Demon | of | Revenge

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Laying, bored as usual, in the center of the Tsukiakari shrine, Ankoku, the demon of revenge, stared stultifyingly at the tree's slowly beginning to lose their charm, blossoms, and leaves. Fall was approaching along with winter following afterwards. Not that she cared. Ankoku hardly paid attention to the seasons. In fact, she was quite apathetic about many things after all the years she's lived her dull life, 'It's always the same thing, over and over again.' She thought tiredly to herself. Lately, the individual prayers that she had gotten were all stories about how someone's loved one was killed by a demon or another human, and she, Ankoku, had to go hunt down the killer and take care of them herself. She was named the demon of revenge for a good reason, but sometimes, she wanted a more interesting request than the same stories over and over again.

Ankoku glanced over at the donation boxes, ones where people tossed any extra money in hopes that their luck of their wishes being granted would be increased. Out of boredom, and curiosity, she got up, walking barefoot, as usual, on the smooth wooden floors of the Tsukiakari housing until she reached the front of the shrine. It was no surprise how quiet it was and how no one was in sight of the shrine. They were, even during the war, still quite unpopular.

She walked by every single demon, spirit, and their great god's boxes until she reached her own. A few coins, as expected. Ankoku was still quite a minor demon, hardly known, hardly powerful. But what told her that she was still there and remembered was when she got prayers. Of course, they were mostly from bad people. What good person would want revenge? No one.

Just as she scoffed at how poor Tsukiakari really was, she realized that she was getting another prayer, 'My brother was killed in this war. A demon killed him on the battle field, one with a large head and a tiny body. It was tall and intimidating. Please take revenge for me, Ankoku.' Ankoku frowned with annoyance at this and wiped the memory clear from her head, deciding not to take that job. As unsatisfied as she was, she'd rather be that than have to replay the same story all over again for the hundredth time.

'It's just another damn prayer. Who the hell cares if I don't take revenge for them either? Honestly... humans are so tiring... We don't have to do all their work. If they really wanted revenge, they wouldn't call on a demon to do their bidding.' Just like the gods who had unleashed hell, Ankoku, too, despised most humans.

Ankoku was orignally about to walk away, seeing as there was nothing of interest to her there until there was a chime of the bell; the bell belonging to Tsukiakari's shrine. That meant that there was a prayer for the whole entire group. The whole entire Tsukiakari group. Quickly, she ran back to the largest saisen, the donation box, which obviously was for the Tsukiakari group, and found a prayer written across the board, how they are usually written for the group.

''The demons are spreading to my village lately, and they're terrorizing everyone. It started with just a few pranks, like breaking pots or tripping the kids, but it's gotten more violent. People are dying and we can see them clearly now. They're wiping out the whole entire village. Our men, including myself, can't stop them, and the women and children are being killed. Please, Tsukiakari, help us.'

It was from an adult male villager, and this made Ankoku grow eager. Rudely, as usual, she called throughout to those who were still in the area of the shrine, "Off your asses, fools! Get over here! We finally got a prayer." She felt the excitement rush through her while she yelled. Hell, she could care less if anyone was bothered by her yelling at this point.

Time: A Week Ago

Cough.

“Xun- anyone want a beautiful Xun?” Kumorimaru was a strange sight indeed, his kimono a vibrant color compared to the dark blues and greys that moved around him. The wooden box on his back clinked, its wares inside bumped lightly against one another as Kumorimaru walked, the paper umbrella blocking the sun standing out like a pink spot amongst the dark masses. A cat sat on top of the box, swaying around with a pink glow resting on its white fur, cast on it by the umbrella. It swayed with each step, listening to the clinks of clay hitting on another, listening to the shouts of the market that raged around them. To the children screaming into the air, and to the selling of wares that Kumorimaru’s weak voice joined in. The cat closed its eyes, the light blue irises vanishing from sight, the look on its face serene, human-like; a serene, happy look that no one else carried on their face. But it suddenly opened its eyes, pupils dilated and fur on edge, a purr rippling through its throat, through the crowd and back again, resounding loudly in Kumorimaru’s left ear. A loud thudding-thud-thud of a tail thumping on hollow wood, but the clink-a-clink gone from the crowd.

