"Why do you let them treat you like that?"
A girl looks up to see a shadowed figure standing over her naked form, his figure shrouded by a long cloak and a hood that obscures his face entirely except for the pair of crimson red eyes, slit like a snakes. Only his voice gives away his gender, but nothing else about him is observable.
His words bounce around her mind like echoes in a chamber, and she doesn't really comprehend them. She just feels... numb. It's a strange feeling. There's no pain, not truly. The men of the village can't seem to actually hurt her flesh, not when they grab or when they pull or when they slap.
Yet she still feels... it is not pain. She knows what pain is, and this is not that. It isn't. It's different. But...
It still hurts.
It doesn't make any sense to her. How can something hurt without pain? She doesn't know.
She wants to bathe. This isn't the fist time the men of the village have taken her out to the forest after dark. Sometimes they bring her sister too, but she tries to come alone. She knows her sister doesn't like it. Well, not that she does either.
In all the times this has happened, one thing that has remained constant is the desire to bathe afterwards. It's a strange desire, because it is not even in order to remove the filth that she wants to bathe.
For some reason, even if her skin is perfectly smooth and clean, she still feels filthy when they're done, and somehow that filth feels like pain.
It hurts without hurting, and the girl doesn't understand what that means.
"Why do you let them treat you like that?"
The girl looks up at the figure standing over her as he repeats himself, and though she manages to understand the words this time, she still struggles to comprehend them. His words simply do not make sense to her. She doesn't let anyone do anything, this is just the way things are. It's her fault for being born an abomination.
Eventually, the silence following his question gets to her and she answers, even if her voice is hoarse in a way that makes her throat uncomfortable.
"It's normal."
"Says who?" The cloaked figure's riposte is quick, as if he expected her answer. She doesn't recognise his voice. Is he a traveller passing by? "Who is it that decides what is normal?"
"I don't know," the girl shrugs, finding something about this conversation familiar. She doesn't really want to talk right now, but she's not allowed to ignore people anyway, so it's not like she has a choice.
Listen to me when I'm talking to you!
The girl brushes the memory away and answers, "Elders I guess."
"And who decided for them?"
The girl's eyes narrow as that feeling of familiarity grows. "The Elders when they were young, probably."
"Then who was the first to decide what is normal?" The cloaked figure presses, sounding almost eager for a moment before the tone returns to placidity, leaving her to wonder if she's imagining things. She finds that she doesn't really care either way.
"I dunno," the girl shrugs, faintly recalling now that she's had a similar conversation with her sister before.
"I can tell you. If you want?"
The girl blinks, her suspicion fading away into surprise. She'd never thought about there being an answer. And now that the option is presented to her, the girl physically cannot withhold the burning desire to know. To know why her life is as it is. To know why she isn't allowed to do all the things the other kids do. To know why her sister has to live a life that fills her with cowardice.
She needs to know why she cannot have as much as they have.
Yes, she couldn't turn this man away if she wanted to. Not with what he offers.
It is easy to say you won't sell your Soul to the Devil until the day you hear what it is the Devil has to offer.
"Tell me."
Through the shadowed hood, the girl barely makes out a twist like they are smiling at her.
"The first person to decide what is normal, is you." The girl's brows furrow but he keeps talking before she can doubt him. "Have you ever seen a bird burrow through the earth? Or a wolf fly through the sky? Would not flight seem to defy all reason to the eyes of a wolf? It's not normal for a wolf to fly, after all. Just as it is not normal for a bird to forage through dirt. You see how 'normal' for one can be 'abnormal' for another? That is your answer, Child. You are not abnormal. You are simply not Human. And so, just as it would be abnormal for a Human to have wings, it too would be abnormal for a Human to be you. But for a bird? For you..?"
The girl stares at the hooded face with wide eyes, her mind feeling as though it is expanding as she listens to the words he speaks. Like each sentence is a key unlocking chain after chain wrapped around her Soul.
"The simple truth, Child," the figure continues, and the girl hangs off of his words like they are the oxygen she needs to breathe, "Is that it is up to you to decide what you want 'normal' to be."
It is... up to me? The girl repeats in her mind as she watches the figure nod once before simply turning around and walking away. She can barely focus on him, however, as her mind becomes a whirlwind of emotion. I... can choose?
The girl doesn't know how long she lied there, her mind too chaotic to form a true thought as she processed this revelation.
