~~~


    Following a stream of blood up the steps and into the ryokan, a bold mosquito buzzed aimlessly around the ceiling beams then, when it was certain there was no trap, made a spiral dive towards the leg of the nearest corpse.


    Amazed at its own good fortune, the little pest gorged briefly on the all-you-can-eat-leftovers before spying a fresher leg and shifting there, its small body [and wings] in blood heaven…before being crushed, out of nowhere, by a descending God hand.


    ‘Wake up,’ said Aya, wiping the mosquito stain on her yukata and then leaning down to shake Miho.


    ‘Garrrr…’ came from his lips and little else.


    ‘Not garrrr, open your eyes, you lazy-…’


    ‘How long?’ said another, deeper voice, prompting her to spin round and point the katana she’d taken from one of the dead samurai at the new arrival.


    Wah escaped from the thin line gap between her frozen lips.


    ‘Yeah, wah to you too.’ Akira looked briefly at the tip of the blade about a metre from his face then continued rubbing his wrist.


    ‘You’re alive,’ Aya muttered, lowering the sword a little.


    ‘What time is it?’


    ‘…and they’re all dead.’


    Finishing with the wrist massage, Akira used his good hand to pull himself up onto his feet, grabbed his green-stained katana and surveyed the scene. Just as he remembered, everyone dead. Apart from him. Somehow.


    ‘…fourteen of them, watch out, knives,’ rambled Miho suddenly, his whole body shooting up and scaring Aya so much that she clipped the side of his forearm with her blade.


    ‘Wah!’ she yelled, dropping the katana, rushing forward to the wound.


    ‘What the…’ mumbled Miho, dabbing the tiny line of blood with his finger.


    ‘Are you okay? I didn’t mean to-…you scared me, thought you were half dead. Kuso. Does it hurt?’


    Miho closed his eyes, swayed a little, then let the light back in and looked up. Akira was staring down at him, head tilted either in disapproval or bafflement.


    ‘How the hell did you survive that?’ he asked.


    ‘The fight?’


    ‘Thought for sure you got stabbed.’


    ‘No. Just fell over…I think.’ Miho checked the rest of his yukata for damage, finding only a few tears and zygote holes. ‘Not stabbed.’


    ‘Survive what?’ shouted Aya, ripping a bit of cloth from a nearby cleaning rag and tying it round Miho’s cut. ‘What happened down here? Where’s Himiko?’


    Akira swatted away the questions and moved towards the nearest corpse, Bending down, he rummaged through the man’s dōbuku, then his yukata underneath, and came back out with a small bag of coins.


    ‘Magical,’ he said, spilling them out onto the floor. ‘Enough here to get half a cup of flavoured water.’


    ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ asked Aya, standing up, the cleaning rag still in her hand.


    ‘Spoils of war.’


    ‘What? There’s only four of them…’


    ‘War. Skirmish. Survival.’ Akira put the coins back in the small bag and carried on to the next corpse. ‘Judging by your face, and the lack of vomit, I reckon these are not the first dead bodies you’ve seen.’


    Aya gripped the cleaning rag tight and watched as Akira went through the pockets of the dead samurai who’d complimented him the previous night.


    ‘It’s okay, he didn’t start it,’ said Miho, using the table as leverage to pull himself up next to her. ‘They came in, attacked us. Said Akira was a dead man for…some reason. I can’t remember exactly.’


    ‘For being a thief?’


    ‘Watch your words, little one,’ said Akira, already onto the next corpse.


    Aya tightened the cleaning rag in her hand, glancing down at the katana she’d dropped. Kuso. Why wasn’t she holding that?


    ‘No, no…it really wasn’t his fault,’ continued Miho. ‘There was a demon in that luxury room, it tried to kill us. Tried to eat my cheek. He was just protecting himself.’


    ‘By killing all four of them?’


    ‘I…can’t remember. There was one he slashed in the stomach…after that…I’m not sure.’


    ‘Actually, the last two dropped of their own accord,’ said Akira, taking a silver ring off the third samurai. ‘Just passed out on the spot. Very strange.’


