Using steemit to fund self publishing?

My friend has worked on his novel for 5 years now, and now that it is finished, he has started looking at ways to fund the art and self publishing for the book. We started a kickstarter campaign for this, but being the hermits we are, promoting this campaign is somewhat daunting.

Then I noticed steemit while wondering around the cryptocurrency reddit pages and though that this could be a really good avenue to gauge interest in his work. We are working on getting the book illustrated right now with an amazing artist (see her work below), and getting a first run of hard copies printed ourselves. He really wanted to avoid traditional publishers to keep as much creative control and brand direction as he could moving into the future.

Thanks to the internet, there doesn't seem to be a need for these traditional services and middlemen anymore. So I present chapter one of Kainashi: The Stolen Flame

Please spread the word if you enjoy his work, and check out the kickstarter below to follow our progress.
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/teamkainashi/kainashi-book-1-the-stolen-flame?ref=nav_search

The sky was empty.
An endless void of overcast while the gloomy residue of a stormy night lingered in the stagnant air. For as long as anyone could remember it was always the same gray smear that stretched across the horizon; seldom breaking yet never changing, with only the bleak glow of a smothered sun to part the night from the day. No one was sure why or how, it was simply one of those truths people grew tired of challenging.
Today not only was the sky empty, but heavy with ominous purpose as it loomed over a field of charred grass and the quivering purple-cloaked figures that sat beneath it in neat rows. At the very front stood an old man with jagged tufts of silver hair that stuck out defiantly from both sides of his otherwise bald head. He was the only one with the audacity to leave his hood down. On his right was a table filled with cards that obscured a single picture frame in the middle. And on his left was a crude hole in the ground.
“All living things...have a purpose…” He drawled. A roll of thunder answered him as whispers broke out among the crowd.
“I can’t believe it...she’s really dead. And they didn’t even show up?” A girl hissed.
“I know… poor Ka-chan, if she’s watching right now she must be heartbroken…” A second girl answered.
“Do you know why she did it?” The first girl asked. “She didn’t seem unhappy! She was always laughing and smiling… if we’d known...”
A middle-aged man between them rolled his eyes. “Is Hanako paying overtime for this? ‘Cause if not, we’re going home! What was she even thinking doing this outside!? We’re ALL gonna end up just like her daughter at this rate!”
His outburst caught the attention of a little boy in the front. The kid scowled back at them before he turned his head to the mask in his lap. A young man beside him peered down at it over his glasses. It was truly a hideous thing, but Kotaro didn’t have the heart to tell Kenji that. The boy spent hours carefully painting in horns, fangs, and a swirl of ghastly colors until a monster’s face stared back at him. Kotaro attempted to snatch it from him on the way over but every time he did, he’d start crying. It was easier just to let him have his way, especially now.
“...may Tezma open its gates to her.” The priest finished just as thunder soaked the air above. Kenji hopped from his seat with the mask in his hand and his hood shielding him from points and stares. He approached the priest at the front and the man’s face betrayed some shadow of disgust before it turned into a practiced smile.
“Did you make this all by yourself? Or did your father back there help you?”
“RAIN!” A woman shrieked in the crowd and toppled her chair over.
“I FELT IT! RAIN! IT'S COMING, IT'S COMING! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!”
That was all it took to whip them into a frenzy. Dashes of black fell from the sky onto the rotten earth beneath their feet. Smoke flowed from their ponchos as the people transformed into a stampede of screaming bodies all crashing into each other. The priest grabbed the mask and chucked it into the hole where the casket waited, then dropped the lid down over it.
“HEY!” Kenji ran forward only to be snatched by the hood of his poncho. It flew off and a mess of cherry red hair spilled into his face. He turned behind him. Kotaro held his hood firmly and scooped him up under his arm.
“KENJI, WE GOTTA GO! IT'S NOT SAFE!”
“--I DON’T CARE, HE DIDN’T DO IT RIGHT!”
He thrashed in Kotaro’s arms. The graveside grew smaller in his vision as the man sprinted toward the car.
“STOP IT, LEMME GO, I GOTTA DO IT RIGHT TARO-SAN!”
All he could see was the black rain pounding harder, the shadow of it's aura grazing the ground as smoke, and a priest who turned his back for the safety of his tent…
[---]
Kenji opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the reflection of an exhausted teenager looking back at him in the car window. Somehow he’d managed to fall asleep with his head between the wood-trimmed armrest and the pane. Judging from the way his neck hurt and the cheek-print that stained the glass, he’d been out for a good while.
