Yang 1: Headaches and Heartbreaks

And now one of our main characters is introduced.

The young Asian boy trudged down the sodden Tokyo sidewalk, his eyes downcast and uncaring about what he stumbled into. His perpetually-messy raven hair was plastered all about his head, the drenching onslaught of rain pouring drearily all about him. His thumb was absentmindedly flicking the spark wheel on his lime green lighter, despite the weather. He had just left a saké shop, his head all abuzz with liquor. The boy wasn't even old enough to be drinking, a few months shy of the legal age of 20.

 

That didn't matter to him, though, especially at the moment. His girlfriend, Kikyou, broke off their nearly two-year relationship on dubious grounds. She had berated him, telling him he was simply too nice to her and that he should have acted angry instead of keeping his emotions to himself. Kikyou questioned why he didn't confront her when he found out she was seeing someone else. She wanted to know why her actions didn't upset or anger him, why she couldn't get through to him.

 

He had been confused. 'Does she want to cause issues between us?' he thought. 'Does she intentionally try to anger me?'

 

She went on and on, her Japanese fluent and passionate, emphasizing her anger with him for his lack of anger. "Why are you distancing yourself from me?" she had screamed. "Why can't you just be angry when you're angry!?"

 

"Because I love you," he had said. He was rewarded with a slap, tears breaking free and rolling down her face, and harsh, bitter words that haunted him ever since.

 

"You're a fool, Kyo," she had spat, "An utter fool. How can you love me? Love does not exist. I used to think it did, but time taught me a far harsher lesson that I had thought possible. Love isn't real. Don't fool yourself into thinking otherwise, Kyo, before you hurt more than you should."

 

She had left him then, left him in his confusion and hurt, and he could only think over what she had said, almost obsessively.

 

Love does not exist.

 

That had been half a day ago. Kyo had wondered what to do with himself since, trying to distract himself. Each endeavour proved fruitless, ultimately reminding him of her and the time they had spent together. In hindsight, it had been a rather foolish idea to partake together in every activity the city had to offer them. When all was said and done, everything would remind him of this...of them. He hadn't prepared for that, though. He hadn't ever expected them to go their separate ways.

 

"I'll love you forever," she had said once, lying against his chest, her voice barely a whisper. "I always will."

 

At the time, he thought nothing of it. He knew that she loved him. He loved her as well. No, he still loved her. Stroking her hair then, he had said he loved her too, and that their love was as beautiful and selfless as that of the sun and the moon's. She had smiled at that, a small, comforting smile, and he had felt himself return it without hesitation.

 

Kyo shook his head. Love does not exist. She hadn't meant it. His heart ached, and for what he didn't know. Was it because he hated her? Or did he love her regardless of what she had done? He felt as though he should hate her, as though she were the most undesirable concept he could have dreamt up. Even now, in his anger and sorrow, he couldn't bring himself to associate her with feelings like disgust and hatred.

 

No, those emotions he saved for himself.

 

'How could you be so stupid, Kyo?' he mentally berated himself; his fingers absentmindedly clicked the wheel of his lighter even faster, reflecting his internal frustration. 'How could you be so blind? She is beautiful and smart and kind and caring. The fact that she was all this and more should have set off alarms!' Kyo's mother had always told him stories as a young boy about powerful creatures, cruel and devastatingly clever, that disguised themselves as beautiful women to get close to men before ruining their lives. 'Kitsune', his mother had warned, 'beautiful but deadly. Do not fall for looks alone, my sweet child, lest you be ensnared by wicked temptation.'

 

'She was just a kitsune,' he thought wearily, still trudging down the sodden street walk he had been walking on for the past few hours. 'A beautiful and dangerous woman. Mother was right. Just a kitsune.'

 

A disconcerting feeling nagged at the back of his cloudy mind, the alcoholic intoxicant still coursing through his system. He struggled to recall what was so urgent, what wouldn't leave his consciousness to its misery, what was so annoyingly persistent in its relevance. Slow as his mental processes were at the moment, it finally clicked: his keys.

 

Kyo sighed. The owner of the saké shop had taken one look at him, and felt sympathetic. No doubt the bartender had seen her own fair share of heartbreak during her tenure as a barkeep, perhaps countless young adults and teenagers with their hearts broken, looking to temporarily do the same to their minds. While the woman had been sympathetic to his situation and waved him in, she hadn't been completely irresponsible. She had refused to serve him alcohol while he was still in possession of his keys; she'd also seen her fair share of the youth attempt to drive away after drinking heavily only to receive disastrous results, and she had no wish to see it happen any longer.

