The hours following the battle were an exercise in chaos. There were deaths to be mourned, lives to be celebrated, and much cleanup that needed to be done. In the midst of it all, images from Beth Billingsly’s news report had leaked to something Kisaki’s friends called the internet. This resulted in multiple news teams converging upon the once quiet town, making the tasks which needed to be performed that much more difficult.

The police wanted to speak at length to the heroes of the Battle of the Beasts, as it was being touted. A strange name, Kisaki considered, as she was no beast. Neither were youkai, if one were to be truly honest about it.

The problem was the dozens of reporters who wanted to interview her and her friends.

The number of outsiders converging upon the tiny police station proved to be more than their remaining forces could handle. Outside help was being sought. In the meantime, the acting chief – taking pity on Kisaki and her friends – had sent them to Bob’s, a small diner in the middle of town. The owner, a volunteer in the town’s fire department, agreed to put out the closed sign to allow them a safe haven as well as fix them some lunch. In return, Stephen had pledged that none of them would try to leave town until such time as this matter was settled, something driven home by the acting captain reminding him that he knew his parents.

Stephen was currently in the bathroom. Shitoro had joined him, saying that he, too, needed a bath. Stephen had tried to dissuade him of that notion, but the little tiger demon dismissed his opinion on the subject as the ramblings of a foolish human.

“So what do you think of him?”

Kisaki looked up at Tamiko from where she’d been sipping her milkshake. Whatever the name, she found it delightful. If they had drinks such as these in the celestial palace, she might have never sought to leave. “Shitoro?”

“No,” Tamiko said, lowering her voice. “Steve.”

Kisaki picked up a French fry and dipped it in a sauce known as ketchup before taking a bite, savoring the dichotomy of salty and sweet on her tongue. “I think Stephen acted very bravely today. He’s far more courageous than he believes. If only he understood that, he would have certainly dealt with Robbie long ago.”

“That isn’t quite what I meant.” Tamiko leaned in closer and lowered her voice even further. Her cheeks had turned pink again, making Kisaki wonder if there was some temperature differential that she was unable to sense. When her friend spoke again, it was in Japanese. “I meant, do you think he’s cute?”

“Why have you switched languages?”

“Because I don’t want him overhearing us, that’s why.”

“Who?”

“Stephen, of course. Now what do you think of him? Cute or not?”

“Cute? As in like a small furry animal?”

“As in handsome.”

“Ah!” Kisaki brightened as she’d found herself considering the same thing. She remembered how her father looked in the photos and in the vision she had of him. There was something appealing about his appearance. He had a brave, rugged manner about him, not unlike the warriors she used to enjoy reading about. He would not have looked out of place wearing armor and wielding a sword.

Though she would never dare pretend to understand her mother’s thoughts on such a matter, she could understand how one could have fallen for such a man. Stephen was different, yet not in a bad way. Though he shared some of his great-grandfather’s features, they were softer on him, less severe. He looked more the scholar than a warrior, although Kisaki had seen the fire in his eyes when he’d wielded his shotgun.

Despite her fascination with warriors of the past, she found that combination – his gentle nature mixed with his bravery – surprisingly appealing.

“I have given that some thought, and I do believe he is handsome indeed. Mind you, I have little to base that on since the vast majority of my interactions over the course of my life have been with either my mother or Shitoro. However, I cannot help but look at him and feel an odd warmth inside me.”

“In a sisterly way, though, right?”

“Sisterly? He’s not my sister and I am not his. I do not have a sister, so far as I’m aware, so I don’t know how I might feel toward one.”

“Well, then maybe how you feel about your mother?”

Kisaki considered that. She had always respected her mother, but beneath that respect had been an unpleasant veneer that she tried not to dwell upon. But the last few days had been an awakening for her, one which had forced her to expand her horizons considerably. She now understood those feelings for what they had been: resentment. She had felt like a caged animal, one that was now free. However, that resentment had since been tempered by what Shitoro had told her.

She’d thought her mother’s actions to be ... cruel wasn’t the word. After all, Kisaki had wanted for nothing. Mystifying, infuriating perhaps? All of it added up to a cornucopia of feelings. But she now knew these things had been done to keep her safe.

She just wished that she’d been told a long time ago. If so, things might have turned out differently. She might not be sitting here eating French fries while the town around her dealt with the fallout from a deadly battle.

But then, she would have never met Tamiko and Stephen either. She might not have ever realized there was more to her than long hours of boring study. She might never have learned about her father.

“Cat got your tongue?” Tamiko asked.

“Hmm? No. Shitoro is still elsewhere, presumably bathing.”

“It’s an American phrase, I think. It means you were being quiet.”

