Chapter Text
Once the first sunbeams of spring bravely break through the clouds and beckon forth the first blossoms from the thawing ground, Takemichi packs what few of his belongings he will presumably need on the road, and he sets out to leave the capital for the first time in his life.
Which, of course, doesn’t happen without fanfare. Manjirō had been acting particularly moody in the preceding weeks and insisted that he wouldn’t let Takemichi leave without him – until the others, most prominently among them Ken, reminded him that he did, in fact, still have a court to rule over that he couldn’t just abandon for months on end; especially after the events surrounding Kisaki.
Manjirō had refused to talk to them for several days after that, but eventually seen reason and decided to stay behind at the shrine complex.
For Takemichi, that was just as well – he would have enjoyed his company on the road, sure, but he (and the number of others who had also mentioned their desire to accompany him) probably would draw some attention even if they tried to behave like regular travellers, and Takemichi wants a break from other people treating him like something dangerous or something to be revered. Both of these things make him uncomfortable, especially because he can barely walk the paths of the shrine complex these days without people bowing to him left and right. He doesn’t know how the kami can endure that kind of thing on a daily basis.
No, he doesn’t want to attract more attention to himself than absolutely necessary – and then there’s also the second reason why he wants to travel alone.
Unlike what he told everyone at the shrine complex, he does actually have an idea of where he wants to go first – but he knows it would be met with some protest, so he kept it from the others when they asked. All he said was that he wants to see the mountains up close, which isn’t a lie, so he only feels a little bit guilty about the whole thing.
Either way, Takemichi makes his way north first, towards the imposing mountain range towering in the distance that he’s fantasized about seeing from up close ever since he was a young child.
The first stretch of his journey there takes him across the vast plains, following the Mitsuya river upstream.
Sometimes, when he’s close enough to said river to look into its waters, he believes to catch a glimpse of a large serpentine body and pearlescent scales shimmering beneath the waves – but Takashi keeps his distance like he promised, only watching over Takemichi from afar.
Still, the latter is grateful for the reminder that Takashi is there for him during those first weeks of his journey where he still has to get used to being on the road, to the almost overwhelming feeling of having the freedom to go wherever he wants to for the first time in his life.
What makes it a bit easier for him, too, is the fact that the people living in the plains turn out to largely be friendly folk, and most of them are willing to give a lonesome traveller shelter and a meal.
He’s also not the only traveller perusing the well-paved trading roads connecting the capital and its main source of produce: he passes many merchant caravans with their ox-drawn carts that journey to offer their wares on the markets, now that spring has come.
For some stretches of the way, he travels with one – it’s safer, and though he’s slower than on foot, it’s definitely more comfortable to travel on the back of a cart than to walk for an entire day.
But of course, the closer he gets to the mountains and the more the river’s lush floodplains make way for rugged foothills, the less comfortable the travelling conditions become.
Takemichi’s path eventually leads him away from the river, towards more sparsely settled areas. The people are more wary of strangers here, too, Takemichi finds – he can’t blame them, for the mountains and foothills are yōkai land. Adding to that, the roads are also not as well-maintained in these areas where fewer wares flow and fewer caravans pass thanks to the lack of larger settlements.
These factors combined lead to Takemichi having to travel by himself on foot most of the time and really needing to plan where he’s going to spend the night – even with the protection of everyone back at home, he’d like to avoid encountering any hostile yōkai out here alone in the wilderness if he can help it.
Then, one day about three weeks into Takemichi’s journey, the sky above him darkens. The winds pick up, urging the black storm clouds towards the mountains which they cannot cross. The temperature drops, and before Takemichi knows it, the sky opens its gates to pour down torrential rains onto the world below.
Takemichi, as he has to find out, is woefully unprepared for a spring storm like this. If he’d paid more attention to the clouds building above him, he might have stayed in the village he’d left the day before – but he misjudged, and because he’d been impatient to get to his next destination before the storms hit, he’d pressed onwards despite the warnings.
Now he’s caught right in the middle of it, and it makes for a truly miserable travelling experience.
The dirt road he’s following has turned into mud long ago, and every time Takemichi lifts his feet for a step, he has to tug a little to get his soles unstuck. This makes walking a far more exhausting ordeal than usual, and together with the torrents of rain from above that have thoroughly soaked through all his layers of clothing already, Takemichi is quickly growing tired of travelling for the day.
He doesn’t dare to take his map out of its hopefully sufficiently waterproof case, but he remembers from his last look at it hours ago that he’s reached an especially sparsely populated area in which he’s more likely to come across a lone farmhouse than a village, let alone a town with a proper inn.
He can’t exactly camp outside in this weather, though; especially because Takemichi remembers that this region – called the Ash Valley, probably because of its poor soil quality that makes even the trees look malnourished and grey – is one of those parts of the country that he’s been cautioned about when planning his travels. One where particularly dangerous yōkai are said to dwell, and where people go missing more often than elsewhere. He’d like to not get added onto that list, thank you very much.
So he presses on, the dark overcast sky making it really difficult for him to gauge how late in the day it is, or to track the time that passes as he keeps walking, hoping against all odds to find a friendly house to spend the night at.
Even after what Takemichi assumes to be another hour on the road, the rain shows no signs of stopping anytime soon.
He’s about to give up and acquaint himself with the reality of having a truly miserable night of huddling underneath some tree out in the open when suddenly, he catches sight of something glimmering faintly in the distance up ahead by the road.
Takemichi has to squint through the thick curtains of rain, but yes, he saw correctly: there is a light somewhere ahead of him. No doubt about it.
The hope bubbling up inside of him quickens his steps. The light is stationary and steady, so it must be a lit window – and as he gets closer, more of them become visible to him, until he can make out through the darkness and the rain that he is approaching a two-storied house.
A roadside inn.
Takemichi can hardly believe his luck. He struggles to cross the last few metres of muddy puddles, eyes fixed onto the lights that promise a warm, dry place to stay for the night – as well as a bath and a warm meal, if his luck continues.
With his last remaining energy, he drags himself to the doorstep and pushes against the wooden door. Fearing already that it might be locked, another wave of relief floods him when it instead opens easily under his hand and reveals behind it a clean and warmly furnished lobby.
Not hesitating for even another moment, Takemichi steps inside and slides the door closed behind him, locking out the rain and wind.
Calmness greets him.
His first impression is that this ryokan is more on the high-end side (which is thankfully not a problem for him, owing to the generous travel funds that he was provided with by Chifuyu and others – he was a bit embarrassed and upset about it at first but is beginning to feel really grateful just about now).
Aside from him, the lobby is empty of people. There is no clerk to welcome him, but the building is clearly inhabited – faint music drifts from somewhere down the hallway to his left, which presumably leads to the guest rooms. A light floral scent lies in the air, probably originating from the fresh flower arrangements displayed in several places around the room. Everything looks exceptionally elegant and clean.
“Hello? Excuse me…!”
As soon as Takemichi’s voice rings out, the distant music stops.
“One moment! I’ll be with you shortly,” a male voice calls out from the direction the music was coming from, and Takemichi starts hearing unhurried steps approaching the lobby.
Seconds later, a rather tall man emerges from the hallway with a welcoming smile on his handsome face. He wears his long hair in two braids and is dressed in what Takemichi assumes are very fashionable robes, all in all looking like he could’ve been plucked straight off the streets of one of the capital’s most affluent neighbourhoods.
