD|- Chapter 7- Healing …... The wooden stairs thumped with beneath each step. Dust and faint traces of blood clung to the soles of her feet. Every step reminded her of the very first moment she saw the boy. The amount of blood dripping from him was great cause for concern. But most importantly, it was the energy coming from him. She knew the feeling of a stray devil. Its aura hung off him like the smell of fresh paint.

The conflicting lifeforces from the mix of blood were something phoenix tears could never wash away. She had so many questions and more had only formed during the brief time she has taken care of him. Shuri got off the last step into the hallway and opened the door to the room underneath the stairs. It was very small with only some cleaning supplies and a cabinet. The space was cramped with barely enough room for her to slip through. She shuffled through some cardboard boxes and reached out for an unmarked bottle.

She sniffed it lightly, confirming it was the right one. [This will assist in curbing the worst of the trauma.] She grasped it and slowly squeezed her way out. She closed the door behind her and wiped the trace of sweat. The damp smell of wood and humid air had moistened her skin. She made her way to the stairs, but paused when she heard her daughter's giggles coming from the living room.

"..." Akeno was only nine months old, the boy ten at the most. Even her clan was not barbaric enough to have a child face a stray devil. Those monstrosities were far above what children could handle. Her first thought pointed to the church. They had a base here in Kuoh and this child potentially might be one of them. Perhaps he was an escapee of an experiment? However, she did not maintain that thought. The supernatural world was vast just as it was varied.

Too many races, societies, factions, and pantheons existed and the child might belong to any of them. It could've been a teleportation gone wrong and he crossed the path of the stray. [He possesses no sacred gear nor does he have traces of light or holy energy.] The spear the child had was in essence, completely normal with no inscriptions or energy fluctuations. If anyone were to make a child come in contact with a supernatural entity, a common spear would be too cruel to provide as an armament.

Shuri gave one last look down the hall before continuing her climb upwards. She could only hope her daughter would never endure the same experience. A battle to the death was glorified by the masses, but only few understood what it meant to stare death in the eye. It takes something from you. It always does. And that boy was an example. Her steps matched with the beat of her heart. As a healer, she had seen much during her service to the clan.

Warriors of her clan, especially the young who went on their first deployment would almost always return with changed eyes… if they ever returned at all. She moved up the stairs with purpose and soon reached the top. She made her way towards the bathroom and when she entered, she almost froze. The first thing she heard was the sound of water bubbling. Steam had filled the bathroom so much that she could smell it. The second thing she saw was the boy. He was sitting quietly in the tub with his head lowered.

Shuri sensed something strange from him that she couldn't identify, but she knew he was the source of the heat. Her legs moved before her mind processed everything. His side-profile came into view. His gaze was hollow, a tell-tale sign of dissociation. She grabbed his arm and in that very split moment, she wished she could curse her carelessness. How could she forget? His right arm was his trauma trigger. She felt it far before she saw it. It was a shift in the air.

That strange energy was rapidly gathering in his left hand. His actions appeared slow in her eyes like a choppy film. She let go of his arm to intercept the other. Her hand clamped around his wrist. She tried to safely interrupt the gathering of energy, but it was too late. A small yellow cluster the size of a tennis ball had already formed and her actions caused it to trigger prematurely. Shuri almost couldn't react. The boy's palm was nearly in front of her face.

When she sensed the destabilization, she shifted his hand and moved her face away. It sounded like a short whistle, but the destruction it brought was anything but subtle. From the corner of her eye, Shuri saw the sphere drill into the bricks before losing its structure and exploding like the strike of a sledgehammer. Fragments of tiles and concrete shattered onto the floor. A clean hole just big enough for a child to squeeze through was all that remained.

In the time the sphere exploded, Shuri had placed two fingers to Igor's temple and channeled her spiritual energy into him. Whatever illusion he was in would break and true to her thoughts, clarity slowly returned to his eyes.

"I'm here. I'm here now." She quickly pulled him into a hug before he realised what was happening. It was a fault on her part for leaving him alone even if it was for a moment.

