That Fateful Day

"There comes a time," your old man wheezes, lying in his deathbed on the table, not because he was actually dying, but perhaps because he was dramatically dying, "when you must take over the family name. Our family name. You kids these days, just slacking off, making your father ashamed off you, you don't even do the homework, if I didn't know better I would-"

- He breaks off into dramatic coughs as one of the house maids pours him some Skull Brandy. "I would kick you both out. Kids these days, slacking off, making your father ashamed of you." He takes another sip and then strokes his long white beard that is trailing on the ground, tied up into a braid at the very end. "So that's that. Out you both go. Out. I want you to discover the world for yourself. I'm tired of pampering the both of you I mean look at your - is that blood on your suits - we talked about cleanliness, also do something about those suits, if only your mom was here she would be so ashamed..."

He continues to ramble, and now seems like a good time as any to escape.

You are apprehended about five seconds later by the butler. The mansion is huge, and you know all the nooks and crannies, you and your (non identical) twin brother. You know the secret corridors behind the winding staircase, you know the shortcut portal that leads to the whomping elk behind Nightmare Hill, you know each and every of the 666 rooms, 444 gardens, and 333 kitchens. You know the estate because technically each of you own half of it. Which is sort of awkward as 333 does not divide evenly by half so one of you would get the fridge and freezer while the other would get the oven for that kitchen.

"I'll see to your packing, young masters," says the butler, a tall morose sort of raven demon. "I hope you do behave. Oh, and one more thing." He pulls out a long officious form. "Your father has modified his will. He says until the two of you discover how to discover true Fear he is taking you both off the will. The first person who manages to harvest a phenomenal Fear will also inherit your father's entire will instead of half." There was a long pause and a snap as he rolled up the will. "Good day."

 ☽ ⛥ ☾

Zenko - Black Kitsune

The words fell like stones upon his heart as he watched his father’s melodrama unfold before him and he soon found himself focused upon his shoes; studying them as though one of the scuff marks held the key to putting a stop to all of this. It was at the time that his father mentioned the blood they were covered in that his eyes slid to the stain on the side of his foot. Thoughts of events that had taken place earlier in the day began to bloom in his mind as he recalled stumbling upon Yako haphazardly mutilating the chickens owned by one of the grounds keepers, a man who had fowl in his bloodline and would undoubtedly be distressed at the loss. He had attempted to shift his brother’s focus, to make him leave the birds alone but he received a bloody mess being tossed at him and a comment about his weak tendencies in place of respect or acknowledgement. Still he would not tell his father of this for he would never rat out one he thought so highly of, instead he would bow his head and accept the scolding he knew they deserved.

Despite the slight annoyance he felt toward his father’s theatrics he couldn’t help but to feel a sting at his words. Neither he nor Yako were perfect, but he had spent much time developing the nightmare weaving skills that the Akuma family was renowned for and Yako surpassed him in nearly everything else; nightmare weaving aside. At this point he felt that their father was simply attempting to think of an excuse to send them away, something that he could not begin to understand.

Their father had always been fond of games and trickery, as was the nature of a Kitsune, so there had to be some hidden motive for his sudden urge to exile his heirs. Amidst the hurt and confusion his eyes found his brother’s as he cast a perplexed look upon the face that mirrored his own. Though the light playing off of Yako’s glasses concealed his eyes Zenko could still see that the news had perturbed him. His hand fell short of its destination as he reached for his brother’s shoulder only to be met with the sight of him taking advantage of the hesitation in their father’s speech to make a quick exit.

The yowls of displeasure from the elderly Kitsune fell on deaf ears as he followed his brother’s lead, intent on lending comfort as needed and perhaps receiving some. But that moment of brotherly affection was not to be born as they were brought up short by the odious butler who seemed to be taking much more pleasure in this than was proper as he recited the amendments to their father’s will. It was as though a thick fog parted and allowed for someone to finally read the words on a long forgotten headstone tucked away in the cemetery. The motive behind his father’s speech was finally made clear. It was a game. He was forcing his twin sons to compete with one another for not only their material possessions, but the only world they had ever known. A game. Snipping a sardonic ‘Thank you’ through clenched fangs Zenko turned away and headed toward the lush garden to one side of the estate.

His footsteps echoed throughout the familiar corridors and he found himself gazing up at paintings he hadn’t spent much time observing, and the various sculptures he used to hang off of as a kit and he allowed the realization of loss to sink in. Only, it didn’t. Sure he had spent all of his formative years running around this place, but as his fingers slid across the surface of an intricately painted vase he realized there was nothing new. All of these items had loomed over him as a kit just as they did now, never changing and never inspiring within him a sense of excitement or attachment.

