Chapter 5 #2
At least that was Ryuichi’s first thought, until he remembered the tengu had the ability to create such an intimidating structure like this out of thin air using their yōkai magic.
There were four towers at the corners that rose high into the sky.
The white walls loomed large, while the black eaves and a green roof were the only touch of color to be found.
But when they entered the building and Ryuichi got a closer look, he noticed the walls weren’t white. They were made of millions of tiny moonstones. As for the roof tiles, they appeared to be from actual dragon scales.
As Ryuichi walked through the doors and into the fortress, he glanced around at the bustling yōkai, who strangely reminded him of humans running errands.
Only these weren’t humans. They were creatures made of all manner of items. Lanterns, cutlery, twisted human bodies . . . It was impossible to describe them all.
Katsu walked them through the impressive castle gardens. Each corner was dedicated to a specific season, with different temperate zones and foliage that would thrive in it. Four seasons, all in one place.
The chirping of cicadas echoed all around, while the aroma of cherries lingered everywhere Ryuichi turned.
He had never seen anything like this.
“Is that really snow just beyond the cherry blossoms?”
Katsu nodded. “Of course.”
Incredible.
Especially once he saw the cherry blossoms come alive, giggling happily as Ryuichi and his crew ambled by.
As they headed toward a set of humungous gilded doors, Ryuichi paused, wanting to say goodbye to their tengu guide who had brought them here safely. But he had already blended into the crowd and was gone like a wisp.
Perhaps that was his intent.
From what Ryuichi knew, tengu preferred to work as a unit. To be the collective force that brought down whatever prey they sought.
They were heavenly warbirds, a fighting force sent out at the command of the gods.
This recent mission of theirs was an aberration, at best.
Ryuichi kept that in mind as the gilded doors slid open silently, another sign of the castle’s enchantment. When he and his company entered, they removed their shoes and placed them in a neat row, so as not to dirty the black and green tatami mats.
The large, bright yellow room was decorated with katanas, calligraphy scrolls, and paintings of yōkai and mountain settings.
At the far end, a large tengu in a blue hakama sat cross-legged on a cushion in front of a table.
Nervously drinking tea, he frowned at his feather-covered hands, which were shaking so badly he could barely keep the liquid inside his cup.
Frustrated, he gently set the cup on the small red table in front of him and shifted his attention to a scroll that was lying in his lap.
Without making any noise, Katsu arched his back and floated over to the seated tengu, who didn’t seem to notice what was happening. After touching the ground again, he bowed respectfully. “The Ryukage’s son, Lord Hayasaka.”
With a startled shriek, the lord of the castle dropped the scroll and fell off his cushion.
“Don’t do that, Katsu! I swear. I almost jumped out of my feathers.
One second, I’m enjoying my sencha, and the next there’s a six-foot tengu in armor, standing close enough to kill me.
Is that what you want? You want me to die, don’t you?
Why not? Everyone seems to be dying these days. Why not me too?”
Patting his blue tunic, he righted himself at his table.
“Feel better, my lord?”
His face even redder, Lord Hayasaka pressed his hand flat to his chest. “If I can get my heart rate down, I will be. Not that you care.” He gave Katsu an annoyed grimace, then turned his attention to Ryuichi and his friends. His expression immediately softened as he greeted them.
“Welcome, welcome. Please, have a seat. All of you.”
Katsu gestured for them to take the gray cushions that were placed neatly in front of Lord Hayasaka’s lacquered table.
Once they were seated, Katsu bowed to them and introduced his lord properly.
“Young Master Ryuichi, this is Hayasaka Saburo. The lord of this castle, and one of your father’s most loyal servants.”
The scowl returned to Lord Hayasaka’s face. “You’re the bodyguard,” he said to Katsu and then pointed toward the door. “Go guard.”
If that sharp tone hurt Katsu’s feelings, Ryuichi couldn’t see it on his face. Rather, the big tengu calmly walked to his post and stood quietly in a place near the door. He was so still that if Ryuichi hadn’t seen him moving a moment earlier, he’d have mistaken Katsu for a statue.
Lord Hayasaka let out an elongated breath before he mumbled to himself, “Loyal? Me? Pffft! Had your daft father not disappeared—and at the worst possible time, I should add—I’d be relaxing and enjoying the new lands he’d given me. Relaxing! Did you hear me say that?”
He locked eyes with Ryuichi. “Have you any idea how valuable the real estate next to the gate would have been? I was going to be the richest yōkai in all the realm! Every beast wanting to gobble up humans in their world was going to have to travel through my property to reach the portal. My tolls and prices would have been ridiculous, yes, to deter the lower-class yōkai, but they’d be fair.
Balance, you know? If too many humans were eaten by the yōkai, that would affect my bottom line and—”
Masaru cleared his throat, interrupting the yōkai’s rant. “Is there a point to your rambling?”
Lord Hayasaka seemed a bit ruffled. “That was the dream I had. Until the Ryukage decided to vanish without warning. Without. Warning! Now my beautiful dream has become a nightmare. An awful, horrible nightmare! Did you hear me?”
His black wings twitched and ruffled as he tossed his teacup at the doorframe, where it shattered.
“Now I’m stuck in this death trap of a shabby castle, waiting for every displaced, greedy, treacherous, low-born yōkai to crawl its way up from the darkest pit and eat me alive.
And there’s a lot of them, just so you know.
Your father wasn’t the best demon lord we’ve ever had.
By the gods, far from it. Positively awful, really.
But he was the meanest and cruelest. Fear of him kept the other yōkai in check.
Made a system here, you understand. A good one too.
For the first time that I can remember—and that’s centuries long—the spirit world was obedient under his rule.
Everyone remembered their place, because if they got uppity, the Ryukage would notice.
And once they had his attention, their lifespan went from being measured in years to seconds. ”
Hayasaka hobbled over to a stove, where a teapot was brewing more tea. He tried to pour another cup and spilled it everywhere. Slamming the pot down, he glared at Ryuichi as if it was his fault he’d done that. Then he shattered a second teacup against the wall.
“And on top of it all, Orochi has been unleashed!”
Ryuichi didn’t like the high-pitched sound of Hayasaka’s voice when he said that.
“Orochi?”
“The World Eater. Have you not heard of him? How could you not know about the World Eater? Everyone knows!”
Ryuichi didn’t. He glanced over at Masaru, who shrugged. “You don’t know him?”
“Of course I do.” Masaru winked. “Just messing with you.”
“Care to tell me what it is?”
“Ugly.”
Masaru was seldom helpful. It was infuriating.
“Orochi is an old enemy of your parents. He found a secret portal into the human realm,” Keiko explained.
“No one knows how he found it exactly. But he burst through and almost devoured Japan. Your mother and father are the sole reason he didn’t finish it off,” Koichi interjected.
“Your father served Orochi some kind of drink that made him faint, and when he was unconscious, your mother banished him to a wasteland and locked him in a cavern,” Haruki added.
“He’s been nursing a grudge ever since,” Masaru said. “Oh, and he’s a vicious dragon with eight heads and eight tails. Almost forgot that part.”
That was a lot to process.
“Why didn’t any of you tell me about this?” Ryuichi was a little annoyed to be out of the loop.
“It just never came up,” Keiko said.
“What a poor excuse,” Ryuichi-kage said, glaring at everyone.
In this moment, it felt good to have someone else standing up for him.