Warm sun washed over my face as I lay awake contemplating the night before. Summer was always a problem for me, full of festivals and energy; it’d been no wonder I’d lost control. I should have known better. But, part of me was glad for it. I’d enjoyed the freedom, the warmth, and even the fear.

It had been many years since I had almost lost my soul like that, however I had been moving from battlefield to battlefield with Ryoichi for many years. There had been no time for something so grand. My soul had stayed rooted inside of me.

Instead, my heart had loosened. A pang, an ache; I couldn’t think about him now.

I pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away and yawned, stretching my limbs out and wiggling my neck, narrowly avoiding kicking someone in the head. I’d woken in a pile of snoring bodies, all revellers from the night before. I had no clue how I had arrived here, nor would I be able to find out as I planned to sneak away while they ate. I didn’t trust myself fully around them; I was barely holding onto my soul and one slip of the tongue could ruin it all.

Floating in the morning air came the sound of a koto, the melodic strings plucking a lonely song. Tears welled in my eyes and I felt the pressing need to find the one playing it. Who could be lamenting at such a time, with the sun shining and the day just beginning?

I lazily climbed up off the futon and rearranged my creased yukata, tucking it tighter into the obi. A clink of coins let me know my koban hadn’t been stolen, thankfully. I sniffed myself. The lingering smell of sweat permeated the fabric; I was close to begging for a wash before going anywhere. How could bodies begin to smell so fast?
Nobody stirred as I stepped over them to exit, feet planting between flailed arms and legs. I’d find clean clothes later, perhaps throw myself in the river on the way back. Through empty rooms and hallways, I followed the sound, peering round each corner hoping to find my mystery koto player.

“Ohayo,” came the sleepy good morning as a short man passed me.

“Ohayogozaimasu,” the upbeat maids called, ushering me from the kitchen I’d wandered into.

Sliding open another door, I found my way outside to a small courtyard. Under a plum tree, practising in sunbeams, knelt the koto player. Her eyes never moved from the wooden instrument, her deft fingers plucking the strings with experience.

I’d tried to play once before, lounging around in Ryoichi’s bedroom, watching him trying to master the strings. He had a terrible ear for melodies and the screeching of bad notes became unbearable at times, but now it brought a smile to my face. It was a memory I treasured, and didn’t deserve to keep.

I made my way towards her, kneeling to listen as the song progressed, the notes falling sadder and sadder. Tears stained my yukata as they fell into the fabric against my will, blossoming out like spilled ink. Slowly, the notes faded into a stop, leaving me tear-stained and empty.

“That was beautiful,” I breathed, wiping the last tears away with my sleeve.
Humans were incredible.

“I was hoping you would enjoy it, I played it for you.”

I froze. “For me?”

One finger on the koto string, she slid a screeching note. “Obake.”

Despite my fear I raised my eyes to hers hoping I’d misheard, but her eyes bore into mine, bypassing the flesh, reaching into my being. How does she know?

I forced a laugh. “Obake? Why are you calling for shapeshifters? I don’t—”

Smack!
Her palm hit my forehead, jolting my magical senses. Instantly, I could sense the magic around me. She was surrounded in it. Black tendrils emanated from her small body, unlike the magic which surrounded humans. Their magic swirled in purples, deepening to black only when concentrated. The hairs on my neck stood on end.

I hadn’t felt this before.

I shoved her arm away and scrambled to my feet.

“I can sense you, like all yokai,” she called, watching me carefully. “So which are you? Kitsune? Bakeneko? You feel like a cat spirit, but I see no tail.”

Me, a cat spirit? I tamped down my anger. How dare she compare me to such things. I was much more than that.

A smirk formed as she stood there in the golden light, short black hair held back by a sakura-adorned clip, her kimono similarly patterned. There was nothing dangerous about her looks at all, and yet every sense was screaming at me to run.

“You have nothing to fear from me. I am here to help you.”

“Didn’t you know, calling for yokai is bad luck,” I said, trying to restrain a hiss.

Kneeling, her fingers returned to the strings, a hastily-plucked tune, and my chest surged, pulling me closer to the koto. I gritted my teeth as my feet stepped closer, betraying me once again.

