The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the village of Midori. The streets were eerily silent, the usual bustling life replaced by an uneasy stillness. The villagers had retreated to their homes, anxiously awaiting news from the demon slayers who had come to save them.
The bridal escorts lifted up the bridal sedan containing Mitsuri Sasori and Iguro flanked the front of the sedan as they entered the forest.
The forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, its dense canopy swallowing the moonlight and casting deep shadows over the path. The bridal sedan, adorned with vibrant red and gold decorations, looked almost surreal against the backdrop of the ancient trees. Mitsuri sat inside, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. She clutched her concealed weapon, ready for any sudden attack.
Sasori and Iguro moved with silent precision, their senses heightened, and every movement was calculated. Sasori's keen eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of the demon that had been terrorizing the village. Iguro, his snake companion Kaburamaru coiled around his neck, was equally vigilant, his muscles tense and ready for action.
As they ventured deeper into the forest, the temperature seemed to drop, and a chilling wind whispered through the trees. The path grew narrower, and the trees pressed in closer, their branches intertwining like skeletal fingers. The only sound was the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional distant hoot of an owl.
Mitsuri was humming a merry tune when she suddenly stopped. One of the escorts peeked inside, seeing Mitsuri unharmed but with a puzzled expression on her face. The escort shrugged and closed the curtain.
Mitsuri felt a growing sense of confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, and her bewilderment deepened.
As the escorts continued, they heard a voice. "Help me." The voice sounded eerily familiar to one of them.
"Did you guys hear that?" one of the escorts asked, stopping in his tracks.
"It sounded familiar—Oi, what are you doing?!" another escort shouted as the escort next to him dropped the pole holding up the sedan and began to run into the trees.
Luckily, the other escort grabbed the pole before they all lost their balance and dropped the sedan holding Mitsuri.
"What are you doing?! You're breaking our cover!" Iguro shouted after the fleeing escort.
"Aiko! Is that you?!" the escort called out as he continued to run into the forest.
Sasori clenched his jaw, glancing at Mitsuri and then at the retreating figure of the escort. "Stay here," he ordered the remaining escorts. "Don't move until I get back."
Mitsuri nodded, her eyes sharp. Sasori sprinted after the runaway escort, his senses on high alert. The dense forest was shrouded in shadows, the moonlight barely piercing through the thick canopy. He could hear the escort's cries for Aiko growing fainter as he pushed deeper into the woods.
"Stop!" Sasori shouted, his voice reverberating through the trees. "It's a trap!"
The escort ignored him, driven by desperation. Sasori quickened his pace, closing the gap between them.
The man suddenly stopped, his eyes wide with horror as he pointed accusingly. "You! What did you do with my wife, you sick bastard—" His words were cut off by a horrifying scream from the darkness. He fell to his knees, blood pouring from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyes. Within moments, he collapsed, lifeless.
From the shadows, a chilling voice spoke. "Oh, Rikiya~ I'd hoped we wouldn't meet like this, but at least you kept your promise~"
A woman emerged clad in an exquisite traditional Chinese bridal dress, its flowing fabric rippling with an almost ethereal grace. The dress, adorned with intricate patterns of silver and deep crimson, seems to move with a life of its own, fluttering and swirling as though animated by an invisible breeze. Her eyes, dark and stormy, hold a depth that hints at both ancient wisdom and a hidden ferocity. They are marked with the kanji for Lower Two, a sign of her rank among the demon hierarchy. Her demeanor is both haunting and captivating; whispers seem to follow her wherever she goes, adding an air of mystery to her already enigmatic presence.
"Remember... Keep your hands off him." Another demon appeared, the wind swirling around him.
Lastly, a male figure whose only striking feature was his eyes, bearing the kanji for Lower four.
The demon's skin was unnaturally smooth and pale, giving him an almost spectral appearance. His hair was jet black and cascaded down to his waist in thick, glossy waves, often seen flowing gently as if caught in a perpetual breeze. His eyes were a striking crimson, glowing with an unsettling intensity.
"Kyoku. You may be favored by our lord for now, but don't think you can order me around," Lower Two said with authority. "And I'm insulted you'd think I'd harm him."
"As long as we're in agreement—" Kyoku began, but his words faltered as he noticed Sasori.
Sasori was performing several hand seals, and suddenly, a dragon made of fire erupted from his mouth.
"OH SHIT!" Kyoku shouted in panic as the ground beneath them erupted, creating a tornado of earth that enveloped them.
The fiery dragon and the earth tornado clashed, the explosion scattering pieces of burning earth. The Lower Moons were nowhere to be seen.
"That's interesting..."Sasori muttered as he closed his eyes, focusing his chakra to locate the two demons. Once he pinpointed their positions, he quickly doused the flames, ensuring no accidental forest fire would start. He then sprinted back to the others.
-Back with Mitsuri and Iguro-
Iguro stood guard near the bridal sedan when he suddenly heard Mitsuri whispering to him, but her voice seemed to come from the woods.
Iguro walked closer to where the voice was coming from, unsheathing his sword. "It's me," her voice whispered to him.
"Mitsuri? How are you out here?" Iguro asked, his grip on his sword loosening.
"That's not me..." the voice said. Iguro turned around, looking at the sedan and seeing Mitsuri's figure through the curtains.
"How can I trust you? Show yourself," Iguro demanded.
"Mr. Iguro, who are you talking to?" one of the escorts asked.
"The demon can only copy my form... It can't copy my voice... Go make it talk... That will prove she's the demon. Trust me, Iguro~" her voice whispered.
Iguro's mind raced, trying to discern the truth. He knew he had to be careful. "Stay alert," he instructed the escort. "I'll check the sedan."
As Iguro approached the sedan, he kept his sword ready. He slowly pulled back the curtain, revealing Mitsuri, who looked at him with concern.
"Mitsuri... Say something," Iguro demanded.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Iguro's grip on his sword tightened. "Say. Something..."
Mitsuri began to get nervous. Iguro had never used such a cold and angry tone with her before, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't speak. Her eyes widened with fear and confusion as she struggled, her lips trembling.
"Why won't you talk?" Iguro's voice grew harsher, his patience wearing thin. He took a step closer, his sword raised. "If you're really Mitsuri, prove it."
Tears welled up in Mitsuri's eyes, but still, no sound escaped her lips. The silence was deafening, and Iguro's suspicion deepened. His instincts screamed at him that something was terribly wrong.
Iguro swung his sword at Mitsuri's neck, but she blocked it with her own sword, which swayed like a whip and sliced the sedan in half. Iguro jumped back, eyes wide with shock.
"That's it, Iguro~ Kill the demon~" Mitsuri's voice called out from the woods, her tone filled with joy.
The Mitsuri in front of him looked confused, then suddenly, realization dawned on her face. She began performing several hand gestures.
"What is she doing?" Iguro asked.
"I think that's sign language, sir," one of the escorts suggested.
Iguro was about to ignore her seemingly futile attempts to reveal her true identity when Kaburamaru coiled tighter around his neck, drawing his attention. The snake looked at Mitsuri, shook his head, and then turned toward the woods where her voice was coming from, hissing angrily.
Iguro's face turned white with realization, shock, and guilt. He quickly turned toward the woods and charged in the direction of the voice.
"Fourth Form: Twin-Headed Reptile!" Iguro leaped forward and performed a horizontal slash that sliced through the trees, revealing two demons.
"I knew this was a bad idea..." Kyoku muttered as Iguro lunged at them. Reacting swiftly, Kyoku manipulated the ground, causing a chunk to tear off and slam into Iguro's stomach, halting his attack.
