Chapter Text
Michiru had never seen a yokai before. Aside from the shikigami that protected their village, he was rather ignorant of the creatures that prowled the outside world. He’s heard many tales from the older villagers and even his own father about the many strange, vicious and warmongering creatures that plagued the continent and forced them into hiding.
“We never leave the valley, Michiru.” His father would say “Here is where we’re safe. Under the protection of the seal and the shikigami, we remain hidden and untouched.”
This border seal that Michiru had grown up learning to maintain, the spirits of the forests, the watershed, and even the misty sky above that he’d been trained to respect and connect with. These were the things that ensured their village remained undiscovered and unmolested, not only by the monsters of the world, but the monstrous humans that warred over territory and resources.
Michiru had never seen a yokai before, much less a hanyou.
By the way he was held by the throat, pinned to the valley floor and unable to free himself, he suspected everything he'd heard about full-blooded yokai extended themselves to the creature in front of him.
Coincidentally, this was also the very first time Michiru had ever feared for his young life. “Please,” Michiru whimpered, his voice scraping against his windpipe, pressed under the rough, calloused hand. “Don’t-.”
“Be quiet.” They demanded tersely. The hanyou’s head swivelled about, triangle ears perked, alert and attentive. Strong brows were scrunched, yellow eyes wide and wild. Concentrated? Enraged? Perhaps they were both. They were all edges, and all too heavy on top of Michiru, and ready to crush him like he was a small bird.
“Are you alone?” Those two wide, glinting eyes glared down at him, demanding him to answer. “Did you come here by yourself?”
Michiru sobbed. He really wished that he wasn’t alone. He really wished that he didn’t come here by himself. An armful of damp sticks was hardly worth this much trouble.
He had the shikigami, of course. Although they weren't so reliable, even under normal circumstances. Michiru certainly couldn’t call for lantern lights or a healing spray while he was struggling to keep his breath. He wasn’t sure either of those paltry tricks would be of help either way.
With little other recourse, he pleaded again, tears pricking his eyes. “Please… I’m so-” He hiccuped. “I’m so scared…”
It was pathetic. All he could do was beg for his life. He had to look up through his own tears at this brute and implore them to hand back what they so effortlessly caught in their clutch. He couldn’t fight, he couldn’t even struggle. He was all and ultimately useless, even to himself.
He heard a derisive snort, before the hanyou pushed off of him. Michiru curled instinctively, vainly protecting his prone self, while he struggled to even his breaths.
The half-blood left him on the grass bed, only turning around to snarl at him. “Better keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for ya.” He warned, his voice rumbling with a gutty growl. “Ya hear me? Don’t you go telling anyone about this!” The hanyou took a single leap, dashing off to the woods almost as quickly as he’d pounced upon Michiru just moments ago.
He stayed on the ground, curled like a pillbug, long after the hanyou had disappeared into the thickets of the forest. Each breath Michiru took was a shallow one, his body shuddering the entire time. He might as well have been breathing through his ribs, each inhale was painfully crisp inside his thorax and prickled his throat. He coughed. It stung his eyes about as evenly as his windpipe.
His only motivation to pick himself up from where he'd lain was the snow soaking through his clothes. The only thing that ached him more than his injuries or his utter shame.
Quickly, Michiru picked up his meager bundle of kindling into his arms, eager to scuttle himself back towards the village. The village was safe, even if it turned out the valley wasn't. He could just hide under his covers and forget the whole affair. Erase it from memory, leave it only to the ears of the forest.
He certainly didn't plan to mention it again if he could help it. Not ever. Not to anybody...