[Kisei Takatō]

SLEEP NO MORE

It was night, the moon white and full and round. Winter air laced crisp and sharp up Taka’s nose, down his throat. His soft, even breaths came in cold puffs of air, his footsteps silent over the thin layer of powdery snow that coated the old, worn steps of an old, worn temple. He had not slept in four days. There comes a point in a bout of insomnia when exhaustion becomes the whole of your existence; in its totality, it becomes as background noise, the crackling of a radio set to the wrong signal. A fourth, fifth, sixth wind would come in time, spurring the sleepless to manic heights, but for now there was a weight that Taka could not shake from his limbs, a blurring at the edge of his vision that formed shapes in the shadows and lines in the dark. Kaito had visited this temple recently, had been hanging around the area. In the light of day, the idea seemed harmless, but the possibilities of what lurked in the temple seemed more endless and more deadly once the sun had set. Taka laid in bed and closed his eyes and saw visions of cultists, criminals, rabid animals nesting in the rafters. He opened his eyes, and the temple doors stood before him. He did not know how he got there. He elected not to care. The doors creaked softly as Taka pushed them open and stepped inside, moonlight slicing through the entrance in a thin line that widened to a wedge, then a wash. The doors stood ajar, lighting his silent search for the evidence that would vindicate his fear for Kaito’s safety.

Akatsuki -- 277

LAIKA OF THQ

[Akatsuki]

 

- we sang of the grief-

"Your very voice is in my heartbeat, sweeter than despair"

Nightmares had come for her once more, as they often did. Akatsuki woke to a start in the dead of the night, her breathing labored and her eyes panicked as she her mind haunted her with memories of the past. Even after a year, now, it seemed that she could not escape from it as easily as she might have hoped. Even if she was safe, now, it sometimes took gentle reminding for peace to settle in once more.    
    Akatsuki placed a hand on her chest as she slipped out of her bed, bare feet lightly connecting with the cold wood flooring beneath her as she steadied her racing heart. It was warmer inside of the temple than it was outside, but still there was a draft and often a chill within the hallways and living quarters. Wrapping a blanket around her form as she left her bedroom, Akatsuki would not look unlike a ghost as she wandered down the dark hallways. A lantern in one hand cast blue light on her pale features. Dressed in white, with exposed skin displaying mortal wounds and hair white as the falling snow, she would move quietly through the temple stopping only when her eyes noticed the moonlight cast on the entrance floor.
    There, a shadow framed by the soft light, stood a man clad in dark clothing.
    He was not familiar to Akatsuki, and the woman froze in her place as she regarded him. Tall, dark, with a ragged appearance and a look of exhaust in his eyes--it was unusual to find a visitor so late in the evening. And while Akatsuki wondered for a moment if she was in danger--like prey caught while her guard had been lowered--she knew there was the possibility that he was simply a wandering soul in need of help. To arrive at such an hour of the night, in such weather--it was very possible a display of desperation.
    Something she couldn't quite easily ignore.
    "Ah... What brings you to the temple at this hour..?" The woman asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you alright?"

Kisei Takatō | 351 Words | Notes:

Blue Text - Tsuchi Branch Kyōbō Only
Pink Text - Sign language
Violet Text - Common Language

Shin of GS + Adox

[Kisei Takatō]

SLEEP NO MORE

Once the threshold had been breached, Taka—hesitated. There was a weight to this place, a feeling both familiar and not; as though something very old lived in the stones, the mortar, the nails. An ancestral home not so easily vacated. He turned his head, searching for a movement darting through the shadows at the corner of his eye. When he turned back, the temple had conjured a spirit. She was not small, but she was smaller than him, pale as the moonlight that flooded beneath his feet. The lamp she held cast a faint blue tone over her skin—scarred, more fiercely and more deeply than his. He met her gaze, her eyes a burst of mismatched color in a sea of white and for a moment, she looked… not afraid, exactly, but briefly vulnerable. Aware of a moment of vulnerability. Taka thought of the image he must have struck; a slouched, dark figure, snow-dusted, worn and weathered, lurking in the threshold of an old and dangerous home that did not belong to him. He almost turned to leave, to spare the spirit the discomfort of his intrusion. He would have left. But she spoke to him, whisper-soft, not a ghost but a real, living person. She offered him her concern. Are you alright? "Yes, I—” his voice was low, hoarse, and it cracked under the weight of disuse. Taka cleared his throat. "Yes. I’m sorry. Thank you.” The meat and muscle of his vernacular, composited. He stepped back so that he would be better illuminated, let his arms hang loosely at his sides to show he was unarmed. He would be a threat until the day he died, there was nothing he could do about that; and he could not prove the absence of something, least of all intent. But he could provide, if nothing else, the clearest possible view of himself. "I thought there might be something dangerous in the area,” Taka said, as honest as he could manage. "I didn’t think anyone lived here. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Akatsuki -- 342