    ‘You didn’t kill them?’


    ‘Same thing happened to me too, I guess. No, I did. Managed to stab them before I faded out. Luckily for us.’


    ‘But…’ Miho stammered, running his still slightly blurred vision over the four corpses, the last of which - the one with the yellow-patterned dōbuku - was now being defiled by Akira’s busy hands. Or his busy left hand. ‘They were knocked out already…’


    ‘Yes, my favourite type of opponent. Second favourite, drunkards.’


    Another but formed on Miho’s lips, but it didn’t get any further than that as Aya pulled on his yukata sleeve and asked again where Himiko was.


    ‘Err…the ryokan owner?’


    ‘Wah, how hard did you get hit? Yes, Himiko. Our boss. The woman who’s going to kill all of us for this mess.’


    ‘I doubt that,’ said Akira, rising back to his feet with a long strip of belt cord, and then spitting on the samurai who’d just donated it.


    ‘What do you mean? Where is she?’


    ‘Scattered about.’


    Aya backed up into Miho, dropping the rag and gripping both his sleeves. ‘He killed her too?’ she asked, as hushed as she could make it.


    ‘Err…not exactly. It’s quite hard to explain.’


    ‘Forget about that traitorous nut, she’s gone,’ continued Akira, stretching out the cord, nodding at its length. ‘The most important thing now is finding the coins she tucked away. And then getting the fuck out of here before more competent samurai arrive.’


    ‘Gone where?’


    ‘Though…if back-up hasn’t arrived yet…that probably means there was no auxiliary support. In which case…a day for their absence to become suspicious, less if it was an urgent mission, half a day to send more men.’ Akira clapped his hands together, wincing in pain as his right wrist folded a little. ‘I believe, girls and boys, we might just have time for some light breakfast.’


    ‘Miho, where has she gone?’ Aya asked again, her eyes alternating between Miho and Akira.


    ‘I told you…it’s hard to explain.’


    ‘Try.’


    ‘She…was in the cabin up there…and there was a swirling light circle thing…and she tried to go through, like the green demon guy did, but…’


    Akira laughed, ripping the case off one of the larger futon sofa cushions. ‘Fuck explanations, just show her. The arm should still be up there, if my memory’s working right.’


    ‘Her what?’


    ‘Or a fairly large piece of it.’


    Aya turned to Miho, her head swaying. ‘What is he talking about?’


    ‘Err…’


    ‘Just go up there, show her.’ Akira threw the samurai belt cord on the table then sat down and started folding the cushion case. ‘Give me some peace while I fix this splint on.’


    ‘Show me what?’ asked Aya, watching Akira do his nurse impression.


    ‘Go, go. Quickly. Stop gawping.’


    ‘To where?’Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ~~~


    A short while later, Miho stood pointing like one of those lunatic forest prophets at a chunk of cave wall, the same spot where the red spider lily, and most of Himiko, had evaporated right in front of their eyes.


    ‘That’s where she vanished,’ he said, turning back to Aya, hoping his facial expression was as sincere as his brain claimed.


    ‘Vanished…’


    ‘Yeah. Sort of.’


    ‘That ashigaru thug said her arm was here…’


    ‘Err…bits of it. Maybe.’


    Aya touched her own forearm, the puzzle clearly being pieced together internally without the need for what or huh or you mean it disintegrated?


    ‘I’m not sure, really. It all happened really fast. I ran in and…the red spiral light thing was already closing. Then Himiko just…went with it…vanished.’


    ‘What was it…this red light thing?’


    ‘No idea. It just…sort of functioned like…a door or something…or a tunnel leading somewhere.’


    ‘How did it open?’


    ‘I don’t know. It just-…’ Miho stepped forward and placed his palm flat on the wall face. ‘It was right here…swirling.’


    ‘A red light door thing?’


    Miho opened his mouth to say yeah, but was interrupted by a sudden rush of wind through the cave tunnel, followed swiftly by a vibration on the cave rock.


