He wrapped his cold hands around a ceramic mug, throttling it for warmth. In the early morning hours, Kaji sat in the dining car onboard the Mugen Train where he basked in the golden hour of dawn, which shined through a swath of nature passing by in a blur. The steam from his mug filled the immediate area with the floral aroma of chamomile tea and the spoonful of honey added to make it sufferable. Kaji glanced down into the drink and saw his own face staring back at him; the fatigue was becoming apparent. If you know anything about Mister Okada, it should be that he prefers coffee over tea at any opportunity, but that fiendish bartender was refusing to sell patrons anything without booze in it. Whenever Kaji so much as glanced in her direction he met her gaze and that permanent scowl.
He leaned back into the cushion of the booth, wishing to partake in anything greater than a catnap, but once he slipped into a deep unconsciousness, that was when the attacks began. Courtesy of that devious sword, Eelspine, whenever Kaji let down his guard to rest, the sentient weapon could do as it pleased, be that a call towards other creatures, or manifest its own power outward. Of course, there was very little it could ever do to cause physical harm without being in someone’s grasp, but Eelspine still had its methods of inflicting trauma when it could not have its way.
Kaji’s eyes burned with the desire to shut and remain closed. The biting cold of the north’s perpetual winter pleaded with him: return to that cramped bed, snatch the morning’s last crumb of sleep before reaching the border. Giving in to the comfort of the plush leather seat, Kaji lulled briefly before he heard a shrieking wail careering forth from his past. Those emeraldine eyes flashed opened, so alert as if Kaji had gone back in time to the memory of that sound. It was a moment in time he would never forget, yet seeing that victim sitting across from him ensured as much.
“Letting me out… wow, the sword must be pissed,” teased the ghost of Xinyue. The young woman was leaned against the corner of the booth, mostly because having no arms or legs made for obvious balance issues. As an emerging woman, she was beautiful, perhaps more suited to be a model than a shinobi, but it was the way of Eelspine to capture souls and display them in their disembodied forms from their moment of demise. For Xinyue, her form was her last seconds when she wailed in agony, perishing in magma; her own Revenge of the Sith, where she was with all certainty, the chosen one.
Kaji didn’t seem shocked as he looked over her, only crestfallen as he was forced to reflect on their past together. Not only could he see her, so crispy black and shriveled to a glossy husk, but he could also smell her. To the bartender who was clearly spectating, she saw Xinyue as well but in a spectral, opaque form constructed from that verdant chakra. The bartender, perhaps used to the occult, bore a wicked, sharp-toothed smile until she took another drink from her endless bottle of vodka.
“Eelspine used to despise you, Xinyue, but now it hates me more,” Kaji answered Xinyue in a hushed, private tone. “The other spirits have more experience roaming. Eelspine knows better than to let them loose around mundane humans; they could escape by possessing a new host.”
Xinyue let out a disappointed sigh at that. She would have folded her arms if she had them but settled with reclining her head, imitating Kaji. She began looking around fervently though, clearly curious about that aforementioned prospect; possession.
“And do you still hate me, Kaji?” Her question came so curiously, perhaps genuinely.
He didn’t respond immediately, giving Xinyue a moment to process her own presumption, and her crisped brow curled into an aggressive snarl. “Do you still envy what I took from you? Even in my death, you live in my shadow— you live out my destiny... forever some mediocre replacement. Forever second place, Kaji.”
“Actually, I just hate not being able to get some decent sleep, Xin.” Kaji stole her bluster with that and a yawn to follow. “You have been dead going on thirty years… I’ve been at peace with you for what feels like forever, but the sword won’t let your spirit remember our talks. “Each time you come out you’re still scheming and haughty, vengeful… You’re still that little girl who died for the lies of Iwakura Uchiha.”
“Do not utter our master’s name in vain, you old wretch!” There it was, the bitter, angry side of Xinyue, who would have flipped their table over next and drew her huge claymore, but again, no arms. “Well, I don’t care how many years it has been. I still hate you, Kaji, and I always will. “Always knew I’d go to hell but this is rich… Use me like your devil and I’ll devoutly make Kaji suffer... let me torment this bastard until he dies of old age.”
