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Chapter Text

Touya squinted, his eyes instinctively protesting against the barrage of golden light as he stepped out from the confines of the castle. It had been quite some time since he’d been in Ningenkai. He’d been a lowly aspiring apprentice, helping his master bedevil some fool humans who were ignorantly straying towards one of the few natural portals between the human world and Makai. Back then, the landscape stretched out before him in what felt like an endless sheet of ice. The backdrop of the sky had been inky and black but there was a strange kaleidoscope of colours dancing overhead, twirling and intertwining like iridescent ribbons.The frozen landscape caught the meager light and did its best to reflect the display right back to the sky. In the distance he could see the silhouettes of two human ships, motionless and silent, entombed in a solid sheet of ice. Most of the humans aboard slept, secure in the mistaken belief that soon warmer weather would come and the winter ice would finally release its hold on them. Above the ships and the ice and the lights were stars… So many stars! Cloudless nights were a true rarity in Makai and Touya had never had an occasion to glimpse the night sky, to fully appreciate the celestial bodies, strewn out like jewels against the night sky.

Touya had been mesmerized until a harsh word from his master had snapped the young demon back into focus and he’d scurried after his master without another thought. But the moment stayed with him, seeped deep into his consciousness, and for years and decades afterwards, it would resurface in the fleeting moments as he drifted in the twilight seas that existed between wakefulness and sleep.

And now, a century later, he had finally returned to the Ningenkai– not as an apprentice but as a full shinobi. This version of the human realm was far different from the one that had long ago taken root in Touya’s dreams. It was verdant and bursting with life! Touya looked around, amazed at how beautiful the colors seemed. The shinobi leaned against the rough stone balcony of the castle, drinking in the scene eagerly. He had no idea there were so many shades of greens and blues! The trees seemed to sway as one, dancing in the warm breeze blowing in from the turquoise sea. Above them, a blue sky unfurled itself into the distance, marred only by fat white clouds which seemed to race one another across the horizon.

“Beautiful.”

Behind him, Risho’s voice was soft. He sounded almost in awe and Touya reluctantly turned his attention away from the idyllic scene before him to look back at his comrade. The earth master had emerged from the depths of the castle, wiping the last of the blood off of his hands with a silk handkerchief. It was often hard to get a read on what the other demon was thinking, even after a century and a half together, Touya never got the feeling that he witnessed any emotion that Risho did not wish him to see. But now? Risho’s eyes were wide, taking in the panoramic view that stretched out before them. The cynicism that so often hardened his features were gone and Touya couldn’t help but wonder at how young he looked without the usual facade. It was his first time in the human realm– Touya imagined that he had looked much the same when he’d first stepped out into the icy tundra a century earlier.

“It is beautiful,” Touya agreed after a moment, turning back to the landscape as Risho moved to stand beside him. Risho’s hands planted themselves on the stonework of the balcony as though he intended them to take root there, his body leaning forward into the warm sea air. They sat in companionable silence, both contemplating this strange, foreign world before them.

“The air seems much thinner here,” Risho said after a moment, filling his lungs with it experimentally. He wasn’t wrong, Touya noted. The air in Makai was thicker, laden with heat and humidity, blood, miasma, and discord. Even breathing felt like a battle there.

“Jin doesn’t seem to mind.”

As if to punctuate Touya’s statement, there was a distant echoing whoop and both shinobi looked up in tandem. The redhead was barely visible at first, a mere dark silhouette against the pale blue sky, dropping like a stone towards the sea. Then he seemed to stop himself in midair about 20 meters from the water before turning and shooting off, paralleling the sea and coast. The displaced air pressed downward, causing the water underneath it to crater and explode upwards, white seafoam and turquoise water reaching up to greet the long gone Wind Master. If Touya listened closely, he could hear a few chords of a song… It had been so long since he’d heard Jin sing.

“He should be more discrete,” Touya stated, frowning a little in worry. This was not their land and as idyllic as the moment was, it would be foolish to forget that.

Risho chuckled.

“Relax Touya. We’ve left no one alive to bear witness,” he retorted, turning his head to look at the Ice demon appraisingly. Touya felt his cheeks redden, though he refused to acknowledge the attention, choosing instead to keep his eyes fix to Jin’s acrobatics in the air.

“Be that as it may…We shouldn’t linger here,” Touya said in response, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned to face Risho, who actually looked taken aback.

“What exactly do you fear?” He asked, sounding almost affronted at the idea. “The humans? We can kill the lot of them before they could reach for their weapons.”

