5. The Canopy

The Canopy

Hiro

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I move over, not needing to look to know where she’ll sit. I’m just surprised that her drop into the chair is as hard as the yank of her pen. I’m half surprised it doesn’t snap in half getting ripped out of her back and can practically feel the animosity rolling under her skin.

I almost half expect to see fangs, even though our faces are covered in masks. We’re only really required to wear the traditional coverings on the field, but they help for a number of reasons. Getting used to being in them every breath we’re on mission being one.

Helping to filter our senses being another.

At the moment, Aya is sucking breath like the desert sands to water, clearly upset over something. Her face, if not the harsh teal shade of her eyes, say how pissed off she is. “Stuff it mutt!” It’s a low and cold snap that doesn’t need to be screamed to crack through the room like the deathly warning it is.

“It’s not.....” Haru never knows when to shut up. At this point, I’m afraid to even breathe, let alone comment, but of course, the wolf is trying to be supportive. With a very audible growl from her, he does the most least like him thing to do and slides whatever snack mix he and Tien have been munching across the length of the table.

Even the deviant put away his gadget and has folded his hands in his lap like he does whenever his mom scolds him. I can practically feel my brows hit my hair line when she turns to glare at him. Aya’s ever-changing irises have expanded a bit, the freckling of her nose is gone, her face is longer, her hair is shinier……...

The changes seem so minute on their own, but all together with the new intensity of her undefinable scent there’s no denying that she hit Consent. Full mature and adult status like we have.

Seemingly overnight rather than taking the full the stage to slowly acclimate and adapt. A fact that only lends to the suspicion or assumption that she’s Demon like eighty percent of the class. “We got you, Cub.” I slide my arm around her back and pull her to my side a second, trying to be as brotherly as I can in the moment.

I should be happy. Should be thrilled, but I have more questions than I do answers in every context.

Aya biting her lip before mumbling a thanks and picking up the snack mix makes me question the flush on her cheeks as more upset or just embarrassment. She’s never been one for attention like Haru, and no one is being subtle about staring at her or nosing her.

I don’t want her to think I’m mad, or that it’s her fault because it isn’t. I just know that it’s going to be a lot more work than I expected. I tell myself I can handle it, we can handle it, right until the moment he walks in.

The fawn hair ice-eyed Lord Jourin Hisen may look like Prince Charming and every one, even the two idiots beside me, like him. I, on the other hand, can’t stand his ass.

I know I’m supposed to be Zen, but as he saunters down the wide stairs on either side of our elevated sitting desks I get that nails on a chalkboard feeling. Always do with him. Every part of Jourin rubs every part of me the wrong way, and I would love nothing more than for the peacock to fall on his face.

People can think what they want, but Jourin’s a scumbag.

All the masses line up to worship him, regardless of the polished boot print he’s known to leave on their backs.

I won’t say that I’m prejudice. Factions between Yon and Oni really don’t exist here like they do in the Southern nations. People are what they are, and it takes all types for the world to go round.

It’s only people that abuse the power and position that either of us take issue with, and the fawn haired blue-eyed, square - jawed hawked nose, prat Lord Hisen is definitely on that list.

Every Hosa I’ve met, actually. Even if he is just a cousin and part of the branch family, he throws his weight around as much as the rest. The heir to the seat was born and raised here, but you’d never know it with the way the “Greater, Noble Yon,” interacts with the “Lesser, half-breed, Oni.”

Rules don’t exist to the nobles of the Valley. Their hierarchy being based on territory or location rather than a village. The Canopy is one of the few places that they can get away with their holier than thou bullshit. Which only makes Jourin trying to press it here, more aggravating.

The frosting Yonkai being able to skip town to town, village to village and seat to seat with their noble status and elite attitudes because of the old pacts…….. Thank Sages we’re not a seated village and anyone who wasn’t born here, dies before they ever get a chance to whisper that we’re the last free nation for Demons.

To me, the Canopy has always been independent and belonged to its own nation. Like the Spirit nation of the old world, it doesn’t have Kings or Nobles. Just the Soma, a shin leader, and a counsel of elders to guide his or her decisions. Females can be rulers, leaders, anything they want to be in the North.

Same as Oni.

Our ancestors put their differences aside when they were exiled beyond the Wall, and know what we all do. There’s no room for prejudice or preconceived notions in survival. The North not only thrives, but has known peace for several Ages.

Since the Demon Wars followed the Blood Wars, and our spit of land was the only place the rest feared enough to send their unwanted. Equally, where those who did not buy into the politics that people were born to be slaves and serve others, were eradicated.

Being honest, Jourin is the person I trust the least to keep our secrets. To let our village thrive as it has independent of the rest. I’m also fairly certain the snake drugs women who say no to him, just to get in their pants. Charming as he pretends to be, I have no doubt that whatever Sacred lives in his skin is as parasitic as it is grotesque.

I also may pass in the old way, by murdering the top performer in class to get rank if he gets any closer to Ayame.

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6: Hiro - The Art of Possession