Interlude: Kurama (Patreon)

Interlude: Kurama

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Shaderic

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Knowledge bows to experience, yet even experience falters before wisdom.

Those were mother’s words of advice in her latest letter, when I’d inquired of her what I could do to break past the shell of the man known as Hikigaya Hachiman. 

It was a pleasant way to tell me “keep trying, until you succeed” without the slightest care for me in the slightest. If it is for the sake of ensuring Kindred superiority over mankind, then nobility, pride, and grace mean nothing. 

Should a single beautiful woman not be enough, gather more to throw upon your mark. 

If your clothes are not arousing, then deign to wear less or nothing, and be a wanton creature of lust. 

Incapable of arousing a man, due to him experiencing the horrors of war and having lost countless friends?

Drug him, take him, and ensure his dependence upon you for succor and comfort forever. 

Ever since I told her of Hachiman’s poorly-hidden pain, she has been sending vial after vial of aphrodisiacs my way in prim, proper crystal bottles that denoted their expensive make. Thankfully, I had more than a few friends to pass them onto as gifts and favors, so they might spice up their nights, otherwise I would’ve had to dispose of the luxuries in a very wasteful manner. 

Since, even though I’m my mother’s daughter, there’s certain lines that ought not be crossed. 

Perhaps, I would use the lust-inducing drafts to entice Hachiman, if he were some boorish, but pride-addled individual who wished for glory like mother envisioned. I would then have one of my Kunoichi be his bride, whisk him away, and take control of the Ylstu and hold it against the Empire’s depraved skinners, scalpers, and scavengers. Such a man would be merely bringing harm to the coalition that the Demon Lord created, by sullying her reputation, and bringing discord amongst the factions who wished to oppose her and those who supported her. 

However, by every possible measure, Hachiman was not the man mother thought he was, or even the man Roseanne believed he was. True, while their generalizations held some truth, given their intellect and cunning, they did not speak with him every day, look upon his works and efforts, and watch him bring from dirt a town that would surely rival the capital in a single generation. 

The talent that Roseanne wished to utilize, and Mother merely scoffed at, was greater than both imagined. Not only could he lead soldiers, but he could discipline feral monsters, and persuade merchants. His knowledge, that Roseanne believed could be gleamed from a continuous stream of reports and a very, very talented secretary, is in fact a vast ocean contained by a foundation most scholars would be flabbergasted by and which whole libraries would struggle to contain. And, finally, the pain and hurt mother wished for me to take advantage of and Roseanne feared, was in fact being ever-so-slowly being brought low by Hachiman himself. 

He might not acknowledge it himself, but his adjutant Ur confirmed it, when I inquired it of her. 

Having been with him for years, she has seen him change from a young, talented man into a being dedicated only to vengeance, but now that young, talented man is returning piece by piece. The habits she’d seen him discard, as he sent more and more lives to die in his stead, are returning. 

Bits and pieces of the world he’d come from, the habits and cultures of his people, were slowly surfacing within him. 

His care for his appearance has become immaculate, whereas men from other worlds and my own care not. The way he adheres to a schedule of work, rest, and sleep, mindful of daily necessities, is orderly and precise. Finally, even though his tongue is sharpened and poisoned, he treats every Kindred in his vicinity as a woman, instead of a monster, or a toy to sate himself upon until he fell asleep. 

While it is all being done beneath the guise of destroying the Empire on the surface, and that goal is surely still being pursued, beneath all that hate and rage is a mind determined to survive. Though he treads his current path with the intent of making the Empire lose without any care for himself, that same path holds the chance to ensure that he may find himself victorious as well. 

And, I cannot help but want to walk that path to see if he would succeed in a goal which he didn’t even permit himself to know. 

Even while knowing, as I watched and waited, that I’ll only become more and more hopelessly interested in him. 

Hikigaya Hachiman, the so-called Empire’s Reckoning, will you use me to destroy the Empire?

Or, use me to help yourself?

Either way, I must admit a minor defeat, because instead of playing my game, we’re both playing yours.