“My apologies. I was lost in thought. There’s been so many new developments in my life and so quickly that it’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Believe me, I understand.” Tamiko took a long pull on her soda. “I figured today would be spent doing more paperwork for my dad. I definitely didn’t imagine I’d be taking an unexpected holiday to fight monsters in Pennsylvania.”

Kisaki nodded. She understood, especially since she was the cause for Tamiko’s unexpected travels. “To answer your question, no. I do not consider him to be like my mother. In fact, I believe it is quite different.”

“You don’t like him, do you?”

“Of course I like him.”

“I mean like him.” Kisaki shrugged, not understanding, so Tamiko clarified. “I mean, like a boyfriend.”

“You mean as a mate?”

“Um, maybe not quite that far, but yeah, sort of.”

Kisaki considered this for a few moments, mindful that their companions would most likely be returning shortly. She suddenly realized she didn’t want them overhearing this conversation either, especially Stephen. She didn’t fully understand why but suspected it might have to do with what Tamiko was asking her. Finally, she said, “He does appear to have several desirable qualities.”

“Gross!”

“You find him gross?”

“No. I mean, you guys. You’re his great-aunt.”

“So?”

“So that would almost be like you marrying your brother.”

“But he is not my brother,” Kisaki pointed out. “Besides, such pairings are quite common among youkai. Divine blood mixes best with blood of a similar caliber, or so I have been taught in my studies.”

“That’s just ... wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“So you’re saying you do not find Stephen desirable as a mate?”

“No! I... it’s just...” Tamiko’s face turned bright red as she tried to sputter out an answer.

Kisaki was new to this, but some instinct told her that her friend did indeed find Stephen desirable as a mate, or boyfriend, as she put it. She didn’t expect to feel anything negative at this revelation but was surprised when she did. It wasn’t entirely dissimilar to how she’d felt when she saw her servants free to come and go while she was not.

It was an unwelcome feeling. After all, Tamiko was her friend. But it was a feeling that persisted nevertheless, despite being unwelcome. That Tamiko had stopped talking made her wonder if she was feeling the same thing.

After several tense moments of silence, Tamiko said, “This is silly.”

“Yes,” Kisaki replied with a smile. “Definitely silly.”

“I mean, we just met him. I have to get back to Ishigachi and you need to ... oh, I’m sorry.” She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I forgot what’s waiting for you.”

“It’s all right. You are correct.” She turned and looked out the window. The street beyond was quiet, this section of town being relatively untouched by the battle. “My outing to Earth has caused far more chaos than I ever intended, but it has also given me memories which I will always cherish.” She reached over and took Tamiko’s hand.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Me too.”

“Hey, what are you guys talking about?” Stephen asked, walking back. He took a seat next to Tamiko. Kisaki felt a quick stab of jealousy but pushed it back down. “Not talking about me, are you?”

“What?!” Tamiko replied, quickly switching back to English. “I mean, of course not. No, we weren’t talking about you, were we, Kisaki?”

“But you said ... ow!” Tamiko kicked her under the table. She was about to question why, but then she saw the pleading look on her friend’s face and understood. “I meant, no. You are not a topic worthy of conversation.”

“Okay then,” Stephen replied, looking confused for a moment before reaching for his own drink.

“Where’s Shitoro?”

Stephen shook his head. “Your cat is a moron.”

“He’s not my cat. And why would you say that?”

“You’ll see.” Stephen would say no more on the subject, instead digging into his cheeseburger.

After several more minutes, they heard the padding of small feet and turned to see Shitoro returning to join them. He’d earlier changed back into his tiger form so as to attract as little attention as possible, although Stephen had argued there wasn’t much point since he kept talking.

Kisaki noted that his fur was wet.

“Ah, much better. So refreshing after being ignobly tossed into refuse.” He climbed up onto the seat next to Kisaki and began pawing at a plate of chicken that had been left for him. “I simply do not understand why you gave me such grief in there, human. My hygiene is no concern of yours.”

“It’s because that was a urinal, not a shower stall, idiot.”

Kisaki didn’t know what a urinal was, but Tamiko immediately broke down into laughter. “He did not!”

“Oh yeah. He did,” Stephen confirmed. “You can’t make this shit up.”

Kisaki looked down at the youkai. “Shitoro?”

“I, for one, do not see what the fuss is about,” he replied. “It was perfectly sized for me and, though it cannot compare to the opulent baths of the celestial palace, the cascade of water upon my fur was quite enjoyable, as was the pleasant smelling cylindrical object at the bottom. Tell me, was that some sort of bath oil?”

“Not quite,” Stephen replied, barely holding in his own laughter.

Tamiko, for her part, had lost it. Tears streamed down her face.

Kisaki looked at the two of them. “Is there something here I don’t understand?”

“Don’t ask,” Stephen said. Then, after a moment, added, “I’ll tell you all about men’s rooms later.”

