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Round 2 - Kazutaka Muraki, "Salted", Fic (○)
Pseudonym: Kazutaka Muraki
Title: Salted
Characters/Pairings: Shindou Hikaru, Touya Akira
Rating: Not suitable for children.
Warnings/Contains: Contains somewhat graphic violence and some coarse language.
Summary/Notes: Hikaru and Akira are demon hunters. Hikaru's grandfather has a ghost. (Large dose of Supernatural [TV Show] fusion with additional Japanese mythology.)
Hikaru sat in the truck listening to the radio and checking the clock on the display every now and again. Twenty minutes. He was ready to go into the grocery store himself when Akira finally walked out of the store and let himself in the passenger door. "What took you so long?" Hikaru shifted the truck into drive and headed off toward the setting sun.
Akira dropped the paper bag he was carrying onto the bench seat between them and strapped on his seatbelt. "Do you know how many kinds of salt there are at the grocery store now?"
Hikaru rolled his eyes as he pressed the clutch and eased the truck into second gear and said, "And any one of them would've worked. Salt is salt."
"You know it isn't." Akira reached out a hand to steady the bag when Hikaru moved to third gear and sped around a tight corner. "Rock salt is best for weapons. Iodized salt is best for lines and bindings. Kosher salt is best for burning. But they've got sea salt and salt substitute and colored salt and flavored salt and all kinds of others that can work for different things." He reached for the bag again and pulled out the four packages inside. Three of them were packages of iodized, rock and kosher. This Hikaru could tell from a glance. Hikaru couldn't quite make out what the fourth one was until Akira held it forward. "This is something called fleur de sel. It says it's finishing salt. I figured we could try it."
"You cut it close on the time. You know if it's night when you buy salt, it doesn't have the same potency." Hikaru shifted gears again, but this time something made a grinding noise, so he shifted back down and kept driving.
"Stop worrying, Hikaru. Your grandfather isn't in the house right now, so we've got the time to get this ghost out." Akira reached a hand up to pat Hikaru's shoulder firmly. "He won't be a match for us."
Hikaru ground through the gears again to get into fourth so he could up his speed a little. He smoothed a thumb along the ragged plastic covering of the steering wheel. "I hope you're right."
The sun still peeked over the tops of the trees when Hikaru pulled the truck into his grandfather's driveway. "We've got to hurry."
Akira rolled his eyes. "It doesn't have to be burned in daylight."
Hikaru narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't hurt." He pulled a folded up piece of newspaper from his pocket and unfolded it by the corner of the driveway. Folded inside were several thin wood shavings. Without words, he took the box of rock salt from Akira and opened it while Akira worked on opening the other packages. When they were all open, Hikaru pulled a lighter from his pocket and sparked the start of a flame that he put to the edge of the newspaper. As is blazed up, the two men sprinkled a small amount of each kind of salt on the fire. The flames turned different colors as the fire consumed the fuel, then gave a final burst of flame before calmly dying in a pile of ash. Hikaru stomped the ashes with his booted foot and looked to Akira. "Let's get ready."
Rock salt went into their jacket pockets and the hems of their pants. Akira held the bag with the packages while Hikaru grabbed a container of gasoline. Hikaru double-checked that his lighter was back in his pocket and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly enough that he felt the warmth of it against his own face. "Ready?"
"Yes." Akira tucked one hand into his pocket and pulled out some of the rock salt. "Let's do this."
Hikaru opened the front door and paused while Akira threw his handful of salt. Then Hikaru took the first few steps inside and turned on the lights. Akira followed him closely and closed the door behind him. As Hikaru ventured forward, Akira grabbed for the iodized salt from the bag. He began by pouring a line of it in front of the door, then on the window sills. The small grains caught the light from the setting sun and shone with a hint of orange. He took a handful of it and scattered it in the pathways that led to the other rooms, then watched as Hikaru came down from the attic carrying a goban. "That's it?"
Setting it down on the floor, Hikaru pointed. "Do you see the blood stain?"
