[ the trial ends, the fog parts. In the shadowy distance, the manor at the center of the Yamaoka estate. His kanabō dragging along the ground, tearing up furrows, Kazan trudges towards it—and stops in his tracks.
Before him spans a bridge nestled in a thicket of bamboo. Though it never existed on the estate grounds in his lifetime, he must have passed it hundreds of times here. But it draws his eye now. Because there aren't any splinters or deep gouges upon its boards to show that this was where he fought against that metal-headed demon. No stains on the dry bed of stones underneath, even though he saw it running red with a river of blood from both of their wounds. Not even a trace in the surrounding earth where the demon had hoisted him into the air with ease, bound him with sharp wires, drew forward that great knife—
No. Absolutely nothing. If he wanted to, he could almost believe all of that was some dark vision. A nightmare. Yet—he touches the front of his armor. The embossed and fanged face set in its center is whole, its snarl intact, but his fingertips come away smeared with blood. His, dripping down from a large open gash across his chest which pulsates painfully with his every breath.
A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat, and he clenches his hands into fists.
It happened. He fought. He lost. He died. That agony is far too familiar for his pride to deny it. Whether by one blade or a hundred, the pain—and humiliation—is the same, burning through him. And then he had awoken in a trial, one of the few constants of his existence here. The sacrifices this time had met the full force of his fury, all four delivered swiftly into the claws of that thrice-cursed Entity in his impatience to return to the estate. To revenge himself upon that other demon before it disappeared.
But it isn't here. Fled, surely. Hoisting his kanabō onto his back, Kazan turns to enter the fog once more—
Then he remembers. Rin. Her face, ashen and wide-eyed—the last sight he saw before darkness overtook him. Her scream—the last sound ringing in his ears before all went silent.
Where is she? Had that demon turned on her after it finished with him?
Turning back, he strides towards the estate's manor, dread quickening his steps. His own return to life—such as it is in a place like this—means nothing. A thousand thousand times the torment it inflicted upon him would not be enough to sate Kazan's own rage if it made Rin shed even a single drop of her blood. ]
[ her grandfather dies before her just like her mother, and it's what gives rin the same pain in her chest that she felt back after seeing the mangled limbs resting over the vast pool of blood that was her mother. it's why she releases a shrill cry as she sees kazan bleed and fade into nothing like how victims of this realm would die and be fed to the entity. all that's missing are its claws, and to rin that means the entity has nothing to do with the bloodshed that happened at home.
this triangle-shaped head of a man comes not for her, but for her grandfather for an unknown reason. whatever the reason is however? rin doesn't care with her emotions running wild, actually feeling the heat of rage and sadness course through her body for once in a long, long time. tears immediately stream down her face as she screams, the shattered katana phasing into her hand as she dashes — her form phases realms hurriedly like the onryou she is — to attack the monster in front of her. no one, survivor or killer, has made rin want to kill them since her father.
no one hurts her family and gets away with it! that's why she always aims to kill her father — an illusion that rin doesn't know yet — whenever she sees him in trials. that's why she runs over and attacks the man with the great knife still stained with her ancestor's blood. not even the entity would be able to hold rin back with how much she wants the man in front of her dead despite only scratching him, barely bothering him when she witnesses him turn away. ]
Don't you turn your back on me!
[ her voice unstable as the the grip on the handle of her sword shaking, but like everything else in this world the murderer leaves through the fog as though. rin swipes hoping to mark him for death, but no such chance was given to her. no attempt for revenge, only grieve despite knowing that everyone who dies returns eventually. though rin has yet to die herself a second time, she's witnessed those who has. she understands that everyone here, and not just the survivors, are hostages to the entity.
serve or be tortured.
now, just because rin knows the facts does not mean her the piercing pain in her heart stops. her ancestor — grandfather — still died and she couldn't do anything to stop the stranger. she couldn't save her grandfather, instead, witnessing another corpse of her blood lay dead before it disappeared. it still hurts. she is the result of her emotions wanting vengeance, how her love for her mother and anger for her father strengthens her in the end along with the rage of the yamaoka curse.
