The Last Night
65 4 6
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Kohaku paced over Masami’s still body. They’d managed to convince the guards to let them bring her into the tea shop on the corner instead of the barracks. Now, they waited. There wasn’t much else to do. The guards had already questioned them and Toshiro, for all the good it did.

 

The screen door slid open and the owner of the shop stepped through. He was an older man, wrinkled and tan, but he carried himself well. He brought out a tray and a porcelain tea set, from which he set four places and poured four cups.

 

“You’re going to have visitors.” The man’s voice was soft, but not weak. “The magistrate. And young miss Kubo.”

 

“To greet the lunatic with a knife, no doubt.”

 

“To thank her, perhaps.” The man shrugged and turned for the door. “Enjoy the tea.” 

 

With that, he left. Next through the door was the magistrate Satoshi Fujiwara himself, a tall, regal man with jet black hair and hawkish features. Behind him came Eiko, a regal figure in her own right. She still wore her makeup and wedding kimono, obscuring some of her expression. Kohaku thought they saw a glimmer of recognition when Eiko glanced over to Masami.

 

The magistrate spoke first. “So. Master Hisakawa. This is your wife?”

Kohaku nodded. “These past eighteen years, yes.”

 

“And she fought in the War of the Dozen Years of Smoke?”

 

Again, Kohaku nodded. “Yes. She was bound to Lord Senshi Ishikawa at the time, as his retainer. I believe her tanto bears his mark still.”

 

“Lord Ishikawa?” Eiko interjected as Kohaku reached to hand over the tanto for inspection. “His soldiers were of the bravest sort. Many of them fought alongside my father.”

 

“Yeah. I did. He’s the genius who gave me this arm.”

All three turned to face Masami. She had mustered the energy to sit up slightly. “Kohaku, be a dear and pass me some tea?”

 

Kohaku offered the cup, holding it to her lips. Masami frowned, but let them proceed anyway.

 

“That’s a little bit better. So. I assume everyone in Amagasaki knows by now.”

 

“The guards are attempting to keep things under control. But yes, I am afraid news of that little  stunt will have spread across the city by nightfall.” The magistrate furrowed his brow. “Though I suppose we should be thanking you. That...thing -”

 

“Dustling.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“It’s called a Dustling. It’s a herald, of sorts. An omen of things to come. Not quite a full yokai, but a sure sign of their coming. They’re mindless and not particularly dangerous on their own, though if anyone’s gone missing in the area recently, that’d be why. But really, they’re just manifestations of Dust. Nothing a bit of steel can’t mop up.”

 

“Then that...Dustling, you called it? Who knows how much longer it might have stayed there if you had not disposed of it. Lord Fujiwara was a friend. I am certain he would be proud of his former retainer.”

 

“Maybe. Let’s cut to the chase. You’ve already alerted the guards, started briefing folks on what we learned back then, right?”

 

“Well, you must understand, we cannot cause a mass panic over a single sighting. It’s as you said - the creature is a simple manifestation. Harmless, almost.”

 

“That’d be a mischaracterization of my words. And you’d be a damn fool not to prepare for the worst. Do you have any idea how many thousands died in the first year of the war because we didn’t fortify, didn’t respond?”

 

“Masami. That’s enough.” Kohaku rested a hand on her shoulder, speaking softly. “I know this is a frightening thing to come back to. The guards have already sent letters to the local lords though. Isn’t that right, magistrate?”

Satoshi’s face was placid, though his voice carried a tinge of anger. “Indeed. By this time tomorrow, every noble within twenty miles will have heard, and begun to muster their forces. We are taking this matter seriously, I assure you. But it is imperative we do not cause a panic.”

 

Masami shrugged. “If you say so. Can we go? I’d really prefer to be in my own bed while I contemplate the return of the demons.”

 

Eiko spoke once more. “A moment, before then, please? You said you fought with my father’s men. May I have your name? So I may inform him you are well.”

 

“He uh... He wouldn’t know my current name. Tell him Hashimoto’s still around, I guess. And that Jiro sends his regards.” Masami shifted uncomfortably in her robes. “And tell him Sayori is watching. He’ll know what that means.”

 

With that, Masami stood, finally finding her footing. “C’mon Kohaku. Let’s get out of here. And uh, congratulations you two. Sorry it took such a turn.” She mustered a bow for the two nobles.

 

Eiko and Satoshi nodded respectfully in turn as Masami stepped through the door. Kohaku looked back apologetically. “She really doesn’t mean any disrespect. Straight to the point, she is. No roundabout language. You know the sort.” They bowed hurriedly before rushing out after Masami.

 

“Did you really have to be so crass back there?”

 

“Guess I didn’t have to. Don’t like either of ‘em though, and my way’s faster than being ‘polite.’”

 

“Hardass.” Kohaku chuckled, darting over to embrace Masami. “You really did good though. I think Toshiro’s more than a little starstruck.”

 

“Ugh, I bet. He’d better stay well out of all of this. War’d kill him, whether he survived or not.”

 

The pair walked in silence for a while, treading along the main avenue.

 

“Is that where we’re headed then?” Kohaku was the one who broke the silence. “Another war?”

 

“I don’t know. I think we might be. If no one can stop it, that is.” Masami put her arm around the carpenter’s waist, giving them a squeeze. “It’ll be okay. Nothing’s going to make it this far out. Just like last time. All the fighting’ll be way off near the ocean. If it hasn’t already started.” With that they reached the gates, where Toshiro had the cart ready for their return trip.