“Kill him for me! Kill him for me, oh yokai of Jigoku! Drag my son’s killer to the lowest level of the Underworld and place him under the punishing hands of Enma Dai-O!” A woman’s frenzied yell cut through the crowd, as if splitting it in half, the people moving in circles, in frenzies, colors bursting forth and colors splitting into the air. The box was gone- so was the cat. Where is the cat? The cat is gone- not in this world, this was a different world, a world of darkness. Kumorimaru stepped out of his kimono, out of his skin, watching them disintegrate into the darkness, swirling in fast circles, away from sight, away into the darkness. A clench of the fist and the flash of the eyes- tattoos swirled alive on Kumorimaru’s arms, bright gold on brown skin, mingling with the gold kimono, as if of one singular substance. A sword- Is this a sword?- attached to his hip and another step forward; A room consolidated in front of Kumorimaru, a weeping woman begging and kneeling, hands on the floor. “Savior! Oh- oh, savior!” The crying woman burst out, foam forming on the corners of her mouth, spittle tip-tapping and meeting their end. “Bring justice to my boy! My poor dead boy, he was but five!” Sightless eyes, his thoughts formed, watching the mother wail, her trembling hands holding up her 500 yen. Sightless eyes for a sightless fool.

Down the coin went, down his pocket, down the gold satin pocket that adorned his gold satin kimono. “It is done- but thou must giveth in return what thy holds closest to thine wretched heart.” Swirls adorned the room again, bright swirls of dim red and grey, and then- nothing. Nothing adorned the sky and nothing sounded in the distance; nothing surrounded Kumorimaru and nothing happened to his mind.

Until his next victim appeared. A quick ghost- a quick step. No more did Edo surround the two, but the swirling colors of mirth and filth- vanity and anger, lust and gluttony. “For thine sins that thou hath commit within thine life,” the walls shimmered, transferring word after word to the ears of the shuddering man, words bouncing between the two figures that stood in the no man’s land. “Thou shalt repent for all eternity.” A step- a thud. The sword handle drawn, a red mist burst forth, surrounding the man in but a form of a drum. A step- a thud. The hilt of the sword hit the drum, a vibration echoing through the room as the man’s scream filled the din.

Thump thump thump thump.

The drum was no more- a ball of shadow laid in its place. “Silence, human. No scream shall set thou free. Repent in the depths of Jigoku; repent with thine nightmares cursing thee.” A wave of the hand- the man appeared, paralyzed, hovering in air, drool drip-dropping to the floor below, eyes rolled up to see his screaming brain. “I taketh thine life for eternity, oh Human. But thou shalt not be alone- others await thou with their screams, too.” A flash and a rip, the red mist went through the man’s chest. His heart stopped thumping- it stopped working, as the red mist disappeared along with the man and his silent screams. Darkness once more- swirls of mist- nothing could be seen, through the clouds of death. “W-where am I?” Came a voice from below, below his feet, near the filth of the lake. A flick of the eye and no responding sound- only for the man to start screaming, his nightmares coming back once more. Splish- splash, the oar made against the black water; the mist moved away, tendrils reaching for the man , as if trying to hold onto his soul, his damned soul, the soul he wished he never would have had- the one he wished was alive but was now nothing but dead. “DEAD!” The man’s voice echoed, choking and screaming, whistling high in the air before dying once more just like he had with the red mist, but the red mist was gone.

Thud.

A jump, off went Kumorimaru, as the sounds of a waterfall suddenly came to ear. “Thou hast arrived at thine final destination, human. Pray that my Lord treats thou well.” A flip of the boat right above the waterfall, the soul fell to the darkest pits of Hell. Screams filled the air- screaming at the new arrival, but Kumorimaru was not finished with his work. A release of the boat, a new step forward, colors swirled and the woman appeared once more, her eyes transfixed with anger- an anger that looked like paper. Time elapsed again, his tattoos swaying as Kumorimaru moved, away from the woman- towards the woman. “Thank you! Thank you! Bless you, yokai of Jigoku! No! Lord of Jigoku!” Babble passed through the room, babble passed through Kumorimaru. His hand grabbed her forehead, his eyes as bare as the air itself. “For thine wish, I must taketh more than just 500 yen.” A whimper. Moans- womanly moans of pain and fear circled around the room, fixing itself into every crook, into every cranny. “No, no, no- I thought that 500 yen was all that was in the payment!” A laugh- a cold laugh, a predator-like laugh. “Thou hath been misinformed. I must take something more- and in this case, thou did not set the rules, did not inform me of mine reward. I taketh from thee-,” Loud screams, agonized tears, flew down to the ground, flew down to Enma Dai-O’s ears. “Thine memories of thy son, and-,” a crackle resounded through the room, the mark of one cursed appearing momentarily on the woman’s head, “thy sanity and thy soul.”