that is the reason why rin sobs at the steps of her home, she needs to be stronger if she has to protect her family when they can't protect themselves from... whatever that thing was. upset and angry and alone, not knowing that her grandfather was brought to a trial after his death. this is the reason why rin stands up with her sword out after hearing heavy footsteps coming home, only to see her grandfather arrive back through the fog.
it is also the reason why rin rushes — still phasing, her emotions getting the best of her — towards kazan and hugs him tight while still crying. is it shameful to cry? rin doesn't care, it's how she feels. ridiculous to others perhaps when people come back to life everytime, but family is family and she never wants to lose them ever again. ]
[ Rin's sobbing reaches him well before he sees her. Uninterrupted by the gasps and shudders of the mortally wounded—but a deep pain echoes in it all the same amidst the sounds of cracking bone and glass always enveloping her. He presses on without hesitation.
Within moments, she comes into view. Limbs wrapped tight around herself, pale and pitifully small against the gloomy backdrop of the manor. Every step darkening the ground with more blood, he approaches and extends a hand to help her to her feet.
Or—he would have, if she hadn't rushed forward and hugged him first, apparently heedless of the crimson covering almost every inch of his armor and skin. Kazan hesitates, then carefully wraps his arms around her and cradles the back of her head. At first, nothing comes out when he tries to speak, a sudden pang within his throat—the wires tangled about his neck, strangling, slicing—choking off his words. He swallows. Forces his way past it, his voice low and far hoarser than usual. ]
Rin.
[ even as he embraces her, he feels her shifting, her fragile form fragmenting and fading with each heave of her shoulders as she cries. It's as if a single touch will cause her to shatter into pieces. Yet he doesn't let go. Now more than ever, his strength must be hers. The despair descending in the wake of helplessness—he knows very well the perils of succumbing to that dark fog. And after what Rin has already witnessed, he cannot allow that to happen to her. Lest that demon is tempted to return.
Let it come, some part of him snarls, ever hungry for bloodshed and vengeance. But when he pulls back a little, looking down at his granddaughter's tear-stained face, he silences it. ]
[ blood is no stranger to rin, her spiritual being born of revenge for being shed with the blade of her own father. she has to catch and sacrifice meat, appeasing the being that allows her to give into her anger and avenge her family by killing her father in every single trial since day one. she has killed numerous times with her family's sword many times over.
that is why being covered in blood doesn't disturb rin the slightest as she holds onto her grandfather, with her whole being just thankful that he's back and alive and here again. despite knowing that death is not an escape from the entity — having to sacrifice the same people many times over until they break — it doesn't hurt her undead heart any less.
rin hasn't had a proper hug in a long, long time; she shakes her head as she looks upwards towards her ancestor, still weeping and shifting — a sign of her emotions still unstable despite her trying. ]
No, he left before I could strike, but...
[ a pause as she takes a breath. her voice shaking like her powers: ]
I understand that we'll never truly die in this realm, that I shouldn't cry like this, but watching you die — it was like seeing mother's death all over again. I didn't arrive in time, I couldn't help you.
[ the death of her mother always equates into heartbreak for rin. a tragedy that she wished she could have prevented. perhaps she should have arrived home earlier, perhaps she should have stopped her studies and find full time work to help her family —
rin still dreams of moments that can never be fixed. ]
[ the cuts and punctures littering his body continue to bleed, trickling down in sluggish trails. With each exhale, no matter how shallow, a new wash of blood pours from the gash on—through—his chest. Twists of pain accompany the smallest of motions. no longer numbed by the adrenaline of the trial. Yet with a shake of his head, he dismisses it all. Endures it. He can still stand. Still move. Still fight, if need be. It's enough. ]
They will heal, in time.
[ how else, he thinks with no small amount of bitterness, can he continue to sacrifice to the demon in the sky? But with that thought also comes doubt. Whenever a trial comes to an end, he is restored, any injuries he may have received fading away as if they never happened. That these are lingering bodes ill. Is it a punishment from the Entity? A consequence of daring to fight another one of its "servants"? Or—is it that creature itself? He had heard... something in his mind when its knife sank into his flesh. Not the Entity's whispers, but just as wordless and inhuman. A cacophony of cries. Muffled or from a great distance.