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Every day in Hikigaya Hachiman’s life is a concentrated effort in elegance. The moment the clock struck six, everyone must be awake, and in an hour’s time assembled at the dining room for the morning meal. An hour is spent on reports and assigning new or old duties, while eating a meal, and then the whole affair breaks apart as everyone pursues their objectives and goals for an entire day, with more major projects kept in mind. 

Every room in the household either has mechanical clock, or an hourglass which rotated and reset itself upon a numbered dial. The rest of the town knew of the time via a bell that rang every hour starting from dawn. Productivity ruled as the true mistress of Ylstu, looming over the hearts and minds of all within the town, until the day sharply ended and sixteen hours of recreation and rest were granted at the day’s end. Every admission into a workplace, every break, and every leaving of the workplace is recorded, so that all could be paid their due, or punished for their lack of contribution. 

Many would rebel against the differences enforced, if not for the various accommodations he offered to those who would do as he said. While he compares his work to the capital, or the various castles that offered hospitality to the Demon Lord, and it is wanting in comparison to those places of power… his merely months-old town eclipsed the majority of villages in which most Kindred lived. Everyone had their own rooms, with communal areas to contribute to and indulge in, and the streets were clean, food always available, and any form of violence resulting in grievous reprisal.

He addresses his citizens, speaks of the town’s goals, and harnesses their minds and hearts to have faith not only in him, but the land around them, and the town that they build with their own hands. Ladies of power everywhere would look upon the town’s citizenry, of their composition of Undead, former ferals, merchants, beasts, and other monsters, and be envious of their unity beneath a singular banner propped up by one man. 

Despite all my training and education, the only skills I could contribute to his grand design was outside of it.

A job normally relegated to trusted aids, or mere messengers, became my unbecoming duty. The eldest, heiress of an entire province, of an influential Kindred, became nothing more than an idle messenger. Though I was granted much in accordance to my perceived station, every gift given to me was one intended to make Hachiman’s life sweeter, and make his mind wonder about women who would be better suited for the clothes that would be poor upon my body. Though I certainly gained influence, providing my insight to the Demon Lord about the unsaid advances and tactics employed by Hachiman, Tanis perceived just as much as I and was better trusted than myself. 

Then, without warning, he elevated my role. 

After a mere week relegated into near-nothingness, he allocated a portion of funds to my person for the sake of giving gifts in return, creating connections, and espousing his province’s grandeur. That was the sole caveat of the funds. That the gifts given, the words exchanged, and meetings made would all be for the sake of Ylstu and his works. Mother called a trivial vocation. No more work than that of a bard, a strumpet strumming a lute and dancing for the joys of the public, but when letters from those whom I visited started reaching her too… she went silent. 

Because, I went to those on the frontier of the Empire, who surrounded Ylstu and were normally ignored by the greater powers surrounding the capital. To be visited by someone of my standing regularly, personally, and given gifts was a great honor. Even if those meetings were exchanges of food, meals, and discussions of our mutual circumstances, each one gave Ylstu more and more influence and attention. More merchants came forth, ready to purchase what their ladies craved and would spend much for, and those bereft of future went to seek out lives in a town praised by their own leaders. 

A deluge of bodies and wealth to which Hachiman already had the answer to. 

More warehouses and places to sell from went for auction. More “dormitories” established for workers who cleared out land, farmed, or created more “infrastructure” for his holdings. Soldiers for his inevitable war trained in the mornings, marched, and cleared forests, while building bridges and forts. Clerks kept track of it all, pouring over daily reports, and speaking to the Amazons when anything strange occurred. 

Billboards arose, and when they went unused by the masses, classes to teach how to read and write were offered by harpies who could flit-to-and-fro and also cheerfully sing. Paper came from pulp, first only for the town, and then the surroundings. Shorty after, a printing press to distribute books, create manuals and diagrams, and simple stories. Upon finding that few could read, he decided that he’d flood the world with books and written instruction, by making a system that required no mage to transfer information from a filled book to a blank one.

Everything was hastening. Periods of innovation were followed by changes to which no one could disagree, thus Ylstu grew and grew. 

