Once upon a time, in a faraway land, the storm god Susanoo fell to earth from heaven. He happened to come upon an old couple, who were weeping. They had lost seven of their eight daughters to the fearsome serpent Yamata no Orochi.
With eight tails and eight heads, it had gobbled up each of their daughters save for the one, Kushinada-hime.
Susanoo said he would fell the dreaded beast and so he did. He turned Kushinada-hime into a comb, hiding her in his hair, and had the old couple fill up eight vats full of sake for the beast. When Yamata no Orochi came, lured by the sake, all of his heads partook of the alcohol and he soon passed out into a drunken stupor.
It was then that Susanoo leapt and chopped the monster up into little pieces.
The day was saved, the fell beast eliminated, save for that one of its pieces caught in the river, washing down it, and others joined it. It was nothing so strong as to give the monster back its strength, but it was enough for Yamata no Orochi to gather some of its parts to itself, determined to eat and sup upon a fair maiden once more.
It is here our tale begins...
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"This is one big snake," Rikimaru said thoughtfully as he grasped the wriggling serpent by its tails. He pulled it from the Hi River that flowed smoothly near to where he and his father worked and tended several large rice paddies. The serpent lashed in his grip, making infuriated noises, and Rikimaru turned it so that he could look at its head and see what a serpent with split tails looked like at the other end.
"Whoa, gross," he exclaimed, leaning back. The serpent's head parted cleanly at the base, splitting into two necks, upon which perched two separate snake's heads. Both of the mouths were open, tongues lashing angrily at the air.
"You dare call the fearsome Yamata no Orochi 'gross'?" squeaked the serpent.
Rikimaru hastily dropped it into the mud, stood up and hopped back, wiping his palms off on the front of his clothing as though he was going to catch something.
Talking snakes, he thought. Dad was right that I've been helping myself to a bit too much of the sake.
"Peasant!" shrieked the serpent in a high, tinny voice. It spoke at once from its two heads, creating a curious echo effect when it spoke. It clumsily flopped itself from the mud closer to Rikimaru, who said eeeeeeeeh in disgust and slid his sandaled feet out of touching range. "Your fear of the great Yamata no Orochi is understandable, but this day I am choosing you as my servant! You will take me and tend to me until I have gathered back my strength and, in thanks, I will spare you in the future!"
"What? Nah. Dad'll be mad if I bring something back to the house," Rikimaru replied.
The snake, thrown by the casual refusal, pulled up short and glared up at Rikimaru contemptuously with two sets of eyes. "This is not a request!" it peeped furiously.
"Sorry, but I can't help you, little guy. See you later." Rikimaru went to where he had placed his buckets by the river to fill with water and hefted them into his hands. He walked back toward his and his father's modest home, certain he was free now of talking snakes... except he heard a wet plop from behind him and slowed, glancing back over his shoulder. The serpent was following him clumsily, body undulating awkwardly as it tried to move, obviously unaccustomed to its own form.
Rikimaru turned his face forward, determined to ignore it (because he was a peasant and peasants enjoyed when things were the same and consistent, thanks) until it got the hint.
Which, as it turned out, it didn't.
"Ah, gross," Jinnosuke, his father, exclaimed when he looked up to find Rikimaru had returned—but not without the strange little snake in tow. It was out of breath and, even now, it panted as it laid itself just outside of their entranceway to regain its strength.
"Maybe I won't spare either of you," the snake muttered to itself, "I'll just leave you both 'til last."
"And it talks." Jinnosuke shook his head. "Rikimaru, you've found some hapless yokai and brought it back home? What have I said about doing such things?"
Rikimaru shrugged, placing the buckets on the floor before raking his hand through his red hair. "Didn't do it on purpose. I just picked it up to look at it and then it started talking," he said, planting himself into a cross-legged position on the floor and taking up the work that his father had just left in order to investigate the odd animal.
"I am no... no mere yokai," the snake spluttered as it caught its breath and lurched inside. "I am the great and fearsome Yamata no Orochi! I have laid wastes to places far larger than this, my strength is unrivaled—"
Jinnosuke began to laugh, fetching a bowl of water for the tired creature. "What a funny thing you are," he said with amusement. Rikimaru looked over at his father with a frown before going back to his work. "Yamata no Orochi has been slain just several days hence. Indeed, even now the villages are celebrating and honouring the great Susanoo for freeing them. Why, even we're preparing things to bring to the village for the celebration."
The snake puffed up, its cheeks full of water, and gulped angrily before it spat: "Great hero! Pah! Simply an outcast from the heavens and a trickster. Unable to defeat Yamata no Orochi, he had to render him unconscious and kill him when he could no longer fight back!"
