Chapter Text
Plink! It told a story. Plink! One of an early morning shower. Another water droplet rolled off the pinewood leaves and into the puddle beneath. Plink! The sound engulfed the surrounding forest, only being interrupted by the croaking of the toads and birds chirping louder than usual; irked by the wetness and cold.
They've been news that demons were lurking around this area, as two weeks straight people have gone missing, only to find their mutilated bodies later in the morning. Oddly enough, they have been only women, but Sanemi wasn't surprised by this fact as he knew how twisted these things could be. Going around, picking and refusing, then devouring people like selective shoppers. He had tried to ask some villagers for more information about these women that have died, to create a plan of some sort, but might as well he had talked to his shadows. Their words were elusive as they talked in riddles: "They refused the norm of society and so the gods are punishing them." While others were tight lips on the matter only giving him petrified looks.
Though, he believed, some of their response might have been owed to his appearance, even though he had tried this time to be a bit more inconspicuous on behalf of Oyakata-sama orders. Since he exchanged his standard get-up for hakama pants and a plain loose kimono shirt and his sword wrapped in a parcel of cloth, secured by a ribbon given to him by Kanae. Yet, Sanemi is frustrated as he felt like it was all for nothing. Nonetheless, he continued over to the next village another 2 ri away, as he had heard the attacks have now spread there.
Even though it was in the middle of the day the sun hardly penetrates the ground due to the thick canopies of trees and even thicker fog. What should he expect from a mountainous village such as this? It was also the reason he was so weary as the demon or rather demons, were still capable of attacking even though it was the high time of day.
This was also the reason he quickly grabbed at his sword that was slung over his back, lips drawn into a tight line while his eyes quickly scanned the area. He had heard footsteps. It wasn't one of the villagers, as it was much too silent, soft, careful even. And from what he could decipher it was in front of him, going deeper into the forest, to where the village was!
Without any delay, he ran towards the sound, his sword hilt out, ready to attack! However, just as he turned the corner he halted. His heart that was beating, powered by adrenaline, had now slowed its pace and if he was, to be honest, Sanemi was highly disappointed. After two days of travelling and not a single demon encounter, he was on the fray of his sanity, he needed something to let his blood pumping and all his ohagi had already run out.
There, standing in front of him was a woman, dressed in a purple-orange kimono with flowers printed pattern. She turned around slowly, like a scene from a stage play, and if it was so, the whispering of the leaves was the soft music that played in the background. From what he could see of her hair — as it was cover by a tengui with cherry design— secured by a pin at back (while one end of the tip sat in her blood-stained lips and the other hang loosely) —it was of the traditional style. Not like the ones inspired by the west, the ones which every Moga girl wore in the cities. Her kimono collar hugged her shoulders, which gave view to her rice-powder dusted neck and ear lobes. Along with the delicate swelling of her chest which dared him to just tilt his eyes a bit more, into the sweeping valley. Furthermore, down into where her skin was slowly turning into lovely pink, where...
The chaotic condition of her clothes: the disturbed obi, sleeves hanging way too low, and kimono brushing the mucky forest floors; was whispering stories to him. Stories such as men's hands in a rush powered by lust and hormones, pulling it apart and she too tired, or rather, finding it suggestive to fix it back. No, his earlier speculation was far from wrong, she was no demon or a woman. His eyes stared at the rolled mat in her arms, no, these were all tell-tale signs of a prostitute.
As if she was seeing what was running over his mind, she gave him a smile, which made him stop and slightly warm. It almost took him all he got to not be lured by the alluring whispers that come from the dark crevices of his mind. To not fall into the dark hole, despite how tempting it was. After all, when was the last time anything made him so riled up, so excited even? He twitched at the thought before he told himself, almost shouting, that he was on a mission, to slay a demon. He had no time to satisfy his near-starved sexual appetite.
So, he began to walk, ignoring how she smells like morning dew and how her lips dipped slightly as he passed her by without even a second look. Sanemi believed it was over and he heard himself saying over in his mind like a mantra that when this was done, he would visit Yoshiwara. However, he heard her geta scrapping on the forest floor behind him, the smell of dew even stronger. He knew if he turned himself around, she would just be right below his nose, so he continued.
The forest seemed more awake than ever, yet, if he allowed himself to pause, he would able to name the soft sound of the water droplet falling, plink!... Then she decided to speak, interrupting his tranquillity.
"Hello?"
Her voice was light and reminded him of the tone of Kanae, soft and kind, similar to his mother's. He hated it. Yet, her voice played with the hair at the back of his neck, as it promised him a moonlight tryst in the thickness of the canopies. Nonetheless, he stood fast, hoping that if he continued to ignore her, she would lose interest and leave.
