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kit-williams · 10 months ago

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Anrir Husbandry

Husbandry tags: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @the-raven-lady

@bispecsual

Edit: forgot to thank @justahuman1757 for help with some of the translations and other help

Song on repeat: Cradles by Sub Urban (also most of the remixes for this SLAP)

tw: smut, yandere, obsessive behavior, manipulation

Anrir cooed at the little human in his arms finishing up singing them back to sleep знішчыць.... знішчыць... His voice carried low and softly. It was naptime... they needed to sleep as it was good for them of course they didn't seem to realize that. His long back hair was tied back into a slightly messy bun as his nearly completely black eyes dart around the pastel colored room just looking for anything wrong. His Dragă wanted to work with children in childcare and perhaps it took a couple of years to get here since he had first found her.

She was so much happier since he had first found her... happy about their bond... no more worry in her eyes... no more stress making her hands tremble or her loosing sleep... no more worrying about her next meal or if her car were to break... no more crying... well no more senseless crying. He puts the child down looking around at the sleeping forms but he cant help but grin as this really was all possible because of him, Anrir purrs softly at the satisfaction of how well he has done his job... and how he has covered his trail...

5 years prior

Anrir was a drifter... he drifted around as he had yet to find his own bonded, which given how some legions seemed to be more inclined to get a bond; with Night Lords being one of the ones with very few "feral" Astartes it was only a matter of time before Anrir would find his. But Anrir in all definitions was a feral Astartes having been unbonded since he arrived forty years ago. However, it was fine as Anrir hadn't spent that time just moping about he spent a majority of his time politicking and reuniting with other Terran Night Lords long dead and of course reuniting with those who were under his knife when they were aspirants and scouts which he affectionately called them his kids.

He was also using this time to take a break, a forced break, from running his warband; not that he could run it right now anyway. But he would mull over plans for when he returned back to his time period... if he did was another thought. His eyes moved up to the sky as he could smell the water gathering in the air. Which meant that the group he was with would start a debate on if they were going to settle down or continue on despite the weather. He did not care too much and decided to wander off to look around at where they were.

He walked out of the tree covering that the group was skulking through as he looked at the abandoned parking lot he had walked out into. It was rotting away neglected and abandoned as the painted lines were faded and practically gone, the pavement was cracked with plants growing through cracks; with the asphalt under his feet turning to gravel as plants come to reclaim this section of human infrastructure. And Anrir... he savored this reclamation of nature and decay of it all. Compared to the prison pit he was born into on the other side of the globe; he had already made his pilgrimage to the eventual site of his birth... a town full of people whose existence was never known as a great chasm of the guilty was there.

But that dark pit in the ground was not there now... there were no babies being born in that dark hellhole... his neck tattoo had a phantom itch as he is reminded why it was put on his neck... as he is reminded that at some point he was truly innocent... he is reminded of the hand gently petting his head... the soft voice cooing at him telling him how brave he was being... as he remembers having tears in his eyes as the ink is shoved into his skin... he gently starts to suffocate the memories of a child long gone and a woman paradoxically long dead and yet had yet to be born. His eyes flick to the far side of the quiet parking lot as a car just sits in the dark. The only other thing in this lot, far from the flickering road light... he could hear the annoying buzz of the light as it flickered... the flick... flick... flick... as it finally goes out. He moves with soft steps towards the vehicle as the summer insects scream their sonorous songs it was almost overstimulating for some of his brothers with how alive this planet felt with no foe to focus down on. Anrir felt his gums itch like he craved an oral inhalant and the way the hair on the back of his neck rose as he wandered closer not giving into the craving.

Anrir had seen many homeless humans both back in his own time and here. His eyes looked through the windows of the car seeing how it was lived in, he could hear the soft breathing akin to how someone was asleep... the slow beat of a heart was barely audible to him as the insects continued to scream their songs. There was nothing special about what he saw as it was a baseline female just buried under an assortment of clothes, a towel, a jacket, and some blanket... a bucket with a strainer lid to collect the impending rain... he chuckled at the cleverness but he understood the need to just survive. He turned to walk back to the others but something rooted him in place. He could practically taste the misery mixing with the rain. His throat tightened as it silently moved in foreign ways but he knew what he was trying to do... to mimic the noises they make at humans.

He lets out a dark chuckle as they were right... it really was something that he would know when it happened. Worry soon festered in his gut as his eyes roamed over her vehicle and while he hardly knew about how it worked he could see the signs of disrepair. His nose wrinkled for a moment as he unclipped his helmet from his hip, slipping it over his head as the rain finally let loose. He listened to the rain slap against the metal roof of the car, the way she moved inside her comfortable cocoon for a moment, and the way water was gathering in the bucket... Anrir had to do something.

You did your best to ignore the Night Lord that was hanging around. Affectionate bastards you were told as you remember those videos of just them being friendly. You shiver at the memory of that one gang member who thought he was so big... being homeless you quickly learned how sleeping near warbands meant that you had to ignore certain things... certain sounds especially at night. Astartes always scared you... you couldn't point to any incident that had happened involving them just that you got bad feelings from them... a certain type of dread. So it wasn't exactly like a fear of dogs but the way they looked and acted they were so human... why were they here... you make yourself look smaller as the Night Lord with what looked like a metal spider on his back sat next to you.

You hear him coo and trill at you trying to get your attention, his head tilting slightly as you could hear the slightly distorted trill to his voice from his helmet, and you did your best to ignore him. Eventually he did leave you alone and you had hoped that would be the last you saw him. But, every day for the next week he kept finding you... he would click and coo at you beckoning you closer with those armored claws of his. It was the last day in the week that you broke and approached him as you chose to fill your car with gas over eating and he had shown up with food. You feel tears gather with each bite as he trills down at you and you feel him hold you close... you hear his purr... you've seen this display online it was a bonding display. You do your best to not choak on the hot food as you can feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes, really the last thing you want is an Astartes bonding to you.

You feel the Astartis petting your head as you eat, trilling at you and you're certain if he wasn't in armor he would be purring. When you look up at him miserably he coos at you trying to sooth the clear distress you were in. His hands flexing each time you try to pull away from him, "You don't want me to be your bonded buddy," You finally speak up and that just breaks something in you and you feel those heavy tears roll down your cheeks even as you try to use the heel of your palm to rub your eyes clean they still fall, "I can't give you anything." Your voice cracks as you admit that.

Anrir sat there silently as you tried to reject the bond… he could feel it fraying at the edges like a lighter had been taken to it. But Anrir was calm even as his entire existence seemed to reel on its axis as you try to push it away. Your voice cracking gave way to the tears that ran down your face, his black eyes darting over your face as baselines crying was familiar to him given what he was but it felt so different… so wrong. Why are you letting her cry Anrir? A soft voice in the back of his mind seems to say. He could feel it fray more and more… but Anrir was aware that when a bond frays… it never attaches back normally. There was also a small high for him as would this be how he tasted death? Not after millennia of being alive just some mortal woman would be the death of him? He would have laughed if it actually broke but he pulled her against him and you did not make the effort to pull away… and so the bond repairs wrong. He did not need anything from you except you.

How you lean against him trying to hide away. So he was okay if you couldn’t give him anything now. He didn’t expect you to give him anything in the first place… but a wicked thought plants itself in his mind. Perhaps it was old fashioned… after all he watched the radical social changes in a mere 40 years and yet like always the Astartes remained unchanged. But… why couldn’t he provide for you? Anrir was a capable Astartes and he did not survive this long by chance but memories flicker by of how generous others were towards their humans. He grinned darkly as he could recognize the signs now… oh… he had intensely bonded to you… he had read the manuals and grimoires both in person and on the noosphere… he had helped write some of those too… so he knew what to look for in terms of side effects and was filing away mental notes about his deviances. And as much as he wanted to act on those feelings Anrir was patient, he was an Apothacarion after all, and his Dragă needed to be taken care of. He purrs and chirps at her to calm her down and gets her to finish her meal.

Thrones, credits, souls, cash… it was annoying dealing with baselines as most societies revolved around needing a good or currency for things and this was not their reality or time period where refusing an Astartes was suicidal. He noted his lack of desire to skin the man yelling at his Dragă to get him to stop “loitering”. But he, like most Astartes, relied on each other and the complex network and ecosystem they built like a parasite on the infrastructure of what was already there or was it the other way around? The Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists would say they laid out efficient infrastructure… but he found resources; since it was no longer allowed to simply take humans as serfs anymore and just have them live in a base full time… not that the Night Lords had one yet. It would be a few more years till the base was operational and that would be a mustering point for most Night Lords in the area. But Anrir noted how jumpy his precious Dragă got at the idea of getting help from Salamanders or staying in a shelter; he was fine with her choice. He wrinkled his nose as her car was falling apart and he couldn’t fit in it and him being a Night Lord did not help his goal of getting money. However, Anrir had a long reputation having worked in the Consortium with Bile too being a prominent figure in his legion’s hierarchy, no matter how much he tried to stay out of the politicking, so when the Alpharii approached him he wasn’t too surprised.

There were treaties and edicts that any Astartes had to agree to if they wanted to stay near the humans. Besides the obvious of not killing any humans; which before Anrir was bonded was a surprisingly hard ask, but they were not allowed to mettle with them. Technology was to be kept away from them at all costs, no extending their life spans, no augmetics beyond simple necessary prosthetics, and a few others. It all made sense as it was clear they were not ready at all for the horrors of the wider galaxy… no they would not play a hand into accidentally smothering humanity in the cradle because they helped them reach the stars earlier than they were ready for. But just like how human killers existed… and Night Lord trafficker Hunts happened… there was always some bending and breaking of these rules.

The Alpharii couldn’t help mettle in the affairs of the baselines, it was their legion’s expertise, they were information brokers and information hiders… they modified records to hide the sudden birth of a child from a woman and a Astartes… to all the way of covering up when forbidden technology falls into the hands of baselines and there needs to be a raid. They had their fingers in many pies as the saying goes… and Anrir could not play the moral high ground for their request. They weren’t supposed to extend the baselines lives… there was the crude method of giving them a transfusion of Astartes blood and hope they survive all the way to getting the chemicals and components needed for rejuvenation treatments. The latter took time to get what they needed as they could only synthesis so much being limited to what was only on this one planet; and it was hard to keep the Iron Hands from getting eager in “helping” them be able to colonize the Sol system.