"Now," Jinnosuke said sternly, his good humour fading, "watch yourself, good yokai. People more dedicated to him than us exist, and they would surely drive you out by hearing such a thing."
"I am Yamata no Orochi—" but Jinnosuke cut off the exclamation with a chuckle.
"It is good to have dreams of grandeur, but I would hope you would become better than a monster. Here, we'll fetch you some food and arrange you a little cushion upon which you may sleep. You don't seem terribly dangerous, though you do look ghastly. My apologies."
The snake said nothing, glowering as best it could.
When Jinnosuke had slipped from the house to tend to the paddies, the snake heaved itself up to where Rikimaru was weaving a basket. In several days, he would carry sake and other things to the village where the celebrations were taking place, for they were quickly running out of food and drink for the blissful village people.
Looking up at the young man, the snake said, "I am Yamata no Orochi and you, Rikimaru, will be my servant."
Rikimaru looked down at it and then leaned to the side, taking a piece of fish off of a plate. He offered it to the snake without response and, before it could control itself, the snake eagerly snapped up the morsel and devoured it in hungry gulps. "I won't be your servant, but I can help look out for you until you can look out for yourself, Orochi," he replied in a drawl, fetching another piece of fish.
Yamata no Orochi looked at him skeptically, biting the fish from his fingers with one head while the other spoke, "You believe me. Wise of you, human, but why?"
Rikimaru shrugged his shoulders, picking up a piece of fish and dropping it into his own mouth to chew. "Just a feeling."
Though Orochi thought the answer unsatisfactory, it was all he was getting. He reluctantly gave up and ate piece by piece of food from Rikimaru's fingers before curling up next to the fire to sleep.
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From just a few days and nights, Yamata no Orochi found out more about his new servant—Rikimaru. Rikimaru was tall, muscular, and good thing too, for he had most of the physical labour to do in the rice paddies with his father aging and not as spry as he used to be. He did everything without complaint, and never broke the calmly focused look on his face. He had a severe face in general, so much so that Orochi thought he had no right in mentioning how gross Orochi looked. His eyebrows were constantly slanted down over his sharp, hawk-like eyes.
He was meticulous and strong, and Orochi imagined him at the head of his evil army once he had regained his power.
"I'll pass," Rikimaru told him to his face. The snake hissed in dismay and persisted, until Rikimaru stuffed fish into his mouth to shut him up.
Around midday, Rikimaru filled the wicker basket he had made with food and jars of sake that the two men brewed in small batches at their home with rice leftover from the harvest. Orochi watched him with his head tilted to one side, and yelped in protest when Rikimaru unceremoniously hoisted him up and put him into the basket too.
"How dare," the snake began indignantly as Rikimaru put the cover to the basket over his head.
"Don't talk when we get to the village," Rikimaru told him as he hoisted the basket onto his back. Bidding farewell to his father, he headed out the door of his home and onto the well-worn dirt road that would lead to the village. For days and nights now, there had been fireworks that even Rikimaru was able to see. He had also been privy to watching Orochi curl up sullenly whenever the fireworks started, stubbornly ignoring that his death was being so celebrated by everyone.
"Why must I come? I've no desire to go to that village," Orochi grouched from inside the basket. He wormed one of his heads out from under the lid, looking petulantly at the landscape as they walked.
"Fresh air's good for you. I'll get you a mikan when we get there, too," Rikimaru said.
"I don't want a mikan," Orochi growled.
But Rikimaru gave him such an incredulous look, as if stunned anyone would turn down such a delicious fruit, that Orochi snapped his mouth shut and pulled his head back in the basket. He curled up against one of the jars there, smelling the sake but unable to remove the cork and sneak a few sips from it like he wanted. Even though his love of sake had led to this predicament, it wasn't the beverage's fault. No, alcohol was blameless!
In that case, hold on...
Did he have himself to blame for his predicament, then? No, that was stupid! He was a powerful creature who got tricked, it wasn't his fault!
"You asleep in there, Orochi?"
"As though I could sleep with this infernal basket's rocking."
"Then come out. You might as well talk to me if you're awake."
Orochi glared at the walls of the basket, and reluctantly squirmed free of it. Rikimaru moved one of his arms so that Orochi could coil along his arm, wrapping some of his tail and body around his forearm to stay upright. The day was clear and fair, full of sunlight rather than the storm clouds Orochi always beckoned when he had controlled this region. He looked around petulantly.
The road was curiously free of travellers—thanks to the celebration in the villages, Rikimaru told him.
"I don't understand it," he said after a while. Rikimaru grunted to tell him he was listening. "All I asked for was a mere sacrifice. Even the gods ask for sacrifices, so why not a being as powerful as I? They celebrate that I no longer rule here but I did not cause them such strife." He flicked out his tongues angrily into the air, fearing Rikimaru's response the moment he said it.
