Yokai Calling

11. Aihi

6

Aihi

Aihi sought blood when she and the twins arrived at the Tsukiko Guard barracks.

At the front desk, the attendant sorted through papers rather than addressing the four teenagers. One would not expect the heir of the Warlock Throne to arrive unannounced in this humble city, but seldom did Aihi bask in the privilege of her titles when travelling for leisure. Under the guise of a regular person, she still expected a modicum of respect from Suzuki Chika, Captain Todoroki Akihiro’s personal assistant.

Aihi cleared her throat. “I will see Captain Todoroki at once.”

“The Captain is indis—” Chika met Aihi’s glare at last, and her eyes widened with recognition. In an instant, she was on her knees, sinking her forehead to the tatami floor several times as she spoke. “E-Exalted Dragon P-Princess, I—”

“Enough. I need answers, and I need them now.”

“Of course, Your Exaltation, a-anything you require.”

“Bring me to Captain Todoroki.”

Chika cringed and managed to make her already petite form smaller on the ground. “I am afraid that is not possible. Please, if there is anything else I can do….”

As the crown princess, few dared refuse Aihi’s demands. Her authority was a weapon she was trained to use well: of course, respecting the people and considering the consequences of her orders. Equally were her people prepared to obey.

Aihi held no reservations about using such a weapon when necessary, though it brought her no joy for this woman to cower, terrified of a punishment Aihi would not inflict.

If she were to guess, Chika did nothing more than follow the orders of a man less reserved about abusing authority than Aihi. This wasn’t her first encounter with Akihiro, the Tsukiko Guard Captain, but this was the only time with dire circumstances.

“As Captain of the Tsukiko Guard, Todoroki Akihiro is servant to our Benevolent Emperor’s will,” Aihi said. “He will not refuse my summons, and you will not bar me from him. This is an urgent matter that should have been addressed long before my arrival.”

Chika had her face pressed so close to the ground that she muffled her words. “The Captain is—is—please, forgive me, Your Exaltation. He is not in Tsukiko; I cannot bring you to him.”

That wasn’t the answer Aihi expected. She rolled her shoulders back, reorienting her train of thought to face a new set of problems. “So Captain Todoroki neglects his post and the people under his watch. Tell me, where did he go?”

“I don’t know.” Chika shook her head, the knot of hair at the back of her head jerking with each movement. “I know n-nothing. I swear. I swear on the Goddess’ love.”

The grunts of sparring guards from the courtyard filled the silence between them. The Dragon Goddess was Seiryuu’s supreme deity, their lawmaker and spiritual guardian. She switched from benevolence to cruelty as it suited her; she would drown an infant in her infinite seas as quick as she would heal one of a terminal illness—it was her way. The chaos of life.

A liar would not invoke the power of the Goddess to trial her guilt. Rarely did she enact favourable judgement upon those who called to her; many times in the audience chambers of the emperor had Aihi witnessed Shirashi’s wrath incinerate the untruthful and unworthy from the heavens.

Ash and the scent of ozone were all that lingered in the aftermath.

“Calling upon the Goddess is no trivial matter. In the future, I suggest you stay your tongue unless you crave the burn of her displeasure,” Aihi said. “When did Captain Todoroki leave?”

“Six days ago, d-during chūjun.”

The Seiryan calendar divided each month into three ten-day periods called jun. Chūjun referred to the middlemost phase; the Midsummer Festival took place during gejun in the last days of Snake’s Month. When it became Horse’s Month in three days, the cycle began again with jōjun, the first ten-day period.

“You expect us to believe he missed the Midsummer Festival?” Masanori said as he came up beside Aihi. “This is the busiest time of year in Tsukiko. I’m sure the Guard is stretched thin enough without these extra incidents.”

“Extra incidents?” Chika risked lifting her head to look at him, but her eyes flickered across Aihi, the twins, and Torra.

“He refers to the kidnapping we reported last night. The one which the Tsukiko Guard has yet to investigate,” Hidekazu said.

“I did all I could. I am merely an assistant; I have no power to decide what tasks are prioritized in Captain Todoroki’s absence.”

While true, Aihi had a keen understanding of the power of personal secretaries. They held far more knowledge and power than they often gave themselves credit for—as did the people around them.

Aihi levelled her gaze on the woman. “The Goddess has already been merciful today. Do you truly wish to push our luck?”

“N-no.”

“Then tell me: has a similar incident been reported before?”

Chika’s eyes flashed, and she lowered her head back to the floor.

Her silence was all Aihi needed: the Tsukiko Guard had ignored the report, and Chika could not explain why.

“I require Captain Todoroki’s files at once. Shirashi’s daughters are under assault, and I will not allow his delinquency to impede our investigation further. Have I made myself clear?”

