35 An Unbroken Thread

  [Player: Kazuki Arata]

  [Level: 5]

  [Waza: Black Hand, Thread Cutter, Aura Sense, Regeneration, Dark Rider, Retribution, Eviscerate, Adaptive Survival]

  [Kegare: 88% (Critical Overload – Dissolving)]

  [Status: Disoriented | Stabilizing?]

  [Objective: Survive the Self]

  ---

  Kuro knelt over Kazuki's trembling form. Would she let him slip away into oblivion? Could she ever?

  No birds sang. No animals moved in the forest. Silence among the old wooden houses, their beams half-collapsed, of the long deserted town on the peninsula. The battered remnants of animated tools and furniture - tsukumogami -crowded around the human and yokai visitors at their center. Furo bathtubs, tansu cupboards, rakes and calligraphy brushes had all come alive in this forgotten place. They stood amongst a vase swathe of destruction, their own kin broken and smashed to dust and yet their makeshift faces had no real expression. Kuro looked at them. Why were they watching?

  Kazuki Arata lay near the splintered doorway of what had once been the largest building in town. The dusty tatami he'd fought on moments earlier was now shredded and scattered with hills and valleys of broken furniture, remains of the battle that had shattered his spirit as well as so many of the tsukumogami. Long black veins crept over his arms, his cheeks, even the tips of his ears. Tiny flakes of his skin, black and brittle as charred paper, drifted away every time he exhaled, as if he were a burned-out ember.

  He had torn through so many tsukumogami, culminating in an enormous, lumbering Goliath forming from the accumulated debris. The violence had fueled his kegare - the inner corruption that gave him monstrous strength. But too much destruction had pushed him far beyond the safe limit. Now the same corruption was devouring him alive.

  [Kegare: 88%]

  [Warning: Structural Integrity Failing. Self-Annihilation Imminent.]

  Kuro's sharp eyes caught a faint flicker of movement at the far edge of the decaying courtyard. A small shape slid into view—a boy with fox ears, carrying a pot.

  Fleet.

  He took a single step forward, saw Kazuki's condition, and dropped the pot and sack he'd been holding. Vegetables and dried seaweed spilled out onto the warped planks. "K-Kazuki…?" The kitsune's amber eyes were wide with horror.

  Kuro was kneeling at Kazuki's side, one arm around his shoulders. He was half-conscious, lips parted as if about to ask a question. Kuro inhaled. She could feel her heart beating fast, so close to Kazuki. How strange!

  Fleet scrambled forward, ignoring the scattered miso soup ingredients. "He's breaking!" he whispered. His trembling hand touched Kazuki's forehead, flinching back when a fleck of black crust came away under his fingertips. "Why is this happening?!"

  Kuro swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "He… lost control," she murmured. "Too much destruction. Kegare always surges when he fights. Kazuki stopped fighting but it was too late. This time, it's devouring him."

  A fresh wave of black flakes drifted from Kazuki's cheeks. A brittle, papery exhalation came from his lips.

  Fleet made a soft, anguished sound, fists clenching.

  Kuro's golden eyes shone, although there was no one but Fleet to see. When did I start caring this much? The thought sliced through her mind, sharp and unwelcome. This human had always been just a means to an end. Yet slowly, she gathered Kazuki into her lap, guiding his head against her chest. "Don't... just don't... you idiot," she whispered, voice unsteady. Her slender fingers slid into his dark hair, brushing it back. She cradled him, stroking his hair softly again and again.

  Never, ever, had she done this before or felt this before. Kuro didn't want to lose Kazuki and that frightened her.

  He opened his eyes. They were completely black but Kuro could see them moving. His gaze flicked to Fleet, then back to Kuro. He seemed confused, as if he didn't entirely recognize them.

  Fleet wiped tears from his cheeks. Then he took a small breath, forcing steadiness. "W-we need to help him, right? I'll…" His voice caught. "I'll find something. Or… maybe I can do some fox magic. Or…"

  "Fleet," Kuro murmured gently, "stay calm."