The earth continued to rip apart, forming a tornado of dirt, trees, and rocks that pulled everyone into its vortex. The deafening roar of the tornado made it nearly impossible to see or hear anything clearly.
Iguro fought to keep his footing as the tornado dragged him in. "Mitsuri! Hang on!" he shouted, trying to reach her through the cacophony.
Sasori arrived just as the tornado dissipated, leaving behind a landscape of destruction. Trees lay uprooted, the ground was scarred, and debris was scattered everywhere. Amid the chaos, the two demons stood unscathed.
Kyoku's eyes glinted with satisfaction as he smirked. "Welcome to the party, Sasori. Just in time to witness my masterpiece."
Azura, standing beside him, maintained an eerie calmness amidst the ruin. "You always did enjoy making a mess, Kyoku," she remarked, her voice carrying a chilling edge.
Sasori's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene, knowing he had to act fast to save his comrades and defeat the demons. "You won't get away with this," he declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil.
Kyoku taunted back, "How can you if you're in a cell?" He raised his hand to initiate another attack, but before he could act, Azura swiftly severed Kyoku's arm.
"Ah! Damn it! Why does this always happen to me!" Kyoku yelled, frustration and anger evident in his voice.
Azura's eyes flashed dangerously. "He is mine. But touch him..." Her tone was lethal, and Kyoku fell silent, not wanting to provoke her further.
Seizing the moment of distraction, Sasori gathered his chakra and prepared his next move. "You're finished," he declared with resolve.
Azura's gaze turned to Sasori, a cold smile playing on her lips. "We'll see about that," she replied, her voice dripping with confidence.
Sasori quickly formed a series of hand signs, summoning a powerful jutsu. "Fire Style: Dragon Flame Bomb!" he shouted, releasing a massive stream of fire shaped like a dragon towards the demons.
"I'll deal with him. You handle the Hashiras," Azura commanded, positioning herself in front of Kyoku. She opened her mouth and released a large shockwave, disrupting Sasori's dragon and causing it to explode before it reached her.
The explosion from Azura's shockwave and Sasori's fire dragon created a blinding flash, and the force of the blast sent debris flying in all directions. Sasori was momentarily pushed back, his fiery dragon extinguished in mid-flight. He quickly recovered, his eyes narrowing with determination.
As the smoke cleared, Azura advanced, her presence chilling and commanding. "Oh, Rikiya~ You think you can defeat me so easily?" she taunted, her voice cutting through the haze.
"Drop your sword and come join me~ We can live the dream we always wanted~" Azura's voice was alluring, her smile both inviting and menacing.
"You've got the wrong person, demon," Sasori retorted coldly, his sword enveloped in a swirling wind chakra.
Azura's smile faltered, her expression shifting to one of seething anger. "How dare you refuse me!" she spat, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
The air around Azura seemed to hum with a chorus of faint, eerie whispers. Sasori, attuned to the unsettling sound, focused his senses. He heard a woman's voice whispering directly toward him, the sound almost imperceptible yet dangerously close.
With a sudden, fluid motion, Sasori dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding an invisible sound wave that sliced through the air. The wave struck a trio of trees behind him, causing them to splinter and crumble under the force of the attack.
Azura's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she quickly masked her reaction with a renewed, icy demeanor. "You're more perceptive than I remember you being," she conceded with a sinister edge. "But can you handle the full force of my power?"
As she spoke, the whispers intensified, creating a disorienting cacophony that sought to overwhelm Sasori's senses. He gritted his teeth, concentrating on maintaining his focus amid the mental onslaught.
-Back with Mitsuri and Iguro-
The scene shifted to a grim, dimly lit room filled with eerie silence. The cells, constructed from ominous dark metal and seemingly designed to trap both body and spirit, were now occupied by several figures. Mitsuri and Iguro found themselves isolated in separate cells, while the three escorts were confined together in another.
Each cell had been formed by a small vortex of dirt, wood, and stone—evidence of the chaotic teleportation that had whisked them away from the battlefield. The fragments of debris littered the floor, hinting at the violent upheaval that had brought them here.
Iguro surveyed his surroundings, taking in the disarray of his cell. His keen eyes detected several pieces of dirt, wood, and stone scattered around, remnants of the tornado's destructive force. He quickly assessed the situation, noting the heavy, reinforced metal bars and the dim glow of the lanterns mounted on the walls.
"Mitsuri!" Iguro called out, his voice resonating through the stone walls. "Are you okay?"
Mitsuri, disoriented but conscious, looked up from where she sat against the wall of her cell. Her eyes met Iguro's through the bars, and she gave him a reassuring thumbs-up.
Iguro nodded in acknowledgment but quickly realized his sword was missing. He looked around the cell, searching for it, but the weapon was nowhere to be seen. He glanced over at Mitsuri, who was also scanning her surroundings for her sword.
"I think I see your swords!" one of the escorts called out, pointing to a pile of broken wood, dirt, and rocks near the wall. The swords were partially buried in the debris.
"Can you reach them?" Iguro asked.
"It's too far away from us," another escort responded, frustration evident in their voice.
Iguro turned to Kaburamaru, who was slouched around his neck, clearly disoriented from the chaotic events. "Alright, Kaburamaru, time to do something other than being my eyes," Iguro said, gently lowering the snake to the ground.
"Go get our swords," Iguro instructed. Kaburamaru, though still somewhat dazed, nodded and began to slither towards the pile of debris.
As Kaburamaru made his way to the swords, one of the escorts exclaimed, "Oh my god, it's a snake!"
Another escort smacked him on the head, saying, "Calm down! It's one of the Slayer's snakes. You know, the creepy-looking one that had the snake coiled around his neck."
"He had a snake around his neck?" the first escort asked, realizing his mistake. "What are you blind— Oh, right, sorry, I forgot you're half-blind.," he quickly apologized, his face reddening with embarrassment.
"Quit your bickering! What's taking Kaburamaru so long?!" Iguro demanded.
"Ah, sorry. He's got the swords, but he's... a bit... ahhh," the first escort stuttered.
"He's struggling," the second escort clarified.
"What do you mean 'struggling'?" Iguro asked, frustration evident in his voice.
"Well, sir, snakes aren't exactly known for their strength when it comes to pulling things," the third escort said, his face returning to its normal color.
"I mean... he is pulling it, but he's struggling," the second escort added.
Iguro let out a long, annoyed sigh. "How about we try and escape? Any ideas?"
"There are a bunch of rocks from the tornado," the first escort suggested. "Let's use them to break the cell door."
"You know what... that's a good idea. Let's do that until Kaburamaru gets back with our swords," Iguro agreed. He grabbed the largest rock he could find in his cell. When he hit the door, the rock shattered into tiny pieces.
Iguro looked over at Mitsuri's cell, noting that her attempt with the rock had the same result.
"Do you guys have decent rocks?" Iguro asked.
"Yeah, we've got a few, but I don't think we can throw them at you," one of the escorts said. "You'll need to wait a bit until we break out so we can help you."
The sound of rocks hitting metal filled the air as the three escorts worked on their cell door. Just as they were making progress, a gust of wind and the sound of leaf-crunching interrupted them.
Another small tornado appeared before them. When it settled, it revealed a male figure with striking eyes bearing the kanji for Lower Four.
The demon's skin was unnaturally smooth and pale, giving him an almost spectral appearance. His jet-black hair cascaded down to his waist in thick, glossy waves, flowing as if caught in a perpetual breeze. His crimson eyes glowed with an unsettling intensity.