Eventually, she did find her way to the usual river she bathes in—the freezing cold water no longer making her flinch quite so much—and after cleaning herself, she returned to her home and cuddled against her sister until morning; going through the motions mechanically as her mind kept repeating the same words over and over.
I can choose.
The words kept echoing in her mind in the morning. Then through the afternoon and evening. Over and over, like a disease, she just couldn't get those words out of her head.
Eventually, night fell again, and as she lay there inside a hut far too small for two growing young women, huddled against her sister, the girl simply couldn't hold herself back anymore. She couldn't sleep with those words echoing constantly in her mind, and so the girl did something uncharacteristic.
The girl made a choice.
Thus, under the dim light of the moon the next day, the girl dragged her sister out of their hut and all the way over to the village's storeroom, sharing the choice she made as they went.
At the storeroom, as she is pressed against the door fiddling with the simple lock, her sister stands a step behind and the girl can practically feel her sister's eyes nervously flitting around them as if afraid the shadows will come to life.
"Nee-chan," the nervous girl whispers, "I don't think this is a good idea. We aren't supposed to be here. What if we get caught? We'll be punished."
A gentle tink comes from the door before the girl there turns enough to send her cowardly sister a roguish grin.
"Don't you know, Imōto-chan? It is normal for the youth to get into mischief." The girl waves her hand as if to dismiss her sister's worries before turning back to the door and pulling it open. "We aren't old yet so it's fine."
Her sister has always been so scared of consequences, but the girl already knows that it's normal for young people to get into mischief, and she has decided that it is normal for her as well.
If she can truly choose what is normal, then she has decided that it will be normal for her full to the brim and never feel hunger or thirst gain.
That, more than anything, is what she wants to be normal.
So the girl slips into the storehouse, her sister nervously following behind, and both of them freeze in a moment of silent awe as they see for the first time just how much the other villages have.
It's everywhere. Stacked up in rows and on shelves and wrapped in leaves or crates full of salt...
There's so much food. She didn't even know there could be this much food. Even seeing it, it's difficult for her to understand how so much could exist, all in one place at that! There are even bottles over bottles full of some dark water she usually sees the villages drinking before they get loud or decide to take her out to the forest.
She wants it.
The sight of it all causes her stomach to clench in on itself like it is trying to squeeze into a ball, the sudden pressure causing her to wince and hold a hand over her belly even as her mouth begin to water.
She can feel her ability to think start fading away. Thoughts and feelings, even her senses all fading away in place of a singular, overwhelming need.
Her sister is saying something, she thinks. But she doesn't understand the words. All she knows is that somehow the food has gotten in her hand and she is just oh so hungry.
The next thing the girl knows, she is staring up at the storehouse's ceiling. It takes a minute for her mind to settle and thoughts to return, like waking up from a particularly long nap.
Blinking, the girl looks around to see that she is lying in a pile of broken crates and spilled food and dark-red stains and empty bottles.
She feels good.
Stuffed. Full in a way she has never experienced before. Satiated so thoroughly that those wolves she ate with her sister once seems to pale in comparison.
A smile finds its way to her lips and the girl is surprised to find tears begin escaping her eyes.
She doesn't know why she is crying, not when she feels so happy.
"Nee-chan!" The girl tilts her head at the whisper-shout and she looks over to see her sister looking as concerned as usual. Though, at least she can tell that her sister has been eating too.
Pausing at that thought the girl looks around, wanting even more despite feeling so full, but she is disappointed to see the food all gone.
"Nee-chan!" Her sister whisper-shouts again, "They're coming!"
The girl hears the words, she understand them, but they just feel so... far away.
Even as the door is abruptly burst open with a small shower of splinters, the girl doesn't react to it.
Some time ago, the girl recalls confessing her greatest fear to her sister.
The village men storm through the door, shouting and yelling and cursing. She doesn't even look at them, not noticing how this forces their attention onto her sister.
She has always seen how much the others had, and it scared her to think that she would never have as much. That she would never get to experience that extravagance.
The girl's ears are blind to the yelling and the screaming, not noticing even as one of the men grab her sister by the hair and throw her to the floor.
She remembers her sister admitting that she got scared when they hurt her. How it made her want to hit them back, and she was scared of what would happen if she did. The girl didn't really understand it, but she was glad that her sister told her.
