14

.

There is a pinched expression on Daisaku-sama's face when Shiki finally returns to the compound. Which is unsurprising, although the elderly man is quick to smooth it away into his usual mask of something calm and unreadable as Shiki takes a seat at the low tea table.

For a long moment, he does not speak, and the two sit across from each other in absolute silence.

"… Did you enjoy yourself, at least?"

The little girl blinks.

Well, that's unexpected.

Her outward reaction is perhaps a tad too obvious, if the wry look that the elder gives her is anything to go by.

"Contrary to what you and Satoru-kun might think," the old man drawls, "I, in fact, do not derive any enjoyment from making children miserable. Even if that tends to be an unfortunate side-effect more often than not, admittedly… but nonetheless necessary."

Shiki quietly lifts the ceramic cup in front of her to take a small sip of tea, and does not say anything in response.

Daisaku-sama sighs.

"It has recently been brought to my attention that the limitations placed on you may have been… unnecessarily restrictive," he says slowly. "And we do have a general understanding of your Fragility technique now. You also appear to be capable of basic control. Leniency should be granted."

The elder pauses to take a sip of his own tea.

"That being said," he continues, "It would still behoove you to listen –or at the very least, voice your displeasures or any concerns before you decide to take matters into your own hands. Or run off with Satoru-kun without a word, as the case may be. Your safety and wellbeing are of great importance to the clan, and I would ask that you keep that in mind."

Shiki nods mutely. These words are… somewhat new. She's still a little surprised, she hadn't thought that…

"Not what you expected?" Daisaku-sama chuckles, setting his cup down on the low table. He smiles knowingly, and the wrinkles lining his eyes crinkle with a thousand folds.

It's such a strange expression to see on stately, severe Daisaku-sama, that Shiki finds herself openly staring. In this moment, Daisaku-sama looks more like an old grandpa than an austere, refined elder. It's…

… strange. Disconcerting.

Shiki doesn't know what to make of it.

"I know you haven't enjoyed being locked up in the compound as you have been. Few would, let alone a child of your age who is raring to explore the world around them… but I digress. Please believe me when I say that it really is for your own good, and for your safety." The old man leans back with a sigh. "Your eyes, your power… just as there are those who wish you well and desire to see you succeed, there are also many others who would wish you ill and desire to see you dead. Don't resent the clan for looking out for your best interests, even if it may have been… overbearing."

Are Daisaku-sama's words true? The Gojo Clan's hold on her, all the unmistakable power plays that she's witnessed and experienced both peripherally and directly in her time here… suggests otherwise. But it's undeniable that they have been protecting her. Feeding her and clothing her, providing education –even though it's an education in the highly hazardous 'family trade.'

Of course, Shiki understands perfectly well that this is so they can make use of her and her eyes in the future. But even so, she's not ungrateful.

… Still. Shiki protests being trapped inside the clan compound like a bird inside a cage. She sees where Daisaku-sama is coming from with his concerns for her safety –aside from the one trip where Satoru-oniichan had plucked her out of the hospital to reunite her with Kento-ojichan, her other trips outside the compound have all ended disastrously. The incident with the Kamo Clan had not been without its complications. Then there was the subsequent outing that had resulted in Shiki's encounter with that doll curse user, and then the Sorcerer Killer… the less said about that, the better.

But despite the risks and dangers, it's still not a reason to just hide away forever and ever with no end in sight. Daisaku-sama might have a point, but it still doesn't change the truth of the matter, and the truth is:

Shiki is important to the Gojo Clan, but only because of her eyes. And precisely because of her eyes, she is expected to become a sorcerer. A Gojo sorcerer. The clan will invest resources in her, and she will be expected to give back to the clan in the future as a return on this investment, so–

So of course they would care for her wellbeing. It only makes sense.

And that's… fine. There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing in the world comes for free, and it's not as if the Gojo Clan has been particularly subtle about their intentions in the first place, regarding this particular matter.

But there's a limit to everything. Shiki is willing to acquiesce and give what little she has to offer, but not blindly and without reserve.

She's learned that much by now, at least.

"I understand," is all she says mildly in the end, placid and calm. No matter her personal feelings, there's no point in getting into a drawn-out argument with Daisaku-sama over it at this moment. Time will tell whether the words he'd spoken were truth, or merely another layer of lies.

The elder nods. "With all of that said… it is the decision of the clan that the restrictions on your movements be lessened. Going forward, you will be allowed your own trips outside the compound, but only when appropriately accompanied by another adult member of the clan –the details of which we shall discuss at a later date, when Kiyohira is present."

Oh.

How strange.

It's strange, that this is apparently the consensus that the elders have agreed upon. Shiki lifts her tea and takes another long sip in a poor attempt to hide her own confusion.

She would've thought that her restrictions would be potentially increased as punishment for disobeying the standing order for her to remain within the clan compound. After all, Shiki had made the conscious decision to willfully disobey when Satoru-niichan showed up in the morning with an easy smile.