But… Anrir looked down at the old corrupt man. Such greedy creatures humans could be and Anrir could never be like his kin who were able to see themselves as being above humanity… Anrir was far too aware of his own humanity and also his own lack of humanity too. “How do I know it will work?” The old man interrupts Anrir’s explanation of what he will be doing in transplanting his heart, “You could be some… con artist.” He says with malice in his frail voice.

Anrir never liked nobles… and he was always surprised at how… self important they could be. His smooth voice answers the question before one of the Alpharii can speak, “My reputation,” He had asked the Alpharii before this and he was not bonded to any of them… he was very much a pawn that the Alpharii weren’t ready to loose yet, “your… companions wouldn’t have gotten me if they doubted my skills. The heart is made for you so there is no chance of rejection.” He says truthfully as it was child's play growing the organ for him.

Anrir voxes one of the Alpharii, “As for my payment for this?” He hisses letting his displeasure bleed through as how dare he speak to Anrir in such a way.

“Everything is set up in ways that won’t tip off the government officials to the sudden influx of wealth. And conveniently set up so that if you choose to help us again…”

Anrir waved his armored hand over his shoulder as his medical mechadendrites unfolded like a spider on his back, “Yes yes you lot have me for several surgeries,” He goes through the process of setting everything for fine movements and working on humans, “But please be aware should anything go wrong in the payments that I can be quite spiteful.” He threatens and enjoys the place of power he is able to come from given how specialists are in such short supplies here and he is certain there is only one other Consortium member on the planet… he knows his expertise is invaluable he is certain he is on many lists to be kept alive.

“Of course Anrir.” Is all one says and that was good enough as Anrir headed into the prepared room.

You were happy that Anrir returned as he did keep you safe and maybe you were feeling those good vibes that people always say they get around Astartes. But now? You looked at what was holding out to you with apprehension. You’re sure that it was a thousand dollars in his hand and you felt hesitant to take it from him as no one just gives people money and not expecting something back… your spine crawls at a memory… He just sighs looking at you passively and perhaps a little annoyed, “Dragă. Go get your car looked at and get it fixed.” He says and you take the money from him as your AC had died and you’re certain that also meant your heating was gone… “Unless,” Your eyes returned to his face as your eyes picked up the bit of white at the roots of his sideburns, “You want to get a bigger vehicle?”

“But I can’t-” You start.

“Don’t worry about money for a second Dragă.” He says putting his hands on your shoulders.

You squirm under his gaze as you considered rejecting it as Anrir gave you such feelings that there was something else he was after… then again you never felt truly comfortable around Astartes… always a lingering sense of dread but… “Maybe… maybe we get something you can fit in as well. Wouldn’t that be nice?” You say softly as you’re certain those cars are far beyond what you can afford and from what you heard basically never break down.

You hold your breath for a moment as Anrir cups your face, you could hear him trill at you, as he grinned down at you with a smile that you’re certain the devil himself would envy, “What a thoughtful Dragă.” Was all he cooed at you.

After that, with much fussing from him, he made you use the money to stay in a motel for a week and you don’t remember when the last time you ate so much food. Anrir in the meanwhile took care of things. You were torn on letting him do such as wasn’t this the reason you had a fallout with your family? Your hands shake at the memories… he ruined your life. Yet while you’re certain Anrir is doing the same thing… it feels different. Anrir only suggested what you use the money for never using it to tell you what to do… Anrir confused you but you took comfort in the thought that he wanted something from you that he could get at your absolute lowest… everyone says bonds are precious things so maybe you should trust him more.

Anrir makes sure he always has enough money on him as he was making sure that there was a positive association in your mind that he was able to provide for you. The fuss you made when he got the car customized so that you could live out of it as long as you wanted, he hopped it wouldn’t be much longer, but it was your choice and all he could do was nudge his Dragă. The excitement he felt rush up his spine when he heard you say “Anrir” in a specific tone… a tone he associated with his Dragă needing something… Dragă needed him to provide. Sometimes you were like a skittish animal only staying for the exchange but sometimes you lingered like an animal and he could get what he wanted from you too. He felt that dopamine rush as you tolerated his touches, the joy he felt when you let him cup your face, how loudly he purred as you let him nuzzle you, petting your head, or rubbing your back. He could still see the hesitation in your eyes… he could tell you weren’t as (warp blind) (bond blind) as other humans were and Anrir is fine with that in fact it made this all the more enjoyable for him.

Winter always comes too soon and once again Anrir brings up places you can stay over the colder months and as hard as you try you still can’t get rid of the feelings that if you acquiesce he will want something. Anrir himself is disappointed that you wont ask him for much more; he does use winter to get something he does want. He finally gets to hold you for as long as he wants, usually your whole sleep cycle. He’s slept in far worse spots and just being a little cramped is hardly anywhere near the list of worst rests he has had. He purrs loudly as you’re glued to his side or his chest at night. Cooing to you as you drift off each night with a full belly in his arms. Its hard not to drift off with how he purrs and the rhythmic beating of his twin hearts… this feels like it’s going to be an easy winter for once so of course you get sick as a dog.

“Poor Dragă.” Anrir’s voice breaks you through your sick haze as the chills don’t help but Anrir being so warm helps. “I know you won’t like this suggestion but as a health specialist I do recommend that perhaps it is time for you to live inside more regularly again?” You can barely hear the quiet engine over the Heater going, Anrir not allowing you to fuss about anything right now once more saying he had it under control, “Arata mizerabil... (Miserable looking…)” He says in Nostroman letting his tongue click as you bury yourself closer to his chest, feeling those ports dig into your skin, “At least something temporary, yes?” He says sounding a little worried, “Wouldn’t that be nice? A temporary place to stay till you find what you want to do?”

“Daycare.” You croak out.

“Hmm?” Anrir looks down at you cocking his head to the side surprised you answered him.

“I want to take care of kids. I like taking care of kids. Don’t know why… so I want to start a daycare.” You say but you soon get weepy, “But who is going to let me do that. Look at me! I’m living in my car running away from my family and I can’t -” You stop your distressed rant as you cough and your nose plugs up again making it hard for you to breath and you can’t help but squirm in Anrir’s grip.

“Shh Dragă, I’ll take care of you.” Anrir says softly a uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice you weren’t expecting from a Night Lord, “You don’t need to worry anymore, Dragă.” Again it’s a soft and warmth to his voice you didn’t know he could have, “Do you trust me?” He asks in a tone you have trouble reading.

Bonds are supposed to be good things… that’s what everyone says… you have a companion for life… and you can tell that they get so much out of what we give them as they were clearly made for something far more violent. But… did you trust Anrir. No… you did not trust him as that feeling never goes away… “What do you want Anrir?” You finally say after a minute of silence.

“You, Dragă.” Anrir says quickly breathlessly.

Again you lay there silently thinking… you didn’t know what he wanted… was it really just being with you? You’ve been with him for months at this point and you couldn’t figure out what he wanted. You did research on bonds from what little you could find and everything kept coming back to just wanting to keep their bonded alive and safe. You were scared to let someone in your safe little world but you were so tired of keeping everything so tight to your chest. Maybe it was because you were sick but you nod and let out a heavy sigh softly saying, “I trust you Anrir.”

His reaction was immediate as he pressed his cheek to yours and you could feel the purring in your teeth as it was so loud, your finger bones felt like they were vibrating, but you didn’t feel the quick kisses that he leaves on your skin. You whimper at the sudden affection. It was anrir’s quirk as he was odd with his affection as whenever you would seek him out for affection he would smother you in his affection but you were okay with it because it was on your terms… your gut wouldn’t stop at the feeling that sometimes it was on his terms luring you in… He presses a kiss to your forehead trilling, his accent thick, “I don’t want you to worry any more my Dragă. I will take care of everything.” His black eyes seem to glitter in delight as he makes his declaration. And you just let go of that tension a bit more.

You don’t know how Anrir found this place, it had a horribly short lease but you knew that it was just to get you out of the weather… you’re certain this place wasn’t built for Astartes in mind so usually that meant they weren’t allowed. You guessed that the landlord looked the other way if said Astartes was paying in cash. It was small and cramped... but it was warm and you could store more than just a bit of food. You were sitting in the tub as Anrir sat on the side shirtless as his hands were massaging shampoo into your hair. You didn't need help with your hair but that didn't stop you from leaning into his hands as he helped you feel clean.

Anrir chuckled at your gentle groaning and moaning as it was clear you were enjoying yourself. He enjoyed helping you feel this way helping you clean and take care of you in this small way... he shivered as he was cleaning his Dragă... he wrapped his Dragă in a nice fluffy towel... he carried his Dragă to the bedroom and savored the laugh that left your mouth as he just tossed you onto the bed with a bounce.

You just laid there, eyes closed, enjoying yourself... sure there was only one bed which was fine as you had spent most of the winter snuggling up to Anrir in the car, it was not the most comfortable mattress in the world... the apartment was quiet...no it was never quiet not with the thin walls... but Anrir was quiet. You became aware of how you were just laying naked on the bed... alarms were going off in your head as you feel his smooth hands run over your knees, feeling his thumbs push into the side as he spreads your legs open slowly. This wasn't normal... and yet this felt like what everything was building up too... but you were always told that bonds were selfless things, right?

Your skin trembles as his hands move over your drying flesh, your breathing shivers, you can feel the bed shift as Anrir climbs onto it. Your throat bobs as you swallow the nervous energy but your eyes open as you feel the bare skin of his legs as he had divested himself of his pants. Anrir's silent still as he presses his scarred lips against your cheek, his body leaning over yours as he settles between your legs, and you feel his hand move to your chin to slowly turn you to meet him. His lips dragging against your flesh as the scarred flesh presses against your own lips. You were close enough that you could tell that his eyes were not fully black... you could see the dark blue of his iris darting with micromovements as he took in your face. But, you could see the predator in his eyes... but it was something more the term hyper-predator comes to mind because what monsters would someone like Anrir need to hunt?

Anrir presses his mouth to yours more and you close your eyes allowing the kiss to deepen. Anrir had been nothing but good to you... but you worry... would he use this against you? You desperately hope that he wouldn't. "Mina..." His voice rumbles like thunder as his hands drag across your flesh in a way that feels dominant and possessive. You can't stop the shuddering moan that leaves your mouth as his mouth moves against the front of your neck, licking the way your throat moves in its swallowing motion. "Toate ale mele… (All mine...)" He says whispering to you in a language that you don't know, "Fiecare parte din tine… toată a mea… trupul și sufletul tău. (Every part of you... all mine... your body and your soul.)" He says again as Anrir presses his cock against your entrance. His mouth continuing its worship of your neck and chin as you open your eyes slightly and just watch Anrir with lidded eyes. He cups your face as his tongue presses hard on your lower lip before pushing his tongue back into your mouth just kissing you hard.