LAIKA OF THQ

[Akatsuki]

 

- we sang of the grief-

"Your very voice is in my heartbeat, sweeter than despair"

Akatsuki would look up at the man as he spoke, assuring that he was fine while also apologizing for the intrusion. "No disturbance at all," the woman dismissed lightly, stepping around him to properly close the doors he had left opened. "I was already awake." As she moved and cast a proper glance at the man, it was apparent to her that he was unarmed. Or, at least, he appeared to be such. She knew there was the possibility of hidden blades beneath his clothing, or even that he fought through other means. She was not unfamiliar with the many different means and methods of the harbingers of death. Still, whether he posed no threat or if he did, it seemed to her that the gesture had been to provide a sense of ease. If nothing else, she couldn't detect hostility in his voice as he declared his intentions.
    Something dangerous in the area?
    A curious statement. Akatsuki's expression would be hard to read as she cocked her head to one side slightly, her eyes locking onto his for a moment as she regarded him. "Hm... It's quite cold out; you must be freezing." She'd brush some of the snow off of his shoulders before taking her blanket and wrapping it around him like a cloak--her warmth lingering in the fabric. "Why don't you come with me, and I'll get you something warm to drink. Somewhere with better lighting." She'd offer a hand for him to take and, if he did, she would lead him further into the temple toward the living quarters.
    Dangerous... yet he came directly to our temple, clearly motivated by intention. It would not be the first time she'd encountered a witch hunt--people who gathered with the intention to kill; to execute. Motivated by fear or misunderstanding--riled up by their emotions and seeking out what they viewed as a threat to their own security. Akatsuki was familiar with such ostracization. She knew their wrath as a Kyōbō. She knew their wrath as a Yōki. Whatever the stories were, whatever the fear or stigma, it didn't matter. There were those in the world who were willing to kill you merely for the way you looked; she knew she was not to blame.
    "This world is full of all kinds of deadly and dangerous things," Akatsuki spoke gently as she lead him away. Something that she, as someone who had traversed nearly all of the world, knew better than most. "Yet your concerns drew you here. Why?" Why here, specifically? Why the temple? Was he yet another person who feared the Yōkai? Saw them only for their monstrous reputation, and wished to wipe them out? She had encountered many witch hunters, before, and to Akatsuki--he seemed not unlike an assassin.

Kisei Takatō | 465 Words | Notes:

Blue Text - Tsuchi Branch Kyōbō Only
Pink Text - Sign language
Violet Text - Common Language

Shin of GS + Adox

[Kisei Takatō]

SLEEP NO MORE

She closed the doors, and the only light that remained cast cold and blue from her lantern. I was already awake, she said. Taka believed her, in spite of the hour. Exhaustion recognizes its own. Her expression was inscrutable. He had always struggled to read intent, more adept at perceiving the fact of something than the meaning behind it, but her meaning was more difficult to discern than most. Her gaze was unique, and weighed heavy. Taka was more used to watching than being watched. But her touch was delicate, kind. She brushed snow from his shoulders, wrapped him in her blanket. A protest rose to his lips, where it died unspoken: he had been raised to give and accept hospitality in equal and gracious measure, and old habits wouldn’t be so easily broken. She offered a hand to lead him—somewhere. Deeper into the building, past benches and unlit sconces and into the darkest shadows. He imagined bandits, laying in wait around the corner; he thought of crimson-red candles and a sigil in blood, Kaito chained up to the side, throat already slit by a ritual blade. A knife in the back, an arrow to the throat, an unmarked grave. There was movement in the shadows. Taka took her hand with a soft, thank you, and the blue light of her lantern banished the shadows and the movement alike. This world is full of all kinds of deadly and dangerous things, she said. Truer words never spoken, but there was greater relevance to the universal truth: why here? He thought to lie. It would be the smart thing to do, the sensible thing; even if it wasn’t outright, he should at least withhold information from a stranger. His lips parted, and the truth escaped. "One of my nephews has been playing in the area,” he said. He couldn’t even curse his honesty. "He’s not defenseless, but he’s only thirteen. We lost his parents recently.” I can’t lose him too went unspoken. "I can’t watch him all the time,” he said instead. "I just… do what I can.”

