Innocent Sacrifice - 6. Chapter 6

Atoki had sent him home from the library with his little box of basic writing supplies, a selection of the best papers he’d had on hand, and three books in Chinese, which were all he had that Su Yin thought might be useful. Atoki had explained he had taught himself first Japanese, then Chinese, in the years after he’d come to hell, and thus most of what he had was designed for non-native speakers. But the scavengers weren’t hugely accurate a lot of the time, so there were two books on advanced calligraphy full of strict exemplary works from which to copy, and a beautifully illustrated eighteenth century copy of Wu Cheng’en’s Journey To The West. Su Yin had read parts of the book before, mostly from abridged pamphlet versions, and the idea of having access to a full copy Atoki had told him no one else would read this century, was deeply exciting.

He was out of sight of the library, but not yet near enough to Xingjhao to be safely home, when his pace slowed, and a prickling sense running up the back of his neck told Su Yin he was not alone. He turned, every muscle tense, but instead of seeing a gang of bigger boys, intent on teasing him for his dedication to his studies, there stood a demon who made Zhihao look practically human by comparison.

Su Yin had read stories of demons who appeared as part human, and part snake, but the figure before him made all those paintings pale into insignificant water colours. His broad chest sat atop the body of a huge diamond patterned snake, his neck and smiling face framed by a scaled cobra hood. When he smiled, every single one of his teeth were sharp and pointed. Su Yin gulped, and wondered if it was possible to outrun such a creature. Blink fast, the snake moved, coiled body slithering across the rough gravel, until he was within arm’s reach. Su Yin backed away.

“Well, well,” the snake demon hissed. “Such and delicious little morsel wandering around all alone. Your master should have known better than to let you out by yourself.”

Su Yin continued to step backwards, until the ground under his heel shifted, and he turned to find himself at the edge of the path, teetering on the edge of a scree slope which dissolved away into a rivulet of hot magma. Cold fear wound through him, nothing like the fuzzy sensation of unease he’d experienced around Tobias, but a knife edge which promised pain and misery in the near future. Not for nothing though had he survived in the foundling home with less than what might have been considered his fair share of beatings, and Su Yin gripped his parcel of books tightly, ducked under the snake’s arm, and dashed away.

He was cut off by the heavy coil of the demon’s body landing in front of him, tripped as the scales tried to ensnare his feet, and ran headlong into the body of another scaled half-snake creature. He screamed.

“Darvi!” The newcomer with the green and yellow scales hissed, his voice full of anger. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Playing with my food,” the one named Darvi replied with another deeply evil smile. He slid close, reached out and closed a big hand around Su Yin’s upper arm. Su Yin tried to pull away, but the big demon was too strong.

“No! Let go!”

“Let him go, Darvi. He’s not yours to play with.”

The snake spat between clenched teeth, his long tongue flicking at the hot air.

“You can’t claim to have seen him first, Inai.”

The big green and yellow snake gripped the other demon’s wrist tightly where he held onto Su Yin’s arm. Su Yin stared up at the pair of them in terrified fascination as Inai squeezed the other snake harder and harder, until the demon had to let him go, pulling away and shaking his hand with a scowl. Inai placed a firm but gentle hand on Su Yin’s shoulder.

“He’s not mine either, Darvi. Have you gone blind, or did you not notice he belongs to someone else.”

“Phtt!” Darvi spat dismissively. “I can slay his trickster easily. It won’t matter.”

Inai growled.

“I outrank you Darvi. Fuck off. If you bother him again, I’ll take it out of your damn hide.”

“You’ve gone soft Inai, living with all those sissy boys.”

The big green snake didn’t waste time with a hissed retort, but struck with a speed which made Darvi seemed sluggish by comparison. His long scaled body shot past Su Yin, pinned the other snake to the ground, and used one big, clawed hand to shred one side of his hood. Green tinted blood stained the ground, and Darvi roared in pain. Inai glared after him as his slithered away.

Inai turned back to him, and Su Yin shivered again.

“Are you alright? Darvi is a prick, he should know better. Word’ll get around soon enough, and no one will bother you if you’re out alone.” Inai seemed to notice that Su Yin still hadn’t said anything. “Hey, kid? You OK?”

“He-he-he w-was going to eat me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re like him.” Inai was as similar to the other snake as Wei Xian was to Zhihao. “Do you eat people too?”

“Only prey,” Inai shrugged. “I will accompany you home.”

“Oh.”

Su Yin wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt about walking side by side with the towering snake creature, but Inai had defended him, and he didn’t see any other reasons to being particularly scared.

“Jin-Ha told me you were pretty, I was sure he was exaggerating.”

