Support (2)

The ground was a muddy sludge after the earlier heavy rain. A dilapidated small shrine stood there with its visible worn out wood of a few centuries hidden in the old cedar forest with a ray of sunshine on it. 

Footprints were present. Probably that of the caretaker. The wood had been oiled. The once ratty shredded shimenawa rope has been replaced.

Most humans only knew the tiny spot of Hachimotosugi with its misshapen stone monument surrounded by the houses of a little village in Izumo as my father's last resting spot. Where the eight cedar trees were to seal my father in, those were fairly young trees which were planted in the late 1800s.

 The river Hii occasionally swept away the original trees, in retaliation on father's behalf. Hii is the source of the eight serpents' powers. Finally, it all made sense.

Far from the small squarish spot of Hachimotosugi, this secret dilapidated shrine held my father's spirit. The seal was still radiating its power, forbidding him to manifest physically. 

The snakes slithering around it were a symbol of his presence. A few of the mamushi, Japanese pit vipers moved away while looking at me with curiosity.

"Surprise, surprise…," Father's voice echoed through the forest. "To what do I owe this honour of the visit?"

"Arahabaki and your Mishakuji friends," I spoke out. 

The wind rustled the leaves on the trees as a flight of birds took off. The snakes were gliding towards father's shrine.

"Ahh them," a chuckle rang out. "Arahabaki. That old fuck."

"Anything I should know about them."

A pause. A total silence. Not even a hiss from the may ship surrounding his shrine. Father was deliberating.

"Why ask me? Arahabaki always sang to his own tune. The Mishakuji won't mingle with a lesser god. They are rather status conscious of whom they associate with." He broke the silence.

"So I take it that Arahabaki isn't as irrelevant as he makes himself out to be?" I said.

"What did he tell you? Now this makes me curious," Father replied.

"He owns a few Tokyo Internet cafes. Part times as a Shinto priest. And needs me to pay for his appeasement ceremony while working with me. He wants jobs to feed his momonofu. Seriously, I don't buy his bullshit."

"HAHAHAHA and you shouldn't," Father guffawed. "The bastard is still fooling around like that."

"What do you mean?"

"The true extent of his powers lie in Tohoku. Like what I gifted you after your brother got himself in trouble with the gods. Your powers are from the river. As long as your landmarks exist, you have powers. Arahabaku's is an entire region," father explained. 

"And the ass isn't as poor as he looks. He could be richer than most of the gods in Takamagahara. Just not Inari rich. But rich enough," Father said. "This is an old cunning fuck of a god who survived extermination."

"So he is mingling with me because of you?"

"No, I wouldn't underestimate his intentions," Father said. "He always has a plot going through his head. Or a scheme. We may be old friends, but when Arahabaki wants something, he will steamroll me down just to get to it. How is Daija, by the way?" 

"He is fine, why ask?" 

"Because Daija is the only one whom I would trust. If I were you," Father answered. "The rest are good only when your situation is good."

***

"You know, sometimes I wish you were my real brother," Kuro said. 

Daija stopped cleaning the sharp, gleaming blade of his katana and looked at her for a moment. Her far-away gaze seemed sentimental after a visit to Yamato-no-Orochi. Her father must have told her something. 

"What," she said, surprised at his reaction.

"Just wondering how much of a living nightmare you would be," Daija looked out of the dojo's window at the night, and started polishing the katana's blade again.

"What do you mean by living nightmare?"

"A few thousand years ago, before your father was sealed, he was the reason why no yōkai wanted to wring your neck. Think about it. After your father was sealed, you were still fine because no yōkai wanted to deal with your brother," Daija muttered. 

"Look at me now…"

"No yōkai wanted to touch you again because of your inheritance. Cast away those eight snakeheads from your body, and watch the middle ranks eat you up. You are good at killing. That much I give you, but on your own, your powers are limited," Daija said. 

"I survived by guile," Kuro answered. "Like how you ate Yako's tail."

Daija rolled his eyes. He was not created a yōkai first, unlike her. Even a minor serpent god would be on par with that of a daiyōkai. In their world, guile wasn't enough. 

"Never mind. Whatever you like to believe. But you do have Arahabaki's backing now. There's no need for me to watch over you as I did."

"Why are you talking like you are breaking up some relationship?"

"Kuro, I am in no mood to argue with you. It's just that Arahabaki's presence keeps stifling me. For centuries, we operated smoothly and now…," Daija trailed off as he eyed the iPhone in her hand.

It beeped. Arahabaki was deliberately announcing his presence. 

"Go deal with him. If he wants you as his pet, no one can come near you. Not even me. Not even your brother."

Pets of gods. He shuddered at that thought. Even Hakusozu was a pet of Inari before he broke away. Gods were often possessive of what they owned. The way Arahabaki acted around her made him uncomfortable. 

Daija also hated how Arahabaki suppressed him in his presence. He could choose to break free, but angering an old violent god was the last thing on his mind. It was a red flag of a warning. 

Daija felt like a trespasser. 

"Are you jealous or something?"

"Heck no," Daija sighed. "I am relieved actually."

"Still mopping over her then," Kuro snapped at him. 

"She is gone. To Yomi-no-Kuni. No reason to bring her up. You only know bits and pieces of my past." Daija glared at her as he continued polishing the blade with vigour. "Even I don't know my true past in full. It is like memories were taken away."

"Some fucking support you are. Arahabaki only wants to know if there are damages to the building from the last event. That's all."