Chapter 1 - When The Bell Rang
I think fear should be loud — screaming, running, begging the gods to look down for once.
It is not.
Fear is quiet. It is the sound of your own breath scraping your throat while you are trapped inside a deep, dried-up well, praying the wet warmth dripping onto your face is rain, even after you know it is not.
I wake choking on a scream that never quite leaves my throat.
My heart is already hammering, ribs aching as if I’ve been running. The dark presses close, familiar and suffocating. My room. My futon damp with sweat.
A safe place.
Still, the smell lingers.
I sit up slowly, listening to the house breathe around me — wood settling, paper whispering, distant creaks that almost sound like footsteps. Familiar sounds. Safe sounds. I press my forehead to my knees and count my breaths until my hands stop shaking.
“Just a dream.”
Dreams can be cruel. They take ordinary things — a road, a bell, a face you know — and return them wearing masks of truth.
Rot and iron. Ash still clings to the back of my tongue.
In the dream, dusk swallowed the torii whole. The sky hung low and bruised, like a wound that refused to close. The village bell stood crooked against it, cracked from some violence I had not seen.
The crows left first.
Every last one tore itself from the shrine roof in a single breath, wings beating panic into the air. The street fell silent after that — too silent. Even the cicadas had gone.
I could hear my own fear thinking.
Then the bell rang, deep and thick with something that felt like dread.
That was when the gate opened.
Not splintered. Not forced.
Opened.
The thing that stepped through had almost learned the shape of a person. Too tall. Too broad. Limbs bent, paused, then bent again the correct way, joints clicking softly as if it were assembling itself with patient care.
Its skin stretched over it badly, as if the body underneath had never been meant to fit.
It smiled at nothing — and I was certain it was smiling at me.
We ran.
Dreams don’t linger like this, I tell myself. But this one does.
I push myself out of the futon and nearly collapse. My hands are shaking. They don’t feel like mine yet.
I laugh, soft and stupid, because laughing is better than screaming.
“Get it together,” I whisper into the dark.
I splash water on my face and watch my reflection ripple and fracture. Pale. Hollow-eyed. Alive.
I wait for the smell to fade.
It doesn’t.
“Seriously,” I mutter. “It was only a dream.”
I remember falling. There was cold stone. Smoke above me. Something warm on my face.
I swallow hard.
Someone had called my name in a crooked voice. Almost human. Not entirely.
The part that hurt most wasn’t the screaming. Not the blood.
It was the certainty that I couldn’t bring myself to look.
Soon came the sound of metal slicing through something wet, an object cutting through the air, followed by an animal-like screech. Then nothing but fire settling into ash — and a voice above me, murmuring words I could not understand.
I wanted to scream for help, yet no sound would pass my lips.
The fear had drained me completely. When I finally looked up, dawn was bleeding grey into the sky.
And beneath me—
No.
I press the memory down before it can become a shape.
Behind the thin walls, the floor creaks as someone approaches, bringing me back to reality. I step away from the washbasin.
“Good morning. Yuuna, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?”
I cross paths with my older sister, Lena, as she gazes down at me.
“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream.”
Lena studies me, concern softening her violet eyes. A strand of her dark bob slips loose when she tilts her head.
“Was it the same one again? They’re getting quite frequent.”
I confirm with a small nod.
“I was on my way to wake you up. We’re going to be late.”
Oh.
I forgot to check the time.
I rush back to my room and throw on my academy uniform: a cream kosode beneath dark navy pleated hakama, with my brown haori pulled over both. A voice echoes from the front of the house before I can finish tying everything properly.
“Hurry up! You’re taking forever!”
That’s my other older sister, Charlotte. The middle child. She can really get on my nerves sometimes. And she oversleeps constantly — so why does she get to yell at me the one morning I do?
I stomp to the doorway, slide my feet into my sandals, and step outside.
Sunlight greets us the moment we step outside. It spills over the rooftops and warms my cheeks like an apology for the night before.
Villagers are already awake. Someone is arguing over fish prices. A cart rolls past, wheels creaking lazily. A dog darts between two houses with something stolen in its mouth.
It feels normal. Alive.
“Let’s get moving,” Lena says, adjusting the strap of her bag. “We’re already cutting it close.”
“Yes, commander,” Charlotte sighs dramatically.
I almost smile.
“How was your beauty sleep?” Charlotte nudges me. “You look like the night chewed you up.”
“Good to know I look charming as always.”
She squints at me. “Debatable.”
That gets a small laugh out of me. It feels... nice. Like I can almost forget the dream.
My skin is a little darker than most people’s in the village, so when I look unwell, it stands out — especially beside my blonde hair. My sisters never let me forget it.
Charlotte has the same warm complexion, though her ash-black hair falls past her waist in a loose half-up style. She somehow manages to look composed even when she has only just dragged herself from her futon.
I do wish I had eyes like hers, though — deep crimson and impossible to ignore.