“You know Jin-Ha?” Su Yin was surprised. He couldn’t imagine the diminutive kitsune and the giant snake having anything in common.

“Well sure. He’s the best company this side of the fire mountains.” Inai smiled openly as he spoke, and though his mouth was filled with sharp teeth too, there was no malice in the expression. “You should ask him to help you with your calligraphy.”

“Huh?”

“His room is full of little boxes like that.” Inai gestured to the slim container of brushes and ink. “Only reason he bathes so much is because it would be too unseemly to go Upstairs with ink in his fur. Precious thing that he is.”

They were within sight of Xingjhao now, and Su Yin felt much safer in the presence of the familiar red and white architecture. The house in which he lived was so very different from the others in the inner circle, but Su Yin found it comforting. Even after only a week, Xingjhao felt more like home than the dormitory ever had. His snake-like companion stopped at the first stair, resting back on his thick scaled coils. Su Yin hoped up two steps and turned to Inai, wishing he felt less short.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome.”

He moved to turn away, then paused.

“Inai? Why did you help me?”

The snake seemed surprised by his question.

“We nagas might have a reputation for violence, but we believe in honour. Or at least, some of us still do. Your demon claimed you, gave you protection for all to see.” He gestured to the string of gems and beads around Su Yin’s neck. “And let everyone know you were his. What Darvi did was just damn rude.” Inai grinned, forked tongue tasting the air. “And I can’t pretend it was totally selfless. Ain’t no secret Nassau is fond of the kids who fall in love. Saving you is gonna be good for my career.”

“Oh….” For some reason , Su Yin hadn’t expected the naga to be honest. “Thank you.”

“Just come buy me a drink at Snakes and Snakes, hey kid?” Inai smirked. “And ask Jin-Ha to teach you how to hold a brush properly. He’s a good guy, he ain’t gonna bite you.”

Su Yin watched the naga turn and slither away until he was out of sight, then trotted up the steps and into the big open foyer of the house. He slipped off his shoes and left them in one of the little compartments which lined the nearest wall, then sat and washed his feet before wiping them off with a small handful of silky white powder. He padded softly into the house, but stopped before he reached the staircase, and left his new possessions on the bottom step before heading towards the kitchen.

Wei Xian was reclining in an easy chair of a strange tall design with which Su Yin was not familiar, and was polishing the curved, leafed shaped blade of a sword with carefully considered movements. Another flat tipped dadao sword rested on the low table in front of him, waiting for its turn to be cleaned and adored. Su Yin said nothing as he crossed to the covered hot plates. Zhihao had shown him the basics of how the kitchen worked, so he could help himself to food whenever he wanted, and though Su Yin could not fathom how the fire was always ready, and why nothing ever needed cleaning, much of it was similar to the kitchen in the foundling home.

Su Yin filled the tin kettle from the well pump, raised the thick stone cover of the flat hot plate, and set the water so it would boil as he readied a small round-bellied teapot with a bamboo handle, and two matching tenmoku cups on a small round tray. There were several teas in large jars arranged along the back of the main counter, and Su Yin sniffed each one before selecting the sweetest smelling leaf. He remembered what Atoki had said about the leaves being grown in the outer circles, beyond the great walls of fire which ringed the world. Su Yin wondered if there were demons who spend their lives bent over in the fields, collecting tea, harvesting rice, and feeding livestock just like the farmers did in Loashan. Many of the boys from the foundling home had gone to work in the fields, but Su Yin had never envied their simple lives. He had wanted to be like the monks who sat outside Taiqing and practised their writing, making beautiful patterns on paper, but their lives were boring too, full of rules and periods of long silence. Su Yin didn’t mind silence, but he wanted it to be on his terms.

He made up the tea, then made sure he stood where Wei Xian could see him before he cleared his throat. The demon finished wiping his sword, and smiled.

“Good afternoon.”

“Hello. Do you know if Zhihao is upstairs?”

“He went Upstairs for a spell. Said he’d be back by dinner time.” Wei paused. “I talked him out of coming to find you at the library, you don’t mind do you? He didn’t like the idea of you coming back to find him gone. But I can see you’re a big boy, you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you. Would you like some tea?”

“No thank you, Su Yin.”

“See you later.”

Su Yin held his packages under one arm, balanced the tray of tea in the other, and went up the stairs with quiet feet. On the first landing, he took the left hand passageway, rather than continue upwards, and knelt by the white paper door of Jin-Ha’s room. He knocked on the bamboo frame with his knuckles, and waited. When the kitsune slid the door open, he was also kneeling, dressed in a short white cotton cape with a red ribbon tied at his neck, his long fluffy tail twitching in curiosity.

“Su Yin… come in.”