Akira looked closely at the top of the board, but saw nothing until he touched the side. The red stain came into full view. "If my father finds out about this, he's going to kill me."
"Why? Because he's the grand master of go or something? If he saw this thing, he'd get over it fast." Hikaru lifted the goban again and slid it into his grandfather's fireplace. Grabbing the box of kosher salt, he tossed several handfuls over the top of the board, then grabbed the can of gasoline and doused the top. The grains of salt still stuck to his hands dug into his flesh. Out came the lighter from his pants pocket. It flickered to life and Hikaru touched the flame to the side of the goban quickly. It was enough to catch the fuel alight and Hikaru stood back to watch it for a moment. "Huh."
Grabbing the iron poker from the side of the fireplace, Akira stood next to him. They watched for a moment as the laquered surface of the board bubbled up from the heat. "This is too easy."
"I was just thinking tha- Ungh!"
Hikaru fell backward as a tall ghost attacked him, ethereally beautiful even with rage billowing around him. His long hair and formal clothing seemed to drip with ghostly water that fell as bursts of bitter cold on his skin. "Akira!"
Akira reared back with the poker and swung it through the ghost's non-corporeal body. It hissed and disappeared, leaving Hikaru panting on the floor. "Damn it!"
"How is it not the board?" Akira handed Hikaru the poker and grabbed the ash shovel for himself. "This man died at this board, right? He left his DNA behind on it. What else could be holding him here?"
Hikaru hissed as he heard the floor creaking behind him. "I don't know, but we'd better find out." He pulled a handful of the rock salt from his pocket and threw it in the direction of the creaking. The laughter that filled the air chilled him to the bone. "Mister Ghost, I hope you're ready to go to the great beyond now."
"Here." Akira handed him a small flashlight. "Go back up in the attic and see if you missed something." He held up the shovel and his expression hardened. "I've got this."
Pausing for just a moment to watch Akira, Hikaru gave a curt nod and ran toward the attic stairs. He was only a few steps up when he felt something grab at his ankles, but the ghost let go quickly when an iron shovel cut through him. This ghost was strong if it didn't have to wait very long to attack again after getting sliced with iron. What was he looking for that would cause that kind of hold? Hikaru climbed the rest of the steps quickly and turned on the flashlight before plunging into the darkness. He was careful to avoid the broken glass of the light bulb that was scattered over the floor; the very thing that had alerted his grandfather to the otherworldly presence in his attic.
He could hear Akira's grunts as he attempted to fend off his attacker, as well as the sound of ceramic shattering. He seethed a breath through his teeth and looked again at where the goban had been. The only things left there were the two dusty go ke and a piece of cloth that had covered the board.
Hikaru wrenched open one of the go ke and examined the black stones inside, but he had no idea what he was looking for. He spread the cloth out and dumped the contents of both go ke onto it. A quick examination of the go ke revealed nothing of importance. There were no strands of hair or bits of fingernail or skin cells or drops of blood. Even for revenge, ghosts didn't hang around unless there was something physical to tie them to the mortal realm. Was it just the go ke themselves?
Then Hikaru took a second look at the stones. One white stone seemed a little different from the others.
With horror running through him, he picked it up and held it close to the flashlight's beam and swallowed heavily. That would do it. Hikaru palmed the stone and ran back down the stairs.
Akira, at this point, had run out of easily accessible salt. He'd already grabbed the box of kosher salt from the mantle and tried to capture the ghost within a ring of it, but it had been too fast and too angry and simply too much. He had blood dripping down his face from being smashed into tables and walls. Iron barely slowed the ghost down; it was a wonder Hikaru's grandfather had managed to live so long with such a hostile spirit inside of his home. He heard Hikaru's feet on the stairs and looked up gratefully, which was just enough of a distraction for the ghost to knock him backward with more force than ever before. Akira fell backward and hit his head against the coffee table.
Hikaru screamed, "No!" as he watched Akira fall to the floor, unconscious. He jumped past the last few steps and landed heavily on the ground. A jolt of pain raced up his legs. "Leave him alone!"