Thump the lady’s body sounded, hitting the floor of despair and vomit. Darkness once more enveloped the world, till the cat opened its eyes. The red eyes surveyed the humans around them, bustling, yelling, shouting. Cough.

“Xun- anyone want a beautiful Xun?”

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Time: Present

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Kumorimaru lounged in his room; a cherry blossom branch draped over his arm and a chrysanthemum in his other. The cat sat in his lap, purring loudly, it’s eyes closed and it’s conscious away in a dream. As he slowly stuck the cherry blossom branch into the vase that sat in front of him, Kumorimaru assessed the stones that kept the branch from deviating the calculated stance his hand gave it. A quick flick there and a quick snip there, Kumorimaru looked at his piece with much pride. The chrysanthemum was cut to the flower and stuck in the bottom, a symbol of Kumorimaru’s handiwork- a symbol that would raise the piece’s price to one very high.

“ "Off your asses, fools! Get over here! We finally got a prayer." A very amused look passed over Kumorimaru’s face as he got up from his seat in a hall. The hall was dim- but the voices were not so. Slow shuffling down the hall, slow shuffling down the stairs, Kumorimaru carried himself to the Shrine, his hands covered with the scent of flowers- and he, the smell of wind and death. Looking up at the words scrawled on the board- Such tattered handwriting, indeed- Kumorimaru chuckled, but not with glee. “It would seem that there is an interesting task ahead, does it not, Ankoku?” He asked, his eyes flickering to the younger demon along with the circles on his kimono. They flickered back and then flickered around, as if a whole new set of eyes- watching, sensing, warning. “I myself do not have much to do. Alas, the main box has been relatively empty, has it not?” A flashing smile, and then nothing more once more. “This task does sound interesting- I shall help, if I am allowed.”

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Time: Two Days Ago

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Leave me in peace.

The faint stir in the water roused the large form lying on the river bed, its large eyes opening as its head rose out of its sleeping position. Although the river no doubt surged with tides, the unfamiliar the dragon felt was not created by nature itself, but rather… Humans. That was enough for the dragon’s icy blue eyes to suddenly blaze with anger. Humans. How dare they tread upon my waters. It has surely been a long period of peace for Tsuki, the myth of the dragon tested the courage of many sailors that dared to even think about journeying into Tsuki-ko. But humans will be humans.

The dragon’s eyes flitted toward the direction of the unfamiliar stir, its body traveling swiftly through the surging waters of the river, toward the dark form that lingered on its surface. Out of my river. Its blue eyes lighted with anger, the calm surface of the river suddenly morphing, tides rose as the smooth surface was suddenly wrought with large raindrops forming from the clouds above. I’ll show you what happens when you play with storms. Yells and panicked voices rang from the dark shadow that was now identified as that of a ship as the temperature of the air above the water lowered, the mere change in atmosphere was able to alert the sailors to attention. The large eyes of the dragon narrowed with slight mischievousness. Tsuki didn’t want anything to do with humans, their existence nearly nonexistent to her outside of the river. However, when these humans decide to test their courage against the raging storms that wrought Tsuki-ko…

The large pieces of hail wrecked the river’s calm exterior, the once calm waters suddenly blazing with the spirit’s anger. Leave. The large ship, however, did not pause, its course unchanged against the raging storm. The spirit did not relieve its fury though, the dragon curling up its body against the river, its head rising to push at the ship. LEAVE. The sailors should have known better than to test the wrath of the spirit, the entire river bed shaking with the force of her anger as the hail storm worsened.

“Release the sails!” The voices above the waters were clear to the dragon, its ears perking up at the panicked yells of the humans that dared to disturb its waters. “Cap’n, the wind’s too strong! She’s going down, Cap’n!” Perhaps she was going too far, but Tsuki was determined to frighten those that believed their bravery was going to work against the stormy waters of the sacred river. “Dump the cargo! Keep her steady, boys.” The dragon’s eyes suddenly flickered with alarm as the waters were once again disturbed, but what floated down from the small shadow was even more disturbing. N-No… The sight sent a chill down her spine, the sudden tiny shimmering spots floating down toward the large mass of the dragon. The buckets of fish dumped straight back into the home in which they were taken from. No… The water was shimmering now, a silver shimmer, glowing from the icy scales of the dragon as its blue eyes blazed with anger that hasn’t been seen in years. The mass of glowing body shrunk by the second, twisting and turning as the body of silver light formed into a streak, the small streak of light maintained its glow at the bed of the river.