    He drew his hand back, accidentally clipping Aya on her hip, and then stumbled back a few more steps as the cave wall morphed once more into a red spiral, spider lily, light thing.


    ‘What did you do?’ asked Miho to Aya’s hand gripping his wrist.


    ‘Me? You touched it…’


    The spiral tripled in size, growing out from the cave wall while also pushing visibly inwards the other way…like a tunnel to somewhere. Vibrant, chaotic noise swirled around it, like wind mixed with static and intermittent panpipe melodies, and something about this sound soothed Miho and loosened his limbs and started to reel him in, silently promising him serenity and boxes of wondrous things he would be unable to comprehend and


    it was so relaxing


    so gentle


    that he gave himself over completely


    legs shuffling forward towards the reddish light


    eyes squinting at what looked like pale red orbs floating on passageway walls on the other side of the-


    ‘Back…’ shouted Aya, yanking his yukata sleeve so hard that they both tumbled downwards onto the cave floor.


    ‘Where…’ muttered Miho, running his fingernails through the dirt then turning back to the light.


    It was half the size of its siren form now


    then a quarter


    then nothing more than a particle of air-dust as the red swirls dissipated into nothingness and the cave wall returned to its stable, quotidian state.


    ‘It was calling to me…’ mumbled Miho, pulling himself up into a sitting position and reaching out towards the wall with one hand, yet, at the same time, allowing Aya’s hand to hold him back by the yukata sleeve.


    ‘Occult magic,’ she whispered, then repeated the same thing louder.


    ‘That was it. The thing that pulled in Himiko.’


    ‘Right next to the ryokan, all this time.’


    ‘I think it must be a door…of some kind.’


    ‘A curse more like.’ She shivered, her hand letting go off Miho’s yukata. ‘I can’t stay anymore. Not with this here.’


    Miho looked at her, the tear running down her rigidly determined face. Part of him thought of saying, let’s try to open it again, see if we can pass through, but another part, the one who’d been swindled by the belt merchant, slapped him hard and screamed, are you out of your fucking village idiot mind?


    The slapping part was probably right, it had sucked in Himiko, dismantled her, and there was a fair chance it was built to do that, to tempt in new flesh, like the voice he felt calling to him, soothing him enough to get him to the light.


    A tactic that would’ve worked if Aya hadn’t been there.


    ‘Are you coming or not?’ she asked, already a few steps down the tunnel, her fingers resting on one of the green mineral fragments.


    He stared back at her, vaguely nodding.


    ‘Is that a yes?’


    ‘Yes. Coming.’


    ‘Good.’


    ~~~


    Back in the ryokan, Akira was deep in detective mode.


    Perched on the edge of the futon sofa near the front window, a cup of green tea in his freshly splinted hand, he scanned the reception area, going over every single piece of decoration and furniture.


    The paintings had seemed like the obvious choices, but he’d pulled them all apart and ripped up the rice paper canvases and…nothing.


    Not even a note to say ha, wrong place.


    Next guess was the floorboards, but they were pinned down too tight to lift up with any kind of regularity.


    Of course, the ryokan funds could be somewhere else entirely…in which case, he was just wasting his time.


    The follow-up batch of Shingen samurai would be there the next morning, at the earliest, and it would take more than a day to do a complete search.


    No, more than that, probably a whole week.


    He drank some of his tea, cursing himself for not getting to know Himiko better before her disintegration act. That way he would’ve had some clues to go on at least.


    Outside, there were footsteps on the wooden welcome steps, and he had just enough time to take his feet off the table before Aya and Miho came traipsing back in, both looking like they’d just seen a naked pensioner.


    ‘Convincing trip?’ he asked, after dismissing the more generic what happened?


    ‘It appeared again,’ said Miho, stopping at the entrance and resting one hand on top of the okiandon. ‘The red light thing.’


    ‘Wah…how?’


    ‘Don’t know. I just touched the wall and…it appeared.’


    ‘Well…that’s something.’ Akira took another sip of tea, flinching in surprise as Aya sat down next to him. ‘Though, on the business side of things…a ryokan with a secret light tunnel…could be a real winner.’


