Aotsuki Tsukamoto Hates This

Criminal Activity

The revelation that Hashinara Yoshitakatomo would be staying in the Dreamlands was a sobering one, but not entirely unexpected. Hosokawa Gracia and the dangerous newcomer, Carmilla, would remain with her* on Oriab. That left Aotsuki Tsukamoto and Matsumoto Ooawagaeri to guide the other members of their crew back to Earth safely.   There wasn't anything but fifty feet of open coast between them and the portal now. And yet... Every time they'd drawn close to returning so far, something had happened to delay them. Aotsuki felt a dark foreboding about what tiny slice remained of their journey. Perhaps Fubuki felt it too, for she* wove the water under her* command into a swirling tunnel, connecting the bow of the Black Galleon directly to the portal. Together with their companions, the Black Blade and Golden Arm proceeded homeward...

They reached the halfway point, then passed it. The portal was close now. Not but a few feet away. It seemed they'd truly manage to return home without anything happening. Then, something did. It remains a bit unclear what exactly occurred there, in that roiling tunnel of water. But something stopped them short. Fleeing impressions gripped their minds; something about a race, and a great pixelated beast. Dancing men and a horse sprinting on two legs... No, it couldn't have been anything but a strange coalescence of pure dream-energy lashing out as they drew closer to Earth. There could be no other explanation for what they saw. Still, the two were unaltered, unharmed, and their companions were fine as well. They passed through the portal and returned, finally, to Ise Grand Shrine.   Yagokoro Tokuyo was waiting for them on the other side. It must have been almost midnight by that point, but the priestess was uncharacteristically chipper, as though she'd just come out of a restful sleep. The news that Yoshitakatomo would not be returning didn't seem to faze Tokuyo much. After all, the portal was right here. Their Daimyō was, in many ways, just the blink of an eye away.   Now there was only the matter of taking everyone back to where they needed to be before the hour grew any later. Shigeaki Fujino appeared and took away Oyama Hikari, who had apparently made her own arrangements. Kravann was still with them as well. She needed help in making it to Ago with her Wamp corpses. Anyone who stepped up would, of course, be compensated by the Tanahase Clan. That wouldn't be much trouble for Fubuki. The Black Blade offered Kravann board on her* Earthside ship, currently docked in Ago Harbor. She'd* handle moving the Wamps there as well.   Meanwhile, Aotsuki was curious about something Tokuyo had mentioned. His people were here waiting outside? He sneaked over to the temple door and, angling himself to make certain his new, golden arm was still hidden within. Without, standing as though waiting for him, was none other than Abe no Seimei. He almost missed the magical circle at her feet. Subtly drawn into the dust, it seemed to suggest a plan for Forneus that Aotsuki had explicitly promised against.   Still keeping his arm hidden, Aotsuki called out mentally to Seimei. She dodged his question about the circle, instead vaguely stating that she understood he'd made a promise. Instead, the onmyōji tried to get him outside with his companions. With Forneus. It wasn't hard to guess why. Aotsuki considered the situation, then decided to sidestep it entirely. Calling upon Fujino, he asked her to pick himself and Forneus up and deliver them to Enryaku-ji without delay. Seimei could find her own way there.   Despite the late hour, Fujino was still keeping busy. She delivered Kravann and the Wamps to Ago, Aotsuki and Forneus to Mount Hiei, and Fubuki to Ōtsu Castle, before returning to sort out the others. Arriving in the temple's sanctum, Aotsuki could sense the slight energy in the air from Imamura Naiku's perpetual spell of peace. The priestess was there herself, looking slightly ruffled in her ceremonial robes and with a bit of sleep still around her eyes. She made no complaint, however. Instead, Naiku expressed amazement at Aotsuki's glowing arm and the demon he'd temporarily made his companion. Forneus, meanwhile, was gazing around her with a sense of perverse delight. That wasn't a good sign. Aotsuki hoped he wouldn't regret bringing her to the temple.   Aotsuki almost immediately regretted bringing Forneus to the temple. With demonic insight, the tentacled maiden seemed to immediately see into Naiku's secrets. She was having a bit of marital trouble, perhaps. Forneus could make that go away, make her husband fall for her all over again, make him totally devoted and faithful... The demoness' hand extended, two metal rings glinting in the heart of her palm. At that point, Aotsuki felt he had to step in. This, he claimed, was very dangerously close to a breach of their agreement. As is a demon's wont, Forneus contested the precise wording. Still, she must have realized she was still under Aotsuki's power, because she didn't push back too hard. There would be plenty of time for that after she was free, free to travel Japan and spread the black gospel of True Love.   