"Surprised?" As expected, sharp-eyed Daisaku-sama does not miss her reaction. "Certainly, there were those who pushed for punishment. Discipline. But a point has been raised that perhaps it would be prudent to re-examine our previous methods, considering how Satoru-kun turned out…"

Daisaku-sama trails off with a slight cough, followed by a heavy, heartfelt sigh. And suddenly, Shiki cannot help but recall the conversation she'd had before with Kiyohira-sensei, when he'd said–

The last thing the clan needs is another Gojo Satoru.

… It's not literal, of course. In this world, those born with the ability to use cursed energy were rare, and those born with cursed techniques were rarer still. It was an astonishingly miniscule percentage of the population that had the capacity to become sorcerers… and among that sparing number, a sorcerer with the strength and potential of someone like Gojo Satoru?

No. There is little doubt in Shiki's mind that, were there another Gojo clansman born with the Six Eyes and possessing Limitless, the elders would be over the moon.

Sorcerers value strength, and Gojo Satoru is strong –the strongest. The Gojo Clan would never 'not need' another Gojo Satoru. Why else would there be so much attention on Shiki otherwise?

But his… personality. Her cousin's disposition, his worldview, his values and his beliefs… did not quite match up with the clan as well as the elders would've liked. And that was what caused the elders such constant, consistent headaches–

If Shiki's personality was anything like Satoru-oniichan's, she thinks that Daisaku-sama probably would've already gone bald from stress or something at this point.

… Now that's a thought.

Regardless… the clan's difficulties with Satoru-niichan aside, the very fact that they chose to loosen Shiki's restrictions at a time like this… is this their way of trying to placate her, perhaps? So that Shiki wouldn't be tempted to pull something more drastic in the future. Heading off to the school in Tokyo with Satoru-niichan was alarming enough that it warranted a response, but harmless and innocuous enough that a slight acquiescence in Shiki's favor was deemed more suitable than any punishment. It could also be construed as a 'reward' for good behavior up until this point; after all, Shiki mostly kept to herself with Kiyohira-sensei's training and rarely raised a fuss over anything.

She wonders if Satoru-oniichan had thought of all of this, when he'd blown in through the sliding doors and carried her out despite Kiyohira-sensei's disapproval. It wouldn't be surprising.

"You remind me of Satoru-kun, when he was younger."

Shiki pauses, teacup held loosely in her hands, and looks askance towards the elder.

Daisaku-sama chortles lightly, "Ah. You don't see it, do you? I wouldn't blame you. But believe it or not, Satoru-kun wasn't always such a… difficult child. He used to be the model, ideal heir back then… I wonder, when did it all change?"

There's a note of something nostalgic, almost wistful in the old man's voice as he muses aloud to himself, lost in his memories.

"… What was he like?"

Daisaku-sama blinks, his attention sharply recalled by the sound of his young guest's voice. "Pardon me, what was your question?"

"What was he like?" Shiki repeats herself. "… Satoru-oniichan. You said he used to be different."

It's mostly curiosity that compels her to take initiative and ask, when she's usually content to sit back in silence and let Daisaku-sama talk himself into a parched throat before finally dismissing her. Shiki has trouble imagining Satoru-oniichan being any measure of obedient, not when his usual interactions with his clan's elders are all varying degrees of antagonistic, given his brazen attitude and careless irreverence.

"Satoru-kun?" Daisaku-sama smiles. "Well. He used to be a lot quieter, for one, always preferring to observe what was going on around him. Muneyoshi used to fret about it. He was always worried about Satoru-kun losing touch with the people around him, given how the boy distanced himself from others. Untouchable. As befitting of the Honored One, you could say."

… Are they really talking about the same Gojo Satoru? Cold and unfeeling? Distant like some eldritch god, even during his childhood years?

"I don't see it."

"I suppose you wouldn't," the elder responds, bemused. "Quite different from how he is nowadays, isn't it? But I have no reason to lie about this, and you'll find similar answers if you ask any of the other elders."

That may very well be the case, but there's something in Daisaku-sama's expression that gives her pause regardless.

Shiki briefly deliberates for a moment, but chooses to ask her next question regardless.

"Is that good or bad, then?"

The little girl tilts her head ever so slightly and stares intently at her elder, in a manner that's almost borderline disrespectful. To his credit, Daisaku-sama does not take offense, nor does he promptly dismiss her out of hand. Instead, a pensive look flashes across his face, before settling into something thoughtful. Contemplative.

"Neither," he finally answers. "Regarding Satoru-kun… I may be his elder, but even so it is not my place to pass judgment on such things. Who am I, to speak such things of he who is raised as the honored one?"

The old man chuckles.

"It's neither good nor bad," he murmurs again, quieter, this time. Almost as if he's speaking to himself. "Satoru-kun's very existence will cement the superiority of the Gojo Clan in this age, indisputable and undeniable. Immovable. In the end, that's all that's truly necessary."

There's a note of something both fervently worshipful and loathingly self-mocking in those words.

Shiki hums lightly, thoughtfully.

Daisaku-sama raises his eyes from the table to look at her, and this time there's something slightly crooked in his smile.

"Satoru-kun is the first in four hundred years to be born with both the Six Eyes and Limitless," he tells her. "He was destined from the moment of his birth to one day stand at the very top and lead the Gojo Clan forward into the future. His… quirks of personality aside, there is no reason for anyone from the Gojo Clan to commit themselves to obstructing his way. We may oppose him, when our opinions differ, but there is no reason for us to deny him.