Kenji slumped back. It was pitch black outside, so much so that even his red hair nearly blended in with the leather seat. “Blood red” was what Kotaro called it, with a certain amount of trepidation. How anyone could think Kotaro was his father was something Kenji never understood. First there was the issue of skin color. Kotaro and his mother were pale, he was not. His skin was more like sand on the beach than anything else, almost gold in the summer time, but it was obvious even in the back of a dark car as he watched the glow from Kotaro’s dashboard wash over his reflection.
It wasn’t the first time someone thought they were related, merely the most unsettling.
“Aaah, you’re awake! We’re almost there, home stretch!” Kotaro cried from the driver’s seat. Like usual, his dusty black hair was slicked back and cropped neatly at his neck. Kenji caught the time in the reflection of his square glasses. It was almost five in the morning.
“...How do you have this much energy?” Kenji yawned.
“ADRENALINE!” Kotaro grinned, “Aren’t you excited to see it!? Somaka City is the capital of the empire! The place where everything started! And we’ve finally got a permit to live there!”
He wiggled his fingers. “Woohoo.”
“That was pathetic.” Kotaro smirked at him in the rearview mirror. “You sound like you’re dying.”
“I feel like I’m dying.” Kenji grumbled, and regret it as soon as he saw Kotaro’s smile drop.
“What’s the matter?”
“Can’t talk about it.” He said, more bitterly than he’d meant, and unzipped his hoodie to reveal a black tank top. It hugged him too tightly; smooth muscles from years of training pressed against the fabric and he always caught people staring at him. Even Kotaro seemed uncomfortable whenever he was reminded both that they existed and how Kenji got them. He threw his jacket off completely to sprawl across the back seat with his eyes to the roof.
Somehow he could almost hear Kotaro frown. “Oh come on, I changed your diapers for crying out loud! Once you’ve wiped someone’s ass, they should be able to tell you anything.”
“You’ll just get upset.” Kenji replied without looking away from the ceiling. He pressed a button behind his head and a panel slid back above that let him stare through the sunroof into the night sky. The shadows of clouds swirled around tiny pinpricks of light, an ocean of dying stars with puffy waves of black drifting around their corpses.
He sighed. “Taro-san...do you remember when Kanami died?”
The car went silent.
Kenji was suddenly aware of just how alone they were on the endless stretch of freeway.
“Okay….um…” Kotaro cleared his throat. “You were five, it was a couple months after the Blood Tests on the Trail, and your mother had to watch the funeral from a satellite. We uh...tried to...find your dad, but nobody’s seen him since before you were born.”
Kenji motioned for him to keep going.
“...After it was over, your mom locked herself in the estate for eight months. She didn’t let anybody see her.”
“That was after she sent me away, right?” He interrupted with a sudden edge to his voice. He saw the panic in Kotaro’s eyes before he answered.
“Y-Yes, right. That's-- yeah. And uh...that’s all I remember.” Kotaro ended. The electric glow of the dash and passing headlights were the only flares to part the darkness that seeped from the windows.
“Your sister’s death…” His nanny swallowed hard. “...Isn’t something I like to think about, you know? When we found her like that...it was horrible.”
“I was the one that found her.” Kenji corrected.
“Y-Yeah.”
“--And I was the one who read the note.” He drawled.
“R-Right, yeah.”
“What did it say again?” He played with his headband. “Something about not wanting her no--”
“Okay okay!” Kotaro whipped around to face him. “Just stop it, please!”
“You should watch the road.” Kenji yawned again; the apathy of his tone seemed to unsettle the man even more than the subject matter. Out the corner of his eye he could see Kotaro frowning over his glasses, trying to read him, and failing like always, until the honk of a passing truck forced him to turn back to the front.
“...I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Kotaro’s low voice carried over a rumble from above. “You don’t have to be the tough-guy, not with me. I hate it when you do the ‘nothing-bothers-me’ thing.”
Kenji didn’t answer. He was still flat on his back again staring into the sunroof.
“Reading that note...finding her…” Kotaro shivered. “...body like that, it was horrible for all of us. And...you know...it's okay if it still bothers you. It still bothers me too, and your mother.”
“It doesn’t bother me anymore.” Kenji answered right away with that same nonchalance. “I’m over it. I was five, now I’m fourteen. People die everyday. That’s just...how it is.” He ended with a half-shrug.