We’ve only taken a few steps when my gaze drifts towards the wooden road gate near the shrine path.
It shifts open as someone passes through.
Just like in my dream.
A small flash of memory grips me — but that gate opens all the time. It is only wood and hinges.
And monsters only live in dreams.
The streets are lined with wooden houses — hardened-earth floors, thatched roofs, sliding doors, all of them worn familiar by years of weather.
We pass an old house with a weathered sword stand visible beyond its open door. The sheathed katana resting there looks more like an heirloom than something anyone carries through the streets.
I try not to stare, but fail.
I’ve always wanted to hold a katana. The swordsmen in old stories move with such calm certainty, as though fear has to ask permission before touching them.
Maybe someone still teaches that kind of discipline. Maybe they would laugh if I asked.
...Still worth asking someday.
Lost in that little fantasy, I bump into someone and knock them over.
A terrible odor hits me — like rotting garbage.
But that’s not it.
It’s a young boy, staring at me with an expression that looks like it wants something. His clothes are filthy and badly worn. Dirt covers his skin, and bruises darken his arms.
I’ve seen him around before, always alone, always hovering near places where food might be discarded.
What does he want? Help?
I don’t want to be cruel.
But I don’t want to deal with this either.
As I scramble to gather my thoughts, a heavy pressure settles over me. I glance around and realise I’m at the centre of several watching pairs of eyes.
Some look disgusted. Others merely look away, as though noticing him would make his hunger their responsibility.
Their negativity seeps into me. My pulse rises. My hands tremble.
Please stop looking. I can’t deal with too many eyes set on me.
“There, there. Take this — and share with your friends too. Alright?”
Lena crouches beside the boy and offers him her entire lunch without hesitation. She doesn’t spare a glance at the bystanders.
I can breathe again.
The boy springs up, bowing repeatedly before running off into the crowd, clutching his prize. Lena turns back to me with a gentle smile, checking if I’m alright.
My eldest sister is kind.
Sometimes too kind.
The circle of onlookers disperses, returning to their routines as if nothing happened.
“Was it alright to give him your food?” I ask as Lena straightens.
“Would you rather leave him to starve?”
She answers with a question.
I don’t respond, because I hate how long it takes me to know the answer.
“Just so you know,” Charlotte adds her usual greedy remark, “I’m not giving you any of mine.”
I wonder if the kid will be alright.
Miyama has no written rule for children like him.
It does not need one.
People know who belongs to which house. They know which names matter, which families will be missed, which absences require questions.
My sisters and I lost our parents years ago, but we still have our home, each other, and a name people recognise.
The boy has none of that.
Or no one willing to admit he does.
People tell different stories when they bother speaking about him at all.
That he ran away. That his family died. That someone else should have taken responsibility.
Every version ends the same way.
Not ours.
Not our problem.
The school comes into view. It’s small. A bit rundown.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to attend a school somewhere else. Somewhere bigger.
Tokyo, maybe.
Then I catch a sound.
A thin metallic clang from one of the narrow alleyways between houses. It’s sharp and hollow. A very familiar sound.
I glance towards the noise and catch a flicker of movement before someone disappears around a corner.
Probably nothing. It’s always probably nothing.
Still...
My eyes drift to something lying farther down the alley. Partially covered, lying still.
That wrong feeling curls low in my stomach.
I should just follow my sisters, yet I do the opposite.
Something about it pulls at me.
The rooftops above connect, casting the alley in shadow. Without thinking, I veer away from my sisters for a closer look.
What is that?
It’s covered with cloth, but it doesn’t look like garbage.
The alley smells wrong.
Not trash, nor rainwater.
Iron.
My foot lands in something wet and my gaze is dragged towards it.
My heart drops.
No.
No, no—
The cloth isn’t covering garbage! It’s covering someone!
My hands move before my mind can catch up. I pull the fabric back, and regret that decision.
His eyes are still open.
For one horrible second, I think he looks confused.
Like he never understood why.
I recognise him instantly — it’s the boy from earlier. Lena’s lunch is scattered beside him, rice crushed into the dirt.
He didn’t even get to eat it.
Something climbs up my throat. I turn away, pressing my palm to the wall, forcing myself not to be sick.
It hasn’t been long since he bowed — since my older sister made him smile.
If not for Lena, I might have looked away before his hunger became real to me.
Now—
“Yuuna! Where did you go?!”
Charlotte’s voice echoes faintly from the street.
I don’t answer.
If they see this... if Lena sees this—
I don’t know what that would do to her.
So I step back.
And then another step.
And I do the one thing this village has taught me to do best.
I walk away.
Because if you look away long enough, it will become someone else’s responsibility.
And that’s exactly what I do.
———
“...and with the end of the Meiji period, the country entered the era we live in now. That will be all for today. Class dismissed.”
History class finally releases us.
Barely.