Jin-Ha bowed slightly, stood on his dainty paws, and beckoned the boy into his rooms. The décor was subtly different from the apartment he shared with Zhihao: more white, one wall decorated with long painted scrolls,a traditional futon with a cotton stuffed mattress, and a red and gold screen, half pulled back, revealing a low writing desk and a selection of brushes and inks. The kitsune fetched a little lacquered table and set it out between them for the tea things.

“To what do I owe this pleasure? Ah….” Jin-Ha’s eyes fell on the books and brush Su Yin had placed next to him. “You’ve been the library.”

“Yes. Tea?” Su Yin poured the brewed liquid into the two cups, and sat back on his heels as he sipped. It was different from the one he had drunk with Atoki, more powerfully fragrant, and Su Yin blushed into his cup as he realised the scent reminded him of the oil Zhihao used on him when they were alone together. Su Yin noticed Jin-Ha watching him closely. “Atoki said you might be able to help me.”

“Did he?”

Su Yin took a deep breath.

“I never wanted to be like the other boys, the ones who wanted to work the fields, or go and fight for the glory of China. I liked school, the quiet, the concentration.” He smiled softly to himself. “The sound of ink on stone, brush on paper….”

“But you are young.” Jin-Ha finished the thought for him. “And Zhihao came for you before you finished your schooling, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“I can help you. Come.”

They left the tea, and the books, and Su Yin followed Jin-Ha across his room to the little writing desk. The kitsune tidied several things away with quick movement, and gestured to Su Yin to sit.

“Grind the ink.”

It was a familiar task, and Su Yin used a wide bristled water brush to fill the well of the ink stone, then took a partially ground ink stick, plain and undecorated, and began to move it in a soft circular motion as the water darkened. The Kitsune laid out brushes and paper around him, then knelt close by his side.

“Write me the symbol yǒng, I want to see you practice.”

“Umm...”

“Choose your brush.”

Su Yin selected a large round brush, far finer than anything he had been allowed to use at the school in Laoshan, with a long bamboo body and a tip made of soft white goat hair, and watched as it soaked up the thick ink. The paper Jin-Ha had laid out for him had no guidelines underneath, and Su Yin but his lower lip, brush hovering over the page as he tried to remember everything the teachers had told him. Just as he was about to touch the tip of the brush to the page, Jin-Ha stopped him with a small paw on his elbow.

“Breathe.” His other slim hand came to rest on Su Yin’s chest, over his heart. “Intention counts, young one. Your writing will be nervous if you are nervous.” The kitsune cocked an ear towards him. “Why are you nervous? You wish to impress me?”

Su Yin blushed at the blank page before him.

“Do not worry about me. I am not the one who matters here. You have the brush, the page is yours. Think of what you want.” Jin-Ha’s voice was soft, but entirely intoxicating. Su Yin could feel himself being drawn into the sensation of the kitsune’s breath against his skin. “Yǒng means forever, eternal, permanence. You are here forever now, to be with Zhihao. You chose eternity. Now write.”

Su Yin took a breath, re-settled the brush in his fingers, and pressed the brush to the page as he began to eight strokes of yǒng. He finished the dismemberment stroke, falling rightwards and fattening to an end point as sharp as Wei Xing’s dadao sword, then laid the brush down on the little ceramic rest made in the shape of a fox. He rested back on his bare heels once more, and smiled down at his work. The shape was good, fairly even, though already Su Yin knew the sixth stroke was too long, and overbalanced the piece. It had been too long since he had practised. Jin-Ha took the paper, his slim claws skittering over the outlines of the pictogram.

“You love him.” It was not a question. “But your desire for Zhihao scares you sometimes. You don’t know how to express what you want.” The fox flicked his tail from side to side, dark eyes narrowing momentarily. “You don’t yet know everything you want… I’m sure you’ll discover soon enough.” He laid the paper down on the floor, and placed another on the table. “Your lüè was too long, and you have not enough pressure in the centre of the cè. Again. Hold your brush more upright, like this.”

Su Yin shivered as Jin-Ha knelt with one thigh brushing his own, his other leg tucked up underneath his narrow body. He held Su Yin’s hand, adjusting his grip, and the boy let the kitsune guide the brush to the ink stone, collecting more dye before hovering once more over the paper. The kitsune allowed him to take over as he completed the eight strokes once more, but he did not break the contact.

“Much better,” the little fox purred in his ear. “Your strokes show desire, determination. This is good. Much stronger.”

“Thank you.”

“I will teach you all I know, Su Yin. You many come and practice here whenever you wish, even if I am not home.”

Su Yin turned to the demon, and let the brush slip from his fingers. Jin-Ha took it before it touched the paper.

“And what will you want in return?”

