As Akihiko slid open the shoji screen a couple of hours later, he immediately noticed something was off. The wood around the barrier bore fresh scratches, as if clawed in a fit of frustration. Kaito sat rigidly on a low cushion near the broken tea table, his posture stiff and unnatural, betraying a mix of fear and tension. His eyes darted up to meet Akihiko’s, wide with a mixture of guilt and panic, before quickly shifting away. But what truly caught Akihiko’s attention was the ornate silk brocade obi wrapped haphazardly around Kaito’s face, its luxurious fabric marred by a large, dark splotch.
Akihiko’s eyes narrowed as he approached, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. He knelt beside Kaito, his gaze fixed on the makeshift bandage. “You used a brocade obi as a bandage? Why? That was new! Now there’s a big bloody splotch—what were you thinking, Kaito? I can’t wear it again; Saito will smell it!” As he was unwinding the obi from Kaito’s face uncovering the presumably clotted claw marks underneath the illusion, his voice, edged with frustration and disbelief, cut through the charged silence as he struggled to understand Kaito’s panicked actions.
Akihiko grunted feeling angry, crossed his arms and sat down cross legged. His eyes flicked upwards to Kaito’s cheek. I now feel bad about overreacting and harming my brother. But.. Shuffling towards Kaito, he scratched the bristles on his head, hesitating while asking “Could you take the mask off? I want to help you with the wound and see your real face. I am sorry for what I did.”
Kaito looked at him searchingly. “And…?”
“And what?”
“And are you sorry for leaving me in here for 3 hours?”
Akihiko sighed fondly, “And for leaving you in here for 3 hours”
Kaito’s lips curved into a faint, almost defiant smile. “The obi was the closest thing I could find,” he replied, his tone light but tinged with a touch of pettiness. “Not exactly comfortable, though. Would you rather like blood on the new tatami instead? I will take of the mask but only on one condition, do not hurt me, if you do not like what you see”
As the mask fell away, revealing Kaito's true face, Akihiko's initial tension melted into a mixture of relief and understanding. Despite the human appearance staring back at him, Akihiko could see beyond it. The nervous snarl, the restless movements, the instinctual twitch of Kaito's fingers—all of it was still distinctly him. WHile he saw all of it before, it was still a shock to see it. His nose was narrow, slightly turned up with much smaller nostrils than Akihiko was accustomed to. Kaito’s mouth opened to reveal short, blunt teeth, a stark contrast to the elongated tusks Akihiko was familiar with. The teeth were so small, each less than the size of a fingernail, making Kaito’s snarl seem almost cute. The long, black hair that cascaded from his head was strikingly beautiful, silk-like in its sheen. Yet, as Kaito bared his teeth in nervousness, Akihiko noticed a dark bead of blood slip from the scabbing wounds on his cheek, marring the ghostly pallor of his skin. Akihiko’s sharp eyes caught the small rivelet of blood that was rolling through dried crust of blood on Kaito’s cheek, the dark red stark against the pale skin.. Almost reflexively, he reached out, his fingers brushing gently against Kaito’s cheek. With a swift, he rubbed the blood away, his touch lingering longer than necessary.
As his hand moved away from Kaito's face, Akihiko, almost unconsciously, brought his fingers to his lips. His tongue darted out to taste the blood that had transferred onto his skin. The moment the coppery tang hit his tongue, his senses awakened. A burst of rich, savoury flavour flooded his mouth, more intense than anything he had tasted in a long time. It was as if the taste ignited something deep within him—a primal hunger he had not acknowledged until now.
A startled thought pierced through his mind, jolting him back to reality. Akihiko's eyes widened in shock as he realised what he was doing. So good. The words echoed in his mind, a troubling mix of awe and horror. The guards weren’t exaggerating when they spoke of the allure of human blood—it was, disturbingly, as delicious as they had claimed. No wonder they spoke of it like this. How can I get more?
For a brief, terrifying moment, Akihiko allowed himself to indulge in the flavour. The blood had a warmth and depth to it, a complexity that both fascinated and unnerved him. The way it lingered on his palate, refusing to fade, was both intoxicating and alarming. But as quickly as the thought came, he forced it away, pushing down the unsettling desire that had surfaced. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of guilt and fascination swirling within him. What was he doing?