I’ve never been that interested in the past of our country.
Old battles. Old names. Old men deciding which era everyone else has to remember.
Dinosaurs, though, are different.
Giant creatures that once walked the earth are much easier to respect than another lecture about dates.
“What are you daydreaming about this time?”
I’m yanked out of my prehistoric fantasies by a familiar voice.
“Gotta be something important, right?”
Hidiku Hakryuu leans over my desk, black hair falling into his bright blue eyes. If he stood under the night sky, he’d disappear — except for those ridiculous star-bright eyes.
“Dinosaurs,” I say.
“...Dinosaurs? Why?”
“Because they’re better than history.”
He just stares at me.
Do I blame him?
Not at all.
“Actually,” he says, pulling a chair over and sitting beside me, lowering his voice like we’re about to discuss state secrets, “I wanted to ask you something.”
This better be good. History has already taken enough from me today.
“It’s about Lena.”
Of course it is.
He leans even closer, whispering so quietly I can barely hear him. It would be tragic if Lena overheard. Or anyone, really.
It’s kind of adorable.
“Yeah?” I reply, feigning perfect innocence. “What about her?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “What’s her favourite flower? And her favourite colour. I want to get it right this time.”
Ah. So he has decided embarrassment requires planning.
Because yes — every time he gives her something, he leaves it anonymously in her cubby. No note. No name.
Lena has no idea.
Nobody does.
Except me.
And his sister.
I give him a slow, mischievous smile.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her yourself? Look, she’s right there.”
I point towards the back of the room, where Lena is chatting with Charlotte and Hidiku’s older sister, Himari. Their advanced-course lesson ended early, so they have drifted into our classroom before the shared break.
All three of them notice immediately.
Hidiku turns red so fast it’s honestly impressive.
Himari gives him the softest, most knowing smile. Lena and Charlotte just look confused.
“It’s rude to point,” Lena says as she approaches. “Do you need something?”
“I don’t,” I reply sweetly. “But the gentleman next to me might.”
His body chooses escape before his pride can object.
Hidiku shoots up from his chair like it’s on fire.
“Actually! I just remembered one of the teachers needed me!”
And he bolts.
I blink.
“...coward.”
The word lands wrong.
My thoughts lurch back to the alley from earlier.
Lena tilts her head. “What was that about?”
“Oh, nothing important.”
Before she can press further, the rear classroom door slams open with theatrical violence.
“Himari! Your time has come! Submit your lunch, or face my wrath!”
Enmei Hakryuu fills the doorway like he rehearsed that entrance all morning. Tall, dramatic, white hair gleaming in the sunlight. Red eyes blazing with completely unnecessary intensity.
Enmei’s daily attempt at becoming a household calamity has begun.
Himari’s eye twitches.
“Huh?! That’s my food! Maybe if you spent less time trying to learn spells from fairy tales and more time cooking, you wouldn’t starve! What are you, five?!”
The twins glare at each other — the same crimson eyes, the same pale colouring, and almost nothing else in common. Enmei is taller, louder, and far more convinced he is impressive.
I give it five seconds.
The household calamity charges.
Punch. Punch. Wild, dramatic swing.
Himari sidesteps everything with terrifying efficiency, grabs his arm mid-strike, twists—
—and sends him to the floor in a move that looks extremely painful.
Charlotte strolls over and peers down at Enmei writhing on the ground.
“Never a dull moment at your house, huh?”
Himari sighs.
“I’m only teaching her the proper respect owed to her future overlord!” Enmei wheezes.
Himari plants one foot beside his head and leans down with the calm of someone deciding whether mercy is worth the trouble.
Enmei goes very still.
Anyway.
There’s the surrender.
“I’m kind of glad my siblings are both girls,” Lena murmurs.
I couldn’t agree more.
Our academy is small enough that several age groups share the same building, library, breaks, and some practical lessons. Younger pupils like Hidiku and me study together, Charlotte belongs to the intermediate course, while Lena, Himari, and Enmei take the advanced lessons.
Well.
Maybe a little.
Lena, Himari, and Enmei are already eighteen. Lena and Himari plan to continue their studies outside Miyama next year.
Must be nice.
A soft sound brushes against my ear. So faint I ignore it. But then it happens again.
It sounds like my name.
“Yuuna.”
I glance around.
Hidiku stands in the doorway he ran through earlier, urgently waving me over.
Oh no. More Lena interrogation?
Curiosity wins.
“What is it now?” I ask as I approach.
Without warning, he grabs my wrist and pulls me down the hallway.
“I found something cool! You’ll like it, I swear!”
This better not be a prank.
We stop in front of the library.
My least favourite place in the building.
“...Are we looking at picture books?”
He doesn’t even dignify that with a glance. Instead, he scans the shelves with exaggerated seriousness.
“I am not a child, Yuuna. Just wait.”
Mm-hmm.