You knew you had fringe thoughts about Astartes... Anrir was just proving to you one thing... that they were far too human to ignore. Far too human and far too predatory... you could never get that feel good emotion from Anrir... from any Astartes really. They were all predators... they were man made monsters made to fight monsters that you didn't know would exist beyond the silver screen of Hollywood or the writings of horror writers. He pulls his mouth away trilling at you and pausing when he sees the look on your face. You were looking at a predator looking at prey a malicious looking thing that tried to play the part of a friendly thing... a wolf playing the role of a dog. "Anrir."

"Yes Dragă." He says as a hand cups your face.

"What do you want?" You again ask... because... you don't think he's lying about the bond but this wasn't normal? You felt everything rushing anxiously to a point.

"You, Dragă." He says devotedly.

You were tired... so tired of being on your own for years before Anrir came. Oh how much Anrir had helped beyond just the money he gave you and the food... just being here... even if it was wrong... even if... you were so tired. You pull Anrir into a kiss as you didn't want to think anymore! You didn't want to worry any more... you whimper as Anrir just purrs loudly as you decide to let Anrir take care of it... take care of you... just for today you tell yourself as you melt into the embrace.

You feel the slight discomforting sensation of your walls spreading open as his cock slowly pushes in. When it becomes too much your hand or foot pushes against his chest which makes him stop till your brow stops furrowing and you for him to continue. This continues until his hips are flush with yours and Anrir hisses in delight, "Atât de strâns atât de bine cu mine… draga mea… a mea. (So tight so good to me... my dear... mine.)" You once more don't understand him but you decide to not worry about it as he starts moving. Your thighs burn slightly at the stretch to have them spread open wide for Anrir to thrust into you. Your eyes close as you focus on the feeling and enjoy that he doesn't ask you to look at him but that doesn't stop him from talking, "Mă simți fată frumoasă? (Do you feel me pretty girl?)" He trills in that unknown tongue, "Te concentrezi pe penisul meu din interiorul tău? (Are you focused on my cock inside of you?)" He asks something else perhaps not realizing or caring that you don't understand him.

He picks up the pace as he pants down at you and you just yowl and moan in pleasure. Porn making everything feel so fake when real sex sounds so unsexy at times but you had no need to make things sound sexy or be perfect. You could hear Anrir chuckle at an unflattering noise you make as he slams his hips into yours again making you repeat it. Eventually things feel tighter and more anxious as Anrir tilts you slightly so his cock pushes into you at a downward angle and you just laugh at the unflattering squeak and squawk that you make. Anrir laughs with you at all those weird and all those distinctively you vocalizations but you just don't care as no one is telling you that you're being unappealing... you throw your head back and arch up as you earned the right to not worry. You moan loudly moaning his name as you feel so good! You earned this reward! You deserve this... you deserve to just let go... you orgasm with little fan fair... just a simple gasp.

You feel so good... everything feels so good as Anrir continues to chase his release, the feeling of a bed against your back, the fuzzy climbdown from an orgasm, the oily drop of sweat from Anrir that lands on your shoulder, and the comforting stutter from him that stutter causes you to open your eyes to watch his brow furrow and you watch how surprisingly expressive he gets as he cums.

The apartment is mostly quiet... as quiet as you can get with thin walls... you lay there with him not thinking about anything... not thinking as you feel his cock softening against your inner thigh. He lets out a loud breath as he lays back in bed in his spot as you meanwhile are pushing away the worry about the consequences of sleeping with Anrir. You cuddle against his side, his arm wrapping around you, you feel the cum ooze out of you ... you're still tired of thinking... you're so tired of it... so tired of worrying why and what Anrir was doing for money... You put your head against his chest over his hearts ignoring the discomfort of the ports against your face... you just listen to the way his hearts beat.

Present day

You were in a much better spot than when you were a couple of years ago... you actually came into money, no it wasn't a rich distant relative dying but it was another person you had camped with when you were homeless. They had actually won the lottery and were being smart with it, which you think was more so their Ultramarine had helped in making smart choices. Though you had your suspicions... the Alpharii... a few seem to come by every few months some to coo at the kids, eager to find a bonded, and some to talk with Anrir as you watched them take containers from your home. But being given money you sudden just kept finding yourself with more money and it was stupid how much money you got after investing some of it... you didn't want to question it and Anrir was very good at distracting you.

Oh speaking of Anrir... he got you so many gifts. He would still give you random bouts of cash but he was finally acting more and more like how a bonded Astartis is supposed to act. You also were seeing how talented he was with his hands as besides his occupation you discovered his macabre hobby that all Night Lords seem to have... bone scrimshawing and taxidermy. You could point out all the time that he acted like a normal bonded Astartis and yet at the same time... how many gestures were more. You got outfits, jewelry, wines, your current house, and hell even your job you know he had a hand in financing... it spiraled out of control with his gifts that your friends noticed and asked who your 'sugar daddy' was or rather if he had any friends.

You smile warmly and wave goodbye as the last child finally gets picked up. You head back inside letting out a soft exhale and start picking up the room not getting very far into cleaning up when Anrir wraps his arms around you and purrs into your shoulder... purring into where he tattooed you years ago. You feel him give a playful tug onto the choker collar that he made for you, expensive thing and you know he liked you wearing it. You were lucky that no one asked you what Anrir was... everyone just assumed he was a Raven Guard...

"I can smell your worry Dragă." He says nipping your earlobe.

"I'm just tired Anrir."

"Then lets go home." He kisses your cheek.

"But I have stuff to pick up-"

"And this is why we hire others to clean," He says gentle cocking his head to the side, "You're worried about something." Anrir takes the toy from your hands as you pick at the seams.

You let out a heavy sigh bringing your thumb to your lips, "I'm just scared everything is about to go wrong." Anrir takes your hand to stop you from biting your nails.

"And if it does... I will take care of it." Anrir says with such certainty and authority that makes you believe him.

The breath in your chest you let out with a heavy sigh, "Okay." You nod.

He tugs on your choker bringing you close for a kiss as he trills softly, "I will always take care of you my frumoasă dragă (beautiful darling)." And you chose to believe it.

#space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #oc: Anrir #darling: Draga #carnal bond #intense bond #yandere bond #tw: smut #tw yandere #tw: obsessive behavior #I have been working on this for so long #the smut was debatable on adding it #but the longer this took to get out the more I was like #“Fuck it”#because momrad hasn't been able to write a lot #and so its like here's some smut guys #also Raven being super ovulating right now and just being unwell for my guy so yeah another thing to convince me to keep the smut in it #also sorry about the POV switching between Draga and Anrir #I enjoy letting people see what both of them think and feel and I know its probably messy but just... yeah #no beta we die like horus #no beta we die like sanguinius #no beta we die like ferrus #no beta we die like the emperor #these tags are a mess #these tags are getting silly #im just so happy that im finally done with this and can move onto other projects

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mechazushi · 1 month ago

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The Doctor is (Unfortunately) In. {A Kn8 Short Story}

(Also, I just wanna mention before ya'll get started that we are talking about the long-haired version of Hoshina and he more or less looks like this ->

(Like this but colored purple. No, I do not know who this man is, he just popped up in Google search.)

Some days, Hoshina would find himself despising his position as the daimyo to the shogun of Tachikawa, Mina Ashido. It wasn't that he hated who he worked under, so much the etiquette that came with his position. While the palanquin he rode in offered some protection from the humid environment outside, his heavy military wear only made the suffocating, wet heat all the more insufferable. He would rather be traveling across the countryside by horseback with minimal procession and not within the impressive sight of an official military march, but it was to be for this particular situation. To make the mistake of showing any semblance or weakness was to project how available one's territory was for the conquering, and to undertake such a bizarre mission as he was would certainly qualify.

Hoshina, among other members of Ashido's cabinet had been dealing with a problem with a growing, concerning magnitude. Random members of the collective population had been afflicted with a strange and malicious illness. Young, old, rich, poor, it didn't matter as it struck with veracity and indifference. The bodies becoming weak was the only sign as to the horror that was yet to come. Quickly, almost overnight as they slept, the afflicted's skin would turn pale and withered as it draped loosely over their skeleton and rendered them bedridden. Hanging off like a crumpled pile of sheets and just a blisteringly dry, the patient would only have a day, if that, left to live. There were no puncture marks, no outward signs of foul play or previous malady. Hoshina had lost too many already, and the problem showed no intention of stopping as it infectiously spread to other districts.

The Shoganate Ashido had called her closest members to action and had given them a task. They were to spread to the furthest reaches of their lands and find someone, anyone, who could locate the source of such an affliction. Priests, doctors, and all manner of physicians of all varieties had come to take a crack at the deadly ailment, but none had succeeded before. News was already starting to spread of Tachikawa's condition and rumors were beginning to spread of the potential risk of takeover. Not one to give up easily, Hoshina had set out to locate one last ditch effort. It was a quality Mina had commended often, saying it matched her ferocity in battle as well as governing, but even she had the wherewithal to question his sanity behind closed doors. Nevertheless, no one was any closer to finding an answer, let alone a solution.

Thus the over the top display of strength. If one must travel so far for a cure, one should at least make a show of not being desperate about it.

"Such was the way of politics" Hoshina pondered wearily. Battlefields were so much more simpler. There was at least an understanding and decorum that came with the honor of causing bloodshed in the name of protection. In politics, there was an undercurrent of underhandedness one could never escape from, no matter how pious one could be.

"Commander, we're nearing the waterfront." Ikaruga, his second in command, informed him from outside the shear curtain separating Hoshina from the swampy environment outside.

Hoshina's search had brought him to a backwater fishing village toward the mainland of Japan. Down here, in the sulfur and ozone scented swamps found at the headwaters of the Shinano river, was the supposed location of a very obscure physician. A man that dealt with only the most hopeless and peculiar cases. A myth made living and true, but only if one could locate him. He was the hardest to track down, almost as if the universe conspired against Hoshina to do everything it could to prevent this man's location from reaching his hands. The amount of soldiers and couriers he had gone through, whether it was from conditions so harsh they quit on the spot or from literal death, made Hoshina wonder if this doctor was worth the trouble. If he even was a doctor.