Does that answer your question, little Shiki?"

She supposes that she hadn't been particularly subtle, not that she'd been going for subtlety in the first place, with a question like that. And Daisaku-sama is a very perceptive man.

When Shiki had asked him if Satoru-oniichan's current state was good or bad, it had really been more of asking after what he –and by extension, the other elders– thought of their esteemed clan heir. Their untraditional, eccentric clan heir… who was also the strongest.

… Going by Daisaku-sama's response, Satoru-oniichan still undoubtedly held his clan's support, even despite distinct differences. But Shiki hadn't forgotten about Yaga-san's trial, hadn't forgotten how the entire reason why it was reopened so swiftly was because there were elders who desired to bring Satoru-oniichan to heel, and–

And there's absolutely no way Daisaku-sama wouldn't know about that. So why is he saying these things to her?

What does he want? No, that might not be the right way to look at this. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Yuzuki-san's voice in her mind pipes chooses to pipe up in this moment, whispering, What does he stand to gain?

Just how much honesty was in Daisaku-sama's words, when he'd tacitly implied unconditional support for Satoru-oniichan, no matter any apparent preexisting misgivings?

"I…" What should she say? Should she continue to press him on this topic? Should she accuse him of lying? Or would it be better to keep her thoughts to herself and pretend to know nothing? "… I like Satoru-oniichan."

Silence reigns in the air.

… Shiki needs to get better at holding her tongue, clearly she's spent too much time around a certain 'six-eyed' cousin.

"He's not always nice," she says haltingly, and it's true. Satoru-oniichan can be nice, but at his core he's someone who's really, really not. And that's perfectly fine. "But I trust him. You… don't."

Because that's what this conflict really boils down to, isn't it? A lack of trust spurring on the desire for control, which in turn only exacerbated the lack of trust on both sides. Or something along those lines, more or less.

Daisaku-sama merely raises an eyebrow.

"That's a heavy accusation to make, Shiki-chan," he comments mildly, not sounding upset in the least.

It's not an outright refutal of her words, though.

"… You trust in Satoru-oniichan's strength," the little girl says pointedly, and leaves it at that.

You trust Gojo Satoru's power, his overwhelming strength. But you don't trust him as a person. Not as your future clan head, even as you accept his power.

The elder outright laughs, hearing the unspoken words loud and clear.

"I'm not the only one." This time, he doesn't even bother with the thin veneer of denying anything. "But unlike Takatomi-san and the rest of his allies, who believe that Satoru-kun's strength will only lead the clan to its ruin if not properly tempered… I am willing to see how far he'll go. To sit back and observe, before I commit myself to making any decisions."

The elder sets down his teacup on the low table with a resounding clack.

"Do you have any more questions for me?"

It feels both like a test and not. Shiki pauses, thinking.

… She holds no fondness for all of this. The constant maneuvering, the power plays… but at the same time, she's beginning to discover that it's only inevitable, living with the Gojo Clan. With growing resignation, she realizes that Yuzuki was right, once again; even if this isn't something she likes, it's still something that she should be aware and knowing of –in self-defense, if nothing else.

(How does Satoru-oniichan stand this? Her cousin does not strike her as the type of person to be particularly appreciative of such politicking, no matter his apparent skill with navigating it.)

The little girl sighs.

"… Only one. Does the clan hope to change Satoru-oniichan?"

Or is the clan open to being changed by him? By the changes that Gojo Satoru's inevitable headship of the Gojo Clan would undoubtedly bring?

Daisaku-sama's genial smile widens, just a touch sharp.

"Clever girl," he says, faintly approving. "And yet there are still naysayers within the clan who insist that you are nothing like Satoru-kun."

"That's not an answer."

"It's not, no," Daisaku-sama's gnarled fingers tap idly against the edge of the table. "Come by again for tea sometime, Shiki. I will answer your question then, if you haven't discovered the answer yourself already."

.

.

As Daisaku-sama had promised, the Gojo Clan does indeed loosen their stringent restrictions on Shiki's whereabouts, in the aftermath of her visiting the Tokyo school during Yaga-san's trial. There's still a strict curfew and an extra stipulation requiring that Shiki be accompanied by at least two Special Grade One sorcerers whenever she so chooses to leave clan grounds, but it's still a vast improvement over being indefinitely imprisoned inside the compound with no end in sight.

However, it soon becomes apparent that this concession from the elders had not been made solely for the sake of placating her.

On a bright, chilly morning, Shiki follows two of the clan's sorcerers out into the countryside and watches them exorcise a curse. A curse that vaguely resembled a bloated raccoon, or something along those lines?

… Still. The sorcerers are skilled, and the whole affair goes smoothly. It's not a particularly strong curse, either, probably a high Grade Four at the very most.

Shiki watches the purple-black body burst into formless smoke upon the curse's death, dissipating into nothingness in the morning air, and stifles a yawn.

It's not until she's already returned to the compound for her daily training with Kiyohira-sensei after that quick morning jaunt that Shiki realizes the implications, halfway through swinging her wooden practice sword.

Field experience.

