Chapter 4: Helpful Insanity

“Hello?” Sakura called out uncertainly. It didn’t look like a branch broken by the wind. Was it a large dog? A person? How had it even gotten under the tree without her seeing it cross the yard?

When the mound remained motionless, she crept forward. As she neared, she realized it was a person, crumpled up as if in pain. Her usual caution forgotten, she dropped her umbrella and darted to his side.

“Hello, are you okay?” He groaned in response as she shook his shoulder. A warm wetness coated the tips of her fingers as she pulled away her hand. In the low light, something darkened her hand. Blood? Multiple tears littered his shirt, the pale skin underneath marred with wounds.

“Wait here. I’ll call for help.”

She stood to run into the house, but he grabbed her ankle. The hand gripping her had the usual five digits, but each slim finger was tipped with extraordinarily long, pointed fingernails. They were almost claw-like. He was looking up at her, his long, white hair plastered against his face by the rain. His ears were large and came to a point near the top. Such deformities would have made him an easy target for some of the local thugs that roamed the nearby shopping district at night. It was early for them to be out, but if he’d stumbled into one of their hangouts, no one would notice them attacking.

“Hiro, is that you?” The weak voice sounded unsure and confused. Before she could respond, his grip slackened and he fell unconscious again. To use Ito-san’s given name like that…was this man a close friend of his?

A sharp gust of wind blasted her. She couldn’t just leave him there, but she was getting colder and wetter with every passing second. She tossed her umbrella on the porch before hurrying inside. It would be easy to call emergency services, wiping her hands of him. Her sensible side said to do just that, but her instincts were telling her that someone so unusual looking would not be well served by local authorities. If he was a friend of Ito-san’s, she was obligated to do something to help him. Besides, she was curious to know who he was. She could only think of one person, other than her dead father, that Ito-san had called a close friend. But those had just been fairy tales to calm a frightened child, right?

Decision made, she turned the kerosene heater to high and set some blankets, towels, and the first-aid kit on the floor before heading back outside. He was still unconscious. She turned him on his back while keeping her arms threaded under his.

“Here we go.” Her shoes slid in the wet mud, sending her to the ground butt first. Cold water soaked through the skirt of her school uniform. Gritting her teeth, she got back up and resumed her previous stance. She shifted her feet slightly to find better purchase then tugged. Five centimeters down, only 411 more to go before they would reach the porch.

Tug by tug, she somehow managed to drag the heavier man along, aided by the slippery mud while questioning her sanity. If this wasn’t overexerting herself, what was? At times, his feet shifted a bit as if he subconsciously tried to help, but his eyes remained shut. How she got him up the two steps to the porch without falling again, she didn’t know.

Once his feet cleared the doorway, she let herself fall backwards with the man lying half on top of her as she tried to catch her breath. The burning in her arms, legs, and back were background noise to the tortured screams of her lungs. Every ragged breath was pure agony. The pounding of her heart filled her ears in protest. If she lay there, would the vise grip tightening in her chest make her heart stop beating altogether? Tempt death by lying there and waiting, or try to finish helping the man she may have just killed herself for?

With a grunt, she dragged herself to the school bag she’d left against the wall. She grabbed two containers from the front pouch and set them beside her. Control the breathing first, then the heart. With practiced, if shaky movements, she positioned her inhaler and breathed in as she pressed the top. With the dose delivered, she held her breath and counted to ten.

The inhaler fell to her lap as she grabbed the spray bottle. A moment later, the needed dose of nitroglycerin was under her tongue. She closed her mouth and started the timer on her watch. When she’d first started using it, she’d learned not to watch the time count down. It only made the five minutes of stillness seem even longer.

Finally, her heart dropped out of warp speed and the usual sharp pains began stabbing her head.

“Okay, we’ve got maybe ten minutes.”

With slow, uneven steps, she made her way back across the room to slide the paper door shut. There was no time to be shy. She pulled at the man’s wet clothes, but with him lying so still she couldn’t get them off. The sleeves of the white shirt and the legs of the matching pants were puffy like parachutes. Even wet, the fabric felt like silk. But she couldn’t find any buttons or clasps that might help her remove them. Whispering a promise to replace them later, she used the scissors from her first-aid kit to cut them off. She left the sand-colored loincloth covering his groin untouched. Averting her gaze from that spot, she managed to tug the ankle-high, tan-and-white moccasins from his feet.

She used the towels to dry his skin with quick, rough strokes. His long body was lean but well muscled. From the expensive nature of his garments and the gold chain and pendant around his neck, she guessed he was well off. And yet, his ears and fingernails were so odd, why didn’t he pay to have them fixed so he would look normal?

The man moaned and shifted a bit, then went still again. As she wrapped a towel around his long hair, she noticed his mouth had come open. Are those fangs? With one finger, she gently pulled back his lip, revealing that his eyeteeth were indeed long and sharp. The rest of his teeth were more regularly sized, but also pointed. What sort of genetic mutation could cause this?