Hikaru grabbed at the salt in one pocket, clawing desperately to get as many of the large grains as he could, and shoved it in the face of the ghost. But instead of the usual ghostly screams and ectoplasmic goo coating his hand as the ghost fled what was supposed to be a sign of purity, Hikaru only felt overcome by sadness and loss.
He had been cheated and everything had been taken from him. The only thing he had left was the game, and there was no one who would play. He took a step into the river, gasping for breath as the cold seemed to slice through him. His body fought his intentions as he struggled to keep his head under the water, managing only at the last moment before his mental defeat to achieve his physical defeat. He gasped for breath immersed in the ice cold water. The pain was coming in flashes of bright light and he fought them with anger about his situation. As his spirit left his body and he became aware again, though he couldn't tell how much time had passed, he watched in horror as the very man who had Scheated him desecrated his body.
Hikaru fought the feelings of the ghost and the moments of his death. He grasped at the white stone still in his hand and took slow, heavy steps toward the burning goban. The scent of the smoke from the kaya wood tickled at his nose and brought tears to his eyes that trailed down to his jaw and dripped onto the collar of his jacket. He was almost there. But the feelings were overwhelming: there was the joy of finding the first man who could see him, and the frustration of being incapable of holding the stones himself, and the anguish of losing the man to disease with the future pulled suddenly from him once again. The longer the memories that weren't his went on, the harder it was to push forward and away.
He tripped suddenly on the paper bag and fell on it. The last small package inside popped out, scattering its contents. Hikaru jammed the fingers of his left hand in the salt and pulled them up to his mouth, letting the flavor overwhelm his senses. The gentle flavor of briny sea exploded on his tongue as the sharp crystals dissolved. It pushed the ghost far enough away from Hikaru's own soul that Hikaru was able to force his way up and take the last few steps forward to slam the stone down on the burning slab of wood in the fire with a resounding pa-chi.
It was only a moment before the ghost released him completely and stopped holding onto the mortal coil. Hikaru pulled his hand from the fire with a wince and tried not to look at the burnt flesh. It didn't stop him from feeling it. He drew in deep breaths of air warmed by the fire blazing in front of him. It took several long moments to make his way to Akira and several more before he could lift his arm to jostle the other man's shoulder.
"Akira." Hikaru tasted salt again, but this was from the tears that were cascading down his face to pool in the corners of his pained grimace and trickle onto his tongue. "Akira!" His unburnt fingers scrabbled at the back of Akira's neck and lifted him up into a sitting position. "Damn it, Akira. I need you to answer me."
There were several long moments of silence before he saw Akira's chapped lips move and saw his eyelids flutter open heavily. "What?"
With a laugh, Hikaru used his uninjured arm to pull Akira into a quick embrace. "Are you okay? I need you to drive."
Akira struggled to sit up of his own volition. "What's wrong with you?"
"Burnt my hand." Hikaru didn't bother to hold it up. The thought make him queasy.
"Doing what?" Akira sat forward and glanced at the hand dangling at Hikaru's side and frowned.
Hikaru took a few more deep breaths and tried to focus on anything but the pulsing heat that seemed to have infested his flesh. "One of the stones was made of bone. The ghost possessed me before I could toss it in the fire. I had to slam it down. You okay to drive?"
Akira touched the back of his head gingerly and winced as his hand made contact with a bloody gash. His hair was matted down over it with coagulated blood. "I'm not feeling any fresh blood and my vision isn't blurry. Get up."
Hikaru stood woozily. "I think I'm starting to go into shock."
"Hikaru, focus. Get to the truck and get in. Think about something else."
"I'm not sure I can."
Akira smiled. "Sure you can. Think about what other line of work you want to get involved in after this. There's more to life than destroying ghosts and killing demons."
Hikaru looked wistful for a moment. "Y'know, we should get your father to teach us how to play go."
Go to opponent's entry: Round 2 - Kyuba, "Oral Sex and Tears Taste Kinda the Same", Fic & Graphics (●)
Go to vote: Ichigaya vs. The White Suit Society - First Board Match
Title: Salted
Characters/Pairings: Shindou Hikaru, Touya Akira
Rating: Not suitable for children.