Kotaro frowned at him in the mirror. “Okay, then why’d you bring it up?”
“Just had a dream.” He answered curtly and hoped Kotaro would let it drop. He didn’t.
“...Right.” Kotaro grinned. “He’s having nightmares over his sister’s death almost ten years later, tells the nanny who’s seen his ultrasounds, ‘I’m fine’, while doing the broody teenager let-me-stare-angstily-into-the-dark-and-talk-about-death-because-I’m-so-edgy-and-nothing-phases-me thing, and expects the nanny to believe it.”
Kenji gave him a thumbs up.
“Whatever.”
“I tooooold you you’d get upseeeeet.” Kenji sang. “And it wasn’t a nightmare, Taro-san. I don’t get scared of dumb shit like that. I was just...looking for information is all.” He shrugged again. “I was gonna ask you why I was freaking out back, but then you had to go and talk about feelings and now it's weird.”
Kotaro merged to the right and took a sip from a thermos in his lap. “Isn’t it obvious? Your sister died when you were five! Of course you were “freaking out!” But if there was another reason, then how should I know? You don’t tell me anything.”
The conversation finally died after that and Kenji would’ve felt guilty if he hadn’t just remembered why he often left Kotaro in the dark.
She came unannounced.
His mother, Hanako Takehiro, was much more like a ghost than any dead sister still drifting around. He saw her in pictures, in fuzzy memories when he was much smaller and her smiles were kind, but the last time he’d been in a room with her for longer than a few minutes was almost ten years ago. She sent him away to people who’d turned him into a weapon and raised him on an island lost somewhere in the muck of his memories. Everything, from age six to ten, was like a burn that healed wrong, yet before just now even Kanami's funeral was the same way. He sometimes saw flashes of it, but anytime he reached farther a pain stopped him in his tracks.
Even with years of his childhood lost under a scar, he still carried on like nothing ever happened. And that’s exactly how Kotaro raised him; like nothing happened.
He moved from town to town, school to school, almost once a year; sometimes twice since he was eleven. At first it was frustrating, now he was just bored with the whole thing, even if this move was the most bizarre. His mother appeared without warning in helicopter over the roof. The whole school flooded outside to see the commotion, and she cast one indifferent stare across the crowd before she raised a megaphone to her lips. “WE’RE LEAVING!” was all she said. He climbed up right in the middle of lunch.
No explanation. No hello. Not even an apology for ripping him out of his life again. She just dropped him off at Kotaro’s car, pulled the ladder up, then flew off ahead. Kenji scowled as he took his phone out of his pocket. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway, he only had one friend to say goodbye to and even calling her that might’ve been a stretch.
He looked down at his text messages from “SUZUMI-SENPAI”
[SUZUMI: “HIRO-KUN!!]
[SUZUMI: “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE RICH?!”]
[Me: Yooooooou didn’t ask?]
[SUZUMI: “NOT FUNNY! :( I’m really going to miss you. We barely even got to train before you had to go! And you KNOW there’s nobody else like us in Unabara Town. Who else can take my punches without breaking in half?”]
[SUZUMI: “And you’re HANAKO’S KID?!!? I forgot she even HAD a kid!!]
[Me: “So did she”]
[SUZUMI: O_O oh. Well I mean, she is like a big deal so of course she’s super busy. She’s one of the richest people in the whole country!! Ugh you’re so lucky. >_< You probably get real food and stuff all the ti- WAIT A MINUTE!!!!]
[SUZUMI: IF HANAKO’S YOUR MOM, WHO’D SHE-- YA KNOW!?]
[Me: No idea who my dad is. people get upset when I ask so I stopped asking]
[SUZUMI: “O_____O;; O-Oh...sorry!! I didn’t know! Wow, there’s so much about you I don’t know...and now you’re gone :/ ]
[Me: And now I’m gone. :D]
Kenji let his phone drop onto his stomach. A flash of red and the rumble of thunder turned his attention back to the skylight. Splotches of black pelted the glass and caused faint green runes to web out across it. Within seconds the black rain cast a shroud over the freeway to kill every light from outside their windows. Even though it was deadly and disgusting, he couldn’t help but feel soothed by it's sound.
There was a reason she knew nothing about him. Everyone knew his mother as the real-estate tycoon who dragged herself to the top of Somaka’s elite, yet he was her best kept secret. Kanami was the child she wanted; he was the child she needed. The heir and the spare. The worst part was he didn’t even know what she did beyond “real estate.” Now that his sister was gone she had no choice but to bring him back. Most of the time he felt like just another piece of her luggage. When those thoughts crept up on him he’d just look at his headband to drive them back, but lately even that wasn’t enough.
