I held his hand tightly and stifled the embarrassed giggle that tried to escape my lips. I’d never even held a man’s hand like this before, let alone snuck out into the warm inky evening.
“How much further?” I asked as we hurried along the street and out of sight.
“We’ll hide between the trees along the river,” Chouhei said quietly, trying to tamper down his excitement. We’d made it this far without being caught. “Nobody will see us there.”
Chouhei’s hand was strong yet gentle, holding onto mine. He never walked so fast that I couldn’t keep up in my wooden geta. The shoes tapped down the street, echoing in the quietness. A kind soul at heart, I could almost forget he was a soldier.
Tonight he was without armour or weapons, just thin cloth between myself and him. Soon he would go off to yet another skirmish and fight battles for daimyo and warlords. It was important, he told me, and I’m sure it was to him, but I just wanted another moment, another day with him. What if he kissed me? I would not want to let him go. If he died in battle, whoever would take my broken heart? I had already decided it was all for him.
It was scandalous, really, sneaking out of my home to be here with him. If we were caught I would bring much shame… but right now, in this moment, with the no moon to betray us, I didn’t care.
I trusted each step we took, leaving the main street and following a worn dirt path made by the farmers. It was harder to see out here, especially with the long fields of crops to hide us, and, who was awake to spot us now?
From the path, we made our way onto the soft grass and towards the darker shadows of the trees. During hot days, sometimes the children came out here to play, keeping out of the way of the busy farmers. Other times the workers rested under the shady branches, refreshed by the deep stream that cut through the town. In the darkness, however, the black branches reached out and fear began to creep into my heart.
“Are you sure this is right? What if there are ronin around? Or what if Iga-san is patrolling around here again? He will report you.”
“Okina, trust me,” he said gently. He stopped and took both of my hands. “You wanted to be alone, and this is the perfect place. Nobody can bother us here so we can be ourselves without comments.” He leant in close and I could feel his warm breath tickling my skin. “There are only a few more nights now until I leave; we should spend them together.”
I nodded. He was right. I shouldn’t let my fear get in the way.
“I’m sorry. Let’s continue.”
Even in the darkness I could tell Chouhei was smiling. “Good. We are nearly there now.”
My geta sunk deeper into the grass as we approached the safety of the oak trees. The stream always made the earth softer, and it had been raining heavily recently. One wrong step and I could slip. My mother would question me until morning if I went back with a twisted ankle.
I stepped away from the grass to the harder earth at the base of a tree. The low branches and thick leaves ensured we were finally out of sight.
It wasn’t often that I visited this side of the town, and the last time I had enjoyed the smell of the sesame growing in the nearby fields. Now a different smell lingered, rotten and foul. I wanted to suggest continuing on, but this really was the perfect place to hide.
“How long before we have to sneak back?” I asked, hoping our time could last all night long. I worried too, but tried desperately to push it away. I’d waited all day for this.
“Okina,” he said, pressing a finger to my lips. “Please, no more worrying.”
I spoke against his finger, “I don’t want you to risk a punishment because of me.”
“Too late.” He sighed dramatically and I could just about see a smile on his lips. “I already suffer punishment every time I’m away from you. My heart aches when I can’t see you, and even more so when I see but can’t touch you.”
I laughed and stared down at the vague dark shape of my feet. “My mother worries that my heart would break if I gave it to a soldier. What if you die in battle?”
“And what do you think?”
“I think that…” Heat filled my cheeks. I couldn’t tell him what I really thought! It was shameful to be so open with feelings. Instead thought about him leaving. “I am going to miss you.”
Chouhei let go of me. The cool air reached my slightly sweaty fingers and I missed his touch. But his hand quickly returned to my skin, cupping my chin and lifting it to face him.
“Is that all you’re thinking?”
My face burned hotter. He was going to kiss me this time, I was sure of it. Oh, my heart was pounding away in my chest and was I really ready to know what it was like? What if I didn’t like it?
“I—”
Chouhei didn’t wait for me to say any more before his lips moved closer. I closed my eyes, heartbeat thrashing away faster in my chest.
Oh I am certainly in love.
His lips descended on mine and pressed against them soft at first, slowly growing with hunger. The air around me suddenly chilled and every small touch made my skin burn deliciously hotter. Why did he have to leave me behind?