Peaking out slyly from behind the thin silk curtain, he observed the sleepy little fishing village he was forcing his immediate standing army through. There were next to no people out and about in this part of town, even for what had to have been the height of the work day. Every so often he would see a child relaxing in the doorway of a crude hut or maybe someone causally discussing the price of food with a vendor, but outside of that there was nothing. Even the air of the town felt stagnant, which felt considerably odd since they should have been at the start of a wide and rushing river. No one paid the intruding visitors any mind as they bypassed them all, making a beeline for their true location. His soldiers brought the palanquin up to the beginning of what would appear to be a very worn and questionably stable dock.

Stepping out, Hoshina's feet made contact against the shockingly solid dirt just before the start of the ramshackle bridge. He took a long, slow look at the building he was soon to be entering it turned out. The precarious dock jutted out an impossibly long distance over the still, muddy river water before him. At the end of the dock was an equally decrepit looking fishing shack that he was told had been converted into a drinking house for fishermen. The grey and weathered boards had clear gaps that not only let echo out the raucous laughter of workmen making merry, but the glints of oil lamp light strung from the ceiling. The makeshift windows made a clearer image of the casual commotion that went on inside as he watched labor-battered people cross in front of the window without hurry. It was a place that Hoshina's species wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole, but desperation had a habit of making one adventurous.

"Permission to speak freely for a moment, Commander?" Ikaruga inquired as he saddled up besides Hoshina.

"Well I certainly don't pay you to keep your outgoing personality around. Out with it." Hoshina replied with only mild jest.

"We're sure there's no one more qualified? At all?" Ikaruga questioned with deep sincerity as he developed the audacity to look his commanding officer in the eye.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, ever heard of that Lieutenant?"

"The "Desperate Measure" we're talking about here is a drunken, has-been quack in a backwater fishing bar, Sir. Apologies for coming across as sceptical."

"Apology will be put up for review later, Lieutenant. We've got a quack to interview." Hoshina countered as he made his way swiftly across the dock with several members of his army trailing faithfully behind him.

Walking past the wide and surprisingly heavy double doors, Hoshina witnessed the sleepy nature of the patrons that seamlessly matched the energy of the village outside and quickly noticed how deceptively loud the room felt. Too much noise and not enough activity to match it. Looking around, the first thing that came to be important was the fact that the floor of the shack had holes in it, equal to the ones in the walls just as his foot nearly snapped off in one of them. Ikaruga had to hold him up as he regained his footing, an embarrassing first impression but none of the patrons seemed to notice or care. Taking more care as to where he was stepping, he made his way over to the open bar at the left side of the room. Stepping up but not sitting down, he addressed the unusually young looking bartender with short, shaggy black hair and oddly pink eyes.

"Excuse me, we have been told that there might be a doctor of... an unusual quality. It's been said to ask for him here, is that right?" Hoshina took the initiative and talked to the disinterested bartender in odd clothing.

He tried not to gawk too hard at the young man's eyes or the way he seemed to be dressed in a white sheet held up by his shoulders by round, gold, button pins. The bartender took a long, dragging look up and down Hoshina and his irritated-looking companion. With a slow eye roll and a low huff, the bartender lazily pointed over to the very back of the room towards a table with three of the most colorful individuals that appeared to be making up most of the racket. Hoshina quietly thanked the man and carefully shuffled his way over to the indicated table. There was a much older man flanked by two enthusiastic teens with the old man's back facing them as they walked up with all of them being engaged in a rousing dice and cup game while shrouded in a thin fog of pipe smoke.

The two teens certainty looked like interesting company as Hoshina watched them on the way over. The one to the left of the man was dressed in a curiously shaped blue linen shirt, light looking brown pants, and had a spotted seal skin wrapped around the waist. He had hair so white and glimmering it could've gotten lost in a pile of snow. He carried himself with an intense level of focus as the three of them became engrossed in another round of dice tossing, but that visage quickly deteriorated once it became clear that he had lost. As he scowled at his companions, Hoshina's attention was drawn to the other side of the table next.

There sat a man that looked to be about the same age. Just as equally dressed in foreign clothing, this one's outfit had gone in the opposite direction and looked more suitable for this hot and humid weather. They had no shirt but wore a beaded red vest, droopy and baggy pants, and had only anklets adorning his feet. His hair stood straight into the air and looked to be a shocking wall of pink. He appeared to be the spitfire of this oddball trio seeing as though he lost as well, he was still celebrating the rush and emotion of the moment.

That just left the older gentleman in the center. Since he was facing away from them, the only things the commander could know at the moment was that he was tall and wide, had short black hair, smoked a kiseru, and wore a well worn, dark blue yukata. Telling by the faces and the sounds of their foreign language that it was the man in front of them that had developed a winning streak. Before they became intent of starting another round, Hoshina coughed harshly into his sleeve as a subtle way of letting them know they were there. The white haired one saw them first and gave them an evaluating glance before leaning in close to the man in the middle.

"Great. He works in his sleepwear." Ikaruga muttered vindictively under his breath once it was clear that this was who they were looking for. Hoshina quickly jabbed his elbow into his lieutenant's gut to silence him before their target turned around to face them.

"Oh ho! It appears I have clients!" The burly man in the middle exclaimed as he talked around the smoking pipe in his mouth.

He loudly shuffled his chair around so he could face the travelers behind him. What was to grace Hoshina's eyes first was the sight of the man's yukata was sloppily draped over him with it being barely tied in place and his sleeves were pushed up as far as they could go. The supposed doctor had a broad and hairy chest, quite impressive solid arms, and an unprofessional looking paunch. Eventually his eyes were drawn to the star-burst like scar that fed into several spiderweb shaped cuts on his chest. He tried his best not to stare at it, but it held a certain pull on Hoshina's mind. It looked like it would have been rather painful a few years ago, but that's not what was so interesting. If it wasn't for the pipe smoke obscuring his vision at times, he would have been certain that the scar seemed to pulse. With what, he wasn't sure.

Without taking the pipe out of his mouth, the man asked, "What seems to be the problem? Need me to fix your friend's face there?" He chuckled lightly as he addressed Hoshina.

"Are you Kafka? The...Spirit Physician?' Hoshina asked tentatively as he had to hold up a hand to stop Ikaruga from rushing forward.

"Spirit Physician, huh? You've found one of the nicer terms." Kafka answered as he deeply bowed his head, "Yep, can't be anyone else. Even if I wanted to."

"As I'm sure it's obvious by now, the land that I serve is undergoing a hardship that we are desperate to remedy." Hoshina told the supposed doctor.

"Well then out with it. What seems to be the problem?" Kafka interrupted looking somewhat uninterested, a face matched on his table companions as well.

Collecting himself and trying not to lash out from the minor disrespect, Hoshina continued where he left off, "For lack of a better description, we think we're dealing with a vampire problem."

"Garlic flowers, silver, and send for a Catholic priest." Kafka rudely dismissed as he shuffled his chair around mid-sentence, "Unless we're talking about Nukekubi, then just get any qualified shinto priest. Either way, not anything you need me for." His tone almost betrayed an amount of melancholy, but it was hard to tell with his back turned.

"There have appeared to be no puncture wounds on the body." Hoshina gritted out through his teeth, the stranger's behavior coming across as incredibly irritating.

This, however, seemed to have finally captured the doctor's attention. Kafka slowly turned back around, tossing a wary, but almost hopeful glance over his thick shoulder.

"No puncture wounds, huh? Body still looks like withered fruit?" He asked with slight interest.

"Yes." Hoshina answered simply.

"Is the skin pale or brownish colored?" Kafka asked as he turned a little more.

The two men turned to look at each other briefly and exchanged curious glances. "One could say it looks... vaguely brown." Ikaruga answered for his commander.

"Got a body with ya?" Kafka continued to inquire as he finally took the pipe out of his mouth, "Or do you expect me to walk all the way back with ya on your word alone?"

"We had a feeling you might ask." Hoshina answered as he nodded to Ikaruga to wordlessly send him away, "It's outside. if you would be so kind as to join us-"

"Nevermind that. Bring it inside. Easier for me to work that way." Kafka interjected, but stood up all the same.

"Inside?" Ikaruga returned incredulously before he left the building completely, "You must be one shitty doctor if you think the sight of a dead body is a fitting one for such an inappropriate place as a bar!"

"Oh, don't worry about them-" Kafka countered in a witting tone.

He took the pipe in his hand and made sure the two of them were watching as he tapped it four times on the wooden table behind him. On the last tap a brilliant, bursting wave of blue light was sent out from the contact the pipe made on the table. As the wave rippled out through the small bar, the room began to change as it passed. Wooden boards creaked and groaned as tables melted into squat beds. The walls snapped and splintered as they changed color, forming rows upon rows of smooth, dark red drawers with rattling handles. The people that had once sparsely filled the bar all melded with the blue wave of light and dissipated along with it, now clearing the old fishing bar. The bar itself remained the same, but the young man that was stationed behind it now matched the color of the light that had swept through the place and now appeared to be translucent but still unbothered by everything.

"-My patrons won't mind a bit." Kafka finished as he drank in the looks of fear and astonishment on the high ranking travelers.

It was safe to say that Hoshina never believed in magic before now. Karma? Divine intervention? Praying to Gods for help or answers to questions? Each one was a different level of acceptable disillusionment in his mind. But as he witnessed the tables and walls morph and twist into things that had no reasonable explanation as to how they were there before now, Hoshina found himself a little shaken and willing to believe. And it only got stranger from there as he watched the head of a girl with long and voluminous blond pigtails peak out from behind the door frame that was off to the side of the bar. The head was normal, but seeing as it more so floated in the center of the space on a long, noodle-like neck as opposed to being more closely attached to a body, any ability to expect this place to make sense dropped into the silty water below.

"What's going on out there? I felt the spiritual shift from the back of the-" The head began to talk with a tone of annoyance commonly found in disgruntled teenagers, but as the head swiveled to scan the room and landed her gaze on the clients, she let out a choked shreak and quickly swung her head back out of sight.

"It's okay Kikoru! You can come out and watch if you want!" Kafka cheerfully shouted towards where the head appeared from.

"I hope you don't mind." Kafka said as he turned back to Hoshina, "She doesn't get many chances to let herself out from the back." he bashfully shrugged.