Warnings/Contains: Contains somewhat graphic violence and some coarse language.
Summary/Notes: Hikaru and Akira are demon hunters. Hikaru's grandfather has a ghost. (Large dose of Supernatural [TV Show] fusion with additional Japanese mythology.)
Hikaru sat in the truck listening to the radio and checking the clock on the display every now and again. Twenty minutes. He was ready to go into the grocery store himself when Akira finally walked out of the store and let himself in the passenger door. "What took you so long?" Hikaru shifted the truck into drive and headed off toward the setting sun.
Akira dropped the paper bag he was carrying onto the bench seat between them and strapped on his seatbelt. "Do you know how many kinds of salt there are at the grocery store now?"
Hikaru rolled his eyes as he pressed the clutch and eased the truck into second gear and said, "And any one of them would've worked. Salt is salt."
"You know it isn't." Akira reached out a hand to steady the bag when Hikaru moved to third gear and sped around a tight corner. "Rock salt is best for weapons. Iodized salt is best for lines and bindings. Kosher salt is best for burning. But they've got sea salt and salt substitute and colored salt and flavored salt and all kinds of others that can work for different things." He reached for the bag again and pulled out the four packages inside. Three of them were packages of iodized, rock and kosher. This Hikaru could tell from a glance. Hikaru couldn't quite make out what the fourth one was until Akira held it forward. "This is something called fleur de sel. It says it's finishing salt. I figured we could try it."
"You cut it close on the time. You know if it's night when you buy salt, it doesn't have the same potency." Hikaru shifted gears again, but this time something made a grinding noise, so he shifted back down and kept driving.
"Stop worrying, Hikaru. Your grandfather isn't in the house right now, so we've got the time to get this ghost out." Akira reached a hand up to pat Hikaru's shoulder firmly. "He won't be a match for us."
Hikaru ground through the gears again to get into fourth so he could up his speed a little. He smoothed a thumb along the ragged plastic covering of the steering wheel. "I hope you're right."
The sun still peeked over the tops of the trees when Hikaru pulled the truck into his grandfather's driveway. "We've got to hurry."
Akira rolled his eyes. "It doesn't have to be burned in daylight."
Hikaru narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't hurt." He pulled a folded up piece of newspaper from his pocket and unfolded it by the corner of the driveway. Folded inside were several thin wood shavings. Without words, he took the box of rock salt from Akira and opened it while Akira worked on opening the other packages. When they were all open, Hikaru pulled a lighter from his pocket and sparked the start of a flame that he put to the edge of the newspaper. As is blazed up, the two men sprinkled a small amount of each kind of salt on the fire. The flames turned different colors as the fire consumed the fuel, then gave a final burst of flame before calmly dying in a pile of ash. Hikaru stomped the ashes with his booted foot and looked to Akira. "Let's get ready."
Rock salt went into their jacket pockets and the hems of their pants. Akira held the bag with the packages while Hikaru grabbed a container of gasoline. Hikaru double-checked that his lighter was back in his pocket and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly enough that he felt the warmth of it against his own face. "Ready?"
"Yes." Akira tucked one hand into his pocket and pulled out some of the rock salt. "Let's do this."
Hikaru opened the front door and paused while Akira threw his handful of salt. Then Hikaru took the first few steps inside and turned on the lights. Akira followed him closely and closed the door behind him. As Hikaru ventured forward, Akira grabbed for the iodized salt from the bag. He began by pouring a line of it in front of the door, then on the window sills. The small grains caught the light from the setting sun and shone with a hint of orange. He took a handful of it and scattered it in the pathways that led to the other rooms, then watched as Hikaru came down from the attic carrying a goban. "That's it?"
Setting it down on the floor, Hikaru pointed. "Do you see the blood stain?"
Akira looked closely at the top of the board, but saw nothing until he touched the side. The red stain came into full view. "If my father finds out about this, he's going to kill me."