But Rikimaru just stayed quiet, looking forward in thought.
"It is only one person a year, too," Orochi persisted. "Snakes and rats and birds all lose their young all the time, and do they make such an affair out of it? No. They procreate and bring more young into the world."
"That's surprisingly rational of you," Rikimaru said. "But you're trying to make sense of people, Orochi."
"And? So what of it?"
"People don't make sense," Rikimaru said frankly. "We don't go comparing ourselves to animals. 'S far as people're concerned, we're better. We're more important than them. And I imagine people probably said 'well, why didn't he ask for sacrifices of meat instead'?"
"Meat doesn't sustain," Orochi scoffed. "If I did not eat a human, I would die. Humans are a special food; they provide energy such that a cow wouldn't give. If I could spare myself from eating them, I would. However, out of all of the humans, the least unappetizing ones were those young women..." He flicked his tongue over his mouth in memory.
"Gross." Rikimaru's tone was flat but, to Orochi's surprise, he hadn't shrugged him off or shoved him back into the basket. He kept speaking with him. "See, people aren't gonna think like that. Anyway, you weren't all innocent like you're making yourself out to be. I'm sure you terrorized the villages, didn't you?"
The snake turned his heads to one side, avoiding Rikimaru's knowing look. "So what if I wandered in my spare moments?" he muttered.
"If it was just 'wandering', it'd be fine. Tricky snake."
"I don't know that I want a servant like you after all," Orochi said. "You're far too cheeky." So he said, but his thoughts and feelings were the exact opposite.
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The village was brimming with activity. They welcomed Rikimaru as soon as he stepped through the gates, cheered to see fresh alcohol and food brought to sustain the celebrations. He turned down invitation after invitation with a brief, though polite, shake of his head, a claim he had to return to his father before the night fell.
Orochi curled up at the very bottom of the basket and listened.
Everyone sounded so very, very happy. There was laughter, cheering at nothing, save perhaps a stupid drinking contest or something. The air was thick with the smells of food, sake and people who had spent their morning and nights enjoying the fact that they were alive. Enjoying that they had outwitted the fearsome beast who was now reduced to a diminished form, hiding away at the bottom of a basket.
The light outside of the basket began to dim after a while and, tentatively, he peeked out. Rikimaru had entered a grove of trees that bordered the village and Orochi grunted as he was jostled, the basket placed on the forest floor.
"Here. Dinner, let's eat," Rikimaru said as he sat cross-legged before the basket, flipping off the top.
"This is unwise," Orochi muttered. He felt very vulnerable and he hated it as he slithered from the basket and made a beeline straight into Rikimaru's lap. Curling up on his thighs, he felt safe at the warmth he could feel even through Rikimaru's clothing. Orochi scanned the surrounding trees, tongues flickering in and out of his mouths, and flinched when there was movement—which was merely Rikimaru himself.
"Relax," he said. "No-one's coming." He pulled something from his pocket and set to peeling it. It smelled of citrus, sweet but sour and, when it had all been peeled, Rikimaru offered him a slice. "Here, mikan."
"I said I didn't want any." But Orochi ate the offered piece. "You needn't feed me. I am no longer a helpless worm who cannot do anything but flop about!"
Rikimaru blinked, another piece of the fruit already poised between his fingers. "Guess that's true." But, he brought the slice close to Orochi anyway, despite the snake's flat glare. "But this is fun. Like feeding a baby animal."
"You—"
"Besides," Rikimaru continued. "You always eat it. You never doubt for a second that the food that I feed you is fine."
Orochi froze with the piece of fruit tangy and tart on his tongue, his throat suddenly tight.
Noticing, Rikimaru blinked, frowned, and then purposefully put a piece of the mikan in his mouth, chewing. "I'd never poison you," he said, "I just thought how trusting you are is nice. You even talked to me when you didn't know if I'd just stomp you to death." He ate another piece and Orochi finally swallowed the one in his mouth.
"I am not trusting." Even though he tried to prevent it, a note of bitterness crept into Orochi's voice.
"Sure you are." Rikimaru's easy rebuttal made Orochi glare, even when the last slice of fruit was shoved in his mouth. "The reason you're so angry at all this is 'cause you trusted that no-one would rise against you, right? You wouldn't be half so indignant if you actually thought you were doing anything wrong."
Orochi said nothing.
"You believed you were right and trusted that no-one would fight against you. You were acting the way a monster was supposed to. That's why you didn't think twice about the sake either." Rikimaru looked down at him... and a crooked smile tilted his lips, a smile that Orochi had never seen on him before. "It's a waste, I think. You could be a lot better than you were now that you know different."
