A girl.
Her crimson jūnihitoe, covered in intricate patterns, trailed across the tatami. Two bare feet, pale and smooth as carved jade, showed beneath its hem. The girl's features were striking, proud and cold.
Red maple leaves rustled to the floor. She stepped upon their gathering layers and blinked beautiful amber eyes.
Splendid though the robes were, she had not dressed herself properly. The fabric draped loosely from one shoulder, revealing an exquisite collarbone—and a long scar descending beneath it.
What concerned Kiyo Seigan most, however, was the pair of small, pale-pink horns upon her head.
Horns?
Was she an oni?
Kiyo opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a cold flash of steel met his eyes. A crimson blade sliced through the air like a falling maple leaf and swept toward him.
Acting on instinct, Kiyo drew and blocked. The instant their blades met, his hand went numb. An overwhelming force drove through his palm and into his chest.
Boom.
Dust erupted through the shrine.
Kiyo Seigan was slammed flat against the tatami. The crimson blade pressed across his throat, and the girl pinned him like a beast holding down its prey. She crouched low over him, long hair spilling like a waterfall across his chest.
It had all happened in a flash.
He could no longer move.
Only then did Kiyo realize what was wrong with her. Those golden eyes were cold and guarded, their depths filled with a hunter's instinct. She held him beneath her and growled softly like a wild animal.
Proud. Severe.
Monstrous.
Kiyo finally understood.
This was the true monster of Chinju Forest.
He was done for...!
Little Ioroi panicked. Of course he did. He had told this fool again and again: never come outside when people were near. Whenever she was hungry, Ioroi would find food. She must never let anyone discover her!
If someone saw her—if word spread...
Bad people would come to hunt her.
They had agreed. It had always worked before. Why had she suddenly charged out this time?
The little tanuki huffed and strained, trying to pry the girl's crimson blade away. He used every scrap of his strength, yet it remained against Kiyo's neck without shifting so much as a hair.
So it was true after all.
Kiyo had learned the lesson once again: splitting up was where everything went wrong.
The cold girl bent lower, one hand holding Kiyo by the neck. Her gaze moved carefully down his body as though appraising prey, like a young lion deciding which cut of meat looked most tender. A tiger fang ground lightly against another with a faint scrape.
She observed him in silence for a long while. Then she brought her face close to his, twitched her delicate nose, and sniffed. As she took in his scent, her head tilted thoughtfully to one side.
After a while, for reasons Kiyo did not understand, she lifted the blade from his throat.
"...Hello?" he ventured.
His fingers also eased away from the Salt Ruler inside his pocket.
Kiyo had come within an inch of dialing 911 and calling in his household Salty God.
The girl tilted her head and gave a soft whimper deep in her throat.
She stepped off him. Her bare feet landed lightly upon the floor, her movements as nimble as a cat's. Those golden eyes never stopped reflecting Kiyo's face.
"My name is Kiyo Seigan." He tried to communicate with the oni girl. "What is yours...?"
Kiyo Seigan.
The name seemed to stir something within her. Her eyes shifted faintly, and her pale lips parted.
"Chiyo."
She moved lightly to a corner of the shrine and sat down. Her soft arms wrapped around her knees, and she rested one pale cheek against them, calmly staring at Kiyo without ever looking away.
"Torachiyo."
Her voice was cool, her cadence simple—like the last winter snow of early spring, slowly sinking into the earth beneath the growing sunlight.
Torachiyo.
She was the old friend he had come to find.
Kiyo's eyes brightened, but even more questions rose within him.
According to Miss Yae Miko, Mikoshi Chiyo had been consumed entirely by the filth of that otherworldly beast, then gravely wounded. Inazuma had possessed no means of curing such corruption or karmic taint. How had she survived?
Not even the Great Pillar General had been able to save her.
...Even Hanachirusato believed this friend had died.
By every account—and in the true course of history—Mikoshi Chiyo should have been dead.