It's a bit early, maybe. But there's no denying that the trip she'd just had was less a casual outing and more of a mission instead. A mission to exorcise a curse, just like the missions that Satoru-oniichan and Kento-ojichan take between their lessons in school.

(Just like the mission that Amanai had died on.)

Thus far, most of Shiki's lessons had consisted of carefully-controlled exercises, with multiple safeguards in place to prevent any unfortunate accidents. Shiki has some measure of experience fighting curses –mostly Grade Fours– under the watchful eye of Kiyohira-sensei and the clan's other sorcerers. These curses would gradually grow stronger and stronger. Shiki would be tasked to shadow other sorcerers on their missions to learn from their experience.

And eventually, one day Shiki would also be expected to take on missions all by herself, too. Just like Satoru-oniichan.

She still doesn't consider herself to be quite ready, but she supposes that's what all the training is for.

… Unsurprisingly, Kento-ojichan is furious when he finds out.

"What is your clan thinking?!"

Kento-ojichan is furious, but it's a sort of helpless fury. It still doesn't stop him from being one step away from grabbing Satoru-oniichan by the collar and bodily shaking the older boy. It's probably only the knowledge that Satoru-oniichan has Limitless that stops him from doing anything drastic.

Satoru-oniichan makes an understanding sound, "So this is why no one kicked up a fuss after Yaga-sensei's trial, huh?"

Shiki gives her cousin a look as Kento-ojichan's jaw clenches. He's not helping!

"Aww, c'mon." A hand claps down on top of the little girl's head, ruffling her hair none-too-gently. Her cousin sighs. "I get that it's not ideal, but you have to admit, it's better than the alternative."

"The 'alternative' being?"

"Complete isolation. Or, potentially…" Satoru-oniichan trails off into uncharacteristic silence. Then he straightens, shaking his head roughly. "It doesn't matter. I wouldn't have let it happen, of course –so don't give me that face, Nanami-kun– but there would've been some troublesome maneuvering involved. Lucky for us that things didn't come to that point, right?"

If looks could kill, Kento-ojichan's withering glare would've buried his upperclassman six feet under without a doubt.

"I don't like this," her young uncle says tersely. "I don't like this at all. Your clan said they would protect her, not–!"

"On that note," Satoru-oniichan interrupts, "You do realize that protecting her also includes training her to be able to protect herself, yes?"

Kento-ojichan scowls, "She's only six years old!"

"And I was around the same age when I first started shadowing others on their missions like her," the white-haired teen responds, unfazed. Kento-ojichan sucks in a sharp, startled breath.

… The conversation that follows does not end on a particularly happy note.

They both mean well, in their own ways. Kento-ojichan wants Shiki to be safe, which involves staying far away from any missions, while Satoru-oniichan simply doesn't see any issues with this new learning opportunity. But Satoru-oniichan understands, in a way that Shiki is starting to suspect that Kento-ojichan simply doesn't… that strength is paramount for more than just survival, in a sorcerer's endless battle against curses. Particularly if one is training to become a sorcerer in a clan of sorcerers.

But that's a different topic for another time.

Here and now, Kento-ojichan cannot overturn the Gojo Clan's decisions, and Satoru-oniichan does not see the need to challenge his clan on this new development, so the arrangement continues as it is.

Shiki continues training with Kiyohira-sensei, and occasionally accompanies various other sorcerers on their missions, despite her uncle's disapproval.

The vast majority of the missions that she shadows are only Grade Four exorcisms, so it's not like there's ever any real danger. Shiki tries explaining this to Kento-ojichan at some point, but it only ends up making her uncle even more upset, for some reason.

She doesn't understand.

"I don't get it," Shiki eventually gives up and admits to Yuzuki-san one day. The two children are casually seated next to each other on the engawa overlooking one of the koi ponds in the clan garden, a pile of scrolls stacked between them. "I know he's… worried. But why?"

The older boy stills, then turns and levels her with a flat, unimpressed look. "You don't understand why your uncle could possibly be worried for his six year old niece, who's just about ready to receive missions of her own to kill curses?"

Shiki huffs, pouting. Okay, it does sound a bit ridiculous when he puts it that way. But at the same time…

"He knows that this is what the Gojo Clan wanted of me from the start, with this entire arrangement." The little girl idly swings her legs, feet barely brushing over the lush grass underfoot. "It's not a surprise, so I don't see why–"

Shiki cuts herself off when her friend suddenly breaks into another lung-rattling coughing fit. She hovers awkwardly for a moment. Does she pat him on the back? Grab another handkerchief before the one he's currently using becomes bloodstained again?

In the end, Shiki ends up quietly passing him a bowl of the bitter-black medicine kept in a ceramic pot on a tray to the side. The older boy mutters a quick thanks, then downs the entire thing in one go without even batting an eye.

Impressive, truly.

"Let me get this straight," Yuzuki-san clears his throat hoarsely. "Your uncle is… worried. And that's a problem for you?"

"… I wouldn't say a problem," Shiki responds slowly. How does she describe it? It's not so much a problem as it is– "Just, I don't want him to always be worrying like this. And it's not as if I'm going to be looking for curse users to fight! So there's really no need for him to… to…"

"Hmm," Yuzuki-san hums thoughtfully beside her. "Shiki-san, think about it. Would you say that you're worried for Nanami-san whenever he is sent out on a mission?"