For a moment, the snake felt as though he were burning up. Energy rushed through him, adrenaline, and his body writhed in Rikimaru's lap as he tried to curl himself up into a tight ball, hiding his heads from view. "Be silent," he snarled, voice muffled, "You're a servant, you don't need to have opinions!"
"Yeah, yeah. But, this is a good chance, wouldn't you say?"
Rikimaru's hand fell on his body and Orochi jolted in surprise. Never in his life had another being touched him gently, out of affection or otherwise.
"It's like you've been blessed with another chance at life. Might as well try things differently this time around. I like you like this, but I don't think I would've liked you before." Rikimaru thoughtfully stroked his fingers along one of Orochi's heads, fondling him as you would a cat with which you were familiar.
"I hate this feeble form."
"Well, we can fix that one, hopefully. Don't think the original you would fit in my house, so you'll have to stay tinier," Rikimaru told him, his tone easy and companionable.
"Hmph."
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What was that supposed to mean, anyway? Try things differently? Just because he was in a smaller form didn't mean that his innate nature would suddenly change. Rikimaru may as well have asked him to be human—
Wait a second.
While they travelled back to Rikimaru's house, Orochi struck upon a genius idea.
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"Welcome back, Rikimaru, Yama," Jinnosuke welcomed them heartily when they returned (Orochi had refused to give his 'real' name, so Jinnosuke gave him a nickname instead). They got an even heartier welcome when Jinnosuke saw what they had brought back with them—cakes, fruits and other foods from the village that the villagers were happy to heap upon them in thanks for the rice, sake and other foodstuffs that they sent.
That night, they would feast! ...so Jinnosuke said.
"Serve me a cup," Orochi demanded, staring greedily at a small jar of sake, the last one they had.
Rikimaru looked at him with his eyebrow raised.
"Do you think I am incapable of enjoying sake?" Orochi sniffed, turning up his snouts. "Serve me some. I will partake, and it is inhospitable to leave your guest out."
"Are you a guest anymore, Yama?" Jinnosuke asked, laughing. "You've made yourself quite at home."
Orochi just flicked out his tongue in agitation and glowered, but settled when a cup was set before him. He bowed over it, greedily sucking up the alcohol and puffing out a sound of contentment. It was nothing like the powerful sake that was his undoing, and all the better for it. It was fresh, delicious and reminded him of Rikimaru and Jinnosuke, made him think of them meticulously preparing it.
"Strangely nostalgic," he whispered to himself, flicking his tongue across his lips.
Rikimaru looked at him curiously but just sipped from his cup, held in the circle of his fingers.
"Ah, we hear that one a lot," Jinnosuke jumped on it with a proud grin. The grizzled older man leant his body forward, elbow propped on his knee. "My father and his father before him made sake. We've only ever made a little to sell or to trade, but most people who taste it ask us if they've drank it before somewhere else."
"I think maybe we're just unoriginal," Rikimaru said with a smile.
"Bah! You'll have your ancestors rolling in their graves if you say those things," Jinnosuke warned, brandishing a finger at him. "Our ancestors strived for a taste that would make people think of home."
Orochi was very quiet indeed while Rikimaru and Jinnosuke playfully bantered.
Looking down into his empty sake cup, he wondered where his home was now. Rikimaru implied that he could stay, and Jinnosuke didn't seem offended at his presence, so then—was this to be his home? But if he returned to his former glory and went about things how he did, he wouldn't stay here any longer.
He recalled the idea he struck upon earlier and tensed his body, narrowing both sets of his eyes.
He was Yamata no Orochi. He did not simply worry. He found what he wanted and he took it. And what he wanted—
He wanted—
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"Dad. Have you seen Orochi?"
"You're still calling him that? My son invites bad luck upon us," Jinnosuke groaned, rolling in his futon and looking blearily up at Rikimaru. He sobered when he realised that Rikimaru wore an uncharacteristically solemn, worried expression and pushed himself up. When he scanned their modest abode, he saw no snake curled up on the cushion that had become his bed in the few weeks it had been since the strange creature had come to live with them.
"I think he might've slipped out last night and not come back," Rikimaru said anxiously.
Jinnosuke stood slowly, wearily rotating his shoulders and frowning. "Perhaps it was time for him to move on?" he said, though he doubted it.
He wanted to reason and say that the snake would surely go on his way eventually, but he had noticed that the beast was strangely, curiously lingering. Especially when it came to how much time he spent with Rikimaru. He had woken up several times to the two of them talking late into the night.
They talked about things he couldn't be bothered to listen to, but they spent all of their time together. When Rikimaru went out for his chores, he took the snake with him on his shoulder, or hid him under the shade of his hat when he had to work the paddies in the hot sun.