He pulls out a dark violet book coated in thick dust. Strange symbols crawl across its cover. It looks old. Older than the both of us, than any other book in this room.
Almost... important.
Okay, now I’m interested.
We sit down and open it.
The pages are filled with symbols I’ve never seen before. Nothing recognisable. No proper sentences. Just clusters of words, scattered across empty space.
“What language is this?” I murmur.
Hidiku’s eyes sparkle. “We should show the others!”
“Can it wait? It’s just a weird book.”
Once again I am ignored.
We rush back towards the classroom—
—and the bell rings.
Saved.
“Oh well,” I say, heading to my desk. “The mystery is postponed.”
The next lesson drags on endlessly. I’m half asleep.
But the book on Hidiku’s lap keeps pulling at my attention, quiet and steady, like it knows I will look eventually.
Later, we gather outside the village on a patch of soft spring grass. The air smells fresh. Warm.
And faintly guilty.
Because we absolutely stole this book.
“Open it already!” Himari demands, practically vibrating.
Hidiku carefully flips through the pages while we hover around him.
Most pages are just scattered words.
Some pages show strange diagrams — circles nested inside circles, symbols arranged like seals, shapes that make my eyes want to slide away from them.
Then—
I see it.
A crooked humanoid figure.
Bent wrong.
Smiling wrong.
My stomach tightens.
It looks exactly like—
No.
Just a coincidence.
“I can’t read any of this,” Lena says, disappointed.
Charlotte suddenly grabs the book when it lands on a page with a carved outline of a palm.
“It says, ‘Place your hand here and your wish will come true!’”
“You can read that?!” Himari gasps.
“You bet I can.”
That is absolute nonsense.
Charlotte slams her palm onto the page dramatically.
“I wish to marry someone rich, handsome, and hopelessly devoted to me.”
Himari snatches it next.
“I wish to grow taller — and maybe look a little more like an adult while I’m at it.”
Fair enough.
It’s passed on to Lena.
“I wish all of us are forever happy... I guess?”
She sounds a bit nervous.
Enmei grabs it.
“I wish for power beyond mortal understanding — and to become the strongest man alive!”
Of course you do.
Hidiku takes it more gently.
“I wish for my family and friends to stay healthy and live long, happy lives.”
Himari immediately tackles him in a hug.
“That’s so cute! Who’s my good little brother?”
His face turns pink instantly.
Then the book is in front of me.
“Your turn.”
I hesitate.
I’ve mocked everyone else.
Now I actually have to think.
The page feels... warmer than it should.
The paper there looks darker than the rest, almost bruised into violet around the shape.
And yet, this is the one that draws me in the most.
I press my palm against the worn outline.
For one heartbeat, the warmth under my hand pulses.
“I wish -”
A sudden pressure hits my back.
Heavy.
Cold.
I whip around.
Enmei stares at me.
“What?”
“...Nothing.”
Was that him?
Or did something loom above me?
Something watching.
Something waiting.
Maybe I’m imagining it.
“The sun’s setting,” Lena says. “Let’s head home.”
I close the book.
Hidiku watches me stand, mild disappointment flickering in his eyes.
“She’s right,” I say. “I’ll return it.”
I leave my own wish unfinished and part ways with the others.
But the feeling doesn’t leave.
The school is darker now under the fading sunset. The shadows stretch too long. The halls feel... narrower.
I just want to crawl under my blankets and disappear.
I return the book to its shelf in the library and let out a quiet breath.
The pressure on my shoulders eases.
Just a little.
I turn to leave.
“Make... a... wish...”
The voice is faint.
Raspy.
Right behind me.
Cold runs down my spine.
I turn slowly towards the shelf.
The book sits exactly where I left it.
And I’m supposed to be alone.
A suffocating dread settles over the room. The pressure comes back.
The same invisible weight I felt earlier — heavy, watchful, wrong.
My mind scrambles for logic.
Old wood.
Wind.
My own fear turning sound into shape.
I cling to the easiest answer.
“It’s just your imagination, Yuuna. Just your imagination.”
I repeat it like a spell.
Then I slam the library door shut and bolt down the hallway, running faster than dignity allows. My sandals slap against the wooden floor as I burst outside.
The moment fresh air hits my lungs, the pressure fades. I almost laugh in relief.
“See?” I whisper. “Nothing. Just nerves.”
Even as I try to dismiss it, something twists deeper inside me.
This is not small.
This is not nerves.
I do not know what it is.
I only know I want to be far away from it.
I don’t even make it halfway home before I run into Himari near the bend in the road. The sun is already sinking low, staining the sky orange and red, so what is she still doing outside?
“Oh, Yuuna,” she says, surprised. “You’re not home yet?”
“Right back at you,” I reply. “Escaping your chaotic household for once?”
She snorts softly and shakes her head, pale hair shifting over her sharp red eyes.
“Just needed some fresh air. Even I need a break sometimes.”