Akihiko leaned in, eyes wide with fascination. He couldn’t resist; his fingers moved almost of their own accord, gently touching Kaito’s now-exposed skin carefully avoiding his wound, feeling the faint traces of where the mask had altered him over the years. Akihiko's curiosity got the better of him as he poked and prodded at the slight upturned end of Kaito's nose, the unexpected coarseness of the hair along his jawline, and the subtle remnants of the boar-like features that had begun to creep into Kaito’s natural form. "It’s incredible," Akihiko murmured, his fingers tracing the edges of Kaito’s altered skin, both in awe and concern at the mask's lingering effects. I dont think this is normal for a human. What has that mask done to you? Shaking away these thoughts he said "You're still Kaito, no matter what form you take, you're still the same person. Let's get you cleaned up," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "And next time, let's avoid ruining any more brocade." And maybe next time, I’ll have better control, Akihiko silently vowed, a promise more to himself than to Kaito.—
Later that night, longing on the floor, Akihiko was mustering up the courage to say something. Rolling over and looking at kaito’s badly wrapped face, with the cheek slathered with yarrow. The white fabric, now stained with black and a green hue was solidly tied under the jaw and crossed around the forehead of Kaito’s head to absurdly knot just above his left ear like a weird flower.
Akihiko tentatively whispered “Hey.. Kaito… Kaito!” Blurry murmuring what angrily.
Looking at the metal ball in the corner. Akihiko asked hey can i put it on?
But why?Akihiko nodded, though his curiosity outweighed his caution. “I want to understand it, understand you.” He hesitated for a moment longer, then slowly brought the mask up to his face, fitting it over his features.
The change was immediate and disorienting. Akihiko felt a strange, tingling sensation spread across his skin, as if the mask were fusing with him. His vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, everything looked... different.
The first thing Akihiko noticed was the sharpness of his vision. Colours were more vivid, more intense than he had ever seen them before. The room seemed to have an extra depth to it, every detail crisp and clear, as if he were seeing the world through new eyes. He could see the intricate patterns in the wood grain of the floor, the fine threads in the fabric of Kaito’s kimono, the individual strands of hair on Kaito’s head.
But there was something more—something that caught Akihiko off guard. There was a colour, a hue that he had never seen before. It was something entirely new, something indescribable. Akihiko stared at it, fascinated and bewildered, trying to comprehend this strange, new perception. While he knew it was Kaito’s blood, it was not the dark green/black he knew but now a deeply violent colour.
Yet, as his vision sharpened, his other senses dulled. His hearing became less acute, the sounds of the room muted and distant. The scents that had once filled the air were now faint, almost non-existent. It was as if his other senses had been sacrificed in exchange for this heightened visual clarity.
Akihiko reached up to touch his face, and that was when he felt it—the difference in his features. His jaw was in a different position, his teeth smaller and less sharp. His tusks, the prominent features of his yokai form, were gone. His nose felt strange, unfamiliar, and his mouth... it was wrong. Everything about his face was wrong. Regarding the rest of his body,
Panic welled up inside him as he turned to Kaito, who was watching him with wide, anxious eyes. “Kaito,” Akihiko whispered, his voice trembling. “What... what do I look like?”
Kaito hesitated, clearly unsure of how to respond. “You look... human,” he finally said, his voice soft.
Akihiko’s heart pounded in his chest as he reached for the mask, tearing it off his face. The moment the mask was removed, the world returned to normal—colours dimmed, his hearing and sense of smell returned, and his face felt familiar once more. He let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as he stared at the ball of metal in his lap.
Kaito moved closer, his expression filled with concern. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice gentle.
Akihiko nodded slowly, though he was still shaken by the experience. “I... I didn’t expect that,” he admitted. “It was... overwhelming.”
Kaito placed a hand on Akihiko’s shoulder, offering a comforting presence. “You don’t have to use it again,” he said quietly. “It’s dangerous to lose yourself in something like that.”
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