“That’s not the point,” Touya said before falling silent. He stood there, skin warmed by the alien light of this strange world, contemplating the scene before him. Risho, who by now was used to this habit of Touya’s, sighed and waited for the ice demon to speak once more.

The breeze blew in from the sea and Touya wasn’t sure if it was from Jin or if it was from Ningenkai itself, but it felt warm and inviting. Enticing and enchanting. From somewhere below him, Touya caught snatches of Bakken’s boisterous laughter dancing around Gamma’s lighter protests. For just a moment, Touya allowed himself to indulge in the idea of remaining. Of claiming this castle for themselves, of waking every day to this. He closed his eyes and chuckled… Risho really was a bad influence on him, it seemed.

“It’s not our world,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets as he turned his back to the sprawl of the Ningenkai landscape. Away from the light and warmth. “Shinobi were never meant to exist out in the open.”

Risho scoffed, grabbing his shoulder and turning Touya back to him. Touya met his gaze, resigned to the indignancy he found there. After nearly a century together, Risho was hardly a mystery. Risho had not been born to this life, Risho always wanted more, could never understand the importance of tradition.

“So what? You spent your entire life perfecting your abilities and for what purpose?Just to give others power?” Risho demanded.”Why not us? Why are we the only ones undeserving of the reward? Of this?!”

“Because we are Shinobi. That is our fate” Touya’s tone was firm, brokering no argument. His eyes narrowed on Risho, betraying his irritation. Risho met his gaze, defiant as only someone who had clawed his way from oblivion could be. Touya admired and hated that quality of Risho’s in equal measure.

“You managed to break into a world that you did not belong to, Risho,” his tone was chipped and icy, and Touya drew up to his full height as he spoke, his shoulders squared as he faced Risho. “But you must be aware of the fact that your ascent is the exception. Not the rule. Not even you could be so arrogant as to expect fate to bend to you twice.”

Risho’s expression hardened, his lips pressed into a thin line. While there appeared to be any number of retorts Risho wished to fling back in reply, he seemed to think better of it. Confident that the moment had passed and the conversation was over, Touya strode back into the gloom of the castle without another word. He turned his back on the light and the warmth and the freedom. And in the darkness, he could almost believe in the words he had spoken. Could almost believe that this was what he wanted.

As he closed the door, Touya chanced one last look at his teammate. Risho had turned back to face the sea. The sunlight bathed him, and Touya noted how the golden light seemed to dance along the strands of his raven hair.

It certainly suited him…

Chapter Text

“Again!”

Touya and Risho looked back at one another, exchanging a tired look before they seemed to straighten in tandem.

“You know… somehow I thought that once we gained mastery over our specific arts, we’d be able to take it a bit easier,” Risho panted as he ran a hand through sweat stained hair, the strands clinging to his flushed skin. Touya spared him a sympathetic glance, stepping closer and allowing frost to cover his hand before resting it lightly on Risho’s forehead. The taller demon let out a soft sigh of relief.

“There’s no room to get soft as a shinobi,” Touya reminded him with a small smile. “In our line of work, there is no such thing as stagnation” His hand slipped from Risho’s forehead and came to rest against Touya’s back, clasped with his other as though at attention.

“Yes, I know. You are quite fond of reminding me,” Risho replied, straightening as well, feeling the weight of his master’s judgement boring into him. After so long, he could almost recite the admonition in his head. A lazy shinobi is already dead, they just do not realize it yet.

He turned back to face his more diminutive teammate, a smirk curling his lips. Around them, the rising generation of future shinobi murmured and whispered among themselves. The sound of 30 or so voices washed over Risho, even if the individual words escaped him. Watching the current technique holders spar was always a highlight in the students’ schedules. It was designed to showcase each technique, to show the myriad strengths and uses for each as well as to inspire the students to continue to raise their own abilities and discipline.

Already, the potential successors had been winnowed down from an initial class of 100 demons– most of whom were born and raised into the life. The class would be slashed even further before new successors would be chosen. Given that 15 current techniques would be up for grabs in the next 25 years… Well, as Touya was so fond of saying, there was no room for mistakes.

You win or you die.

“All right Touya, let’s see your best this time, yes?” Risho taunted lightheartedly. He settled into his fighting stance; the movement felt like second nature after so many years.

Touya’s expression remained stoic, but Risho caught that gleam in Touya’s gaze. No matter how the Ice demon liked to pretend, he hated to lose every bit as much as Risho did. Of course he did. There was a reason Touya claimed the title of Ice Master, and it had nothing to do with his family’s influence. Good. Risho felt a small shiver of excitement run through him as he met Touya’s gaze. There was something thrilling about facing the normally composed Ice Master– of bringing out an inner passion that so few were able to draw from him. It was a reward all on its own.