“How dare you…” The young woman’s icy voice rang throughout the waters, much like the sound of ice clanging against each other in a musical tone, but nothing of it suggested harmony. The light dimmed as the white kimono formed onto the girl’s body, untouched by the freezing waters that swirled around her. “How dare you taint my river…” The body of the girl drifted onto the surface of the water, her silver hair blowing in the blasting wind that seemed to howl with each passing second. “How dare you eat away at its life!” The icy fury of the dragon was reflected in Tsuki’s eyes, the white katana laying with adamancy across her hands, her fingers tightening around the hilt. “Cap’n… It’s a girl…” She could hardly care less for their shock, the anger mingling with the horror at her river’s destruction. “So the legends were true… The princess that guards the dragon. Hah! What irony! No signs of humor reflected in her cold posture as the silver blade emerged from behind the sheath of the katana. This was the bottom line. These humans were going to pay.

If only they knew the “princess” was the dragon.

Flash. Lightning streaked across the cloud-covered sky, as if splitting it in half. Thunder roared as it shook the grounds, the tides of the river suddenly bursting into a dance of fury. Screams were heard, then all was silent.

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Time: Present Times

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Won’t you all simply leave me in peace…?

“Off your asses, fools! Get over here! We finally got a prayer.” Obviously not, the dragon’s eyes opening with a slight hint of annoyance as the girl’s voice travelled through the shrine, the sound bouncing off of the surface of the river that lied beside it. The water stirred slightly with the rousing of the dragon, the icy blue much calmer than it had been two days ago, but also wrought with a sense of fatigue. What is the meaning of this… The icy scales morphed into the fabric of the kimono, the faint glow of it was heightened by the sun that hunt itself high in the clouds.

“Is there a need to yell?” The long sleeves of her kimono was pulled up slightly as she stepped out of the freezing waters of the river, pulling the bangs of her hair back out of her eyes to show the now calm blue of her irises. Her eyes did not show a hint of surprise as they flickered toward the Demon of Revenge, shaking her head in a slight hint of annoyance. However, curiosity overwhelmed her annoyance at being awoken from her sleep, her arms raising lazily in a small stretch as she walked forward, the movements slightly hesitant as she is still rather not comfortable with walking on land. “I myself do not have much to do. Alas, the main box has been relatively empty, has it not?” Her eyes flitted toward the demon whose presence she did not detect at first, following his gaze toward the words that now registered into her sight. “What in the name of the moon is this?” She was still relatively new to the Tsukiakari, not that she hasn’t been watching them silently from the waters for years, but truly she didn’t give too much of a care to what it was that they did. However, the words caught her attention, and a harsh look flashed across her face. Humans. She has had quite enough of humans these days, now holding no sense but distaste for these vile creatures. However, the words were what intrigued her, the events described was looked upon with a slight hint of interest in her eyes. “This task does sound interesting- I shall help, if I am allowed.” A faint smile rose on her lips before disappearing, the strange appearance of the demon not bothering her in the slightest as she turned her head away from the board. “My assistance will be provided.” Her voice was mellow, but it was also harsh, each word sharp like jagged pieces of ice. “Join me for tea, won’t you, Kumorimaru? Her tone did not tie her words together as a question, more or so like a demand. However, his manners were something she has at least taken a neutral stance, if not a hint of friendliness to.

This shall be an amusing ride.

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The world tilts; his head tilts, a wind blows, annoyance grows. “My deepest apologies. I have a bit of a...business meeting to attend to shortly. I hope you understand." Darkness- and then the figures come back to focus. Irritation flows, teaming in the air as death streamed from Kumorimaru. A shake of the head, a sigh from the mouth, another step backward for a better view. "Too bad. You'd be missing out on a mission, seeing as this place hardly gets any prayers, even in this time of war.. .Well, if this business meeting is really as important as you make it to be, do what you wish." Eyes flicker to and fro, distrust filled the air, from demon to human. “Thou,” He started, death filling the air. “Thou must learn that thy…” Colors dull down, spin around. “Thou must learn that thine attitude-“ The swish of cloth, a nonchalant look from Kumorimaru to Matsumodo. “-could earn thee thine death, human.” No more was the conversation, breath stilled and hearts pounding. His heart did not pound; a wind pounded against the doors.