With another flash of light, Seimei appeared in the sanctum. She made no mention of Aotsuki's previous flight, but from the tense line of her jaw, he could tell that the onmyōji was not happy. She had only a few short questions of her own for Forneus. Their demonic guest proved to be, however, quite unhelpful. For being an Archdemon of Sheol, Forneus was shockingly unskilled in magic or the occult. Soon it became clear that Seimei wouldn't extract anything of use from her.   While they spoke, Aotsuki had been thinking. He mentally shot over his conclusion to Seimei once they were finished. They'd agreed not to control or bind Forneus in any way, but banishment didn't really fall under either category, did it? Seimei didn't need any encouragement. Without even so much as a shikigami, she completed a banishment ritual on the spot and dragged Forneus into the black pits of Gehenna once again. They were rid of that nuisance for the immediate future. Somehow, Aotsuki got the impression it wasn't the last he'd see of Forneus, however.   With that done, it seemed that Aotsuki owed Seimei an explanation on his shimmering golden arm. He gave it, as well as a brief rundown of what else had happened in the Dreamlands and the gift that he'd prepared for her as a souvenir. Seimei unwrapped it there and held up the smooth, horned Night-gaunt skull to the sanctum's torchlight. Her expression was, as always, difficult to read as she thanked him. Then, Seimei smiled, and Aotsuki's heart lit up.   They thanked Naiku for her hospitality and then made back for Ōtsu Castle. The priestess likely needed her sleep, and it wouldn't do for both Aotsuki and Seimei to be away from their home for too long. Not with all the strange events which had plagued it lately.   Meanwhle, Fubuki was unearthing the latest of those sinister events.   Upon arriving in the darkened halls of Ōtsu Castle, Fubuki had encountered little more than a startled guard. They were apparently growing used to Fujino's arbitrary transport in and out of the castle, however, and soon returned back to a dull attentiveness without any challenge to the newcomer. Fubuki wandered the shadowy corridors for a time, perhaps drawn in by some slight taste of chaos on the air.   Eventually, she* found it. In the close distance, just on the other side of the nearest wall, a shuffling, moaning sound. Someone was dragging their feet, groaning and complaining, in a hallway just beyond. It sounded like the ragged voice of a woman. She lamented over her ungrateful children, lurching forward all the while. A quick check on the ki spectrum confirmed Fubuki's suspicions. This was no human. Where an aura should have been was instead a dark pit, like a hole in the air. That usually meant something undead.   This seemed like a good opportunity for mischief, so Fubuki phased her* way magically through the wall. There, she* encountered the very image of a vengeful Japanese ghost. A long curtain of black hair completely covered the woman's face. From the sleeve of her white kimono, a pale hand grasped at the hilt of a rusty, beaten katana, while her bare feet dragged across Ōtsu's polished floors.   Fubuki didn't so much as blink. After all, the Black Blade was much more terrible than some vengeful ghost. This one's katana looked to be in terrible shape anyway. She wouldn't get too much done with that. Would she like it cleaned? In response, the specter just wailed again about her ungrateful children, her son who had left her to die, and the vengeful ass-whooping she intended to visit upon him now. The cry was so loud that Aotsuki and Seimei, having just arrived on the castle's second floor, heard it clearly. They exchanged a worried glance before rushing downstairs to join the scene.   At the same time, Fubuki was asking about that son the ghost seemed to bear such a grudge against. Was it Shōta, the boy who was here the other night? She'd* seem him in Shimonoseki most recently, if so. This didn't seem to placate the spirit, who demanded to know how Fubuki dared to ask about her deadbeat son. The creature's thin hand tightened around her weapon's hilt, and she might have attacked Fubuki there, if Aotsuki and Seimei hadn't crashed onto the scene.   Immediately, the spirit's attention shifted to the Castle Lord. Aotsuki "smelled of her son," a statement that he surely would have taken as quite the insult if he'd had any idea what was going on. The ghost drew her weapon... Or, rather, she drew nothing. Fubuki had stealthily magicked the other's katana out of its sheath and was now examining the battered blade with an expression of grave disappointment. This didn't stop the spirit, however. She made a series of cutting motions at Aotsuki, a fierce flurry of attacks. As she was holding literally nothing in her hand, however, that didn't accomplish much.   