It did feel strange that the snake would leave without a word.
"I'll look through the paddies for Yama," Jinnosuke said, rubbing his hand over his greying hair. "You check out the forest and the road."
"...Thanks." Rikimaru's tight expression eased slightly and then he hurried, bolting from the house.
Jinnosuke shook his head with a troubled smile and headed out into the paddies.
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The forest near their home was wild. Not very large, it was nevertheless a struggle to push his way through the branches and the bushes. However, Rikimaru did it without hesitating, his mind on the snake being attacked or worse. He knew not if Orochi even had poison in him, was able to fight another creature, though he had claimed some of his power had come back lately.
"Orochi!" he shouted, unthinking in his haste.
Soon, a slick and smooth voice answered him:
"Ahh, are you looking for a snake?"
When he looked over, a fox stood on a nearby tree root, observing him with narrow eyes and a smile. Its tail flicked back and forth behind it and it opened its jaws, doubtlessly to start some manner of trickery or bartering. So many yokai were all about tradition.
But Rikimaru thrust out a hand toward it, holding a piece of tofu, and the fox froze, its ears quivering. "You tell me where you saw him, you get this," Rikimaru said calmly, raising an eyebrow. The fox was torn between its usual conventional habits of trickery, and the allure of tofu. In the end, as is with all creatures, its stomach won and it lunged eagerly for the offered morsel, snapping it up greedily.
"Further in the forest that way," it said as it chewed, "you'll find the snake. Though he might not be the same as you last saw him."
"What the hell is that—"
With a giggle, the fox disappeared into the forest and Rikimaru watched its retreating tail coldly, wondering whether Orochi would enjoy a good fox stew. He shook his head, hurrying through the trees where the fox indicated. He fought his way through the trees in his way, snapping off several heedlessly, ignoring the cuts or marks left on his skin from his fight with the foliage.
He felt as though eyes were watching him from the trees, as though things were laughing at his struggle.
"You all forget I have axes and fire on my side," Rikimaru muttered and the laughter quelled from then on.
He battled on in relative quiet, until he pushed through a set of branches and stumbled into a small clearing. He trampled several mushrooms, nearly slipping on the leaf litter, and jerked his head, frantically scanning the surroundings. Nothing, nothing, a man, nothing, nothing—wait what?
Rikimaru's eyes widened in surprise at the figure sprawled on the ground.
It didn't look like a traveller or a monk, who would at least have some supplies prepared for sleeping in a forest. Rather, they were dressed in unusual finery, silvery and white robes. Their hair spread out all around them on the forest floor, twigs and leaves caught in the strands and Rikimaru thought, for a second, it must be a noble who'd been robbed and left for dead—when they moved.
No. Not them. Their hair.
A serpent, attached to the man's hair, rose up, its tongue flickering out to taste the air. It saw Rikimaru and its eyes popped and it turned, hastily nudging the man. The man groaned and swatted the air with a hand—a hand topped with long, sharp nails, tops of his arms completely covered with dark scales.
Rikimaru approached, looking down. There wasn't just one snake but seven, each of them attached to the stranger's hair. Every single one of them avoided his eyes when he looked at them, and he sat down next to the man.
Reaching out, he swatted at his cheeks with his palms.
"Ow—ow, how dare you!" the man spluttered, his eyes opening at once, and they bore a familiar colour and slit pupils. He swatted angrily at Rikimaru's hands and growled in a familiar voice, though far less high-pitched, "You have a lot of nerve, Rikimaru, handling me like that!"
"Sorry." Rikimaru paused, putting his hands back on his knees. "Why are you a human?"
Orochi looked at him blankly for several long moments, long strands of black hair hanging in his face... and then he startled, looking down at himself and then over at Rikimaru and then holding up his hands to stare. "Ah, oh, this, well, this is, you see—"
"More importantly," Rikimaru interrupted, frowning, "why didn't you come back last night? Dad's looking for you right now in the rice paddies. We were worried."
Orochi's face contorted and he looked away. He said something too low to hear and, when Rikimaru leaned in to try to catch it when he repeated it, he caught a tiny little, "Don't know how to use the legs on this damnable body."
Rikimaru put his hand to his forehead.
"Do not react like that," Orochi snapped, struggling to lever himself upright. So this was why he hadn't come back, Rikimaru thought. He could barely sit up, never mind get to his feet. "You've had plenty of years to get used to these stilts of yours, and I have not!"
"Right, right," Rikimaru murmured, not lowering his hand yet, though Orochi could hear him smiling. It came right through in his voice! This damnable human! He didn't even want to hold onto him when Rikimaru offered him his shoulder, wrapping his arm around his waist and pausing just a moment when he realised Orochi towered over him. "So, how did this come to be?"