Thump thump thump- A voice pierced through the wind- pierced through Kumorimaru’s fake heart. A twist, a turn, a white figure appeared ice cold- cold as ice. Frosted wind from the river, from the sky- no, from Tsukiko. His eyes flash, mirroring the coldness that flashed in hers. What had she said- the wind had blown too hard- what did she say? Tea? What tea? “Tea. Doth thou wisheth to have some tea?” Did she ask? No, no- colors swirled, a prayer appeared in Kumorimaru’s blank mind. “Drag my shop rival to Jigoku- oh demon! Drag him down!” A step, a thump. Nothing more. A shake of his head and the voice was no more. Foolish humans. He exclaimed, exclaimed in his head. Hath the race of humans fallen to a state- A figure in the doorstep, a drunken figure, falling over, falling towards the floor. Another step back, a jingle, a shake of the head; flowers fall to the ground, petals float to the ground. "Not drunk are you, Bayushi?" A shared glance with Tsukiko, a shake of the head.

Ankoku was gone. Revenge was gone- off to fetch its sword of death and anger. A wind blows- away with the drunken smell! A step forward back to corridor of darkness, a beckoning of the hand for the cold to follow. “Tea. Didst thou not want tea? Feet on the floor- cold, cold- slow paces leading towards a hidden room. Hidden in a corner right above the lake, right next to the lake. The slide of a shoji, the light steps on tatami floors- a soft gust of wind to blow flowers to the sides of the room, a beautiful path for a beautiful guest. Petals dance in the air as a pot flashes in the air then out of the room, into the cold waters of Tsuki-ko. “But is there time for tea, is there?” Swishes of color, his kimono patterns dance around before settling down, the question now spelled across the light fabric. Is there time for tea? Is there time for tea? Is- The pattern folds, a fire is struck, the pot placed not over the fire but on a drawer. “Doth thou wish to drink gyokuro? Sencha? Bancha? Matcha?”

Drawers opened, bags pulled out. Lined up on the ground, carried by a soft breeze. Another flick, another fold, two seats appear on the ground in place for the lady of the storm. “Or dost thou wish to drink Konacha? Hojicha? Genmaicha? Kocha? Or Oolongcha that hath come from China, the land of the Earth?” More bags of colors varying, fly into the air and down in front of the- was she there?- the lady. Cat cries, cat scratches, a sudden leap and bound onto Kumorimaru’s back did Hikaru do, sniffing his hair and licking his cheeks. A quick scratch under the chin, but Kumorimaru went back to his tea, his dearly prized tea. “Or Kocha? Sanpincha? Mugicha? Kombucha? Which doth thou wish to brew, fair Tsukiko, old friend of mine?” Big and small, colored with all colors, the small bags lined the ground. Fragrances filled the room; the pot still was held in Kumorimaru’s arms. His eyes shined, his smile faint and small- but another prayer hailed him once more, forcing colors to swirl once more and his skin to shed halfway. “Oh, youkai! O-,” A shake of his head- a jingle of a bell- Kumorimaru was back again. Hikaru glared at him with red eyes that changed back to black, claws sheathed, fangs hidden. Quickly, he was a flash as he sat on the ground, the chair creaking under the sudden force. “Which shall it be, hath thou made up thine mind?”

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Noisy. Noisy.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her fingers making soft motions on her temples as the chaos ensued. ”Good, we’ll be at a full-house in no time. That’ll make this a little easier, since it is, after all, a whole village of demons we’ll be taking care of.” Tsukiko gave a glance to Ankoku at her comment. It wasn’t common for spirits to meddle in such affairs, but even so… It will be the first major prayer that she has seen ever since she joined the group. While she was reserved about the violence this quest promised, it nonetheless promised something interesting for once. Sleeping in the river for hundreds of years to come becomes dull at times…

”Thou. Thou must learn that thy… Thou must learn that thine attitude could earn thee thine death, human.” An unfamiliar sound rang in the air, much like the sound of ice clanging against glass. The laughter that chimed out of Tsukiko’s throat was one that could be heard perhaps once every century, but at Kumorimaru’s comment to the human, the spirit couldn’t help herself, especially given the distaste she already had toward Kichirou. However, the sound was blown away by the wind within a split second, its evanescent nature made it seem as if it had not existed simply a moment ago.