Chouhei broke the kiss and I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
“I will miss you too. But I will promise I’ll fight bravely and return to you, my love.”
I smiled as my insides twisted and turned in happiness. He really said it! “Is that what I am now?” I asked coyly, making sure what I heard was really true.
“Yes, of course.” Chouhei smiled and ran a thumb down my cheek. His face was beautiful, round and soft. “And soon we won’t have to hide away in dark surrounded by… whatever that smell is.”
“I thought it was only me who could smell it,” I said laughing all too easily now. He was all I wanted. “I didn’t realise the fields were so stinky.”
“They’re not normally,” he said, voice trailing off. Chouhei let go of me and turned around. “I think I smell burning.”
I sniffed the air. Still the rotten smell lingered, but I couldn’t smell burning. Instead it felt colder, like a chill winter wind. Chouhei started to walk away and I grabbed his arm.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Then come with me. I need to make sure nothing is burning.”
I frowned. “But you’d see it, surely?”
“Not always.” Chouhei reached for my hand gripping tight to his grey yukata. “Are you coming?”
I whimpered but nodded. I didn’t want to stand here alone in the darkness. Together we stepped closer to the stream still gurgling away. I tried to look out for anything, but everything was muted grey in the deep evening.
He paused.
“Chou—”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Taking my shoulders, he turned me around and pushed my back lightly. “Let’s go back this way.”
A giggle.
I froze. Was someone else here?
“Okina, go home.” Chouhei’s voice was gruffer than I’d ever heard before.
I couldn’t move. Not even to grab for his hand.
The air chilled deeper as a blue light illuminated the trees in front of me. Chouhei wrapped his arms tight around my waist and started to lift me, his breath heavy in my ears. He stopped. Whined. Held so tight I couldn’t turn back.
“Cho-Cho—”
He lay heavy against me now, I had to hold him up. Too heavy. All I could do was lower him to the ground as his weight pushed me down. He slipped out of my arms and landed with a hard thump, head smacking against the tree trunk.
“Chouhei?” I whimpered, kneeling down to shake him, rolling him onto his back. Tears flooded my eyes. “P-Please answer me.”
His back burnt blue as fire rose, pooling into a large ball of flame. I stared. Screamed. Scrambled backwards away from it all. An airy sound filled my ears, giggling over and over. I kept moving, crawling, my yukata opening and bare knees hitting the dirt. I made it as far as the stream before stopping, trying to catch a breath as I shook with fear. The blue light vanished. I scanned around and saw nothing. Just blackness.
“No, no it’s wrong. This is wrong,” I cried.
The rotting smell was stronger here, putrid and overpowering. Tearful coughs racked my chest. Food started to rise from my stomach. I bent over and spat it over the grass, planting my hand down to steady myself. A cold wetness covered my skin. Once my stomach had emptied I pulled it back away, bringing a fresh wave of rottenness.
Giggling.
No. No. No.
Blue light flooded the area once again. It rose as fire from the body slumped far from me. Chouhei. The fire split again and again into smaller flames, spreading out, heading closer. Beside me illuminated a new figure. I stared. He was dead, eyes open, blood coating the grass. His mire now slick on my fingers. I backed up further, falling into the stream, the blue flames following me. They danced in the air, growing brighter still until all I could see was blue. One dipped down fast towards my face, flames licking my skin as it brushed my cheek. I gasped. Choked on freezing air.
Tired. I was so tired.
My ears rang with fervent giggling as they darted around again, diving through my pink yukata into my arms, legs... My back exploded in pain. I cried out for Chouhei, for anyone, to hear me, to save me.
Again and again they came and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Even with my eyes shut I could still see the bright blue light.
Feeling ebbed away.
Just light, only light.
Mother had always warned me not to go out at night.
I should have stayed at home—
—and wondered why there was so much fog. In all my years I hadn’t seen such thick fog early in the morning. I could hardly see through some of it as I patrolled the streets. Farmers were eager to start tending to their fields and yet the long white patches clung to the greenery. Some had come to me soon after dawn speaking of strange noises in the night, screams and howls of a raging beast. They shut themselves away, unwilling to leave until the summer fog lifted. I’d promised them I’d search the whole town, it was my duty after all. There had also been more people reporting unrest lately, of ronin taking chances at our prosperous town, and I needed to keep everyone safe as best as I could.