With his characteristic calmness in the face of absurd chaos, Aotsuki managed to tease out a bit more of what had brought the specter here. Her "worthless son and conniving daughter" had left her sick and dying in their home village. Now she'd come back as a ghost to wreak her revenge. That sounded like Shōta and Shōjō... Aotsuki began to feel a twinge of pity for the strange woman. Had they really abandoned their dying mother like that? It seemed such a tragedy.   Meanwhile, Fubuki attempted to untangle the ghost's hair. Her* conjured comb immediately got stuck in that convoluted black mass. All attempts to dislodge the thing failed, so Fubuki just left it. She* could always just cancel the spell later.   Before Aotsuki could offer his sympathies, the nearest door slid forcefully open. Shōjō stood there. Of course it was Shōjō. The ratty girl, now back to her scummy usual self, decried all of Okājo's ramblings. Their mother was always like this, and anything about her dying because of their neglect was just lies. She'd been this way ever since their father had been locked up. That was the true tragedy.   Shōjō apologized and apologized again that she and Okājo had brought such misfortune upon his house. If he could find it in himself to donate a small fund for their traveling expenses, she'd take her mother home and make sure that Okājo received the care she deserved. She was sick after all. Once again, Fubuki spoke up: Okājo didn't seem that sick. An awkward silence followed for a moment. Then, the "ghost" let out an unconvincing cough.   Aotsuki squeezed his eyes shut to dull the oncoming headache. To think that he'd almost felt sorry for these charlatans. Was he cursed? Haunted? Was Ōtsu Castle haunted? Was that why the Oda Clan had given it up so easily? He didn't know, but he was currently seriously debating just paying these two off so that they'd leave. First, though, he had to try. He could just take them home. Immediately. Now. To their village, wherever the heck that might be.   With a dramatic wave of her arm, Shōjō refused his offer. Their home was far, far away, she claimed. Further than even his great power could reach. Therefore, they needed a huge amount of wealth to make the journey on their own. Fifty thousand koku, at least. Aotsuki goggled. That was a literal fortune. Enough to pay a year's salary to his greatest retainer, five times over. There was no way he would be shelling out that kind of koku.   In desperation, he called out to Naiku again. Aotsuki knew that he'd probably be waking her, but the situation was dire. As a last-ditch effort, he asked the priestess to cast a spell of location on whatever passed as "home" for Shōjō and her mother. Naiku didn't immediately answer. She was hesitant to do so even when he asked. The spell had indicated Ōtsu itself, she said. It was coming from inside the castle. That brought a scowl to Aotsuki's face. What the yomi did that mean? It wasn't of any use to him right now, regardless.   Instead, Aotsuki took the plunge. He reached out and brushed Okājo's sooty robes with his glowing fingers, invoking the light of Amaterasu to heal whatever might plague the woman. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, from the point where Aotsuki had touched her, a glowing golden sheen began to spread across Okājo's skin. It continued, engulfing the ghostly woman until she was glowing like a living, golden statue. Aotsuki blinked. That had never happened before.   Okājo herself seemed rapturous, but Shōjō was incensed. He'd just turned her mother into a freak! Obviously he had to pay reparations. He was up to seventy-thousand koku now. At around that point, Fubuki grew a tail. It was large, vulpine, and black. The thing wrapped around Okājo's golden form and lifted her into the sky. Fubuki floated toward the ceiling, drifting slowly, and wailing ghostily about how she* was fading away. Immediately, Okājo took up the chant as well.   Now Aotsuki had done it. He'd gone and lost Shōjō's mother. When the young lord tried to point out that Okājo was literally still right there, his protests fell on deaf ears. He'd have to take responsibility and help Shōjō find the missing woman. Fortunately, she had just the thing. For an extra five thousand koku, Shōjō would throw in these magical dowsing stones that would show them the clearest path to Okājo. To Aotsuki, they just looked like crummy rocks with white-paint arrows on them. He was speechless.   Then, Fubuki took matters into hand. Or tail. Growing another of the things, she* this time wrapped it around Shōjō. The girl continued babbling, demanding seventy-five thousand koku even as Fubuki slowly floated away out of the corridor. Eventually, Shōjō's ranting became quieter with distance, and then vanished. At no point did she seem to struggle.   Finally, Aotsuki, Seimei, and his sheele were alone in the corridor. Throughout, the onmyōji hadn't said anything, hadn't let herself be drawn into this nonsense. Perhaps that was her legendary wisdom at work. Aotsuki truly didn't know how to react and just stood there for a time, looking at the "dowsing stones" dropped haphazardly on the floor where Shōjō had stood. They were pointing exactly in the opposite direction of where Okājo had gone.