Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Masaru was nervous as they sailed into a gloomy fog. There was a grim feeling in the air that had nothing to do with the weather. A feeling he was more than used to, but one he’d never grown comfortable with.
The Ryukage was on the verge of killing again. He always got like this—brooding and quiet—whenever he was angry. Then he would lash out and strike at whomever annoyed him.
Right now, the nearest living thing next to the shadow lord was Masaru.
Why did he always end up in these situations?
“Why are you staring at me, kitsune?” the Ryukage growled.
“Didn’t realize I was.” He should probably take a more respectful tone. Only a fool challenged Ryukage.
Thankfully, he’d always been an idiot and had been bred to challenge authority.
Though, to be honest, the Ryukage didn’t appear very regal at the moment. Instead of a demon king, he looked like a vagabond, with his slovenly posture. It was apparent thinking about his son made him restless. In fact, he looked a bit . . . sorrowful.
Given that Masaru knew the depths of Ryukage’s internal struggle, he wasn’t particularly surprised.
“Speak plainly or die slowly,” Ryukage snarled.
Before Masaru could think better of it, the words in his head blurted out of his mouth. “Would you really have turned your son away and allowed him to fight Orochi by himself?”
Ryukage didn’t answer the question. Rather, he turned his gaze to the fog.
Which only made Masaru more curious. “He’s your son.”
“Don’t remind me.”
That irritability. Ryuichi had certainly inherited it. It was such a problem that Masaru wanted to strangle the boy at times. “So, you actually considered sending him out to die alone.”
The Ryukage shrugged. “We all die alone.”
There was some truth to that. But thanks to Yumi, Masaru knew better. Ryukage wasn’t as heartless as he wanted others to believe. “Do you really feel nothing for him?”
“No, I feel annoyed.”
Clearly, Ryukage didn’t want to get too personal, but Masaru continued pressing him anyway.
“How would you feel if he were to die?”
The Ryukage took a deep breath. “You know, it would be easier for me to toss you overboard than keep up this inane conversation.”
He snorted at that. “Wouldn’t be as easy as you think. I’ve had a lot of experience fighting back.”
The Ryukage gave him a stern look that depleted some of his courage. But Masaru would never let that show.
And when Ryukage spoke again, he was rather surprised by his question. “Why do you care so much?”
That was something he pondered often. Worse?
He had no good reason for it. So he settled for something innocuous.
“Ryuichi is a good boy. Unlike you, I’ve watched him grow up to be a fine warrior.
It would be a right shame for him to perish at the hands of your greatest enemy because you did something foolish, like, I don’t know, abandoning him during the biggest battle of his life. ”
Masaru realized he stumbled upon his true motivation for confronting Ryukage like this. He cared for Ryuichi like kin. He never expected to, but somewhere along the way, his affection for the boy had grown. Protecting Ryuichi wasn’t just about making sure he fulfilled his destiny.
Masaru understood that he stuck by the boy’s side because he was family.
Not by blood, of course. But by friendship.
Ryukage scratched at his chin. “What’s the point of this, yōkai?
Really? My son will die eventually, whether we defeat Orochi or not.
I sold my soul, and for that, I am cursed to watch everything I care about to wither before me.
Don’t you see? Nothing matters, Masaru. Even if I tried to change, it would all be suffering from beginning to end. ”
“If you truly believed that, then why did you spare your son at the gate? Face it. In that moment, you did change, but then you ran because you were scared.”
The rage in Ryukage’s eyes caught him off guard.
But Masaru couldn’t let it go. “That’s it, isn’t it? Truly caring about someone can make you more vulnerable, raw, and frightened than a horrible beast like Orochi. So you left. And what you’re so angry about is that we caught up to you.”
“And what would you know about any of it? The only person you care about is yourself.”
Masaru felt the sting of that accusation, but he knew it was partly true.
He’d betrayed others and had paid a harsh price for looking out for himself.
Even now Masaru didn’t like to remember what he’d done to survive.
What he’d been forced to do to survive. Maybe Ryukage felt the same shame over what he’d done.
He wouldn’t blame him if he did.
“That’s not who I am anymore. I’d sooner tear off all my tails than be like that again.”
Ryukage laughed. “Easy to say, but you never know what you’ll do until you face your worst nightmares.”
“What do you mean?” Masaru asked.
“Do you think when I met my beautiful wife that I ever thought about hurting her? Do you think I ever imagined, in even my darkest moments, all the evil deeds I would commit after she died by my own hands?” Ryukage’s voice cracked with what sounded like the weight of regret.