Akatsuki -- 347

LAIKA OF THQ

[Akatsuki]

 

- we sang of the grief-

"Your very voice is in my heartbeat, sweeter than despair"

The pieces began to fall into place as Akatsuki lead the strange man into the small kitchen. His anxieties and paranoia had come from a place of suffering and of loss. Something she could empathize with, even if he was misguided in his fears. There was only one way that she could really assure him, though. Actions often spoke louder than words. Pulling the chain of an overhead light, the room was illuminated to reveal a quaint little dining table with some wooden chairs, an electric stove, a cupboard, sink, and a generator. Her hand would loosen its grip on his own, and she'd gesture lightly for him to take a seat as she started the stove to work on heating up some water.
    "Yes, I do believe he came by here the other day," Akatsuki spoke gently. There weren't many who happened across her temple, so it was easy to pinpoint exactly who the culprit had been. "Young, and quite full of life." She smiled lightly at the man from over her shoulder. "And he used many fancy words! I could certainly learn a thing or two from his vocabulary." Even after years, she had become significantly more fluent from constant exposure and studying of the language, but the child had spoken in such a way that it'd still made her head spin. But she loved a challenge, and it was always a delight to meet someone who had as boisterous a spirit as the boy had.
    When the water was of temperature, she opened one of the cabinets to fetch some lavender flower tea before brewing.
    "I know what it's like to be a not-defenseless-but-only-thirteen-year-old alone out in the big, dangerous world," the young woman spoke softly. She tried to keep her voice light--even--but there was still a weight of knowing to her words. "So, I sent him back on his way. Despite his admiration and zeal, this temple is not for someone like him." Pouring two cups of tea, she'd turn the burner off before joining the young man wherever he had found himself and offered one of the warm mugs to him to take, visible puffs of steam rising from the rims. She smiled, lightly. "He's quite lucky to have someone who cares for his safety and wellbeing as much as you do."
    That's all it was, she decided. He'd come only to make sure that his beloved nephew hadn't been getting involved in anything that would do him harm. Something that she understood completely--and the tension began to melt away from her shoulders. No, she didn't think he was likely going to do her harm, even if she was entirely unarmed at the moment.
    "I am called Akatsuki the Bleeding Sun. What is your name?"

Kisei Takatō | 461 Words | Notes:

Blue Text - Tsuchi Branch Kyōbō Only
Pink Text - Sign language
Violet Text - Common Language

Shin of GS + Adox

[Kisei Takatō]

SLEEP NO MORE

The click of a chain heralded the flickering of the overhead light coming to life. They were in a small kitchen, comfortable and lived-in. She let him go, her guidance complete, and he took a seat as directed. Though he took a glance around the kitchen, he was drawn back to the woman when she talked about Kaito; her description made him smile, small but genuine. "He and his brother both are… creative,” Taka said, suffused with warmth. "They talk like actors on a stage.” He watched her hands as she prepared the tea, waiting for the tip of a vial or the plink of a dropper. None came; instead, only the flowery smell of lavender, and offer of a warm, steamy mug. He took it with a soft thank you, and a grateful sip. He’s quite lucky. There was nothing Taka could say to this, no way for him to articulate the gut-deep wrongness of that statement: that no one and nothing could consider itself lucky to have him in its life. He blinked, slow and heavy. "Akatsuki,” he repeated, committing her name to memory. "Akatsuki. I’m Kisei Takatō, of Kusagakure. You can—Taka is fine.” Another sip of the tea, a failed attempt to conceal his sudden self-consciousness; it was a rare thing for him to offer, often only claimed by his family. Both in earnest curiosity, and out of a desire to deflect from his bout of social fumbling, he went on, "If—can I ask—who is this temple for, if not someone like Kaito? Are you the caretaker? The priest?”

Akatsuki -- 266

LAIKA OF THQ

[Akatsuki]

 

- we sang of the grief-

"Your very voice is in my heartbeat, sweeter than despair"

"He has a brother?" Akatsuki glanced over her shoulder slightly, a sparkle in her eye as her expression of surprise melted into a soft smile. Hearing the man speak about the two boys... it was a precious thing. "That's lovely," she spoke, sincere in her words.
    Taking a seat across from him, Akatsuki took the slightest of sips from her teacup as she listened to the man mull over her name. Repeating it once to commit it to memory, before giving an introduction, himself. Kisei Takatō of Kusagakure, he said. And by the sound of it, he was giving her permission to refer to him as 'Taka', which sounded like a cute nickname--and she was happy to oblige. A slight rouge tinted her cheeks as she warmed up to the disheveled man a bit more. "'Taka'," she repeated. "Well, it's nice to meet you."
    They were no longer strangers.
    Taka moved the conversation elsewhere--his curiosity lying within the walls of the temple as he questioned what its nature was, then, if not for someone like his nephew. And, by extension, what was she to it?
    For a while, Akatsuki grew quiet. Initially, uncertain how to answer him. "This temple is... a haven for Yōki, and a place of devotion for the Yōkai, where Tengu resides." Though, she understood that the man likely had no idea what any of those things meant. "This temple is for the broken, the lost, the dispossessed. Those who have been abandoned, forgotten, and cast out. With the world having turned their backs on them, those souls are welcomed to find refuge here under the light of the Yōkai." Certainly no place for a bright child who had so much life in him yet. "Tengu is one of the seven aspects of the Yōkai, one of the seven faces of humanity. She is Hope, and I am she." 