One of the villagers kick her prone sister in the stomach, sending her rolling to crash against the pile of broken things that the girl lies upon.
But now? In this moment?
The girl's amethyst eyes meet her sister's that shine like molten gold, and she feels something coalescing within her in that moment. Like she's spent her entire life walking on one foot and only just discovered the other.
In this moment, she feels within herself her greatest fear disappear. Experiencing it for herself, she is no longer afraid of it. Instead, it almost feels as if it is a friend. As if it is a part of her. She feels like she finally knows what 'normal' is.
"Hey, Imōto-chan," the girl whispers as if they are alone in that moment. "Wanna know a secret? 'Normal' can be whatever we want it to be."
Within her very Soul, she feels her fear become something else. She feels it manifest as if what she has been afraid of all this time has just been herself.
Her sister's eyes widen at her words, and a second later she is pulled away by another hand on her hair, yanking her back. It all feels so distant to her, but the girl hears the familiar crack! of a bone being broken. The sound is followed by more, and then screams.
She doesn't care, however. Because the girl finally knows who she is. She finally knows what 'normal' is to her.
Decadence.
At the same time that the girl lounges in the comfort of her own indulgence, the village around her burns as her sister too, decides what 'normal' is for her; and the village can only scream and beg as vested upon them is the weight of their own cruelty, dealt unto them by her sister's hand as her greatest fear becomes the tool of her vengeance.
Retaliation.
The girl smiles at the stars, knowing in her heart that the air she now breathes is free. She can't help but laugh at it. She never considered that she might be allowed to be free before.
It feels good.
"Nee-chan."
The girl tilts her head to the voice, seeing her sister standing by her side covered in blood not her own and noting that the sun has risen as she was lost in thought.
"Yes, imōto-chan?"
Her sister doesn't respond immediately. She wonders if that's because her sister is as happy as she is right now.
"What do we do now?"
Glancing away from her sister, the girl sees that all that remains of the village is corpses and broken homes. Even the storeroom around her no longer has walls or a ceiling. Her eyes turn back to her sister without a waver to them, and she smiles. Happy in a way that is foreign to her, yet that she does not want to stop experiencing.
"Now?" She echoes, giving the question only a moment's thought before recalling those echoing words that drove her to this moment. "Now we do whatever the fuck we want."
///
Ibaraki-Dōji
///
Ibaraki is having fun, her eyes of molten gold wide with glee.
It's been too long since she's fought someone new that's on her level—or a couple steps below in this case. It's close enough; she's enjoying herself.
That last attack was truly spectacular~. Each ring of Foxfire by itself was strong enough that it would have hurt her, but together?
Gloriously painful; she couldn't help but take a moment to revel in it, though she also couldn't go and let Tamamo get away with wounding her without paying something back.
Her Osore helped her gather the necessary power quicker than normal, faster than Tamamo should have been able to react to, and yet the Kitsune still managed to dodge. Though, she at least managed to clip a hand, so there's that.
The next moment, Ibaraki appears by the Kitsune in the sky, her sword again trying to bisect her, but Tamamo pivots in the air around the blade—straight into Ibaraki's fist.
The sky cracks! from her punch, but the Tamamo in front of her remains unmoved, grabbing a hold on Ibaraki's wrist with both hands as her singular tail tries to pierce through Ibaraki's skull.
At the same time, behind this Tamamo, another flies from her back down to the shattered earth below.
It's even more annoying than Hagoromo, Ibaraki complains to herself as she headbutts this Tamamo's piercing tail before simply ripping the clone in half as she watches the world below ripple like a lake with a large rock cast into it.
Only, where the ripple passes, the world transforms into a verdant forest of towering trees and blatantly hostile architecture.
Lots of thorns.
Does she think I'm stupid? Ibaraki questions, not deigning to let herself answer the thought.
Instead, Ibaraki simply turns to her sword, breathes in deep, and blows out white-hot flames that wrap around the blade.
Then, Ibaraki holds her sword out in front of her, hilt up, and lightly tosses it forward before suddenly blurring into motion as she rapidly spins around for momentum and kicks the hilt of her blade hard enough to fracture the bones in her foot.
The sword barely exists between moment to moment, crashing into the illusory earth with such speed and force that one third of the Realm folds in half, rising into the air like twin tidal waves, great plumes of magma ejecting in every direction as the Realm transforms into a ruined hellscape before her very eyes.