"Well, well, what do we have here~" Kyoku teased. "Two Hashira, three nobodies, and a... snake..." Kyoku and Kaburamaru locked eyes, both surprised by the sudden appearance of the other.
Kaburamaru, realizing the urgency, tried to move faster to get to Iguro, but the weight of the swords slowed him down. Kyoku took advantage of this, grabbing the snake with ease and making Kaburamaru release the swords with a simple flick of his finger.
Kyoku's smirk widened as he saw the weapons slip from Kaburamaru's grasp. "Looks like I'm going to have to deal with you all myself," he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"What do I do with you?" Kyuko questioned himself the smirk still on his face.
"You let him go now!" Iguro ordered.
Kyoku nodded with a smirk. "You know what? Good idea. I'm not going to eat a snake," he said, walking towards one of the windows. He tried to open it, but it was locked. With a shrug, Kyoku shattered the glass with his elbow and tossed Kaburamaru out of the window.
"NOOOOOO!" Iguro's heart sank as Kaburamaru hissed one last time before disappearing out the window. He felt a hollow ache in his chest, a mix of anger and despair.
"There we go," Kyoku said, turning back to a distraught Iguro and a shocked Mitsuri. "Now, what do I do with you?" he taunted, walking in front of Iguro's cell, and turning his back to Mitsuri's cell.
Mitsuri clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. She took deep, steadying breaths, but her eyes burned with a growing fury. The sight of Kaburamaru being thrown out pushed her over the edge.
Iguro's face turned pale, not from Kyoku's taunts but because he saw Mitsuri's expression change to one of unhinged anger. She lifted her leg and kicked her cell door, making it swing open and hit Kyoku. The force of the impact sent him flying into the wall, past the escorts' cells.
"What the hell?!" Kyoku questioned, shocked by Mitsuri's unnatural strength.
Mitsuri walked up to Iguro's cell and pulled the door off its hinges, throwing it at Kyoku. He rolled away just in time, hiding behind the wall.
The escorts, seeing their chance, began chipping away at their cell door with renewed vigor.
"You think you can stop me?" Kyoku sneered from behind the wall. "I'll tear you apart!"
"Stay focused!" Iguro called out, picking up his sword that Kaburamaru had nearly delivered.
Mitsuri readied herself, her breathing heavy but her resolve unbroken.
With their swords in hand, the two Hashira stood side by side, prepared to face Kyoku and put an end to his reign of terror.
-Sasori VS Azura-
The battlefield crackled with tension as Sasori faced Azura, her presence as chilling as the whispers that filled the air. He tightened his grip on his sword, the wind chakra swirling around the blade in a mesmerizing dance. The whispers grew louder, trying to invade his mind, but Sasori steeled himself against the onslaught.
"You cannot resist forever," Azura taunted, her eyes glowing with a sinister light. "Your willpower will crumble, and then you will be mine."
Sasori remained silent, his focus unyielding. He shifted his stance, preparing for Azura's next move. Suddenly, she raised her hand, and a wave of sound surged toward him. Sasori leaped into the air, dodging the attack with agile precision. He landed gracefully, his sword at the ready.
Azura's expression twisted with frustration. "Why do you resist, Rikiya? We were meant to be together!"
"Stop calling me that," Sasori snapped, his voice cold and firm. "Rikiya is gone. I am Sasori, and I will defeat you."
Azura's eyes flashed with rage, and she unleashed another barrage of sound waves. Sasori deftly evaded each one, his movements fluid and precise. He closed the distance between them, his sword cutting through the air with lethal intent.
Sasori swung his sword in a way that sent a sharp, whistling sound through the air, slicing off her leg. Azura fell to the ground but caught herself by placing one of her hands on the ground, leaving her neck exposed, a perfect target for Sasori's next attack.
However, Azura reacted swiftly. She shouted at the ground, releasing a powerful sound wave that pushed her back, dodging Sasori's attack. She regained her balance, her eyes burning with hatred and desperation.
"You won't defeat me that easily!" Azura hissed, her voice filled with venom. She stood on one leg, the other already starting to regenerate, a grotesque display of her demonic powers.
Sasori didn't waste a moment. He pressed his advantage, closing in on her again. Azura's sound waves crashed around him, but he maneuvered through them with remarkable agility, his determination unshakable.
With a quick dash, Sasori aimed for her heart this time, intending to end the battle swiftly. Azura, realizing the danger, sent a focused, high-pitched scream directly at him. The sound wave hit him like a hammer, forcing him to stagger back, his ears ringing painfully.
Gritting his teeth, Sasori shook off the disorientation. He saw Azura's leg nearly fully regenerated, her stance steadying. He needed to finish this quickly before she regained full strength.
Before Sasori could act, Azura launched another sound wave. "I can't use a jutsu. Her attacks are too fast for me to do that. But..." Sasori thought as the attack approached.
In a swift motion, Sasori pulled out Daisuke's Big Cleaver Sword and stabbed it into the ground in front of him, blocking most of the attack. However, the force of the sound waves dislodged his own sword from his hand and shattered Daisuke's cleaver sword in half. The lower part remained stuck in the ground.
Thinking quickly, Sasori threw the remaining piece of the cleaver sword he held. The improvised projectile flew with deadly accuracy, slicing through half of Azura's neck and causing her head to hang precariously.
Azura's eyes widened in shock and fury, her body trembling as she struggled to maintain control. Blood poured from the grievous wound, and her once-commanding presence faltered.
"You... will... not... defeat me!" she rasped her voice a mixture of rage and desperation. She tried to summon another sound wave, but her strength was rapidly fading.
Sasori, determined to end the battle, dashed forward with one of the Nocturne's Kiss syringes in hand. Azura, still struggling to regenerate her neck fully, tried to muster her remaining strength to repel him.
"You... won't... stop me!" she growled, her voice hoarse and weak.
Sasori didn't hesitate. As he closed the distance, he dodged her feeble attempts to lash out with sound waves. With precise, practiced movements, he plunged the syringe into her neck and injected the potent toxin.
Azura's eyes widened in shock, her body convulsing violently as the poison began to take effect. The wound on her neck ceased its regeneration, and her movements grew sluggish and disoriented.
"No... this... can't... be..." she rasped her voice barely a whisper as she fell to the ground.
Sasori walked back a bit wanting her body to begin to turn to dust.
Sasori turned around and began to retrieve his sword when suddenly he felt something grab his leg.
Sasori paused, his breath hitching as he felt the desperate grip on his leg. He turned to look down at Azura, her tear-streaked face filled with a mix of sorrow and fury.
"You... promised... You promised me you would come and save me... And now that you have returned... Why? WHY?! I LOVED YOU AND THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ME?!" Azura's voice cracked with anguish, her eyes pleading for an answer.
Sasori's expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—regret, perhaps. He knelt down, gently prying her fingers from his leg. "Please, my love. Don't do this again," Azura whimpered as Sasori pulled her off him.
"I'm not your 'love.' I'm just someone you're using to replace him," Sasori said, his voice cold but with a hint of sadness.
Azura's grip weakened, her strength ebbing away as the poison continued to take its toll. "Please... don't say that... don't leave me again..." she murmured, her voice barely audible. She reached out towards Sasori once more as he turned his back to her and began to walk away.
-Backstory Flashback-
The air was crisp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves that blanketed the ground in shades of gold and crimson. The soft rustling of the wind through the trees hinted at the arrival of fall, a season marked by change and decay. Amidst this autumnal landscape, a beautiful woman sat on a blanket, her serene expression only slightly marred by the sorrow in her eyes. Beside her, a red-headed man stared at her with a thoughtful expression, his gaze lingering on the way the sunlight played across her face.