It feels kind of strange to meet a person like that in such a remote location in the countryside, but who knows – some ryokan are travel destinations themselves thanks to, for example, their healing hot spring baths. Maybe that’s the case here, too. If so, Takemichi thinks, he’s doubly lucky to have found this place.
“Welcome to our inn, traveller,” the man greets him in his smooth voice, “Please excuse the wait – we didn’t quite expect new guests at this hour, and in this weather.”
He looks Takemichi up and down and his charming smile doesn’t shrink one bit, but there’s something in his eyes that looks a little bit like suspicion.
Takemichi suddenly becomes acutely aware of how dirty and ragged he must look, dripping water and mud everywhere. In comparison to the receptionist – at least he supposes that’s who this man is at the current time – he feels horribly out of place here.
“Ah- uh- I’m sorry for the mud,” he mutters, feeling shameful heat rising to his face.
“Could I- could I maybe get a room for the night…? Um, and a bath, I guess…”
The man laughs airily.
“Aren’t you a precious one! Of course we have a room for you. Don’t you worry about the dirt – our helpers will clean that up in no time at all.
…Oh, but where are my manners?”
He gives Takemichi a brief and elegant bow, his braids and long sleeves swishing with the motion.
“I am Haitani Ran, proprietor of this humble establishment. And what is your name, my dear traveller?”
“H-hanagaki Takemichi,” Takemichi stutters back, slightly overwhelmed by the man’s mannerisms and dangerously charming smile. Frequent exposure to beautiful men unfortunately does not mean that Takemichi has developed a resistance by now.
“Wonderful,” Haitani says, smile widening.
Then he looks back over his shoulder and calls in the direction of the hallway he came from, “Rinrin, come here! We have a lovely new guest!”
It seems like “Rinrin” was already on his way to them, because barely a moment later, another man steps out of the hallway.
He wears robes very similar to Haitani’s, immediately suggesting that he is also part of the establishment. Behind the round eyeglasses perching on his nose, his features are pulled into a frown.
“I’ve told you not to call me that in front of customers,” are the first words he grumbles upon stepping into the lobby.
Haitani laughs again.
“Aw, don’t be like that. You know it won’t matter.”
With a bright smile, he turns back to Takemichi, “May I introduce: my little brother, Rindō. He helps me in running this place.”
And Takemichi sees the resemblance: Rindō has the same downturned violet eyes, the same elegant slope to his nose, the same almost insultingly perfect jawline.
Only his attitude is so very different – but that, too, changes once he sets his eyes on Takemichi and his annoyed frown makes way for a smile nearly as bright and charming as his brother’s. It’s almost a bit unnerving how quickly this change happens.
“Actually,” he says, “we’re both the owners. Pleased to have you here… what was your name-?”
He holds out his hand to Takemichi, who shakes it, somewhat intimidated, and then has to suppress a pained gasp because Rindō’s grip is really firm.
“This is Hanagaki Takemichi,” Ran introduces him before Takemichi can get a word out.
“Hmm, I like it,” Rindō judges, and finally lets go of Takemichi’s aching hand.
“What a joy to have a guest tonight.”
“O-oh.” Takemichi blinks, “Am I the only guest…?”
Ran hums his affirmative.
“That’s true, Hanagaki-kun. The weather’s been the way it is for days now – and you’ve evidently seen the state of the roads in these parts for yourself.”
He gives a deep, mournful sigh.
“We’ve been having very few customers lately. It’s been quite wearisome…”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Takemichi offers, sympathetic though slightly taken aback by the overly familiar form of address. The Haitani brothers clearly are a bit eccentric – the thought that this might also be a reason for why they’re seeing few guests crosses his mind, but he decides not to dwell on it. He’s just happy that he gets to have a dry and warm place to sleep tonight.
When he looks over, Ran is smiling again.
“Well, fortunately for us, you’re here now.”
“Fortunate for you, too,” Rindō throws in. “You’ll have our full attention, so you’ll get the best service possible.”
He grins at Takemichi, and his brother laughs his agreement as he goes to take Takemichi’s drenched coat.
“We will take very good care of you.”
No more than ten minutes later, Takemichi sinks into a private hot spring bath with a blissful sigh.
Since there are no other guests, the brothers have offered him free access to all parts of the baths that he wants to use; though to be honest, Takemichi doesn’t care that much – he’d have been satisfied with a bath in a barrel as long as the water was hot enough to warm up his freezing body.
He’d left his dirty clothes at the entrance to the bath, and the Haitanis promised that they’d be washed for him. In the meantime, he could just wear the provided yukata.
What luxury – to think that he didn’t have to worry about any of that stuff for once… Though it goes against his ingrained habits, part of him thinks that he’d like to enjoy this kind of experience more often.
Maybe he’d plan some stops at other ryokan over the course of his travels. He thinks he would like a bath in a hot spring under the open sky.
This ryokan has outside baths as well, which would have been nice if only it weren’t still raining and storming so heavily. Even through the closed doors, Takemichi can still hear the angry howling of the wind. It’s no wonder that few people were crazy enough to travel in this weather.
Takemichi has definitely learned his lesson: Next time, he will wait out the storm instead of trying to push through to the next settlement.
If he hadn’t found this ryokan, he really would’ve been in trouble. In his mind’s eye, Ken’s face appears, scolding him for his dumb decisions.
…He wonders what the river god is doing right now. And the others, too. As his mind wanders to his home at the shrine complex, a strange ache settles in his heart.
He misses them.
This must be that so-called “homesickness” that some travellers apparently get when they’re far away from home. He never thought he’d experience something like it; but then again, he’d never expected to experience being a traveller for most of his life, either.
With a sigh, he lets himself sink even deeper into the soothing warmth, leaning his head back and looking up at the wooden ceiling.
At the edge of his vision, he notices movement: When he looks over, his gaze falls upon a large golden orb-weaver spider currently constructing its web in a corner of the ceiling.
Takemichi recognises this kind of spider with its very recognisable yellow-striped abdomen – they could often be encountered inside the servants’ quarters, especially during autumn. They’re pretty much harmless, so he isn’t concerned; though it strikes him as a bit strange to see such a large one now while it’s still spring.
He might have thought about it more if he didn’t hear a knock on the door in this very moment, followed by Haitani Rindō’s voice sounding from outside, “Hanagaki-kun, when you’re done with your bath, we’ll serve your dinner in your room,” and the thought of a hot meal makes him forget everything else for now – even the homesickness.
The room that the brothers show him to is supposedly the inn’s best, or so Ran claims with an indulgent smile on his face.
Again, Takemichi doesn’t care much about that as long as he gets a futon and a roof over his head that it doesn’t rain through, but he has to admit that the room is very nice. It’s quite spacious, and it even has a hearth sunk into the floor.
It is here that the brothers serve him his dinner: a pot of broth bubbling above the glowing charcoal, as well as plenty of vegetables and thinly sliced meat to boil in said broth.
Additionally, Ran places down a porcelain cup filled with warm plum wine on the low table.
“It’s on the house,” he says, and even though Takemichi tries at first to refuse out of politeness, he has to admit that the wine is very pleasant to drink – sweet and comforting, and just right to round off the delicious meal.
