Chương 86: Book 1, Chapter 86: Shards of Broken Memories

Time was a curious thing. An age could feel like it passed between blinks, but a moment could be a torturous eternity, chaining you to a vile instant. Yuki watched the light from her sister's eyes in a time best measured by the heartbeats of mice. This was all her fault, and she was going to fix it, no matter the cost. It was foolishness on her part to assume that Kiku wouldn't do anything to avoid a cage, given the many centuries of memories of crushing stones and impalement.

A moment of carelessness was all it took. Yuki saw John tumble, numbly falling as his legs were cut out from under him with all the care of a farmer reaping their crops. Even then, his first thoughts had been of her, begging her to do what he thought was best for her. Even if he was being truthful about creating substitutes, the thought of leaving him to suffer on wooden legs was anathema.

Yuki couldn't imagine looking him in the eyes while knowing that she could have reattached his limbs and chose not to for such a childish reason as delaying the inevitable. Kiku's gaze clouded as she let out one last, shuddering breath that sounded almost a laugh, and her soul started to destabilize, slipping through Yuki's fingers. Here it— There was no transition. One moment, she was in her own soul's realm, and the next, she was in a vast expanse of emptiness. Shapeless, unformed.

To say it was dark would be inaccurate, for it would have implied an alternative.

"Kiku," Yuki growled.

"Let's not waste time. Some of us have things to do."

"Oh? Are you in such a hurry to get back to your little pet?" Kiku cooed, crawling out of non-existence like a feral beast before twisting around, rising unnaturally upright without using her arms at all. It seemed the process had already begun. The image of her, this representation of her soul, was already fraying around the edges. One of her eyes was slightly misplaced, and the individual strands of fur on her left tail were beginning to unravel into memory and power, drifting away in erratic un-directions.

"You know it's not like that," Yuki responded, golden eyes narrowing as she glared at her dead sister. For a moment, she considered biting Kiku's throat out and continuing the merge, but her sister was clearly trying to bait her. She probably was shifting some of her most unpleasant, poisonous memories there in anticipation of such an obvious attack.

"You're right. He's more like a beloved tool. Give him a task, and he works and works and works, doesn't he?" Kiku mused. You don't even have to tell him to overwork himself. It probably saves you from feeling that bad about it." She was done entertaining this farce, plot be damned. Yuki blurred towards her sister, razor-sharp claws reaching towards her vulnerable, pale-furred throat. Kiku looked like she attempted to dodge, but her movements were just a bit too slow, too sloppy.

Besides, were she truly trying to protect her neck, Kiku would have thrown up her arms as buffers. At the last moment, Yuki dropped low, baring her fangs before sinking them into Kiku's side, digging up through her abdomen and into her liver before devouring messy, bloody chunks of it. She was pulled along by her hand, Takauji's grip tight around her own as they hurried through the stone-leafed trees of the Inverted Forest.

She fearfully glanced at the trunks as eyes gazed out at her from between the wood grains, countless nascent spirits letting out annoyed rattles at their presence.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, big bro?" she squeaked out to the other kitsune.

"Pfft. You a big girl or not, sis?" Takauji smarmed, blue eyes meeting hers as he looked over his shoulder with a lazy grin.

"They wouldn't dare cross anyone who smells like Father. Besides, we're almost there… Don't tell me you're going to chicken out now? Aww, has my sister developed a mortal's heart?" Her cheeks puffed up big and red.

"Nuh-uh!" she shot back. What did he know? He was only four years older than her, but she actually grew up in the mind rather than just in the body.

"You're stupid like a mortal! Duuuuuh, look at me, I'm going to go swim across the ocean 'cause I only live for like ten years!" The big dummy laughed.

"Oooh, that got you, didn't it!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!" She heroically pounced at him, sending them tumbling down a slope as they battled for victory. Although he ended up on top, she kicked him off and… wow. She saw where the river curled into the sky, glowing waters shimmering with colours that had no name as they flowed up to splash against the dome of the sky— The memory cut out as the insides of her sister swirled beyond recognition into new, impossible shapes, cutting off the only fading memory of a brother Yuki didn't know she had.

Kiku lightly drummed her fingers against John's cheek, smiling as his mind flickered under her grip. The poor soul was hurting, bearing far more weight than anyone should bear. Was her sister keeping him like this on purpose, perhaps, to make him easier to control?

"My apologies, you sweet little thing," she cooed.

"Call me Kiku. I'm one of Yuki's darling sisters." She paused before laughing at the sheer callousness of bringing such a fragile heart out to slay a monster when he should focus on healing.

"Although, are we really sisters when we were the same kitsune once?" she mused, fingers idly drumming against his cheek.

