[ Typically, Miyuki makes a point to avoid shrines. Kannushi. Miko. Onmyouji. It's not so much that he's a youkai that gets up to much trouble, really - he's more of a trickster than a threat, in the grand scheme of things - but more that he doesn't want to run the risk of finding himself face-to-face with someone that doesn't care about the differentiation. But it's hard to miss smoke, even from a distance. Especially from a fire that's obviously so vicious.
Everyone talks about it, a whisper on the wind that travels. A shrine, up in flames. No one knows why. No one knows how.
He's curious, but not stupid enough to go seek it out when it's so fresh. Which is, of course, why fate delivers someone in such official looking garb directly at his feet. He'd just been minding his own business, and then all of a sudden there was someone there, and he looks - worn. Dead in the eyes, a little. And smells of something foul, fouler than charred clothes and smoke.
He should leave him there.
After a moment of regarding his figure, he sighs to himself, and he doesn't. He reaches down, grabbing him by the back of his robes and hefting him up effortlessly to get him up enough to scoop him into his arms. He'd throw him over his shoulder, but he doesn't want to risk getting hit with that sword. But he's not about to leave him out in the middle of the forest, not when there's always something darker than the sea of trees itself out there, waiting to prey on unsuspecting humans. One so badly worn? Won't stand a chance.
Never let anyone say Kazuya doesn't have a heart in there. ]
[ Being carried through the forest feels like a dream. Eijun's not quite unconscious, but he's close, everything blurry around the edges, fuzzed over by the haze of exhaustion and the dark cloud of the curse. It feels dreamlike, slow and a bit sickening, like gravity's not working quite right, to be pulled up, held in someone's arms. Eijun thrashes weakly, a futile attempt to escape, some lingering sense of the panic that had sent him stumbling into the forest rousing itself, but even in his best condition, he'd be a poor match for a youkai's inhuman strength. As it is, his struggles amount to barely more than tossing his head and letting out a low, pained moan before he subsides, head falling to rest on Miyuki's shoulder.
He stares up at Miyuki, eyes unfocused, blinking blearily a few times before his gaze sharpens, actually taking in what he's staring at. ]
You— You have to help them. The shrine, all the priests—
[ His voice, already raw from inhaling too much smoke, fails him. Eijun's cut off by a thick, clawing cough that wracks his whole body, has him turning his head enough to bury it against Miyuki's shoulder in an attempt to make the hacking stop. ]
[ With how futile the efforts are, Miyuki doesn't quite register them. He ignores them, mostly, as he just adjusts how he's holding Eijun instinctively to make sure that he doesn't go tumbling out of his hands. He's still aware of the sword, but his focus is moving to put him somewhere safer. Maybe close to the next human village? Being near that smoke, in these robes, probably wouldn't be the wisest choice. Whatever burnt down that shrine would, likely, go to neighboring villages around it.
And where there's smoke, there's fire, and almost always the cause of said fire. Powerful youkai or not, he's not about to turn around and square off against whoever - or whatever - might have caused the fire. Not when he has no ties whatsoever to the people there, and when humans haven't done him many favors.
This is just a single act of kindness. ]
If there's anyone still there, there's nothing I can do about it. [ He at least shifts to let him cough into his shoulder, continuing to pick his way through the trees. ] Just pray there are other survivors that got away, like you did, because that's about all you can do.
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Everyone talks about it, a whisper on the wind that travels. A shrine, up in flames. No one knows why. No one knows how.
He's curious, but not stupid enough to go seek it out when it's so fresh. Which is, of course, why fate delivers someone in such official looking garb directly at his feet. He'd just been minding his own business, and then all of a sudden there was someone there, and he looks - worn. Dead in the eyes, a little. And smells of something foul, fouler than charred clothes and smoke.
He should leave him there.
After a moment of regarding his figure, he sighs to himself, and he doesn't. He reaches down, grabbing him by the back of his robes and hefting him up effortlessly to get him up enough to scoop him into his arms. He'd throw him over his shoulder, but he doesn't want to risk getting hit with that sword. But he's not about to leave him out in the middle of the forest, not when there's always something darker than the sea of trees itself out there, waiting to prey on unsuspecting humans. One so badly worn? Won't stand a chance.
Never let anyone say Kazuya doesn't have a heart in there. ]
no subject
He stares up at Miyuki, eyes unfocused, blinking blearily a few times before his gaze sharpens, actually taking in what he's staring at. ]
You— You have to help them. The shrine, all the priests—
[ His voice, already raw from inhaling too much smoke, fails him. Eijun's cut off by a thick, clawing cough that wracks his whole body, has him turning his head enough to bury it against Miyuki's shoulder in an attempt to make the hacking stop. ]
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And where there's smoke, there's fire, and almost always the cause of said fire. Powerful youkai or not, he's not about to turn around and square off against whoever - or whatever - might have caused the fire. Not when he has no ties whatsoever to the people there, and when humans haven't done him many favors.
This is just a single act of kindness. ]
If there's anyone still there, there's nothing I can do about it. [ He at least shifts to let him cough into his shoulder, continuing to pick his way through the trees. ] Just pray there are other survivors that got away, like you did, because that's about all you can do.