Page 40 of All That Has Flown Beyond
Sometimes, the ghost of Kaiyo’s father would visit him in the form of thoughts.
Kaiyo would wonder what his father’s advice would be when he struggled to solve a problem. Wondered what he would say in his moments of doubt. What he would think of Kaiyo, of the man he had grown to be.
In search of answers or resolution, Akiko put him in touch with the Kanbara tribe, who resided in a small village in the south of Japan.
Amazingly, they had heard of him and requested his aid in dealing with a number of demons plaguing their land. Demons were similar to elementals, but their Ousía differed greatly from those of people, having some human traits but manifesting from the dimension of Ousía to flicker in and out of physical existence. Their essence was often corrupted and influenced by specific phenomena, often enslaving their behaviour with destructive instincts.
Japan as a whole had a high number of demons. Their knowledge of Ousía, and their practice of rituals, spells, and necromancer walking, was old and had shaped the land of Ousía into an active epicentre that created creatures which slipped into the physical dimension to let themselves be known.
Kaiyo had been studying the ways of Ousía for almost six years, since that fateful day he had met Akiko when he was twenty. He had gained knowledge and skill through sheer perseverance, dedication, and determination. Despite this, as he drove up to the shrine which had been kept by the Kanbara pack of werewolves for generations, doubt still crept into Kaiyo’s mind.
Kaiyo stepped out of the car and looked around. The leaves of the surrounding forest were aflame with autumn. A massive maple tree belted with the thick rope of a shimenawa stood proudly in the courtyard, shedding a few leaves as he looked up.
He was broken from his awe as he was greeted by Hanaki, the Kanbara pack’s Kephale. She was short, her skin wrinkled by the wisdom of time, her eyes kind and welcoming.
“Kaiyo Amanati. It is an honour to have you with us.”
“Kephale Hanaki Kanbara, the honour is all mine.”
They bowed to each other before Hanaki lost her stiff posture, smiling at him.
“Come. You have travelled far,” Hanaki said.
Kaiyo took his suitcase out of the car and followed her into a traditional Japanese house, low and long, its paper sliding doors enchanted to muffle sound and scent in order to make it tolerable for werewolves to live inside. They took their shoes off at the entrance, trading them for soft, open slippers before she showed him to his room. It was simply equipped with a futon, a desk and chair, and a wardrobe. He left his belongings there and followed Hanaki to the living room, where her immediate pack was waiting. They got up from the cushions they had been sitting on, surrounding the kotatsu they had been collected around, a low table with a thick blanket hiding the brazier underneath.
“It is a pleasure to introduce you to my pack. This is Mori, my second,” she said, pointing first to a werewolf not much older than Kaiyo. He was stocky and broad, his barrel chest exposed by an open, flower-printed kimono. His face was square and striking, his eyes glowing with amusement and lined in eyeliner, his curved lips rosy with pigment. He was beautiful in a way Kaiyo had never seen before, as if the werewolf were completely in tune with himself, comfortable in his own skin.
“Kaiyo Amanati, a pleasure,” Mori greeted, bowing. Kaiyo returned the sentiment, copying the gesture.
“This is Tomoko, my daughter.” Hanaki gestured to a short, plump woman with a sharp, knowing expression on her face. “And this is Junpei, my youngest.” A young boy of around eight grinned at him. He was missing an incisor, suiting his cheerful, round face.
“It is an honour to meet you all,” Kaiyo said.
Mori waved his hand. “Okay, enough with the formalities. Sit, I’ll get the tea.”
Kaiyo followed his instruction, sitting with the rest of the family until he came back with a tray laden with small, handless cups and a large pot of tea.
Like Akiko had once done for him, Mori poured green tea into the cups with care, not spilling even a drop. Kaiyo felt overwhelmed for a second, the moments superimposed over each before parting with a thread between them, tying past and present together, shedding light on all that had changed.
Kaiyo was glad for the scent-and-heartbeat masking amulet he had taken to wearing. It would not do to reveal so much so quickly to the werewolves’ enhanced senses.
“Let’s be in welcome,” Hanaki said. Kaiyo nodded, used to the ritual after visiting so many foreign packs. Shifters, even if they did not have receptive or conductive Ousía, could at least sense the surface of others’.
They each clasped hands with the person next to them, creating a ring. Kaiyo took Hanaki’s hand to his right, Tomoko’s hand to his left, and opened himself up an appropriate amount. He let himself feel the Kanbaras’ Ousía in turn, revealing his own peaceful intentions as they showed him their welcoming one.
“Ah. A strong and wise spirit. Akiko was quite right,” Hanaki said when they were done. Kaiyo tried not to blush, simply tipping his head in thanks.
They asked about his travels, his time with Akiko, his life in America. They shared anecdotes of their pack, their full-moon ritual, their troubles with demons. Shamans were rare where they lived, and they had not had one for a few generations, resulting in a land which wasn’t as in balance as it could be.
“Our forest especially. Necromancers have taken to begin their journeys amidst the trees and are weakening the torii between dimensions,” Hanaki explained.
“Walking to the Nunn can become an addiction,” Mori added. “It’s difficult to set consequences when their actions are so out of their will.”
“Wards should help with that. I can check the ofuda around the shrine buildings and go into the forest tomorrow to inspect the wards.”
“We don’t have any wards,” Mori said ruefully.
“Ah. Well, then, I can set some up.”