What was there really to even say about him? He was a bastard with gaping sores in his memory and a revolving door of acquaintances he stopped trying to get to know. His mother was rich. His nanny was nice. He had clothes, food, all the freedom in the world, and that meant he was supposed to be happy. The end. It was only when another flash of red lightning cut through the sky and the dashboard went dark that he came out of his trance.
“Great, now the GPS is shot.” Kotaro growled and pulled over to the shoulder. “Call your mom for me and tell her we’re caught in the rain. See if she made it there alright.”
Kenji looked down at a short list of contacts. The letters “MOM” were oddly intimidating. With a deep breath, he sat upright and held it to his ear.
“Hello, this is Osami Yurokawa speaking how may I direct your call?”
Kenji scowled. He wasn’t about to play phone-tag just to ask a question. Not at five in the morning.
“Put Hanako on”
“Who is this? And how did you get this number? This is a private line, not a toy.”
“Who am I?” Kenji blinked. “Who’re YOU? You’re not my mom’s secretary.”
“Tonight’s my first night actually, but even I’m not dumb enough to fall for that. Hanako-sama’s only child died years ago! And it's disgusting of you to dishonor the dead like that! How did you even get this number anyways? This is a PRIVATE line.”
He squeezed the phone tighter. “...Look. I’m tired. And you’re annoying. Just run along...and tell her Kenji wants to talk to her. She’ll know who I am.”
“I’m not going to bother her for some prank. Goodbye.”
Click.
The screen of his phone went dark. He stared at his own reflection, and caught Kotaro looking at him from the front seat.
“...She hung up on me.”
“Now...Kenji…” His nanny said cautiously and held his hand out. “Just...give me the phone a--”
He hit redial.
“Hello, this is Osami Yurokawa speaking how ma--”
“--DID YOU REALLY HANG UP ON ME?!”
“Kid, it's five in the morning and you’re making prank calls. Why don’t you get a life?”
“WHY DON’T YOU DO YOUR JOB?”
“KENJI!” Kotaro yelled from the front seat.
He groaned. “...Okay that was rude and I apologize…” He ran his hand through his hair. “Can you just tell Hanako that Kenji needs to talk to her?”
“I can’t. Not unless you’re on the approved callers list. She hasn’t mentioned ANY kids aside from a daughter that died years ago. There’s NO PICTURES of ANY kids besides a DAUGHTER that died YEARS ago. She hasn’t mentioned a “Koji” at all, there’s not even a Koji saved in her phone.”
“KENJI!” He screeched. “KENJI TAKEHIRO!”
“Ta-what? I don’t recognize that name.”
“TAKEHIRO! TA LIKE IN TALL KE LIKE IN KEG AND HIRO LIKE HERO! HOW DO YOU NOT RECOGNIZE MY NAME WHEN IT’S THE SAME AS YOUR BOSS’S YOU STUPID MOOK!? UNLESS YOU--”
Click.
“HELLO?”
His phone went dark again.
It was moments like this that reminded him he wasn’t a people person.
Kotaro glared at him quietly from the front seat and pulled out his own phone. “When we get to the new place, you and I are going to have a talk about your attitude.”
“She started it…” Kenji grumbled in reply. Of course Kotaro got through with no problems. Of course he apologized and within a few seconds he was laughing with his mother’s new lapdog and quickly connected to the woman herself, all while Kenji tried to ignore the heat rushing to his face.
Were there really no pictures of him anywhere?
‘It doesn’t matter.’ He reminded himself, ‘You’re here aren’t you? What more do you want?’
Again he stared into his own reflection in the black screen of his phone, only now there were violet lights near his head. He squinted into the screen and saw the window was blocked. He turned around.
Mere inches away from his neck, a hooded figure pressed up against the window with pulsing violet eyes underneath their cloak.
“TARO-SAN!” Kenji screamed and scuttled across the seat.
Kotaro flashed him that I’m-on-the-phone shushing look every adult had down to a science.
“TA. RO. SAN!” Kenji kicked his seat and sent the man almost slamming into the steering wheel.
“WHAT? Can’t you see I’m on the phone?!”
Kenji jabbed at the window, and for a long while Kotaro did nothing. He sat in the front gazing into their shimmering purple eyes while the black rain drowned their cloak in its sludge. Without another word he ended his phone call and turned back around.