That makes me smile. Even the fearless Himari has limits.
“Want to walk with me?” she asks.
“Sure. Why not?”
We stroll through Miyama as the village settles for the night. Doors slide shut. Lamps flicker to life. The scent of dinner lingers in the air. And a soft spring breeze brushes against us, tugging at my ponytail.
It’s peaceful. Almost enough to forget everything.
“My last year here,” Himari says suddenly. “Can you believe it? Miyama’s great troublemaker, preparing to become respectable.”
She grins. “Even if everyone still mistakes me for someone’s little sister.”
“Hey,” I mutter. “Some of us are still that size.”
She laughs.
Then her tone softens.
“When Lena and I leave to continue our studies... I’ll worry about Hidiku.” She looks at me seriously now. “Will you look after him?”
The question hits harder than I expect — I stop in my tracks.
Things will change.
Lena. Himari.
They want to study in a larger town or city next year, somewhere with opportunities Miyama cannot give them. I’ve never really let myself think about it. Enmei may leave too, though with him it is impossible to tell whether a plan is real or part of another performance. Either way, the village will feel quieter without them.
“Y-Yeah,” I say. “I’ll do my best.”
She holds out her pinky.
“Promise?”
I blink.
“Isn’t that for children?”
“Promise.”
She insists, so I hook my finger around hers anyway.
“...I promise.”
It should feel childish, yet it doesn’t.
We turn back towards the road gate near the shrine path.
That’s when it rings.
The bell.
Low.
Deep.
Wrong.
The sound crawls through my bones as both of us look towards the shrine on the hill.
The stairway. The torii gate.
The sunset darkens all at once, orange and red collapsing into bruised purple dusk.
Then the bell rings again.
And suddenly—
The crows tear themselves from the shrine roof in one violent wave, wings beating panic into the air.
The village goes silent. Too silent. Even the cicadas stop.
My blood turns to ice. I’ve seen this.
Not clearly.
Not all of it.
But enough.
And just like that, the gate doesn’t splinter.
It doesn’t break.
It just opens, slowly—
very slowly.
Every muscle in my body screams at me to run, yet I can’t move. I can’t even breathe.
The thing that steps through the gate doesn’t seem to belong in this world.
It has almost learned the shape of a person.
Too tall.
Too broad.
Its limbs bend wrong, pause, then correct themselves with quiet, patient clicks — like something assembling a body it only half understands.
Its skin stretches over it badly, as if the body underneath was never meant to fit. And even without eyes—
I’m certain it’s looking at me.
It smiles.
Himari yanks my arm.
“Yuuna… I think we should run.”
My body snaps back to life and we run.
“What is that?! A bear? Something from the mountain? Someone get the watchmen!”
It’s not a bear. It’s not anything natural.
I’ve seen this before. Over and over again.
Only—
It was supposed to be a dream.
Where are the men who watch the road at sunset? Someone is always near the gate when evening comes. So where are they?
The lamps flicker to life along the streets as villagers spill outside. Confused and alarmed.
Men grab what they can — old blades, farm tools, poles, anything close enough to pretend it might matter.
Then I hear it. A wet slicing sound.
Over.
And over.
And over.
Like cleaving through sacks of meat.
Then the screaming starts, the most horrific kinds.
Not like in stories. This kind tears through the air.
I almost look back, but Himari’s voice cuts through my panic.
“Yuuna! Eyes forward! Don’t look back!”
Her eyes are wide with terror, and somehow that makes everything worse.
Himari is scared too.
Something large flies past us before landing ahead with a sickening, heavy thud.
We both freeze.
It takes my brain a second too long to understand what I’m looking at.
Then I recognise the upper half of a body, torn clean at the waist.
The head is missing. Something spills darkly across the road. My legs give out.
I hit the ground hard, breath shattering in my chest.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t—
I vomit.
Heat flares behind me — something explodes. A house? I barely register it.
“Yuuna! Get up!”
Himari’s voice cracks.
She pulls at me, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“Is that... who I think it is?”
I spot Charlotte ahead of us and Lena beside her — pale and shaking.
Moments later, Hidiku and Enmei rush into the junction from another lane.
All of us gather, our fear catching on the same impossible shape.
Enmei is the only one not looking at the corpse. He’s looking past it, at the thing walking towards us.
Flames and bodies surround it.
Some villagers still try to fight, yet they don’t even get close. People step forward, and something I cannot see cuts them down before their blades ever reach it.
Its skull is wrapped tight in dried skin. Its eye sockets are empty.
And yet—
I feel its gaze pierce straight through me.
“We need to move! Now!” Lena shouts.
Himari pulls me upright just as Hidiku takes a step towards us.
Then something invisible slices through the space between us.
The ground tears open in a violent line.
Packed earth, gravel, and splintered wood fly everywhere.
In a single stroke, we’re separated.
Himari doesn’t hesitate before she drags me in another direction.