It was something to find out later, though. For now, she turned her attention to his wounds. Most were sets of marks with ragged edges, grouped in threes and fours. They reminded her of claw marks like she’d seen in books on big cats. Glancing back at his hand, she realized that he, likely, could make such wounds. Which meant someone else was like him—someone who had attacked him? The thought made her uneasy. She could feel her mind growing fuzzier. She quickly dabbed the wounds with antiseptic and taped bandages on them.

One of the wounds was noticeably different from the rest. On his side, a long, straight, clean line was bleeding more than the others. She froze at the sight. That kind of wound she knew: the wound left by a sharp blade. A shudder ran through her as she forced the image of a blood-soaked knife aside. She taped the largest bandage she had on the wound, adding extra gauze to soak up the blood, then threw the blanket over him to keep him warm.

“I hope this will be enough.” Her voice sounded thick and muffled to her own ears. Quickly, she pulled off her wet clothes, throwing them on top of his in the nearby pile. As she dried herself, her arms grew heavier with every second. After dropping the towel twice while drying her hair, she left it on the floor and tried to stand. Her body refused to obey. Time was up.

The effort it had taken to bring him into the house and the powerful medicines she’d taken to stay alive were demanding their due. She’d never make it upstairs to her own bed. Unwilling to risk catching a cold by sleeping in the open air, she crawled under the only blanket available, turning her back to the stranger. Before the darkness claimed her, she prayed to the gods that she wouldn’t come to regret her impulsive rescue.

When Kazuki awoke, he had a vague sense that something was not right. Blinking away his lethargic state, he looked up to see a plain white thing that he supposed would pass for a ceiling; the walls of the room just as plain. Functional enough, he supposed, but he was clearly not in any room in the castle.

His head felt heavy. When he reached up to touch it, he found a rough cloth covering it. Pulling it away, he held the dark-blue thing in his hand, studying it curiously. It looked much like a drying cloth, though of rather low quality. With a mental shrug, he dropped it beside him then pushed himself into a sitting position.

A sharp pain speared through his side. Glaring at the spot, he noticed his wounds were covered with clean cotton squares. The scent of bitter medicines burned through his nose, as did the overwhelming scent of humans. Was he in the human world? But how?

He remembered grabbing the stone to escape Yuji’s silent onslaught. Just as the gem had activated, he’d heard a voice calling him. He was certain it had been Hiro’s voice, but he couldn’t remember exactly what it had said. Perhaps the gem had erred and read his flash of recognition as his desired destination.

Inhaling deeply, he realized that the most prominent human scent wasn’t Hiro’s. It was distinctly feminine and came from beside him. Looking down, he found a woman curled into a fetal position, sleeping. A trail of dirt led from a spot a few feet behind them through a door. Someone must have dragged him inside, but who?

This girl looked too small and weak to have been able to move him an inch, but the only scent he could detect was hers, and his sensitive ears couldn’t pick up any movement anywhere else in the house. As far as he could determine, they were alone.

Long, jet-black hair framed her ghostly white face. His sitting up had loosened the blanket, revealing her to be in the same state of near nakedness as he was, except for the thin white top covering her torso. She was far too thin for his taste, but decent looking enough for a human he supposed. Was she perhaps a concubine left for his use by whoever owned this estate? Probably not. He was pretty sure humans didn’t do such things anymore.

The girl’s breathing took on a ragged, harassed quality. Her eyes pinched tightly together as she moaned and thrashed about. As a whimper escaped her lips, he shook her shoulder to wake her from the nightmare. She bolted up, her eyes wide open in fear, her breathing coming in short, rapid spurts as tiny tremors racked her body. He rubbed her back in small circles to offer her comfort until she could regain her composure.

“Are you okay?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to frighten her any more.

“Yes. It was just an old memory.” After a few deep breaths, she turned to look at him. There seemed to be no fear in her gray eyes, only mild curiosity.

“I see. Well, it would seem I am in your debt. You aided me when I was in need. Arigato gozaimasu.”[16]

“It was nothing. How are your wounds?” Her arms trembled as she reached to check his bandages. Again he didn’t get the impression that she was afraid, at least not of him. Perhaps the shivering was a remnant of the nightmare or the slight chill in the air.

He already knew none of his wounds were serious. They would be fully healed in a few days, at most. For now, he kept that knowledge to himself and sat quietly while the girl finished her inspection. When she was done, she shifted her legs under her and tried to stand. He caught her as she fell, ignoring a fresh spurt of pain from his side as he gently eased her back to the floor.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired. I’m sure you must be hungry. I’ll make dinner in a few minutes. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Truthfully I am, but please rest as long as you need. It would be hard for you to make anything if you hurt yourself from falling.”

He almost missed the brief smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. With a sigh heavy with resignation, she crawled around him to sit against the wall, pulling some of the blanket with her to cover herself.

Unbothered by his own lack of clothing, he skipped the blanket and moved beside her to give himself a better view of the room.