  Kazuki was still breathing. Kuro could feel each shallow inhale. The black flakes drifting from his body made her think of a charcoal drawing, half-erased.

  Kuro herself didn't know what to do. All she could do was hold him. As she did she looked around and saw the piles and piles of obliterated tsukumogami, the houses that had been standing for one hundred years or more, the stones and trees themselves, all smashed crushed and destroyed by Kazuki as his kegare corruption escalated into a black cycle of obliteration and power. Destruction fed it. Destruction...

  Destruction? Something lit up in Kuro's feline eyes. She turned to Fleet. "Wait. You said you were going to make soup, right?"

  Fleet blinked, sniffling. "I… uh, yes, but…."

  "Then do it," she said firmly.

  He stared at her. "What good is soup going to…"

  "Do it.”

  The fox boy nodded, gulping. Kuro shifted, pulling one of Kazuki's hands forward, hooking it in her own. "We'll help him do it, together."

  Fleet stood up, shifting to his teenage human shape so he could manage the pot and small knife that he had stolen, along with some ingredients, from a human settlement two or three miles east of there the night before. His tail flicked behind him as he rushed to gather what he'd dropped—dried seaweed, miso paste, vegetables.

  All the while, the tsukumogami watched in eerie silence. They formed a wide ring around the deserted courtyard. Some had maintained their original forms - tatami mats, yakan tea kettles, paper umbrellas and so much more. Others had re-formed into hunching shapes clinging to each other in efigies of the human shape after the battle had broken them, but they no longer approached. Perhaps they sensed that raw destruction had given way to something else. They were animated objects with no purpose or place, watching Kuro and Fleet and Kazuki like planets orbiting a star.

  Kuro leaned to Kazuki, whispering fiercely, "You will help us make this soup, do you hear? Even if you can barely move, I need you to focus."

  He stared up at her. Something in her tone must have reached him, because his black-veined fingers twitched.

  Fleet found a battered old iron pot rolling in the debris. An actual pot, not animated. He placed it on a stable bit of half-collapsed stones, apparently an old cooking hearth. Working quickly, he built a small fire from leftover timbers. His hands shook.

  Kuro slid behind Kazuki, supporting his back. She guided his hand toward the pot. "We're going to make miso soup," she murmured, as if explaining to a child. "Even if you can only move your fingers, you'll help do it. …All right?"

  Kazuki gave a faint, ragged noise. The black cracks in his skin glowed ominously.

  Fleet poured water into the pot and set it over the fire. Then he rummaged through the small cloth bag of ingredients he'd stolen: dried kelp, some miso, small bits of tofu, a half-wilted daikon. He looked up at Kuro uncertainty.

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  She nodded. "You chop the daikon. I'll handle Kazuki."

  Fleet went to get water from a nearby stream. He returned quickly and dropped to his knees, furiously dicing up the vegetables with a small knife. Then he tossed them in the simmering water, ignoring the gaze of a handful of tsukumogami that had crept closer.

  Kuro covered Kazuki's hand with hers, forcing his stiff, black-stained fingers to pick up a bit of dried kelp. "Drop it in," she told him softly. "Focus. We're *making* this. Not destruction."

  He breathed in and out, a faint rattle in each breath. Slowly, the kelp slipped from his trembling grip into the pot.

  His game-like UI flickered faintly although Kuro couldn't see it:

  [Kegare: 88% → 86%]

  It was barely a change, but she felt something - his breathing, or perhaps the feel of his body touching hers. She pressed Kazuki's hand to her cheek for an instant. "That's it," she whispered, so quietly that only he could hear.

  Fleet added in tofu cubes, stirring with a wide wooden spoon. Then, with gentle guidance from Kuro, Kazuki spooned in the miso, stirring in slow circles.

  The battered ring of ancient furniture gazed on in silent wonder, or perhaps simply motionless watchfulness. The old wind-lantern, the tattered sliding door, bits of straw sandals—none advanced. They parted around them, forming a hushed perimeter.

