Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sitting by the table, Kiun watches as the young lord persistently draws the same jagged image over and over again. Many discarded scrolls are strewn across the table as he desperately continues drawing, paying no heed to Kiun’s presence beside him. The room is engulfed in silence. Only the brush’s strokes provide any relief from the intense quiet

The lord isn’t a particularly talkative child. He was taught by the surviving shinki to still his tireless body and smother his child-like curiosity, lest he get punished for behaving out of line. For this reason, this child spends most of his time in quiet solitude, making himself smaller so that the full weight of the elders’ disapproving frowns won’t fall on him. Sometimes, however, he is forced to face their burning unforgiving gazes regardless of how well he’s behaved that day. When this happens, the lord withdraws into himself and obsessively draws until he can breath again. Kiun always makes sure to be by his side on these days. On the worst of days, when the lord rips apart his drawings and begins to cry, Kiun hopes that his presence can at least provide some form of comfort.

Today was not like that. Takemikazuchi has been obsessively drawing for the past couple of hours, but his breathing is calm and there is no sign of tears.

Earlier, when studying the lord’s progress in his calligraphy, Sekiun had made a single scathing remark: “This is nearly unintelligible. Kiun, are you actually teaching him how to write or are you illiterate yourself?”

Kiun looked away from Sekiun’s glare as a hot burning feeling made its way to his face and his fist clenched into his clothing. Yes, the calligraphy was bad, but any child just beginning to learn how to write would create equally unreadable script. With time and practice, the lord would get better. His eyes land on Takemikazuchi, whose gaze was glued to a spot on the opposite wall. His shoulders were hunched together, as if he were trying to disappear into thin air.

Why must they be so unfairly harsh with a child?

They had been left alone after that, and the lord wanted nothing else but to draw.

“What are you drawing?” Kiun finally asks after a long while.

The boy’s shoulders tense and the brush’s movements stop abruptly. There is a silence that stretches out uncomfortably for a couple of minutes. Just as Kiun is beginning to think he is being ignored (again), he hears a small voice speak. “I’m drawing you, Kiun.” Kiun couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared involuntarily at that. Despite that, he didn’t fail to notice the way Takemikazuchi’s eyes refused to meet his own.

“That… is very kind of you.”

Chapter Text

Takemikazuchi walked as quietly as possible through the estate, the dark halls illuminated only by the moonlight creeping in from the windows. The walls were thin and he couldn’t risk waking up any of the elders— he feared what they might to do him if they caught him. He’d be lucky to get away with just a verbal lashing. They might decide he wasn’t worth the effort and kill him again, even. Takemikazuchi held the fan to his chest tighter at the thought of it. 

He was going to attempt to summon lightning tonight. 

He had read the hidden scrolls for days, weeks now. He had taken care to memorize every detail from the scrolls his predecessor wrote, every line of every kanji seared into his brain. He never knew when the elders would find him reading those scrolls and take them away from him forever, after all. He could never figure out if it was Takemikazuchi who they hated or just his predecessor. It almost made no difference to him, seeing as how the elders treated them the same anyway.

Stepping into the pavilion leading into the untamed, overgrown, neglected gardens in the back, Takemikazuchi recalled something that almost made him want to turn back to his room and not even attempt this. His predecessor had written very specific instructions in these scrolls detailing how to summon his lightning, as well as stories about his great battles and the gods he befriended and antagonized. All of this very detailed and written in simple language, simple enough for a child to read. Almost like he knew he was going to die. 

Shuddering, Takemikazuchi pushed the train of thought away, not wanting to think too deeply about this when he was about to attempt something the elders would definitely have his head for. 

Finally, he reached the gardens. These were behind the main estate, and covered in overgrown grass and cattails. Everything in these “gardens” was in ruins and they had been like this ever since he could remember. He briefly wondered if they were ever going to bother to rebuild it. It’s not like the elders really bothered with anything else in the estate that didn’t involve Takemikazuchi kneeling before the graves of deceased shinki he couldn’t remember killing anyway. 

Suddenly his insides twisted and his heart twinged in guilt. No, that’s not any way to think about the dead, especially when they died because of you, he chastised himself. He didn’t like the elders, but he knew they had his best intentions at mind. They didn’t want him to become a monster like his predecessor. 

Suddenly, like hot scalding water, he regretted ever leaving his rooms, regretted ever having read those scrolls and even thinking of attempting to summon his own lightning. It’s a betrayal , he thought frantically, they tried their best to raise me and now I’m undoing everything they worked for. His eyes watered and his faced heated up and his breathing was shaky and his vision blurred and his body shook as he kneeled on the ground and tried to stifle his crying. 

He could hear Sekiun admonishing him already. Stop it, gods don’t cry like children. Especially not you. He felt pathetic and weak and stupid and childish for thinking he should ever summon his lightning after everything he did.