Yes, in that he's her uncle. Shiki cares for Kento-ojichan's wellbeing and all sorcerers' missions carry some level of risk to them.

But at the same time… no.

Is it the thoughtless confidence of a child that makes her think this way? Not really. She knows that Kento-ojichan isn't like Satoru-oniichan, and it's unlikely that her uncle would ever claim the title of strongest. And even Satoru-oniichan isn't infallible.

But by that train of thought –it's unlikely that Kento-ojichan would ever be assigned to truly dangerous missions, Grade Ones and the like, given his ranking. And Kento-ojichan is capable. He knows how to handle himself.

… Does this mean that Shiki trusts Kento-ojichan because of his strength?

Why does everything have to come down to power, for a sorcerer?

.

.

Shiki's first mission is assigned to her when she's seven years old, in the early summer. It's a Grade Four exorcism out in the nameless countryside, clean and simple.

The little girl arrives at the containment barrier, accompanied by Kiyohira-sensei and Jihei-san.

… Ten minutes later, she's sitting back in the car and on her way to returning to the clan compound.

There's really not much to be said about the entire experience. It had only been a low-level Grade Four curse, one that had been fairly harmless, for all intents and purposes. Barely above a flyhead. Maybe it would've become dangerous after a few years to absorb the frustrations of low harvests or failed crops… not that it would ever have the chance to.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Jihei-san," Shiki responds, resisting the urge to stifle a yawn. To the side, Kiyohira-sensei looks bored out of his mind, and makes no attempt to hide it. Jihei-san is better about hiding his feelings, given his pleasant smile and gentle concern, but Shiki would be very surprised if the man didn't find this entire affair to be as boring as everyone else did. Even Shiki.

She wonders if it had been her previous experiences with the doll curse user and the Sorcerer Killer that skewed her perceptions here. Possibly, maybe?

Whatever the case, Shiki actually finds to her surprise that it's the curses she fights during her training sessions within the compound that end up constituting any sort of challenge to her, ironically enough. She's aware that the Gojo Clan –or rather, probably just Daisaku-sama– is trying to be extremely careful about the missions that she's being sent on.

It works–

–until it doesn't.

… Or rather, it works up until the day Shiki decides to look for Kento-ojichan after one of her missions.

It all starts off harmlessly enough. Shiki makes her request and Jihei-san raises his hands in a halfhearted gesture, because–

"We're supposed to return directly to the compound."

"Please?" Batting her eyes and trying to look cute isn't exactly a trick that works for her –she's been told multiple times that her eyes look unnerving, and Gojo Satoru is literally the only person in the clan who calls her 'adorable.' So instead Shiki softens her voice and tries to sound appropriately pleading as she ducks her head. "I know Kento-ojichan has a mission in the village over to the east, and it's been so long since I've last seen him."

Something else that also helps her case: Shiki never tends to ask for much. Kiyohira-sensei and Jihei-san share a quick glance with each other, full of resignation.

"You're the one telling this to Daisaku-sama," is all Kiyohira-sensei says.

"… I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm always the one reporting things to Daisaku-sama."

The first sign of something wrong is the fire.

An unnatural fire –one that burns a brilliant green, and releases no smoke. Kiyohira-sensei stiffens from the passenger's seat in the car the moment a towering column of flames blaze up ahead from the direction they're heading in, then promptly barks at Yajima-san to floor the gas pedal.

Their pale-faced driver, Yajima-san, does so immediately. It's lucky that Jihei-san is sitting beside her and has the good sense to grab Shiki so that she doesn't get thrown from her seat with the sudden acceleration. But even so, she can feel her heart leaping into her throat, and she knows that it has nothing to do with the car.

Kento-ojichan?

"No fu– … There's no way that's a Grade Two curse," Kiyohira-sensei murmurs with a heavy scowl. "Jihei, look sharp. That's a Grade One."

"Ah…" The other man cranes his neck, looking out the window, "I think you may be right about that."

Kento-ojichan. Grade One.

Is Kento-ojichan alright?

As soon as they reach the outskirts of the village, Kiyohira-sensei slams open the car door and disappears in a blur, his movements augmented and reinforced by cursed energy.

"Go find the villagers and help them evacuate," Jihei-san opens his door much more sedately. He smiles reassuringly at Yajima-san, despite the distinct coldness to his next words. "Get in contact with the Window responsible for overlooking this mission, if they're still alive. Report the situation."

"U-understood, Jihei-sama."

"Good. Now go do your job."

"Hai!"

The man nods and turns back towards Shiki, "Please excuse me."

Jihei-san crouches down in a smooth, fluid motion, and stands up carrying her in his arms. Shiki does not fight the motion –the older sorcerer is much stronger and faster than she is– and the world blurs around them as Jihei-san bursts into movement, following the direction Kiyohira-sensei had taken off in.

Kento-ojichan. How is he? Kiyohira-sensei mentioned a Grade One curse–

"Jihei! Left!"

Shiki clutches the edge of Jihei-san's collar when the man suddenly makes a hard left, one arm still clamped firmly around her body. There's a burst of searing heat behind her, and there's no doubt in Shiki's mind that it's the unnatural green flame that they'd spotted earlier.