Shortly after he came upon a rope bridge with a marker beside it, it told him the village was just up ahead. In the middle of the bridge, he passed a waterfall that deaf every other sound of the forest while also spraying him with some water.
"Ahh, so cold, aren't you cold Mister?" From his peripheral view, he watched how she lifted her arms as if hoping to catch the falling droplets in her hanging sleeves and as if she had sensed him staring, she turned her eyes to him. He quickly faced ahead, not before catching a glimpse of how her darks eyes glistened.
Fool! He had given her just what she wanted. Soon there was no space between them as she had quickly closed the gap by pressing her cheeks into his back, which led him to suddenly stop. "You're so warm," she confessed and without thinking he found himself grabbing her arm.
She yelped in response as he twisted it around, eyes ablaze. This needed to stop, he was already frustrated enough that he had spent two days searching for a demon that had yet to present itself, and now this! Before Sanemi could tell her that he was not interested and that she should get lost. She said: "You're really strong Mister, just how I like it. I am Otsuka Haruko, but you can call me Ha-chan." She almost purred the last words. Her eyes gotten hazy and her lips pouted before she leaned herself forward as though she wanted to press her face against his chest.
Sanemi almost let her do so as his mind replayed how comforting her warmth was to his back, however, just a brush of her lashes away, the mission rang in his ears and he gave her his back. He could hear her sigh and he let himself imagined how she looked, with knitted eyebrows and her painted lips pushed out. He believed that now, after that fiasco she would lose hope. Still, she trailed after him.
"What are you doing here Mister?" From the corner of his eyes, he watched how she walked crisscross in the path, jovial, like a child accompanying their parents to work. She stopped now and then to look at the falling leaves or the birds that flew overhead. So, content lost in her own world. He was going to ignore her, however, he found himself saying, "I live here."
He thought, perhaps, if he was to partake in her conversation and found out how painstakingly boring he was she would leave. His current silent demeanour, it seems, had mistakenly painted him as a very interesting maverick traveller and she so badly wanted to unravel every mystery he kept hidden. A minute passed and Sanemi believed she had missed his earlier statement or that she had already gotten bored and have decided to take her leave. That was until he heard her say, "Liar, you do not. After all, I know every man here and I certainly. Don't. Know. You." She sang the last part as she starts a silly game of Ken-ken-pa, at pa she launched herself at him. Burying her face, yet again, in his back, arms wrapped comfortably around him.
He saw the dark hole, it was tempting him just to give in, to tip over a bit farther, he didn't have to do much, gravity would do the rest, pulling him in. He bit his lips before taking a deep breath. He hated feeling this way, feeling vulnerable. He wished that he could deal with this problem like his any of his earlier one, with his fist. However, as he turned around examining how she rubbed her nose against the fabric of his clothes he knew he couldn't. For the first time, in a long while, he was lost about what to do.
"You're right, I am not from here," he pried her arms off before breaking into a speed walk, yet she managed to keep up. "Told ya, I'm quite intuitive!"
Sanemi wanted to shout at her, probably slashed his sword through a tree or several trees at that matter. If she was so intuitive, why couldn't she sense that she was being a hindrance to him? But, again, when he turned to her with acid in his veins he was led to a standstill as he watched how she tugged her kimono collar down further. Before he could make sense of the situation — without any meaning to it — he said, shouting actually, "I'm not interested!"
Silence. Then laughter, a kind that reminds him of water bubbling down stones that carpet the river floor, gliding and flowing, uncaring. In a matter of time, he found her just below his nose playing with her sleeves peering through her lashes. "Really now?"
She tipped on her toes as she brushed her lashes against his cheeks. "But I don't have any money." The words were on the tip of his tongue but he bites it, which brewed a metallic taste before he swallowed it down. With another long breath, he ever so carefully pushed her off. He noticed how she was fighting against his hold but he tightens his grip gaining a slight squeak in the process. Sanemi then opened his eyes and from his reflection in her dark ones he saw how crazy he looked with veins popping on his face, eyes sick of sin even the devil would turn his face from. Yet, he managed to keep his voice low, soft, polite even. "I. Am. Not. Fucking. Interested. Get. Lost."
He didn't give her a backward glance as he began to walk. He already knew the outcome. Sanemi remembered how her face contoured reminding him of the one Genya made on that day when he hacked his, their, mother into pieces before crumbling into nothingness under the morning sun.
Before long he entered the village and she, Haruko, long gone. It was not until when the sun was dipping behind the trees (after failing to get any vital information from the villagers) that it suddenly hit him that she was a woman, exactly what the demon was devouring. With that, he sprinted into the forest ignoring the villagers' heralds. As she was out there, alone, and if she was to die, it was all on him.