"There are many things Yuki neglected to tell you." The Nameless should keep her sister busy for long enough for her to give this poor soul a new purpose and home. Yuki recoiled and attempted to spit the memory out like poison, the sheer, twisted care slamming into her mind like a crossbow bolt. Yet, it was too late. It was part of her now, sliding right into her soul alongside the memories of the original kitsune's—no, her childhood. She was a bit cruel to drag such a hurting man out there, wasn't she?

A fist slammed into the top of Yuki's head, dislodging her from the open wound and making her head spin. It did little more than stun her, but it bought Kiku a moment to reposition. Looking up, Yuki saw that Kiku was unravelling, the edges between her and the ever-present nothingness slowly going soft, fading. She was more of a gradient than a true being now, and although the wound where Yuki had torn her liver had 'healed', it was messy and faded, like a dream in the moments before waking.

Kiku bit off one of her own fingers, tearing through her flesh and bone alike with a mighty crunch, before lunging, trying to shove it into Yuki's muzzle in a frantic frenzy, but she expected the move. Smacking the hand to the side and sending the finger careening off into nowhere, Yuki scooped out a portion of her sister's thigh and braced herself as she bit deep. The spears pierced almost every part of her body as the anchors dug into her spirit.

Magically enhanced stone pressed her flat as the mountain fought to crush her spirit along with her body. Gathering the strength to writhe, she felt her prison shift, groaning ominously as it shook with her desperation. Yet, it held. She couldn't move. She could hardly think. How long had it been? Days? Centuries? Time lost all meaning. Surely her friends would be here for her soon. They had to be working on getting free; they had to be. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author.

Report any sightings. They couldn't have given up. Yuki gasped as she bit into the imprisonment, the weight almost too much to bear as the flesh between her fangs became abstract. It was too much, too fast. Yokai or not, her mind was not meant to process mortal lifetimes in moments. Yet, she went back for more regardless, eating past the poison. She acted as a heavenly executioner, her face a mask of indifference even as rage roiled in her chest.

"And the sentence is death," she told the man who had committed the simple crime of stealing medicine for his sick boy. Why did he have to get caught? The fool just had to tell his friends about his daring plot to steal from the procession of a visiting dragon. To the borderline deity, it might have been a glorified throat lozenge.

"You yokai are all the same," Makino Sadaaki spat, struggling against his bindings, even as he glared up at her. He dared not mention his son, lest the court's wrath turn against the beneficiary of this little plan next. If only she could tell the man that his son was recovering just fine, and Makino Ryuta would see his third summer after all. Looming over him, she fanned her six tails wide.

It was terribly tempting to free him and strike down all the other observers; the dragon himself was far too 'busy' to attend the execution of the father he'd condemned. It would have been a simple matter to relocate the man to the far end of the continent. Yet, she would be branded nogitsune, and her strength would be limited to that of a six-tailed kitsune until she 'repented' in the eyes of heaven.

She wished she could tell him that she was sorry, but she knew she could save far more lives once she bore a full nine. The kitsune reduced him to a fading memory with a tilt of her head. She would make sure that his family received compensation, disguising the source as the inheritance of some distant aunt none of them had heard of. It would be a shame for them to starve. Turning away, she saw the satisfied faces of all the attendants and made a note to find the names of every single one.

She only had to endure a few more centuries. Yuki hissed as years flooded through her mind, stumbling back. How dare they? It was like a knife to the heart as she remembered years and years where she was forced to put on a false mask, to aid a system that was slowly strangling the world. Was it worth it if she didn't manage to break everyone free in the end? Could she have been kinder when she had the chance?

Yuki choked as a finger was forced into her mouth as she was forced back to the present, breaking from her reverie. Reflexively, she bit down and was plunged into memory once more. She parried the star-blade of the older kitsune with her staff, idly waving her hand to the side and reducing a battalion threatening to flank her army to dust.

All around them, the battle raged, but none risked getting too close to the duel of the near-deities, the sheer weight of their clashing souls alone threatening to unmake any interlopers in their sacred conflict.

"You're not bad, elder," she mused, feinting a strike against his side, forcing him to dodge, before smashing through his Aegis and crushing one of his knees with a flick of her tail.

"I will honour you with a quick death." He knelt before her, trying to force himself up before growling and spitting blood. It splashed against her clothes before rolling off, failing to stain the celestial silk. She raised a claw, and— A blade forged from a piece of the sky punched straight through her chest! WHO dared? There was nobody behind her, but… her own lines. She turned back towards her army, ignoring the pain as she searched— The memory ended. There had to be more. She had to know who it was!

That was the battle, the one where she was imprisoned! No, no, if someone betrayed her, she'd know. The kitsune had spent so many years alone in the dark; she must have spent at least some time ruminating on it. She should have known. Yuki pushed the idea of her sister over with a devastating shoulder check, tearing open her hollow rib cage, muzzle slick with gore. Centuries passed.