"Well," Orochi said, grunting and finding his footing as they took the first of the many baby steps to get out of the forest, "you said I could not stay in your home were I too large, so I thought I would kindly accommodate you. However, now I'm not wondering if I ought to have remained in a more serpentine shape. Considering how damned inconvenient this is."
He swore as he stubbed his toe and Rikimaru winced in sympathy.
"For what it's worth," Rikimaru said, "I like this form. The scales make you stand out, but... I suppose we can just cover you up when we travel to the villages."
He felt more than saw the way Orochi fidgeted.
"So you plan on taking me on your excursions," he said casually, affecting an indifferent tone. "I suppose there's no help for it, I'll come along if need be."
Rikimaru had to fight not to look over at Orochi's face, to focus instead on guiding him. As a snake he had been expressive, but with features of a human—and features he didn't know how to control—he had just gone from easy to understand to utterly transparent. Probably best not to tell him about it.
"Do you think Dad's going to faint?" he asked abruptly.
"Why? It's only me," Orochi replied, frowning, as though he didn't realise how big of a deal a talking two-headed snake going to a tall man with snakes for hair and covered with scales was. It was a great deal harder to hide. But stranger things had likely happened in this world and, if the villages were leery of a snake-scaled man, they would deal with that when the time came.
"Guess so," he said.
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Jinnosuke did faint. Twice. After he woke up the second time, Orochi said crossly that he was making a big deal out of nothing and then Jinnosuke yelled at him a while for slipping out and turning into a human (kind-of-human) without telling them and then all was well.
If he thought that walking was difficult, however, it hardly compared to attempting to use chopsticks. He refused Rikimaru's suggestions that he just eat with his fingers or feed the snakes that were both his hair and him. Anything Rikimaru could do, he would do. He would not be looked down upon just because he wasn't used to this form!
He didn't tell Rikimaru or Jinnosuke how he had done it, shaking his head when they asked and saying it was the privilege of something like him to be able to change forms.
In fact, it had been far more painful of a transformation than he had anticipated. He had had to use all of his magic and then some, sacrificing his life force and longevity so that he could gain a body much more like Rikimaru's. He did not tell them he was mortal now, despite his appearance, and would probably only live as long as a normal human from here on out. He kept all of that to himself, for a later time.
Rikimaru, like Orochi knew he would be, was terrifically patient with him. He helped Orochi to walk, he didn't move to do things for him but firmly showed him how Orochi could do them himself. Some days it was so frustrating that he just wanted to break things, but he felt his own gradual improvement after days that turned into weeks, weeks that stretched into months until the weather and air took on the taste of winter.
They were shoring up for the winter now, and Orochi winced and shivered whenever he stepped outside. At this time of year, he would have raided the villages, collecting things to eat and drink that would keep him warm through the season. He had stolen blankets from people before, building himself a tidy nest in the mountainside cave that had been his home. Now he dressed in warm clothes that they had traded for and spent most of his time (when not helping Jinnosuke and Rikimaru) sitting by the fire, the snakes in his hair bundled up against the cold as well.
As it happened, one day upon his return he noticed an unfamiliar pair of boots at the entryway. He frowned at them, confused, and lingered in the entry until Rikimaru hurried out to meet him.
"Yama," he said, using Jinnosuke's nickname, "welcome back." There was a hardness in his gaze, and Orochi's snakes flicked out their tongues to taste the air, to find out what was going on—and a shiver rocked down his spine. That scent was familiar. He heard it too, a booming voice laughing from further in the small residence.
"Susanoo?" he hissed and Rikimaru nodded.
He stepped down to Orochi and moved to gather his hair and his snakes, carefully bundling them all and tucking them down within the cloak that Orochi wore even during the coldest days. There was little they could do about his dark scales that covered his cheeks, neck and hands on such short notice, but Rikimaru passed him gloves and bade him pull his hood up over his head.
"It'll be okay," Rikimaru promised. "I won't let him do anything to you."
Orochi just raised his eyebrow at him, already a master of the skeptical you think you can protect me? look, despite his short amount of time in this body. He took a steadying breath and walked with Rikimaru into the main area of the home. Susanoo turned to look curiously at this newest arrival, Susanoo being a man Orochi remembered only vaguely—he'd been so drunk at the time that it was a mere haze until everything had been pain.
He was big and intimidating, though Orochi's height far outstripped his. Orochi was slender, however, and he folded himself up as he lowered to the floor, back against the wall, as far from Susanoo as he could get without drawing suspicion.
