Who is This Guy !gwSNAAKE5k 2012/05/28 (Mon) 05:08 No. 156989 ▼ File 133818169749.jpg - (222.41KB, 1500x934 , sorry for the delay fellas.jpg)
Perhaps not.
Youkai are not social creatures. I do not understand what Kogasa attempts to gain by following me, but I’m about out of uses for her. She has shown me to a perfect feeding ground, told me that I am not to prey upon the endless supply of treats, yet gives me no indication as to why I should refrain. Despite her vague reasoning, or perhaps because of it I will show no such reluctance. If necessary, I will draw out the force that is so feared by Kogasa and put an end to it. There will not be another opportunity like this for some time and I have not survived for so long by squandering my changes for a meal over a contest of territory.
However, a thought does cross my mind. Despite my abilities and strength I cannot call myself invincible. Scars are not so easily forgotten, and the reason I have acquired mine is simply due to my own carelessness in my methods of hunting. I had underestimated my enemy and had paid dearly for doing so. My instinct tells me that I should simply take what I want and damn the consequences, but I cannot allow the same mistake again. I will not underestimate the humans within the village walls. Perhaps they themselves are the danger that has Kogasa shaking in her boots. Considering that this village is surrounded by forest, and that said forest is likely to be inhabited by no small number of dangerous beasts, the humans here must have some way to defend itself. Humans skilled in killing youkai are my number one concern. Whatever is “protecting” the others is a close second. I do still intend to draw it out, but I will not do so carelessly. If I wish to hide, I will not be found.
And to avoid being detected, I must place myself away from this settlement’s center. Perhaps, if I take up residence at the border of or within the forest, I will not draw as much attention. There were a few human structures I had passed on the way here. Finding one that is unoccupied or has fallen into disrepair should not prove difficult. I should take up residence and attempt to blend in with the population here. I can hide the more unusual elements of my appearance as I have done since the village first came into view, and unlike Kogasa the color of my hair and eyes fall well within the realm of “normal” as far as a human-analogue appearance is concerned. An excellent plan, if I do say so myself.
But excellent, only providing it succeeds. I am still unfamiliar with human customs, let alone my looking like one personally.
I make an about face and head back out into the open road. The spaces between houses and alleyways are fine and all, but I feel stifled. The smells are less powerful when on the road as well. Do all human settlements smell of manure? My personal dealings dictate yes, and this is by far the cleanest settlement I’ve seen to date. Filth is in no short supply, don’t get me wrong, but the supply is a bit more thinly-stretched than in the larger establishments. The streets are slowly growing crowded as the sun begins to dim; humans around me scuttle about in search of food. They don’t have to look very far, as street vendors all along this stretch of road are more than eager to unload their various goods to those willing to buy. I seem to have gotten turned around and stumbled into the human food market.
“Hey cutie,” I overhear one say, “Just for you, this one’s half price!”
The others spout similar nonsense as I walk past. I find it rather amusing at first, but then I start to wonder... Are they selling foodstuffs or attempting to breed with the buyers? Perhaps both at once? Unnerving to say the least. I will not attempt to dwell on it, lest an unpleasant mental image take hold.
I find Kogasa, whom I had lost in the earlier confusion, hovering over a stand near the end; one that emanates a rather sweet smell. Seeing her takes the previous topic’s hold on my mind away and replaces it with an equally unpleasant thought. After yelling at her before, should I apologize? Is it not human nature to err? Am I not human?
Alas, I am not, and I find little want for apology. She may appreciate the thought were I to have such inclinations, but I am content in her finding disappointment for placing hope in such wishful thinking.
“Kogasa,” I say, taking her by the shoulder. She startles, the blank, drooly look on her face vanishing as quickly as I grab her.
“Oh,” she sighs, almost appearing relieved to see me. Perhaps it is not so much her seeing me as it is I am in one piece that causes her to sigh. Then again, she barely manages to let out a meek, “Hi.”
“We’re leaving,” I say, eager to put my plan into motion. Dawdling around in the busiest street in a human town is one sure-fire way for a youkai to find themselves drawn and quartered. Or worse. I push her shoulder in the direction in which I want her to move, and despite an initial resistance she complies.
“You know,” she says, “You don’t have to push. I’m plenty capable of walking on my own.”
“You seem plenty capable of getting the humans’ attention as well,” I grumble, relenting my pushiness only insofar as to keep from drawing unwanted attention, “They’ll kill you, you know.”
“They won’t,” she says, “I come up here all the time.”
“…Huh?” I’m not sure I understand her meaning.
“They’re probably used to it by now,” she keeps talking, ignoring my surprise, “as far as I know, we’re a common sight in these parts.”
“…You lost me. Who exactly is ‘we’?”
“Youkai.”
She smiles as if I should know this. I feel dumbfounded and foolish, and her words play hell with no small number of my assumptions about the humans here. Normally, the pattern is simple: Youkai eat humans for food. Humans kill youkai in defense. One and the other cannot coexist. This is fact. This is set in stone.
Normally. Stone can erode, given enough time.