“All of you run! Hide! We’ll find you later!”
We don’t cross the carved trench. Himari and I seem to share the same bad feeling about crossing it.
We stumble through streets the fire has not reached yet.
“There’s a monster!” Himari screams at a door we pass. “Run!”
I do not know if anyone hears us.
I do not know if it matters.
There is no room to think.
The questions come anyway.
Can this thing be beaten?
Is this it, for all of us?
I glance back.
It is still there.
Farther than it should be.
Then the smoke shifts, the flames bend, and for one impossible heartbeat I lose sight of it.
It is not fast, or maybe it just does not want to be. Like it knows we cannot escape.
Then it grins.
I don’t know how it happens, but every instinct in my body detonates at once.
Without thinking, I grab Himari and drop, pulling her down with me so hard we both hit the ground.
A fraction of a second later—
The road behind us becomes a single impossible line.
Posts split. Doors shear apart. People standing too close simply come undone.
My ponytail falls beside me, severed clean.
Flames ignite along the cut. The street becomes a corridor of fire and corpses to which I shut my eyes.
But darkness doesn’t make the screams disappear. It doesn’t block the crackling wood, nor does it block the smell of torched flesh.
I’ve never imagined being in the centre of something like this.
Blood covers my uniform, but that blood isn’t mine.
Himari is already moving again. Then a woman ahead of us screams.
“A monster!”
A heavy footstep lands behind me.
Too close.
Too loud.
My gaze spins back.
It’s standing over me. So much taller than I initially realised. Its shadow swallows me whole.
How did it get here so fast? I barely have time to think before its massive, skeletal tail swings towards me.
There’s no way I can evade it in time.
Then — in a flash — a curtain of white hair fills my vision.
Himari.
The tail strikes us with bone-shattering, air-stealing force.
The world disappears.
For a few endless seconds, my body crashes through wood and something brittle before I slam into the ground beyond the ruined wall.
My vision swims. My head spins.
I can’t piece together what just happened.
A broken path gapes through the side of the house behind us, carved by the impact.
Did I just... fly through that?
Wait, where’s Himari?
I find her a short distance behind me, lying facedown with her back towards me.
We’re behind an abandoned household, in a neglected patch of grass hemmed in by fire-weakened buildings.
I try to stand, but something within me cracks.
I drop back down, breath tearing in and out of my lungs. Pain rips across my back and ribs.
The second attempt works. Barely.
I stagger to my friend and pull her slightly towards me.
“Himari? Are you alright?”
Something is wrong.
Her breathing is too sharp. Too frantic. Like she’s drowning in air.
My hand moves to her abdomen. The lighting is poor, but my fingers tell me what my eyes don’t want to see.
There’s an absence.
A hollow where there should not be one.
My mouth opens, but the words that come out do not make sense even to me.
The confusion from earlier makes sickening sense now.
She shielded me. She took the worst of the blow.
“Hey! Himari! Talk to me!”
Panic turns into grief, rising like bile in my throat as I touch her shoulder.
“Please!”
Himari coughs. Blood spills from her mouth — far too much of it.
What do I do? What do I do?
“Yuu...na...”
The sound barely forms.
“I’m not leaving you here!”
It takes several frantic attempts, but I tear cloth from my sleeve and press it against the wound. My hands are slick. I know it cannot fix what has happened, but doing nothing feels worse.
Then it returns. The heavy, ground-crushing footsteps.
It’s coming from inside the house, taking its time.
We have to move.
Fear gives me just enough strength to move.
Not enough to make it easy.
Only enough to make stopping impossible.
She protected me. Now it’s my turn.
Himari barely reacts when I drag her onto my back.
She has always been small, but now her weight feels wrong — limp and frighteningly difficult to keep balanced.
Running isn’t possible. It’s more of a desperate limp, uneven and clumsy, but I keep moving.
“Yuu...na...”
Maybe she is telling me to run.
Maybe she is only trying to breathe.
I refuse both possibilities.
Tears blur my sight.
“Shut up and save your strength! I’m not leaving you, whether you like it or not!”
I stagger between damaged houses, choosing whatever narrow path is not already burning. Each step jars through my back and ribs, but I keep moving.
By the time I reach the overgrown yard of another abandoned home, most of my strength is gone.
An old well squats near the centre, its mouth covered by warped wooden boards silvered with age.
I have passed this place before, but no one has lived here for years.
My lungs can’t draw in enough air. Each breath feels shallow and incomplete.
A groan runs through the burning structure beside us.
No. No, no—
The wall gives way. Fire-weakened beams and roof tiles collapse into the yard in a roar.
Sparks and dust swallow everything.
I twist, trying to shield Himari with my own body for once.
Something heavy strikes my shoulder and throws us forward.
My knees hit the old boards over the well.
The wood bends beneath us with a long, splintering crack.
The well.