"Our friend, Yama," Jinnosuke said, exchanging a glance with his son. "He's the quiet sort and I'm afraid the cold is rather hard on him so please don't mind if he doesn't speak much, honoured Susanoo." He bowed briefly to the man, the god, who just grinned.
"I do not mind. Want you a cup of sake to warm you, friend?" he offered, oblivious to the way the words made Orochi twitch.
"Tea is all I desire. Thank you," Orochi said as quietly as he could, rankled by the need to act meek in what was his own home. Not that his voice would be recognised—he had never spoken to any human before save to demand sacrifices. Susanoo would surely not recognise his voice either. And sure enough, Susanoo shrugged lightly and turned back to Jinnosuke, happily exchanging stories with him across the fire.
Rikimaru brought a pot to Orochi and, when it was poured into a cup, he tasted it and found sweet, hot amazake instead of tea.
He looked up at Rikimaru in surprise and Rikimaru smiled wryly.
"This was supposed to be for later, and supposed to be a happier gift," he said, "but, well, surprise anyway. Drink up."
Orochi did, sagging against the wall as warmth settled through his whole body, heating him from the inside out. He could almost forget that the man who had cut his body up so neatly was sitting but a few paces away. Rikimaru's presence was bolstering, even if he had no chance were to Susanoo recognise him and decide to finish what he started.
However, the evening passed uneventfully. Susanoo was in the midst of travelling, and would soon return to heaven but he asked a favour to stay the night. Orochi wanted to yell at him to leave his home and never come back, but he could only sit and stew in silence with Rikimaru laying his hand over his in comfort.
It took a long time until he was able to sleep, even with his futon settled close to Rikimaru's. His motions were restless and he had to remember to keep his hood up, just in case.
When he had finally dropped into sleep, a voice came from over him.
"Yama, I apologise for interrupting your sleep," Susanoo said, "but I wish for your assistance. Would you step outside with me?"
Orochi's gut clenched and he tucked himself down underneath the futon blanket for a long moment. Rikimaru was fast asleep behind him, and he was loath to wake him up. If this was leading where he thought it was, he didn't want to involve Rikimaru or Jinnosuke. "All right," he muttered and rose from the futon, reluctantly following Susanoo out into the cold, winter air. Shuddering, he gripped his arms to his body and stared at Susanoo's back as the man lead them further from the house.
"Yamata no Orochi, I should say," Susanoo declared after he had come to a stop and turned to observe Orochi. "It is strange indeed to find you here, in this form. Alive, especially."
Of course he would recognise him. Orochi clenched his hands, trying not to shake. Even if Orochi had completely changed, his dark scales were unmistakeable, and it was awfully hard to hide your true nature from a god. Susanoo would have felt something off from the moment he entered the residence.
It was only through some warped sense of mercy he hadn't said anything sooner.
"Yes, well," Orochi replied, pitching his voice in Rikimaru's manner of casual indifference, "I was fortunate enough to scrape together some of my remnants." He pushed back his hood and shook his hair free, his snakes hissing thankfully but all of them watching Susanoo in the same cautious, tight manner.
Susanoo continued to observe him, as though trying to see through him. "This is the first time we've truly spoken," he commented.
Orochi frowned. "You didn't wake me up in the middle of the night and drag me out into this gods-forsaken cold just to small talk with me," he said flatly, tightening his arms around himself and trying not to shiver. He was impressed by his own guts, considering he was staring down a man who had absolutely chopped him into itty bitty pieces, like a butcher with a slab of meat on his block.
Susanoo, to his surprise, laughed and placed his hand to the side of his neck. "That's true, I didn't," he said. His expression turned a moment later, to something serious and a little angry, crackling like lightning in storm clouds.
Orochi, who had seen Rikimaru mad before and had been terrified by that, managed not to flinch, running his fingers over one of his snakes as he pretended he was waiting patiently for an answer.
"For what purpose do you lurk in these two good men's home?" Susanoo demanded. "I know of your nature, monster, your greed and your hunger. No matter what human skin you hide yourself in. Are you waiting to glut yourself upon them once the winter comes?"
Orochi blanched, staring incredulously. "You're kidding," he said and Susanoo's anger evaporated some, just from the way the reply was phrased. "This body's robbed me of my taste for human. Besides, I've found out that I don't need to eat them any longer."
"What?"
Orochi shrugged one of his shoulders, refusing to elaborate more.
"You're surprisingly stubborn, monster," Susanoo said with a scowl. "Very well. Why not prove to me that your bloodthirst has abated?" At Orochi's blank expression, he elaborated, "We'll have a competition. Should you win it, then it will serve as proof to me that you're not the same creature that would gorge on humans."
It was once a year, Orochi protested in his head and then, aloud, he said, "No way."
Susanoo blinked. "You refuse?"