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At my side I carried an uchigatana, a blade passed down our family for three generations. It wasn’t the best quality, but it made me feel better when patrolling. My grandfather named it Hogomaru—Protective Circle—to surround the family in its protection. It had worked so far; my grandfather and father both lived long lives before old age took them. I hoped to pass it on to my eldest son when I grew too old to wield it. I had already decided that I wanted to move to a coastal town for my final years. It was a dream, mostly. My duty kept me here.
The empty streets seemed smaller in the early morning, the houses towering higher, looming over me. Any danger could be hiding in the deceptive fog. I stopped my sandals from pattered loud against the wooden bridge as I crossed over the deep stream which cut through the town. It gurgled away crashing over rocks, and any other morning I would be soothed by the noise. But not today.
Continuing down the long street, I passed closed shops and quiet houses. Few dared to walk out in this weather, fear keeping them locked away. I wasn’t afraid, however. I’d fought off ronin and wild beasts before, and neither would be a match for Hogomaru. They’d ambushed me on the way to the temple posing as travellers and failed to hide their weapons well enough. I didn’t know what they had been planning, but Hogomaru had spilt blood on the street that day.
I took the first left now to check towards the shrine. The priest would be awake now, starting to pray. Had he heard anything?
I made it as far as the great torii gate before I stopped. It peeked through the low hanging fog, proving the gods stronger than any weather. It was reminders such as these that kept my faith strong.
A deep voice called out to me. “Iga-san?”
“Yes?”
“Thank goodness.” A male figure scurried out of a nearby house bowing. “I need to report something. My wife was awake last night, she couldn’t sleep. Said there was a beast out there or some kind of yokai. Horrible sounds she said. Screaming, wailing.”
I nodded and smiled to try and calm him. “Thank you. I have heard the same from others. The fog is frightening many. I will go and investigate and find the source. Perhaps it was kitsune and foxes playing tricks on us, they’ve done it before. Remember the kitsunebi that floated through the town. It was as bright as lanterns, deep red flames which frightened so many.”
He calmed a little and let out a short breath. “Yes, you’re right. The other farmers never forgave them for that. Some even gave Inari more food to make them stop. Thank you, Iga-san. I will let you continue.”
I bowed to him once more before he slipped back home. I didn’t think it was kitsune trickery, but I’d never let him know that. Nobody had spoke of lights or fire and the priest had assured me the kitsune had moved far away from us now. It had to be something else.
From here I could normally look out over the fields thick with green leaves of various crops. My favourite was the rows of sesame with their strong smell. Another was full of indigo plants, owned by the Sakata family who supplied the town with rich dye. The brother, Takayuki, always harvested in the late morning, before the sun reached its highest point. All our fields surrounded the town so workers didn’t have to travel too far. It made patrolling easier too. Now they were all smothered in a cottony whiteness.
I frowned. A flash of light, though brief, penetrated through the fog. Had some braved the weather after all? Or perhaps a glint against a blade. I watched a little longer, hoping my eyes or the fog had tricked me. Again it came, this time two rapid flashes.
Time to check it out.
Retracing my steps, I joined the main street until it branched off the side street that led to the fields. I kept my sandals as quiet as I could, hurrying along. If more ronin were around trying to attack, I would stop them. Hogomaru would taste blood again.
I scanned the area for more flashes, eyes running over the fields and down the path for any sign. Nothing. Away from the indigo fields, I started in the direction of a small copse of trees. The stream worked its way out here and fed a patch of oak trees; farmers used the shade for breaks and children came out to play in the water.
The water could, however, mute the sounds of movement. I knew all the tricks.
As I approached quietly, the fog thickened until I could barely see the tree trunks around me. A chill ran down my spine. The water crashed noisily here, more than it usually did. Or was it my imagination? I was only relying on my ears now, every normal sound echoing louder. I had to calm my own breathing to keep it quiet.
Giggling.
The air grew colder.
I drew Hogomaru and reached for a trunk to steady myself. Pressing my back to it, I was ready for anything. Silence. I stopped only to listen for any sound out of place. To the next trunk. I kept my steps slow, keeping to the driest earth. A cloying stench of rotting and burning clung to the heavy fog and I opened my mouth to try and avoid the smell. Instead it coated my throat.
Flash.