 

Masami could see Toshiro was anxious to hammer her with questions, but a single dismissive look was all it took to dissuade him. He busied himself with the cart instead, nudging the horse to take them along the road. The air was still and they rode in near silence. Masami curled up in Kohaku’s lap for comfort, and for a time, she was calm.

 

The quiet continued even as they crossed into the forest. Not even the crickets sang out. Suddenly, Toshiro’s horse reared back with a panicked whinny, nearly overturning the cart. Masami bolted up, eyes sweeping the area for the source of the panic.

 

Broken branches. A trail? No. Skid marks...shit!

 

“There!” Masami leapt from the cart, knife drawn once more as her left arm slipped from her sleeve. “Something was dragged here. Must’ve been -”

 

The words stopped in her throat. There in the opening in the trees lay a leg. Human, it seemed. Blood pooled in the drag marks in the dirt, thick enough to appear black in the moonlight. Masami continued a few paces further. She regretted it immediately. Around the other side of a thick oak tree, bathed in a moonbeam, a gruesome sight awaited her. Three men splattered against the trunk of the old oak. They’d been shredded and rearranged into a horrible, twisted mockery of the human form. Arms were shoved through ribcages, legs bent and broken, mouths pulled back with bone shard staples into grotesque grins.

 

It was all Masami could do to keep from vomiting. Jiro! Is it still nearby?

 

I don’t think so. If it is, it’s good at hiding. Quite the artist, wouldn’t you say?

 

Fuck you. Alright, keep an eye out, will you?

 

With that she turned back, waving Kohaku and Toshiro away. “Don’t come back here! Seriously. You’d regret it.”

 

She dashed back to the cart. “Toshiro, let’s go. Fast. Something killed three people back there. Can’t do much with just this knife if it appears.” 

 

“Wha -”

 

“Do it! Now! Questions later!”

 

The shout snapped the boy out of his stupor, and he cracked the reins. Off they went as fast as the old mare could pull them. Masami now clung to Kohaku for stability as much as comfort. As they came up the hill out of the forest, she looked back. She could’ve sworn she saw several trees bending and falling in the distance.

 

When at last they reached the cottage, Masami could not force herself to stand. Kohaku lifted her and bid Toshiro good night. Up the old, familiar stairs they went. Kohaku laid Masami gently into the bed and crawled in after her, pulling her tight against their chest.

 

“Kohaku?”

 

“Yes, little one?”

“I think...” She paused, forcing back the lump in her throat. “I think I might have to go. It’s bad, worse than I thought. There’s going to be another war and I can’t let that happen so I have to go and stop it.”

“Why you? You served your time already. Let the soldiers do their jobs. That isn’t you anymore.”

 

“I have to be it again.”

“Why?”

 

Masami sighed, tears welling in her eyes. “The arm. I never told you exactly what it is.”

 

“You said it was cursed by a demon during the war.”

“That’s...not completely true. I’m sorry, I really am. I should’ve told you. But we had just met, and I didn’t want to scare you away.” She buried her face deeper in the carpenter’s chest. “It’s not cursed by a demon. It’s part of a demon. Jiro. A tengu.”

 

Masami paused for a moment. “During the war, I was badly injured. This was back when I was the firebrand commander of Lord Ishikawa’s vanguard. We were storming General Kobayashi’s fort - he’d cut a deal with the yokai. It was a horrible battle.”

 

She shuddered at the memory. “His men couldn’t feel pain or fear. Nothing short of killing them could stop them. Hack and stab all you liked, and they’d just keep coming. It was...it was the worst part of the war, aside from Takayama. They were fighting alongside yokai as well. Our numbers were superior, but we all knew it would be a costly fight.”

 

Kohaku stroked her hair as she spoke, nodding softly.

 

“I was fighting back to back with my second in command, Satoshi. There were three of those cursed men to my right, and a gashadokuro to my left, pretty far away. Terrible things, gashadokuro. They’re these horrible gaunt skeletons ten times the size of a man, and they feed on flesh. Well, as I went to decapitate one of Kobayashi’s men, the damn thing sprung over and bit down. It was all I could do to get my head out of the way.”

 

“I felt a terrible pain in my shoulder, and I think I blacked out. The next thing I remember is Satoshi putting bandages over the wound, five of our men clustered around us to keep back the enemy.”

 

“So you lost your arm entirely?”

 

“Yeah. Bit off just past the shoulder, actually. I lost some of my collarbone with it. Anyway, we won that battle, and in the days after, a messenger arrived. He bore a letter from Lord Kubo. Eiko’s father. It was an offer to all injured soldiers. He promised to give us a second chance at fighting. Well, being the person I was back then, I leapt at the chance. I wish I hadn’t.”

 

“They’d found some way to graft demon parts onto people. Give the recipient some of the monster’s powers. Said they could replace my arm, and give me a way to kill the things for real. How could I refuse?”

 

“And that’s what you have now.”

 

“Yeah. And I won’t let anyone else go through that. I’m the last survivor of the program. The only one who could keep the monster they put inside me at bay.”

 

Kohaku squeezed her tighter.

 

“So that’s why it has to be me. I know how to stop them. I have the skills, the tools, and this damned arm.” She choked, biting back a sob. “They’d do this to their soldiers. They’re practically children. I can’t let them.”

 

Kohaku nodded. “I know.” Their arm trailed down her back as they pressed their lips to the top of her head. “But don’t you dare get yourself killed.”

 

“I won’t. This time I have something to live for.”

 

And so the two spent the night in each other’s arms, enjoying the time they had left. The last night for a long, long time.

6