  The soup began to simmer softly. The fire cracked under the pot. Kazuki's ragged breathing smoothed out… only a little, but enough that he no longer seemed on the cusp of vanishing. When the brew was done, Fleet spooned some into a battered wooden bowl. "Kazuki," he said, kneeling, voice trembling with relief. "Are you... hungry?"

  Kazuki managed to turn his head, eyes unfocused. Then, as if uncertain how to respond, he just stared at Fleet.

  But Kuro lifted the bowl to his lips, supporting his chin. "Drink," she ordered softly.

  He did, swallowing a mouthful of the salty, comforting soup. He coughed, nearly choking at first. Then he took another sip, eyes fluttering shut.

  [Kegare: 86% → 72%… → 61%]

  [Holding it together]

  The black veins receded from Kazuki's face and arms, no longer flaking. His eyes changed from black marble to dark brown and white. He slumped against Kuro, as though the tension in his body had abruptly released. Sweat mingled with dust on his brow.

  Fleet gave a tearful half-laugh, half-sob, reaching to squeeze Kazuki's shoulder. "He's… okay," he breathed.

  Kuro's eyes shone. She suppressed a wave of relief, turning to the pot. She helped herself to a small bowl of soup, too, surprising Fleet—Kuro rarely ate anything but fish or raw mice that she caught. But this time she sipped it carefully. "Huh," she muttered, "Not bad, Fleet."

  Fleet exhaled a shaky grin, wiping tears with the back of his wrist.

  They sat there in the hush of early morning, the sky settling into a brilliant blue overhead. The tsukumogami ring never entirely dispersed, but it kept a respectful distance. Their posture wasn't menacing, more... watchful.

  Eventually, Kazuki managed to sit on his own. His color had returned, though faint lines of black lingered around his forearms, hands and neck, brands of near-fatal corruption. Yet he was alive, lucid enough to manage small sips of soup unaided.

  When the last drop was drained, he set the bowl aside. "Thank you," he rasped. His gaze moved uncertainly between Kuro and Fleet, as if trying to piece together what had happened. Then he managed a shaky laugh. "That was... maybe the best miso soup I've ever had."

  Fleet nodded vigorously. "Kazuki, you looked so scary. I didn't know if you'd—" His voice broke.

  Kazuki set a reassuring hand on the kitsune's shoulder. A fleeting wave of warmth passed between them.

  [Kegare: 58%]

  Kuro cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "We should get out of this place." She spared a glance at the throng of still-lurking tsukumogami. "They're not attacking now, but I don't trust them."

  Kazuki nodded, still unsteady. "Agreed."

  He tried to stand, wobbled, and Fleet leapt to his side for support. Kuro watched him closely, but she simply gave a curt nod. "Come on."

  They left the ruined building. The animate relics of the deserted town parted around them—some with splintered bodies from the earlier battle, others drifting intact. It felt more like an *escort* than an attack, a strange silent parade of battered objects.

  No one said a word until they'd reached the outskirts of the settlement. There, on the weed-choked path that led away, Kazuki paused. He turned to face the quiet legion of tsukumogami behind them—chairs, shelves, broken teapots, shattered doors.

  "I'm sorry," he said, voice low. For a moment, the hush grew deeper. The collection of half-living objects swayed faintly. Then, in a single, silent motion, they all turned away, drifting back into the deserted town.

  They walked for nearly two hours. The wooded peninsula sloped gently upward, with glimpses of the ocean through gnarled pines. Kazuki's legs felt like dead weight, but every mile that passed reminded him he was no longer dissolving. He pressed forward, leaning on Fleet whenever the world spun. Kuro scouted ahead in her cat form, returning intermittently.

  Just before midday, they reached another settlement. It was modest but alive with the bustle of *humans*—distinct from the emptiness behind them. Fields of barley and vegetables sprawled behind clusters of low-roofed houses. Smoke curled from cooking fires. The faint smell of grilled fish and clay ovens teased their nostrils, making Fleet's mouth water.

  Kazuki summoned what was left of his strength, smoothing back his matted hair. "We should at least see if we can buy supplies," he said hoarsely.

  Kuro grimaced. "Remember the last fishing port? Humans think you're cursed."