“How was it?” Rindō asks, perhaps a bit too bluntly to be polite, once he returns to take away the used dishes.
Unperturbed, Takemichi gives him a beaming grin, in too good of a mood after his bath and dinner to let the man’s mannerisms bother him.
“It was so good! Thank you so much!”
Rindō blinks at him for a moment – then he wordlessly looks away and starts collecting the dishes. It has Takemichi wondering whether he said something wrong, somehow; but try as he might, he can’t find any fault with his words.
The awkward moment thankfully gets interrupted by Ran.
“You must be very tired, Hanagaki-kun. Would you like for me to prepare your futon now?”
“Oh… It’s no problem; I can do it myself—”
Takemichi gives that answer out of reflex, but Ran quickly waves him off.
“Nonsense! You’re our guest. Just relax, Hanagaki-kun, and indulge a little, yes?”
With a pleased smile upon a lack of objection, he goes to lay out the futon while Takemichi watches, feeling a bit awkward about it all. But something about Ran’s expression, though polite, told him that the other wouldn’t appreciate any further protest.
It’s probably a point of pride for him to provide his customers with the best possible service – he wouldn’t be the only business owner with that kind of outlook. Takemichi has met a few, and they never take no for an answer when it comes to these kinds of things.
Just looking at the futon has Takemichi wanting nothing more than to crawl under the soft bedding and sleep off all of the aches and exhaustion that travelling left him with.
He suddenly notices how tired he actually is – of course, he’s been on the road for the entire day, and fighting his way through the rainstorm has only exacerbated the toil of it all. The tiredness crashes into Takemichi with the might of a tidal wave now that he is clean and warm and his belly is full.
He can’t suppress a hearty yawn – and promptly blushes at the look that earns him from Ran.
“It seems like it is high time for you to go to bed, hm?” the man hums, that mysterious smile playing around the corners of his mouth again.
“Well, there you go. All ready for you.”
“T-thank you.”
“Sweet dreams, Hanagaki-kun.”
Still smiling, Ran gives him one last theatrical bow before finally leaving the room, closing the sliding door behind him.
Takemichi’s shoulders slump. He can’t help it; the man’s presence makes him nervous.
But that doesn’t matter now. Another yawn escapes Takemichi, and he decides to forego his plans of reading a little in the novel that Chifuyu had tucked into his traveller’s pack. All he’s going to do this evening is sleep.
Music reaches his ears as he climbs under the sheets, sounding like it’s coming from an adjacent room.
Takemichi recognises the tune as the same one he heard when he arrived here. From the sound of it, it’s being played on a shamisen – and quite expertly, too; like a soothing lullaby to see him off into the land of dreams.
Well – who is he to decline?
In curling up underneath his blanket, Takemichi notices another golden orb-weaver spider on the ceiling, but he’s decidedly too tired to care about that now. Maybe he’ll inform the Haitanis tomorrow that they might need to keep an eye on the spider population.
Thinking that, he closes his eyes.
The dulcet, yet melancholy notes of the shamisen drifting over from next door accompany his swift and peaceful descent into sleep.
He doesn’t manage to catch the soft laughter that follows, nor the odd clicking noises getting louder.
But even if he had: By this point, it would have already been too late.
Takemichi is standing in a dark corridor. A few lanterns on the walls cast a pale, eerie glow on the wood panels, the only thing allowing Takemichi to see that he is in a corridor in the first place.
Ahead of him, outside of the lanterns’ strangely colourless shine, lies only darkness. When he turns around, the same thing applies to the opposite direction.
Takemichi doesn’t recognise this place, but he knows that he doesn’t want to be here.
Taking one of the lanterns off its wall mounting, he takes a few steps into the foreboding black void, the sounds of them echoing through the silent darkness at a startling volume.
The lantern’s already low light seems to dim more with every further step Takemichi takes. The shadows that surround him seem to encroach on him as the pale flame inside his lanterns flickers and sputters. A shudder trickles down his back, yet he presses onwards.
So far, the corridor has been entirely featureless – only wooden boards and panels and more of the same.
Now, after a good few minutes of walking, the dying glow of the lantern reveals a set of sliding double doors in the wall to Takemichi’s left.
The ever-present silence is suddenly interrupted by a faint noise; a clicking that feels vaguely familiar, like the sound of many skittering insectoid legs.
After hesitating for a few breaths, Takemichi slides open the doors just as the light in his lantern flickers out.
The inside of the room he finds himself in is illuminated by dim moonlight shining through the screen doors on the far wall.
Takemichi approaches them, glad to leave this building as soon as possible, but then something stops him. Literally stops him – as much as he wants to, his feet won’t move a bit.
What’s worse, he sees movement in the shadows from the corners of his eyes but can’t even turn his head, as if his entire body’s been petrified.
The clicking noise gets louder as Takemichi’s heartbeat hammers in his ears. Steps? He tries to call for help, but no sound leaves his mouth.
Then the movement that he noticed finally enters his frozen field of vision – but Takemichi promptly wishes that it hadn’t.
What he thought to be a liquid or shifting shadows at first turns out to be an endless mass of small spiders encroaching on him, flooding the entire room like one single fluid organism.
Petrified as he is, Takemichi can do nothing but watch as the paper screens and with them the only source of light gets blotted out by the skittering wave, drowning him entirely in darkness. He thinks he can feel the animals crawling all over him, but he can’t see – all he can perceive anymore is that periodical sound he’s been hearing, loud enough now that it seems to be right next to his ears, a sound that now almost resembles mandibles clicking.
Takemichi feels warm breath hitting his neck, but there is nothing he can do – nothing but stand still and wait for either the flood of spiders to engulf him whole, or for whatever other creature is there with him to make its move.
Takemichi holds his breath.
Something touches his neck—
Takemichi wakes with a start.
For a moment he’s disoriented and confused, with the unnerving images from his dream already fading from his memory but his mind still unable to parse which sensations are real and which are not. His eyes see only darkness, which adds to the confusion.
He hears rustling, and quiet clicking noises that he can’t identify, but that for some reason cause a sense of deep unease within him.
Then, too, there are quiet voices. They sound familiar.
As Takemichi’s consciousness slowly returns, he starts being able to make out the words being spoken:
“…and it’s such a cute little bird that got caught in our web this time. Aren’t we lucky?”
“Yeah… It’s a shame, though. I want to keep him.”
“Aw, I know. It’s such a pity that we can’t. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still enjoy ourselves a little.”
“Pretty risky, though, isn’t it?”
“Don’t be like that… I know we both like the thrill.”
Takemichi’s unease grows when the two voices ring out in laughter after that. He tries to move his hands to feel around through the darkness, but finds that he can’t. Panic pierces through him – something is tugging at his wrists, some sort of restraints, and his legs feel the same when he tries to move them instead.
His breathing quickens.
“Ah,” one of the voices says, “it looks like our little bird is waking up.”
Finally, enough memory returns to Takemichi for him to recognise the voice. Haitani Ran. One of the ryokan’s proprietors – right, he was staying at a ryokan because of the storm that he can still faintly hear raging outside. But what’s going on here? Is he being robbed? Are the Haitani brothers actually bandits that pose as innkeepers to attack travellers in their sleep, tie them up, and rob them blind? Is that why he can’t move?
In the very next moment, Takemichi realises that he can’t speak, either. When he tries to call out in fright, something muffles his voice.