And unlocked the doors.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Kenji screamed.
“They’re...caught in the rain...they need help…” Kotaro’s voice was a whisper against the storm. He sounded like he was drunk and mumbling in his sleep.
Kenji frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”
He never got the answer. The door opened and the cloaked figure crawled into the backseat with every ounce of their garb caked in a goop he could barely call water.
“Thank you for stopping...I’d been out there for so long!” A woman’s voice came from underneath the hood. She pulled it down to expose a mess of brilliant silver kinks. Her tightly coiled hair spiraled down her back and he saw that the ends were an almost glowing electric blue. Her eyes that were once beacons in the darkness now looked every bit as normal as his own. Her skin was dark and rich like the wood-trimmed hand rest he was now practically sitting on, and when she turned to him (after he’d moved all the way to the other side of the car) her smile was wide.
“It’s no problem!” Kotaro answered, his usual voice now back in full force. Kenji furrowed his brows together but said nothing.
“You’re actually just a few miles away from Somaka City. The welcome station is off the next exit, if you’d like to wait out the storm.” The stranger replied without breaking her plastic smile.
“Awesome!” Kotaro laughed, “You’re more than welcome to tag along! And don’t worry about him.” He jabbed his thumb at Kenji fuming in the corner. “He doesn’t bite. He’s mostly harmless.”
The two of them chuckled while Kenji’s glare just intensified.
For a short while the three of them rode in silence. The stranger kept her eyes fixed forward with a pleasant smile resting on her lips. Kotaro hummed to himself as he now drove through the black sludge effortlessly, even as it caked his windshield faster than the wipers and runes could drive it away. Occasionally the woman would turn to Kenji and her smile would deepen, even as his hands clutched the pocketknife in his shorts and his own eyes dared her to inch one finger too close.
He studied her the whole way. There was something off about her, something he couldn’t place. She sounded just like anyone else when she spoke, yet there was a certain air to her words. They had a way of lingering in the open long after her lips closed, and her mere presence filled the car with a certain kind of pressure. He could sense it pushing against his head and the back of his neck, until a fine sheen of sweat gathered at the edge of his headband.
‘This energy she’s giving off…’
He turned to face her fully for the first time since she stepped in the car. Her head also turned to meet his at the same time. Their eyes locked, brown and violet piercing into each other in silent appraisal.
‘...It's not natural. And Taro-san…’
He peeled his stare from her to the back of the driver’s seat. Kotaro was too friendly for his own good, maybe even a little childish at times, but he wasn’t this stupid. He wouldn’t have picked up some stranger in the middle of a storm. He wouldn’t have been oblivious to eyes that glowed in the dark when the mere mention of such things was enough to make him tremble. And he wouldn’t have let her casually sit in the back with him knowing full well who she was and where they were going.
Kenji’s eyes narrowed. “Stop the car.”
Kotaro kept humming.
“...Taro-san. Didn’t you hear me? I said, stop the car!”
Kotaro did nothing, and the woman beside him giggled.
Kenji whipped around to her. “What did you do to him!?”
Casually, she moved a strand of hair out of her face. “Well aren’t you a handsome little fella! You’re gonna be a knockout when you get older!” She winked, “What’s your name?”
“Get out.” He pulled the knife from his pocket. “Now.”
She didn’t seem bothered. “Well that’s not very nice.”
“I’m not going to tell you again, I will throw you from this fucking car.” His grip tightened. “Get. Out.”
“But...we’re already here.” She said innocently then pointed out the window. “See?”
“Huh?” Kenji turned. The car was in a parking lot with countless others. He didn’t remember them pulling in, or even turning off the road. Again the stranger giggled at the look on his face and stepped out of the car. Robotically, Kotaro did the same and Kenji had no choice but to follow them.
Somaka City’s welcome station was a monument that resembled a small coliseum from the outside. It was an oblong glass building of three floors with rows of wide windows wrapping around the front that stood at the end of a long path of stairs. Kenji, Kotaro, and the hooded stranger started on the path framed by two massive statues.
A stone dragon and a phoenix, both with wings stretched high, heads bowed low, and glowing eyes that welcomed all who began the path. There was a silver plaque on each one.
SOMAKA: THE LAND OF PURPOSE
In Death We Rise.