“You know the rules,” one of the elders said from the side of the training ring. “This is a spar, we are not fighting to the death. You are to submit once you recognize your defeat.” She turned her gaze onto their audience. “Winning a single battle means nothing if you are unable to support your team and complete your assignment. Shinobi must be strong, yes, but they must also be strategic. The honor of victory means little if you die. Recognizing when you are outclassed is a vital skill that any shinobi must master.”

Risho let out a scoff, his mind drifting to Bakken, before he realized what he’d done. Hurriedly, he pretended to cough as an attempt to hide his slip. If the old woman noticed his irreverence, she certainly didn’t let on.

“Very well you two… begin!”

Touya was in motion before Risho could blink. The temperature around them was already plummeting as the very water vapor in the air seemed to crystallize and draw in towards Touya, as though magnetically attracted to him. Risho swore and ducked down. His hands crashed down against the earth below him and caused it to rise up as a rough barrier. Risho winced, hearing the soft thuds as Touya’s ice shards imbedded themselves against the hardened clay.

“You rely too much on your projectiles, Touya!” Risho called out, calling the earth and stone around him to climb over his arms, legs and chest. It hardened stronger than traditional plate armor. “They lack force and without that, you need the element of surprise on your side!”

“And you talk too much, Risho!” Came the retort from the other side of the wall. Risho chuckled, he certainly couldn’t argue with Touya there. It was a common critique from the shinobi leaders… Verbosity is not a valued skill for covert operations. Around him, the air was growing heavy with a mist and Risho shivered. Touya had been taking cues from Bakken it seemed. However… he hadn’t realized one of Risho’s own tricks as of yet. Or at least, Risho hoped not. The demon closed his eyes, his hand pressed to the ground as his youki spread over it and intertwined with each particle of dirt.

There! Touya’s footfalls were feather light, but it was impossible not to feel the impact of each one against the ground. It was his first time testing out this new use of his power, but so far it was proving to be plenty useful.

Touya seemed to push off the ground, leaping from Risho’s left. Risho raised his arms over his head, the armor taking the brunt of the ice blade that Touya had attempted to bring down on him. He winced, feeling the force of the contact rattle through his bones– the effect magnified by the chill settling into his body. He felt… achy… lethargic. More so than what he’d come to expect from his time battling in lowered temperatures. His eyes widened as he met Touya’s gaze, and caught the smirk that flirted with his features. Where Risho had fused the ground with his youki, Touya had infused the very air (or at least the water suspended within it) to focus the effects of the cold.

Risho’s manipulated the earthen armor, allowing the ice sword to sink into it. With Touya’s sword trapped in in his bracer, Risho pulled his arms up and over, looking to throw the smaller demon over him and fling him to the ground. Once there, Risho could entomb Touya in an instant.

… Or at least that was the intent.

Touya’s next move was pure acrobatics, so fluid and so fast that Risho didn’t truly process it until much later. Even as Risho swung Touya through the air, Touya seemed to pull his legs forward, until his feet landed square on Risho’s chest. Touya pushed off of him with a single sharp kick, his hand pulling free of his own trapped ice sword. Risho, who was completely caught off guard, stumbled backwards, knocked off balance, and ended up on his back. He laid there, numbly blinking up at the fresh ice sword being pointed directly at his nose, hovering mere millimeters from his skin. Slightly out of focus, he saw Touya standing over him, his expression grave.

“You’re finished, Risho,” his voice was soft, but there was a chill to the finality in his tone.

“You’re getting a lot faster at making those damned swords,” Risho groused, grimacing up at the Ice master before holding up two fingers up in the accepted gesture of surrender.

Touya’s expression broke into a rare smile, and suddenly the Risho no longer felt the sting of defeat quite so acutely. Touya’s sword began to disintegrate and turn into a steam of water vapor, leaving no trace of the weapon that just a moment before was poised to skewer Risho. With his weapon evaporated, Touya held out his hand to his defeated foe.

Risho took his hand, his long fingers wrapping around Touya’s hand with ease as he levered himself back to his feet.

The warmth of Touya’s skin seemed to seep into Risho’s fingers, settling into his very bones.

It turned out that even he could learn to enjoy a loss if it came with such a pleasant consolation prize. Risho thought to himself, even as the old master began her analysis of the fight.

He caught Touya’s eye and spared him a small smirk. Touya seemed to smirk in response.

“Same time next week?” He murmured as they bowed in reverence to the elder.

“It’s a date,” came the wry response.