~~~

The box was shaking again, violently.

Five of the six ashigaru nearby stopped where they were and quickly drew their katanas, as if the ghost of Taira no Masakado were going to jump out any second and massacre them.

A passing vanguard of scout ants stopped too, though they were too small to have katanas, or daggers, so they just gawped upwards at the giant monolith instead.

‘Definitely something in there,’ said Takuya, the largest and, judging by the spit that flew out with his voice, most brainlessly aggressive of the group.

The other ashigaru replied chaotically, shouting over each other, their trembling blades aimed vaguely at the box’s lid.

‘Told you…I fucking told you it wasn’t empty.’

‘You think it wants out?’

‘Gods, it’s restless.’

‘Restless? Drunk more like.’

‘Could be a bear.’

‘No, it’s a ghost!’

‘An enemy soldier!’

‘A bear ghost!’

‘Bear demon!’

‘Kappa!’

‘Bunch of idiot fucking brain cells pissing themselves over a box.’

‘Wah, who said that?’ shouted Takuya, shifting his katana in the direction of Akira, the only member of the group who hadn’t panicked at the sight of the vibrating box. If anything, he looked kind of bored.

‘Point your toy somewhere else,’ the lax ashigaru replied, stretching his arms out and yawning as he scanned the forest around them.

‘Toy what?’

‘You heard me.’

‘This blade right here…a toy?’

‘Guess not.’

‘Stop bickering,’ said one of the others, katana hand still shaking a little.

‘Who?’

‘Both of you.’

‘Kuso, he just said our brains were…’ Takuya paused, thinking back to what was just said and frowning. ‘He said all your brains were pissing on the box.’

The four ashigaru with their katanas still half-drawn heard the word box and looked at it again. It had ceased its convulsion act and now appeared to be a regular box again. Well, not regular exactly; four feet long, two feet deep, lacquered wood, gold hinges, two sinister-looking birds carved on the side with wings the size of temples. It was definitely something valuable. And mysterious. And important. Lord Shingen himself, in person, without make-up, had instructed them to escort it to a specific worship point in the forest, and then yank off the lid, all without giving them any idea as to why.

‘Okay, it’s stable again,’ muttered one of the ashigaru, patting the side of the box.

‘Maybe we’re imagining it. Heightened nerves or something.’

‘I am pretty tired.’

‘Or maybe it’s Shingen’s pet dog and we’re taking it out for a walk.’

‘Yeah, a little shih tzu maybe.’

‘With its mouth gagged so it can’t bark.’

‘Gods below…’ Akira shook his head and walked farther along the path, stopping beside a giant larch tree at the bottom of a generic slope. Next to it was a sign, worn down by previous winter storms and tilted slightly to the side.

‘Worship Point – 50M,’ he read out loud.

One of the other ashigaru, a young rookie called Yasu, appeared next to him and asked very politely how much longer it would take.

Akira responded by pointing at the sign.

‘Wah, I hope the M means metres.’

‘Ask your brain.’

Yasu coughed, performing a hasty bow. ‘Sorry, meijin. I was just trying to lighten the-…’

‘Akira.’

‘Err…’

‘You know I hate all that honorific shit.’

‘But you’re samurai. A higher rank.’

Akira let the word end then growled Akira again, clipped Yasu on the ear to make it stick then started up the slope.

Behind them, the other ashigaru had sheathed their katanas and two of the larger ones were carrying the box forward again, with Takuya showing off his strength by using only one hand.

‘Almost there,’ he said, when they reached the sign.

‘Thank the chubby cheeks of Ebisu,’ replied Junto, the roundest of the group.

‘Wah, don’t say that, he might appear,’ blurted out his polar opposite, Gen, waving a skinny arm in the air like a herbed-up geisha.

‘Good, then I can thank him in person.’

‘No, no…he’ll punish you.’

‘For saying thank you?’

‘I’m serious. All these gods are super sensitive. If you don’t do exactly what they say, they’ll get angry. And you want to call him here like a maid.’

‘Ah…maids,’ said Junto dreamily, staring up into the autumn yellow canopy of the trees as they started up the slope. ‘Probably the finest material pleasure this shit-stain world has to offer.’

‘Yeah, long as they don’t talk,’ countered Takuya, his tone quite bitter.

‘What do you mean? I love hearing them talk. They have the best stories. Did I ever tell you about the girl in Wakayama? She was fantastic. Had eyes like two little jade stones. Possibly mage-assisted, I don’t know. And her stories…you won’t believe this, but she told me that each warlord secretly has a cabal of child-eating demons assisting them, each one operating out of a local izakaya, in the back rooms, and-…no, it’s true, the only reason no one knows about them is cos these demons can disguise themselves as humans. Usually beautiful women so they can get what they want from the warlord. And the reason they help the warlords is basically all down to the-…’

‘We’re here,’ said Akira, breaking Junto’s tale and making him look confused for a second as he gawped at their surroundings.

He wasn’t alone either; all the other ashigaru were doing the same thing, standing in the forest clearing that had come out of nowhere, staring at the six hinoki poles dug into the ground nearby. On top of each pole was a polished human skull, with green paint smeared over the eye sockets.

‘This is pleasant,’ said Gen nervously, checking the gaps between the surrounding tree trunks.

‘Fake, you mean,’ answered Takuya, giving the signal to lower the box.

‘Huh?’

‘Those skulls are clearly papier-mâché.’

‘You think so?’

‘No samurai would leave a skull behind like this. They’d bag it, take it home to show their family.’