Mother, the Demon Lord, and I can only watch and wait, as his plans unfolded, so that the entire world would contribute towards the clockwork machines that was his vengeance. 

To which I and my retinue have become a simple, but essential piece. 

...

Sayuri bowed to me, as I walked into one of the outposts Hachiman had established for his patrols. The Kunoichi unassigned to the manor took well to the various outposts, as they were all made to be well-hidden within the forest. Camouflaged, wooden structures that looked over trails and roads, they may as well have been second homes for my scouts and assassins, even thought Hachiman built them for his native auxiliaries. 

But that’s enough ruminating in my inadequacies, especially when my Kunoichi have captured a male Adventurer of the Empire alive. He was bound against a post, his armor heavy upon his slack, chained form, while the Kunoichi that captured him stayed, though utterly uninterested. Sayuri was much the same, while I felt a lack of… need to partake in him, too. He was powerful, and even if a poor comparison to even the lowliest of the Amazons, he was surely stronger than Hachiman. 

Yet, I felt no urge to take him and nor did my retinue.

Strange, but not an unwelcome discovery. The Kunoichi pleased him, as did Sayuri, if only because of their martial prowess, so I welcomed them in their choice to stand beside me. 

And, perhaps, beside me on the same bed.

For now, however, it is time to fulfill the duty given to me. 

With a touch upon the unconscious Adventurer’s head, I peered into his dreams, desires, and fantasies as if they were my own. The man was typical. The desire for power, women, and glory, as one would expect of any who ventured from the Empire’s hovels to slay monsters for gold. At a mere glance, Hachiman held the interest more strongly, even before he decided to beautify himself. The blonde, handsome creature with the sole interest to kill for the sake of glory lacked… a depth that I never knew I or others desired. Delving deeper into him felt disgusting, as his memories came forth surrounded by days spent idly drinking or indulging in human women, until I could barely stand to find the critical memory I needed.

The critical information a renowned scout and trailblazer would be given by the military of the Empire, who intended to invade Ylstu. Words, sights, and sound all came with the clarity one would expect of a man of standing, skill, and pride in his duty as a renowned scout. The moment I found it, I stored it away in a little vial of mana, and gave to Sayuri. Then, came the task of reconstructing the memory, so that he could be returned to where he was found, heavily injured, but alive after gathering all the information that he wished… followed and shadowed by my Kunoichi the entire time, as to verify the information he gives, and the decisions made by the Empire’s officers. 

That the third pass would be the one through which the Empire’s armies will pass.

“Could it be a ruse, Sayuri?” I questioned by retainer. Having been a warrior before her rebirth, her experience in warfare is something to be valued. I knew nearly nothing about how armies ought to travel and move through mountains, while she lived her entire life in war after war, until magic itself saw fit to turn her into Kindred after her passing. “Would you use the third pass, yourself?”

“Depending on the size of my army, and my objective, I would assault Ylstu through the third pass if my aim was to destroy it and seize it, as it is the largest and most-accessible pass.” Sayuri’s reply was firm, as she nodded and gripped the sword at her side, while watching me mount the undead stead she’d summoned. She joined me on horseback, after a passing glance at our surroundings. There was naught but trees in every direction, besides atop the nearby road. “However, if my aim is to kill Hikigaya Hachiman and destroy his works, due to being a thorn in my side, I would create a smaller force. One that would fall and break before his defenses, but cause widespread destruction in return for their lives.”

The answer gave me pause, especially with the news Hachiman unveiled himself to the entirety of the Kindred.

The latest depravity of the Empire is their enslavement of their own citizenry as shock troops.

“Then, it’s best that we mention that to Hachiman.”

“Even if you will fight against his wish to, in his own words, “bury the Empire beneath a mountain,” Kurama-sama?” 

“Hm? Of course. Would you not?” 

At my question, Sayuri simply laughed and looked ahead. 

“No. I would not, but that is because I have seen his worth as a general… while you, Kurama-sama, are simply, utterly charmed.”

“And, you are not, when you can quote his words from heart?”

“Well said, my friend.”