Cacopheny emerged again, at last, several hours later, just after dinner, as everyone was settling down for the evening in the downstairs living room, as if in silent accord to wait for the half-demon to show himself. Akija had explained to Sentio, as well as she could, what had happened, and Sentio was as puzzled as she was. All he'd felt through a briefly failing block on their bond had been a very confused welter of emotions and voices, though a kind of jealous anger had been forefront, whatever that meant. And now, probing that bond was like probing a brick wall: he was as securely shut out of Cacopheny's mind as he was out of the half-demon's room. There was no way he could work on his shape-shifting now... and he felt like he's almost gotten it, too.

The door opening was all but silent, and it was only a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye that alerted him to a new presence in the room. Cacopheny all but crept back into the room, black eyes on the floor, and settled himself in his near-habitual position at Akija's feet. He had swathed himself in his darkest, most concealing clothing, despite the warmth of the evening, and moved in a slow, careful manner, as if he were afraid his bones were brittle and breakable, but his expression had relaxed somewhat and he looked, at least, wholly himself. His arrival had been precipitated by the sound of his shower running for at least half an hour, after hours of silence, and his hair was still wet, only roughly claw-combed by his own fingers.

Sentio didn't have any idea what to say; the block was still in place, and he couldn't read his bond's expression. No one else said anything, either, and the silence was somewhat tense for a long few moments-- until Akija finally did something, lifting a hand and, in a very familiar motion, started running her own clawed fingers carefully through his hair, as if picking up where he left off. The tension drained away as, familiar as always, Cacopheny gave a little sigh and shut his eyes, leaning back a little against the rim of her basket-chair. Sentio put his head back down on his paws and stared at his book, wondering now just how many times he'd read the same page. He made it one more, and actually turned it this time when he reached the end, though half his mind and one cocked ear were on Cacopheny.

There was a moment more of silence, though much more relaxed this time, before Cacopheny himself broke it, his voice halting but subdued. "Isssssss. Ssat-- Fueko. Fuego. Issss he all rrrright?"

"He's fine," Akija answered him, saving Sentio the task. "He was back to smiling when Aeta and Onis took him home with them."

Still she didn't ask. Sentio pondered doing so, himself, but again Cacopheny beat him to speech. "He tidn't know. It vasss me." There was a very brief pause before he amended, "Ssem," referring to, Sentio assumed, the shadows. That made sense, in a way; Sentio had given up trying to predict what Cacopheny's shadows might do, and randomly attacking a noisy stranger who seemed to be invading his home made more sense than some of the other things they'd been known to do or say.

But then Cacopheny paused yet again, and amended yet again, more quietly, "Us." Before Sentio could ponder just what it could mean when Cacopheny included himself in the motivation for attacking someone, he sighed slowly, and continued, "Tid he know? Ven he left? Tid anyvon tell him?"

Akija shook her head even though Cacopheny's back was to her. "He didn't ask, and honestly I don't think he would've understood if we tried to explain."

"He just thought his shadow got angry at him," Chario offered softly from his own seat in another basket-chair, having been the one who had first checked on the ruban. "And... that was it. Tiptoed out of the yard and watched his feet the whole time, but... it just 'happened', to him. He didn't ask any 'why' or 'how'... just went away hoping it wouldn't happen again."

Cacopheny shut his eyes again with what Sentio thought was relief. "Ssen ssere vood be no point in trrrying to. Apologzisse to him, or essprr-- esprrrr-- tell him vat really happen't."

Never mind that no one but Cacopheny really knew what had happened, or, more appropriately, why. Sentio pulled his ears back with a private sigh and focused on his book again without really reading the words on the page. Sometimes he thought he was no closer to understanding-- much less helping-- his bond than he was a year ago when they'd first bonded. Everything had seemed perfectly all right, and then something strange like this happened. At least no one had actually been hurt; Cacopheny usually managed that much, at least.

Though Sentio might not have had the temerity to ask, just yet, but Akija did not have that lack. "Maybe not Fuego," she agreed quietly. "But how about the rest of us?"

Sentio looked up again at the question, just in time to see Cacopheny wince forward and away from Akija's touch to his shoulder, his expression not of discomfort, but actual pain. Akija yanked her hand back, startled, and Sentio frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, fine," Cacopheny wheezed, settling gingerly back again. "Jzust... be carevul vere you toutch. Pleassse."

"W-wha? Why?" Akija blinked, hand still in the air. "What's wrong? Something hurt?"

He twisted a little, so he could look up at her, expression pained, but not just because it probably hurt him to move like that. "I haf to-- ef'ry vonce in a vile. Ven ssey ket too lout. To you sssee? Tchiya nefer did-- zhe crrried. Zhe alvays ficks't me, but-- but I haf to."

"You have to what?" Sentio asked, half suspiciously and half worriedly. "Cacopheny, what did you do?"

"Jzust-- jzust-- made ssem be kviyet for a vile...." Either he didn't want to explain, or he couldn't explain, and Sentio couldn't tell which. He waved a hand weakly in some emotion that didn't quite match his nearly anguished expression. "I vill be fine. In a day orrrrrr two."