The woman had her eyes closed, lost in the peacefulness of the moment. The man, noticing her stillness, playfully poked her cheek, drawing her attention. She opened her eyes, revealing their captivating green hue, which sparkled with curiosity. The man stood up and gestured for her to do the same. The woman followed suit, standing next to him as he began to fold up the blanket they had been sitting on. After carefully pocketing the small blanket, the man gently took her hand, leading her along the path they had been walking.
A small smile graced the woman's lips, and there was a noticeable skip in her step as she walked beside him. After a short while, she lifted her free hand and signed to the man, [Where are we going, dear?]
The man sighed softly before signing back, [To your father. He doesn't want you to come home late.]
She sighed in response, her fingers moving gracefully, [I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I'm a bit late.]
The man let out a longer, more drawn-out sigh, then gave her a playful smile. [You know how your father gets when he's worried about you,] he signed, his expression gentle but amused.
The woman pouted, her smooth black hair flowing in the wind as they continued their walk. The golden light of the setting sun bathed them in warmth, casting long shadows on the ground, but the mood between them was light, filled with an unspoken understanding that had been cultivated over years of love and trust.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
After a while, they reached a modestly large house adorned with several ornate designs and a small gate at the front. The woman turned to the man, waving goodbye with a warm smile before opening the gate. The man waved back, his expression soft and affectionate as she entered her home.
As she closed the door behind her, the familiar creak of the old wood echoed through the hallway. Moments later, an elderly, slightly pudgy man appeared from around the corner, his footsteps slow but deliberate. His eyes lit up when he saw her, though there was a noticeable tension in his expression.
The woman, in the process of removing her slippers, made a happy noise upon spotting him. She waved enthusiastically, her face brightening at the sight of her father. He waved back, but she quickly noticed the small frown etched on his face. Concerned, she quickly signed to him, [What is it, Father?] Her question was clear in her gentle movements, the worry in her eyes matching the concern on his face.
The old man hesitated for a moment before sighing deeply. [Shizuka, there's something we need to talk about, my dear,] he signed, his hands moving with a mixture of reluctance and urgency.
[It's about your marriage,] he continued, his expression heavy with the weight of what he was about to say. Shizuka looked at him, confused, her brow furrowing slightly. [Yes, what about it?] she signed back, but her hands moved a bit slower, sensing the gravity of the situation.
The man sighed deeply, a long, drawn-out breath before signing, [You won't be marrying Rikiya.]
Shizuka's face froze in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief. [Instead, you will be marrying a rich noble from another village,] he signed, the words hitting her like a blow. The color drained from her face as tears suddenly welled up, her body trembling with fear and desperation.
She tried to object, her hands moving frantically to express her anguish, but her father raised his arm, cutting her off. [This is not up for discussion,] he signed with a cold, stern expression that left no room for argument.
Shizuka's world shattered in that moment. She couldn't bear it. Without another thought, she turned and ran out of the house, her father shouting after her, but his words fell on deaf ears as she sprinted through the streets.
As she ran, her tear-filled eyes caught sight of a familiar head of red hair. Desperation took over, and she threw herself at him, hugging him from behind, her body wracked with sobs.
Rikiya turned around, startled, and found Shizuka clinging to him, her face buried in his back, crying uncontrollably. Concern and confusion clouded his features as he gently turned her around, holding her shoulders. He tried to speak, but his voice was lost on her.
Shizuka quickly signed to him, her hands trembling as she explained what had just happened. But as she looked up at him, she saw his expression shift—confusion turning to anger.
Without a word, Rikiya let go of her and began running toward her house, determination and fury in his stride.
Shizuka's heart pounded in her chest as she hurried through the now-open gate, the door to her home left ajar and slightly shattered from the force of entry. Fear and dread clawed at her as she rushed inside, only to find a scene that made her blood run cold.
Rikiya stood in the middle of the room, gripping her father by the collar, his face twisted in fury. The old man's feet dangled above the ground, his expression a mix of fear and defiance as Rikiya screamed at him, his voice harsh and unyielding.
Shizuka's hands flew into action as she desperately signed at Rikiya, trying to get him to stop. Her face was a mask of panic and desperation, but Rikiya remained absorbed in his anger, not noticing her urgent gestures.
Tears streamed down Shizuka's face as she tried to pry Rikiya's fingers from her father's collar, her movements frantic and pleading. Despite her best efforts, Rikiya's grip did not loosen.
In a final, desperate attempt, Shizuka began to hit Rikiya's arm, her hands moving urgently to get his attention. She tried to communicate her desperation through her signs and tearful expressions, but Rikiya remained focused on the confrontation.
The old man managed to make the sign for [Half], his trembling hands catching Rikiya's attention. Rikiya's rage slowly began to dissipate, but he still held the old man aloft, his grip only loosening slightly.
After a tense moment, Rikiya finally released the old man, letting him fall to the ground, gasping for breath. Shizuka stopped hitting Rikiya, her tear-stained eyes filled with a mixture of relief and sadness. She approached him, her hands shaking as she signed, [Why? Why did you do this?]
Her face was a portrait of anguish and confusion, her emotions laid bare as she sought answers to the chaos that had erupted in her home.
Rikiya gave Shizuka a sheepish smile as he sighed, [Don't worry, dear. It was just a simple misunderstanding.] His attempt at reassurance only deepened Shizuka's confusion.
[We have a plan,] he continued, his smile unwavering despite the evident tension. Shizuka's confusion remained, her eyes searching his face for clarity.
With a chuckle and a wink, Rikiya attempted to lighten the mood, but Shizuka's anxiety lingered. She struggled to grasp the full scope of the situation.
-Two Days Later-
The morning sun cast a gentle light over the scene as a small carriage and a contingent of guards arrived at Shizuka's home. The atmosphere was tense but orderly, with the guards standing at attention, their expressions serious.
Shizuka, dressed in an elegant kimono, stood with her father by her side. The kimono, though beautiful, seemed almost out of place in the current somber context. A guard helped her into the carriage, his movements respectful and careful.
Shizuka's father looked at her, his face etched with a mixture of resignation and unease. The carriage doors closed behind her, and with a final glance at her home, they began their departure. The guards flanked the carriage, their presence a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation.
As the carriage rolled away, Shizuka's mind raced her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and unease about what awaited them. The path ahead was shrouded in mystery, and her heart ached with the weight of her unanswered questions.
But amidst the chaos, she managed to find comfort in the hope of her lover's and father's plan.
Apparently, the noble had demanded Shizuka's hand in marriage, and to save his own life, her father had agreed. However, a secret plan was in place: Rikiya would come to rescue her when the time was right, and they would escape together.
As the carriage continued, Shizuka glanced outside and spotted Rikiya in the crowd. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. He gave her a reassuring smile and sighed her the word [Promise].
With a renewed sense of hope, Shizuka clung to the promise of rescue and the dream of a future together, finding solace in the thought of their escape.
After a while, the carriage stopped in front of a massive mansion. Shizuka's mouth dropped at the size of the building, and she let out a sound of awe.
At the front of the mansion stood a tall old man wearing a white kimono. He had a long, smooth beard and a kind, wise appearance that reminded Shizuka of the benevolent figures she had seen in storybooks. Beside him was a young man, perhaps around 15 or 17 years old, dressed in a blue kimono. He had short hair and a somewhat tired expression.
As the carriage door opened, a guard helped Shizuka down. The two men approached her, the wise-looking old man giving her a small, welcoming smile.