The girl closes her eyes. Briefly, and only for a moment.

When she opens them again, the world around her is covered in jagged red lines once more.

"Apologies, Shiki-sama," Jihei-san's voice above her is thin, tight. Brown eyes flick down in obvious concern, before swiftly snapping back to their surroundings. "… It seems that Kiyohira has things under control for the moment. We should–"

The man hastily cuts off his own words as something is roughly hurled in their direction. Shiki's unthinking reaction towards seeing a projectile coming at her is to cut, but Jihei-san immediately shifts so that Shiki is shielded behind his body. His other arm snaps out and he–

–catches it.

"Careful there, Nanami-kun," Jihei-san greets good-naturedly. "I'm glad to see you well. Now, what can you tell us about the current situation?"

Kento-ojichan. It's… it's Kento-ojichan! Shiki had nearly just– if it weren't for Jihei-san would she have just–?!

A warm hand suddenly comes up to rest quietly behind her back. Steady, comforting. The little girl does her best to reel in her wayward thoughts; with the threat of a rampaging Grade One curse before them, this wasn't the time to afford any distractions.

(Control, control, control. You almost just–!)

Jihei-san does not look towards her and Shiki makes no outward indication of having noticed his silent gesture. Instead, she focuses her attention on Kento-jichan.

"Shiki?!"

It's not often that her uncle loses his composure like this, but there's no humor to be found in his gaping expression at this moment. Incredulous shock, utter disbelief.

The blond teen quickly regathers himself, whirling on Jihei-san. "What is she doing here? Why did you bring her here?! That's not–"

"This isn't the time for this," Jihei-san interjects. Slightly clipped, but not unkind. "Nanami-kun. What is the current situation?"

Kento-jichan grits his teeth, looking away to the side. "… A mistake. The mission was misranked. That thing, it's… it's not just a cursed spirit, it's a god of the land. The local faith empowered it. But no one realized that until it was too late–!"

"I see," the older man frowns. "Where are your other classmates? This isn't a solo mission, is it?"

"… It got Haibara."

"Ah… apologies, then. You have my condolences."

Kento-ojichan jerks and shakes his head roughly. Shiki wants to reach out to him. "No, he's not dead yet. He's not. If we can just–"

"Give up on that boy," a rough voice breaks in, brooking no room for argument. "All that's left is a charred corpse, and that's not worth taking unnecessary risks for."

Kento-ojichan flinches. Shiki openly frowns.

"Kiyohira-sensei." Her tone is faintly accusing and clearly unhappy… not that it seems to have any effect on her teacher. Her faintly-singed teacher, who turns away with a heavy sigh and makes eye contact with Jihei-san.

"We need to leave," he says without preamble. "I trapped it in a temporary barrier, but it's not going to hold for long. None of my attacks are doing anything more than slowing it down; its regeneration is downright ridiculous. It almost reminds me of a nature spirit, but that's not exactly–"

"Nanami-kun says that it's a local god of the land."

Kiyohira-sensei pauses. "… I suppose that would explain it. But if that's the case, then I doubt we'd be able to wear it down in any meaningful manner, so long as it's in an advantageous terrain… such as the birthplace where it's worshiped. We need to–"

There is a deafening boom that drowns out the sound of Kiyohira-sensei's words, accompanied by a sudden surge of dry, scorching heat. The world shakes around them, cast in an eerie green glow.

And Shiki finally sees it. The cursed spirit –the god.

It's a towering behemoth, vaguely deer-like despite its massive size. Wicked black antlers curl up and backwards above its skull. And its head is, quite literally, a skull –one with spots of emerald flames dancing in its eye sockets in place of actual eyes. Dark fur covers the entire length of its body, coated in burning flames.

TRESPASSERS.

Brilliant green flames race across the ground surrounding them in a wide circle over the grass. Kiyohira-sensei immediately moves in front of the group in a defensive gesture, hand raised to the hilt of his blade.

WRETCHED WORMS.

Shiki's ears are ringing. She's never encountered a cursed spirit –a cursed god?– like this before. There's an ominous weight to its very presence, and its words… its words are more of a garbled scream than actual words, grating on the ears, and yet somehow she can still understand what it's saying perfectly, despite the wrongness of it all.

LOATHSOME BLIGHTS.

The corrupted god's words coil through her mind, sick and cloying. Heavy and crushing. Suffocating. But none of this stops her from noticing the presence of distinctly forest-green lines flickering and twisting through the air with every mind-rattling echo of the god's words, and so Shiki turns in Jihei-san's arms to draw her own blade.

It's a short tanto –which might as well be a regular blade, in Shiki's child-sized hands. Not quite a cursed tool, but nonetheless a weapon crafted with the intent of being able to withstand cursed energy. This is the blade that Shiki had been presented with, the day that she'd stepped outside the clan compound on her first mission.

Shiki slashes her short sword through the air, cleanly cutting through the green swirls. Almost immediately, the heavy weight blanketing the air eases, and she can hear Jihei-san audibly sucking in a startled breath behind her ear.

"Did you just–?"