    ‘I’m not staying,’ Aya muttered, tugging at the sleeve of her staff-issue yukata.


    ‘That unsettling, huh?’


    ‘Yeah, and creepy too,’ replied Miho, toying with the rim of the okiandon. ‘There was this voice in my head, calling me to go in…and I would’ve done, if Aya hadn’t dragged me back.’


    ‘Maybe it heard about your belt merchant adventure?’


    ‘Yeah…sorry, what?’


    ‘Or maybe it’s that green fucker who tried to eat your head, lurking on the other side, trying to get back in. Who knows? Bigger point is, we’re all getting out of here, right now.’


    ‘I’m going alone,’ said Aya, more to her yukata than the others.


    ‘Sure, if you want to get raped and murdered by bandits, good idea. Luckily, you’re quite cute in a sullen pet kind of way, and I owe this gormless lunatic my life so…gang of three it is.’


    ‘I think I prefer the bandits.’


    Akira smiled, then turned it into a full-throated laugh that made him spill the remains of his tea. ‘Kuso…I was looking forward to drinking that.’


    ‘You can come with me,’ said Miho, digging his fingernail into the wood of the okiandon. ‘I’m heading north through Shinano.’


    ‘Don’t be a peasant,’ cut in Akira, standing up and putting his dōbuku back on. ‘The two of you together wouldn’t last an hour.’


    ‘Okay,’ replied Aya, moving her head left so she could give a small supplementary nod to Miho.


    ‘Really?’


    ‘No,’ barked Akira, startling Miho so much that his hand slipped, knocking the okiandon over on its side and making its refill drawer slide out.


    ‘Wait-…’


    ‘Is that-…’


    ‘Right next to the front fucking door.’ Akira bent down next to the drawer and picked up the small box that had spilled out. Shook it and smiled at the resulting sound of clinking coins. ‘Himiko, you little tease…’


    ‘You can’t take that,’ said Aya, edging over from the futon sofa.


    ‘Don’t worry, I’ll leave you the box.’


    ‘It’s not yours.’


    ‘Yet here it is in my hands. Sure you don’t want to come with me?’


    ‘She’s right,’ said Miho, crouching down a little too close to Akira and instantly getting a reflex hand on his throat.


    ‘Don’t do that.’


    ‘What…’ stuttered Miho, trying to get Akira’s claw-like hand off.


    ‘Sudden movements.’


    ‘I didn’t-…’


    ‘Get off him, dog,’ said Aya, picking up a katana next to one of the dead samurai.


    Akira glanced over, making a tutting sound, then awkwardly pulled his yukata open with his sling hand. ‘Think you can hit an organ?’


    ‘I mean it.’


    Akira smiled and looked down at his chest. ‘Lungs or stomach if you really want me to suffer.’


    ‘Let him go.’


    ‘But you’re gonna have to hold the blade up a bit first.’


    Aya heard the words, and instantly corrected her pose. Then took a step forward.


    ‘Okay, okay…on the off chance you’re that petty…’


    The smile faded and the ashigaru looked back at Miho, told him to move more carefully in future then let go. And added a little consolation pat on the shoulder.


    ‘Wah…my throat…’


    ‘You okay, Miho?’


    ‘He’s fine,’ grunted Akira, shaking the box drawer. ‘Barely even touched him.’


    ‘What happened…to owing me…your life?’


    ‘Exactly.’


    ‘Huh?’


    Akira didn’t bother responding, he was too busy yanking open the box.


    ‘Can’t trust ashigaru,’ said Aya, finally lowering the blade. ‘All they care about is themselves. And money.’


    ‘Akira...’


    The ashigaru repeated money under his breath and stared blankly at the contents of the box. He stayed that way for almost a full minute before picking up the box and throwing it across the lobby floor.


    Several pieces of what looked like scrap metal spilled out, making Aya frown and drop the katana back down on to the corpse.