He draws a breath, about to ask Rin if she had heard it as well—then changes his mind. No. He won't burden her with more worry. With one hand, he wipes away her tears, leaving dark red streaks in their place. ]
Do not weep, Granddaughter. It was my battle, not yours. For you, it is enough that— [ he grits his teeth. ] —at its end, you still chose to face the enemy with a ready blade, as befitting your name.
[ even if she and the demon never came to blows. And for that, Kazan is—no, not grateful, he isn't indebted to that thing—relieved she hadn't attracted its notice. Yes, the blood of the Yamaoka flows through Rin's veins, granting her power and strength. Yes, he would prefer her to fight rather than hide should it come to that. But even in death, even imprisoned within this dark realm—she's the last of his descendants, and innocent of whatever he brings upon himself. ]
[It's the only way he can think of that they would have ended up at the place she calls 'home', run down as it is. All the more reason for him to leave as soon as he can manage to sit up without his head spinning quite so much.]
I've wondered before about not following the tradition my father demanded I learn. I've never enjoyed learning kendo back then.
[ being forced to learn the discipline of the sword by her father? she hates it. learning through her grandfather in this dark and cruel world? actually interesting — she never knew they had their own style until meeting kazan yamaoka. ]
[ that hits a little too close to home. Yui can sympathize; a bit odd that it's with somebody from the other side. ]
I can understand that. My father didn't like that I was engaging in activities that weren't geared towards the general female population. Did you get to anything you liked?
Aside from learning, no. I had no time for anything else beyond what I needed to do.
[ it's nice, actually having someone to talk to. considering this is a conversation that won't leave either of them, rin believes it's okay to speak just a bit more than usual. ]
saw you walking into the saloon earlier when i was coming back from a trial i called to you but you didnt answer and after i got inside you werent anywhere to be found everything all right?
aint calling you a liar but i dont see how it couldve been anyone else she had the same long black hair as you wore a white dress
[ granted, not one he ever saw Rin wearing, and her hair hung down in tangles instead of floating as it usually does—but that didn't strike him as strange. He's long since gotten used to the Entity changing clothing and appearances according to some unknowable whim. What made him certain was— ]
and she moved the same way you do there one step and gone the next
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Before him spans a bridge nestled in a thicket of bamboo. Though it never existed on the estate grounds in his lifetime, he must have passed it hundreds of times here. But it draws his eye now. Because there aren't any splinters or deep gouges upon its boards to show that this was where he fought against that metal-headed demon. No stains on the dry bed of stones underneath, even though he saw it running red with a river of blood from both of their wounds. Not even a trace in the surrounding earth where the demon had hoisted him into the air with ease, bound him with sharp wires, drew forward that great knife—
No. Absolutely nothing. If he wanted to, he could almost believe all of that was some dark vision. A nightmare. Yet—he touches the front of his armor. The embossed and fanged face set in its center is whole, its snarl intact, but his fingertips come away smeared with blood. His, dripping down from a large open gash across his chest which pulsates painfully with his every breath.
A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat, and he clenches his hands into fists.
It happened. He fought. He lost. He died. That agony is far too familiar for his pride to deny it. Whether by one blade or a hundred, the pain—and humiliation—is the same, burning through him. And then he had awoken in a trial, one of the few constants of his existence here. The sacrifices this time had met the full force of his fury, all four delivered swiftly into the claws of that thrice-cursed Entity in his impatience to return to the estate. To revenge himself upon that other demon before it disappeared.
But it isn't here. Fled, surely. Hoisting his kanabō onto his back, Kazan turns to enter the fog once more—
Then he remembers. Rin. Her face, ashen and wide-eyed—the last sight he saw before darkness overtook him. Her scream—the last sound ringing in his ears before all went silent.
Where is she? Had that demon turned on her after it finished with him?