Kisei Takatō | 316 Words | Notes:

Blue Text - Tsuchi Branch Kyōbō Only
Pink Text - Sign language
Violet Text - Common Language

Shin of GS + Adox

[Kisei Takatō]

"Twins,” Taka replied. "Kaito came here, his brother is Saito. Futago—they took their father’s name.” His sister had been so excited to name them, he remembered; she and her husband had spent most of her pregnancy poring over books of baby names and ledgers of family history, working tirelessly to pick the perfect names for the two tiny lives growing within her belly. Their mother had teased her for her choice—they’re going to get mixed up all the time!—but they fit, and the boys were glued at the hip. "It’s nice to meet you too, Akatsuki,” Taka said, pulling himself away from memory. No longer strangers—her name burned into his mind, the last of the shadows were banished, and his tension and fear were soothed into stillness by the tea and the company in kind. He waited quietly for Akatsuki to gather her thoughts, recognizing like as like as she took the time to choose her words. When she did explain, there was little that Taka truly understood—he was not a religious man, raised in a practical household more concerned with business and family than faith and spirituality. But her elaboration helped, and it slowly dawned on Taka that he was not speaking to just a priestess, or caretaker, or a wild woman in the woods—Akatsuki was, on a very fundamental level, much more than that. The Hope of humanity made flesh. This was no place for him, either—Taka was neither abandoned nor forgotten nor cast out. There were people who loved him and a community he belonged to, a nation he faithfully served with purpose. He was not lost. He was not dispossessed. But sleep eluded him, and death weighed heavy on his mind, and the memory of a love now lost to him plagued him in spite of his best efforts; so it might have been that he was, perhaps, fundamentally broken. "I don’t know much about faith,” Taka said softly, "but… I think this is an important place. Is it—do you have protection?” His thoughts wandered to her wariness of him, the remote location of the temple. The world is full of all kinds of deadly and dangerous things. If Akatsuki and her temple were known to Kusagakure, then formal aid could be extended, proper protection in case of danger. "People seeking refuge should have… peace, and safety. However that can be provided.”

Akatsuki -- 404

LAIKA OF THQ

[Akatsuki]

 

- we sang of the grief-

"Your very voice is in my heartbeat, sweeter than despair"

"Twins..." A word that carried a certain kind of weight, for her. Half of a pair, herself, she understood the special kind of bond that was shared between such close siblings. "'Kaito' and 'Saito'..." He hummed a little in amusement, smiling softly at their names. How cute. Not unlike she and her brother--Akatsuki and Yami, as they were. The break of dawn and the dark of the night. Poetic in their own way, whereas the Futago twins seemed to be delightfully alike.
    So his sister is their mother, she understood as he shed a little more light into his family tree.
    A precious thing. Foreign, to her, but Taka seemed to like talking about his loved ones, and if it brought him some kind of peace to speak their names on his tongue, she would not deny him that. Especially if he had lost them so recently that their memory still stung.
    "Names are a sacred thing," Akatsuki believed. It was why, though she was a Kyōbō, her identity was most strongly tied to the names that had been given to her by the people she loved. Her brother, who had named her after the red sun, and her sensei, who had seen her bleeding heart. "I think it's good that they were able to honor their father's memory if by carrying his name as their own." Her brow furrowed, slightly, and she looked at the man seated across from her with a hint of concern. "What of your sister, though? Do you have anything to remember her by?"
    Surely he had something to keep, himself, for her memory? She hoped so.
    Taka spoke more about the temple, thinking on himself that it must have been an important place.
    A part of Akatsuki wondered if the temple was really any more important than any other, or if the homes possessed by residents were any less important. Though, this place was important to her--and perhaps that was all he had meant, so she didn't give any argument to what he said. Though, when it came to protection--the man seemed to stumble on his words a bit. "Do I?" she questioned.
    Protection?
    What did he mean, she wondered? The shelter protected her from the snow and rain. The blankets in her bed chamber protected her from the cold, and the lantern protected her from the dark. It was already more than she was used to, so what more could she possibly need for herself? She was uncertain exactly what he was asking for.
    Though, some clarification seemed to follow, as he spoke on those who may have sought refuge here. Whether wanderers or strangers like himself, or perhaps even a Yōki reconnecting with their pillars. They needed to feel safe, and have security. "I provide it," she assured him.

Kisei Takatō | 469 Words | Notes: nice

Blue Text - Tsuchi Branch Kyōbō Only
Pink Text - Sign language
Violet Text - Common Language

Shin of GS + Adox