It was then that Kenji realized the rain had stopped. The sky above was a silent abyss of churning clouds with the welcome center serving as the eye. He watched the stranger lead them up the stairs with a simple smile that didn’t falter. Kotaro was behind her, his movements now sharp and deliberate, but with a face empty of all life or emotion.
“Taro-san…” Kenji’s voice broke as he followed the man’s back. “...What is wrong with you?”
He got no reply.
The three of them stepped into the building. The inside was empty of people, there were no lights on, or even bots manning the many service counters that lined the right side of the hall. Nothing but vacant chairs, dark vending machines, blank television screens, and windows peeking out into a storm of red and black. As soon as the double doors slammed shut there was a pulse in the air, a crash from above, and a flash of red shot through the building.
The rain poured again.
Kotaro shook, as if stepping out of a blaze and into a cold shower. The light returned to his eyes for a moment before their look changed and he hugged his chest.
“T-Taro-san?” Kenji called.
“I’m...not feeling well…” Kotaro muttered. “I’m gonna go...to the bathroom…”
He staggered down the hall and vanished from sight. Kenji didn’t even hear a door close, he'd just been swallowed by the dark.
Kenji heard a chuckle from over his shoulder.
“...You…” Heat spread from his chest and into the rest of him. Slowly his hair and clothes fluttered in the breezeless room. Kenji turned to face her. She stood at the end of the hall with her hands clasped calmly in front of her and that same empty smile draped across her lips. He felt himself snapping. “What-- did you-- DO TO HIM?!”
“Your friend is fine, I have no interest in him at all. I just needed him out of the way for a little bit so we could talk.” The woman answered with a yawn. “But if you want to stomp and growl first, be my guest. It’ll be...useful to see how strong you are.”
Now Kenji saw what she was doing. He forced himself to take a breath and calm the energy flooding into his muscles. She was baiting him, trying to get him worked up and sucked into pointless fight. In the past it was a call he answered without hesitation, but this was a new place. A new start. A chance to prove to Kotaro and his mother that he could be better.
‘Calm down...she’s not worth it…’
His hair fell limp again, and with a final exhale, his body relaxed. The woman seemed pleased.
”Good.” She chuckled, “Now t--”
Kenji sprinted away. “TARO-SAAAAAN!”
The stranger watched him go. She waited until he slid around the corner where Kotaro vanished before her lips pursed together in a hard line.

The room exploded into white flames, knocking Kenji to the floor.
All around every door, every corner, waves of white fire danced in front of him. They burned nothing, yet the sheer power they gave off smacked the air from his lungs. Kenji felt the heat in his blood as he stood. Even his bones strained under the waves of searing pressure; like a weight he couldn’t see.
‘This is— but how is she--!?’ His thoughts raced as a lump formed in his throat. The woman's flames were a storm of power, but not a piece if it was connected to her like it was supposed to be; they were conjured from thin air as their own separate entity.
Kenji's stare hardened, he pulled out his pocketknife and got into a low stance.
“Easy now..." The woman cautioned over the roar, "If you’re not careful I could lose control. Then there’s no telling what could happen to your friend in there.”
Again he felt the heat. Again, his own energy stirred and made his hair thrash around his face. And again he had to keep himself calm before he snapped and took her bait. “...He’s a mook.” Kenji finally answered with growing desperation. “He’s not like us, he doesn’t have any power or anything! There’s NO REASON to hurt him, just let him go! Whatever you did to him, just undo it and I’ll do whatever you want!”
The woman smiled again. “While your sense of magical solidarity is...interesting, I wouldn’t go so far as to compare yourself to me.”
“C-Clearly…” Kenji stuttered. His unease made her chuckle.
“Like I said...I have no real interest in your friend, I just want to talk to you. That’s all.”
“So talk.”
She calmly gestured to a pair of armchairs next to the wall of windows and sat down without waiting for him. Kenji still held the knife in his hand and went through every maneuver he could think of, yet they all ended with him and Kotaro being killed before his blade even reached her throat.
He had no choice but to play along, and so he plopped down in the chair across from her, just as another flash of lightning lit up the room.
“What you did back there…” Kenji folded his arms. “...I just don’t understand how. That’s not possible. It shouldn’t be possible, not even for us, no matter how strong you are.” He looked straight into her face. “What are you?”
“Afraid.” She answered simply.
Kenji scoffed. “Your power fills up an entire room, you could kill anyone just with the pressure! What do you have to be afraid of?”