Yet she had survived, hiding beyond the human world for centuries until no one knew what had become of her.
By Kiyo's judgment, most of the filth within her had already dissipated. Only a small residue remained.
If he absorbed that residue little by little—resting long enough to digest it after each attempt—and borrowed the power of the Sacred Sakura, Kiyo could purge it almost completely without seriously harming himself.
Had the otherworldly filth remained whole, even he would have struggled. After all, he no longer possessed a second Vowbound Heart in which to contain so much malice.
He had many questions for Mikoshi Chiyo, but judging from her present state, a normal conversation would be difficult.
At that moment, little Ioroi huffed his way between Torachiyo and Kiyo. Spreading his arms and trying his hardest to look fierce, he threatened, "If—if you don't want every last one of your dried fish stolen, you're not allowed to tell anyone what happened today!"
"Ioroi," Kiyo asked, "why are the two of you here?"
"I can't tell you." Ioroi lowered his eyes. "We have to wait here. Keep waiting. Ioroi has to protect her!"
"Did the Great Pillar General ask you to?"
"Yes." The little tanuki nodded, then shook his head warily. "No... Anyway, I can't tell you!"
The foolish tanuki could not keep his story straight even while lying.
Kiyo pursed his lips. "What if I told you... I can help her? Would you tell me what happened then?"
"..."
Ioroi was a foolish and stubborn little monster. Otherwise he would never have spent five centuries playing a "stone statue" for the sake of a few offerings, refusing to take a single step away from the shrine.
And so he shook his head again.
"You're not allowed to know."
"Go away," Ioroi said.
...This creature.
Kiyo sighed helplessly.
He looked away from Ioroi and back toward the girl named Mikoshi Chiyo.
Mikoshi Chiyo tilted her head. She was watching him too, through vertical golden pupils like a cat's.
She looked entirely different from the ancient, almost demonic figure of old.
As though suddenly remembering something, she rose. Bare feet pattered across the tatami as she darted into the room, rummaged through the little drawer, and pulled out a fuzzy ball of yarn. Then she pattered back and placed it before Kiyo.
Her head tilted again.
Kiyo stared at the worn ball for a long while without understanding.
The oni girl appeared displeased.
"...Do you want me to play with you?" Kiyo ventured.
Chiyo blinked.
...
Things had become rather strange.
Cold rain continued to fall outside. The party had split up, leaving Kiyo alone in a gloomy old shrine with a centuries-old female ghost and a tanuki spirit. The whole affair was bizarre enough for a modern gothic ghost story.
And strangest of all, he was playing catch with the ghost.
Kiyo tossed the worn ball across the room. Mikoshi Chiyo caught it, then threw it back.
She received every toss with complete seriousness, her gaze cool and intent. Each time she caught the ball, she tilted her head and lightly pursed her lips.
"Did you play this often in the past?" Kiyo asked.
"Mm." Mikoshi Chiyo nodded and tossed the ball back.
Some filth still remained within her, yet it did not drive Torachiyo out of control. It no longer corrupted her. If anything, she had drawn closer to her pure, unclouded nature—or perhaps simply to instinct.
Yet the way she hunted was terrifying beyond measure, like a human-shaped natural disaster.
Had anyone but Kiyo been here, she might already have torn them to pieces.
No wonder she had to remain hidden from humans.
"Can we play anything besides this?" Kiyo asked. They had been at it for quite some time, and he was beginning to grow bored.
"Mm." To his surprise, Mikoshi Chiyo nodded again.
"What?"
"...Dance," she said, sounding out the word.
Kiyo did not know what sort of game she called dance, but he said, "Then let's play that."
Mikoshi Chiyo shook her head.
"I already played it. We cannot."
"The Seigan of now... cannot." Mikoshi Chiyo stared at him and spoke calmly. "You would die."
...What kind of savage game ended in death?