It is only thanks to some Youki over her ears that Ibaraki does no go deaf from the sound of the world ending.
It really is... so fragile, Ibaraki contemplates, watching dispassionately how easy it is to make the Human Realm crumble—this facsimile of it anyway.
It takes some time for the aftershocks to settle—not entirely mind you, Ibaraki is not patient enough to wait the hours that would likely take—but eventually Ibaraki hones in on Tamamo's presence, feeling the Kitsune's aura inviting her closer.
Shrugging, Ibaraki drops from the sky and cautiously approaches the Kitsune. Another geyser of magma erupts in her path as she descends, but it barely takes a thought for her Yōkai to blow the magma away.
Soon enough, Ibaraki drops onto an outcropping of basalt and holds out an arm. Her sword erupts from the earth a moment later, cutting through all in its path before slamming itself home in her palm.
Twisting the blade around, Tamamo rests the blunt side against her shoulder and only then, does she deign to regard Tamamo.
The Kitsune herself is seated on another spire of basalt—about the only thing left to rest on in this fresh molten, craggy hellscape—with one leg bent to rest her arm on and the other dangling over the edge of her rock. She is no longer incarnate with Foxfire and she is once more clothed in fine robes, however, behind her back, all seven tails sit curled upwards in a half-circle, aglow with blue fire that extends from the tips of her tails to finish the circle behind her.
Ibaraki can feel the power wafting from it, and she wonders if this is the prelude to some sort of trump card.
It's an exciting thought. Life is no fun without any danger to spice things up.
"Have I proven myself to your satisfaction yet?" Tamamo asks, and Ibaraki pauses at the question, feeling almost offended at what the Kitsune might be implying.
"Don't be a coward," Ibaraki chides with a frown. "You can still fight, can't you?"
A sigh leaves the Kitsune as Ibaraki denies the easy out. There's no way she'd let this fight end so soon after all.
"Fine then. Round two." Tamamo pushes off of her knee and rises to stand again, looking down at Ibaraki with a slight mocking to her eyes. Ibaraki finds it more playful than insulting. "Let me show you a trick my daughter of the mind taught me."
Ibaraki smirks as Tamamo reaches behind her and pulls the large ring of Foxfire from her tails to wield it like a chakram, readying her own blade to counter attack once the Kitsune is off-balance.
After all, Ibaraki already knows that whatever Tamamo is planning to throw at her will not work. The nature of her Osore demands it.
So when the basalt crag beneath Tamamo's feet shatters and the Kitsune closes the gap between them, Ibaraki felt no concern. She was intending to let the attack land and do nothing and counter in the moment of Tamamo's surprise.
However, right as Tamamo begins her swing, the world in Ibaraki's eyes grinds down to a halt as her skin breaks out in goosebumps.
Something's off.
The thought strikes her from nowhere. It makes no sense to have. Every sense that she has and everything that she knows tells her that she has nothing to fear. There is nothing to indicate otherwise. No single reason to doubt.
And yet, the thought persists.
Something's off.
She has no time to think about it, to ponder the source of this feeling. Tamamo's chakram draws ever closer, moving faster than sound. Ibaraki has no time to ponder. The chakram gets closer and closer and despite having no reason to, all she can feel is that something—
Closer.
Is—
Closer.
Off.
It is when Ibaraki feels the heat of Tamamo's chakram brushing against her neck—her own sword an inch away from cutting into Tamamo—that time seems to freeze entirely as understanding coalesces within Ibaraki's mind under a single thought.
Kitsune!
Time snaps back into motion and everything happens in an instant.
Ibaraki halts her swing, twisting around and pulling her blade away from Tamamo right as the Kitsune's chakram crashes into her neck and does nothing. At the same time, Ibaraki swings her sword blindly behind her, a strike made more out of a guess than anything else. A guess that is rewarded as she sees Tamamo behind her, poised with a clawed hand lunging for Ibaraki's neck.
The Kitsune's eyes begin to widen as she yanks herself backwards, aborting her attack in order to avoid decapitation. She leans back with such sudden speed that her momentum pulls her legs forward, causing her to slip backwards even as Ibaraki's blade still manages to cut halfway through her throat.
Tamamo catches her fall with her tails, but her attention falls on her neck, both hands coming up as her head leans too far backwards in order to keep it from falling off entirely and begin healing the wound.