It was only six tatami[17] in size, smaller than some of the castle’s closets, but he didn’t feel as claustrophobic as he would have expected. Dark shelves lined the wall opposite where they sat, with various odds and ends filling the little square alcoves. To his delight, a large black box took up the center section of the wall. A television! Though he had heard much about them, he’d never had the chance to watch one. He’d long wondered why humans found them so enjoyable. In the corner near the sliding doors, sat a small wooden rectangular cabinet of some kind, positioned on a matching stand. The wood was dark and had rich red tones in it. The handles on its doors were a dark metal he didn’t recognize. It was a rather pretty box.

Though the knick-knacks had changed and the television was new, the smell of the house was familiar. This was definitely Hiro’s house, or at least had been when they’d last met. Every place had its own unique core scent; only the nuances changed with time. Had Hiro moved? From his studies of humans, he’d learned that they changed residences quite often, and it had been many years since they’d seen each other.

“Um, I’m Sakura. Takeshi Sakura.” The girl’s quiet voice had a slightly husky quality.

Kazuki debated how to answer. What he should tell her? The human world was not the place it once was; travel advisories had been issued long ago to his people and were renewed every decade. Revealing one’s true nature to the wrong person might result in a violent response or, worse, capture and scientific study. It was safer to reveal oneself only to those who already had long ties to his world and could be trusted. Otherwise, it was recommended to use a glam spell to appear human throughout one’s travels.

Still, this girl had already seen him in his true form and sat beside him with no hints of ill intent. Wrapped in the comforting scent of the house, he decided to take a chance.

“Kazukiarama Yygralenu Throklamanasa. Please, call me Kazuki. Seeing as we are being rather informal at the moment, may I call you Sakura?”

“If you wish. You have an unusual name.”

“Yes, I suppose it is, to a human.”

She stared at him a long minute before replying. “You say that as if you yourself are not human.”

“I’m not. I am what your people call a yokai. Crown prince to the throne of Throklana, first kingdom of Jalathumesa.” Other than her eyes opening a little wider, her expression barely changed.

“I see. So Ja…ja…la…”

“Jalathumesa. I believe you call it Oni no Sekai[18] in your tongue.”

“Oh. Um, so, where is it, Oni no Sekai?”

“I guess the best description is that it’s in another plane of existence. It is not a place you could walk to or reach by normal means, but our worlds are connected through various portals.”

“Wait, so there is a portal to your world in my yard?”

“Ah, no, though there is one in this area, I believe. I arrived via a transportation gem. It allows us to travel to any place that we’ve been to at least once before, no matter which world it is in.”

“I see.” She nodded as she turned away from him. Did she doubt what he was saying? From what his father had told him, many humans had so lost their belief in those with supernatural natures that they could deny even what they saw with their own eyes.

“I think I’m okay now.” She made another attempt at standing, this time staying on her feet. She looked at him, but he couldn’t decipher the look’s meaning. “I’ll go make dinner, though I should apologize in advance. Nothing I can make is likely to be like the royal foods you would be used to.”

“Oh, anything will be fine. I quite enjoy human foods.” His stomach growled. He’d gained two kilograms when he’d last visited from eating so much.

The girl hesitated a moment, then left him the blanket, quickly wrapping herself in one of the towels lying on the floor. Before leaving the room, she picked up a pile of wet clothes and a pair of muddied white shoes from nearby. He focused his senses to keep track of her. Her bare feet padded through the house, first to the front area then back down the hall. Moments later, the house filled with a mechanical humming and he could hear water running. The gentle vibration of a machine reached him through the floor.

From there she went into the room opposite from where he sat. Small wooden doors opened and closed, followed by a larger door that sounded as if it had a seal of some kind. Guessing it was a refrigerator, he surmised she was now in the kitchen. His stomach growled in anticipation. He’d eaten his morning meal as usual, but he couldn’t remember eating anything else since. He’d been so excited to make up with Yuji that he’d decided to hold off on dinner in hopes that they could eat together.

Pushing aside thoughts of Yuji’s betrayal, he contemplated what he should do now. If he returned home, there was every possibility Yuji would come after him again, forcing him to defend himself. Would he have to hurt his brother, or worse? An image of Yuji lying in his arms flashed through his mind. No, no, he couldn’t bear the thought. He couldn’t hurt his baby brother. There had to be some explanation, some way to stop all this. But if he went home and somehow captured Yuji to force him to talk, the advisers might force his hand. If they learned of Yuji’s attack, it might be ruled treason, and his brother would be executed.

I’ll stay here. I wanted to come visit soon anyway, and at least if I’m here, things might settle down. Maybe Yuji is sick or something. Once Father returns, he can make sense of this. Until then, perhaps that girl will be generous enough to let me stay the night. Then I can go find Hiro tomorrow. If she lives in his old house, she might even know where he is.

Satisfied with his plan, he rested his eyes while he awaited his meal.