Kiyo remembered what Mikoshi Chiyo had done moments ago and understood at once.
Was this game called dance actually a sword dance?
The rumors had been right. Even after losing most of her reason, Torachiyo remained a martial fanatic in every sense.
"Then let's keep playing catch." Kiyo tossed the ball back. "Sorry. I'm too weak to dance with you."
Mikoshi Chiyo caught the ball but did not return it. Kiyo's face was reflected clearly in her golden eyes, cold and calm.
"Seigan of the past... the vow yet to come... can."
Was that encouragement?
Kiyo was surprised.
He had not expected this cold, unreadable girl to encourage him.
"Then I'll grow strong enough to dance with Chiyo." Kiyo smiled. "My goal is to become the strongest, after all. When that day comes, we'll dance."
Mikoshi Chiyo watched him quietly.
Gradually, the corner of her mouth lifted. Was that a smile? Kiyo could not tell. Her expression reminded him of fine rain drifting through the red maples beyond the window, their color bleeding faintly into the pale curtain of rain and lending the cool jade of her face a delicate flush.
Chiyo nodded.
Outside the shrine, night rain pattered steadily. It grew from gentle to heavy, blooming into splashes beneath the eaves.
Kiyo paused. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "There's going to be a gathering."
Mikoshi Chiyo froze.
He had not forgotten the purpose of his journey.
"Beneath the Sacred Sakura, at the Grand Narukami Shrine. Hanachirusato... or perhaps I should call her Kitsune Saiguu? She wants to invite you."
Kiyo lowered his eyes and chose his words carefully.
"We buried a great jar of sakura wine beneath the tree. It's delicious... Would you leave this place and come with me?"
Mikoshi Chiyo did not answer.
Kiyo watched the oni girl who had lost everything. Her eyes moved faintly. Her lips parted, closed again, then pressed into a thin line.
After a long while, she shook her head.
"No."
"Why?"
"Monster." Mikoshi Chiyo's voice was calm but stubborn. "Cannot... leave."
"I can cure you. It will only take some time." Kiyo looked earnestly into her eyes. "We can also use the Sacred Sakura—"
"No."
Mikoshi Chiyo retreated half a step. She lowered her gaze to her hands. Her pale fingers seemed to brim with blood...
Kiyo's words had called fragments back to her. She saw sakura branches drenched in blood. She saw the wound torn by the Tiger-Bite. She saw a pale, fading face... and still more images beyond them.
She shook her head stubbornly.
Kiyo noticed the change in her. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, a confusion of noises erupted outside the shrine.
Rain splashing. Earth scattering. Iron-shod hooves rising and falling.
And the blaze of fire.
Countless torches set the rainy night alight. Their glow shone through the shrine's ancient lattice windows, casting long shadows across the walls.
Ioroi came running inside. Sweat still covered his round, chubby face. Kiyo had never seen the little tanuki so frightened. Gasping for breath, he cried, "Bad people! Bad people are here!"
Bad people...
Kiyo looked through the lattice window.
One masked soldier after another stood beyond it. Miserable rain streamed over their armor and scattered in thin sprays. Delusions gleamed with a cold and sinister light throughout the darkness.
The Fatui.
Those were Fatui soldiers!
Kiyo's heart sank.
The Harbinger known as La Signora had been investigating him for months. He knew that much.
She had not known his exact appearance, but that had been months ago. Given the Fatui's methods, it was inevitable that they would uncover something in all that time.
Kiyo watched the Fatui soldiers with a dark expression.
Was La Signora here as well?
The Fatui's intelligence network was disturbingly swift. He had only just reached Chinju Forest and had not even left Narukami Island. Less than a day had passed, yet his whereabouts had already been exposed.
The first priority was to leave.
He turned toward Torachiyo.
She too was staring coldly through the window at the Fatui. Her golden eyes were lifeless and severe, like those of a beast whose territory had been violated.