"Shiki." Kiyohira-sensei's voice is low and terse, but no less sharp. "Can you still see the lines?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then I want you to–"

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. The massive creature rears back, and it's–

It's–

… awful.

The cursed god rears back on its hind legs, revealing its underbelly. Its open underbelly, filled with corpses. Human corpses. Dozens upon dozens, at the very least; too many to count at a glance. All of them are charred and mutilated beyond repair, and–

Kento-ojichan suddenly jerks forward and makes a choked sound, only held back by Jihei-san's hand clamping down on him before he can run headlong into danger–

"Haibara!"

… Oh.

ACCEPT YOUR JUDGMENT, PITIFUL HERETICS.

The skull-head snaps forward, the cursed good releasing a veritable flood of flames from its mouth towards them.

"Jihei, get the kids!" Kiyohira-sensei barks out, "I'll clear a path for you!"

Without further fanfare, the man draws his sword. There is a wave of cursed energy that slams through the air the moment he unsheaths the blade, one that even lowers the circle of flames surrounding them by a good several inches.

But–

RESISTANCE. IS. FUTILE.

The wall of flames leap higher and higher, blazing in tandem with the cursed god's rage.

"I hope you have a Plan B?" Jihei-san asks lightly.

Kiyohira-sensei doesn't quite roll his eyes, but Shiki gets the sense that it's a near thing. "Plan B: Protect the kids and hold out until reinforcements are here. Even if both of us die in the process."

The little girl startles. What?

Jihei-san laughs, "Certainly, Kiyohira-san. Nanami-kun, would you mind…?"

This entire time, Jihei-san has been carrying Shiki in his arms. Shiki is faintly bewildered as he turns and presses her into Kento-ojichan's arms. At any other time, she would be happy. But…

It's strange. She knows that Kiyohira-sensei and Jihei-san are both Special Grade One sorcerers, tasked with protecting her. But it's one thing to know this, and another to just… watch Jihei-san nod in acceptance and turn around with an easy smile towards what is almost certain doom. Watch Kiyohira-sensei interpose himself between them and the cursed god unhesitatingly.

… But that's a Grade One curse, isn't it? And Kiyohira-sensei and Jihei-san are both Special Grade Ones, so by convention this would mean that they are more than capable of handling any Grade One curses on their own.

But there are always exceptions. Nothing is certain. Hadn't this originally been assessed as a Grade Two curse, to begin with? That was why Kento-ojichan had been sent here in the first place, even though it clearly turned out not to be the case.

…

… It's not as if they lack strength. Kiyohira-sensei is both swift and agile in his movements as he dances around the fiery god-curse, the sword in his hands easily carving through its form –to no avail. The curse roars, a deafening sound, and the deep gouges slashed into its flanks immediately seal up in a burst of flickering green flames.

Jihei-san is armed with a blade, too, but unlike Kiyohira-sensei, there are visible streams of water trailing behind him, glittering beneath the unnatural firelight. The water is likely the result of his cursed technique. It's a good counter against the curse's flames, and Jihei-san's water allows him to defend Kiyohira-sensei as the man pushes forward–

But will it be enough?

Shiki knows that Kiyohira-sensei and Jihei-san are strong. But Satoru-oniichan was stronger, and… against the Sorcerer Killer… it still hadn't been enough.

The curse stomps down. Green cracks spread through the ground, crevices filled with green flames, flaring high –including the ground beneath Shiki's feet. Kento-ojichan yanks her towards himself and the two stumble backwards together–

A massive arm wreathed in flames, headed straight in the direction they'd stumbled in–

Shiki ducks under Kento-ojichan's grip without thinking, pulling out her tanto, and slashes outwards and up along those gleaming lines, heedless of her uncle's strained shout.

Not him. Not Kento-ojichan!

Warm hands seize her shoulders, and Kento-ojichan spins her around. His eyes rake over her body, obviously looking for any signs of injury, slowly relaxing only once it is clear that there is nothing to be found.

And of course there wouldn't be, not with a technique powered solely by cursed energy as these green flames were. Regular fire would've stood a better chance of burning her.

WHAT TRICKERY IS THIS?

The cursed god rears back, withdrawing its arm. There is a deep cut along the length of its unnervingly human-like forearm, tipped in vicious talons, filled with writhing green flames–

–and not healing.

Something finally clicks in Shiki's mind at the sight. Realization. It makes her feel like an utter fool in hindsight. True, the curse had been capable of regenerating from any and every attack from Kiyohira-sensei and Jihei-san earlier, but… unlike the older sorcerers, it's not just the physical body that Shiki strikes at, when she cuts the lines. Because more than just fragility, the lines are–

Beginning and end. Open and close.

Shiki quietly looks upon the towering form of the cursed god in a new light.

The cursed god who is covered in gleaming red lines.

"You are unharmed?" Kiyohira-sensei lands heavily beside her, panting slightly. Sweat glistens on his brow, and the rise and fall of his chest is obvious. Red lines curl across his body, and Shiki tries not to let her gaze linger on them for too long. "Good. Just now, that was… your technique? You can disable its regeneration?"

To the side, Kento-ojichan stiffens, then physically interjects himself between them. "What are you implying?! Are you asking her to fight?"