 

He had reluctantly complied, and drank himself into a stupor. All the while, he slurred his story to the floral pattern kimono-clad woman, who lent an unbiased and nonjudgmental ear. He spoke in English, since even Japanese reminded him of her; the woman responded to him in fluent English as well. Takamura, as he found out her name was, had had her own share of troubles and seemed experienced beyond her appearance of a mere 35 years. There was this air of elegance and strength about her, an aura that immediately tipped Kyo off so as not to cross her. He pointed out his admiration of her wisdom, but she dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand, replying "I simply overhear a lot of things I probably have no business knowing while tending to my saké shop. I do know this, however: this place is a gold mine for information. A drunk tongue is an honest one."

 

He had left bills behind, more than enough to cover the bill (it had been his way of thanking her for her generosity and kind heart), and stumbled out the store while she was busy tending to things in the backroom. He had left without his keys, and only a significant time after had he bothered to remember it.

 

Turning around to make his way back to the saké shop, he broke into a run, arms pumping as he dashed along the Tokyo sidewalk with reckless abandonment. His vision was blurring even more so than because of the alcohol, due to the thick downpour of rain that did not seem to be likely to let up anytime soon. He had blinked but once while running and that was all it took for him to lose his coordination and overall balance, stumbling and heading right for the floor. Kyo screwed up his eyes, his lighter flying out of his grasp as his hands clumsily attempting to protect his face as he fell towards the foggy ground " how long had the smoke-like gas been there?

 

Someone grasped him, preventing his fall. Kyo opened his eyes.

 

A woman was staring back at him, a worried look in her eyes.

 

“Are you alright?” Her voice sounded odd, perhaps because of the surgical mask she wore; it was not an uncommon sight to see people with such masks on, in order to prevent catching colds and other sicknesses. She seemed to be studying him with her sharp eyes.

 

“Are you a sssurgeon?” Kyo asked, a loopy smile coming to his face as he straightened up. “You look like a sssurgeon, you are, aren’t you?”

 

The woman’s eyes crinkled; she seemed to be smiling, though he couldn’t tell under that surgical mask she wore. “Perhaps, in a manner of speaking.” She tilted her head, sizing him up. “The scent of alcohol is strong on your breath. What is your name?”

 

“Watassshi wa namae wa Kyo desssu,” he responded, hiccupping slightly. “My name isss Kyo. And yoursss?”

 

“Kuchisa.”

 

The name sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Kyo pushed it from his mind. He spotted his lighter a little ways away, and went over to it, bending down to retrieve it, feeling a bit safer when its warmth was back in his grasp. “That’sss a pretty name, Kuchisssa-sssan. Thank you for sssaving me.”

 

She seemed to be smiling at his words. “Think nothing of it. Though…do you think my name is as pretty as I am?”

 

That was an odd question to ask " even in his inebriated state, Kyo wondered where that question came from. He had a nagging feeling that that was an important question, that he had heard it somewhere before, and for some reason, it brought negative connotations with it. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember when he had heard that question before; this bothered him, as he was usually good with memory, even when drunk.

 

Kyo looked at her face, taking in the features that weren’t obscured by the pale green surgical mask. Her eyes were dark and intense; her nose sharp. Though she had angular features, she had a look about her that suggested her face had been smoother at one point. Her hair was long and tumbled to the side of her left shoulder; curiously, it was not damp from the rain. He supposed she could be considered attractive, though she seemed to be several years older than him, nearing her thirties. He couldn’t particularly tell her she was unattractive, however, as that would be rude.

 

“Hai, Kuchisssa-sssan. You are v-very p-pretty.”

 

Was it just him, or had the surrounding area gotten colder? The fog seemed more pronounced, somehow, more prominent. Beneath her mask, Kuchisa’s grin seemed to grow; Kyo thought she was pleased with his compliment.

 

“You are very gracious to say so, Kyo-san.” Her voice was low now, quiet. “But I wonder…what would you think? You’ve yet to see all of my face, how can you make an accurate judgment? Perhaps I should remove my mask. I do not suspect I will be getting sick today, not many people are out. Would you like to see my face, Kyo-san?” Her voice seemed to compel him to agree.

 

This didn’t make any sense. It was raining heavily, yet Kuchisa thought the only way to get sick was from other people? She did not have an umbrella. What an odd woman. And yet…he was rather curious what she looked like without the mask.

 

Nodding his head, he said, “Y-you are c-correct, Kuchisssa-sssan.”