Ibaraki transitions from her slash to a sweeping kick, knocking Tamamo horizontal before rapidly rising and bringing a fist up with her that hits Tamamo's rib like a gunshot, sending the Kitsune carving through the earth a second later.
Sound returns to Ibaraki's ears as she lets out a low, focused breath. A moment later, a huff leaves her that turns into a slight chuckle.
"Damn," Ibaraki mutters to herself, starting to grin. "That was cool~."
Cracking her neck one way, Ibaraki starts walking after Tamamo, sensing that the Kitsune isn't fighting. As she does, she thinks on the exchange that just happened.
Illusions shouldn't work like that, she quickly concludes, feeling delighted at the thought. There are some lies that just cannot be told. I felt the power in that attack, you can't fake that... So how'd she do it?
Ibaraki recalls Tamamo's words. Your 'thought child,' huh? I don't get it, but man! That actually almost worked! Shuten is gonna laugh. I can't believe this newbie actually managed to threaten my life! Gah! I'm so impressed! Shame she fights like that though...
It's a good thing Tamamo was fast enough to abort her own attack. It could have been bad if Ibaraki accidentally took the Kitsune's head.
Absently as she walks, Ibaraki holds a hand out to her side and watches as ash gathers in her palm for a moment before shaking it off.
This Realm really is weak.
Coming to a stop over Tamamo—the Kitsune lying on her back, tails splayed in every which way—Ibaraki observes the eyes staring blankly upwards and kicks the Kitsune in the face, watching her head snap to the side before dropping her foot on the Kitsune's cheek and grinding it in a little.
"Giving up?" Ibaraki asks, receiving no response. She knows that this Tamamo is the real one, but given recent events she remains on-guard for a sneak attack just in case she's wrong.
"You know your problem?" Ibaraki asks again, her lip briefly curling in distain as she answers for the Kitsune. "You fight like a sorcerer."
She finds the distant sound of the Realm still falling apart around them oddly uncomfortable like this, as if Tamamo's silence is ruining the moment. She easily brushes the feeling away though and fills the silence herself.
"You figured out my Osore, didn't you?" Ibaraki shrugs blithely, not seeing a point in hiding it when she's pretty sure Tamamo knows anyway. "My Osore is Retaliation. There's a lot to it, but the base application is that if you hit me, I can throw that straight back at you and if I hit you, I can make your retaliation equal nothing. It is my Domain after all."
"Your trick nearly worked," she continues, smiling again at the thought. "I don't know how you made it so convincing, but by attacking me with an illusion, it wouldn't matter which aspect of my Osore I wanted to use. Either I would consider your attack a 'retaliation' and thus reduce nothing to nothing while leaving myself open for your next attack to hit, beginning a fresh 'interaction' to be free of the constraints of my Osore. Or, I would have tried to use your attack to strengthen my own retaliation. Only, I would only be retaliating against 'nothing', which would again give you a free hit."
Ibaraki snorts and shakes her head, but she also frowns and sighs after.
"That's how Humans fight, Tamamo." She says the words like she's educating a child. "It's embarrassing."
Finished with her tangent, Ibaraki waits for a response and the silence lingers. She's beginning to wonder if Tamamo has even been listening to her when the Kitsune finally speaks.
"I'm sorry," she says solemnly, and Ibaraki frowns again at the words. Tamamo speaks again before she can say anything about it. "I was trying to teach Kon about Youki, and I only figured out my Osore recently anyway... I'm still getting used to it."
"Oho~?" Ibaraki replies, her frown flipping around as intrigue takes precedent. "You can't be that untalented, considering where you are, so it must be an impressive Osore for you to have only recently figured it out, eh?"
Only now do Tamamo's eyes move to meet Ibaraki's, and she pauses slightly at the barely-there smirk.
"Are you familiar with the idea of 'Primal' fears?"
Ibaraki blinks at Tamamo's words, responding instinctively.
"Bullshit."
Tamamo ignores her response and explains what they both know anyway.
"It is the idea that there are some fears that are simply higher. Death and famine. Falling and failing. Quality and quantity. The thought is that some fears represent concepts that are simply greater than others. More intense, more prevalent... Superior." A single, unamused chuckle leaves the Kitsune, "One could even call them Ultimate."
Ibaraki's heel pushes down a little bit harder as her eyes narrow.