“Should he have any notes on the matter, they will be stored in his office, but the door is spellcoded. Even I cannot get in.”

Aihi swept around the prostrated woman and to the office door. A locked door—spell, key, or otherwise—would not stop her from retrieving those files. When she reached the familiar fusuma painted with the half-moon of the Tsukiko Guard, the faint flicker of energy showed the true barrier between her and Akihiro’s office.

She held a hand to the door. Warmth swept through Aihi’s body as she called to her inner strength, her ki. Along her arms and shoulders, the crimson dragon tattoos that concentrated her power lit up as they deciphered her goal to unlock the door. Few majyu possessed the ability to cast spells without encoding their intentions in kigou, the written language of the Goddess. Such was possible for those who received an irezumi, a tattoo which instead melded purpose and power, inscribing ancient symbols onto their flesh to be called at will.

Only those who proved their loyalty and skill to the Goddess through the bushido tenets received such a prize.

Energy hummed through Aihi’s veins, and the spell to decode the barriers on the door came into focus. She funnelled ki through her fingers and delicate threads connected to the fabric cover, twisting and turning under her direction. A spellcode was a puzzle that not even the greatest majyu could unlock without due care; depending on the protections applied to the object in question, a single misstep could be disastrous.

She aligned the threads of the coded spell, unravelling the layers one at a time. Her irezumi, the blood-red of a royal, came equipped with the tools to simplify such unweaving. No door was supposed to be locked to her. Yet the energy within the spell surged against her fingertips, resisting the ki she supplied to enact her determination.

A flicker of explosive orange shimmered in the back of her mind. A second later, it became reality, bulging within the woven energies of the door.

Burning.

Aihi hissed and drew her hand back. All at once, her work to unravel the spell uncoiled and returned to its proper place. She blinked away the whiteness behind her eyes, a discomfort that had grown into searing pain without her notice.

“You’re hurt.” Torra cradled Aihi’s throbbing hand, dripping healing essence into the minor burn, enough to numb the injury for now. “I’ve never seen you fail to unlock a door before.”

For a moment, Torra’s touch brought Aihi back to that morning, to intimacies explored before Hidekazu and Masanori arrived with dire news of the kan’thir. Now those memories of Aihi and Torra were locked behind the steel doors of disappointment, Aihi’s frustration of Torra’s blind trust.

A hint of darkness lingered in the back of Aihi’s senses from her attempt to unlock the door. Or was that just her disappointment and irritation clouding her judgement?

No. It was a shadow she recognized, the same that barred her from picking up the kan’thir’s trail in the Crimson Gardens.

“The door has been tampered with,” Aihi said. “We need the proper spellcode to enter without detonating the protections on the whole building.”

But who would be foolish enough to tamper with the spellcoded door of the Guard Captain? It had to be the kan’thir, looking to cover his tracks. He must have known that Akihiro had evidence of the attacks in Tsukiko.

What if, on his failure to crack the door, he slew Akihiro instead, leaving the people none the wiser?

“Spellcodes always have at least two guardians,” Hidekazu said. “Who else has the combination?”

Chika’s eyes lingered on Torra. “Benri Yui.”

Torra cursed under her breath. “Of course.”

When Aihi learned of how Torra never told her about her suspicions regarding the strange events in Tsukiko, her first instinct had been anger. Even after visiting the scene of the latest kidnapping, where they gathered more evidence of the Tsukiko Guard’s neglect, Aihi couldn’t help but pin responsibility on the Benri clan. And, thus, Torra.

They were responsible for the wellbeing of Tsukiko, more so than the Tsukiko Guard. Aihi tried to keep reminding herself how not everyone had the inclination to stick herself in business where people didn’t believe she belonged. If Torra’s parents told her nothing was wrong, Torra would have trusted them until given justification to believe otherwise.

At this point, Aihi had no real evidence that the Benri clan had anything to do with covered-up disappearances or Todoroki Akihiro’s mismanagement of the Tsukiko Guard. For Torra’s sake, however, Aihi had hoped to avoid involving her family further. It was cleaner that way.

Aihi folded her hands behind her back. “Apologies, Lady Benri. It seems I will require an audience with Benri Yui after all.”

“As you wish, Your Exaltation. I am certain my mother will be pleased to greet you at the Lotus Estate.”

Torra’s bow was stiff, formal to match Aihi’s tone. The opposite of how they’d been in each other’s arms only hours before, eager to release the heat in their bodies to the music only lovers could make. Racing to unwind before the crack of dawn, like so many times before.

But last night was the first where they made commitments and promises.

Now, steel doors closed over Aihi’s sentiment as reality threatened the impulsive words whispered at the height of passion. Desires she still wanted to grab onto and hold close before her position as heir to the throne ripped them away again.