  Fleet's fox tail dropped. "But we can't keep sneaking around."

  Kazuki nodded, swallowing his anxiety. "We'll just... talk to them, calmly."

  They approached the village from a winding dirt path that led past low walls. A young woman carrying a basket of laundry happened to spot them. She froze, eyes going wide at the sight of Kuro's half-cat ears and Fleet's fox tail. Then she glanced at Kazuki—whose arms still showed black lines. Her face twisted in terror.

  "Monsters!" she shrieked, dropping the basket. Linen spilled across the dusty path. Then she fled, screaming at the top of her lungs.

  Within moments, the entire settlement rang with alarm. Doors slammed shut, children's cries filled the air, even farm animals scattered. Kazuki, Kuro, and Fleet had barely stepped onto the main road when a shabby militia surged into view—a dozen or more men carrying pitchforks, spears, or battered swords, plus three on horseback.

  "Stop!" bellowed one man, presumably their leader, hoisting a crude spear from on top of an old horse. "Who are you beasts?! We won't have yokai filth in our village!"

  Kazuki tried raising his hands, showing he meant no harm. "We're travelers," he managed, voice dry and tired. "We're not looking for a fight."

  But the men fanned out, forming a half-circle. The leader spat on the ground. "Look at them. Corrupted demon, fox spawn, and a black cat."

  Kuro's eyes narrowed. Fleet stepped behind Kazuki's shoulder, ears pinned flat.

  Kazuki felt a tremor in his core. The men's hostility was a tangible force. But they were... weak. He could cut through them in moments. It would be so easy...

  No.

  He forced himself to keep his voice calm. "We have money. We just want to buy food…"

  "Shut up!" roared a second man, face contorted with fear. "We protect our own from demons!"

  The mob advanced, raising makeshift weapons. A few villagers carried old spears or bows.

  Kazuki raised his arms, chest tight.

  Kuro could almost see the kegare, smell it, like a promise - and this time it wouldn't be animated boxes and chairs. This time Kazuki would be covered in blood. So she stepped forward, slipping between him and the militia.

  "You dare threaten him?" she growled, voice low with an undercurrent of lethal promise. "This man could rip this entire village apart with a thought."

  "Kuro…" Kazuki hissed.

  The men brandishing pitchforks froze under her glare. She pointed a claw-tipped finger at the militia's leader. "And he is not even half as powerful as I! One move against us, and I'll bring devastation on your pathetic settlement."

  That leader, perched on a dun-colored horse, tried to hide the tremor in his voice. "Y-you can't scare us. If you try anything…"

  A hiss escaped Kuro's lips. "If you so much as point that spear at us again, I'll incinerate your fields and shatter your walls."

  Kazuki's eyes widened. "Kuro, don't…!"

  Kuro's golden irises flared. "This realm is nothing to me. One spell and you're all ashes."

  Kazuki looked at her. Wait... what? Spell?

  Fleet whispered, "K-Kuro, you can do that? Are you… some sort of sorceress?"

  Kuro shifted her gaze to him, smirking. She twisted her head, glancing over her shoulder.

  Fleet followed her gaze.

  Down the road behind them, the shapes began to appear: a creeping mass of old furniture, broken tools, tattered tatami mats… the legion of tsukumogami had followed them from the deserted town. They advanced in near silence, an army of animated relics looking for a home, drawn to the thing they craved alone in all the world - the presence of humans. A horde of battered teapots, splintered cupboards, half a dozen door frames hobbling on broken hinges, a monstrous wardrobe missing a door...

  ...all slowly moving forward in a single unstoppable wave.

  ---

  [Achievement Unlocked: Home Cooking]

  [Next Chapter: 36 Blossoms and Cages]

  Thanks for reading!

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  I also wanted to recommend another story I've been enjoying: Kinetica: Dominion of Ash & Arcane by Aarith. It's a cool magical/steampunk setting with a really interesting film-noir vibe and unique magic system. Check it out!

  What do you think is going on with Suzume right about now?

  Drop your theories in the comments—I read every one.