"I won't leave you again." Her arm was hooked around his back while her fingers gently scratched his scalp. Slivers of calming energy slipped from her fingers into him. The destruction shouldn't have been loud enough to startle her daughter so at least for now, she could give him all of her attention. And he needed it. His arms wrapped tightly around her torso like a triggered snare. He made no sound, but the tears he shed spoke of his fear and worry. It grated Shuri to see him like this.

No child should ever, ever be like this, but the supernatural world was rarely fair. In this quiet moment, she promised herself she would care for and protect this child as much as she could.... … |DxD| …... Igor had abnormal senses—at least abnormal for a human child. It was the prognosis Shuri had come to after sitting with the child for the next hour. So far, all she had gotten from him was his name. She'd barely heard him whisper it.

From then on, his replies either came with nods, a shake of the head, or complete silence. He was a timid child and would've been content to sit quietly for days were it not for Akeno. Her daughter took a very quick liking to the blonde. Akeno had always been curious and climbed onto this silent human. Shuri had watched him carefully to ensure he wasn't being overloaded, but he was content to sit there and let Akeno straddle him and play with his hair. Maybe it was because he felt guilt.

Ever since they left the bathroom, he'd kept his hands to himself. That hole in the wall was a glaring reminder of what he'd done. She'd tried to ease him on it, but his silent stubbornness made it difficult for him to accept. She was happy Akeno could get him to calm down, even if it was barely. Support and a warm home would do much to aid his recovery. [Look at her. So peaceful.] If the situation allowed her, Shuri would indeed have smiled. After all that playing, Akeno had fallen asleep on him.

Her little baby was barely the size of his torso. She'd slumped over him with her tiny limbs stretched out like she was hugging a giant teddy bear. Shuri figured Igor was comfortable to sleep on. His body temperature was very warm after all. In the hour leading up to now, she had many thoughts of his origin. Given his high body temperature, she had entertained the thought of him being a werewolf or a hybrid of one. It also wouldn't have been far-fetched if one of his family or ancestors were a yokai.

But each and every one of her conjectures would be phased out by the strange energy she continued to sense on him. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators! She… lacked words to describe it. Even as she watched him with a calm smile, she had not stopped trying to get a read. It was interesting to say the least. It was no conventional energy signature. It was not mana, demonic energy, holy energy, nor light energy. It wasn't quite ki as well.

Maybe it was draconic energy? Perhaps Cleria would know better. [He really is an anomaly.] Igor was a sensor. That much she definitely knew. It was not lost on her how his nose seemed especially more sensitive than the rest. Given his fragile state, there was a chance his trauma would be triggered if he sensed any devil.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Shuri spoke softly so as to not rouse Akeno from sleep. She half-expected him to shake his head, but was surprised to see his eyes were closed. Asleep? How did she not notice. [Just how deep in thought was I?] She glanced at the time. It was just about time for the schools in town to end classes for the day. While she had the time, it was best to prepare dinner. Further musings could come later. She stood up from the couch and lowered the volume from the television.

She glanced at the two children and a small smile formed on her face. If he was comfortable enough to sleep, then she was doing something right.... … |DxD| …... April 18, 1991, Kuoh Town, Japan. Two days had passed since she gained another addition to her life and she was pleased to say Igor had shown tremendous recovery during this time. The major contributor was her little Akeno. The two were as thick as thieves, more so Akeno than Igor. If she was awake, she would seek him out.

Her child did indeed have more selfish reasons to cling onto the blonde. He was a walking heater, like a hot water bottle that never went cold. He was quiet and didn't swat away her hands when she played with his hair or poked his cheeks. Igor was a passive, but very willing participant. His eyes had steadily regained life and just this morning, Shuri swore she saw the barest hint of a smile. More importantly, he no longer had any hallucinations or long periods of dissociation.

Now if only she could just get him to speak. Today was Thursday. She reckoned that by the weekend, Igor would be ready to meet Cleria and her cousin. It did not matter if Diehauser was clan head or not. In Kuoh, she called the shots and unless she gave the green light, no one was going to be "studying" little Igor without her permission. [I should take him for a stroll today. I can do the groceries while we're out.] She glanced behind her at the duo sitting quietly at the dinner table. Well, one was quiet.