The young man, looking slightly disinterested, greeted her with a sign. [Hello, welcome to Ganirat Manor. This will be your home from now on.] His hand movements conveyed a mix of formality and boredom.
[Unless you run away or something,] the young man added jokingly. His attempt at humor elicited a loud and awkward laugh from Shizuka, causing the old man to flinch. One of the guards whispered something to him, prompting the old man to sigh in annoyance before shrugging and saying something that made the young man roll his eyes.
Shizuka, still processing the situation, sighed and asked, [Are you my husband?]
The young man shook his head and pointed at the old man. [He is,] he signed.
Shizuka's eyes widened in shock as she looked from the young man to the old man. The old man, who was at least triple her age, seemed more like a figure from a bygone era than a prospective husband. His long, smooth beard and dignified demeanor only heightened her sense of disbelief.
The young man, noticing her confusion, signed with a touch of empathy, [I'm sorry for the confusion. The old man does not know sign language.]
The old man looked at Shizuka with a kind but puzzled expression, his intention to reassure her clearly despite the language barrier. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, his gesture meant to be comforting.
[Please, follow me,] the young man translated, gesturing toward the mansion's entrance. [We need to discuss the arrangements.]
Shizuka, her anxiety mingled with a glimmer of hope for clearer communication, nodded and followed the young man into the mansion, her heart heavy with uncertainty about the future that lay ahead.
They walked through the mansion and emerged into a beautiful, expansive garden. The old man gestured to a group of people arranging decorations and other details for the event. He looked at Shizuka with an expectant expression, but his patience waned as she tilted her head in confusion.
The old man's frustration grew. He glanced at the young man, who was momentarily distracted by a woman in a pink kimono. The young man's attention returned to the old man as he was shouted at.
With an eye roll, the young man signed to Shizuka again, [This is where the wedding will be held.]
Shizuka nodded and signed back, [What time?]
The young man consulted with the old man, who replied in a gruff tone. The young man turned back to Shizuka and signed, [In two days.]
Shizuka's heart sank at the news, but she tried to remain composed as she processed the timeline for her upcoming marriage.
[Can't we wait?] Shizuka requested, her hands moving with a mixture of desperation and hope.
The boy relayed her request to the old man, who promptly and firmly shook his head, his expression stern. The boy muttered something to the woman in the pink kimono, who let out a quiet laugh, though the old man seemed uninterested in the exchange.
Shizuka, not wanting to give up so easily, pleaded again with the old man, signing with more urgency. But once more, the old man shook his head, dismissing her request without a second thought.
Realizing that her pleas were falling on deaf ears, Shizuka sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She knew she had no choice but to comply, at least for now.
As Shizuka resigned herself to the situation, the old man motioned for the group to move forward. They walked through the garden, past blooming flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. Shizuka couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread overshadow the beauty around her. The upcoming wedding felt like a cage closing in on her.
The old man led them to a small pavilion at the edge of the garden, where a table had been set with tea. He gestured for Shizuka to sit, and she did so reluctantly. The young man and the woman in the pink kimono sat opposite her, while the old man took his seat at the head of the table.
As they began to pour tea, Shizuka’s mind raced with thoughts of escape. She knew Rikiya and her father had promised to save her, but she wasn’t sure how long she could hold out in this place. She glanced at the boy, wondering if he might be an ally, but his expression remained indifferent, focused on his tea.
After tea, the old man walked off to speak with the group arranging the decorations for the wedding. The girl in the pink kimono followed him, leaving Shizuka and the boy behind.
Shizuka sighed and signed to the boy, [What is his name?] She gestured toward the old man. The boy rolled his eyes, unsurprised that she didn’t know his name.
The boy glanced at the old man, then back at Shizuka, his expression a mix of boredom and mild amusement. He sighed and signed back, [His name is Lord Kaito.]
Shizuka nodded slowly, absorbing the information. She glanced at Lord Kaito, who was now barking orders at the decorators, his face stern and unyielding.
[And you?] Shizuka signed, trying to learn more about the boy who seemed to be her only potential ally in this place.
The boy gave a half-hearted shrug. [My name is Kenta. I'm his son in law.] He hesitated for a moment, then added, [I'm just here because I have to be. Don't expect much from me.]
Shizuka frowned slightly at his words but nodded in understanding. She could tell he didn't want to be involved in whatever was going on, but at least he was being honest with her.
[Why are you helping him?] she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Kenta looked away, his gaze distant. [Family obligations,] he signed, a touch of bitterness in his movements. [It’s not like I have a choice.]
Shizuka studied him for a moment, sensing the conflict in his demeanor. Despite his reluctance to get involved, there was something about him that hinted at a desire to help, even if he wouldn't admit it outright.
[Thank you for telling me,] Shizuka signed softly, her expression earnest. [I hope you find a way out too.]
Kenta looked back at her, surprised by her sincerity. He nodded, his usual indifference replaced by a brief flicker of empathy. [Take care, Shizuka.]
Kenta began to walk off but he stopped and turned back to her [He own you know. I wouldn't seggest you to run away.]
With that, Kenta turned and walked away, leaving Shizuka alone in the garden. She watched him go, a sense of uncertainty settling over her. She knew she had to stay vigilant and find a way to protect herself until Rikiya could come for her. The clock was ticking, and she needed to be ready for whatever came next.
After some time, the sun had fully set, and a guard approached Shizuka, gesturing for her to follow him. Shizuka complied, trailing behind the man as he led her to an ornately decorated door. He opened it for her, revealing a spacious bedroom.
Shizuka stepped inside, and the door closed behind her with a soft thud.
Shizuka stood in the middle of the room, her eyes scanning her new surroundings. The bedroom was lavishly furnished, with silk curtains draped over large windows and a plush futon laid out on the floor. A delicate fragrance filled the air, likely from the flowers arranged in vases around the room. Despite the opulence, the space felt cold and unfamiliar, a gilded cage meant to keep her confined.
She moved to one of the windows, peeking outside to see the moonlight casting long shadows over the garden. The same garden where she had met Kenta earlier, where the reality of her situation had fully set in. Shizuka clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. She couldn't afford to lose hope now.
Turning away from the window, Shizuka began to explore the room. She opened drawers and looked behind furniture, searching for anything that might be of use in her escape. But each discovery only deepened her frustration—everything was meticulously arranged, and there were no hidden passages or tools she could use.
As she sat down on the edge of the futon, the weight of her situation pressed down on her. She had no idea when Rikiya and her father would come for her, and she was surrounded by people who expected her to marry a man she didn't love.
Shizuka took a deep breath, calming her racing thoughts. She knew she had to bide her time and remain patient. There had to be a way out of this, and she would find it. Until then, she would play the role expected of her, all the while keeping her eyes open for any opportunity to escape.
Just then, The door slid open, and a young maid stepped inside, bowing respectfully looking a bit sheepish.
[Excuse me, Miss. Is there anything you need?] the maid signed, her expression polite but distant.
Shizuka shook her head, forcing a small smile. [No, thank you,] she signed back. The maid nodded and quietly exited the room, leaving Shizuka alone once more.
The night stretched on, each minute dragging by. With her senses limited to sight and touch, Shizuka's mind raced through thoughts and plans, her focus remaining sharp despite her anxiety. The days seemed to pass in a blur, marked only by the changing light outside her window and the routine of the mansion.
Every moment she waited felt like an eternity, but Shizuka knew she had to stay strong and vigilant. She couldn't let her fear or frustration overwhelm her. Her thoughts constantly returned to Rikiya and her father’s promise, hoping they would soon arrive to save her.
