Critical Moment for Raidou
Jul. 22nd, 2025 02:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/SMT Devil Summoner Raidou Kuzunoha (Will of the Yatagarasu)
Summary: Raidou's secret identity could only stay secret so long.
Word Count: 1656
Rating: Teen
Raidou still hasn’t figured out the knack of double summoning, yet, so he’s not trying, but he does guess it’s good to let his demons stretch their legs now and then, and the morning’s probably the time when he’s least likely to worry anyone. It’s Žiburinis rattling behind him who announces, “We are not alone,” shortly before Xander becomes aware of Oz’s presence.
This time, he seems a lot more...relaxed? Not that he hadn’t seemed relaxed before, but he just joins like it’s normal. Last time, he had been worried about approaching probably because he’d been nervous about the question he was going to ask. There’s none of that this time. He also doesn’t glance at the demon at all, which is...probably a good sign.
Still, there’s no reason he really should be here. It’s not like anything’s changed. If anything, it’s even less likely. Willow’s getting tongue-tied around Cordy, who’s trying to become the Herald. Honestly, he’s guessing she’s half doing it just to boss everyone around, but he’s not going to say that around Willow. “Nothing’s changed,” he tells Oz, who just nods at him.
“No one else wants to jog in the mornings with me,” he admits, and Xander has to laugh at that. And then yawn.
“Want isn’t part of the equation, I don’t think. By habit, I am a creature of the night.” His brain hasn’t completely come online yet, it seems, but nobody laughs at him, so it’ll be fine. Maybe.
They haven’t found a replacement for a chakra drop yet, and Raidou remembers with a special kind of longing how it’d perk him up. Something of the kind would be nice, but he can’t count on that, sadly. Shortcuts aren’t really usually a thing in Xander’s experience, nice as that would be.
“I just don’t sleep,” Oz admits, stifling another yawn—which isn’t good, because if this keeps going they’re just going to keep setting each other off.
“That cannot be good for your grades, man.” Okay, yeah, Xander’s aren’t great, either, even if they have improved thanks to the grueling schedule he’s set himself. He technically doesn’t have to match the Amaterasu’s exacting standards. Technically. Mostly, that consists of doing the best he can, and trying not to beat himself up for not living up to it. The effort is only partly successful. Now that he’s paying attention, the judgment mostly sounds like his dad, but knowing that doesn’t necessarily help him exorcise it from his mind. Okay, sure, his dad also wouldn’t give a crap about his grades, but it’d long since expanded past the original remarks.
“I’m fine, actually. I test well, I guess.” He’s breathing deeper again. Nervous again, maybe, and for good reason.
“You know, a lot of us would kill for that kind of talent,” he observes. There’s Willow, but even the most jealous can tell she actually puts in the work.
Oz smiles. “Would you?”
An absurd conversation, sure, why not. Xander considers. “...Nah, that’s more work than just studying.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Oz agrees, like that’s a perfectly normal answer. The slight morning chill and light banter is helping wake him up a bit, but...it’s nice, here. He can just exist. Oz doesn’t seem to actually want anything from him, and there’s no pressure to him just existing.
Of course, he’s running a risk just thinking that in Sunnydale, because he barely finishes the thought before he realizes he’s jinxed himself. Someone’s screaming. He exchanges a glance with Oz. “911?” the senior asks doubtfully, and Xander just shakes his head.
“You ever known the police to be useful in this town? Stay here.” Moments like this are why he trains. He’s learned, for example, that while running with a sword and not tripping is harder than it looks, it’s even worse to run with it drawn, especially because he’d still have to deal with the sheath.
Of course, it turns out that Oz is actually following, not quite keeping pace, but fairly close. Xander would be a little more despairing of the inability of anybody to take orders and stay out of the way if it wouldn’t be hypocritical of him, because yeah, there was a time he couldn’t fight either and just threw himself into the fray anyway. He does spare a moment to mourn the fleeting nature of secret identities, but then, comics kind of prepared him for this moment, too. Because secret identities are a dramatic plot device, so obviously drama involving them has to happen. He won’t keep his sword sheathed just to protect himself, and he doesn’t have time to invent increasingly convoluted plans to keep the guy from finding out the truth. Not that those tend to work, anyway.
