The forest was alive with whispers.

Aiko followed Ryou through the twisting, overgrown path, the damp earth soft beneath her hurried steps. The night air carried the scent of moss and distant rain, and the lantern Ryou carried cast flickering shadows against the gnarled trees. They had been traveling for hours, deeper into the forbidden woods, drawn by rumors of a rogue priestess who held knowledge of the Kyūbi’s lost lineage.

“She won’t welcome us,” Ryou warned, his voice quiet but firm. “She’s unpredictable. Dangerous.”

Aiko clutched the edge of her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “But she knows something about me. About what I am.”

Ryou didn’t argue, but Aiko caught the brief flicker of concern in his eyes before he turned away. He had been watching her differently since the fire at the riverbank, since the ghostly nine tails had flickered into existence behind her. She could feel the shift between them—the wariness, but also something else. Something unspoken, hanging in the air between them like a thread waiting to snap.

A twig snapped in the distance.

In an instant, Ryou had drawn his sword, stepping in front of Aiko, his stance sharp as a coiled spring. “We’re not alone.”

Aiko barely had time to react before the trees around them shuddered, and from the darkness stepped a woman draped in deep violet robes, her long, dark hair threaded with silver beads. Her gaze was piercing—violet eyes, almost glowing in the dim lantern light. A smirk played at her lips as she raised a delicate hand, two fingers pressing together in a silent incantation. The air around them tightened, thick with unseen force.

“Who are you,” the woman drawled, “to come seeking ghosts?”

Ryou did not lower his sword. “We need your help, Mei.”

The priestess tilted her head, amusement flashing across her face. “Oh? And here I thought the great Ryou preferred to work alone.” Her gaze flickered to Aiko, lingering. “Or is it the girl you’re worried about?”

Aiko straightened. “You know who I am.”

Mei exhaled, her smirk softening into something almost thoughtful. “I know what you are,” she corrected. “And I know the path you’re walking will swallow you whole if you don’t learn to control what’s inside you.”

Aiko’s pulse quickened. “Then teach me.”

Mei chuckled, circling them slowly, her robes trailing like shadows against the forest floor. “And what do I gain from this?”

Aiko hesitated, but Ryou answered before she could. “Protection,” he said. “The Onibane are hunting her.”

Mei’s amusement faded. “Then you’ve brought trouble straight to my doorstep.” She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I suppose I do have a soft spot for lost creatures.”

Aiko bristled at the wording, but before she could snap back, Mei placed a hand on her shoulder. The contact was fleeting, yet Aiko felt the surge of something—an energy, a connection. A whisper of power brushing against her own.

Mei’s expression turned serious. “I will teach you. But make no mistake, little fox—power like yours does not come without cost.”

Aiko swallowed hard, but she didn’t look away. “I’m ready.”

Mei smiled, slow and knowing. “We shall see.”

Beside her, Ryou exhaled, his grip easing on his sword, but his gaze never left Mei. Aiko wasn’t sure if it was distrust—or if, just like with her, he felt the undeniable pull of something more.

One thing was certain: the rogue priestess had changed everything.