As time flowed almost unnoticed, it had reached Shizuka’s wedding day.
She sat in a chair, sipping tea, her thoughts heavy with the weight of what was to come. Kenta approached and took a seat beside her.
[How are you feeling?] he signed, his expression a mix of curiosity and formality.
Shizuka gave him a sad smile. [Not good,] she signed.
[The wedding will be held at noon,] Kenta informed her.
Shizuka nodded, accepting the reality of her situation. [Well, I will be heading out. My "wife" doesn’t like it when I talk to other women.] He signed as he stood up.
[Who is your wife?] Shizuka asked, her curiosity piqued.
Kenta’s eyes flicked to the woman in the pink kimono. [You met her before. The woman wearing pink,] he signed.
Shizuka’s eyes widened in shock. [She looked old enough to be your mother.] she signed.
Kenta nodded, his demeanor resigned. [She is. Lord Kaito bought me just like he did you. So I didn’t really have a choice.] With that, he gave a small, almost pitying smile and walked away.
Shizuka watched him leave, her heart sinking further. The layers of deception and control were becoming clearer, and the reality of her situation was almost too much to bear. But she had to remain focused. The promise of rescue and escape was still a glimmer of hope in the dark clouds surrounding her.
As time passed, two maids approached Shizuka and gently guided her to a dressing room. They presented her with a beautiful wedding dress, its fabric shimmering softly in the light.
The maids helped her into the dress, their skilled hands adjusting and arranging the intricate layers of silk and lace. The dress was elegant, adorned with delicate embroidery and intricate patterns, reflecting the wealth and status of her forced marriage.
Shizuka’s reflection in the mirror was a stark contrast to the turmoil she felt inside. As the maids finished their work, they stepped back and admired their handiwork, offering her encouraging smiles.
[You look beautiful,] one of the maids signed, though Shizuka’s eyes remained clouded with concern.
The other maid added, [It’s almost time for the ceremony. We should make sure everything is perfect.]
Shizuka took a deep breath, her resolve steeling. The day ahead was uncertain, but she had to stay strong for herself and for the hope of the plan she and Rikiya had set in motion.
The wedding dress was a traditional Japanese-style kimono, exquisitely detailed and meticulously crafted. The gown featured a rich silk fabric with a subtle sheen, adorned with intricate patterns of cherry blossoms and cranes that symbolized beauty and longevity. The obi, a wide belt that cinched the waist, was decorated with delicate gold thread and vibrant embroidery, adding a touch of opulence.
The kimono was layered with a ceremonial white under-kimono called a "shiromuku," symbolizing purity. The sleeves were long and flowing, and the dress was completed with an elegant silk sash that draped gracefully behind her. The maids had meticulously arranged her hair, securing it with ornate hairpins and combs that complemented the traditional look.
As Shizuka looked at herself in the mirror, the beauty of the dress was undeniable, but it did little to ease the anxiety and sadness she felt. The stark contrast between the elegance of the dress and the turmoil inside her only deepened her sense of unease about the day’s events.
As Shizuka was guided to the wedding venue by the maids, she tried to calm her nerves. The large, open space was beautifully decorated, with an array of flowers and intricate lanterns casting a warm glow. The setting was serene, but the atmosphere felt heavy with the weight of the impending ceremony.
The guests, elegantly dressed and seated in anticipation, watched as Shizuka approached. She felt their eyes on her, and though she tried to maintain composure, her heart pounded with each step.
Kenta, standing behind the altar, looked up as she approached. He was dressed in a formal kimono, but his expression was one of distant formality rather than enthusiasm.
As the ceremony began, the traditional rituals unfolded with meticulous care. Shizuka, unable to speak, followed the gestures and movements of the priest and the other participants as best as she could. Her face, though calm, betrayed her inner turmoil as she moved through the ceremony with a mixture of resignation and apprehension.
Lord Kaito, her new husband, stood beside her, his expression one of calm expectancy. Shizuka’s heart ached with every movement, the reality of the situation sinking deeper with each passing moment. Kenta conducted the rites with solemnity, guiding them through the ceremony with practiced ease.
Shizuka’s inability to communicate in spoken words left her feeling isolated, her emotions trapped behind a silent facade. She exchanged vows with Lord Kaito through signed words and expressions, her eyes reflecting the weight of the moment. Though she could not speak, her thoughts were filled with hopes of escape and the promise of freedom, waiting for the moment when Rikiya and her father would come through on their promise.
After the wedding ceremony, the day’s festivities wound down. The guests began to leave, their chatter and laughter fading into the distance. Shizuka felt a heavy weight settle over her as she was led away by her new husband, Lord Kaito, to their shared room.
The room was lavishly decorated, with intricate patterns adorning the walls and soft, muted lighting casting a warm glow. The furnishings were opulent, but to Shizuka, they felt cold and distant. Her heart raced as they entered the room, knowing that this was to be her new reality.
Shizuka sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Lord Kaito, her new husband, moved to a nearby table where a bottle of wine, gifted by the guests, was set. He uncorked it with a practiced twist and poured himself a generous glass.
He took a long sip, savoring the taste as he leaned back against the table. He didn't pay much attention to Shizuka, seeming to be too distracted by the alcohol. Time passed slowly, the room filled with a heavy silence broken only by the occasional clink of the wine glass.
After an hour or so, Lord Kaito finally turned his attention to Shizuka. He approached the bed, his movements slightly unsteady from the wine. As he came closer, he looked at her with a mix of curiosity and indifference, as if just now noticing her presence.
He walked up to her with a staggering gait, placing the wine bottle on the nightstand. Shizuka, not understanding his intentions, made a confused sound. Lord Kaito glanced at her with annoyance before he abruptly grabbed her face with his hand.
Shizuka let out a loud yelp, instinctively slapping his hand away. Lord Kaito stared at his reddened hand, his anger boiling over. He responded with a harsh slap to her face, causing her to hit the headrest and scream in pain.
Ignoring her distress, Lord Kaito seized the fabric of her kimono and pulled her forcefully off the bed. Shizuka struck her head on the nightstand, causing the wine bottle to topple and shatter on the floor. The room was filled with the sound of broken glass and her muffled cries, amplifying the harsh reality of her new and grim circumstances.
Lord Kaito grabbed Shizuka by the throat, pinning her against the side of the bed. As he climbed on top of her, Shizuka's screams of pain were muffled by his choking grip.
He began to roughly pull at her kimono, exposing her chest. Panic surged through Shizuka, and black spots danced in her vision as fear overwhelmed her. Desperate, she reached for the broken wine bottle on the floor and, with a swift motion, drove it into Lord Kaito’s neck.
He recoiled in shock, his grip loosening as he tried to pull the bottle from his throat. Seizing the opportunity, Shizuka lifted her leg and kicked the bottle deeper into his neck. He tumbled off her, collapsing to the ground and struggling for breath.
But Shizuka was far from finished. Grabbing another shard of glass from the broken bottle, she advanced on Lord Kaito. With a series of frantic, determined strikes, she attacked him until his movements ceased, his body going limp.
Panting and trembling, Shizuka looked at the lifeless form of her attacker, her heart pounding with a mix of horror and relief.
Shizuka noticed the handle of the door being moved and the door shaking as if someone was trying to force their way in. Panic surged through her as she realized she had to escape quickly. She darted to the window, throwing it open and leaping out just as the door finally gave way.
She plummeted through the night air, landing roughly among the trees below. The branches offered some cushioning but still left her cut and bleeding.
