Good Night

Chapter VII

Suna's severed piece hovered Kumo up. It knew he was done here. While they left, Kumo watched Nanase stand from the withered wooden chair and glare at the baku as if he was a filthy piece of gum clinging to the bottom of his black sneakers.

Confusion and dismay weighed Kumo's body down more than gravity ever could. Not even the satisfaction of devouring three nightmares at once lifted his spirits. He waved the man farewell before leaving his mind. Compared to Kyou's room, his was much more well-kept. There was no mysterious substance hugging his feet, nor were there abandoned Lego pieces stabbing his heels. Clutters of books and trinkets rested on his shelves, a lampshade away from his king-size mattress. As expected from an adult.

Yet even with his grey down-feathered comforter set and black fluffed-up pillows, Nanase still had his face set on a frown. He opened his mouth to mutter something, but only allowed a gurgled choke to make its way to Kumo's ears. Even if he'd taken Yuu away, he wondered why the adults didn't feel better. Baku existed to relieve humans of their worries while they slept, but if that didn't help, what would?

The forest tells no lies. Yuu's last words repeated in his jumbled head. Kumo scratched his scalp, sighing. "I have no choice, then." He pulled his socks up to his knee caps and cracked open the window. "Let's get going, Susu," he breathed as moonlight caressed his face.

She spiraled up his arms and down his legs before floating outside, slightly flustered by the summer wind.

Kumo skipped on and led her past the smoky houses, street lamps and bustling shops to the thick mass of greenery ripe with life.

The baku froze at its entrance. Shadows danced under the tall, tall trees, beckoning him to come in. They sniggered and stretched their arms open with thin, teeth-baring smiles painted on their faces. No matter, Kumo had battled with the night before. He could handle this. So he tensed his muscles and accepted their invitation, but not before setting his bottle behind him. He snapped it open, whispering, "This might be too dangerous for you. Go back to Suna, little one."

The sand cloud swirled around Kumo like a hot-out-the-oven cinnamon roll, then flew towards the half-full moon.

With her gone, he could relax. No one could see the sweat rolling down his skin, his ragged breaths or the way his golden eyes scattered in every direction at the snap, snap, snap of twigs under his fidgetting feet. Despite wanting answers, Kumo remained glued in place. But he couldn't waste anymore time; Suna would be back soon. At first, he moved in slow steps, before a rush of curiosity forced him to quicken his pace.

Adrenaline pumped through Kumo's veins the further he dashed into the forest. His feet pounded on the grass with fierce desperation as he ran without a specific destination. The tingles trickling down his body intensified after he talked to Yuu. His words rattled in Kumo's head even then. Something compelled him to go there the second he first spotted the vast mass of trees. He just refused to acknowledge it―until now.

Crickets chirped and frogs croaked, calling their loved ones in the night. Kumo cursed at the moon, unsure of who to believe. Yuu shouldn't have known of Lady Tsuki's existence. He was just a nightmare; a distorted fragment of memories abandoned by human minds. But the baku couldn't help taking his venomous words to heart. Were Lady Tsuki and Suna lying to me? He couldn't tell.

Fireflies glowed a path for him while they tangoed with the wind. Their warm glow made Kumo's smile regardless of how tight his gut twisted in anticipation. Something waited for him. He felt it pulling him left and right, reminiscent of a magnet. Eventually, his eyes came upon a large tree. Ants, ladybugs and other critters crawled up and down its trunk, skittering away once Kumo brushed his fingers on its wood.

The baku couldn't help getting distracted―living in Tokyo never gave him the opportunity to see nature at its finest. He gazed up, mesmerized by the brilliant greens, warm yellows and glimpse of white above him. It's so big, he thought with a gulp.

For the next few moments, Kumo occupied himself by keeping his eyes locked on the ancient plant's abundance of leaves that seemed to reach past the stars. He walked around it in a daze until he stumbled over a rock perched nearby. It was close to a boulder's size, cut at awkward angles. Kumo, who landed on his back, rolled closer to get a better look.

A thin layer of moss clung to it, accompanied by lilies with withered tips tied together by yarn. He pushed them aside and touched the rock. It felt moist on his fingertips. Kumo imagined the moss to be Dark-dark swallowing up anything he could reach, and smiled knowing he was in his stomach. The baku could still feel words etched on its front in big letters. Ever curious, he scratched at it until two words came into vision.

Akiyama Yuu.

As he processed this information, a chuckle tickled his ear. "Now do you see?"

Kumo crawled back until he bumped into a tree, holding the ear Yuu's breath warmed. "You're... dead?" he pondered while switching his stare from the stone to Yuu.

There was an ethereal glow, similar to the fireflies around them, tracing Yuu's body when he smirked. "Yup."

The baku tilted his head, slightly doubtful. Eyebrows knit together, he asked the one question gnawing at his brain. "But, why do you look like me?"

The ghost sighed, then crossed his arms. He strode closer, the distance between them shortened to less than a centimeter. "You still don't get it? It's because―"

Before he could hear the rest, sand filled Kumo's ears. His sandman appeared to steal him from the scene. Yuu's eyes widened, mouth hung agape as he began shrinking from Kumo's view. He stretched an arm up in an attempt to grasp the baku's body, but it was too late.

Suna had already swallowed him up.

Tears swelled in Yuu's eyes as Kumo was taken away from him. His fists tightened once he shot a glare at the sand cloud. "No... No!"

She remained silent, instead focused on putting her partner to sleep. After all, what else was a sandman good for?

"Stop, Suna! I-I don't want to―not yet," he cried despite the sand filling his lungs.

Suna shushed him, soft and low. "Everything will be alright. Just sleep tight. I'll protect you."

The baku's last protests went on deaf ears. He was forced to fall into slumber.