‘True,’ said Yasu, glancing over at Akira and nodding a little too enthusiastically. ‘That’s what a real samurai would do.’

‘And me,’ agreed Gen. ‘My wife loves skulls. Turns them into little cups.’

Takuya moved closer to one of the skulls and rubbed his finger over the green markings. Then ran it down the edge of the cheekbone. Satisfied, he turned back to the group and repeated, ‘papier-mâché.’

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Akira did what he did best and shook his head in mild disgust. ‘Let’s just get this over with, shall we? It’s starting to get dark.’

‘Don’t be scared, big warrior man,’ replied Takuya, mimicking the voice of a nervous child, ‘there’s a ryokan a few kilometres along the path, remember? We’ll spend the night there.’

‘But…we’re supposed to return to Kōfu immediately,’ interrupted Yasu, standing up straight. ‘Those were our orders.’

‘Nonsense. They said as soon as the task is completed. Both of them, Shingen and Ka Yukio.’

‘That’s the same thing.’

‘Are you arguing with a senior, boy?’

‘No…meijin. I was just saying what our orders were.’

‘Sounds like arguing to me.’

‘Leave the kid alone, Takuya,’ said Junto, patting his stomach. ‘He’s only been with us a month.’

‘A long month,’ muttered Gen.

Takuya sucked in his gut and broadened his shoulders. ‘Mind your own business, fatty. This is a matter of protocol. Juniors must know their place or our whole system is meaningless.’

‘Well, I think that ship sailed,’ said Akira, just loud enough to be picked up, ‘about eighty-odd years ago.’

Takuya’s hand moved to the guard of his katana. ‘What did you say?’

‘Sailed and sunk, to be more accurate.’

‘Yeah?’

Akira looked at the katana sliding slowly from its scabbard and smiled. ‘Posturing again, Tak?’

‘Keep making jokes, dead man.’

‘Sure. But about what? Your performance at Un no Kuchi? How you led bravely from behind my back?’

Before Takuya could respond or growl, the box began shaking yet again. The other four ashigaru reached as one for their katanas, only this time none of them lost their wits enough to draw them.

‘Someone nail that fucking lid shut,’ barked Takuya.

‘Can’t do that, we’re supposed to open it now,’ replied Yasu, gesturing at the hinoki poles and the skulls. ‘As soon as we get to the clearing. The exact orders of Lord Shingen.’

‘Fine, open it then.’

Yasu looked around at the others and then back at the box; the vibrations had become so strong that the lid had begun to lift itself up.

‘It’s a two-man job,’ he said, glancing at Akira.

‘I recommend Gen,’ the older warrior answered, pulling out a sheet of rice paper from inside his dōbuku and moving off to the other side of the clearing. Unrolling it, he started reading out names to himself; other daimyō in nearby provinces and their starting salary offers.

Yasu bit his tongue and turned to Gen.

‘Bad back. Can’t do it.’

Then to Takuya, who was glaring at him and jabbing his hand towards the box.

‘Look, I need someone to help me,’ Yasu barked, turning to the ashigaru who no one could remember the name of. ‘You.’

‘I am fox fox boy from the pink river of Mooboo.’

‘No, the lid, can you help me with it?’

The nameless ashigaru closed his mouth, put three fingers on his nose and pinched. He did it so long that his face went red and his body fell to the ground.

‘Leave him, he’s insane,’ said Takuya.

Muttering curses to himself, Yasu turned finally to the only option left.

‘I need a shit,’ Junto said blankly, looking over at the trees.

‘Now?’

‘No. Since we left Kōfu. I’ve been holding it for hours.’

‘But the lid…’

‘Sorry, kid, it’s bad for the gut if you keep it in.’

Junto let out a deep breath and patted his stomach again, then wandered off between the larch trees. Yasu did another lap of the other ashigaru faces, saw that his one, potential ally, Akira, had almost disappeared from sight completely, then threw his hands up in the air and said, ‘wah, who’s gonna help me with this stupid lid?’

As soon as the moan was complete, the lid made a final grinding noise and then crashed to the ground with a surprisingly soft thud. One of its edges landed close to one of the hinoki poles, making the whole thing shudder and the skull on top roll from its perch.

‘A great omen,’ whispered Gen, looking down at the empty eye sockets pointed back at him.

‘Right, it’s off,’ said Takuya, putting his katana away. ‘Job done. Now let’s see what it is that we’ve been sweating over.’

Yasu nodded and turned to the box, putting a hand on one of the slats at the side and leaning over…

‘Wah…’ he spat out, stumbling back a step as something began to rise out of the box.

‘What is that?’

‘A cat?’

‘Hair?’

‘Stowaway?’

The three ashigaru who weren’t either unconscious on the ground, studying a list of potential new masters, or taking a shit, stared with their mouths slightly agape and their eyes watery as the head of a beautiful, dark-skinned woman emerged, followed by a thin smile on crimson lips, and, finally, shoulders without any kind of clothing material strapped onto them.

‘She’s…’

‘Can’t be…’

‘…naked.’

‘…real.’

‘Is that smoke?’

Being the nearest to the box, Yasu was the first to notice the purple tinged vapour trailing the woman as she rose higher, and then also the first to comprehend that her skin appeared to stop dead below the collarbone and-…

‘That’s not possible,’ he whispered, as the purple vapour grew thicker and the woman’s head rose above them, the only part that was identifiably human.

‘Demon!’ shouted Takuya, pulling out his katana.

‘Wait,’ said Gen, tilting his head as if he were admiring a work of art. ‘This is Lord Shingen’s box.’

‘Yes, with a demon inside it.’

‘Exactly. His demon.’