No—
The cover breaks. Himari slips from my back as the boards vanish beneath us, and I lose my grip on her wrist.
There is barely time to see her fall below me.
We hit the bottom.
Himari lands first.
Then I crash down on top of her.
The sound is wet and wrong.
So wrong.
Pain tears through my right arm, my left leg, and the right side of my chest all at once.
For a moment, I cannot move. I cannot even understand which part of me hurts most.
Warmth spreads beneath me, soaking into my clothes.
The well fills with the metallic scent of iron, and I am too afraid to shift my weight.
Tears spill freely, blurring what little darkness I can see.
Why?
Why did it come to this?
We had a peaceful life. A loving family. Good friends.
We laughed.
So why?
Why are our homes burning?
Why does something like that exist?
Why am I lying on top of—
Something shifts beneath me.
A breath. Thin and wet.
Relief hits so hard it hurts.
“You’re alive.”
I try to move off her, but my right arm folds beneath me and pain tears through my ribs.
“Wait. I’ll—I’ll get up.”
My left leg refuses to follow. Something near the ankle feels broken, trapped beneath my weight.
The well is so narrow that there is nowhere to move without touching her.
Her fingers twitch against the dirt.
They do not reach me.
“Himari?”
Another breath leaves her.
No answer follows it.
A burst of flame above briefly illuminates the bottom of the well.
Himari’s eyes are half open. Blood stains her mouth, and I can only think the fall — my weight — made the wound worse.
My stomach revolts. I turn as far as my body lets me and vomit.
Then the sobbing begins.
And then—
That voice.
Crooked and dark.
“Your... wish...”
Everything inside me drops away. My lungs lock up.
I stare at the circular opening above, unable to blink.
The familiar heavy footsteps return. The thing is approaching.
It found us.
I try to breathe, but the shock will not let me.
Just as I am certain the monster is peering down into the well, two other voices cut through the night above.
A man and a girl.
Above us, the night breaks apart.
Metal.
A crash.
Something screams — or maybe someone does.
I try to lift my head, but the darkness folds over me before I can understand what I am hearing.
I try to stay awake.
For Himari.
For my sisters.
For anyone.
I fail.
———
“Here! I found them!”
A voice pulls me upward through layers of darkness.
Not the crooked one.
A girl.
I force my eyes open.
Grey morning hangs above the well. Ash drifts through the opening in slow, weightless pieces.
I do not know how long I have been here.
My whole body is cold except for the places where pain burns through it.
A face appears over the broken rim.
“Hey! Can you hear me down there?”
I try to answer, but only a broken sound leaves my throat.
“She’s alive,” the girl calls. “Lower the rope.”
A rope drops into the narrow darkness. A moment later, she descends beside me, boots scraping the stone.
Long dark hair falls over one shoulder as she crouches. Her hands are steady in a way nothing else is.
“Don’t move,” she says.
“Himari-”
Her bright green eyes shift beneath me.
For one terrible moment, she says nothing.
She reaches carefully past my shoulder and checks Himari’s neck.
I already know.
Knowing does not stop me from waiting.
The girl looks back at me. Her hand settles gently against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “You shouldn’t have had to go through this.”
My mouth opens, but no sound comes.
“We’re going to get you out first. We won’t leave her here.”
She threads folded cloth beneath my injured arm and secures it against my chest. Every small movement sends white pain through me.
“I know,” she whispers when I cry out. “I’m sorry. Just a little longer.”
The rope tightens around the improvised sling supporting my back and hips.
“Ready,” she calls upward.
I try to ask about Himari again, but the words tangle behind my teeth.
The girl from the well braces my injured arm with both hands.
Then the bottom of the well falls away beneath me.
Stone slides past. Rope groans against wood above.
For one breathless moment, I am certain I will fall again.
Cold air touches my face.
A man pulls me over the broken rim and lowers me onto a board padded with torn cloth. His hands are steady. His voice is calmer than anything has a right to be here.
He asks for my name. And after I manage to give him an answer, he nods once.
“Yuuna Endo, I see. I’m Yasuhiko Moriyasu. Stay still. I’m going to secure your arm and leg before we move you.”
There’s someone behind him.
Dark hair. Blue eyes. Dirt and dried blood across his face.
“Hidiku...”
The relief is so sharp it aches.
He takes one step towards me, then looks past the well.
“Where’s Big Sis?”
I can’t answer.
Below us, the girl from the well secures Himari’s body. The rope begins to rise again.
Mister Moriyasu moves in front of Hidiku, trying to guide him away before the cloth-wrapped shape clears the rim.
The girl climbs over the well’s hole, placing Himari’s body onto the ashed soil.
Hidiku breaks free.
“No! Big Sis!”
He drops beside her so quickly his knees strike the ground. His hands hover above the cloth, above her hair, trembling as if touching her will make the truth permanent.
Then he grips the edge of the wrapping and folds over her.
The sound he makes doesn’t resemble a word.