Kiyohira-sensei ignores the boy, his gaze focused intently on the little girl instead. "If Jihei and I can get you close enough to the curse, then can you–?"

"I can kill it."

The words are calm, matter-of-fact. Truth.

Kiyohira-sensei pauses for a moment and nods, but Kento-ojichan whirls around on her, crouching down so that they're level with each other.

"Shiki, what are you–?"

Kento-ojichan is worried. Of course he is. He'd been worried over Shiki fighting Grade Four curses on her own, never mind an unusual Grade One as this cursed god is. He wants her to be safe.

Shiki wants Kento-ojichan to be safe, too.

"Don't do this," he says. Something in his voice cracks with a note of grief, "I… I can't lose you, too."

The little girl smiles, reaching up and gently patting her beloved uncle's cheek. "It'll be alright, Ken-jichan. I'll be fine."

The young man opens his mouth in automatic protest –but suddenly freezes, for some reason. He stares at her like she's a stranger.

(Don't look at me like that.)

"… Shiki?"

… She's not scared. By all means, she should be downright terrified at a time like this, but right now Shiki is feeling… oddly light.

For some reason, she doesn't really feel much of anything at all.

Something finally settles inside her, and she turns away from her uncle. "Kiyohira-sensei. Help me?"

"Of course."

Her teacher effortlessly picks her up with a single arm, and they turn towards where Jihei-san is single handedly holding off the curse on his own.

I AM BORN OF THIS LAND, the curse declares, as Kiyohira-sensei leaps into the air. Almost immediately, they are hit with a barrage of flames; the curse seems to be warier, now. The long gash on its arm remains unhealed, bleeding tongues of green flames into the open air. I AM OF THE MOUNTAINS AND THE FIELDS. THE FIERCE LIGHT OF THE MIDDAY SUN. THE GLORIOUS SUMMER FLAME.

"Kiyohira-san?!" Jihei-san blinks when the older man charges past him without pausing, Shiki in tow. To his credit, the man only blanches for a moment, before swiftly regathering himself. "Why are you– Shiki–?!"

"Cover us."

MORTALS ARE FLEETING, BUT I REMAIN ETERNAL.

Jihei-san curses under his breath, then hastens his steps to catch up with them. He flicks his wrist, pale blade glowing with a controlled pulse of cursed energy, and a disc of water rises as a shield to meet another gout of flames.

"Shiki can kill it," Kiyohira-sensei says succinctly. "We're going to get her close enough to do so."

Jihei-san spins around and stares at her, wide-eyed, before he abruptly has to scramble back to suppress another burst of flames.

YOU CANNOT KILL ME.

"That's a big risk you're taking, Kiyohira-san," Jihei-san manages to get out.

"It's our only option," her teacher shakes his head. "With the regeneration and the terrain advantage, this might as well be a Special Grade in terms of its resilience. At this rate, both of us are going to run out of cursed energy before any reinforcements arrive."

"But how can you–"

A massive arm comes down to crush them, blotting out the sun. Jihei-san jerks and prepares to swing his sword again, but before he can do so–

Shiki twists, and uses Kiyohira-sensei's shoulder as a footrest to launch herself upwards into the air. She ignores Jihei-san's startled shout, concentrating on the lines…

And cuts.

The cursed fire does not burn her; the technique is forcibly terminated before it even has a chance to touch her, as myriad lines swiftly break apart beneath the tip of her tanto. And Shiki continues to cut, through the flames and into the very flesh of the cursed god's body.

Kiyohira-sensei catches her again when her momentum finally breaks and she falls, amidst the throes of the cursed god's deafening screams, a meaningless refrain.

YOU CANNOT KILL ME.

Its entire arm is gone. And it doesn't regenerate.

Shiki glances back towards Jihei-san, her meaning obvious. Is that proof enough for you?

Jihei-san breathes out shakily, a low exhale. "I… alright. Alright. Daisaku-sama is going to kill us when we get back, assuming we'll both live through this."

Kiyohira-sensei snorts, "I believe we agreed earlier that you would be the one reporting to Daisaku-sama?"

"… Fuck y–"

"Language!"

Even despite the banter, neither of the men's movements slow down. With a clear goal in mind, one that does not require them to whittle away at a curse capable of recovering from any damage they deal to it, they are quick to cut a swathe through the flames, directly to the cursed god.

YOU CANNOT KILL ME.

The flames concentrated on them blaze and roar in time to the cursed god's eldritch screams, a clear sign of growing agitation as they arrive at their goal.

Close enough.

Shiki readies herself, and leaps into the air once more in a burst of cursed energy.

"Don't die," she thinks she hears Kiyohira-sensei whisper, but it might be a trick of the wind.

YOU CANNOT KILL ME.

YOU CANNOT KILL ME.

STOP.

Shiki does not stop.

Instead, she spins and deftly slashes down through the last wall of flames that suddenly leaps up point-blank in front of her. The little girl lands directly atop the cursed spirit's skull.

ACCURSED CHILD. The reverberations vibrate through her body, rattling her bones. But Shiki does not stumble, does not falter in the least. YOU DARE? I AM A GOD!

"You are," she agrees, "But even gods can die."

Shiki swings her sword.

.

.

…

.