Pushing open the heavy mahogany door leading out into the fragrant air of the garden he discovered something about himself. This place was his home and it held plenty of memories, but it would not devastate him should he lose it. His scarlet eyes peered out into the distance; past the hedges lining the garden, past the trees blocking the estate from prying eyes, all the way to the hazy world beyond. There was more to life than being pampered and indulged; there was adventure and new experiences to be had. Excitement soon replaced the prior devastation and a mischievous smile lit his features. “Discover the world.” He murmured.

***

With a soft yet resounding knock Zenko entered his brother’s room, watching as Yako packed with a fervor that matched his own. “You okay?” He enquired, still wanting to get his brother’s take on the occurrences of the day. Picking up a spare pair of glasses his brother kept on a bookshelf Zenko carried them over and gently set them in Yako’s suitcase. “Together you and I can do anything Yako, you know that. We will figure this out somehow!” Yes he would still go out, attend school to become the best that he could be, and collect fear so as to uphold the family name and put his skills to the test, but as far as the estate went no matter the outcome it would go to his brother. Yako was the eldest and most deserving, there was no way he would intrude upon his brother’s birthright; he respected him more than that. He may have been the younger of the two, but that did not stop him from wanting to protect his twin, his other half.

Little did he know of his brothers true intentions and of the trials and tribulations to come that would shape his future and force him to grow up.

☽ ⛥ ☾

Yako - White Kitsune

There was a lull; silence filled the air as the words of the senile old man sunk in. This was not one of the worse things that father had done in the past. His deplorable brother looked at him, as if he wanted some sort of comfort. As the black kitsune reached out toward him, the white kitsune turned his back, trying to escape the drama before him. Just as he began to turn away to enter the corridor leading to his room, Nox, the butler appeared to read the will.

Well, well… what a fascinating turn of events, annoying as hell, but fascinating just the same. He could now become the sole beneficiary of the estate; he would no longer need to play nice with Zenko as he secretly plotted his “accidental” death. That would come later, for it was no longer a pressing matter, but it was an entertaining one to contemplate.

Yako pushed his glasses up on to the bridge of his nose with his index finger as he walked to his room. He could murder his father, but since the senile old fox had written both of his sons out of the will, it would only hinder Yako’s future plans. Although the plan was tempting and would pacify his rage, he placed it aside as he concentrated on his next plan of action. It was sudden this announcement, and this removal from the estate, but it needed to be done. The white kitsune had been planning for months on leaving the Akumu estate in order to acquire more skills and knowledge.

His gloved hand twisted the golden nob of the door that lead to his room before he was disowned. It was an immaculate space; everything was in order and nothing strayed from where it belonged. A trunk lay across his gran ornate bed, it was already partially packed. Nox, the lazy beast had only done a minimal amount for he knew it would annoy the meticulous and orderly Yako. Quietly he began to open his drawers and place his belongings into the trunk ceremoniously. He smoothed out each folded suit and separated his shoes from the clothing to prevent dirt from contaminating the white.

Contamination… the thought made him look down at his blood covered suit, he wrinkled his nose in distaste, for he had made mess of his favorite suit. He had a fascination with blood, how it pooled and coagulated, how it ran warm and how when scared, it pumped rapidly through the heart. That was where he was before he was so rudely interrupted by Zenko bearing news of father’s summons. With his hands covered in blood from the chickens, the white kitsune reached for his brother and wiped the warm liquid upon the pristine black suit. The red was not as noticeable against the black as it was with the white he wore. It was beautiful, the patterns the blood splatter made, one could be lost in the art of it.

Removing himself from his memories, the kitsune began pacing in his room. He had applied months ago to Amityville Academy and of course he received the acceptance letter. He is not one to fail, he excels at all he does except the crafting of nightmares. His brother, the runt, has the ability to weave powerful terrifying nightmares. Yako’s skill in this field is lacking, but he is able to scare the humans better than his brother, but yet his brother receives the praise and the adulation. Yako balled his hand into a fist; his black gloves prevented his nails from drawing blood from his palm. He would not let the worthless pup beat him, if his brother gets close to harvesting phenomenal fear, then Zenko will not live to see the next year. That thought brought a smile to the lips of Yako. Death and destruction, wonderful commodities to have at one’s finger tips.

The knock removed the smile the kitsune previously bore; he turned to face the intruder. Is he okay? What kind of question was that? He was just written out of the will and removed from the home that rightfully belonged to him, all necessary things for his plan to prevail, so he was ecstatic but also peeved. He gave a noncommittal shrug, “I’m fine. Father sure knows how to stir things up, doesn’t he?” His eyes watched as his brother placed his glasses within the trunk, he was so careful, so caring. It made Yako sick. “Heh. I am sure it would piss off the old man if he knew we worked together to accomplish the components outlined in the will.” Yako had no intention of working with Zenko, but if it would help him to accomplish his overall goal, he would not hesitate to use his brother. Zenko was completely blind to the hatred that had been building inside his older brother and one day he would learn the harsh truth. Until then, Yako would bide his time and continue to use his brother. All was going according to plan.