“When Ryuichi was born, it was the happiest moment of my life. I never thought I could feel what I did when I held that child in my arms. I loved them deeper than anyone could ever love them. But like you said, there was nothing more frightening.”
“So what happened? What started all this?”
The Ryukage closed his eyes as he tried to recount what had turned him into the Shadow Dragon.
“It still doesn’t feel real. It’s as if someone else did it.
But it was me. I killed the light of my life in a moment of pathetic weakness.
” Ryukage drew a ragged breath. “When she died, I became the Ryukage. Before that, I was once a yōkai hunter, just like you. A feared and powerful warrior who moved with honor and integrity. I’d heard tales of those who had sold their souls for power, and I condemned them for it.
All I ever wanted was the strength to protect what I loved. ”
The boat rocked on the water as Masaru listened to Ryukage’s story. He knew how hard this must be for Ryukage, remembering the fall of his own soul.
Ryukage continued, “Then, late at night, Tsukuyomi, the god of the moon, heard my plea for strength and offered me a deal. If I gave him my soul, he’d share his madness with me. Then everyone would fear me so much that nothing would dare hurt my family.”
“His madness?”
“Yes. I doubted the god at first. I didn’t think his brand of lunacy would be much to suffer.
I thought I could handle his powers as my own.
But when I struck my bargain, I was left with this insatiable rage.
At everyone and everything. There’s no way to describe what it feels like.
Even now it’s taking all my strength to keep from strangling you while you sit so close. ”
Putting a little more room between them, Masaru rubbed his throat, imagining Ryukage’s hands squeezing the life out of him. “Thank you for your restraint.”
Ryukage kept talking, as if an emotional burden was being lifted the more he spoke.
“After I made the deal with Tsukuyomi, Haruka confronted me over what I’d done.
She’d heard the other gods bragging about how he’d taken my soul.
She called me moon crazy and told me that I’d never be able to control Tsukuyomi’s madness.
She was right about that, but wrong about my motives.
She started accusing me, over and over, of being selfish.
Of wanting absolute power. But I only wanted to protect her.
Then I told her my plan. I would kill everyone else to keep her and our son safe.
Nothing would ever threaten my family if there was nothing to threaten them. ”
Masaru winced. “Such a stupid plan.”
“I know, I know,” Ryukage replied. “Haruka swore she’d close off the portals if I dared do such a thing.
And then I lost it. I couldn’t take her defiance anymore.
Something inside me snapped. I slashed at her with my blade.
I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t. Keiko saw the whole thing, and by the time I realized what I had done, she had disappeared with the boy. ”
Masaru shook his head. This story couldn’t be any more tragic. Yet there were things that didn’t add up to him. “Then why did you try to conquer the spirit realm instead of searching for your son?”
“At that point, I had lost everything. Everything except this burning anger inside me,” Ryukage explained.
“This sole desire to burn down the world because nothing could ease the pain. And so I did. I rained havoc on everyone for all the injustice I’d been served.
I wanted nothing more than to open the gates and spread this hatred as far as I could.
To give them a taste of the agony I’d endured. Let them suffer just as much as I had.”
Ryukage’s hands clenched into tight fists. Masaru could tell the anguish was still coursing through him.
“But when I saw my son, on the battlefield across from me, with the face of his mother and his blade pointed at my heart. What was I supposed to do? I thought I felt nothing but wrath and ruin. That I was incapable of the love I once knew. But when I saw him, I couldn’t hurt him. Not again.”
“So, you retreated?”
“Yes,” the Ryukage said. “And you’re wrong. I did look for my boy. For years.”
Not to reunite, but to capture and control him. But Masaru wasn’t dumb enough to say that out loud.
“Understood,” he said instead. “So what now? Are you committed to fighting Orochi? To really standing by your son?”
The Ryukage stood up quickly, like he wanted to retreat again, but he was surrounded by the sea. There was no escape from this reckoning.
“Every last bit of this was my fault,” he said. “It wasn’t the gods. It wasn’t fate. It wasn’t destiny. I alone destroyed my happiness, and I alone can get it back.”
What a fitting realization for a tortured creature like him.
“Now we are getting somewhere,” Masaru said.
“There is only one thing in my way,” said Ryukage. He puffed out his chest and brought his shoulders back, standing tall. “Orochi.”
“We can beat him. Can’t we?” Masaru didn’t want to sound skeptical, but crushing the World Eater like the worm he was would be an almost impossible feat.
Ryukage looked Masaru directly in the eyes. “We won’t lose. My son and I will make sure of it.”