Once Hoshina returned a stunned nod as approval did Kafka wave on out the curious yokai. The head on the ribbon neck peeked out from around the corner again and gave a cursory glance around the room before locking her nervous eyes on the doctor. He tossed out some more words of encouragement as the girl looked less hesitant about appearing before others. Finally, she quickly shuffled herself over to the bar where the ghostly boy was standing, allowing Hoshina and Ikaruga a good look at her lengthened neck before she sat herself on the floor behind the bar and decided to just... rest her chin on the table top. Hoshina did he best not to stare, but he could't help peering at her from the side of his eye. What stuck out to him, more than the unusual neck length, was her features. If he wasn't careful, he would almost feel the need to ask if he knew her.

"A rokurokubi in the flesh. That poor girl." He thought as he subtly watched the ghost try and gently pat at the top of her head, wondering if she could feel such a gesture.

"So... the body please?" Kafka mentioned after he coughed a little to redirect Hoshina's and his attendant's attention.

Hoshina shook his head to clear the fog of wonder that had settled in and gently commanded Ikaruga to fetch the body they had brought with them. Hoshina's lieutenant soon returned with the body that had been covered in a white sheet and several men to bring it inside. Kafka used the pipe to vaguely gesture to the men to put the body down anywhere before chomping back on the mouth piece. The younger man with the snow blonde hair handed Kafka a drinking gourd so he could pour the liquid inside all over his hands.

"Thanks for the drop off guys. Go on and head outside for me, will ya? I'll let you know what the results are soon enough." Kafka muttered around the pipe in his mouth as he practically lathered the strong smelling grain alcohol over his strong arms.

"Would it be too intrusive if I asked to stay and watch? I'm quite interested as to what your... methods might be." Hoshina asked, hoping it wasn't too much of a problem.

"Only if you shove the rest of 'em out. Place is getting a little too cramped for my taste." Kafka answered as he adjusted his yukata to be a little more acceptable.

Hoshina agreed by telling the men that had brought the patient in to head back with the rest of the group. Once he saw that Ikaruga still haden't left, he was about to reissue his order again, but his lieutenant spoke up before he could.

"With all due respect, I have chosen to stay by your side by any means necessary, and the act of leaving you alone with this quack directly violates that command." He harshly retorted, staring his commander in the eye and remaining firm on where he stood.

"Fine. But I'm gonna need you to back up and make friends with one of my buddies toward the front." Kafka accepted as he nodded to the front doors.

There, Hoshina and Ikaruga saw two more, very different men close the doors and slide thick and heavy iron bars across them, effectively locking everyone inside. Runes on the bars flashed a bright blue before fading away as they settled into place. Once properly secure, the two men turned to face everyone in the center of the room. The one on the right was a rather pretty looking European man with long, greenish hair that wore a chainmail shirt under a tattered and stained tunic bearing a green cross. The one on the left was a tall, broad, and dark skinned man. Standing a head taller than most in the room, he wore a tan and well tailored canvas blouse with wide chest pockets and a thick leather belt cinched high on the waist. The two of them bore knowing glances into the traveler's gazes and promptly separated to their own seats on either side of the doors. Ikaruga looked at the men, back at Hoshina with a silent question, and turned to go stand beside the taller one of the two.

"Last warning before I get started." Kafka offered as he pulled the pipe back out of his mouth, "If you vomit or shit yourself out of fear from what you're maybe about to see, try and aim for one of the holes in the floor. We've got enough messes to deal with on the regular."

As he finished his warning, he handed his pipe over to the man behind him with the pink hair and open vest. The young man promptly took the pipe and used the edge of his vest to wipe the mouth piece off before sticking it in his mouth. Hoshina assumed it was to keep it lit, but it still bothered him that it was given to someone so young.

"Isn't he a bit young to smoke that?" Hoshina inquired as Kafka dropped to his knees with a low groan to be level with the body.

"He's a lot older than you'll ever be able to guess." Kafka chuckled.

He gently pulled the sheet back off of the body and slowly revealed the state of the person underneath. Even after already seeing countless bodies in similar states, Hoshina couldn't help but flinch and avert his eyes for just a second. What lied before Kafka appeared to have been a young woman at one point, but her body had clearly withered away to almost beyond recognizable. Her skin was truly a deep, muddy brown color, close to the same color as wet clay bricks. Her skin pooled around her thin skeleton, reminiscent of someone carelessly tossing a dirty sheet over a pile of sticks. It piled up in places in thin wrinkles and divots while having a dusty, powder-like layer over it all. One could have chalked it up to road dust, but Hoshina was all too familiar with what it actually was. The top layer of the poor victims's skin was just. that. dry.

While Hoshina was doing his best to avoid losing face, Kafka remained undeterred or fazed. He looked up and down the length of the body for several seconds before he pulled the sheet off entirely and got even closer to the body. His hands came up and began to feel around the face, taking great care not to cause any undue damage to the delicate skin. Thin flakes of dried skin still brushed themselves off with each light touch and hung around the corpse like a disgusting cloud. Hoshina could see even the young men behind Kafka were becoming slightly repulsed by the sight.

"Gen! Light!" Kafka suddenly announced without taking his eyes off the body.

The indifferent man behind the bar sighed heavily before he launched himself over the bar table. Before his feet hit the ground, he turned into a bright streak of blue light and came to a stop just above Kafka's head. There was now a floating ball of ghostly, heatless flame just a few inches above the doctor and the cadaver.

"Thank you." Kafka gave in a clipped tone as a hand came up to touch and adjust the ball above his head. He continued down the body and pressed and pulled carefully at the folds of paper thin skin, observing it all with an intense look of concentration.

"Remind me, where are you from again?" Kafka asked as he continued to not directly address his client in exchange for not missing any important detail on the body.

"I come from Tachikawa prefecture. it's down and to the west of here." Hoshina managed to answer without stuttering, paying close attention to Kafka's thorough investigation.

"Tachikawa...Tachikawa..." Kafka rolled the name over his tongue experimentally for a moment before he glanced up at his client, "Shogonate Ashido's land, right?"

"Yes." The commander answered simply.

"Ahh, She's been at the forefront of pushing Japan into a new age. Just recently started adding gas lamps in major city sections, or so I've heard."

"That is correct. She just finished signing off on the approval for the last section due for renovation this coming year." Hoshina confirmed.

Kafka gave a low chuckle as he finished inspecting every available inch of the body before standing back up, "I think I already know what the problem is." He muttered to himself as he turned around to face his partner holding the pipe.

"Iharu, salt it." He ordered as he held his hand out.

The teen in the vest, apparently named Iharu, began to puff on the pipe. He dug around in a small pouch tied to his waist and pulled out a pinch of powder, proceeding to sprinkle it over the end of the pipe as he blew into it a little more, just until the end of the pipe flared a bright green flame for a moment. He handed the pipe back to Kafka with an assuring nod. Kafka took it and squatted back down at the head of the body and sucked in a small amount of the smoke. He blew the pipe's blue and now sparkling smoke over the face of the victim, much to Hoshina's surprise.

"OYE!" Ikaruga objected from his place at the front of the bar. He bolted across the room, but was held back from assaulting the doctor by Hoshina.

"What gives you the right to disrespect the dead?!" Ikaruga shouted as Hoshina continued to restrain him.

"It's not disrespectful if I can learn something from it." Kafka continued to mutter as he turned the full brunt of his focus onto the face of the body.

He continued to stare quite intently at the patterns the trails of smoke made as they brushed across the girl's face. He remained unblinking as the light got caught on the specks of burnt incense and spice that drifted just in front of his piercing gaze. Soon, something important seemed to have caught his attention as his eyes snapped onto some activity around the body's mouth. There, dancing and wafting in tell-tale waves that only he could read, Kafka watched as the smoke just around the mouth took on a suspicious array of cool toned colors. The colors that shone in a spectrum that only he could see melted and pooled over one another in a way that was reminiscent of oil spilling over water. A sly and sure grin broke it's way across Kafka's face as he let out a hearty chuckle in victory.

"Got'cha." He harshly whispered as the last piece to puzzle he was presented with fell right into place.

"You've got a herd of starving Abura Akago on your hands." Kafka shot up from his knees and announced with a booming tone.

"Abura Akago?" Hoshina echoed, "You're talking about Oil Eaters. What do they have anything to do with this?"

"On top of that, they don't even exist!" Ikaruga interjected as well once he heard the answer.

Kafka quirked an eyebrow and threw a side-long glance towards the mystic ball of light still floating three feet above the body. He then dramatically turned and looked directly at Kikoru who he knew all three of them had seen walk out into the room. Finally, he threw his arms out to the sides and gestured to the shelf lined walls that bordered the small shack before sending the exasperated look on his face back to the lieutenant.

"Fine." Ikaruga sighed deeply as he got the unspoken message, "Let's say, hypothetically speaking, we were dealing with a Abura Akago infestation. They eat oil, not human blood."

"She isn't just missing blood." Kafka corrected, "She's missing all the possible moisture she had in her body. If it was just blood, she'd be pale, not this tan color. On top of that, there would still be some measure of plumpness to her skin. There's nothing here. No blood, no water, no nothing. There's no puncture marks either. As far as I can tell, the only point of mystic contact that I can find is here on her mouth." Kafka knelt back down and waved his hand to indicate that the other two should as well, "Look here, and I mean really look. See all those colors wiggling around her mouth? That's mystic contact residue. The color of the contact can help me narrow down what kind of yokai had touched the body last."

Both Hoshina and Ikaruga leaned in as close as they comfortably could as they held the sleeves of their uniforms over their mouths.

"I see nothing." Ikaruga mentioned after he observed as long as he could.

Hoshina took his time before answering. At first all he saw was the blue haze of the smoke thinly blanketing over the woman's face. Then something inside his brain started to twitch, almost like the vibration of a bowstring after it's been fired. Slowly, he could begin to see the colors wafting up from around the mouth just like Kafka talked about.

"I... I think I do." Hoshina hesitantly replied as he focused on the oil-slick smoke.

"That's good." Kafka claimed as he pointed at him with a critical finger, "You've got a better sense of sight than most. Let's see if that keeps you out of trouble."

"I'm sorry, sight?" Ikaruga inquired with a brash tone.

"It just means he's been over-exposed to mystical energies. I mean, that can still be a bad thing because dealing with the unknown can only end in tragedies, but here's hoping that can be avoided." Kafka quickly explained with an animated, apologetic shrug.

