Getting to the next village was not a piece of cake. After walking two hours with the demon latched onto his back, Kota’s legs and waist screamed with every step he took. Sweat dripped down his brow and his breathing was ragged. It didn’t help that all of his food and water had been consumed by the demon.

The demon was in much better condition, having dozed off on Kota’s shoulder. Kota had pulled the hood of the cloak up to cover the demon’s ears. The cloak hung low enough to conceal the demon’s bushy tail. If someone saw him carrying a demon, it would basically be a death sentence.

Up ahead, the village came into sight. The village was surrounded by a tall wall of tall bamboo shoots driven into the ground. At the entrance of the path there was a moveable section of bamboo serving as the gate. There were two scarecrows standing in front of the gate.

“Almost there,” Kota muttered to himself.

Steeling himself, Kota managed to stagger his way to the gate. As he neared, he saw that they two figures weren’t scarecrows. Instead, it was two men whose bodies were covered with straw laced together in what looked like a suit of armor. The one on the left carried a shovel and the one on the right carried a rake. Both wore rice hats on their heads.

“Halt!” shouted the man on the right, a pudgy man who looked like a pig.

Obediently, Kota stopped ten feet away from the gate.

“Actually, come a little closer,” said the man on the left, a tall, thin man who looked like a snake.

“Why are you letting this bugger get so close?” hissed the pudgy man.

“I don’t wanna step away from the gate,” replied his tall friend.

“Coward,” spat the pudgy man. “Oi! Come a bit closer mate!”

Kota took a few steps forward. A cold sweat broke on his brow. If the demon awoke, he wasn’t sure what its reaction would be. To him it might behave like a human, but with strangers…

“You’re lookin’ a little nervous, mate!” said the pudgy man, glaring at Kota. “You hidin’ somethin’ from us?”

“No sir,” said Kota, keeping his gaze level.

“He’s just kiddin’ with ya,” said the thin man, forcing a laugh. The pudgy man silenced him with a glare.

“What you have there on your back?” asked the pudgy man.

“It’s my little sister,” said Kota. “She’s tired from walking.”

“Oh yeah?” said the pudgy man. “Lemme have a quick looksie.”

Heart pounding, Kota knelt. He flexed his leg muscles, preparing himself in case he had to flee. Even with the demon on his back, he was sure he could outrun these poor excuses for guards.

The pudgy man peered underneath the hood of the cloak. A moment later, the pudgy man leaned backwards, eyes wide and face pale. Kota’s heart sank and dug his feet into the ground, getting ready to sprint.

“Y-yeah it’s his sister all right,” said the pudgy man.

Stolen story; please report.

Kota frowned.

“He beat his little sister to a pulp!” the pudgy man hissed to his friend.

“Shhh! Shhh!” the tall man whispered back. “I don’t wanna die here!”

“Is there a problem?” asked Kota, interrupting their conversation.

“No no no, mate,” said the pudgy man, grinning at Kota. “Go on ahead, good sir.”

Kota relaxed and stepped forward when the two men pulled the gate aside. Before he entered, the pudgy man stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.

“If yer just passin’ by, don’t worry ‘bout what the kid with the red hair says,” said the pudgy man. “Also, make sure ya stay on the path.”

Kota thanked the man for the tip with a nod and trudged past the gate. What he saw shocked him. The village itself was surrounded by another wall of thick wooden logs. Between the inner wall and the outer bamboo wall was a battlefield. Holes and trenches were dug in the clearing. The holes housed sharpened stakes to impale those who fell in. Men and women worked to cover the pits with a thin layer of straw disguised as the ground.

“Hurry!” shouted one man. “We only got a couple o’ hours til nightfall!”

Kota lowered his head and hurried down the path. From what he had seen, the traps were rudimentary and the men were farmers, not soldiers. It was only a matter of time before this village was run over by the demons.

“Hey!” called a voice from behind Kota.

Kota turned. Behind him stood a man who looked to be in his early twenties. He was a short man, only coming to Kota’s shoulder. He wore the same straw armor as the guards that made him look even stockier than he already was. Lastly, the man’s head was covered by a mess of curly bright red hair, tied into a bun.

“You a passerby?” said the youth, walking up to Kota.

“Yes,” said Kota, the pudgy man’s warning still fresh in his mind. “My sister and I will stay the night here – then we will be on our way.”

“That’s great!” said the young man, face splitting into a wide smile. “What do ya fight with?”

“…what?”

“What do ya fight with?” the man repeated, not missing a beat.

“Fight?” said Kota. “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“If you wanna stay, you gotta fight,” said the young man, still grinning.

Kota scowled, back and legs aching from carrying the demon. “Is this the hospitality that you use to treat guests?”

“You’re a coward, aren’t ya?” said the man with red hair. “You don’t care who dies. As long as you live, everything’s okay?”

Kota didn’t say a word.

“It’s okay if the elderly die? It’s okay if the children die?” asked the young man, still smiling. “Say it. I know you’re thinking it.”

Kota turned to continue on his way. He took one step before battle reflexes lying dormant in his body sprang awake. Kota dropped into a crouch, feeling a whoosh of air above his head as the youth’s fist sailed passed. Not giving his attacker any time to recover, Kota pivoted on his left foot, sweeping his right foot in an arc behind him. His right shin crashed into the ankle of his opponent, sending him crashing to the ground. Kota leaped backwards, facing the man with red hair.

“Kip!” shouted a man. Several older men, also dressed in the straw armor, hurried over to the scene. The young man, Kip, sprang to his feet, face as red as his hair. The older men held him back, keeping him from attacking Kota.

“I beg ya pardon, sir,” said one of the older men, bowing to Kota. “He is but a wee lad, caught up in the madness of war.”

“Don’t bow to that coward!” Kip roared, straining against the men holding him.

“Go on now,” said the older man, gesturing at Kota. “We hope ya enjoy yer time here!”

Something about the older man’s twinkling smile calmed Kota. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, soothing his nerves and slowing his heart. When he had calmed himself, he returned the smile to the old man.

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

Kota watched as the men pulled a seething Kip away. It was then that Kota noticed the pain in his torso and the low growling coming from behind him. Kota glanced over his shoulder at the demon. Fierce yellow eyes glared out from under the hood of the cloak and the creature’s sharp claws dug into his shoulders. Kota could feel its tail swishing back and forth against his back.

“It’s okay,” Kota whispered, giving the demon a quick rub on the head.

The movement seemed to calm it, and the demon’s growing ceased. It lifted an arm to pull the hood of its head, but Kota caught its arm in his hand.

“Not yet,” Kota whispered.

The demon stared at him for a long moment. Then it placed its arm back around Kota’s neck. Surprised by its obedience, Kota wondered if he had actually tamed it. Definitely not, he concluded. Just a coincidence.

Dismissing the incident with Kip from his mind, Kota headed into the village.