”Not drunk are you, Bayushi?” A cold glance from her matched the glance in Kumorimaru’s eyes, and with a few steps backwards, they were off away from the noisy group. ”Tea. Doth thou wisheth to have some tea?” A slight nod from the spirit confirmed the question, but the two were already pacing toward the hidden room. ”Tea. Didst thou not want tea? This time, the question gained him no response from the young woman, her eyes lingering on the patterns the waves formed as the soft petals blew onto the reflecting surface of the river. Its usually chaotic waters now unnaturally placid. Unnaturally… Her icy blue eyes flickered over the surface of the water, and a wave of her hand was followed by a faint stir in the cold waters, which rose to meet her outstretched hand. However, within seconds, the water of the river fell back to its depth, and a darkened gaze flashed across her face. I’ve overstepped my boundaries.

”Mercy!” The sudden scream that flashed across her mind forced Tsukiko to hold up her hand against her ear, the phantom sound forcing a hint of anger to catch in her gaze. ”Mercy will not be shown to those who tread upon my waters.” A flash, then another. The phantom screams refusing to relent as the blue in her eyes appear to grow icier by the second.

”….Bancha? Matcha?” She had barely even noticed the words that suddenly spewed out of the demon’s mouth, nor did she notice the dark clouds that formed above the river at her moment’s distraction. ”Or dost thou wish to drink Konacha? Hojicha? Genmaicha? Kocha? Or Oolongcha that hath come from China, the land of the Earth?” Perhaps if Kumorimaru had heard the faint rumbling of an incoming storm, he would have ceased his words, but nonetheless, it continued on. ”Or Kocha? Sanpincha? Mugicha? Kombucha?” A breath of cold air, and the icy blue eyes flickered to meet his brown eyes, her gaze showing no sense of humor. ”Enough!” It wasn’t like her to raise her voice, but something about the monotonous words tested her patience. ”Which doth thou wish to brew, fair Tsukiko, old friend of mine?” Another sigh was heard, but not one of annoyance, instead one of exasperation. My mistake. The faint screams that rang in the back of her mind pushed her patience toward the edges of its limits, and the fatigue that has clung to her since her morning awakening did nothing to ease the bitterness that lingered in her words. It has been too long since she has pushed her powers, and the tranquil waters of Tsuki-ko reflected the spirit’s weakened state. ”Which shall it be, hath thou made up thine mind?”

A faint smile, one that reflected more hints of mock exasperation than sincerity played at the corner of her lips. "Apologies. Gracious host, Kumorimaru," Her voice softened slightly at his insistence, finding her fault in her uncalled for impatience, "Oolongcha will do nicely, thank you." Only then did her gaze flicker down to the katana that has been flickering with a faint silver glow by her kimono. What has gotten into me? Her steady hand was placed onto the katana, and the rumbling of thunder ceased above the river. "Perhaps this can be brought along the trip," Gentle hands, so different from the ones that held the katana at the humans two days ago, took the pot from the demon's arms. A faint swoosh of the kimono against the floor, and Tsukiko's light steps carried her out of the doorway, motioning with a nod of her head for Kumorimaru to follow.

There was a disturbance in the river, a slight one, but one that caught her eyes. The wave patterns that formed swallowed the flower petals into its depth. When was the last time I left Tsuki-ko? The river called out to her, promising the usual comfort its chilly waters brought. However, she turned her glance, away from its waters. The faint glow of her katana returned, the call of the river especially strong under the darkness of the gray clouds that surged to cover the sky. Hush Tsuki-ko... The river has never called so strongly to the spirit, and a faint silver glow flickered around her kimono as the dragon form struggled to force itself into appearance. A quick motion pushed the pot back into Kumorimaru's hands as she grasped onto her katana, her grip tight against the hilt. Why the disturbance...? There was something about this prayer that the river feared, and its call pushed Tsukiko's steps quicker into the vicinity of the shrine.

The storm is brewing... That, she knew for sure. But it wasn't her storm. Another one was promised, one much more dangerous to her. As her steps stopped, the silver katana made one last flash of silver, one that forced her eyes shut. Then all was silent. Why do you wish to stop me, Tsuki-ko? Her own river was pulling itself out of her control, calling her back to its comforting depths. Whatever that foreshadowed...

A storm is coming.