Forbidden Love of the Onmyoji - The Demon's Bond and Ritual's End - Moonlight Demon Appearing on a Rainy Night

The rain intensified. At the edge of the Genbu Well, Sakiya gripped the curse seal in her hand. Past midnight. No one remained nearby. Even the main residence of the Shimotski household lay wrapped in silence at this hour. Only the sound of water striking stone, beating the earth, echoed with rhythmic regularity. Since that morning three days prior, when she had dropped the curse seal before the Genbu Well, Sakiya's heart had known no peace. That moment's clumsiness. The instant when she, who ought to have been flawless as a practitioner of the arts, had faltered in her concentration. That fact returned to her mind again and again. "I will not fail tonight." The whisper was both a promise to herself and something like a prayer. Sakiya drew her shoulders upward and steadied her breathing. The Gensou curse seal—a secret treasure of the Shimotski house. A foundation that sustained the spiritual defense of this family, manufactured in quantities of merely two hundred sheets per year—. Sakiya held it in both hands and stood before the well. The rain dampened her hair, traced her cheeks. By that coldness, she had to steel herself again and again. She was neither as austere as her elder brother nor devoted to foreign techniques as her cousin was. And precisely for this reason, she had been chosen. Because she was not the formal heir, it was she who had been entrusted with this duty. (Can I truly do this?) How many times had that question visited her this night? Yet there was no turning back now. Sakiya began to weave the intricate hand seals. From the first finger to the little finger. The angle, the speed, the flow—all had to be flawless, or the technique would not manifest. Movements repeated hundreds of times in the training grounds. Forms carved into her very body. The seal completed. Sakiya drew a deep breath. She began to intone the ritual words. Ancient language. The liturgy passed down through generations of this lineage. That sound possessed a strange resonance, as though time itself were flowing backward. The Gensou curse seal began to glow faintly in Sakiya's hands. Spiritual vein energy flowed through her body. It was neither cold nor warm—a sensation of the entire world concentrating itself within her palms, a strange and perfect fulfillment. Sakiya closed her eyes and continued the incantation. Her voice was drawn into the well. Then it happened. The ground trembled. Barely a vibration. Yet Sakiya's body responded with acute sensitivity. The liturgy broke off. The hand gripping the curse seal stiffened in an instant. "Something..." Before she could speak, light rose from the bottom of the well. It was pale blue, the color of moonlight. Sakiya instinctively stepped backward, drawing a fresh curse seal from her sleeve. The light climbed higher and higher. Something was rising from within the well. That sensation reached every sensory organ in her being. Yokai essence. Not human. That distinctive spiritual vibration that could never be human. Sakiya planted her feet firmly and assumed a combat stance. She raised the curse seal and prepared to weave the protective seals. (It comes. It comes.) Her heartbeat grew stronger. Anxiety and anticipation mingled. The light reached its zenith. Then, quietly, it faded. Before the well stood a human figure. Sakiya held her breath. No—she stopped breathing entirely. A yokai in the form of a human youth. Silver hair that recalled moonlight. Not the natural black of humanity, but truly silver. Each strand flowing from forehead to cheek gleamed faintly even in the night rain. His features were too perfect. They transcended the human form. His eyes were a deep azure, and within them seemed to dwell the depth of centuries, of millennia. His kimono was black, his obi white silver. That attire suggested some ancient era. Yet there was no soil upon it, no tear. It was preserved in perfect condition. "Do not move." Sakiya's voice rang out. The hand holding the curse seal did not tremble. Was this the fruit of her training, or did her sense of duty govern her body? "Are you... a yokai?" While stepping backward, Sakiya secured her combat distance. This yokai radiated high danger. Its aura, its presence. All of it sent warnings to her. Yet the youth merely smiled faintly. "There is no need to fear." His voice was quiet, serene. There was no hostility in it. Rather, it contained a warmth akin to compassion. "I am one bound to the Shimotski house. By the 'Blood Smoke Covenant' that the fourteenth head of the Shimotski house and this family forged during the great purification of Bunsei a hundred years past, I am enslaved as a member of this household. Therefore, if the relationship is one of master and servant, there is nothing to fear." The youth moved slowly. He brushed the rain from his hair. Even that gesture was natural, graceful. In that moment, Sakiya nearly dropped the curse seal. At the youth's beauty. Ah. Within her heart, Sakiya rebuked herself. That she, a practitioner of the arts striving for perfection, should be captivated by his appearance. It was unbecoming. Unforgivable. "...Who are you?" She forced the words out. That question arose not from a desire to know what he was, but to conceal the turmoil in her own heart. "My name is Aozuki. A hundred years past, during the great purification of Bunsei, the fourteenth head of this lineage forged with me the Blood Smoke Covenant. The Blood Smoke Covenant is a contract sealed when yokai and human exchange their blood. The parties to such a contract bear mutual obligations. For a yokai, the obligation is to protect the master house, and it cannot be dissolved. Since then, I have been enslaved to the Shimotski house." Aozuki spoke thus. His expression held no sorrow. Rather, a quiet resignation seemed deeply rooted within it. "You are..." Aozuki gazed intently at Sakiya. Those azure eyes seemed to see through her entirely. "One who bears the blood of Shimotski. The crescent mark upon your left wrist speaks of it. The proof that marks the Shimotski clan—the moon crest—. ...Sakiya, then." Sakiya instinctively moved to conceal the crescent mark on her left wrist. Yet it was futile. Aozuki already knew all. The rain continued to fall with undiminished intensity. Sakiya's kimono was completely soaked. Aozuki, though he should have been drenched, somehow appeared dry. Perhaps it was because he was yokai. Or perhaps even the rain itself paid him deference, refusing to wet his form. "Do you intend to obstruct the ritual?" Sakiya did not lower her guard. Yet neither did she mean to release the curse seal. She sensed no falsehood in Aozuki's words. "No. Rather, it is my role to protect the spiritual veins of this house. If you are to perform the ritual, then it is the duty of one bound as I am to aid you." Aozuki drew near to the well's edge, maintaining distance from Sakiya. That consideration brought a faint sense of reassurance to her. "Then continue with the ritual. And..." Aozuki gazed upon Sakiya once more. "To one who seeks perfection: sometimes, imperfection too is beautiful." Sakiya did not understand the meaning of those words. Yet she became aware that Aozuki's gaze rested upon her hands. Upon the curse seal gripped so tightly. Upon the movement that wavered, ever so slightly, with uncertainty. Her agitation had been seen through. Heat rose to Sakiya's cheeks. Shame and something else mingled within her. "I will complete the ritual." So she declared, turning her gaze away from Aozuki. Aozuki smiled faintly. That smile seemed as though moonlight itself were laughing. Sakiya raised the curse seal once more. She wove the seals. She intoned the liturgy. This time, her hands did not shake. Or rather, she suppressed the trembling that should have been there with an iron will. The spiritual vein energy began to flow again. Light kindled within the well. This time, not with the violence of before. Quietly, yet with certainty. Sakiya's incantation rang out through the night rain. Beside her, Aozuki stood in silence. The youth whom the rain did not touch. The yokai bound by the Blood Smoke Covenant of a hundred years past. His deep azure eyes gazed upward toward the heavens. No. That was not so. Aozuki's gaze followed Sakiya. Her incantation. Her movements. That small imperfection hidden within her perfection. The wheels of fate began to turn, slowly, yet with certainty. In the rain-dark night. The meeting of two souls quietly began its tale.

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Episode 2

Name: Forbidden Love of the Onmyoji - The Demon's Bond and Ritual's End
Author: Novelia

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