"Of course I refuse. Do you think me an idiot? Every creature in this world and above it knows what happened the last time you had a challenge with anyone," Orochi scoffed. "I may not take away the sun when I go in a cave, but I've no desire to suffer your meaningless anger after one of your challenges, Susanoo no Mikoto."
"So you will not prove that you are changed."
"You'd think the fact that Rikimaru and Jinnosuke were alive after months with me would be proof enough," the snake-turned-man said crossly. "Take your challenges elsewhere; I haven't the time for them. You felled the monster that you wanted to and Yamata no Orochi isn't any more. Now you just have a man who can't abide the cold and who's avoided every time he steps foot in a village."
Susanoo took a step closer and Orochi tensed, but the god just looked at him—and jerked back in shock.
"You are mortal," he exclaimed.
Orochi looked away crossly, glaring up at the moonlight. "I've learned you have to make sacrifices in order to get what you truly want," he groused. "On the bright side, I'll get to die and be rid of gods and all of their nonsense rather than suffer eternally knowing they're still around."
Susanoo shook his head in disbelief, his anger dissolved and his hand rubbing against his coarse beard. "Yamata no Orochi turned man," he muttered. "Truly, this world has become strange."
"How about going back to heaven, then?" Orochi suggested scathingly, pointing up at the sky. "I promise I would love that."
"You're pushing your—"
"Oro—Yama!" a familiar voice shouted through the night's chill. Orochi turned as Rikimaru dashed toward him... wielding a pitchfork. He jerked the tool-turned-makeshift-weapon to point right at Susanoo, scowling fiercely, his eyes seeming to burn in the moon's dim light. Orochi squawked, grabbing at his arm and tugging it while spluttering idiot, no!
Susanoo watched them with some bemusement before, at last, he sighed.
"I will not do anything," he told the snarling Rikimaru. "Though I am admittedly surprised by all of this."
Rikimaru's scowl didn't diminish as he put himself between Susanoo and Orochi, despite Orochi's best attempts to drag him back. "I'll not lose him," he swore fiercely. "Yamata no Orochi or not, it doesn't matter. I'll fight you if you try to do anything. Even if you're a god, I bet it still damn well hurts getting stabbed."
He jabbed the pitchfork threateningly until Orochi wrapped both arms around his chest and dragged him backward.
Susanoo covered a laugh with a cough. "Put down your weapon, good man, I've no designs on your... companion."
Companion, but he was giving Orochi a very significant look. A look that made Orochi redden and made him also want to change into the huge monster he had been so that he could try biting Susanoo clean in half.
Rikimaru clicked his tongue in disbelief but, after a moment, he reluctantly lowered it. He didn't let it go, grip so tight his knuckles were white.
"I've already heard everything I need to," Susanoo said, rubbing his beard again. "And, I suppose I shall depart peaceably. It's probably best for me not to infringe on your hospitality any longer." Rikimaru's glare steepened and he cough-laughed again. "Farewell, Yamata no Orochi. May we not need to meet again."
"I'm praying very vehemently for that too." Orochi tightened his arms at Rikimaru's chest—though he didn't actually need to hold him back any longer and both of them knew it.
With little more than a motion, Susanoo turned and was gone, his figure glimmering briefly in the night's sky before disappearing under cover of clouds. They stood there for long minutes in the cold, as though Susanoo might change his mind and return, and Rikimaru was tense for all of that time. Only when the animals of the night began to make noise again did he relax and lean back against Orochi.
"Are you okay?" he asked, placing his warm palm on Orochi's hand where it gripped the clothing at his chest.
"Who do you think you're speaking to?" Orochi muttered, trying to sound arrogant and failing. He put his chin atop Rikimaru's head instead, closing his eyes as Rikimaru's short hair tickled underneath his jaw.
"Yama," Rikimaru replied with a tiny laugh.
"I hate that nickname. It's ridiculous."
"Orochi." Yes, that was what he preferred. Rikimaru smoothly saying his name...and smoothly turning so that they looked at each other. Orochi had lifted his chin so he could turn, but needn't have bothered, for Rikimaru put both of his arms about his neck and pulled Orochi down to him.
He kissed him, sweet and hot as the amazake he'd given him, and heat flowed right through Orochi's body. He could never tell Rikimaru why he no longer needed to consume humans, that... that whatever these emotions were, they more than sustained him. He hadn't known he could survive simply by being in contact with humans, knew only that he could survive for a year if he consumed one and never thought to try another way.
Orochi slid an arm around his waist, holding him tightly as he returned the kiss.
"Let's go back in," Rikimaru sighed to his mouth.
"Please. I'm freezing."
With Rikimaru guiding him by the hand, they returned back to their home.
THE END