“Oh, that should be fun,” Tamiko replied, still snickering. “Until then, you might want to avoid petting him.”

“I am not a cat,” Shitoro snapped, spearing another piece of chicken with a claw. “I require no petting, grooming, or scratching beneath my chin ... although that latter can be enjoyable under the correct circumstances.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Once Stephen and Tamiko got themselves back under control, the discussion turned to the battle they’d just fought and its consequences.

“What do you think they’ll do with Crag?”

“Depends who gets him,” Stephen said. “If it’s scientists, they’ll dissect him. If it’s rednecks, they’ll throw him in a freezer and charge people ten bucks to look at him.”

“A most inglorious fate for a dishonorable foe,” Shitoro replied bitterly. “However, there is potential for complications.”

“How so?” Tamiko asked.

“The world has changed considerably, and not just in the years since the edict against travel here was laid down,” Shitoro explained. “The last time the daimao were active in the world of man was approximately three hundred of your years ago. At that point, the world was just beginning to change, although we did not suspect how much. Youkai and humans still lived side by side, though. It was not uncommon for them to encounter one another.”

Tamiko nodded. “My father used to read me stories about feudal Japan when I was a little girl. It seemed like running into demons was about as common as walking to the local noodle shop.”

“An oversimplification, but not entirely incorrect,” Shitoro replied. “I’m willing to speculate that those stories are probably based more on fact than you know. But that changed. While the daimao slept, the world evolved even more, far more so than those of us tending to the day-to-day matters of the celestial palace realized.”

“But before the edict, weren’t you free to travel to Earth as you pleased?” Kisaki asked.

“Yes, but that did not mean many of us did. Earth has always been a savage place. Some of demonkind revel in that, but many of us want nothing more than a quiet existence. Not all of us are warriors, nor do we aspire to be. You tell me. If given the choice between safety, fine food, and a comfortable life versus willingly stepping foot onto a world where you could be hunted by anything – human or not – which would you choose?”

“Makes sense,” Stephen said after a beat.

“I should say it does.”

“But this Crag guy was a warrior, right?”

“A butcher is a better term for it, but yes. A beast such as him was born for the chaos of a world such as this. He was built to thrive in adversity.”

“He was built, all right.” Stephen blew out a whistle. “When I drove that police cruiser into him, it was like hitting a brick wall.”

“Agreed,” Tamiko said. “He barely budged.”

Stephen looked over at Kisaki. “Which makes it all the more impressive that you threw him like a ragdoll. I still have no idea how you pulled that one off.”

“I’m only beginning to understand it myself,” Kisaki said. “But that particular move, I learned from my father.”

The rest of the table became quiet as her words sank in and she realized what she had just admitted.

“How so?” Tamiko asked. “I thought you never met him?”

Kisaki realized there was nothing to gain by remaining silent, especially to friends loyal enough to stand by her side against a beast such as Crag. “I have not, but just before the battle began...”

“Go on,” Shitoro prodded.

“Just as the fighting started, I had another of those visions I had mentioned, except this one was much clearer as to who and what they were about. The first clue was that man in my father’s photos, the smiling one. He was there.”

“You saw him in your vision?” Stephen asked.

“Yes. At first, I wasn’t sure if he was a friend or enemy. The truth is, I am still not certain. But I did realize one thing from this last vision.”

“What?”

“That I was seeing it all from behind my father’s eyes.”

♦ ♦ ♦

“How do you know this?” Shitoro asked, the food in front of him seemingly forgotten.

“The visions. At first, I thought they acted like those crystals, that I had been sent elsewhere. Except they were different. There’s no sound at all and I have no control over my body. Each time it’s happened, I’ve found myself being attacked. The first was by the smiling man. The next was by soldiers, with the smiling man fighting alongside me. The last was again of the smiling man. I spied a mirror in that one and realized the face looking back at me was my father’s.”

“You were in your father’s body?” Tamiko asked.

“It’s hard to explain. Yes and no. It was like I was...”

“Reliving his memories,” Shitoro replied, his mouth hanging agape.

“Is that possible?” she asked, but the youkai appeared deep in thought.

Finally, he turned toward Stephen. “The man in the photos with your great-grandfather. You said he was his friend, yes?”

“Yeah, from what I understand. Grandpop used to talk about him all the time. His name was ... oh man, I actually don’t remember.”

“His name is not important,” Shitoro snapped. “What was his relationship to your father?”

“Oh. Um, well, I think they grew up together. They were friends before the war. They served together, then they worked together as partners for a while afterwards until his friend moved away.”

“Partners in what?”

“Everything, I think. From what I heard, my great-grandfather started off as a boxer. He worked the amateur circuit for a while before turning to wrestling. After a while, he and his friend earned enough to open their own gym together. This was just before the war started, if I recall correctly.”