"Question; Is it supposed to do that?" Hoshina asked as his gaze bore right into a new development happening over the mouth of the body.

Kafka had to glance at it several times before he truly understood what he was looking at. The oil slick smoke had started to form a small vortex over the mouth, even though there was no wind of breath that should have caused it. His eyes widened to the size of persimmons as he slowly crouch-walked backwards from the body.

"You know, now that I think about it, I don't think I ever got either of your names." Kafka nervously noted as took a drag of his pipe.

"What does that have anything to do with this?" Hoshina reflexively asked.

"Lieutenant Ikaruga and this is Daimyo Hoshina." Ikaruga answered quickly as the muscles in his body tightened in response to Kafka energy.

"Ikaruga, do us a favor and get your commander behind the bar counter." Kafka softly commanded with a harsh rasp, exhaling the smoke. The two clients looked at each other nervously before returning the look back onto Kafka.

"Now!" Kafka reiterated harder as he shot up and stepped back.

Ikaruga finally took the hint and swiftly scooped up his commander and bolted for the bar counter. surprising Kikrou with his speed. As the two of them landed abruptly behind the bar, they were caught off guard again by the sight of the sitting position of Kafka's young charge. Her head was comfortably looking over the counter top, but her back was leaning against the shelves that were under the bar, making her neck twist completely backwards.

"Does that not hurt?" Hoshina found himself asking before he could stop himself.

"No. Rokurokubi necks are near indestructible." She offered matter-of-factly, appearing unbothered by the events going on in the room.

"Do these sorts of events happen often?" Ikaruga asked as he peered nervously over the top of the bar and prepared himself to draw his sword.

"If by "often" you mean only when the old man gets involved with anything, then yeah." She answered dryly, "Don't bother trying to fight with them, your weapons will do nothing useful and you'll just be in the way." She continued as her body animated her thoughts, but her head never left the view of the fight.

Hoshina mirrored his lieutenant's stance and watched the fight as well, seeing Kafka twirling the pipe between his fingers for a moment before switching to gripping it tightly by the mouth piece.

"Everyone! Eyes up and hands at the ready, we've got company!" Kafka commanded as the blue smoke from the pipe started to malevolently swirl around the whole of his hand, "Iharu, get the potion ready! Aoi! Haruichi! Work with Reno to get this thing tied down! Gen!-" The smoke around the hand Kafka held the pipe in had started to grow not only in length but width as well. As he rose it to the ceiling, the fog around it blasted away from it, reveling that the pipe had tuned into a long and narrow peach wood club, covered in iron studs with an unlit lantern bolted to the end of it.

"-Light me up!" He growled the last of his orders just as something began to form in the center of the room.

Hoshina watched as the ghost from earlier streaked over to the lantern in the tetsubo Kafka was holding and making a bright home in there. As he finished completing the spiritual weapon, Hoshina's eyes shifted over to what was forming over the body. Another ball of mystic flame the size of a wagon wheel had appeared, but was colored a disturbingly dark purple and spewed oppressive black smoke. The warped cries of a baby's wails screeched forth from the floating ball, the sound being about as pleasant as sharp nails clawing into freshly cooked terracotta. Hoshina and Ikaruga acted on the instinct to plug their ears, the sound itself eliciting a sense of deep terror and pain their prides were unaccustomed to.

The snow blond man jumped into action, bolting into a circle around the evil entity and somehow summoning bolts of water through the holes in the floor. It was a sight, watching the dark and silty river water pass through the floor and seeing the impurities be literally peeled away to reveal the crisp and crystal water it could be. His hands moved swiftly as he sent several bullets of water towards the fireball, all of them missing due to the speed at which that corrupt pile of energy whipped itself around the room. The ball almost seemed to taunt them, its grating cries feeling almost mocking as it began to tear a path straight towards Kafka, knocking tables and beds along the way. It was no secret that Hoshina was worried, this was all out of his depth, but he would soon learn that while Kafka was a doctor first, he was a formidable man second.

Kafka leapt back at the last second as the fireball aimed towards his feet. The boards splintered from the impact, but that didn't seem to faze the entity in the slightest as it recovered quickly to continue its hellbent path towards Kafka. Steadfast and unshaken, Kafka stared down the incoming force with a rivaling fire in his eyes as he reared back the weapon in his hands. He swung wide as the ball came close, the two unmovable forces making explosive contact in the center of the room. While such an act should have at least caused the more ball-like object to go flying away, the strength of the unholy mass seemed to have a strength of its own on par with the doctor's.

While the two were stuck in a battle of strength, chaos was reined in the other corners of the room. Iharu was striding on jets of flame that came from his feet as he went from drawer to drawer around the walls of the room, searching for ingredients and stuffing them into the dried calabash Hoshina had seen on the table earlier. The taller, darker man had produced several lengths of rope that were looped on one end and had tossed one to his green haired companion. They were swinging the looped ends in the air with patience and precision, waiting for their moment to strike. The blond one had moved off to the side and stood perpendicular to the two with rope, also holding his action.

The cries from the dark fireball grew in volume as Kafka visibly strained from the force of holding it back. A low, laborious growl could be heard cutting through the sickening cries as Hoshina witnesses a new energy forming around Kafka. A new, green smoke began to swirl around his feet and slowly circled their way upwards, Small flashes of lightning arced through the clouds and appeared to strengthen Kafka in his battle for dominance, making the muscles and veins in his arms grew more and more strained. With a victorious cry and another wave of light, the ominous ball of mystic energy was finally sent flying backwards and into the front wall of the bar. The two with rope made their move and quickly landed their loops over the dark fireball, the rope tightening securely around it while somehow not burning.

The two of them wrapped their ends of the rope around themselves and began to try and pull the force of darkness back towards Kafka and the woman. The blond one started to command the water again, this time forming several tendrils and having them wrap around the entity as well. All three of them fought against the opposing pull as the sinister force started another battle of willpower against them. Grunts and growls of exertion filled the empty spaces the wails of the spirit didn't fill, The ropes were all pulled tight, but it was clear between the three of them that they didn't have enough strength to budge the dark force in any direction. Hoshina glanced back at Kafka to see if he was going to help, but with him looking fit to collapse through the floor, it was clear that the battle of strength took a little more than expected.

As the wood on the floor creaked and began to splinter around the fighting group's feet, Hoshina started to consider if there was any way for him to help contribute to this losing fight. Just as Hoshina turned to discuss their chances of helping, Kikoru leapt up over the counter and blindly sprinted toward the commotion.

"Kikoru don't-" Kafka gravely called out as he tried to prop himself off of his knees using his club, but was quickly interrupted.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She countered stoutly as she started to swing her head around like a weighted rope.

Lining herself up with the other three members, she swung her head around until it flew in the direction of the corrupted yokai. He neck not only stretched to such an incredible length, but had wrapped itself around the dark fireball and held its position securely. Now with all four of them working together, they were able to make some progress and managed to shift the position of the entity how they wanted to. Kafka was visibly sweating by the time he recovered from his brief battle with the corrupted Abura Akago. With a heaving chest, he wiped his brow and straightened back up. Reading his weapon one more time, he called out over to Iharu who was still searching for things to shove into the drinking gourd.

"Hurry up over there! They can't handle much more of this!" Kafka shouted over the increased wails of the mystic entity.

"Almost got it! Tell them to get it over the body!" Iharu shouted back as he flew up to look at a higher town of shelves.

"Easier said than done!" The blond one countered with palpable strain in his voice.

Between the four of them, they successfully managed to drag and pull the dark Abura over the chest of the woman. They had locked their heels into some of the several holes in the floor as they continued to struggle with restraining the vile mass screaming in its hold. Kafka had cycled around until he came to the head of the body and jammed the handle of his weapon into the floor. Hoshina watched as the green smoke from earlier pooled around Kafka's feet again while he chanted an unfamiliar language in a deep cadence. His hands shook from an invisible force as they moved from one set of hand signs to another.

"Kikoru! You're gonna need to move!" Kafka called out to be heard over the higher volume of the screeching cries.

"Not! Until! Iharu! Is! READY!" Kikoru defiantly cried back as the smoke from the Abura caused her throat to scratch and her eyes to water.

"IHARU!" Kafka's voice boomed as a clear warning to the intended recipient.

"I GOT IT!" Iharu called back once he stuffed the last ingredient into the drinking bottle.

He shook it violently as he flew through the air of jets of flame. Dramatically spinning across the air into position, he took a few swings into his mouth as he stopped above the feet of the woman. Summoning a flicker of fire to his pointer finger, he waited just until Kafka finished the last hand signal and Kikoru's head was a safe enough distance away before he committed to the most absurd action Hoshina thanks he will ever see. The infused alcohol in Iharu's mouth spewed forth in a precise stream through the fire on his finger, passing through the other side in an explosive jet stream of disproportional size. The fire seems to hit its mark as the screams of the corrupted yokai grew painful and cacophonous at an alarming rate.

The flames didn't last forever, just long enough that the screams died down to a startlingly quiet degree. Once the ropes that held the dark force in place had dropped on their own accord did everyone, including the clients, let out a sigh of relief. Hoshina pulled himself to his full height behind the bar just in time to watch everyone slowly crowd around the woman they just held a yokai over and spat fire at. Suddenly and without warning, the woman on the bed sat up and started screaming, scaring everybody around her into screaming with her. Kafka reflexively grabbed his tetsubo out of its place in the floor and hit the woman over the head, quickly sending her back to sleep.

"What the hell Kafka?!" The dark man in the tan military uniform shouted at his commander.

"I panicked!" Kafka countered defensively, clutching the club tight to his chest.

"You've done this before though!" The one in chainmail said to defeat the defense.

"And yet I still panic. Every. Time." Kafka sighed pathetically as he doubled down on his excuse, "Besides, it's not like this doesn't make her easier to handle now. At least we've got a chance to break everything down slowly after she's had a good nap." Kafka proposed as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Is it safe to approach?" Hoshina tentatively inquired as he started to round the counter.

Kafka threw a look back over his shoulder once he heard the voice. He tried to hold back a sigh once he realized there were strangers in the room and just settled for shaking the club off to the side, an indication for the ghost inside to leave. Once Gen left the lantern and drifted back over to his place at the bar, Kafka addressed the rest of his group.

"Speaking of naps, let's take five. Dinner's on them." Kafka suggested as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to point at the startled travelers.

"Kikoru, follow me for a second." He continued as he shifted his weapon back into his smoking pipe and walked over to the back wall.