Her daughter was babbling and playing with Igor's shirt. They'd just finished eating and her little girl had scrambled right over to him after she was done.

"Akeno really has taken a liking to you." Shuri remarked gently. She didn't expect him to reply, mostly because her daughter had switched to pulling his cheeks like play dough.

"And you, young lady. Stop treating big brother Igor like a toy."

"Hm~?" Akeno stopped momentarily. Her brilliant violet eyes gazed curiously at her mother. She had a finger in her mouth in a cute thinking posture.

"Ig…Iga~!" She bounced on his thigh in a happy celebration.

"Iga~! Iga~! Iga~! Iga~!" It was like a spark of realisation, a eureka moment for the little infant.

"Mama~! Mama Iga~!" She patted his chest with her tiny palms, her excited chanting continuing endlessly like she'd just made a world-shattering discovery.

"Yes, my baby girl. Can you say 'big brother Igor'?"

"Iga~!" Shuri leaned over and rubbed her head.

"Fufufu~. In time, you'll be able to." … |DxD| …... Two days earlier…. Five years. He had spent five years alone. From the moment he was five until now, the only solace he had was the sound of falling ash and his spear cutting through the air. Sweat dripping on the ground and his muscle spasms were his proof that he was alive and breathing. In that fight with that beast, he struck with decisiveness and the very ruthlessness he was taught to use.

He ignored all thoughts and gave it all he had, yet he almost died just the same. He believed he would bleed to death in that forest. His vision had gone dark and he couldn't feel anything. Sometimes he would… still, get flashes of that moment. When he first awoke, he'd lost much of himself. The nightmares, the visions, the voice… it wouldn't end. He'd lost all sense of reality. His eyes were useless for all he'd see were shadows and dark figures of the man. Sometimes he'd see his eyes behind the corners.

His taunts were never-ending. Sometimes the man would scream at him. Sometimes he'd make promises… promises of finishing what he'd started. In those moments, Igor did not know what he would've done to himself if not for her. He did not know her name, did not remember her face, but her voice was like a guiding light, giving direction to him who was lost in an endless fog. Her smell was a ward that kept the voices away, his anchor to reality. Parts of his memory were missing. No, not missing. Forgotten.

His sense of time, hunger, and feeling had been numbed. Her presence was a bandage to his wound. She kept all the bad things away by just being there. Being in her presence in silence was enough for him, but sometimes, she'd talk to him. He would try to respond, but his mouth wouldn't move. Sometimes, he barely heard her words. It was like he was at the bottom of a well and she was whispering from the top. The most he heard from her were echoes he had to piece together. Even so, he was recovering.

Her voice was getting clearer and the shadows were shrinking. His vision would sometimes return with extreme clarity, but it was often misty. But his sense of smell? It had gotten better. It took some getting used to, but he could smell different things, smell when he walked into a different room. The different scents and hazy colours would briefly stall him, but as the hours bled into days, it got better.

In a brief moment of clarity, a moment where he felt like he saw outside the well, he saw a child far younger than him. She clutched the TV remote between her tiny hands and was immensely focused on it. Her scent was not something he could describe, but she smelled very similar to the woman and just like her, there was a thin hazy film of energy around her. His vision blurred just as quickly as it came along with his sense of self. The world turned hazy like he was falling into a deep sleep.

He didn't know the next time he 'awoke'. It could've been hours, days, maybe even weeks. He was seated on a couch with the feeling of something heavy on his lap. It was a coarseness that kept rubbing on him and there was also the feel of something lightly hitting his chest. It was the smell that came to him first. It was the same milky smell that came from the baby he saw. Then it was the haze of energy. The misty figure in front of him would lower her head against his chest before sitting up again.

Was she looking at him? He wasn't sure. He wanted to ask if something was wrong, but his tongue was a solid block. Her words… were they words? They didn't sound like anything he could understand. It was more like random syllables randomly lumped together, similar to indiscriminate babbling. Time would pass and there were moments where he would vaguely feel his cheeks were being kneaded or his finger being pulled. By coincidence, it was those moments when he would have some semblance of consciousness.