Another morning, another vampire, it looks like, pressing a woman against a wall in an alley. One a little too cool with braving the possibility of dawn to get a snack, which is an ethos Xander can kinda understand, but also, get a life. The fledge is actually shaking the woman, who seems to have fainted, like he’s hoping to wake her up. Like he wants the spice of fear with his food. Luckily there’s just the one, because it means he doesn’t have to even draw his sword, and there’s no chance of his demon running low on mag.
“Žiburinis,” he calls, but his demon didn’t really need that much encouragement.
“The fires of vengeance fall upon you,” Žiburinis thunders, burning the vampire to ash.
“Thanks for your help,” he tells his demon, before switching him out for Nix and the healing. She doesn’t have any obvious wounds, but it’s better to be sure.
“...That man just turned into dust, and you’ve got glowy green tubes.” Oz’s voice is very nearly the same deadpan as before, but it’s just a touch louder. He might be freaking, just a little.
It’s not like he can be eased into it anymore, but that doesn’t mean Raidou can’t try. “You might have noticed this town isn’t exactly normal.”
“Huh.” Oz takes a moment to absorb that. “What was he?”
The last time someone had taken this so calmly, he’d been plotting to become a vampire and murder them all, but it’s too early to know for sure. “Vampire. They’re the most common.”
Oz gets to think about that more, because she’s finally starting to stir. “Hey, my friend and I were jogging, and we heard you scream. I think your boyfriend attacked you? Do you have anybody you can call?”
“My...my sister,” she stammers, and he glances around. He’s not usually on this side of town, so he doesn’t remember it as well, and sure, he could send Dark Watcher out to scout, but how does a demon that doesn’t talk even report its findings…?
“I believe we are around the corner from the laundromat. The one that offers the free laundry on certain days?” Nix prompts, saving Xander’s ass as always. That’s right; he’d needed something until they’d gotten a washer and dryer installed in the HQ.
“Let’s help you to the laundromat so you can call your sister, okay? I’m pretty sure they’ve got a phone in the lobby,” he suggests, and she looks relieved.
“I have some change,” Oz offers quietly, starting to check his pockets, and Xander snorts.
“For an early morning jogger, you sure have no fear of mugging, man.” Okay, sure, he’s a senior and definitely looks like he has the sort of wiry muscle that could give someone serious pause, but also, he’s short enough that he might get easily mistaken for an easy target. Oz just shrugs again at that.
The receptionist is more than happy to help, actually offering his own phone across the counter rather than having her use the payphone, but it’s also then that Xander notices the time and swears. “Crap. Snyder promised if I wasn’t on time today, he’d skin me, and I think he was only half joking.”
Oz considers that. “I can wait with her. You get to school.”
“You sure?” Senior’s grades and attendance and stuff matter more, right? Okay, yeah, he should know this, now that he’s trying to pull off being a Kuzunoha, but there’s only so much boring info his brain can retain, and that’s one of the things that just kinda slipped through the cracks.
The guy just smiles. “I test well, remember?” That’s...well, it’s not like Raidou can argue with that logic. “Get going.”
Okay, so there might be some kind of implied ‘you owe me’ in there, but it’s kind of obvious that he’d been deferring further questions anyway, and for the moment it’s exactly what he needs, so he’s not going to argue.
“Gone,” he agrees, and then he’s off with a swoosh of a cape.
He kind of gets capes now. He’d been kind of upset that Buffy had gone for one back before Halloween, but now, he can see the appeal. They make entrances and exits that much more epic.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/SMT Devil Summoner Raidou Kuzunoha (Will of the Yatagarasu)
Summary: Raidou's secret identity could only stay secret so long.