Too bright. I jammed my eyes shut. A step back and I slipped sideways. Crunch. A twig snapped under my weight. I steadied myself and took a shaky breath. The forest was just trying to frighten me. I looked down. Beneath my foot lay fingers, pale and almost ghostly.
Flash.
I clamped my mouth shut. This had to be the work of ronin. Bending quick to check the body, I saw no wounds, no blood. His skin wrinkled dry and taut. What?
The air turned icy; my breath billowed out of my nose. It was more than just the cool air from the water. I stood and took another step forward. What if the light was someone hurt? It was too bright to be the warmth of a lantern or fire but…
Another light, and another again. This time behind me, lighting the fog wildly. Fear gripped my insides, I wanted to run. Blue. There was no mistaking it now, the light was blue. I tried to calm my racing heart but I knew.
A dead body. Blue light… the source would be flames no doubt. Onibi. Flames that rose from the dead, luring in new victims. I sheathed Hogomaru, he couldn’t help me here.
I needed to find the stream, follow it back out far from here. Hand out in front, I quickened my steps, hurrying far from the body. The stream echoed from every side, water bubbling and crashing. Branches hung low, pulling at my kimono. And still the blue light flashed behind me, giggles ringing in the air.
A drop. The stream. My sandal splashed in the cool water. I picked a direction, upstream, and followed. Over slick wet rocks, avoiding the water as much as I could. It would lead me back to safety.
I froze as another form unveiled in the fog. Pink yukata, sodden, black hair running along in the water. I knew her, the young daughter of a friend.
“M-Mikumo-san?”
I hardened myself and looked away. She was dead.
Giggling.
Blue fire rose from Mikumo-san’s mud-stained yukata, blooming with renewed power. Splitting into smaller flames, they broke away from the body. I spun, clambering back onto the earth and ran. The fire shot around me quicker. Spinning, dancing. I threw myself though a gap between flames, knees hitting the ground hard. A buzzing, burning sound filled my ears. They would not stop until I was far away. I scrambled to my feet and ran.
I cried out, a force shoving me back down. I crawled, dragged myself. Anything to keep moving.
From my hand burst a blue flame. A gurgling cry escaped my lips and the flames grew brighter. Another darted towards me, burying deep in my throat. Pain seared through my veins. Nerves on fire. More circled me, giggling, blinding.
I don’t want to die.
It was my duty to protect and—
—dip the cloth into the indigo dye again. It would be the last commission of the morning before a break. I needed to take some food to my brother, Takayuki, who was out in the fields. He was late this morning due to a thick fog which had worked its way through the town. Our neighbour had worried about strange noises in the night, but patrols had gone out to check. I hadn’t heard anything myself, however I knew better than to dismiss such claims. I had seen a lot in all my years. Nobody made it to my age without seeing blood, battle, or crazed beasts. As a child I’d even caught a procession of yokai down the very streets I walked even now. A kitsune had called them close; I’d peeped out of a gap in a window late at night to watch.
I hung the last of the dyed cloth up to dry and dried my hands. I had started my life like my siblings, picking the leaves and working the fields, until I started to experiment with the dye we made. Mother had spotted it first, the patterns I made with the white fabric dipping it in the indigo. She’d encouraged me to continue, and started selling the items I made alongside our dye. At first I started with small pieces, making patterned furoshiki cloth for samurai to wrap their belongings in. They soon began to be popular enough that I could also move onto dying obi for the kimono makers. I often wore them myself, showing it off in the town.
Now I dyed whatever was asked of me. We could afford to take slower commissions thanks to the wealth gained over the years. We’d been lucky to live in a town samurai chose to stop in during their travels. Many of them rested their horses and spent days here before moving on again. Every business here boomed and in turn, we’d all profited.
Taking a small basket, I filled it with food for my brother, wrapped in a furoshiki I dyed just for him. He would be leant over the short plants now, muttering about his hands which had curled with overuse. However, he was too stubborn to listen to me, his older sister, and let someone else take over.
I slipped a few coins in for myself and a pot of dye to share, I’d promised myself a slow walk through the town, stopping to look at the wares.
I left my house behind and started down the main street. People had overcome their fear and started working again, merchants wandered, shops opened, and I could hear horses nearing. I stood aside to let the samurai pass, his gaze far from us walking the streets.
The red painted bridge was full of people today, stopping to glance down at the refreshing deep stream below. One of the men who patrolled the town stood frowning.