There would be the scent of food lingering in the air and he'd find himself in the kitchen. Sometimes he'd be upstairs with the child in his arms pounding his chest like a drum. Why was he carrying her? And was 'she' not worried? After all, he almost… For most of the time time when he was 'trapped' in the well, the thoughts that came to him often was how he attacked her. That moment was something he retained with immense clarity, a moment that wasn't dulled or watered down.

Words could not begin to express the regret he felt. But accompanying that regret were the words she said.

'You are a child who made a mistake. You do not need to apologize.' A child? Could he still be considered a child? That question had stayed with him until the next time he regained awareness. In a trick of the light, the greasy plate in front of him had turned into an empty bowl of food. The baby on his lap wore a pink onesie instead of just being in diapers. Was it the next day? The periods between awareness were growing longer. He did not remember when or where he slept. He did not remember even eating.

But one thing stood out to him. Peace. A strong sense of peace had slowly started to envelop him. When was the last time he heard the voice? He couldn't recall when he'd last seen moving shadows. His world was like a dream he drifted through, as if he was finally resting. He was both sleepy and wide awake, a serene feeling that had only come after that moment in the bath. Previously, he was afraid. That beast had become a ghost that haunted him, but it never attacked when this woman was here. And…

she was stronger than it. It was a gut-feeling that he was all-the-more willing to listen to after she easily dodged his attack. As long as she was here, then it was fine, right? He could sleep just a tiny bit. If he willingly closed his eyes, that monster wouldn't come. And so once more, time passed without his awareness. The deep sleep he entered was a rest for his mind and soul. The energy within his body flowed alongside his blood, slowly strengthening everything within like a metamorphosis.

When the second day came, he was back at the dinner table. This was the third time he had regained his faculties in the same place. This time, he could finally see. The first thing to pierce his eyes was the sunlight coming through the window. The curtains were open, leaving a clear view of the pristine lawn and the beginnings of the forest behind the fence. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, yet that seemingly triggered a response from the infant on his lap.

"Gah~!" Two tiny hands grabbed his shirt and began pulling. He looked down and the smell of porridge hit his nose. The passenger straddling his thigh was the very child who'd been accompanying him every moment of his awakening. Thinking about it silently, he couldn't recall a single moment where she was not there. Admittedly, there were a lot of moments he was missing, but every brief moment the dream-like state ended, he would always smell her first. Now however, he could see her. She was… innocent.

The first moment he truly laid eyes on her, he was enraptured. It was not her appearance, but how she felt. He lacked the words to describe the feeling. Pure… that was the feeling he got. She was untainted like a wonder of nature yet to be discovered.

"Akeno really has taken a liking to you." He looked up and saw the woman smiling at him with gleaming amber eyes. She wore a long purple floral dress and looked just like her daughter.

"And you, young lady. Stop treating big brother Igor like a toy."... Silence… The world ceased to exist. His eyes grew unfocused and his body turned stiff. His eyes functioned, but he could not see for he was completely shocked. The words came suddenly, but he was sure he hadn't heard wrongly. But could he…was he worthy?

"Iga~!" A single word cracked through his head like a thunderstrike.

"Iga~! Iga~! Iga~! Iga~! Iga~!" He was pulled from his gaze by Akeno rocking herself on his thighs. She sprayed spittles of saliva from her happy chanting. But that paled to her saying his name. Mixed feelings welled up in him like a dam. He was so lost for words his mouth remained open. He barely noticed when the woman bent over and pulled him in a hug.

"It's alright, Igor. Akeno and I will always be here for you."

"... a-always?" A choked sob escaped him. He hadn't realised he was crying.

"Yes. Always. And this will always be your home." Home…when was the last time he heard that word? He couldn't remember. Everything felt like a dream, yet the warmth enveloping him was very real. He could feel it, embrace it and maybe, just maybe…cherish it.

"Home…". AN: Who thought it was a good idea to chop onions?.

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