For a moment, Sentio was baffled. He made them quiet? The shadows? How had he done that, that would make him wince? That would make Chiya cry, and have to "fix" him? Akija either understood, or at least had a little more of an inkling, for she slowly slid off her chair, kneeling beside the half-demon, and said gently, "Let me see."

Cacopheny eyed her a little warily. "You von't like it," he promised, but he didn't stop her from reaching for the hem of his sleeve and starting to roll it up. He held very, carefully still, in fact, as Akija slowly exposed pale, skinny forearms, slightly knobby, equally pale elbows, and then, to Sentio's shock and sudden queasiness, two jagged lines of vivid red, the red of a barely-closed wound, standing out garishly against his skin across his bicep. Akija stopped there with a sudden intake of breath, but Sentio almost couldn't breathe. He suddenly remembered the night Cacopheny had vanished, months and months ago, to Rao's cave. He'd seen him, standing in his doorway, covered in blood. Blood that had to be his own. He'd never thought about it before, written it off as some vivid imagination, or maybe just a frightening illusion.

Now, he wasn't quite so sure, and he couldn't stop staring.

"Oh, Coffee," Akija breathed out, looking up into the half-demon's anxious face. "This is... everywhere?"

"Mostly," he mumbled, looking away from her, Chario, and Sentio all, eyes on the far wall. "It helps, sssometimes... ven ssey ket too bad. Hafn't neet'd to in a vile, but...." He shrugged awkwardly, winced a little, then dropped his shoulders again. "Ssey vood not zhut up...."

With more careful slowness, Akija let go of his bunched-up sleeve with one hand, and with a feather-light touch splayed her fingertips across his bicep, touching the whole skin around the wounds rather than the gashes themselves. "Will they start up again if I fix you?"

"Prrrropably not.... Vonce sssey stop, after a bad vone...." This time he stopped himself from shrugging. "Ssey usually leaf me alone vor a vile. Iss jzust to-- to--" He paused, searching for words. "Brrrrreak ssse-- sse.... rrrr." Abruptly he switched to demon-speech. "They all get going, you see. All of them. They-- they goad each other. Once you stop them once, they don't have the-- the speed anymore. They're tired, then, and will be quiet, at least for a while. They let me go, then, and it's all right for a while."

Sentio swallowed, still focused on the not-quite-blood-red marks, and translated into slightly more coherent language. "The shadows kind of work up a momentum, spur each other on. Once they stop, they don't have that momentum anymore, and are too tired to start up again immediately."

"All right," Akija said simply, and once again focused on the gashes on Cacopheny's arm. If it had ever really left them, which Sentio sort of doubted.

There was a long, quiet pause. Sentio guessed she was pulling in magic, and tried to be as available as he could, in case she needed what energy he could provide. He wasn't very good at magic, really, able to work specifically Light-based spells and a very low level of functional sorts of magic, but he couldn't even sense magic at work unless he actually cast a spell of his own that actively detected it. Not that he thought he'd have the stomach to be a healer, anyway. He couldn't even watch as the wounds slowly began to fade, and at last disappear, but, since he watched Cacopheny's face, he noticed that the half-demon's gaze never left Akija's face, and his expression was no longer so anxious, but almost thoughtful, with a vague sort of distraction to it, as if he were listening to something. What, Sentio had no idea-- the magic, maybe?

Then the twin gashes were gone, and Akija was rolling the sleeve back down again. She gave Cacopheny's shirt a critical glance, made an abortive twitch of her fingers towards the buttons, and said, "All right, shirt off. This'll be easier if I don't have to hold cloth out of the way with one hand."

It was obviously an order, though her tone was still gentle, and Cacohpeny bobbed his head meekly, just a little, and began obediently unfastening buttons. He kept casting covert little glances at Akija, though, as he did so, with a slightly different expression each time. Sentio, watching closely, caught surprise, amusement, and even a warm fondness that seemed out of place on his wan, pale face.

Then Akija helped him slide the unbuttoned tunic off his shoulders, eliciting one more wince as the thick fabric came away, and Sentio had to look away again. More, and more vivid, lines of red criss-crossed Cacopheny's chest and shoulders, some in pairs, some in trios, some in sets of four and five: obviously scores from his own claw-like nails. No wonder he kept them so sharp. There were a few on his back, as well, not as bright or as deep, as if he'd had a harder time reaching, though he'd made a commendable effort. A couple had actually broken open, one on his shoulder and another on his chest, and a thin line of darker red began trickling down his skin.

Akija reacted to the crazy patterns of pain with a hiss through her teeth, and Chario's only comment was a breathed, "oh, wow".

Sentio, however, felt his stomach do a flip-flop inside him. "Goddess," he moaned. "I'll be back when you're done with that!"

And with that, he scampered unrepentantly from the room, going to join Kenjista in her own bedroom, at least until the smell of blood had gone away and he didn't feel like he was going to throw up.