“Oh, right, you can’t see anything, can you? Let me help you with that.”
Rindō’s amused drawl doesn’t sound like his offer of help will actually bode well for Takemichi, and only seems to confirm the latter’s suspicions of what he’s gotten himself into.
However, when the piece of cloth that was covering his eyes gets removed, it very quickly becomes obvious to Takemichi that his circumstances are actually much, much worse.
As he blinks rapidly, trying to get his eyes used to the sudden light, the Haitani brothers’ faces come into focus with their respective expressions equally unnerving in the current situation – a placid smile on Ran’s, and a toothy grin on Rindō’s.
“Welcome back, Hanagaki-kun. How was your sleep?” Ran inquires with false politeness, but Takemichi only listens to his words with half an ear. What actually occupies his attention, instead, is what he’s seeing.
Because it’s not just the expressions on the brothers’ faces.
And all at once, it dawns on Takemichi that it is very unlikely that he’ll make it out of this alive.
“Poor little bird,” Ran coos, only smiling in response to the muffled, panicked noises Takemichi makes through the gag.
He’s enjoying this. They both are.
Takemichi has heard before that their kind tends to be particularly sadistic, not satisfied with simply killing and eating their victims, but instead taking great pleasure in tormenting them and toying with them for as long as possible before striking the final blow.
Takemichi’s eyes are drawn towards Ran as the latter moves closer, his eight long legs making barely any sounds against the tatami flooring of the room. He appears even taller now and more imposing as well thanks to the changes to his anatomy: from his waist down, his body is that of a large spider, with a bulbous black abdomen and eight spindly, yellow-striped spider legs.
Takemichi’s attempt at flinching away from him only seems to amuse him further.
“Really, we would’ve woken you up sooner… But you looked so, so tired. It would’ve been cruel not to let you sleep in peace, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Mmmf!”
“Sounds like agreement to me,” Rindō comments. He wears his robes draped around his waist now, revealing his toned upper body which is still very much that of a human, as well as the stark black lines of a large tattoo spreading across the right side of his torso and extending down his right arm: one half of a spider, with its body shaped like a stylized skull.
His grin widens when Takemichi’s wide eyes meet his.
“Told you you’d have our full attention, didn’t I? You’ll be joining the ranks of our countless satisfied customers – so satisfied, I’m telling you, that they never left again!”
He snickers at his own joke, and the sound rings out cruelly through the room.
They’re no longer inside the guest room that Takemichi fell asleep in – this room is smaller and more cluttered, only dimly lit by lanterns. Takemichi doesn’t want to imagine what the dark shapes littered all across the floor are, but his mind comes up with plenty of ideas all against his will.
It doesn’t matter, not when he finally recognises this entire place for what it is.
It’s not simply a ryokan – it’s a jorōgumo lair.
Anger at himself mingles with the fear.
How did he not pick up on any of the signs?
Granted, there weren’t many – jorōgumo are said to be very talented and tricky shape-shifters, and the Haitani brothers certainly seem to be an example of that – but Takemichi should have been more cautious. He let himself be lured in by the promise of rest after his arduous time on the road, and now he’s likely going to pay a steep price for it.
Despite the immediate danger of the situation, Takemichi’s thoughts inevitably return to Manjirō and the others. What if this is where his journey ends? What if he never gets to return to them?
He can’t help but think of their faces – smiles turning into grief, or perhaps just cold disappointment because he did not keep his promise.
In this moment, he misses them so much it hurts.
Takemichi is jolted back to the here and now by Ran’s voice – his voice, and his knuckles brushing a tear from Takemichi's cheek with deceptive gentleness.
“Aww, don’t cry, Hanagaki-kun.”
The spider yōkai still manages to act perfectly poised and polite even now that the brothers have revealed their true identity – but the pleased glint in his eyes gives away the act, now that he has Takemichi at his mercy.
Takemichi tries to pull away from the jorōgumo’s touch, but it proves to be futile. He can’t move much at all; he’s lacking the leverage – he’s suspended in the air, hanging a few hand’s breadths above the ground entangled within a weave of sturdy, shimmering string.
Spider silk, of course. Flexible, yet nigh indestructible – at least, that’s what Takemichi’s heard being told about jorōgumo webs. Some fabric merchants in the capital are supposedly willing to pay a fortune for even just a few threads. His gag is made from the same material, and so far it has resisted all of his attempts at chewing through it.
Nevertheless, he keeps trying.
A lazy smile twitches at the corners of Ran’s mouth as he watches Takemichi’s efforts with hooded eyes.
“Oh? Does our little bird want to sing?”
“Oh yes, let him sing already!” Rindō agrees immediately while Takemichi spits out a desperate curse that the gag renders completely unintelligible, “I want to hear him.”
Ran laughs. “Eager, aren’t we?”
Takemichi isn’t entirely sure whether he’s addressing his brother or him, but that doesn’t matter much when the end result is the same: Ran’s hands moving to the back of Takemichi’s head to undo the knot, and the gag falling away from the latter’s mouth.
Takemichi inhales a deep breath of short-lived relief.
“There you go, little bird,” Ran says, his smile just a little bit too pleased.
“Now… we’ll get to the fun part.”
He says it like he wasn’t already having plenty of fun watching Takemichi struggling entangled in their web.
“A-are you going to kill me?”
Takemichi’s voice cracks a little mid-sentence, and he knows the two jorōgumo are enjoying themselves without even having to look at their faces.
Instead of answering him immediately, Ran reaches down for one of the dimly-lit objects on the floor – the ones that Takemichi could identify only as dark shapes earlier – and raises it into the light for Takemichi to see.
It’s a human skull.
The bone is clean and bleached white, and the empty eye sockets seem to stare accusingly at Takemichi as Ran pats it absent-mindedly, almost as if he had already forgotten all about holding it in his hands.
He hums, tilting his head and studying Takemichi like he’s still trying to decide on the matter; but to the latter it feels evident that he’s just being played with.
Nausea washes through him.
“Before we talk about any of that,” Ran says, waving it off like this isn’t about Takemichi’s very life, “you’ll have to tell us why you had more protective charms and enchanted knick-knacks on your person than any other human I’ve ever seen.”
Takemichi feels the blood rush from his face.
His eyes are drawn to the movement when Ran reaches into his robes with his free hand and produces a round object: a smooth black river stone engraved with geometric patterns that Takemichi recognises all too well. Up until a few hours ago, it had been safely stashed away within his travelling gear.
It doesn’t look special. Anyone who isn’t trained in magic – and isn’t a yōkai – would probably take it for a simple memento.
Takemichi knows it isn’t, and clearly, so do the Haitanis.
He had found that stone next to his futon at home one day. Palm-sized and almost perfectly round, polished smooth by the river, it somehow felt very comforting to hold in his hands. Takemichi had traced the patterns carved into its black surface with his fingertip.
Right next to it, he’d found a note.
No matter where you are, this will always show you the way home.
He couldn’t identify the handwriting, but he didn’t have to.
Still, Takemichi pretends.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the stone.
“Is that so…?” Ran hums, letting it disappear into his long sleeve in a quick, fluid motion. Takemichi twitches, and the jorōgumo’s smile grows.