"Why? Because he's the grand master of go or something? If he saw this thing, he'd get over it fast." Hikaru lifted the goban again and slid it into his grandfather's fireplace. Grabbing the box of kosher salt, he tossed several handfuls over the top of the board, then grabbed the can of gasoline and doused the top. The grains of salt still stuck to his hands dug into his flesh. Out came the lighter from his pants pocket. It flickered to life and Hikaru touched the flame to the side of the goban quickly. It was enough to catch the fuel alight and Hikaru stood back to watch it for a moment. "Huh."
Grabbing the iron poker from the side of the fireplace, Akira stood next to him. They watched for a moment as the laquered surface of the board bubbled up from the heat. "This is too easy."
"I was just thinking tha- Ungh!"
Hikaru fell backward as a tall ghost attacked him, ethereally beautiful even with rage billowing around him. His long hair and formal clothing seemed to drip with ghostly water that fell as bursts of bitter cold on his skin. "Akira!"
Akira reared back with the poker and swung it through the ghost's non-corporeal body. It hissed and disappeared, leaving Hikaru panting on the floor. "Damn it!"
"How is it not the board?" Akira handed Hikaru the poker and grabbed the ash shovel for himself. "This man died at this board, right? He left his DNA behind on it. What else could be holding him here?"
Hikaru hissed as he heard the floor creaking behind him. "I don't know, but we'd better find out." He pulled a handful of the rock salt from his pocket and threw it in the direction of the creaking. The laughter that filled the air chilled him to the bone. "Mister Ghost, I hope you're ready to go to the great beyond now."
"Here." Akira handed him a small flashlight. "Go back up in the attic and see if you missed something." He held up the shovel and his expression hardened. "I've got this."
Pausing for just a moment to watch Akira, Hikaru gave a curt nod and ran toward the attic stairs. He was only a few steps up when he felt something grab at his ankles, but the ghost let go quickly when an iron shovel cut through him. This ghost was strong if it didn't have to wait very long to attack again after getting sliced with iron. What was he looking for that would cause that kind of hold? Hikaru climbed the rest of the steps quickly and turned on the flashlight before plunging into the darkness. He was careful to avoid the broken glass of the light bulb that was scattered over the floor; the very thing that had alerted his grandfather to the otherworldly presence in his attic.
He could hear Akira's grunts as he attempted to fend off his attacker, as well as the sound of ceramic shattering. He seethed a breath through his teeth and looked again at where the goban had been. The only things left there were the two dusty go ke and a piece of cloth that had covered the board.
Hikaru wrenched open one of the go ke and examined the black stones inside, but he had no idea what he was looking for. He spread the cloth out and dumped the contents of both go ke onto it. A quick examination of the go ke revealed nothing of importance. There were no strands of hair or bits of fingernail or skin cells or drops of blood. Even for revenge, ghosts didn't hang around unless there was something physical to tie them to the mortal realm. Was it just the go ke themselves?
Then Hikaru took a second look at the stones. One white stone seemed a little different from the others.
With horror running through him, he picked it up and held it close to the flashlight's beam and swallowed heavily. That would do it. Hikaru palmed the stone and ran back down the stairs.
Akira, at this point, had run out of easily accessible salt. He'd already grabbed the box of kosher salt from the mantle and tried to capture the ghost within a ring of it, but it had been too fast and too angry and simply too much. He had blood dripping down his face from being smashed into tables and walls. Iron barely slowed the ghost down; it was a wonder Hikaru's grandfather had managed to live so long with such a hostile spirit inside of his home. He heard Hikaru's feet on the stairs and looked up gratefully, which was just enough of a distraction for the ghost to knock him backward with more force than ever before. Akira fell backward and hit his head against the coffee table.
Hikaru screamed, "No!" as he watched Akira fall to the floor, unconscious. He jumped past the last few steps and landed heavily on the ground. A jolt of pain raced up his legs. "Leave him alone!"