The woman’s head swayed the outline of an infinity logo, her eyes honing in on Gen. Sensing he had won an audience, the thin ashigaru took a step forward and held out his hands, gripping them together in a sign of friendship. At least that’s what he hoped it was.

‘We are the ones who have carried you here,’ he said, raising his voice yet careful not to make it command-like. ‘You have nothing to fear from us.’

‘What are you doing?’ hissed Takuya, hand still clutching his katana.

‘Diplomacy,’ Gen whispered back.

‘Well, it’s annoying. Stop it.’

‘Hey, what’s with all the yelling?’ yelled Junto from somewhere among the trees nearby.

The woman bobbed her head, studying the faraway trees, then floated on top of the purple mist around the three ashigaru below. Whether it was the mist controlling the head or vice versa was impossible to discern, and didn’t really matter, as the overall effect was still creepy. Yet, at the same time, quite soothing.

Probably due to the female face, thought Gen, as it drifted down to examine him close up.

‘To be truthful, we did not know what was inside the box. If we had known it was a being such as yourself, we would’ve made efforts to make your journey more comfortable.’

The woman’s eyes narrowed, as did her mouth. ‘Do you know what I find uncomfortable?’ she asked, her voice half words, half breeze.

‘Err…I’m not sure.’

‘The box?’ offered Yasu, seeing Gen’s own discomfort.

The woman shot a quick glance at the young ashigaru, then moved in closer to Gen, her mouth widening to reveal no teeth.

‘Food that talks.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Food that screams, on the other hand…’

The open mouth grew larger, swallowing up the woman’s entire head, and then dispersed into more purple mist. Before Gen could even utter the first sound of the ancient Japanese word for ‘fuck’, a strip of purple formed to his left and slashed diagonally across his chest.

There was no feeling…until he tried to reach for his katana.

And even then it was brief.

Merely a cold, vacuum-like sensation in the middle of his lungs as the top half of his torso slid off and landed on a troupe of ants resting on the grass below. Luckily, none of them were seriously injured.

Gen, however, was as dead as a sliced-in-half man could be.

With his katana already out and well-angled, Takuya should’ve been the first to react. However, the sight of the purple mist swirling around the blood-lined midriff of his comrade, making pedantic little slash marks on the remaining skin, rooted him to the spot.

‘Gen…’ he whispered, barely even a word.

Another strip of purple detached from its source and streamed towards him, performing a series of side swipes that left him with cuts on his face and neck.

Still he didn’t move.

‘Meijin…’ screamed Yasu, charging at the mist from behind with his katana pointing slightly to the side, ready to slash.

The stream of mist made no attempt to adjust its position. Instead, it used its other strip to pick up Gen’s lower body and fling it at Yasu’s head.

It connected, knocking him off balance but not off his feet, as he stabbed his katana down into the dirt to steady himself.

‘Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ka ka ka ka,’ screamed the oddball ashigaru on the floor, waking up from his self-enforced nap.

Yasu looked down confused, expecting to see the purple mist attacking his comrade-in-arms, but there was none. Only the tip of his own katana sticking out of the weird ashigaru’s left hand.

‘Kuso…’ he said, pulling his katana out and getting a geyser of blood in the face.

‘Waaaaaaaa tatatata waaaaa tatataa,’ continued the injured ashigaru, even louder than a minute ago, and before Yasu could bend down and tell him to put a sock in it, a blur of purple swarmed past and silenced him for good.

‘No, no, no…’ said Yasu, wiping the blood from his face, then closing his eyes completely when he saw the mutilated pieces of his mad comrade on the ground below.

‘Yasu,’ muttered Takuya, still frozen, as the mist rushed back to him, the woman’s face reforming itself. ‘Do something…’

‘You are far too tall,’ she said, nodding at her own words, then using her purple vapour tail to swipe at his legs.

As with Gen, the mist cut through like a laser, separating Takuya at the knees and putting him flat on his back next to the fleeing troupe of ants.

‘Still too tall,’ said the woman’s head, floating directly above him, then utilising her tail again to take off his head.

‘Meijin,’ yelled Yasu, pushing himself forward again, his katana aimed directly ahead.

‘You are particularly annoying,’ the woman replied, spinning back round.

‘Die demon!’

‘And loud.’

The woman’s head subsumed itself back into the body of mist and shot a tendril at inhuman speed right into Yasu’s mouth. The young ashigaru’s lunatic charge halted instantly, with both hands reaching for his own throat, clawing at the thing inside. He gasped desperately for breath, accidentally kicked his katana, tried to conjure up enough strength in his vocal chords to scream, ‘die demon,’ one more time…

‘Silly human boy,’ whispered the woman, blowing purple wisps into his eyes.

The tip of the tendril burst out of his stomach, followed by the rest of its arm. Yasu’s torso had little choice but to split in two and spill his lower organs onto the grass below.

Despite this, and to the young man’s credit, he did manage to spit out the D of Die demon before expiring.

‘Beautiful,’ said the woman’s head, bobbing serenely on waves of purple mist, admiring her work.

‘Keep it down will you…’ came another shout from the trees. ‘I’m trying to get the second part of this shit out.’

The woman’s head turned, scanned the surrounding trunks and canopy, then shot off at murderous mist speed towards the voice.