“And there’s this thing, too,” Rindō adds in a deadpan voice, lifting his hand to reveal what he’s holding: The leather string with the little fox-shaped pendant that Manjirō insisted Takemichi wear at all times and that the latter, adhering to his wishes, doesn’t even take off when he goes to sleep at night.
His heart plummets.
Rindō lazily waves the pendant around.
“It’s probably just some souvenir, though, right? Oh, let me guess: Someone just slipped it into your pocket one day! Or maybe a clueless merchant gifted it to you along with your other purchases? Was it that?”
Before Takemichi can find anything to say, Ran lets out a soft laugh.
“Aw, otōto, that’s all way too unlikely. Be a bit more realistic. It must have been some mysterious hooded traveller who gifted it to him one day, telling him to keep it safe until his return. Right, Takemichi-kun?”
“I-I don’t—”
“This is some curious magic,” Ran casually cuts him off, “Not something one would see every other day, let alone on a human. And it’s not even half of what we’ve come across within your belongings. You really are an extraordinary one, aren’t you, little bird?”
Takemichi shakes his head.
“Oh? Are you really sure?”
A grin that shows too much teeth spreads across Rindō’s face.
“If you’re a bird that doesn’t want to chirp, we have ways to remedy that…”
Those disconcerting words are accompanied by a very quick questioning glance in Ran’s direction, as if asking for permission.
An amused nod seals Takemichi’s fate.
Looking delighted, Rindō reaches for one of the threads of spider silk stretching across the room, all of which seem to connect in some way to the restraints suspending Takemichi in mid-air.
He pulls – and Takemichi only has a fraction of a second to wonder what he’s doing before sharp pain lances through his shoulder, his arm being pulled and twisted by the elaborate weave of silken threads. He cries out and tries desperately to diminish the strain on his joints, but he has no way to move his body enough to achieve any kind of relief.
After what feels like a small eternity, Rindō finally lets go. The white-hot pain slowly ebbs away and Takemichi slumps, breathing heavily and still trembling through the aftershocks.
“See? Told you I’d make you chirp.”
The grin is plainly audible in Rindō’s voice.
“That was beautiful, by the way.”
Takemichi can’t find it in himself to respond to the taunts. The pain has waned to only a dull throb by now, but worse is what it left behind. Even when he was being pursued by Kisaki-no-kami’s ink servants, he didn’t feel this helpless.
He’s actually going to die this time, isn’t he?
There’s nothing left on his person that could help him; not that he’d have any way of reaching it currently. And there’s no way that the brothers are just going to let him go. That much was evident the moment they revealed themselves as jorōgumo.
The reality of it, though, only sunk in along with the pain.
Again he can’t help but think about Manjirō and everyone else. That is the worst torment of them all: to imagine that they will be waiting for his return only for him to have died alone and useless far away from home. How long will they wait before giving up? Given that they are immortal, Takemichi can imagine them waiting pointlessly for a long, long time.
Tears well up in his eyes, and he has no way of stopping them from running down his face.
“True, true.”
Ran’s voice has not lost its amused lilt.
“It’s no surprise that someone seems to have taken a shine to this precious little bird.”
Takemichi flinches, eyes wide, when the jorōgumo brushes a finger down his cheek with mocking gentleness.
“Ah, it really makes you wonder, doesn’t it? If you ask me, it looks like someone really wanted to keep you safe. What a pity that you don’t seem to know anything! It is so fascinating, though. Really, I wonder whose precious pet has wandered into our den here…?”
He trails off, resting his chin in his palm, and both he and his brother look at Takemichi silently and expectantly, giving him a chance to reply.
“I don’t know—” A spike of panic shoots through Takemichi when he watches Rindō playfully flick a silken thread, “There’s- there’s nothing special about me-!”
But Ken’s words from what feels like ages ago echo in his mind: ‘There’s something special about everyone, if one bothers to look. We happened to be looking.’
Unfortunately for Takemichi, the Haitani brothers also seem to be looking.
Ran sighs and carelessly lets the skull he was still holding fall back to the ground. It lands with a dry clatter in a pile of what Takemichi can only assume are more bony remains of the brothers’ past victims.
“A pity, really.”
Takemichi’s eyes dart nervously from him to Rindō, and back to him.
“If only you could tell us whose eye you have caught,” Ran sighs again, shrugging theatrically.
“Who knows? We would hate to touch the property of someone truly powerful, you know…”
And Takemichi considers it.
For a moment, he allows himself to consider just telling them to potentially save his own life.
But he knows from the countless tales he’s heard about jorōgumo that they are duplicitous creatures, keen on figuring out their adversaries’ weaknesses to use them against them, and that many of them are exceptionally power-hungry as well.
If he reveals that he is, as Ran put it, the property of a number of kami – well, he can’t imagine what exactly the brothers would try to do with that knowledge, but he very much doubts they would even keep their word in the first place.
Why would they let him go, after all?
They would have to be aware that they’ll for sure be killed if Takemichi breathes a word of what happened here to Manjirō or any of the others. Jorōgumo are powerful yōkai, but not powerful enough to take on gods… unless, of course, if they knew about a serious weakness that they could exploit.
“Still nothing?”
If he didn’t know better, Takemichi would say that Rindō sounds almost a bit impressed.
What’s more likely is that he’s just excited to have a reason to keep torturing Takemichi.
And indeed, he tightens his grip on the threads, tilts his head at the scared little yelp Takemichi lets out – but before he can actually do anything, his brother holds up his hand.
Rindō immediately lets go again, but Takemichi doesn’t dare to breathe in case either of them changes their mind.
His nervous gaze follows Ran as the latter begins circling him slowly, eyes still boring into him even when that almost airy smile still plays around his mouth.
“It’s no use, though, little bird. There is something very special about you,” he insists softly, a gleam to his eye, “Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”
Takemichi’s voice comes out as a rasp, “W-what?”
Ran tilts his head, expression revealing nothing.
“You belong to a god, little one.”
Oh.
“That’s right,” Rindō adds into Takemichi’s stunned silence, “There’s no use in trying to hide it. He’s marked you, after all.”
Takemichi stares back at him, too stunned to feel intimidated.
“…Marked…?”
“What, you didn’t know?”
Amusement swings in Ran’s voice. He lifts his hand and softly drags the pad of his finger across the space between Takemichi’s shoulder blades.
The latter inadvertently shudders.
“He has burned his symbol into you – this manji makes it clear whose property you are. Really, you didn’t know?”
When Takemichi can do nothing but stare, he laughs.
“Oh, how adorable.”
And Takemichi wants so badly to be able to say decisively that Ran is lying – but he can’t. Not when he remembers the look in Manjirō’s eyes, that day in the bathhouse. His promise. The burn in that exact spot Ran just touched.
And- ah.
So that’s what Priest Itō saw that day that spooked him so much: the mark of Sano-no-kami; a clear warning to him or anyone else who would dare to touch Takemichi.
It makes a lot of sense, but that doesn’t mean the betrayal stings any less.
Why did Manjirō never tell him?
“Our web extends across the entire country, you know. We’ve heard rumours about the human who’s caught Sano-no-kami’s attention,” Rindō says. He’s eyeing Takemichi like he’s gauging how much of a challenge he would be as prey.
“It was hard to believe – Sano-no-kami, settling for an ordinary human? He’s called ‘invincible,’ did you know that?”