 

Her grin seemed to grow even wider. “Perhaps you will be shocked by my beauty,” she whispered, grasping the edges of the surgical mask. She slowly removed it, pulling the elastic corners down over her ears, and letting it fall to hang around her neck.

 

Kyo stared at her lower face for a moment. He blinked. And then he stared some more.

 

Where Kuchisa’s mouth should have been, a gaping maw of disfigurement was instead in its place. It looked as though someone had taken an incredibly sharp blade to her face and carved a grin into it, her cheeks and mouth horribly butchered. Kuchisa’s mouth was slit from ear to ear, a Glasgow Grin in place of what had once been whole skin. Her grin was sinister, grotesque and twisted, and her eyes drastically changed from the darkest of blacks to an almost blinding white iris. She also seemed paler now, more ethereal. She tilted her head, smiling her demented smile at the young man.

 

“And now?” she asked, sounding almost as though she were looking for his approval.

 

“A-and now w-w-what?” Kyo stammered; it wasn’t only the alcohol’s effect on him this time. He felt the prickly cold sensation of what he recognized as fear.

 

“Am I pretty!?” she bellowed, widening her eyes as she took a step forward. The fog made it harder to see, but Kyo noticed she was now wielding a pair of impossibly large scissors. From where had she produced it? Did it simply materialize from the mist? And were those bloodstains on it?

 

It was as she was stalking menacingly towards him that it clicked. Perhaps it was the fear, the rush of adrenaline that allowed him to think a bit more clearly than before. The bloody scissors and the mutilated face acted as the catalyst " now he knew where he recognized her from. Now her name made sense.

 

Kuchisa. He had wondered why that name sounded familiar, and now he realized it was part of another phrase: kuchisake-onna, the Slit-Mouthed Woman. His mother had warned him of the terrible urban legend of a samurai who had become enraged at his unfaithful wife, so he had mutilated her face in a rage, killing her in the process. Her anger at her murder resulted in her returning as a malevolent spirit, intending to do unto others what her husband had done to her. It was said that on dark nights such as tonight, the Kuchisake-Onna would appear to young children while wearing her mask, asking them if she was pretty. If the child said no, they would be brutally butchered. If the child said yes, the Kuchisake-Onna would then remove her surgical mask, asking if they still thought she was beautiful. If the child said no, they would also die. If the child said yes, the Kuchisake-Onna would carve their face in a similar fashion, to make them “beautiful” as well.

 

Well s**t. Kyo was screwed then.

 

The sharp clacks of her snapping the scissors caught his attention. S**t s**t s**t, what else was there to the urban legend? He was sure his mother had told him the way to defeat the Kuchisake-Onna, but had he been paying attention? Or couldn’t he remember because he was still sort of drunk?

 

“Kyo-san,” her high voice called, impatient, “does my appearance please you?”

 

He was taking a few steps back, still trying to think and process why the hell a supernatural creature had decided to mark him for death. It didn’t make sense: according to the urban legend, she targeted children, and he was nearly twenty. And wasn’t this supposed to be an urban legend? What, were oni and kitsune going to reveal their existences too?

 

“Average,” a voice came, soft as a whisper. “Tell her she is average. This shall confuse her.”

“W-who sssaid t-that?” Kyo stammered, blinking rapidly. The voice was distinctly different from that of the Kuchisake-Onna’s. It seemed to be encouraging and warm. It seemed…trustworthy. But was it in his mind? He had nothing to lose. ‘Here’s hoping it works.’

 

“Y-you are a-a-average,” he blurted, and the effects were immediate. Kuchisake-Onna faltered in her steps, tilting her head at his words. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and realized this was his chance to escape. Breaking into a sprint, he hightailed it out of there as fast as he could, not looking back.

 

That didn’t stop the spirit from appearing before him once more, a nonplussed expression to her face. “I am average?” Kuchisa questioned, still unsure of what to do.

 

“A-average,” Kyo repeated, a bit more firmly this time. He was sobering up quickly, the adrenaline still causing his heart and mind to race. “You are a-average, no m-more, no lesssss.”

 

“Am I beautiful?” the Kuchisake-Onna persisted, unable to process his answer. “Tell me! Am I beautiful!?”

 

“Ask her if you are handsome,” the whisper came again. “Answer her question with one of your own.”

 

“H-how about me? A-Am I handsssome?”