“One day I’ll find a means to free you all” entreated Kaji, who took Xinyue’s sudden explosion in stride. Instead, he lifted his mug for another sip of tea. When he set it down, he let it hit the table with a loud smack and Xinyue vanished.
“Come on Eelspine” pleaded Kaji, “give me some rest from the nutjobs, please.”
WC926
Eelspine Soul — Death Pulse RP (1st of 5)
Kaji has entered and left the thread.
More Xinyue Files.
KAJI №01: Urchins of Maruishi
KAJI №11: The Eel's Spine
He leaned back into the cushion of the booth, wishing to partake in anything greater than a catnap, but once he slipped into a deep unconsciousness, that was when the attacks began. Courtesy of that devious sword, Eelspine, whenever Kaji let down his guard to rest, the sentient weapon could do as it pleased, be that a call towards other creatures, or manifest its own power outward. Of course, there was very little it could ever do to cause physical harm without being in someone’s grasp, but Eelspine still had its methods of inflicting trauma when it could not have its way.
“Letting me out… wow, the sword must be pissed,” teased the ghost of Xinyue. The young woman was leaned against the corner of the booth, mostly because having no arms or legs made for obvious balance issues. As an emerging woman, she was beautiful, perhaps more suited to be a model than a shinobi, but it was the way of Eelspine to capture souls and display them in their disembodied forms from their moment of demise. For Xinyue, her form was her last seconds when she wailed in agony, perishing in magma; her own Revenge of the Sith, where she was with all certainty, the chosen one.
Kaji didn’t seem shocked as he looked over her, only crestfallen as he was forced to reflect on their past together. Not only could he see her, so crispy black and shriveled to a glossy husk, but he could also smell her. To the bartender who was clearly spectating, she saw Xinyue as well but in a spectral, opaque form constructed from that verdant chakra. The bartender, perhaps used to the occult, bore a wicked, sharp-toothed smile until she took another drink from her endless bottle of vodka.
“Eelspine used to despise you, Xinyue, but now it hates me more,” Kaji answered Xinyue in a hushed, private tone. “The other spirits have more experience roaming. Eelspine knows better than to let them loose around mundane humans; they could escape by possessing a new host.”
Xinyue let out a disappointed sigh at that. She would have folded her arms if she had them but settled with reclining her head, imitating Kaji. She began looking around fervently though, clearly curious about that aforementioned prospect; possession.
“And do you still hate me, Kaji?” Her question came so curiously, perhaps genuinely.
He didn’t respond immediately, giving Xinyue a moment to process her own presumption, and her crisped brow curled into an aggressive snarl. “Do you still envy what I took from you? Even in my death, you live in my shadow— you live out my destiny... forever some mediocre replacement. Forever second place, Kaji.”
“Actually, I just hate not being able to get some decent sleep, Xin.” Kaji stole her bluster with that and a yawn to follow. “You have been dead going on thirty years… I’ve been at peace with you for what feels like forever, but the sword won’t let your spirit remember our talks. “Each time you come out you’re still scheming and haughty, vengeful… You’re still that little girl who died for the lies of Iwakura Uchiha.”
“Do not utter our master’s name in vain, you old wretch!” There it was, the bitter, angry side of Xinyue, who would have flipped their table over next and drew her huge claymore, but again, no arms. “Well, I don’t care how many years it has been. I still hate you, Kaji, and I always will. “Always knew I’d go to hell but this is rich… Use me like your devil and I’ll devoutly make Kaji suffer... let me torment this bastard until he dies of old age.”
“One day I’ll find a means to free you all” entreated Kaji, who took Xinyue’s sudden explosion in stride. Instead, he lifted his mug for another sip of tea. When he set it down, he let it hit the table with a loud smack and Xinyue vanished.
“Come on Eelspine” pleaded Kaji, “give me some rest from the nutjobs, please.”
WC926
Eelspine Soul — Death Pulse RP (1st of 5)
Kaji has entered and left the thread.
More Xinyue Files.
KAJI №01: Urchins of Maruishi
KAJI №11: The Eel's Spine
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