Shitoro turned to Kisaki. “Your mother said your father had the spirit of a warrior.”

“Yeah, fighting was his thing,” Stephen continued. “He and his buddy picked up stuff where they could from whoever would teach them. Before he died, we’d sometimes watch UFC matches on TV. He used to joke that he was ahead of his time with mixed martial arts. If he’d only been born fifty years later, he could have made a fortune.”

Shitoro sat back, his tail twitching. “I see.”

“What is it?” Kisaki asked.

“You only realized your own fighting potential after these visions started, yes?”

Kisaki nodded. “Before then, I had no idea I could even move like that. It was jarring to discover, but not in an entirely unpleasant manner. Do you know what’s happening?”

Shitoro shook his head. “I’m not certain.”

“But you just said...”

“Yes, yes, I know what I said. Allow me to explain. Blood contains memories. There are spells that can divine what another being has seen. Usually traumatic experiences, such as death, create the strongest imprints. Nevertheless, reading another’s blood is powerful magic, beyond me, but...”

“But what?” Kisaki asked.

“But I have never seen nor even heard of someone inheriting blood memories.”

“Maybe it’s like instinct,” Stephen offered. “I mean, dogs are born knowing certain behaviors. Same with ca...”

“Do not say it,” Shitoro warned, a flash of yellow power in his eyes. “But I know what you mean. However, this is completely different. A dog knowing to use scent to get around doesn’t equate to it remembering and recognizing its ancestors’ masters. Yet that is what Kisaki seems to be doing. Minus the master part, of course. If what she is saying is true, she is reliving portions of her father’s life through his eyes. More importantly, she is somehow remembering her father’s fighting skills. What he knew, she seems to know, at least when it comes to combat.”

“How?” she asked.

“Have you not been listening, child? I don’t know. This is unprecedented so far as I am aware. I can’t even begin to fathom how deep this connection runs.”

“What about her freaky strength?” Stephen asked.

“Kisaki is a hanyou. Her mother’s blood flows through her veins as well,” he replied dismissively, then fell silent.

“All things considered,” Tamiko said after a few moments, “I guess it’s a lot more useful than if your great-granddad had been a gardener instead.”

Stephen laughed. “Yeah. I doubt Crag would have settled for having his lawn mowed and tulips planted.”

Kisaki herself was lost in thought. She didn’t know how to trigger these visions, or if they would ever even happen again. But knowing what they were now did give her an unexpected measure of peace.

When she’d first learned who Stephen was, she’d despaired at the news that her father had died before she could meet him. But now, she realized, that wasn’t entirely true. Some of his essence lived on inside of her. She’d experienced a small portion of his life through his eyes. So, in a sense, she had met him, and in a way that ran much deeper than a simple handshake or hug.

But she also realized it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. What Shitoro said resonated within her. And she hoped that her connection to him indeed went further than combat. If so, then she could potentially meet him again and again, get to know the real him.

Such a thing wouldn’t bring him back, but it would answer so many questions and help fill the hole in her heart that, for seventy years, she didn’t even realize was there.

The question now was how to control it. His combat expertise was now hers, triggered by the onset of battle and kick-started again with every subsequent fight, seeming to become stronger each time. Perhaps a similar trigger was needed to activate other memories from his life. The only question was how?

Kisaki was about to ask Shitoro this but found him seemingly deep in his own thoughts. “Shitoro?”

“Hmm? Yes, mistress?”

“What is it? Are you okay?”

“Me? Oh yes. It’s just that ... I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“It’s probably not important. Just mulling something over in my head. Nothing to concern yourself with. Did you have need of me?”

Kisaki opened his mouth to answer but, before the words could form, the building rocked around them, sending her and the tiger youkai tumbling out of the booth.

“I can’t be the only one who felt that,” Stephen said as dust from the ceiling drifted down around them.

“Alas, even you are not that delusional, human.” Shitoro stood and transformed into his humanoid form, dusting himself off. “We should go out and see...”

The owner of the diner came racing out from the kitchen. “Holy Mary, Son of God. What in hell is going on? You kids stay put, while I...” The words died on his lips as he laid eyes upon Shitoro in his true form. “What in the name of the Holy Trinity is that?”

Before anyone could answer, the diner shook violently again. About half of the windows shattered from the force of whatever was going on.

That seemed to snap the owner back to reality, though his eyes were still transfixed on the little tiger demon. “All of you stay put while I see what’s going on. Your ... gremlin, too.”

The man trudged to the front door, unlocked it, and stepped out while Shitoro fumed. “Gremlin? What is it with you humans and your insults?”

“What we lack in magic we make up for in wit,” Stephen replied dryly before turning to the rest. “You two thinking what I am?”

“That there’s no way we’re sitting in here waiting?” Tamiko asked.

He nodded. “Let’s blow this pop stand.”