She laughed at him again. “So you think having a little power makes you invincible? You really are a kid.” Her hand came under her chin and her smile widened. “Your family has money and you’re obviously well taken care of; I could ask you “Why’re you unhappy, what do you have to be unhappy about?”
“I am happy. I don’t have anything to be unhappy about.”
“I see.” She grinned, “Well it's good that you’re so sure of yourself! In times like these, not all of us have that luxury…”
There was crash of thunder from outside and a for a moment the woman just stared at him without moving. His brown eyes were harsh and angry; she suspected they’d been that way long before she set foot in that car. How long she couldn’t tell, but the aura he gave off told the same story. His skin was somewhere between tan and gold, like sand baked in the sun, and it went well with the red of his hair; the kind of red she’d only seen in blood and fruit. If it weren’t for his face, he could’ve passed easily for sixteen or seventeen. His shoulders were broad for his age and his tank top didn’t leave much to the imagination. She’d expected someone with darker skin, brighter hair, and less muscle spilling across their body; but since when was life ever that simple?
“...Why’re you staring at me?” Kenji asked.
“Oh, nothing.” The woman answered, having come out of her thoughts. “You just...look a lot like him.”
“A lot like who?”
She didn’t reply. Instead she turned her head out the window and watched the black rain slide down the glass. “...Tell me something...do you know why the rain is black?”
Kenji shook his head. “No and I don’t care. I just stay out of it.”
The woman seemed to be expect this answer. “They say...that it’s the blood of demons, as part of mankind’s curse for neglecting the gods. Rain falls down from a crack in the sky somewhere...killing what it can’t corrupt...corrupting what it can’t control...twisting everything into a wicked shadow of the sin in man’s heart.”
She hung her head down and let her silver ringlets droop over her face. Her voice grew quiet as she hugged herself in the darkness. “I bet a long time ago...this planet used to be so beautiful. A sky with a blazing sun...fields of endless life with trees and flowers painted every color...and now it’s this. This grayed and decaying husk.”
Another roll of thunder shook the sky outside. The woman lifted her head and gestured to some paintings on the upper walls. The most prominent one was a scene much like the one to their right. An open field shrouded in darkness with a blanket of black clouds churning overhead, only inside of the clouds a pair of wide glowing eyes loomed above the storm as dashes of black pelted a rotting earth below.
“...I want to know how you feel about that. Please. It’s...important to me.” She murmured.
Kenji had never been one to respond well when put on the spot. He didn’t know what she was trying to do or why, but her monologue stirred something within him and his next words came effortlessly.
“...The black rain, the kainashi curse...the Onibi Clan say all of it is a test we need to overcome. Megumi ruined it, but we can save the world by getting stronger and slaying evil. The last demon was killed 600 years ago, so once the kainashi curse is broken for good, they think the rain might stop too.” He ended with a weak shrug.
The woman’s smile changed into something he couldn’t read. “...So...you think this has something to do with Megumi?”
“Doesn’t everything?” He asked, and she threw her head back and laughed. When she finished, she looked straight into his eyes again.
“I didn’t ask...what the Onibi think. I asked what you think. Do you have a mind of your own? Or are you just a puppet trained to recite the canon lore?”
Kenji wanted to be offended, but her response caught him off guard too much.
“I don’t...know?” Kenji shrugged again. “I never really thought about it before. The black rain is black because...it just...is! It kills everything because it just does! That's how it’s always been. Like I said, I don’t really question it. I just stay the hell out of it.”
He paused. He was going to end it there, but he felt a rant coming on out of nowhere.
“But...if this is punishment for abandoning the gods, then it's a pretty shitty one.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“If they’re angry because we stopped worshiping them all those thousands of years ago, and turned all the temples into libraries and everything else, then they need to get off their asses and remind people why they deserve praise in the first place.
“Stop throwing “blood” on us and do something! None of us were alive when Megumi fucked everything over, so why’re we the ones who have to suffer for it? Why does everyone like us have to have this curse on us, when the ones they’re mad at are already dead!? It’s fucking childish!”
Kenji finished with a scowl.
The woman gaped at him with beady eyes and a sheen of sweat glistening on her face. She looked equal parts terrified and furious and he didn’t care. If she was going to kill them both, he just wished she’d hurry up and get it over with already. Yet, when his new friend replied, it came out in a broken sputter he strained to hear against the storm.
“You realize...of course...that it's the gods and spirits, as well as your ancestors...that ultimately decide...your fate.” She swallowed. “You may not need them...but their Eyes watch you still...even if you have a pinch of their stolen power, do not forget who controls the gate.”