Despite the pain, Shizuka pushed herself up, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her escape was far from over. She needed to find a way out of the estate and reach safety before anyone discovered her.
Bleeding and bruised, she began to make her way through the darkened grounds, her senses alert for any signs of pursuit.
Shizuka managed to escape the manor and found herself on the edge of the estate grounds. The village loomed in the distance, and she knew she needed to get as far away as possible. Her body ached, and her cuts and bruises throbbed, but adrenaline fueled her steps as she ran.
The village was bustling with activity, and Shizuka ducked into the shadows, trying to avoid being seen. She wove through narrow alleyways and backstreets, her mind focused on finding a way out of the village. Her heart pounded with fear and determination.
As she neared the outskirts of the village, she saw a small forested area in the distance. It was her best chance for concealment and escape. Shizuka headed toward the trees, her progress hampered by her injuries, but she pushed through the pain.
Just as she reached the edge of the forest, she saw a figure and from the shock she fell.
As Shizuka lifted her head, she saw a figure standing in the shadows of the forest. The figure was tall and imposing, with an aura of dangerous elegance. The moonlight barely touched him, casting an eerie glow around his form.
The figure was Akaza, a demon with a strikingly unique appearance. His skin was a pale, almost ghostly white, contrasted sharply by his dark hair that fell in wild, unkempt strands. His eyes were a deep, unsettling red with a chilling intensity that seemed to pierce through the darkness.
Akaza's attire was elaborate yet intimidating—a traditional Japanese kimono with intricate patterns, complemented by ornate, crimson accents that hinted at his demonic nature. The fabric clung to his lithe, muscular frame, accentuating his otherworldly presence. His overall appearance exuded a sense of both beauty and menace, making him an imposing and formidable figure.
As Shizuka lifted herself up with trembling hands, Akaza knelt down beside her. His eyes, glowing with a predatory gleam, locked onto hers with an unsettling intensity.
He murmured something Shizuka couldn’t hear. Before she could react, Akaza's hands shot out and gripped her head with a vice-like hold. His fingers dug into her skull, sending waves of sharp, searing pain through her.
Shizuka tried to pull away, but the force of his grip was overwhelming. Her vision blurred as darkness began to encroach around the edges. The pain intensified, a torturous sensation that seemed to consume her entire being. Akaza's touch was both cold and burning, a paradox that made the experience even more excruciating.
Despite the agony, an unexpected sense of serenity began to seep through Shizuka's fear. Akaza's power was transforming her, altering her at a fundamental level. The world around her started to blur, her senses dulling as the transformation took hold.
Desperate, Shizuka clawed at Akaza's arm, her nails piercing his skin, but he remained unfazed. His expression was one of calm detachment as he spoke, and Shizuka looked on in shock as she heard his words clearly for the first time.
"As a gift from your creator, I bestow upon you the ability to hear and speak," Akaza murmured, his voice smooth and dark.
Shizuka's eyes widened in disbelief. The pain of the transformation mixed with this newfound clarity, leaving her grappling with both the shock of her changing reality and the promise of a new, albeit terrifying, power.
Akaza released her head, and the holes from his claws closed almost instantly, leaving behind no trace of the injury. Shizuka gasped for air, her mind reeling from the sudden cessation of pain and the strange sensation of newfound abilities coursing through her. She could hear the distant rustle of leaves, the chirping of nocturnal insects, and the rhythmic beating of her own heart—sounds that were once silent to her.
Confusion and fear gripped her as she pushed herself up, staggering to her feet. Her eyes never left Akaza, who watched her with a cold, unreadable expression.
"What... What did you do this to me?" she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. The sound of her own voice startled her—she had never heard it before. It was soft, barely more than a breath, but it was real.
Akaza tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if assessing her. "You are no longer the same as you were before," he replied, his voice low and detached. "You have been given a gift, one that comes with great power... and a great curse."
Shizuka shivered, her mind racing with questions she couldn't yet form. The world around her seemed both alien and frightening, every sound sharp and new. She took a step back, her instincts screaming at her to run, to escape this nightmare.
"But why me?" she demanded, her voice growing stronger, though still laced with fear. "What do you want from me?"
Akaza's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "You were chosen. You were weak, vulnerable... perfect for what I needed. And now, you will serve a new purpose."
Akaza stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, and Shizuka felt an involuntary tremor run through her. “Whether you see this as a blessing or a curse is up to you. But understand this, Shizuka. You’re no longer human. From now on, you’re a demon. A servant of Lord Muzan.”
Shizuka looked down at her hands, now as pale as the moon. “What do I do now—” she began to ask when she jumped at the sudden sound of a squirrel darting through the underbrush.
“What will you do? That’s up to you,” Akaza replied simply before vanishing into the darkness.
Shizuka glanced around, trying to make sense of her surroundings, but there was nothing in the dark forest but the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. Suddenly, the familiar scent of someone she knew drifted through the air, drawing her attention back toward the village.
"Rikiya..." she muttered, almost testing the word on her lips. A smile grew on her face, and without a second thought, she raced back to the village. Her speed was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and the thrill of it coursed through her veins. Her heart pounded with a strange, new exhilaration as she tore through the night, driven by the irresistible pull of her lover’s scent.
She eagerly ran toward where she smelled Rikiya, rushing past villagers with expert timing. The world seemed to slow down around her as she weaved between people and buildings.
As she neared the scent’s origin, she slowed down, her grin fading into a look of shock as she stopped in front of a building. She looked up at the sign. It was a brothel.
With a surge of rage, Shizuka tore the door off its hinges as she entered, startling the receptionist at the front desk. The woman’s eyes widened with fear as she tried to assert control over the situation.
"Excuse me, ma’am. You can't just bust the door—"
Before she could speak further, Shizuka’s hand lashed out, and the receptionist’s head was severed from her body, rolling to the floor as her body crumpled lifelessly.
Without a second glance, Shizuka stepped over the corpse and made her way down the dimly lit hallway, following the scent that had led her here. She stopped in front of a closed door and could hear faint voices and laughter inside. The smell of Rikiya was stronger now, mixed with perfume and sweat.
Shizuka kicked the door down with a single powerful blow, revealing Rikiya in bed with two half-naked women. The sudden intrusion sent the women scrambling away in terror, their eyes wide with fear as they backed against the wall.
Rikiya turned his head sharply toward the door, his expression shifting from shock to confusion as he recognized Shizuka.
"Shizuka?" he muttered, disbelief coloring his voice. "What are you doing here?"
But Shizuka didn’t respond. Her eyes were locked on Rikiya, her former lover, her lips curling into a snarl as her newfound demonic nature surged to the surface.
"You... you bastard!" she shouted, her voice shaking with rage. The force of her words made Rikiya flinch, a mix of shock and fear flickering across his face at her sudden intensity.
"You can speak?!" Rikiya questioned, his expression quickly shifting to a fake smile as he tried to regain control of the situation. "That's great, dear—"
Before he could finish, Shizuka lunged forward, her hand wrapping around his throat with inhuman strength. She threw him across the room, slamming him against the wall hard enough to make it crack.
Rikiya coughed up blood, struggling to catch his breath. "Wait! Shizuka, I can explain—"
His words were cut off as Shizuka laughed, a dark, manic sound that echoed through the room. Her laughter held a crazed edge, a sound that sent chills down the spines of the two women cowering in the corner.
Suddenly, Shizuka grabbed Rikiya by the throat again, pinning him against the wall with a strength that lifted his feet off the ground. His eyes widened in terror as he struggled, his hands clawing at her arm in a futile attempt to break free.