“Nothing.” Jin-Ha smiled. “I see you do not believe me, that is to be expected. I make no secret of my desires. But I expect nothing from you, I will not make any advances. Should you find you wish for more, you need only say so. Talk to your lover, Su Yin, about more than this. He adores you more than you know.”

“And how do you know so much?” Su Yin replied with a frown.

“A man is allowed a secret. A fox? He is allowed many more. Bring your practice sheets when you next come, and take some moon paper with you.”

Jin-Ha moved aside, laid out a sheet of much thicker paper, and began to grind some more ink, adding drop by drop to the large flat stone. Realising he had been dismissed, Su Yin gathered up his things, and the roll of practice paper Jin-Ha had directed him too, and went to collect the tea pot and cups. The table they had sat at was already clear, and Su Yin wondered if he would ever get used to the house tiding up after him. He thanked Xingjhao silently, because he doubted anyone else ever did, and let himself out.

*

Only when he was already prepared and in position did Su Yin notice he had a smudge of black ink staining two fingers. He scowled, but he didn’t want to move, ruin the tableau, and have the possibility of Zhihao entering to find him gone. He had felt the demon’s return in a way he couldn’t adequately explain. It was not like pressure, not painful, there was no sound or voice in his head, but he knew, with astonishing clarity, the moment Zhihao had arrived back in hell. Knowing Zhihao was close made him happy, and that in turn had a rather obvious effect in his crotch. Su Yin had sat on the bed and thought about what the red demon had said on their very first night together. He knew that if he asked, the demon would pleasure him, but part of him didn’t want to ask, not like that anyway.

He’d left one white paper lantern lit, hanging from the mouth of the red dragon on the wall next to the bed, enough to illuminate the important parts of the bedroom. The sliding of the door seemed loud in the quiet room, and Zhihao’s footsteps stilled as he saw Su Yin. When the door closed, the boy shivered.

“Oh my…” Zhihao breathed. “Someone had a good day, I see.”

The big demon’s hand came to land on Su Yin’s upturned cheek with a light slap, and Su Yin whimpered. He quivered with desire, but Zhihao stroked up his spine gently as he moved around the bed, observing his lover.

“I missed you today.”

Zhihao bent, lifted Su Yin’s chin with two fingers, and kissed him soundly. The boy groaned against his fangs.

“I missed you too.”

“I see that,” Zhihao replied. The yaoguai stroked down his back again, and as he kneaded Su Yin's arse, the boy bit back a whimper of disappointment as he realised he’d wanted the sharp warm sting of Zhihao’s palm against his flesh. Zhihao’s fingers pressed against his slick opening, and Su Yin heard the smile when he spoke. “Already prepared for me… such a good boy.” Zhihao bent to kiss the base of his spine before groping between his parted thighs at the warm weight of his cock and balls. Su Yin moaned again. “You’re gonna be the ruin of me, boy.”

Su Yin pushed back against his lover’s touch eagerly as he heard the rustle of Zhihao’s clothes being discarded, and the red demon entered him without preamble. Su Yin cried out, fisting the bedsheets as he was thoroughly reamed in a single stroke, arching his back automatically as Zhihao’s hips were pressed flush with his own. The demon growled, palmed the firm mounds of his arse before taking hold of his hips, pinning Su Yin back against him.

“Nnghhh! Ahhh! Yes….”

Su Yin groaned and hissed between clenched teeth, pushed back against the hot invasion of Zhihao’s cock, wanting everything his lover had to give him and more besides. Knowing Zhihao had thought of him, knowing the yaoguai would make good on his promise to please him whenever he wanted, made Su Yin’s head spin, and his pulse thudded hard along the length of his own erection. He whimpered as Zhihao cupped his cheeks again, then set his teeth in his lip as his lover opened him up with his thick thumbs, and ploughed into his tight passage once again.

Zhihao fucked him in long hard strokes until he came, then pulled Su Yin up, pressing his sternum against the boy’s spine as he rocked into him. Su Yin reached up, grabbed his lover by his long hair, ruining his top knot as he pulled Zhihao down to kiss him. The demon growled against his lips, ran his long tongue over the delicate skin of his neck and jaw, and purred as Su Yin’s body clenched around him. Su Yin’s orgasm made him go weak and suddenly boneless, and he lay back against Zhihao’s chest, panting as his lover stroked his body softly.

“You were very tense. Do you feel better now?” Zhihao cupped his jaw gently, turned his face and kissed him lightly. “Dear one… I have missed you so.”

“Zhi….”

“Do you want to keep going?” Zhihao’s flesh was insistent inside him, but his words were soft and warm against his skin. Su Yin kissed him back with a note of hunger on his lips. Su Yin caught his bright green eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

“Yes.”