Takemichi had not known that. But there were many things about the kami that he did not yet know. This only served to remind him of that.
“But it seems he was defeated, after all – infatuation is such an insidious thing. I have to say, even now I find it hard to believe that the great Sano-no-kami has supposedly fallen for someone so weak. And yet…”
Ran again caresses the marked skin between Takemichi’s shoulder blades, eliciting another shudder of discomfort.
“…the evidence is right here. Plain as day.”
The delight in his voice is hard to miss.
Several different rapid-fire thoughts ricochet inside Takemichi’s mind and make it impossible for him to find anything to say; from the secret Manjirō kept from him to knowing now that the jorōgumo were testing him this entire time because they already knew the truth.
They already knew the truth.
That, finally, is the thought that wins out over the others in the mental struggle for Takemichi’s attention.
If they already know… then there’s very little he can do to stop them from using that knowledge, using him, against Manjirō and the others.
And in the end, he’ll probably end up as part of the scattered pile of human bones on the floor.
Rindō’s voice rips Takemichi from his thoughts back into the present.
“What should we do about this, aniki…?”
It’s phrased like a question, but judging from the look on Rindō’s face he already has an answer, and it’s one that Takemichi isn’t going to like.
His brother lets out a contemplative hum.
“How about we talk a little bit more? Getting to know each other better is the best start to establishing a positive relationship.”
Ran tilts his head, giving Takemichi a smile.
“Isn’t it so, little bird?”
They’re not being subtle at all, Takemichi thinks. What they want is information: Anything that can give them even more of an advantage than they know they already have.
He presses his lips firmly together, which Ran comments on with a heavy sigh.
“Stubborn,” he says. “Don’t you know that it’s quite rude to deny your hosts a simple polite conversation?”
“Nothing about this is polite—!” Takemichi can’t help but protest, tugging on the silken threads around his arms for emphasis, but Ran shushes him and he snaps his mouth shut again – remembering that he shouldn’t speak at all, lest he accidentally spills something he shouldn’t.
“I hope you don’t intend to reject our hospitality,” Ran continues, “Rindō put so much effort into these webs… And aren’t they just marvellous? A human like you must have never seen anything comparable before.”
I’ve seen plenty of wonderful things and this doesn’t even get close, Takemichi thinks, but bites his tongue.
“So much effort just for you, Takemichi-kun. Not everyone gets this exclusive treatment.”
Rindō casually kicks away one of the skulls on the floor, as if to underline his statement.
“Won’t you be just a little bit grateful?”
Takemichi remains stubbornly silent.
“Alright.” Rindō sighs, too. “You’re practically forcing my hand here, you know?”
And without any further warning, fresh pain shoots through Takemichi – this time, though, it’s not just his shoulder that’s being twisted beyond its limits, but all of his limbs – the pain is intense, almost electric, a heated nail being driven through his body to the point that it’s all he can think about.
He screams.
He must have blacked out for a few moments.
When he comes back to, the strain on his joints is gone and the pain is slowly ebbing away – and when he blinks open his eyes, he sees Rindō’s face right in front of him.
His chin resting in his palm, he gazes almost lazily at Takemichi.
“You know, you could easily put an end to this,” he says, “And I don’t have to tell you how, right?”
He’s right. But there’s one thing he doesn’t know – namely, the fact that Takemichi is not unused to enduring pain.
And if it’s for the sake of protecting his most important people, he’s willing to endure this over and over.
So Takemichi wordlessly shakes his head, even as he’s still gasping for air, throat raw from screaming.
Close as he is, he can see the little spark of something flash in Rindō’s eyes.
“Wow~” the latter hums, “It’s been a while since the last time I’ve really had to work to make someone break—”
His brother puts a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.
“I hate to interrupt your fun, but alas,” Ran says, “I’m getting bored of it all.”
Rindō steps back with surprisingly little protest as his brother moves closer instead, close enough that the tips of his braids drag over Takemichi’s exposed skin, close enough that Takemichi can’t look at anything but the dispassionate violet eyes boring into his own, close enough that he could hear it even if the jorōgumo chose to whisper.
“And there is only one use for prey that has lost its entertainment value, isn’t there?”
With how much Takemichi’s heart is hammering in his chest and with how close they are, he’s sure that Ran can hear it, too.
The jorōgumo’s lips twist into a cruel smile. For the smallest of moments, his face seems to blur into something vastly more monstrous than this human veneer – something with too many abyssal eyes and clicking mandibles dripping a clear liquid onto Takemichi’s half-removed yukata.
“Normally I prefer my prey squirming and struggling, but you’ve been such a good little bird… So I’ll let you have my venom instead. Of course, you will still suffer – but it will be over a bit more quickly. How does that sound?”
Leaning back, he smiles brightly like it really is the offer of the century. His features have gone back to normal, but Takemichi struggles to see anything other than a monster.
Behind him, Rindō looks sharply at his brother. “Aniki…?”
“Shush, Rinrin,” Ran admonishes without taking his eyes off Takemichi. “He keeps lying to us – how else should we reward that?”
“I’m not—” Takemichi attempts, but Ran holds a finger to his lips.
“Spare us your words,” he says while his brother remains silent, appearing almost a bit conflicted. Takemichi doesn’t have the luxury of paying much attention to that, however – as Ran seemingly prepares to strike the killing blow, all he can do is screw his eyes shut and pray.
I’m so sorry.
He doesn’t direct the prayer to anyone in particular – he only hopes that it reaches someone, and that they know he truly means it.
If this is the only way he as a human can protect them in return for everything they’ve done for him, he will die without another word leaving his lips.
He only wishes he could have had one more chance to tell them how grateful he is for having met them.
Only after plenty of seconds have passed does Takemichi realise that he’s somehow still not dead, and that this strange circumstance has got to mean something – he reluctantly blinks open an eye only to see Ran staring back at him intently from up close.
He almost closes his eyes again immediately.
The jorōgumo clicks his tongue.
“I’ll admit that it interests me,” he says, tone still measured and polite, but an unsettling glint to his eye, “Not once have you tried to tell us that little fact about your bond to the great Sano-no-kami – not even in an effort to save your life. I wonder why?”
“Do you think Sano-no-kami wouldn’t come to help you – or rather,” Rindō adds, a trace of his earlier grin already back on his face, “to avenge you?”
The silken threads tighten around Takemichi’s limbs, and although the discomfort doesn’t cross over into painful territory yet, he can’t help but tense in anticipation.
“Don’t you think he’d be angry about us touching his favourite little human?”
Rindō’s hand shoots forward and he takes a hold of Takemichi’s hair, tugging his head back by it as if to demonstrate his point. He licks his lips, and Takemichi can only follow the movement with his eyes and shudder. Where Ran is like a poisoned knife concealed underneath luxurious silk, Rindō is the blade worn openly as both ornamentation and a warning. Less refined, maybe; but no less dangerous.
But Takemichi also remembers that small moment of hesitation.
For whatever reason, Rindō is reluctant to kill him.
Takemichi raises his head as much as it is possible in the yōkai’s grip, and meets his eyes.
“I’ll be of no use to you,” he says, stone in his voice.
Rindō blinks at him like he’s briefly taken aback by this human’s sudden lack of trembling and pleading, “Huh?”
“I’m just Hanagaki Takemichi. That’s all there is to it.”