"I'll be back to deal with you shortly." Kafka tiredly finished as he walked away with his young helper in tow.

Understanding the need for space and recovery, Hoshina left Kafka alone and instead focused his attention on the newly rejuvenated woman lying in the bed close to them. Him and Ikaruga slowly approached the bed, silently hoping for there not to be a repeat of what went down just a few seconds ago. Ikaruga came up to the bed first, coming up to kneel by the woman's head. He felt unsure about the whole thing, about whether of not what he just saw was true or just a byproduct of all the insanity of today. A shaky hand gently encroached on the woman's, lightly brushing across the now rosy colored knuckles. Hoshina heard a small gasp as Ikaruga took the hand, amazed at how warm and soft it was again. Once he was the tears well up in his lieutenant's gaze, Hoshina decided it was time to give him some breathing room.

While this went down, Kafka walked over to the wall of shelves and tapped the end of his pipe on a random drawer. The wall of drawers began to shift and rotate over one another, becoming a living maze of sliding red boxes or a sentient puzzle box. After a moment of time, one drawer pushed itself out from the others and unfolded itself, revealing a simple, squat, round, iron tin with a matching lid. Putting the pipe in his mouth and taking the tin, Kafka turned around and addressed the long necked girl behind him.

"Let me see your neck." He requested bluntly.

"W-w-what? My neck is fine old man!" Kikoru stuttered as she tried to deflect the attention as she presented her pristine neck.

Clearly not one for such evasive behavior, Kafka rapidly lunged out and snagged the available portion of Kikrou's neck. The action caused a choked gasp from her throat but it wasn't out of true pain, just shock. His grip was still gentle as he rudely yanked up on her neck to reveal a portion of it covered in dark, purplish scars. Kafka let out an exhausted sigh as he thumbed off the lid, intending for it to drop to the floor. The sigh he released from around the pipe in his mouth also released a small cloud, from which a small portion of it managed to capture the lid before it could fully drop and brought it up to where he rested the rest of the jar. His fingers gathered a rather large dollup and brought the cool ointment up to the affected area.

"You know I worry about you. Jumping into danger like that." Kafka softly spoke as he gently brushed the cream on her neck, his hand not gripping it anymore, but more so cradled her head off to the side.

"Don't lecture me over this. It was clear you lot were struggling to wrangle it this time and you needed Gen to stay in the lantern." Kikoru fired back, the bite in the statement softened with her tone.

"Look." Kafka sighed again as he gathered the strength to speak, "I get it, jumping into the line of fire is something you can't separate from yourself." He finished rubbing the ointment in until the creamy white streaks it left behind were absorbed into the blemished skin, "But you have to understand that I have to keep you safe. Not out of obligation or moral standing, but because I need too. I can't stand to see unnecessary pain, whether I ask for it or not."

Kafka began to gently massage at her neck, slowly coaxing into back into her shoulders until it reached its original length. Once Kikrou could more or less look him in the eye, did those same hands come back up to her cheeks and effectively trapped them in their unusual warmth.

"I made promises, Kikoru. I intend to keep all of them." He said as his thumbs made gentle passes over her cheeks. His stalwart gaze was met with one of tolerant contempt on her end.

"Go help Reno and Iharu with the beds. Make sure that idiot sits down at some point as well." He requested as his hands dropped to her shoulders and affectionately squeezed at them.

Kikoru tucked her hands into her long sleeves and shuffled herself over to where the other men were busying themselves with reorganizing the destruction the Abura Akago caused. Her absence was quickly filled by Hoshina's, his presence an intrusive, but welcome chance.

"Daimyo Hoshina, right? You want some tea?" Kafka gruffly asserted, drawing himself up to his full height and appeared to have sucked in his gut a little.

Not waiting for an answer, Kafka turned and took the pipe back out of his mouth while grabbing the still floating jar out of the air. He placed the jar back on the offering drawer which caused it to shoot back into its slot. Tapping the drawer face again made the wall perform the mystifying dance all over again, its movement stunning Hoshina into unintentionally continued silence. While it went on, Kafka tapped the pipe on other pieces of furniture to make them transform into something more appropriate for a meeting. Two beds finished turning into a table and a set of chairs just as the wall neatly spat out a tea set with a steaming pot and matching cups. Kafka landed himself unceremoniously into the left chair and puffed out another cloud of smoke, this one gathering the tea set and placing it on the table between them.

"Sorry about the event. An unfortunate staple when it comes to receiving my help." Kafka groaned as he eased himself into the confines of the chair, "Consider it rude of me, but I assume you have questions." He suggested as Hoshina seemed distant while sitting his his own seat.

"Hm? Oh several, but-" Hoshina started as he refocused on the man in front of him.

"Ask them then." Kafka interrupted as he chomped back down on the pipe.

"Excuse me?" Hoshina hastily fired back, unused to being interrupted.

"Ask them now while you can. People have a tendency to... perish... from what they don't know when it comes to working with me." Kafka explained with a weary look, becoming clear from his tone that this was an often occurrence.

Hoshina looked taken aback for a moment before he regained his bearings, remembering what he wanted to ask, "Why are the Abura Akago attacking us like this? According to legend, they more or less only drink lamp oil, not human blood."

"Abura Akago are sentimental creatures." Kafka started as he sucked and puffed on his pipe, "Once they settle in an area, they do their best not to leave. If their food source runs out, they search around and see if there's anything they could substitute for lamp oil, typically leaning towards honey or pond scum. They're not really particular about taste, so much as similar consistency"

Hoshina thought back to his town and how it was set up. It's a fairly land-locked area with few lakes close by. Their main water source is a series of wells and irrigation runoff from the mountains. As for honey, they don't typically participate in extensive trade, being a more war like region focused on mercenary work.

"None of which we have in great supply. Still, it feels like a big jump from lamp oil to blood." Hoshina assessed while deep in thought.

"It is. But I'm sure the feeling of a systemic shutdown of one's largest supply of food is sure to make one act rash." Kafka noted.

"Systemic shutdown?" Hoshina questioned quietly, wondering why Kafka would phrase it like that.

He thought back to the examination and how Kafka brought up the new gas lamps being installed. Once that came to mind, the rest of the answer came devastatingly quickly. Replacing all the lamps in the whole of Tachikawa completely removed the only possible source of food for the Abura Akago. With all the oil gone and nothing else remotely close to the sensation of oil, the next best target in abundance would be human blood."

"Gods help us all." Hoshina gasped once it all came together in front of him. He never thought such a decision could cause such irrevocable damage.

"Eh, don't beat yourself up over it. Honestly? Having that many Abura in one area was going to be a problem sooner or later. Yeah, the situations's a little fucked, but think of it this way- all those corrupted Abura are going to disappear once we shove all the moisture they stole back into the bodies they took it from.

"Speaking of the affected. I hope you don't mind me asking this, but how is she alive? No one should have been able to come back from that." Hoshina continued to ask once he recovered a little from the shock of the information he was presented with.

"Okay, if I'm going into that, I'm going to have to use a lot of small words-no offence." Kafka began as he rubbed at his nose bridge, "It's a bit of an odd subject is all." He took the pipe out of his mouth and used the smoke from it to summon glasses of tea for himself as his guest before he started talking.

"Let's start with "The Body Has a Soul". Now, whether or not it should really be called that is up in the air, but lets use it for now. Now, one's soul technically never exists in most situations. It's not located in any specific part of the body, nor does it exist throughout one. There is no way to quantify one's soul and yet you can be positive most people have one. Why? The second one is exposed to the super-unnatural conditions created by mystic forces it appears. Yes, yokai count but they're not the only example and I'd be getting ahead of myself."

"In your victim's case, the soul became two things at once- One, it acted as a back-up copy of what makes her, well, her. Her likes, dislikes, what she's naturally like, the soul keeps a portion of all that. Should she have fully died, that section of her is what finally disappears and makes her really dead in a sense. But, since it managed to stick around, it was able to perform function Two- keeping her alive against all odds. When hyper-exposed to mystic energy, to the point anyone should have died, the soul can sometimes kick in and act as a battery. Under certain conditions, like what you just saw earlier, it is possible to save what's left of the body to the point the soul can cover any inconsistencies and go back to technically not existing."

"Did you get all that? Aaaanything you want me to clear up?" Kafka took a break from explaining to make sure his guest was following along.

"No, I think I got it." Hoshina affirmed as he took a sip of tea, "The only comparison I could make was that it's like moisture in the air, but for the body, but that felt like a weak analogy."

"No, no, that's a good starting point." Kafka assured as he puffed a little more on his pipe.

"Do you really have to smoke so much?" Hoshina asked next as he watched Kafka roll up his sleeves on his yukata.

"Have to. it's the only thing keeping this thing from tearing me up inside." The doctor answered as a hand came up to rub at the broad scar on his chest, the action parting the sides of his outfit and letting Hoshina get a more detailed look at it.

The scar looked more and more interesting the longer he looked at it. He initially thought it was just a flat plain of ruined tissue laid over his pecs, but that wasn't the case. The scar was rippled in strange patterns, ridges and divots cobbled together in an abstract fashion to form what looked like a snarling oni mask. The spider-webbed scars bleeding out from it were old lightning scars, highlighted in yellows and purples like they were still healing. Hoshina soon found out that he wasn't wrong, that the scar did pulse with a strange light, causing the injury to beat in time with what could be thought to be Kafka's heartbeat.

"Did... did it hurt? Whatever that happened to have caused that?" Hoshina asked quietly, almost regretting the question. Of course that had to have hurt, it looked like a bomb went off on his chest.

Kafka just chuckled as he took a sip of tea, "A little. Not as much as you would think. Don't regret getting it either."

"Oh?" Hoshina asked simply, letting Kafka answer at his own pace.

"I like what I do here. For all the trouble, for all the damage I inadvertently cause most days, I usually find all the pain worth it in the end." The doctor ruminated as he glanced over to where Ikaruga was still stationed, still kneeling besides the patient.

"I don't think I'd be able to feel like this anywhere else." His eyes carried a message of acceptance while the corners of his lips held a sense of humor. Whatever that joke was that he carried, Hoshina felt it would be better understood at another time.

"I hope, in both our cases, that won't change in the coming days." Hoshina replied with an air of intention.

"Ahh, finally getting to the business end of things, are we?" Kafka chuckled as he refocused on his guest, "Well then, lay it on me."

