~~~

After putting at least twenty trees between them and Aya, Miho wrestled back control of his arm and asked what was going on.

Sachiko checked back again, making sure there was no one watching, then slipped her right hand inside her yukata. As she did so, the muscle in her arm twinged, followed by her leg as she stepped back awkwardly onto an uneven mound of dirt.

‘Wah, it’s tight…’ she said, wincing from the pain.

‘Probably from walking so much.’

‘This stupid leg…is not working properly.’

Miho knelt down and put his hand near her calf. ‘May I?’

‘What are you doing?’

‘My mum used to do this for me when I got cramp. It’s a massage technique.’ He moved his palm up the back of her calf, then ran his knuckles the other way. ‘Wah, your skin is pretty cold. Are you feeling okay?’

‘Get off me.’

‘You might have caught something from being outside so long in the cold air.’

Sachiko turned her face away from Miho and raged full purple, shooting sparks down the veins and bones of the host body, unintentionally producing a reflex in the leg that kicked Miho onto the bank of the stream.

‘Looks like it’s better,’ he said, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at what he’d almost hit to the right. ‘Ah, shungiku, I found it. Sort of.’

‘How dare you touch my leg,’ said Sachiko, stretching out both her calf and right arm at the same time.

‘Sorry, I was just trying to help.’ Miho stood back up and peeled off his dōbuku, making a move to drape it round her shoulders. ‘You’re still way too cold though.’

‘I do not want your clothing.’

‘It’s very warm.’

‘Take it off.’

Miho let go and took a step back, evaluating the placement. ‘It actually looks quite good on you.’

‘Do your ears not work?’

‘Of course, it’s better if you tie it up. I’ll let you do that part yourself.’

Sachiko grabbed part of the dōbuku and squeezed it tight, but didn’t take it off. Turning her eyes to the crop of shungiku on the bank of the stream, she pointed and said, quite sharply, ‘pick.’

‘Right, I almost forgot about those,’ replied Miho, getting back on his knees and pulling the basket to within dropping range. ‘Too busy admiring you in my jacket.’

He added a chuckle at the end, but it didn’t matter as Sachiko wasn’t listening. She was too focused on pulling the dagger from her blood-spotted yukata and figuring out the best area to stab. Back of the neck seemed the easiest. One swift strike downwards. But could she rely on this host body’s wrist strength to get it done? Maybe not. The legs were already falling apart, other parts could be in decay too. In which case, slicing the throat would be the wiser course. Grab his hair, pull the head back tight and cut. Carve if she had to.

Going with the second option, she moved forward, using the denser patches of grass to disguise her approach. A bird screeched in the branches above, perhaps a warning to her prey.

It went unheeded, the idiot boy jabbering about the quality of the shungiku he was picking.

Yes, keep jabbering, she thought, creeping closer. Jabber, jabber, jabber while I drain your blood. With these pitiful human hands.

The bird screeched again, determined.

And once again, it was ignored.

Ha, foolish child…completely oblivious to everything around you.

Getting within touching range, Sachiko held the dagger out and tilted it right, putting her other hand right next to the largest clump of hair that she could locate.

‘For defying a god…’ she whispered, counting to four.

In one fluid, purple-assisted motion, she closed her left hand around the hair, slid the dagger to the side and watched in sheer panic as a bunch of shungiku appeared out of nowhere, the hand attached to it batting the blade out of her grip and down into the stream.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

‘See how healthy they look,’ started Miho, before hearing the splash in the water and then seeing Sachiko clutching her hand in a mix of pain and anger. ‘Wah, are you okay? Did I hit you?’

‘… … … … … …,’ she screamed, falling to her knees and scrambling towards the stream.

‘Hey, where are you going? Did something fall in the river?’

‘Can’t see it…’

Miho shuffled across the grass and put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back from the edge. ‘Careful, it’s freezing in there.’

‘It’s gone……’

‘What did you drop?’

Sachiko stopped struggling and buried her face in the grass. She stayed that way for about two minutes as Miho gently patted her shoulders, telling her that whatever it was that dropped in, he would buy her another one.

‘Just stab yourself,’ she said, in a barely audible voice.

‘What?’

‘Or let me crawl up and bite you to death.’

‘Sorry, I can’t hear you well, your face is in the grass.’

Rolling herself over onto her back, she pushed away his hands and glared up at his throat, the rays from the sun forcing her to squint like a drunkard. ‘Ah, these eyes…’

‘You shouldn’t look directly at the sun, it’s dangerous.’

‘… … … … …’

‘Sorry?’

Sachiko put a hand up to shield her malfunctioning human eyes. ‘I said, get back over there and pick more vegetables.’

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘I will be once I find a particularly large rock.’

‘Err…okay then. I’ll get back to the shungiku picking. Let you lie here and recover for a while.’