And he refuses to be used as a weapon against the ones he loves.
“I’m sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Ran cuts in while his brother stands there, stunned. He studies Takemichi, and the latter schools his expression, hoping that it won’t show that he actually is scared.
“I suppose then there’d be no harm in killing you after all, if Sano-no-kami doesn’t care.”
“Then,” Takemichi replies, forcing himself to return his gaze, “I suppose you’ll have to find out.”
This marks the first time that he sees Ran’s smile drop.
It only lasts for a brief moment, but the time it takes the jorōgumo to regain his countenance is plenty enough for Takemichi to feel reinforced in his belief that Ran is bluffing, too.
And if both brothers don’t fully intend to kill him, that might just give Takemichi an actual chance to escape this situation alive.
“I have to admit,” Ran says, not quite smiling again but getting close, “that when you stepped into our home, I didn’t expect you could be this bold. There’s more to you than meets the eye – in more ways than one. Isn’t there?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
Ran tuts at him. “It’s time you stopped with that, Takemichi-kun. We both know it isn’t true.”
Takemichi duly shuts up immediately, not liking how quickly Ran’s expression has gone from taken aback back to pleased. The fact doesn’t exactly kindle the small flicker of hope he’s managed to hold onto.
“I like strong-willed humans,” Ran continues. “Your kind is so weak that a strong will is all that’s left to you, right?”
“I’ve heard that some gods are attracted to that kind of thing,” Rindō muses aloud, looking Takemichi up and down in a way that has the latter squirming a little.
“True… but there are limits to the benefits such a strong will provides. Without it, I’m sure he wouldn’t have ended up in our web in the first place.”
Towards Takemichi, Ran adds, “I wonder how you got someone like Sano-no-kami to let you off his leash. I’ve heard that he’s very possessive of his belongings.”
Manjirō is a possessive person; that much is true. But Takemichi doesn’t want to think about the two of them in terms of owner and possession, even when the area between his shoulder blades stings with the imprinted mark as an unwelcome reminder.
Because if Manjirō and the others have made one thing clear, it’s that Takemichi is no longer an object to be owned.
“Oh? That look in your eyes – you don’t like being called that, do you?”
Takemichi wrenches his chin free from Ran’s grip.
“Don’t say that kind of stuff about Manjirō-kun!”
He realizes his mistake the moment he sees the two jorōgumo’s faces light up with delight.
“And you even call him Manjirō-kun!” Rindō coos, looking like the proverbial cat that caught the canary, “Aw, that’s so sweet.”
Ran hums his agreement.
“It’s true though, little bird. Humans are prey. That’s all there is to it – and it’s the same from the view of the gods.”
For a moment, Ran’s poisoned words manage to make doubt rear its ugly head within Takemichi. He was convinced of something very similar for most of his life – he’s lived this kind of mindset; he knows how miserable it is. How easy it is to get trampled if you only consider yourself inferior.
How, if you think of yourself as prey, that’s exactly what you’ll become.
“It’s just how the world works. If you’re weak, you’ll get eaten – or you find someone stronger to protect you,” Rindō says, shrugging.
Then he grins at Takemichi – “Looks like that’s exactly what you managed to do, right?”
But Takemichi knows too much already.
It’s simply impossible for him to become convinced that that’s all he is to Manjirō. There was certainly a time where he might have thought that – but that was before he saw the undeniable fear and then the boundless relief in Manjirō’s eyes that fateful night he revealed his true identity to him.
“Well, it does look like we’ve arrived at a bit of a stalemate here, Takemichi-kun,” Ran tells him, his tone pleasant.
“It would be foolish of us to kill you – but we can’t exactly just let you go, either. You understand, don’t you?”
Takemichi does, but he doesn’t say that.
Instead, he asks, “What are you planning to do then? Keep me here indefinitely?”
Silence follows, in which the brothers exchange a quick glance.
“That’s what it looks like, unfortunately~” Ran then hums, a bit too light-hearted to truly sell the regretfulness of the message.
“Unless,” he looks at Takemichi almost expectantly, “you have a better idea?”
Incited by the horrifying prospect of staying the brothers’ prisoner for an extended amount of time, Takemichi doesn’t care much that what he’s saying is a massive gamble.
“You could let me go,” he insists, the words all but tumbling from his mouth in hurry, “I swear that I won’t lose a word about what happened here!”
The jorōgumo look predictably unconvinced. Before they can outright laugh at him, Takemichi quickly adds, “And if you spare my life, I’ll be indebted to you!”
It is, of course, a spectacularly bad idea to point out to two sadistic and scheming yōkai that they can expect a life debt being owed to them – but Takemichi feels like he doesn’t have many options here.
“Indebted to us,” Ran repeats slowly, like he’s actually considering it.
His brother, meanwhile, starts laughing.
“Do you even know what you’re offering there?”
Takemichi swallows thickly, because he’s well aware that he probably doesn’t. As long as it gets him out of this situation, he’ll be able to figure something out, right?
Right…?
Before he can try to take it back, Ran takes the decision away from him.
“There’s a very appealing sound to that,” the elder jorōgumo admits, “but unfortunately—”
He sighs, shaking his head with an expression that’s probably meant to look regretful.
“—Unfortunately, your life isn’t of much value to us outside of being our… guest.”
Hostage, more like.
“The best insurance for us is for you to stay exactly where you are, Takemichi-kun. Alas, we’ll have to reject your offer.”
Takemichi chews on his bottom lip, frustrated and desperate in equal measures. Beads of sweat run down the back of his neck, adding to his discomfort.
“Sano-no-kami,” he begins, only to halt again and wonder whether this might be an even graver mistake. Just how much of a liability is he being to his loved ones right now?
If only he’d seen the signs… If only he’d managed to keep his mouth shut… If he weren’t so weak—
“Yes? I’m listening,” Ran prompts gently.
Takemichi squeezes his eyes shut so that he won’t have to look at him, at either of them.
“Sano-no-kami would owe you his gratitude for giving me shelter from the storm. That’s all he’d have to know – that you sheltered me here.”
He doesn’t sound especially convincing even to his own ears, which might be because he’s offering something that, technically, he has no right to promise. It should be a tempting offer otherwise, even though Takemichi doesn’t want to think about what these two yōkai would do with a favour owed from a god – but he doesn’t know what else could convince them to let him go.
Unfortunately, jorōgumo are not the kind of yōkai that can easily be tricked, even by promises of power that these two so obviously crave.
“So you’re saying that you’re willing to lie to Sano-no-kami himself? How bold,” Rindō mocks.
“A bold proposal indeed,” his brother agrees, and Takemichi doesn’t have to be looking at him to know the expression on his face, which he can hear in his words, “but not one that could sway us. We prefer things that are more material than a promise you don’t know you can keep.”
He chuckles quietly.
“You have little to offer us but your life, and we’ve already told you that we don’t much care about that.”
But Takemichi is only half listening already. Instead, his mind gets caught on what Ran said before that.
Something… material?
Technically, Takemichi has something like that. Something that could very much be of interest.
“…I have the gifts I was carrying with me.”
The moment Takemichi speaks it, he can practically sense the shift in the room.
The brothers still for a moment – just a fraction of a second, but it’s noticeable enough to have his hope stirring again.
Ran looks at him, twirling one of his braids around his finger in contemplation.