“Your soul is loose,” she said, looking me up and down. “A bad weakness. I saw you last night too; the lights grew brighter around you, the calls louder. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have woken up in safety.” Her fingers moved from the koto and settled in her lap. “See, I won’t use this now. You may leave if you wish, or you can listen to me.”

Free from her spell, I hastily turned my back on her, hurrying out of the courtyard before she could call me back. How dare she use such magic on me, to say such things. I didn’t believe a word, couldn’t believe it. No person could have such power.

Unless she wasn’t human.

She wasn’t a god, at least, for she didn’t know my true form. I could never hide that from the gods.

Rushing back through the hallways finding the main door, I dodged the newly awoken people, never looking back, instead heading on and on. I need to keep going. Always forwards.

There was never anything for me looking back. I learnt that the hard way.

The streets were mostly empty in the morning sun. Remnants of the festival still lingered and the people cleaning were full of life. I half-expected more calls of dokkoisho to ring in the air. At first, I’d thought this place relaxing, with its festival air and the happiness of its people, but it had been a false sense of security. It always was. It had clouded my mind and made me weak.
I couldn’t risk going back to the ryokan, wondering how much I’d been watched all this time. I would have to leave my belongings behind for now. Staying around humans was still risky, especially if there were more like her out there. But where could I go?

My mind turned to the shrine, quiet and unused. If I could slip into the forest, I might be able to stay hidden and figure out a better plan. It would have to do for now. I would beg the gods for protection if it came to it.

I was fairly confident finding my way around the town. I had only been here for a few days, but after you visited so many towns, they began to feel the same. Even the shrines looked similar, tucked away in secluded areas. They felt different, however, and I could tell which gods had visited each shrine. I had to open my magical sense to see the marks left behind by their presence. Tsukuyomi’s was obvious to me now, a cold white magic hanging around in wisps. Amaterasu’s was the opposite, a golden aura which enveloped the whole shrine.

The surrounding trees were as tall and imposing as last time, and I pleaded under my breath for them to let me past this time. I hurried out of sight, rushing along the stone path, careful to avoid the water. Unlike last time, my magical sense was open, my forehead still tingling from the attack earlier. I scanned around for any tell-tale signs of gods—the splash of even the tiniest colour. And yet, nothing. No magic of theirs remained to stain the air.

My stomach twisted in worry. Even in the overgrown abandoned shrines deep in the country, signs of the gods still lingered, brought to life by prayer. This was the first time I’d found one clear of anything.

Running up the steps, I stopped at the torii gate and pressed my hand to it. There was still a kind of magic here, I could feel the change from mortal to gods’ realm.

“They won’t come here,” a voice said from behind me. I spun to find the koto player watching me. “You might be in their realm, but they don’t want to listen. Not after what you’ve done.”

How did she sneak up on me?

I let go of the torii gate and continued up the steps. I wasn’t going anywhere near her. Instead, I’d have to try to contact the gods.

“Wait.” Her steps were hurried as she followed. “I’m sorry, I was too excited. I’ve only ever met small yokai before. I truly don’t mean to hurt you. My name is Ayane.”

I ignored her and kept going, each footstep heavier than the last. She could say whatever she liked. I was not going to trust her. Her words, however, were concerning. They don’t want to listen. To me, or everyone? At the top of the steps, I stopped. What if she knows more?

“Why?”

“Why?” Ayane paused a few steps from the top and shrugged. “Gods can be fickle. Even the smallest thing can set them off. But for you—” She walked closer to me with an intense stare. “You killed so many, plenty of their favourites. I don’t even need to be told. Your soul reeks of it. You’ve visited all the shrines in this area trying to contact them. None of them have listened, but they know you’ve been calling. Why should they help you?”

“How—”

Ayane smiled and ran off to the haiden, stopping at the donation box to pray. I glanced around the area sensing for any magic, or any indication the gods were listening to her. But again, silence.

Before I could move, my blood ran cold. Bright light submerged the shrine, leaving me breathless and vulnerable. The power washed over me: overwhelming, powerful, nothing like I’d felt before. I couldn’t resist the feeling tearing at my soul. Looser and looser still. I flailed, trying to hold on to even the thread of something to keep me grounded.

And then it was over.