Turning back, he strides towards the estate's manor, dread quickening his steps. His own return to life—such as it is in a place like this—means nothing. A thousand thousand times the torment it inflicted upon him would not be enough to sate Kazan's own rage if it made Rin shed even a single drop of her blood. ]
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this triangle-shaped head of a man comes not for her, but for her grandfather for an unknown reason. whatever the reason is however? rin doesn't care with her emotions running wild, actually feeling the heat of rage and sadness course through her body for once in a long, long time. tears immediately stream down her face as she screams, the shattered katana phasing into her hand as she dashes — her form phases realms hurriedly like the onryou she is — to attack the monster in front of her. no one, survivor or killer, has made rin want to kill them since her father.
no one hurts her family and gets away with it! that's why she always aims to kill her father — an illusion that rin doesn't know yet — whenever she sees him in trials. that's why she runs over and attacks the man with the great knife still stained with her ancestor's blood. not even the entity would be able to hold rin back with how much she wants the man in front of her dead despite only scratching him, barely bothering him when she witnesses him turn away. ]
Don't you turn your back on me!
[ her voice unstable as the the grip on the handle of her sword shaking, but like everything else in this world the murderer leaves through the fog as though. rin swipes hoping to mark him for death, but no such chance was given to her. no attempt for revenge, only grieve despite knowing that everyone who dies returns eventually. though rin has yet to die herself a second time, she's witnessed those who has. she understands that everyone here, and not just the survivors, are hostages to the entity.
serve or be tortured.
now, just because rin knows the facts does not mean her the piercing pain in her heart stops. her ancestor — grandfather — still died and she couldn't do anything to stop the stranger. she couldn't save her grandfather, instead, witnessing another corpse of her blood lay dead before it disappeared. it still hurts. she is the result of her emotions wanting vengeance, how her love for her mother and anger for her father strengthens her in the end along with the rage of the yamaoka curse.
that is the reason why rin sobs at the steps of her home, she needs to be stronger if she has to protect her family when they can't protect themselves from... whatever that thing was. upset and angry and alone, not knowing that her grandfather was brought to a trial after his death. this is the reason why rin stands up with her sword out after hearing heavy footsteps coming home, only to see her grandfather arrive back through the fog.
it is also the reason why rin rushes — still phasing, her emotions getting the best of her — towards kazan and hugs him tight while still crying. is it shameful to cry? rin doesn't care, it's how she feels. ridiculous to others perhaps when people come back to life everytime, but family is family and she never wants to lose them ever again. ]
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Within moments, she comes into view. Limbs wrapped tight around herself, pale and pitifully small against the gloomy backdrop of the manor. Every step darkening the ground with more blood, he approaches and extends a hand to help her to her feet.
Or—he would have, if she hadn't rushed forward and hugged him first, apparently heedless of the crimson covering almost every inch of his armor and skin. Kazan hesitates, then carefully wraps his arms around her and cradles the back of her head. At first, nothing comes out when he tries to speak, a sudden pang within his throat—the wires tangled about his neck, strangling, slicing—choking off his words. He swallows. Forces his way past it, his voice low and far hoarser than usual. ]
Rin.
[ even as he embraces her, he feels her shifting, her fragile form fragmenting and fading with each heave of her shoulders as she cries. It's as if a single touch will cause her to shatter into pieces. Yet he doesn't let go. Now more than ever, his strength must be hers. The despair descending in the wake of helplessness—he knows very well the perils of succumbing to that dark fog. And after what Rin has already witnessed, he cannot allow that to happen to her. Lest that demon is tempted to return.
Let it come, some part of him snarls, ever hungry for bloodshed and vengeance. But when he pulls back a little, looking down at his granddaughter's tear-stained face, he silences it. ]
Did it hurt you?
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that is why being covered in blood doesn't disturb rin the slightest as she holds onto her grandfather, with her whole being just thankful that he's back and alive and here again. despite knowing that death is not an escape from the entity — having to sacrifice the same people many times over until they break — it doesn't hurt her undead heart any less.
rin hasn't had a proper hug in a long, long time; she shakes her head as she looks upwards towards her ancestor, still weeping and shifting — a sign of her emotions still unstable despite her trying. ]
No, he left before I could strike, but...
[ a pause as she takes a breath. her voice shaking like her powers: ]
I understand that we'll never truly die in this realm, that I shouldn't cry like this, but watching you die — it was like seeing mother's death all over again. I didn't arrive in time, I couldn't help you.
[ the death of her mother always equates into heartbreak for rin. a tragedy that she wished she could have prevented. perhaps she should have arrived home earlier, perhaps she should have stopped her studies and find full time work to help her family —
rin still dreams of moments that can never be fixed. ]
What of your wounds, Grandfather?