"You and I both know…" Or was it seconds? She laid on the rock, soaking up the warmth from the distant fires burning overhead. This was far too much to absorb consciously, yet it slotted in her mind all the same. She picked out a bangle at the market stall, paying far more than it was worth. How much of this was from Kiku, and how much used to belong, and how much was from her already deceased sisters?

"I'm sorry," she growled, bristling before the oni brought its club down upon her back. Ages flew past as Yuki assimilated more and more of her sister in a frenzy, drunk on memory. The ending continued to slip through her grasp. It had to be here, unless… had one of her sisters already taken it? She would find them, and they would tell her. Kiku stared up at Yuki, not with hate, but a curious admiration, even as she felt her strength wane.

With every moment, blood gushed from her middle, and intestines splayed out like a spider's web. Her well of magic had nearly run dry with the Nameless' death, and she lacked the means to resist imprisonment. Other than one, of course. Kiku looked at her own severed limb resting behind John, and thought it poetic as she sharpened the bone into a blade, twisting the muscles into thick coils, compressed and ready to propel her last attack at a moment's notice. … Perhaps she would leave her a gift.

Maiming her sister's friend would doubtlessly cause Yuki to murder her in a rage, but he didn't deserve to spend the rest of his days without a limb or two. Watch carefully, Yuki. Using what little of her strength remained, Kiku slowly severed and reknit the muscles and bones in her arm. Again, and again. Kiku focused on how it felt, deliberately thinking through every step she might have subconsciously performed under ordinary circumstances. Then, the blade flew, and John toppled.

The kitsune gasped as she was once more standing upon the surface of a lake beneath both day and night, staring at the cooling corpse of her sister even as it began to fade into nothing. She was both the victim and the murderer, staring at her own corpse. Part of her hated herself. Another knew it had to be this way. A third wondered what the rest of her sisters saw. Standing back up, the kitsune stared down at her blood-slicked hands. The difference was apparent.

Although her colours had not truly shifted, the black and grey fur that poked up through the liquid screamed that it was more real than she had been before, a thing closer to the source of all existence.

"Yuki?" a weak voice asked her, an uneasy rattle rising from his lungs. It was a good question. How much of her was still Yuki? Turning away from her—Kiku's corpse, she rose to face John. Her heart stirred as she stared at his prone, broken form. Shadows still cradled the stumps of his legs, stemming the bleeding as she instinctively walked forward. His breath hitched, and his heart beat faster. Something in her chest ached.

"I'm here, John," she whispered, kneeling in front of him, reaching out to cradle the side of his face on instinct, hand shaking unsteadily. A soft palm drifted up to meet her, holding her hand against his smooth skin, stilling it.

"You scared the hell out of me, you know that?" John's voice was strained, and she feared it wasn't from his injuries, but his heart.

"I wasn't lying when I said I could have made prosthetics."

"I couldn't have asked you to do that," she replied, a sad smile gracing her face. John lunged the best he could, wrapping his arms around her back in a tight hug as tears formed at the edge of his eyes.

"Yuki, I… was worried about you, okay?" he quietly sobbed, burying his face against her neck as she stooped, arms slipping around his back in turn. As she rested her chin upon his head, her eyes began to glisten even as her tails scooped up his errant limbs, positioning them against his stumps. It seemed like she was still Yuki enough for him, and that was good enough for her.

"I was worried about you, too," she whispered back, voice faint enough to be mistaken for the breeze. Yuki banished the shadows and pressed the severed limbs against his wounds, making John gasp as she went to work. Knitting flesh and bone together with borrowed, almost instinctive ease, she followed Kiku's instructions to the letter. But she could do more than that, couldn't she?

Yuki reached out, drawing on her now-expanded reserves with ease, letting her warmth wash over him, letting her care surround him as she unwound the damage to his muscles and skin, scouring the burns from existence. Yet, the damage went deeper. She felt the leftover hairline fractures in his bones from years of abuse and unmade them, too. She unfused the skin from the metal of his gauntlet. A prior break in his left arm that never healed properly was smoothed. It was the least she could do.

"There. How do you feel?" she asked, reluctantly breaking their hug, leaving his hands grasping at air for but a moment. Hesitantly, John, now whole once more, flexed his fingers, eyes lingering on his now intact skin with a faint smile.

"Better," he responded, voice holding a bit stronger now.

"But I think you have one last thing to do before we can go back to the fort… back home, I mean." Yuki nodded, looking at the piles of corpses just beyond the edge of her Transcendent Alchemy, the realm's oppressive presence held back only by her sheer power. Distantly, she could sense Rin and Yosuke watching them from somewhere nearby. She let them and noted their position to avoid accidentally annihilating them. Then, Yuki breathed out, her soul flaring brightly, and the horrors around them crumpled, overwritten.