We find ourselves far enough from the main roads that I can ask her openly. If need be, we can talk at length. I’m always open to hearing a good youkai joke.
“You’re telling me that the humans here won’t kill us on sight?” I ask, dreading the answer. No matter how she replies I’ll look stupid for asking, but I need to hear it from her lips. Nothing less will do for my curiosity.
“So long as we don’t try and eat them, no,” again, she smiles, “The old man at the stall back there gives me a freebie once a week, actually.”
“…”
I’m at a loss for words. How does one normally feel when the one thing they believe to be absolute truth is suddenly yanked out from under them? The youkai here do not eat humans. There’s one. The humans here don’t hunt youkai. There’s two. The old man at the stall gives free food to his natural predators?! Perhaps next Kogasa will tell me that snakes and frogs live in peace and harmony, stopping by every so often for mid-afternoon tea? Perhaps the sun is the moon, and the moon just packed its bags and left because it was fed up with the lack of attention? I am first taken aback by the absurdity of the words spilling from Kogasa’s mouth. I find it so illogical—so absolutely, utterly inconceivable that I cannot help but laugh. Her revenge for my earlier outburst is without a doubt an icy-cold dagger to the face.
Then, the apprehension dissolves; I’m forced into understanding her words are without ill intent. She was being honest. I feel a cold sweat coming on. Humans feeding youkai? Of all the—
“Are you alright?” she asks as my rear takes up residence on the nearest rock, “You look a little pale.”
“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
“No,” she says sincerely, “I’m not.”
“The human feeds you?”
“It’s delicious,” she holds out a bag, a sweet smell emanates from within, “I asked nicely, so he gave me one for you, too.”
“Ugh,” I bury my head in my arms, “being fed by a human…”
So in my absence, youkai have been reduced to accepting food from humans? Being fed by them. Like pets. Pathetic. Had I wanted to be coddled, fed and called cutesy names like “Bubbles” I would have stayed underground. Here, I had thought that youkai keeping other youkai as pets was bad enough. But no, I was sorely mistaken. Much worse is possible. Much, much worse.
I would very much like to grab that bag and fling it out to where I can no longer see or smell it, but to do so would require that I acknowledge its existence. I could fling it across the world if I so wished, but though I would be unable to see and smell it, the mere fact that it exists would still plague me. Nothing personal against the bag, of course. I’m simply revolted by everything it stands for.
“Oh, mother, how I weep for my people,” I say, using the sardonic tone to mask true despair. No matter how much I make light of the situation, I am still reminded that Kogasa behaves no differently that a tamed animal.
“You don’t want it?” Kogasa asks, foolishly unable to understand her current place in the eyes of humans.
“No,” I say, unable to muster the strength for another angry outburst, “no I don’t want it. You keep it.”
“Yaay~!” Her smile is a single ray of sunshine in a hurricane of hate.
“Forgive me for not leaping for joy, Kogasa,” I grumble, “bad back, you know.”
Can we not just get a move on? Can I not wipe this moment in history from existence and get on with my life? I wonder if there are other youkai still in existence who wish to maintain even a small shred of their former pride and glory. Hats off to the one who has caused the rest to fall so far.
I pull my unwilling body to its feet, and force it to continue trudging forward. I try to leave the past few moments of memory behind on that rock, but the gloom sticks to me and drags me down like asphalt. I know I will need to come to terms with it at some point, but not now. I have much else to worry about, though being killed by humans seems to have fallen far down on my ‘Top Ten list of Horrible Ways to wind up Dead’ list. Perhaps being brutally skewered aboard a derelict ship was not such a bad idea after all.
Too much walking yet not enough silence later, we come to the edge of the village. Kogasa is still happily munching on the fish-shaped pastry given to her by the human, and I am finding the outskirts considerably lacking in run-down old shacks to commandeer. Frustrated, I start to turn back. Kicking dirt into the air does little to quell my anger.
“What about that one?” Kogasa asks, pointing off into the distance. I see something off in the distance beyond a field of grain, though it is too far for me to ascertain any details.
“You can see that far?” I ask, wondering if she sees something in the distance that I cannot.
“Yep!” she smiles at me, “I know you think I’m unimpressive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a trick or two up my sleeve.”
“We can agree on one thing, you really aren’t at all impressive.” For starters, she lets herself be fed by humans and—oh dear there I go again.
Begrudgingly, I allow myself to be lead. Kogasa knows this village better than I and, as far as I can tell she’s also well-suited for the task of conversing with humans. My skill at both ranks between poor and dismal, and I am not above letting this pet of a youkai do the talking.
We come to a house. Surprise, surprise. Frankly, I’m unimpressed by it. Kogasa’s vision is nothing to scoff at, however.
The house appears to have been recently inhabited, and all signs show that it still is occupied. Had I my way, I would come in through the roof. Perhaps, take the place by force at night when the occupants are most vulnerable. Two positives here: I get at least one meal, and I acquire a house. I could also let Kogasa do her human-pet thing, but that would just be pathetic. I can’t say I’m all that limited as to where I can go from here.
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