    ‘Fucking done with this place,’ said Akira, striding over to the main desk and picking up a bag, then coming back for his green katana. ‘Scam money, scam ryokan, scam owners, scam…everything. Last chance to come with me if you’re going.’


    ‘Serious? You just tried to strangle Miho.’


    ‘Simple misunderstanding. And nothing compared to what the bandits will do if they get hold of you.’


    ‘I’m not scared of them.’


    ‘Only because they’re not standing here right now. Wait until night falls and you don’t know where the hell you are.’


    ‘We’ll hide from them.’


    ‘Yeah, how?’


    ‘In the forest.’


    ‘Stealth camping? Without a fire, you’ll freeze. Or get eaten by a bear.’


    ‘Then we’ll stay in the next town we come to. Fujimi.’


    ‘With what money?’


    ‘Savings.’


    ‘How much you got?’


    ‘Enough.’


    Akira walked over to the entrance, stopping next to Miho. ‘She speak for you too?’


    ‘I suppose…’


    ‘Really? You’re choosing a pretty face over guaranteed protection?’


    Miho looked down at the mess that was the okiandon and mumbled an apologetic yes.


    ‘Ah, useless…the both of you.’


    Slinging the bag over his shoulder, and then shifting it back down to his left hand when it felt uncomfortable, Akira kicked the door with his foot and headed out.


    A chicken made a clucking noise in the courtyard and was quickly silenced. Then other chickens launched into a chorus and were told to go drown in the fucking river.


    Exchanging glances, Aya moved over to Miho and helped him pick up the okiandon.


    ‘He’s exaggerating…’ she said, touching his wrist.


    ‘If we take the main road, it should be okay.’


    ‘Exactly.’


    ‘And there are still two of us.’


    ‘With katanas.’


    Miho nodded, looking at the nearest blade and the four corpses dotted around with dried-up stab wounds.


    ‘Do you know how to use one?’


    ‘Err…point and stab?’


    ‘That’s about my level too.’


    She let out a tiny laugh and he mimicked it.


    Outside, the chickens started clucking again as a shadow blocked out the doorway and a slightly irritated voice said, ‘I’m not joking about those bandits, you will not survive them…’


    ‘You’re still here?’ asked Miho, squinting at the shape of Akira.


    ‘…and you’re picking up that okiandon, for some unknown reason. Come on, get your stuff, if you have any. We’re leaving.’


    ‘We’re going alone, not-…’ started Aya, but was checked by a raised finger.


    ‘No debate.’


    ‘…with you.’


    ‘Miho’s bodyguard has spoken. And as you’re clinging to his arm, you fall under the same umbrella. Unless you wander off too far, then you’re on your own.’


    Aya looked at Miho and then at the four corpses. Then at the ryokan that was ostensibly her home. Then at the corpses again.


    ‘He is a good fighter,’ said Miho, putting his hand on hers.


    ‘Cunning,’ corrected Akira, tapping the doorframe.


    ‘And I have saved his life twice.’


    ‘You think that means anything to him?’ whispered Aya, pulling her hand gently away.


    Miho looked at his now lonely fingers, and ran through several different versions of I don’t know. Finally, he settled for something a little more positive, perhaps undeserved. ‘I think so. Yes.’


    ‘Look, are you going to let me save your lives or not?’ shouted Akira from the doorway.


    ‘Fine,’ said Aya, standing up. ‘We’ll go with you as far as Fujimi.’


    ‘A sensible choice. Bags?’


    Miho stood up, looking over at the entrance to the cabins.


    ‘You’ve got five minutes. Both of you.’ Another clucking noise from outside, making Akira flinch. ‘I’ll be outside kicking that chicken.’


    ‘Don’t…’ said Aya, moving to the doorway.


    ‘Kicking, not killing.’


    ‘It’s Himiko’s pet. Not livestock.


    Akira rested his good arm on his cushion case splint, breathing out loud. ‘Okay. I’ll be outside cradling that chicken. Better?’