Hikaru grabbed at the salt in one pocket, clawing desperately to get as many of the large grains as he could, and shoved it in the face of the ghost. But instead of the usual ghostly screams and ectoplasmic goo coating his hand as the ghost fled what was supposed to be a sign of purity, Hikaru only felt overcome by sadness and loss.
He had been cheated and everything had been taken from him. The only thing he had left was the game, and there was no one who would play. He took a step into the river, gasping for breath as the cold seemed to slice through him. His body fought his intentions as he struggled to keep his head under the water, managing only at the last moment before his mental defeat to achieve his physical defeat. He gasped for breath immersed in the ice cold water. The pain was coming in flashes of bright light and he fought them with anger about his situation. As his spirit left his body and he became aware again, though he couldn't tell how much time had passed, he watched in horror as the very man who had Scheated him desecrated his body.
Hikaru fought the feelings of the ghost and the moments of his death. He grasped at the white stone still in his hand and took slow, heavy steps toward the burning goban. The scent of the smoke from the kaya wood tickled at his nose and brought tears to his eyes that trailed down to his jaw and dripped onto the collar of his jacket. He was almost there. But the feelings were overwhelming: there was the joy of finding the first man who could see him, and the frustration of being incapable of holding the stones himself, and the anguish of losing the man to disease with the future pulled suddenly from him once again. The longer the memories that weren't his went on, the harder it was to push forward and away.
He tripped suddenly on the paper bag and fell on it. The last small package inside popped out, scattering its contents. Hikaru jammed the fingers of his left hand in the salt and pulled them up to his mouth, letting the flavor overwhelm his senses. The gentle flavor of briny sea exploded on his tongue as the sharp crystals dissolved. It pushed the ghost far enough away from Hikaru's own soul that Hikaru was able to force his way up and take the last few steps forward to slam the stone down on the burning slab of wood in the fire with a resounding pa-chi.
It was only a moment before the ghost released him completely and stopped holding onto the mortal coil. Hikaru pulled his hand from the fire with a wince and tried not to look at the burnt flesh. It didn't stop him from feeling it. He drew in deep breaths of air warmed by the fire blazing in front of him. It took several long moments to make his way to Akira and several more before he could lift his arm to jostle the other man's shoulder.
"Akira." Hikaru tasted salt again, but this was from the tears that were cascading down his face to pool in the corners of his pained grimace and trickle onto his tongue. "Akira!" His unburnt fingers scrabbled at the back of Akira's neck and lifted him up into a sitting position. "Damn it, Akira. I need you to answer me."
There were several long moments of silence before he saw Akira's chapped lips move and saw his eyelids flutter open heavily. "What?"
With a laugh, Hikaru used his uninjured arm to pull Akira into a quick embrace. "Are you okay? I need you to drive."
Akira struggled to sit up of his own volition. "What's wrong with you?"
"Burnt my hand." Hikaru didn't bother to hold it up. The thought make him queasy.
"Doing what?" Akira sat forward and glanced at the hand dangling at Hikaru's side and frowned.
Hikaru took a few more deep breaths and tried to focus on anything but the pulsing heat that seemed to have infested his flesh. "One of the stones was made of bone. The ghost possessed me before I could toss it in the fire. I had to slam it down. You okay to drive?"
Akira touched the back of his head gingerly and winced as his hand made contact with a bloody gash. His hair was matted down over it with coagulated blood. "I'm not feeling any fresh blood and my vision isn't blurry. Get up."
Hikaru stood woozily. "I think I'm starting to go into shock."
"Hikaru, focus. Get to the truck and get in. Think about something else."
"I'm not sure I can."
Akira smiled. "Sure you can. Think about what other line of work you want to get involved in after this. There's more to life than destroying ghosts and killing demons."
Hikaru looked wistful for a moment. "Y'know, we should get your father to teach us how to play go."
Go to opponent's entry: Round 2 - Kyuba, "Oral Sex and Tears Taste Kinda the Same", Fic & Graphics (●)
Go to vote: Ichigaya vs. The White Suit Society - First Board Match
no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-07-27 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)- kakari
no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-07-27 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)- Muraki
(But, seriously, thank you!)