Word Count: 1656
Rating: Teen
It gets weirder when, a couple of weeks later, he’s not alone again. Oz is quiet. Not supernaturally so, and not as bad as Dark Watcher. It’s not even that he’s doing it on purpose, it doesn’t look like anyway. For a senior, he’s short, so he’s easy to overlook, and for a guy in a band he isn’t even trying to stand out. He is absolutely not what Xander had pictured—seriously, being totally cool that a girl he’s interested in isn’t a groupie? Not even being persistent or annoying about it? Who does that? Then again, maybe, like a lot of things, that’s just telling on Xander pre-Raidou and about what he’d do if he had any talents at that point. Sure, he’s no saint. He was disappointed, and Xander gets that, but using it as an excuse to do more exercise is definitely a more healthy approach than he’d taken.
Raidou still hasn’t figured out the knack of double summoning, yet, so he’s not trying, but he does guess it’s good to let his demons stretch their legs now and then, and the morning’s probably the time when he’s least likely to worry anyone. It’s Žiburinis rattling behind him who announces, “We are not alone,” shortly before Xander becomes aware of Oz’s presence.
This time, he seems a lot more...relaxed? Not that he hadn’t seemed relaxed before, but he just joins like it’s normal. Last time, he had been worried about approaching probably because he’d been nervous about the question he was going to ask. There’s none of that this time. He also doesn’t glance at the demon at all, which is...probably a good sign.
Still, there’s no reason he really should be here. It’s not like anything’s changed. If anything, it’s even less likely. Willow’s getting tongue-tied around Cordy, who’s trying to become the Herald. Honestly, he’s guessing she’s half doing it just to boss everyone around, but he’s not going to say that around Willow. “Nothing’s changed,” he tells Oz, who just nods at him.
“No one else wants to jog in the mornings with me,” he admits, and Xander has to laugh at that. And then yawn.
“Want isn’t part of the equation, I don’t think. By habit, I am a creature of the night.” His brain hasn’t completely come online yet, it seems, but nobody laughs at him, so it’ll be fine. Maybe.
They haven’t found a replacement for a chakra drop yet, and Raidou remembers with a special kind of longing how it’d perk him up. Something of the kind would be nice, but he can’t count on that, sadly. Shortcuts aren’t really usually a thing in Xander’s experience, nice as that would be.
“I just don’t sleep,” Oz admits, stifling another yawn—which isn’t good, because if this keeps going they’re just going to keep setting each other off.
“That cannot be good for your grades, man.” Okay, yeah, Xander’s aren’t great, either, even if they have improved thanks to the grueling schedule he’s set himself. He technically doesn’t have to match the Amaterasu’s exacting standards. Technically. Mostly, that consists of doing the best he can, and trying not to beat himself up for not living up to it. The effort is only partly successful. Now that he’s paying attention, the judgment mostly sounds like his dad, but knowing that doesn’t necessarily help him exorcise it from his mind. Okay, sure, his dad also wouldn’t give a crap about his grades, but it’d long since expanded past the original remarks.
“I’m fine, actually. I test well, I guess.” He’s breathing deeper again. Nervous again, maybe, and for good reason.
“You know, a lot of us would kill for that kind of talent,” he observes. There’s Willow, but even the most jealous can tell she actually puts in the work.
Oz smiles. “Would you?”
An absurd conversation, sure, why not. Xander considers. “...Nah, that’s more work than just studying.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Oz agrees, like that’s a perfectly normal answer. The slight morning chill and light banter is helping wake him up a bit, but...it’s nice, here. He can just exist. Oz doesn’t seem to actually want anything from him, and there’s no pressure to him just existing.
Of course, he’s running a risk just thinking that in Sunnydale, because he barely finishes the thought before he realizes he’s jinxed himself. Someone’s screaming. He exchanges a glance with Oz. “911?” the senior asks doubtfully, and Xander just shakes his head.
“You ever known the police to be useful in this town? Stay here.” Moments like this are why he trains. He’s learned, for example, that while running with a sword and not tripping is harder than it looks, it’s even worse to run with it drawn, especially because he’d still have to deal with the sheath.