"So that's what my 'father' meant by 'half,' huh?!" she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "He sold me off like I was some common houseplant! And you—you were never planning to come back to me, were you? You bastard!"
Shizuka's anger surged, and with a scream, a small sound wave rippled from her mouth, slamming into Rikiya with enough force to make his ears bleed. He screamed in agony, but the sound was muffled by Shizuka's grip on his throat, his voice choked off as blood began to trickle from his ears and nose.
Rikiya's eyes filled with fear and pain as he realized the extent of Shizuka's transformation. She was no longer the woman he once knew; she had become something far more terrifying.
Out of sheer desperation, Rikiya kicked Shizuka, managing to push her off him. Scrambling to his feet, he quickly grabbed a small pocket knife from his person and, with trembling hands, plunged it into her chest, aiming for her heart.
For a moment, the room was deathly silent. Shizuka stood still, her eyes wide, looking down at the knife embedded in her chest. She didn't move, didn't scream, didn't even seem to notice the pain. Instead, she raised her gaze to meet Rikiya's, her eyes cold and lifeless.
"Did you even love me?" she asked, her voice devoid of any emotion.
Rikiya stared at her in shock, his mind reeling from both fear and disbelief. He had expected her to fall, to cry out in pain, to die—but she just stood there, seemingly unfazed.
"Huh? Oh, of course not," Rikiya replied, a smirk creeping onto his face, his fear momentarily overshadowed by arrogance. "What kind of man would love you?" His voice dripped with cruel amusement. "The only reason I even bothered to talk to you was that your father offered me two million to marry you. I mean, what kind of sane human being would otherwise marry you?" He spat the words out, enjoying the sting they might cause.
Shizuka remained silent, her eyes narrowing slightly but otherwise betraying no emotion. Rikiya took another step back, gaining confidence as he continued.
"Well, I suppose that old man was. When you told me your father was making you marry another man, I thought he was breaking our deal. But after a chat with your father, he told me he sold you to a rich noble for ten million! Can you believe that? Someone as worthless as you being sold for ten million?" Rikiya laughed, the sound cruel and mocking.
He expected a reaction—anger, pain, perhaps even despair—but Shizuka just stared at him, her expression eerily calm. Slowly, she reached up and grasped the handle of the knife, pulling it out of her chest without a hint of pain. "I understand..." she spoke softly, almost to herself, as the wound began to close instantly, her demonic regeneration erasing any evidence of the injury.
Rikiya's smirk faded as realization dawned on him. "W-what the—?" he stammered, his voice trembling with fear. The confidence and bravado he had felt moments ago vanished, replaced by sheer terror.
He made eye contact with Shizuka, whose pupils had split and shifted to form the kanji for "Lower Three" within her eyes.
Shizuka's lips curled into a dark smile, her eyes glowing with a cold, menacing light. "You're not Rikiya..." she said, sounding almost relieved, as if some internal conflict had just been resolved.
She pointed at him, her finger steady and accusatory. "You're just an imposter pretending to be him," she continued, her voice growing firmer. Rikiya opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. His ability to speak had vanished, stolen away by the force of Shizuka's newfound powers.
"Rikiya was a kind and nice man. Unlike you. YOU IMPOSTER!" Shizuka shouted, her voice erupting with a fury that shook the very air around them. She lunged at him, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall.
Rikiya clutched his ears, trying to block out the sound, but it was no use. Her voice seemed to penetrate his very skull, echoing inside his mind. His head began to expand painfully, his eyes bulging as the pressure built up inside his skull.
Suddenly, with a gruesome pop, Rikiya's head exploded, splattering the room with blood and gore. His lifeless body slumped to the floor, headless, the walls now painted red with the remnants of what was once his head.
Shizuka stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, her chest heaving with the remnants of her rage. The room was silent now, save for the dripping of blood from the ceiling. Her expression slowly softened as she looked down at the corpse.
"No one pretends to be him," she whispered, her voice calm once more. She stepped back, wiping her hands on the fabric of her kimono, as if she could cleanse herself of the bloodshed she had just caused.
Turning away from the gruesome scene, Shizuka faced the two naked women cowering in fear. Her eyes gleamed with a sinister satisfaction as she gave them a cold, predatory grin. "Sorry about this, but I need to release some steam."
Before they could react, she lunged at them with a swift, brutal force, ending their lives instantly. The room fell silent once more, save for the faint echoes of Shizuka's footsteps as she made her way through the brothel.
After her grim task was done, she exited the building and stepped into the night. The village, once a place of familiar faces and places, now seemed like a target for her unrestrained wrath. The moonlight cast long shadows as she stalked through the streets, her senses sharp and her thirst for destruction palpable.
As she attacked the villagers, her movements were swift and merciless. The once-bustling streets were soon filled with chaos and terror. Screams echoed through the night as Shizuka unleashed her fury on anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path.
She felt a perverse satisfaction in the destruction, each life she claimed fueling the dark power that now coursed through her. The village was no longer a refuge or a home; it was merely a playground for her newfound rage.
By dawn, the village was left in ruin, its streets littered with the aftermath of Shizuka's rampage. She stood amidst the devastation, her form outlined against the rising sun. The blood on her clothes and the chilling calm on her face were testament to the transformation she had undergone.
Akaza observed the chaos unfolding in the village from the edge of the forest, his expression unreadable as the sounds of screams slowly faded into silence. The village was being razed, and he took a moment to appreciate the fruits of Shizuka’s newfound power.
Beside him, the faint, melancholic sound of a biwa being played drew his attention. He turned to see his companion—a pale woman with a grayish complexion and strikingly dark pink lips. Her hip-length black hair cascaded in glossy waves, framed by chin-length strands and long bangs that partially obscured her eyes. She wore a plain black kimono with a muted white lining, secured with a striped pale brown obi. White socks adorned her feet, but she wore no shoes or clogs. In her hands, she held a four-stringed wooden biwa.
The woman's single, large pink eye, marked with the kanji for "Four," glowed softly as she played her instrument. The haunting melody carried a sense of both grace and melancholy, contrasting sharply with the brutality around them.
"Is she not the talent you are looking for, Lord Akaza?" she asked, her voice carrying a calm, almost detached tone.
Akaza sighed, his gaze still fixed on the destruction. "She is talented, but not the kind I’m looking for."
The woman nodded, a subtle understanding in her expression. "Shall we move on, then?"
Akaza gave a curt nod. "Yes."
With a final strum of her biwa, the woman and Akaza disappeared into the shadows, leaving the village behind them, now a scene of utter devastation and silence.
Shizuka burst through the door, her eyes glowing with a cold, predatory gleam. She faced the last survivors of the village: a middle-aged man and a teenage boy.
“Who are you? What are you?” the man demanded, his voice trembling with fear and desperation.
The teenager, armed with a pickfork, charged at Shizuka, trying to stab her. With a casual flick of her hand, Shizuka snapped the pickfork in two, then slapped the boy's head with enough force to send him sprawling, dazed and disoriented.
“What am I? Simple—a demon,” Shizuka replied, her voice dripping with cruel amusement. She turned her gaze toward the man, lifting her hand as if to contemplate her next action.
“And for who?” she pondered aloud, before decisively answering, “Azura,” and swiftly ending the man’s life.
With her task completed, Shizuka turned toward the direction of her former home. Her heart, or what was left of it, beat with a sense of purpose and urgency.
“It’s time I visit Father,” she murmured to herself, determination in her voice. “Maybe he will know where Rikiya is.”
With a burst of speed, she raced toward her village, driven by a newfound sense of purpose and the lingering desire to uncover the whereabouts of her former lover.