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They will heal, in time.
[ how else, he thinks with no small amount of bitterness, can he continue to sacrifice to the demon in the sky? But with that thought also comes doubt. Whenever a trial comes to an end, he is restored, any injuries he may have received fading away as if they never happened. That these are lingering bodes ill. Is it a punishment from the Entity? A consequence of daring to fight another one of its "servants"? Or—is it that creature itself? He had heard... something in his mind when its knife sank into his flesh. Not the Entity's whispers, but just as wordless and inhuman. A cacophony of cries. Muffled or from a great distance.
He draws a breath, about to ask Rin if she had heard it as well—then changes his mind. No. He won't burden her with more worry. With one hand, he wipes away her tears, leaving dark red streaks in their place. ]
Do not weep, Granddaughter. It was my battle, not yours. For you, it is enough that— [ he grits his teeth. ] —at its end, you still chose to face the enemy with a ready blade, as befitting your name.
[ even if she and the demon never came to blows. And for that, Kazan is—no, not grateful, he isn't indebted to that thing—relieved she hadn't attracted its notice. Yes, the blood of the Yamaoka flows through Rin's veins, granting her power and strength. Yes, he would prefer her to fight rather than hide should it come to that. But even in death, even imprisoned within this dark realm—she's the last of his descendants, and innocent of whatever he brings upon himself. ]
Come. Let us go inside.
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@visionaryarchitect
[ ah damn it. the force of habit she has. ]
Forgive me, I mean my ancestor.
You and the others call him the Oni.
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...how did you know?
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As for how I knew, when he arrived at home, we spoke to each other.
[ things rin doesn't add: after a bloody battle, that is. ]
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[It's the only way he can think of that they would have ended up at the place she calls 'home', run down as it is. All the more reason for him to leave as soon as he can manage to sit up without his head spinning quite so much.]
Why is he called that? What does it mean?
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As for what it means, Oni's are monsters that live in mountains — it's said that they are formed after wicked men are brought to hell.
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spoilers she's about to find out in the above thread ✨
have fun with that, rin!
yes she will!!
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@hachimakis
I promise.
I've wondered before about not following the tradition my father demanded I learn. I've never enjoyed learning kendo back then.
[ being forced to learn the discipline of the sword by her father? she hates it. learning through her grandfather in this dark and cruel world? actually interesting — she never knew they had their own style until meeting kazan yamaoka. ]
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[ that hits a little too close to home. Yui can sympathize; a bit odd that it's with somebody from the other side. ]
I can understand that. My father didn't like that I was engaging in activities that weren't geared towards the general female population. Did you get to anything you liked?
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[ it's nice, actually having someone to talk to. considering this is a conversation that won't leave either of them, rin believes it's okay to speak just a bit more than usual. ]
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You would think that they'd want their children to pursue what made them happy instead of forcing them to do things that made them miserable instead.
tmw almost replied w/ the wrong journaljkfgdjk
It's tradition to remember my family's roots. That we are a name to be proud of. And I am proud of my linage.
I sometimes wish that things could have been different, but it's lead me to what I am now.
it's ok that happens to me all the time LMAOOOO
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@learntolose
You run around in silence without disrupting the crows. I refuse to let you continue that.
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Or the Entity for letting them screw up like that
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I can still hear you.
[ s t r i d o r. thanks ms. smithson for teaching her!! ]
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You only hear what I want you to hear
[ Or at least he'd love to believe that. Stridor OP, plz nerf ]
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[ guess who has a mori with jake's name on it? she does. after all, she always feeds the entity well. ]
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need to have a word with you
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i called to you but you didnt answer
and after i got inside you werent anywhere to be found
everything all right?
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I haven't visited your realm for quite some time. It couldn't be me you saw. Are you sure about this?
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she had the same long black hair as you
wore a white dress
[ granted, not one he ever saw Rin wearing, and her hair hung down in tangles instead of floating as it usually does—but that didn't strike him as strange. He's long since gotten used to the Entity changing clothing and appearances according to some unknowable whim. What made him certain was— ]
and she moved the same way you do
there one step and gone the next
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