A lot of thoughts went through Hoshina's mind then. They started off about the doctor and his apparent penchant for chaos when he works. Then cut back to how much trouble he had already gone through just to find this agent of entropy in the first place. In the end, it all came back around to why and the how of it all. Why he was here and how he had stooped to such levels of desperation. Every second he wasted here was another second closer to night in his city. Every second was another he wasn't dragging this man back to help those affected by the corrupted misfortune plaguing his hometown. The man before him might bring a waking disaster upon his town, but it was clear he was the only one left that could fix what others couldn't. Before Hoshina burned all the bridges and committed to acts best left for the condemned, he figured he'd plead his case to the best of his abilities first.

Putting his tea cup off to the side, Hoshina drew up the willpower within him to kneel before what could only be his town's savior, "Doctor, as I've mentioned before, my town-" He tried to talk and slide off of his seat so he could offer more respect, but was rudely interrupted by the feeling of a wooden floorboard connecting to the bottom of his chin.

"Ah, ah, ah! We will not be having that in my house." Kafka harshly countered as he let his foot drop the board.

"E-excuse me?!" Hoshina chided as he rubbed the bottom of his chin, sitting himself back in the chair.

"There will be no begging, bribery, or theatrics in my bar. If you've got a problem, you're gonna be honest, you're gonna be true, and you're gonna be level about it." Kafka recited as he projected a fierce glare at Hoshina, leaning forward until he rested his elbows on his knees, "Got it?"

The intensity of the eye contact made it clear to Hoshina that this was a personal agenda of Kafka's. Clearing his throat, Hoshina tried to tell his story.

"As I was trying to say, she's not the only case. There are several overflowing wards back in Tachikawa, filled to the brim with people in states just like her's. We're willing to provide anything we can to save whoever's left. I'll be honest, if I hadn't witnessed what happened here today, I would have left thinking that all those that had reached that state were all gone. You have just given us a sense of hope we never thought we'd feel." Hoshina mirrored Kafka stance and leaned forward as well, their forehead's almost touching, "Can I ask you to bring this hope back to our town?"

Kafka let out another chuckle, this one darker toned than the last as his lips split into a dangerous grin, "Hoooo, You do realize just what you're asking, don't cha'?"

Hoshina closed his eyes as he took a deep sigh, already trying to prepare for the inevitable hellstorm he would be inviting into the borders of his town, "Unfortunately, this is from the bottom of my heart."

Kafka just continued to chuckle as he stood up, eventually stopping to take a long drag from his pipe. Something felt off about this time however, as Hoshina observed the events while still in the chair. The smoke that left his mouth this time wasn't a dark, powdery, and glimmering blue that Hoshina had come to assume what the indication of Kafka's magic, but now a brighter, more unnatural shade of mint green. The smoke continued to swirl around him almost violently, rising in height and width to match the now oppressive energy coming from the new presence. Before the smoke came close enough to swallow Hoshina into it, it blasted away from what was originally Kafka. In his place now stood a much, much larger being.

Tall enough it could hit it's head on the eaves of a house, it's towering presence felt crushing even though it was just standing in front of him. Skin black as jet and looking tougher than shark skin, its form was broad and substantial when considering the arms as wide as trees and a stomach large enough to comfortably fit a whole roast pig. The white yukata was stretched to its limit across the immense chest and framed a star-like mark that showcased a vast array of swirling, vibrant colors. Paning up to its face, it was a mishmash of primal, animalistic features. A cracked stone mask, curved tusks longer than thumbs, two curved horns as wicked as sickles, a fluffy mane of white and spiky hair, and glowing aquamarine eyes with rings that rippled like waves in a pond. A familiar pipe jutted out from the side of it's mouth, the only connecting evidence that the beast before Hoshina could still be Kafka.

"If you're so damn sure about this, I'm about to be your huckleberry." Kafksa's new voice carried with it a rumbling tone, like ocean waves bashung against cliffs but hadn't lost that undercurrent of personal humor.

"Whether you like it or not." He continued as he leaned in real close to Hoshina's face, really driving home the sheer difference of size and strength.

The eyes held him in a near hypnotic state, making the few seconds of close contact stretch out into near minutes. Before he knew it, Kafka leaned back and pulled the pipe out of his mouth.

"I've got some other people I need to notify that I'm leaving before I can make some headway on the road. It'll only take a second, but after that I'll be racing you to the palace." Kafka turned and walked over to the wall for drawers and tapped against them again. This time, instead of spitting out an item, the walls opened up a doorway big enough to reveal a view of the river behind the shed as well as a back porch.

"Oh! Before you get started on leaving, I have to ask this. Does the palace have any sort of pond? Large... water feature?" Kafka drawled as he asked, waving the pipe around as an matching gesture.

"Th-there's a fishing nursery in the Northern quarter." Hoshina answered as he recovered quickly from the shock.

"Perfect." Kafka winked as the wall of drawers closed up behind him.

Hoshina promptly grabbed Ikaruga and convinced him to leave the patient in their care. They flagged down one of Kafka's assistants from earlier and asked them to open the door, letting them know that their employer was making plans to join them on their return trip to the palace in Tachikawa. Choosing to not question the development of their faces turning into various versions of nauseous for the sake of brevity, Hoshina and his lieutenant walked down the long boardwalk toward their accompanying army. However, it seems that Kafka's chaotic presence wasn't done tormenting them just yet. Their only warning was the cacophony of wooden boards creaking and groaning.

Turning back, the two of them witnessed the strangest sight. The walkway behind them had started to buckle and pull upwards, sending a small hill rippling in their direction. Not wanting to be caught by the obstacle, the two of them had quickly booked it for the end of the walkway, screaming from shock. As their feet hit the dirt, the path was pulled out from under them and sent them falling face first into the dirt. As they pulled each other up, they observed the most impossible sight.

The long walkway had formed the long neck of a crane. The porch that wrapped around the outside of the dilapidated shed had started to crack and pop as it unfolded into the shape of wings. The several posts that held the shed above the water condensed into two thin and spindly legs, one of which bent itself back so it could bring its mud and water stained foot up to the bank. As the shed rose up to imposing height, the wings crackled and shook as they stretched, sending large splinters to rain down on the unsuspecting army. The army moved to retaliate, pulling out weapons and drawing back bows with the intent to maim.

"Hold your fire, HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Hoshina ordered as he put himself in between his army and the shed-turned-giant bird.

While he was busy with that, a loud crashing sound rang out from the wooden bird. Hoshina turned to see Kafka in his beastly form propelling himself through the roof of the shed in a wide arc, aiming for the head of the crane. Upon closer inspection, Hoshina could see a curved protrusion on the back of the bird's head, possibly replicating a saddle. Kafka soared through the air and landed solidly on the attached chair, the weight of the impact causing the bird's head to thrash around and cry out in surprise. After Kafka grabbed the reigns and commanded the bird to move forward a little more, he made his mount lower his head just a little so Hoshina could hear him better.

"Lazing about in the mud is a good look for you Mr. Daimyo! But don't keep your people waiting!" Kafka teasingly slurred as he whipped the reigns attached to the bird's head.

The wooded crane took a couple thundering steps forward, one stride easily covering the whole length of the village they were in, before flapping its fragile sounding wings and taking off into the sky. The murmurs of the men filled the silence that was left after the enigmatic beast of legend took to the skies.

"What have we done?" Ikaruga muttered as he watched the mystical bird fly closer and closer to the horizon.

Hoshina, however, was trying his best to not collapse over in laughter. In such a short time, he found the saving grace to his city but it was wrapped up in the most dangerous bow. The path to hell may be paved with good intentions, but he found out today that the company one can make certainly makes the journey much more interesting. He could only imagine what the Shogunate's face is going to contort into once he comes back and unveils their beacon of hope. In order to see it though, he has to catch up to a monstrous wooden bird.

"Get me a horse." Hoshina commanded, the perverted joy in his grin making several of his officers uncomfortable.

###############

Okay- sound off on everyone's powers.

Reno is a selkie with water bending powers. He's got a chronic pain problem that he pushed through more than necessary. Close to a cure.

Iharu is a half djinn that was trapped in a lamp. Kafka immediately wished for him to be free and now he feels indebted to him. Acts a potion maker and spice/herb/medicinal plant dealer.

Kikoru is a rokurokubi and is the daughter of the emperor Isao. Rokurokubi lore is kinda like “The sins of the father are past on to the son” But if it only affected their daughters. Idk I feel like Isao would have enough skeletons in the closet to make this happen. Either way she's here to stay out of the public eye and so Kafka can work on a cure for her state

Gen is a Greek Ghost from Pompeii. No one can speak Greek (except for Kafka) but he seems unwilling to talk about how he ended up here.

Haruichi is a Leper knight from the Crusades cursed with immortality by a witch. Cured the leprosy / Still working on the immortality.

And Aoi is just... American. He's from the Wild West and is a Buffalo Soldier Medic but as of right now he's just normal. Think Dr. Sweets from Atlantis the Lost Empire. Direct Copy/Paste honestly. Was/and still considering making him a werewolf.

Not here but honorable mention -> Hakua and Minase. Chinese Hopping Vampires that have since undergone SEVERE physical therapy and are now fisher woman / river smugglers. They were gifted an enchanted boat that, when flipped over, it transports them to any water source big enough to house a boat. Since Kafka works non-profit the girls end up having to steal him a lot of shit.

Aaaaand Kafka! A Magical Oni Doctor with a magical mask buried in his chest. Haven't fully fleshed out how that happened.

#Youtube #This is basically House MD meets Japanese supernatural the AU #The reason the song is there is because it was the catalyst that started this. I know its a euphamisim about sex but my brain couldn't stop #it started off as a joke and now here we are.#You know this was shorter in my head. Ah well.#I spent the whole day today on whether or not I go back through and change Ikaruga to Ebira instead #because I read more of the exclusive today and Ebira seems like a better fit for the role I put Ikaruga in.#But its already late and I just wanna be done with this.#Im sorry Ikaruga I made you racist.#I had already written several paragraphs where Kikoru and Gen were actually brother and sister from Greece #but my brain seemed really dedicated to adding a rokurokubi in here. It was actually going to be the main villain #but then I did research and found the Abura Akago.#kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 #kaiju no.8 #kaiju number 8 #kn8 #kaiju n8 #kaiju no. eight #kaijuu no. 8 #kaijuu 8 gou #kaijuu number 8 #kn8 fanfic #fanfiction

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