“You want to trade the enchanted gifts Sano-no-kami gave you for your life and your freedom…? Is that what I’m hearing?”
Takemichi straightens, as much as it’s possible for him currently. “Yes.”
It occurs to him that he still holds one card that only he knows about: The jorōgumo still seem unaware of the fact that Manjirō isn’t the only kami he’s involved with.
One possible advantage that he has… but only if he manages to escape.
“If you let me go, I’ll let you keep everything I had on me. And what I said earlier obviously still stands, too. Sano-no-kami won’t hear anything from me.”
After another moment of silence, a small smile twitches at the corners of Ran’s mouth. Takemichi might be imagining it, but it doesn’t look as sardonic as his earlier ones.
Rindō doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are glued to Takemichi like he’s taking in and analysing every miniscule twitch.
“Of course you know that we could simply take your things and keep you as well.”
“…Yeah.”
“But you’re expecting us to agree to these terms regardless?”
Takemichi holds Ran’s gaze.
“I know as well as you do that gifted magic only works for its rightful owner. As it is right now, those things won’t be of any use to you.”
Ran blinks at him – then his smile widens.
“Oh! So you aren’t completely ignorant. How inconvenient.”
But he does sound more delighted than annoyed.
Takemichi doesn’t answer, deciding to wait for what Ran will say next. He feels a little sense of grim satisfaction – Takashi was the one who told him about the particularities of his and the others’ enchanted gifts. It’s apparently a common safety measure meant to prevent such magic from falling into hands that aren’t meant to hold it, and Takemichi is fortunate that he knows about it.
“As for your offer… I’ll be honest; there’s really only one of your things that we’re interested in.”
Ran throws a glance in his brother’s direction, and Takemichi watches, his stomach twisting a little, as Rindō holds up Manjirō’s fox-shaped pendant. Of all the things, of course it would be that one.
“Are you willing to part with this, Takemichi-kun?”
Pushing aside the feeling of loss and regret, Takemichi nods.
“So we have a deal?”
He doesn’t quite manage to keep that little spark of hope from showing in his voice, but he doubts it matters much at this point.
“Almost,” Ran says, drawing Takemichi’s wary glance back to him.
“I have one additional condition.”
“...And what is that condition?”
Ran gives him an indulgent smile.
“That even after we free you from these webs, you’ll stay the rest of the night in our home. Tomorrow, you may leave. But until then you will remain our guest.”
“You want me to what?!” Takemichi exclaims incredulously, almost thinking that he misheard. This guy can’t possibly believe that he’ll stay here any longer than absolutely necessary… right?
“Don’t look at me like that, little bird. It’s only for your own benefit.”
Ran falls silent, letting everyone in the room listen to the furious storm still howling outside the walls, tearing at the trees’ branches and rattling the roof shingles.
Oh. Right.
The thing that got Takemichi into this whole mess in the first place. The brothers have been very successful in making him forget about that particular danger, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone.
Unfortunately, Ran is at least somewhat right. Resuming his travels before the storm subsides might just spell another kind of violent death for Takemichi.
Which doesn’t mean that he wants to stay the rest of the night at the ryokan in the company of the two sadistic jorōgumo, but it looks like he doesn’t have much of a choice if he actually wants to escape with his life intact.
How ironic.
“…Fine,” he relents eventually, wary of the yōkai’s intentions. Surely they must be planning something – and Ran’s pleased expression looks like it intends to confirm Takemichi’s fears.
“Wonderful! We have a deal, then.”
Ran claps his hands together in a way that just looks inappropriately cheerful for their situation.
“All right… Rindō, let him down.”
Takemichi goes rigid on instinct when Rindō once again reaches for the silken threads ensnaring his limbs.
“Relax,” the latter has the gall to snicker, as if he hadn’t previously given Takemichi ample reason to be wary of this kind of action.
A quick movement, too quick to react to – and Takemichi suddenly drops, a startled scream leaping from his mouth as the webs give way and he plummets towards the floor.
But instead of said floor, what breaks his fall are two muscular arms catching his weight effortlessly.
“Whoops.”
Rindō’s wolfish grin down at him makes it very clear that this wasn’t a mishap at all.
He sets Takemichi down on the floor, only for the latter’s knees to buckle under his weight – whether from disuse or fear isn’t certain, but Takemichi grits his teeth as both brothers laugh at the pathetic display.
“Still tired, are you?” Ran coos, patting his head. He actually has to lean down a little to do it thanks to how much taller he is in his half-spider form – the height difference is a lot more dramatic with Takemichi now on ground level.
“We’ll escort you back to your room. And don’t worry, we won’t disturb your sleep again.”
Takemichi strains not to look at the bones he’s stepping across on his way to the door. His hands are trembling as much as his legs, and he feels like he’s either going to crumble to the ground or snap from all the tension in his body.
He’s still considering trying his luck with the storm outside instead as the brothers accompany him back to the guest room that feels way less inviting now than it did a few hours prior, even if Takemichi is exhausted and a futon is way preferable to hanging suspended in a spider web.
At the edges of his vision, the jorōgumo’s forms shift as they take on their human guises again.
“We intend to keep our word, Takemichi-kun.”
Ran sounds every bit like the polite host again.
“I hope you’ll keep yours, too.”
Takemichi refuses to look at him and simply nods, staring at the disorderly pile of his clothes on the floor that has clearly been rifled through. Atop it sits a golden orb-weaver spider that skitters away and takes up position in a corner of the room as Takemichi approaches. He spots several others, too, in different places on the walls and ceiling.
“Our little servants will keep an eye on you… just so that nothing happens, of course.”
“Of course,” Takemichi mutters, eyeing the spiders balefully. That at least explained why he kept seeing so many of them – in hindsight, it was the first hint that could have clued him in to the true nature of his hosts.
Hindsight rarely helps, though.
“Get some rest,” comes Rindō’s very helpful suggestion, “You’ll probably need it.”
Again Takemichi feels no need to look at his face to know what his expression looks like.
When the brothers finally take their leave, sliding the door closed behind them, Takemichi still hears them laughing in the hallway on the other side.
His fingernails dig into his palms, hands trembling by his sides.
It doesn’t feel like a victory.
He’s sure sleep will elude him – how could anyone expect him to sleep peacefully under these circumstances? – but he shelters underneath the covers regardless for a lack of anything better to do.
It’s almost like he can feel the gazes of the Haitanis’ spider minions on him; and with that, the eyes of the jorōgumo themselves.
Even though Takemichi is no longer literally caught in their web, they still have him firmly within their grasp. Who knows whether they’ll actually let him leave.
He extinguishes the single lantern that the brothers left with him, and stares up at the dark ceiling.
The silence inside makes the storm seem even louder. Rain drums heavily on the roof, and somewhere in the distance Takemichi hears a terrible groaning of breaking wood as a tree collapses under the violent winds.
His emotional state, if he’s being honest, isn’t faring much better than that tree.
He’s cold and he’s shivering even under his blanket, and despite the myriad eyes he knows are watching him, he also feels more lonely than ever before.
He doesn’t want to fall asleep, but his leaden tiredness doesn’t care about his fear of making himself so vulnerable again – more vulnerable than he as a regular human already is, anyway.
At some point late into the night his exhaustion, both physical and emotional, finally does take its toll, and without actively noticing it, he falls asleep.