~~~

Quickly putting the dagger incident behind her, Sachiko forced herself up and went for a stroll farther down the stream, scanning the less grassy patches for usable rocks.

In the background, Miho kept talking at a higher volume as he picked more shungiku, asking if she’d seen anyone on the way back from Nirasaki.

‘No.’

Sachiko stopped, kneeling down next to a larger than usual pebble. She picked it up and gripped it in her hand, then turned and tried to imagine the kind of crater it might make on the back of Miho’s skull.

‘You didn’t come across a woman in a white yukata?’

‘I did not.’

She dropped the pebble back into the dirt, then picked it up again and threw it in the stream. Her pupils lit up indigo, making her right arm spasm. A whole stream bank and no rocks big enough to even wound an ant.

‘Wah, you’re really lucky then. I met a woman like that a couple of days ago, on the same path.’

‘Really…’

Her eyes turned away from the stream and towards the trees on the other side. Ah, if it couldn’t be a rock…

‘She said the guy on the path…the guy I’d just walked into and found, unconscious…was her friend. Then she offered me sex to bring him to her.’

‘And you turned her down,’ said Sachiko, picking up a twig nearly the same size as her dagger and picking at the tip with her fingernail.

‘It was a bit weird. Yeah, I refused cos I already have a girlfriend. Though, to be honest, she was quite pretty.’

‘Quite?’

‘But then her body turned into purple mist and she threatened to kill me for not helping her.’

‘… … … … …’ cursed Sachiko in her native tongue as the twig snapped in two.

‘At least, I think that’s what happened. It may have been a hallucination. See, there was this chicken I’d eaten before all that, Kumamoto style chicken, but it was blue so I’m not sure…maybe it poisoned me a bit. Made me see weird things.’

Giving up on the weapon search, Sachiko squeezed her two hands together, shaking them slightly as more purple energy flowed inside. ‘Do you know what I would have done, if I were you?’

‘About the purple mist woman?’

‘If such an interesting, unique being had approached me in that way?’

‘I don’t know. Run away?’

‘No.’

‘Had sex with her?’

Sachiko walked back to the edge of the stream and along the dirt to where Miho was still picking shungiku, his back turned. Knocking her fists together, she unfolded and placed the palms of her hands on both sides of Miho’s neck.

‘I would’ve assisted the pretty woman,’ she whispered, tightening her grip.

‘Wah…’ replied Miho, his shoulders giving out an upwards reflex, trying to twist the hands off.

‘That’s it…turn around.’

‘Stop…’

‘Show me the throat.’

‘No, stop…I can’t…’

Miho twisted the whole left side of his body then raised up an arm and shrugged her off. She came straight back at him, aiming for the throat and failing completely as he seized hold of her wrists.

‘Get off me,’ she screamed, the voice faltering on the last word.

‘I’m sorry…your hands…it felt too good. If Yuki knew I let another girl do that…’

‘Felt good?!’

There was noise from the trees, not a bird.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Aya, walking out from between two trunks, adding another cough at the end, just in case.

‘Err…nothing.’ Miho grabbed the basket and sprang to his feet, almost losing his balance and toppling down into the stream. ‘We were picking shungiku. Just finished actually. Right?’

He looked down at the cramped-up figure of Sachiko, who simply muttered, ‘I hate this body.’

‘You came back fast,’ continued Miho, moving over to Aya. ‘What did Himiko say?’

‘That we should all come back immediately.’

‘Right, good idea. We definitely have enough shungiku now. Are you ready, Sachiko?’

Miho and Aya both turned to their despondent colleague, who had recovered enough of her mind to say she would stay back a while, look for more vegetables.

‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ said Miho.

‘Me neither,’ added Aya, frowning at the mess on Sachiko’s yukata, ‘she may fire you if you don’t turn up soon.’

‘I’m fine. Go.’

‘Err…okay. If you’re certain that’s what you want?’

‘You can give the dōbuku back later,’ added Miho, rubbing his neck and wincing a bit. ‘Or keep it for a while. I don’t mind really.’

‘Stop talking at me and leave.’

Looking at the contents of the basket, Miho and Aya raised eyebrows at each other in the universal symbol of what the fuck’s up with her, then headed a little stiffly back along the path.

A mountain eagle-hawk swooped low over the canopy to signal their departure, completely messing up its attempt to snare an idling hawfinch.

Smirking at the hawk’s failure, Sachiko turned and looked at the now distant, ant-like forms of the two humans.

‘Yes, leave, little wretches,’ she muttered, scanning the path for a new twig. ‘Let me get some strength back…so I can come visit you tonight. Both of you.’