"And what is yourOsore that you apparently think you can claim to be in that league?" Ibaraki asks, feeling some cocktail emotion of intrigued and concerned and, should Tamamo not be full of shit... just a little bit of awe.
It's not like 'Primal' fears are any official classification or anything. The whole concept is more like the stuff of fairy tales and fantasy. A Yōkai with Death as their Osore for instance would be beyond any Ultimate. Theoretically, anyway. There's never been one before.
"My Osore is the fear of fear itself," Tamamo answers, her smirk growing a tad. "It is the fear that one's fears are true..." Tamamo's words drop low. Threatening. She enunciates each word slowly, as if worried Ibaraki wouldn't hear them.
"Do you get what I am saying, I-ba-ra-ki...chan?"
Ibaraki scowls and digs her heel even deeper into Tamamo's cheek.
"I am not afraid of you." Her words do not come out defensive, for it is simple fact.
"No, you aren't." Tamamo unexpectedly agrees, catching her off-guard, only to tense again as Tamamo's smirk finally expresses itself fully. "I, however, do not want to die."
Still smirking up at her, Tamamo begins to rise.
Ibaraki's foot remains on her face, pushing down to squash the Kitsune against the earth, yet even as she begins to truly strain herself, Tamamo continues to rise. Pushing her foot up with her own face until she is sitting and Ibaraki takes a half-step back, scowling immediately when she realises it.
"I won't thank you, you know." Tamamo comments as she pushes herself back to her feet. She sends Ibaraki a falsely sympathetic smile. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea you see. It's not that you've managed to teach me anything or push me past any boundary. I would have figured all of this out by myself, you just made me put my own development forward a little bit."
"What does any of that have to do with me?" Ibaraki asks, feeling annoyingly wary. She shouldn't be wary here.
Tamamo smiles at her as if she read the lines of her mind.
"I just don't want you to have any excuses to protect your pride. 'I pushed you to these hights.' Or 'I showed you how to be this strong.' Excuses I've heard before. Do you have any idea how many Yōkai have lost to me and claimed that the only reason I was strong enough to beat them was because I fought them in the first place? It's disgusting. Unfortunately, it was also always true. Everyone that I have surpassed have been lessons that have propelled me past them. The excuses were true."
Tamamo's smile turns outright mean as she finishes her little speech.
"All except for you. I see nothing to learn from you. No style, no skill. Just brute force and barely enough experience to make up for the missing brain. All you are is an impatient brute, wasting my time and interrupting my growth all so you can gloat about your own inflated self image. We haven't known one another for long, Ibaraki-chan, but I hope you understand that in this meagre time, I have come to despise you."
Tamamo turns to the side and raises an arm straight, her hand making the universal 'come at me' gesture as her smirk seems to dig into Ibaraki's Soul.
She likes to think that she's pretty thick skinned. Despite the reputation of Oni or her own sister's temper, Ibaraki can count on one hand the number of times words alone have goaded her into anger.
But right now she feels almost paralyzed by the burning rage she is feeling spread throughout her chest; Tamamo's words managing to tick every single box in the test of how to piss off Ibaraki-Dōji.
"So I hope you'll try your best," Tamamo continues, her tone starting to match the mocking smile. "I'll fight you like a Yōkai this time. So come, and don't make any excuses for your pride."
"Round three."
///
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
Damn tama-chan, where'd this bullying come from!?!
Legit caught me off guard lmao, I was like halfway through writing one of those paragraphs and paused like dayum.
Also, this fight was supposed to be a two parter, but I guess we goin for three huh? two hole ass chapters fighting and they've basically just been feeling each other out so far ;-; tf. I swear, the stronger people get the longer the fights are getting to write. I mean, it makes sense since stronger folk have better healing and sustain, but like damn! 10-20k word fights is long enough! The fuck is gonna happen whe- FUCK!! I just realised! How fucking many god damn words is the sukuna v narauko fight gonna be!?!? 50k?!?! fuck me mannnn
Also also, 'twas funny to me to see people speculating about the twins. Like, where the fuck did so many people get them being Kamos from?!?!? confused the hell outta me.
Oh yeah, the super vague 'hint' that I left about the twins was the girl absently hearing the villagers talking about a princess inoue doing sorcery. This is obviously in reference to princess inoue who famously haunted the emperor 3 years after her death... roughly 300 years before narauko was born :3