~~~

About fifty metres away from the clearing, Junto leaned forward until his hands were gripping his ankles and tried one more squeeze.

He even said a strangled ‘please’ to go with it.

But it was no good.

Just like the last Ebisu knows how many times, he couldn’t shit properly. The first part, okay, but there was always something left that just wouldn’t come out. And he knew if he didn’t get it out now, his stomach would start aching later and then his whole dinner schedule would be ruined.

‘Stupid asshole,’ he grunted, glaring at the small of his back. ‘Just do what I say for once, will you?’

The asshole didn’t reply.

Shaking his head, Junto glanced back towards the clearing. At least it was quieter now, he thought. All that screaming had really been pissing him off. Trained ashigaru acting like little kids, for what? It was probably just some animal bones or human skulls in the box, nothing they hadn’t seen before.

Unless it wasn’t.

But what else could it be?

Trying one final squeeze and almost passing out from the effort, he pulled himself back up into a sitting position and said, ‘hey,’ to the pretty face bobbing on purple mist no more than a metre in front of him.

Wait, what…

‘Let me help you with that,’ said the woman’s head, smiling as a purple tendril rose up and then sailed through Junto’s guts as if they were the lightest sponge.

He rolled forward into the mist, the second part of his shit spilling out onto the grass, just missing another troupe of ants awaiting the return of their scouting party.

The vapour swirled and this time crackled with electric sparks as Junto’s head and heart were consumed by the demon.

When the feast was done, the mass of purple funnelled itself into the shape of a full-bodied woman, with the same head as before. Licking her fingers, she looked down at the remains of Junto, and then back over towards the clearing.

‘Fat man here, four over there…’ She paused, taking the finger out of her mouth and jabbing her chin. ‘And one more for dessert.’