“I can’t find her anywhere,” one of the women, Hikaru-san, cried. “Do you really think she would run away?”
Another woman patted her arm. “Love makes us do strange things.”
“Mikumo-san,” the guard said. “I am sure we’ll find her soon.
I stepped closer. “Who is missing?”
Hikaru-san hurried to me, taking my hands. “Okina, I haven’t seen her since last night. Has she been to you? I know she was going to buy an obi from you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s not come to see me yet.”
“Perhaps Iga-san has seen her. He patrolled out early this morning. I haven’t seen him yet, though.”
Hikaru-san nodded in defeat. I felt for her. The young made spontaneous decisions at the strangest times. I didn’t dare voice the strange noises that people had heard in the night, no doubt she already connected them.
“I can ask my brother if he’s seen her,” I offered, lifting my basket. “I’m about to bring him some food.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m going to check the shrine again. If she’s not there, maybe the gods can guide me.”
I left Hikaru-san and followed the path onwards from the town and out to the wide open fields. The stream flowed down here too, and a small group of trees grew nearby. Often I’d find Takayuki resting in the shade. Sometimes children would be with him, usually ones he’d tried and failed to employ to help him pick the leaves. He wasn’t as fast as he used to be, and he’d lost his only son years ago to sickness.
The sun was too bright and I had to shield my eyes to try and spot him in the green field, but he wasn’t there. I’d check the trees first, and leave the furoshiki there if he was not. I was too old to be wandering up and down the fields in search of my younger brother. When I found him, I’d scold him again. He’d apologise, begging for forgiveness, and I’d roll my eyes and forgive him. Tomorrow he’d do exactly the same, disappearing off where I can’t find him. As was our way. I’d stopped being angry with him long ago, but enjoyed our routine now.
I frowned as I crossed the path, closer to the shady oak trees. The last of the fog hadn’t lifted after all, some still wrapped itself around the dark trunks, masking the trees and stream beyond from view.
“Takayuki?” I called, not expecting an answer. Nobody would choose to be in that.
The whole area was eerie, even the birds stopped their happy songs. Looking at it sent shivers down my spine. Reaching for a low branch of an outer tree, I slipped the handle of the furoshiki over the end; it hung graciously on the sturdy branch. Takayuki would see it up there as soon as he paused for a break, I always left it here for him.
“Takayuki?” I tried a second time.
The air returned a whispering giggle, but not that of my brother. A sudden chill surrounded me, sinking deep into my skin. Even covered in my yukata, I could feel the hairs on my arms standing tall. There was no mistaking the fear that clawed at my belly, the same fear I’d felt as a child, peering out of my window at the procession of grotesque yokai.
Despite knowing I needed to leave, my feet were rooted to the spot. The fog swirled around me, reaching out and urging me closer. Along it brought the tell-tale stench of death.
Flash. The fog bloomed a bright blue.
And I knew. Oh, I certainly knew.
Onibi.
I was sure of it. Demon fire, they called it, born from death itself. And now they were after me.
I bit back a cry. Someone or some thing had to be dead in there. Had my brother been lured into their embrace too? I couldn’t let anyone else fall to them. Eventually they’d fade away without a new body to feed from but…
The fog surrounded me now. I had only one moment to act.
From my basket I pulled the pot of dye and let the rest drop. I forced my legs to move back until the dirt path lay under my geta and opened the pot. Dye dripped and splashed in quick movements, spreading out as wide as I could.
おにび
Onibi.
Snappy winds blew against me, but it was too late. The dye soaked deep into the brown earth, the word clear to see.
Giggling. They were closer now. I glanced to the dye pot in my hand. Within it sat fire, dyed blue with indigo. It rose higher, dripping dye. I screamed and threw it all onto the grass. An iciness spread in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.
But I wasn’t done, not yet.
I ran. Panting, gasping for any air. My legs felt numb, so numb. I wasn’t sure how I was still standing. I just knew I had to.
The air bubbled and giggled in my ears. And still my feet carried on. The indigo field was close now. Far enough away from town, from the other fields.
I would stop them killing again.
Exhaustion hit. Pain lanced my chest. Dirt filled my vision as I fell. Indigo plants surrounded me, I couldn’t see the onibi yet but I didn’t need to. They would find me.
I hoped I was far enough away.
I hoped Takayuki was alive.
I hoped it would be quick and—