Mister Moriyasu and the dark-haired girl stand back. No one tells him to stop. No one tells him it will be alright.
I lie only a few steps away, trapped inside my own body.
I can’t reach him.
I can’t even lift my good hand without making the world spin.
All I can do is cry with him.
Later, after Mister Moriyasu finishes binding my arm and leg in place, I ask the question that has been burning through me since I woke.
“The thing that attacked us... what was it?”
Mister Moriyasu’s face hardens.
“A demon,” he says.
The word should sound ridiculous.
It doesn’t.
“But let’s leave that for later.” he says, quieter. “You need to survive the morning first.”
“Is it dead?”
His silence answers before he does.
“No. It escaped.”
Something cold settles beneath my skin.
The thing that looked down into the well and knew my voice is still alive.
We bury Himari beneath a cedar near the edge of the forest.
There is no coffin. Mister Moriyasu and the dark-haired girl wrap her in salvaged cloth while Hidiku watches without blinking.
They keep me fixed to the board because moving me again would shift the broken places. I can see the grave from where I lie, but I can’t sit up. I can’t go to Hidiku when the first earth strikes the cloth.
Mister Moriyasu offers a short prayer.
Hidiku stands at the edge with his fists clenched so tightly they tremble.
His mouth moves against the cloth.
At first, I cannot hear him.
Then the words reach me, small and shaking.
“I’ll kill it.”
I remain awake until the last handful of earth falls.
Only then do I let the darkness take me.
———
The cart wheels complain beneath me.
Gravel.
A shoulder beside mine.
The dark-haired girl’s voice, low and close.
Mister Moriyasu’s footsteps in front.
Darkness again.
Water against my lips.
Cloth pulled from skin.
A voice telling me to breathe.
Hands holding my shoulder and hip still.
Pain so bright that the room disappears.
Someone says my name.
Wood shifts back into place with a sickening pressure.
I scream.
Or maybe I only dream that I do.
———
When I finally wake properly, the first thing I understand is pain.
The second is that I am not home.
The ceiling above me is unfamiliar. The smell is unfamiliar. Even the silence is wrong.
For several seconds, I forget.
Then I try to sit up.
Pain locks around my ribs and throws me back against the bedding.
“Easy.”
The dark-haired girl from the well is beside me before I can try again. My right arm is trapped in a splint. My left leg is wrapped and immobilised beneath the blankets.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“It hurts.”
Another girl is standing near the foot of the bedding, holding a cup and folded cloth.
“You were troublesome,” she says.
“Viola.”
The warning in the dark-haired girl’s voice is gentle, but unmistakable.
“Very brave,” Viola corrects herself, and sets the cup beside me.
I look between them.
“My sisters.”
The words scrape out before anything else can.
Mister Moriyasu enters a moment later. Whatever answer he carries is written across his face before he speaks.
“Survivors were taken towards Kyoto,” he says.
The word survivors catches in me so hard I almost mistake it for relief.
I stare at him silently, still scrambling for my thoughts.
“The message did not include any names.”
Hope rises too quickly, then falls just as fast.
Mister Moriyasu kneels beside the bedding so I don’t have to strain my neck to see him.
“But your sisters may have been among them. Until I learn otherwise, you should hold on to that possibility.”
May have been.
Not are.
I hate the difference between those words.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Not continuously,” the dark-haired girl says. “You drifted in and out for about two days.”
Two days.
My thoughts stumble over one another.
Mister Moriyasu gestures towards the dark-haired girl beside me.
“This is Ena Nagi. She has been handling most of your treatment. Viola assisted her.”
“Thank you, Miss Nagi.”
“Ena is fine,” she says.
Absolutely not.
I nearly died in a well and somehow this is what embarrasses me.
Mister Moriyasu begins to explain that the roads around Miyama are unsafe and that no physician could be brought through yet. He promises to tell me more about the demon when I’m strong enough to stay awake through the explanation.
I want to argue.
My body betrays me with a yawn.
Miss Nagi notices, of course.
“Rest.”
And I listen.
———
Evening has settled over the room when Viola opens the door again.
Hidiku is standing behind her.
He looks cleaner than he did beside the well, but not better. His eyes are swollen. His shoulders seem too heavy for him.
Viola glances between us and quietly steps away, sliding the door closed behind her.
Hidiku remains near the entrance.
“You can come closer,” I say.
He does, slowly, and sits beside the bedding.
For a while neither of us speaks.
There are too many things between us now.
Himari beneath the cedar.
My sisters somewhere on the road to Kyoto. Maybe.
The demon still alive.
Hidiku looks at the splint around my arm, then at the blankets hiding my leg.
His mouth opens once, but nothing comes out.
When he finally speaks, his voice is small enough that I almost miss it.
“I thought you were going to die too.”
The words are barely louder than breath.
I do not know what to say.
So I hold on as much as my broken body allows.