Now he was getting annoyed. “And don’t you forget, it's deeds that get you through that gate and a decent afterlife; not speeches. I prove I can handle this power and those gates will open. That’s what it's all about right? Impressing them. Doing what Megumi couldn’t. As far as all the other stuff goes...compared to fighting a demon, I think I can stay out of the rain.” He smirked.
Finally she relaxed. And that same smile from before returned. “...I see.”
Slowly she stood and smoothed the wrinkles out of her cloak. “You can call me Kit. I’m sorry about how I had to go about this...I just...really wanted to meet you. At least once.”
“...Why?” Kenji made a face. “I’m nobody important.”
She didn’t respond. Instead she pulled a phone from her pocket and pressed it into his hand.
“...You...took my phone?! When!?” Kenji pat his shorts down. Surely enough the pocket was empty.
Kit smiled down at him. “You have a very nice friend...make sure you look after one another. Now, more than ever, it's important to know who you are and what you believe in.” She started walking down the long hallway toward the entrance. She was only a few feet from him, but she seemed so much farther. Her form was harder to make out. The more he tried to look, the more of her seemed to slip away into nothing.
“...Oh, and...please don’t die.”
She opened the door and stepped into the night.
BANG
There was a lurch in the air.
The lights turned on, and he was surrounded by people and noise. There were bots manning the welcome station counters, handing out brochures and offering tours of the statues upstairs. There was a “SOMAKEN CUSTOMS” video playing on all the screens in the lobby, where at least fifty people waited. Kids ran around with balloons and clothes that were bone dry. The couches that were empty only a second before, now housed drowsy travelers nodding off.
“W-What...the...fuck…?” Kenji stuttered. He stood up from the armchair and looked at the nearest clock. It was almost six in the morning.
Kotaro approached him from around the corner holding a handful of snacks. “Hey kiddo! You ready to hit the road? We’re almost there! The new place is about 20 minutes away, but we should hurry if we wanna beat the morning traffic.”
Kenji said nothing. He was losing his mind. The welcome station was empty only a second ago, and now all of these people and lights just burst into being as soon as Kit left.
Kotaro cocked his head to the side. “Kenji?”
Kenji craned his head up at him. “Taro-san...do you...remember...that lady?”
Kotaro scratched his head. “What lady?”
Kenji ran a hand through his bangs. “I….I….”
“...What’s wrong with you? You look like you just woke the dead.”
Again Kenji shook his head. “Was this...like this...when we came in? All these...people and lights?”
“...Uh...Yeah?” Kotaro raised an eyebrow. “Are you feeling alright?”
Kenji pushed past him and power walked out the door. The sky above was clear, and same ocean of swirling stars greeted him as before. The ground wasn’t even wet. Kenji felt like he was going to faint. He had a few screws loose, he knew that, but this was on another level.
He followed Kotaro to the car and reclaimed his place in the backseat. The two didn’t speak as they pulled from the station and back onto the open highway. Kenji sat, just as he did before, with his cheek pressed up against the glass, only now he was more than wide awake.
‘What...the hell...just happened?’
[---]
Elsewhere, two lone figures trudged through perfect darkness, the only light was from the violet glow of their matching mosaic eyes.
“You’re playing a dangerous game…” A man’s voice started. “Do you have any idea what’d happen if someone caught you meddling?”
The second figure clutched her cloak tighter around herself. “Some things need to be meddled with...I thought that was why we were here.”
“HA!” The man laughed as they approached a large door easily the size of a skyscraper. “No one understands that better than me, but sometimes playing god isn’t always the answer.”
The two of them got down on their knees and cupped their hands together. A pair of brilliant white flames bloomed in the darkness; the edge of the woman’s spiraling silver kinks danced in their light.
“Yeah…” She whispered. The door in front of them changed. Intricate violet patterns swarmed across it and swirled into a human eye that consumed their path. It's pupil glowed with iridescent energy that wafted over them, sucking their flames into itself.
“...No matter how careful you are...you always get burned.”
The door swung open. A light too bright for words slammed into their faces. The woman took one step forward before the man’s hand stopped her.
“You can’t go in looking like that. Have a little respect.”
She smiled and threw her cloak to the ground, revealing a waterfall of silver curls. Her body drowned in white flames, shrinking and elongating, until a shadow of writhing tails danced in the spotlight.
Without waiting for her partner, she stepped through it.