Of course, it turns out that Oz is actually following, not quite keeping pace, but fairly close. Xander would be a little more despairing of the inability of anybody to take orders and stay out of the way if it wouldn’t be hypocritical of him, because yeah, there was a time he couldn’t fight either and just threw himself into the fray anyway. He does spare a moment to mourn the fleeting nature of secret identities, but then, comics kind of prepared him for this moment, too. Because secret identities are a dramatic plot device, so obviously drama involving them has to happen. He won’t keep his sword sheathed just to protect himself, and he doesn’t have time to invent increasingly convoluted plans to keep the guy from finding out the truth. Not that those tend to work, anyway.
Another morning, another vampire, it looks like, pressing a woman against a wall in an alley. One a little too cool with braving the possibility of dawn to get a snack, which is an ethos Xander can kinda understand, but also, get a life. The fledge is actually shaking the woman, who seems to have fainted, like he’s hoping to wake her up. Like he wants the spice of fear with his food. Luckily there’s just the one, because it means he doesn’t have to even draw his sword, and there’s no chance of his demon running low on mag.
“Žiburinis,” he calls, but his demon didn’t really need that much encouragement.
“The fires of vengeance fall upon you,” Žiburinis thunders, burning the vampire to ash.
“Thanks for your help,” he tells his demon, before switching him out for Nix and the healing. She doesn’t have any obvious wounds, but it’s better to be sure.
“...That man just turned into dust, and you’ve got glowy green tubes.” Oz’s voice is very nearly the same deadpan as before, but it’s just a touch louder. He might be freaking, just a little.
It’s not like he can be eased into it anymore, but that doesn’t mean Raidou can’t try. “You might have noticed this town isn’t exactly normal.”
“Huh.” Oz takes a moment to absorb that. “What was he?”
The last time someone had taken this so calmly, he’d been plotting to become a vampire and murder them all, but it’s too early to know for sure. “Vampire. They’re the most common.”
Oz gets to think about that more, because she’s finally starting to stir. “Hey, my friend and I were jogging, and we heard you scream. I think your boyfriend attacked you? Do you have anybody you can call?”
“My...my sister,” she stammers, and he glances around. He’s not usually on this side of town, so he doesn’t remember it as well, and sure, he could send Dark Watcher out to scout, but how does a demon that doesn’t talk even report its findings…?
“I believe we are around the corner from the laundromat. The one that offers the free laundry on certain days?” Nix prompts, saving Xander’s ass as always. That’s right; he’d needed something until they’d gotten a washer and dryer installed in the HQ.
“Let’s help you to the laundromat so you can call your sister, okay? I’m pretty sure they’ve got a phone in the lobby,” he suggests, and she looks relieved.
“I have some change,” Oz offers quietly, starting to check his pockets, and Xander snorts.
“For an early morning jogger, you sure have no fear of mugging, man.” Okay, sure, he’s a senior and definitely looks like he has the sort of wiry muscle that could give someone serious pause, but also, he’s short enough that he might get easily mistaken for an easy target. Oz just shrugs again at that.
The receptionist is more than happy to help, actually offering his own phone across the counter rather than having her use the payphone, but it’s also then that Xander notices the time and swears. “Crap. Snyder promised if I wasn’t on time today, he’d skin me, and I think he was only half joking.”
Oz considers that. “I can wait with her. You get to school.”
“You sure?” Senior’s grades and attendance and stuff matter more, right? Okay, yeah, he should know this, now that he’s trying to pull off being a Kuzunoha, but there’s only so much boring info his brain can retain, and that’s one of the things that just kinda slipped through the cracks.
The guy just smiles. “I test well, remember?” That’s...well, it’s not like Raidou can argue with that logic. “Get going.”
Okay, so there might be some kind of implied ‘you owe me’ in there, but it’s kind of obvious that he’d been deferring further questions anyway, and for the moment it’s exactly what he needs, so he’s not going to argue.
“Gone,” he agrees, and then he’s off with a swoosh of a cape.
He kind of gets capes now. He’d been kind of upset that Buffy had gone for one back before Halloween, but now, he can see the appeal. They make entrances and exits that much more epic.