 

The Kuchisake-Onna froze " she was thoroughly unprepared for this, and her hesitance gave Kyo another opportunity to escape. Down the street he ran, taking a sharp left into a deserted alleyway. Keeping up his pace, he launched himself towards one of the walls, kicking off it to use as a base against the next wall, pushing with all his might against the wall once more to flip backwards over the barbed fence, landing deftly on the ground. His inebriation seemed to have mostly worn off in physical terms, but his speech still wasn’t at its best. Kyo silently thanked his brother for teaching him the art of parkour, as it had never come in as handy as it did then.

 

Turning to leave, he glanced about. It was once he realized that the path lead to a dead end that he realized it was a rather horrible idea to run to an isolated area with a demonic supernatural creature attempting to kill him. Kyo cursed audibly " this would be the last time he drank himself into a stupor, especially if such creatures like Kuchisake-Onna existed.

 

“AM I BEAUTIFUL!?” Her voice was impossibly loud, startling him as she materialized from the foggy mist, her presence accompanied by the familiar clacking sound of her shear-like scissors. He couldn’t out run her. He couldn’t escape from her, and he was doomed to die.

 

‘And is that so bad?’ a voice in his mind whispered, one he was all too familiar with. ‘So what if you die? What have you to live for? Kikyou? She led you on and left you out to dry. Your mother? You know you’re her disappointing child, you could never measure up to her first-born, Kenji. Even he doesn’t acknowledge you that much; some big brother he is. Or do you still cling to that hope about your fath"‘

 

“SHUT UP!” Kyo roared. The Kuchisake-Onna seemed puzzled by his outburst; she did not advance any further, though her butchered visage contorted into something akin to fear. The voice had gone silent at Kyo’s outburst, but he still heard its echo in the corners of his consciousness. ‘It’s right,’ Kyo thought. ‘I’ve nothing to live for. Nothing.’

 

“You speak to me just like my husband did,” Kuchisake-Onna intoned. “He was verbally abusive, he would bellow at me to keep silent and to make no noise, whether in public or private. Honour is all that wretched samurai cared about. He did not care about me, or my needs, only honourable, dignified appearances.” Her voice sounded soft, at this point. Wistful. “There was a time he was loving and kind, however. Once, long ago, he was a different man. But he soon transformed, his personality far uglier than I. It was he who drove me into the arms of another man. It was he who did this to himself. It was he who did this to me. But,” she grinned, “It is I who shall do the same to you!” She had worked herself up into a frenzy, and the rapidity with which her scissors clacked reflected that. She once again began approaching the boy before her, her mind intent on continuing the honourable legacy her husband had first bestowed upon her.

 

“You a-are be-beautiful,” Kyo said softly, before closing his eyes. He was resigned to his fate " it wasn’t as though he could escape the apparition. A hint of acknowledgement sparked in the brilliant eyes of the vengeful spirit, before she answered.

 

“Then I shall make you beautiful as well!” She lunged towards him, the enormous scissors widened and searing towards his head.

 

“And harm such a pretty face? I don’t think so.”

 

Kyo’s eyes flew open, as he heard yet another voice. It was a distinctly female voice, and he had thought they were alone. An ofuda, a paper talisman, came whirring from down a foggy rooftop, and intercepted the scissors, stopping it in its tracks. The glowing paper talisman wrapped around the blades, preventing them from opening. The Kuchisake-Onna shrieked, trying and failing to regain control of her scissors. Kyo looked up " he could barely make out the shape of the woman before she leaped down and landed nimbly upon the solid ground.

 

His fatigue catching up with him, Kyo stumbled when he tried to back away from the Kuchisake-Onna. He felt his consciousness slip away from him, for the briefest of moments, as he only had an instant to recognize he was about to collide painfully with the ground.

 

A pair of firm hands appeared before him, one catching him around the waist with the other on his chest. His momentum caused him and his saviour to lower, though not enough to hit the ground, before being righted back up into a standing position. Kyo opened his eyes.

 

“T-thank you,” Kyo began, but she was not having it, an angry expression upon her face.

 

"How can you expect to make it home if you're running recklessly, stumbling through the streets drunk? Be more careful," she scolded, her hands still about his waist and chest. It took him a moment to realize it, but his face seemed to be flushed more so than the alcohol would justify, and his heart was beating rapidly. Moments later, he took note of the hand on his chest, its touch cool, right over his heart.

 

Kyo's eyes widened, and he took a step back, away from her hands. The girl’s touch was seared into his mind, its lack of warmth striking him as unusual, before he remembered they were in the middle of a downpour of rain; of course she was going to be cold.

 

She gave him an odd, quizzical look, something that only served to unsettle him some more. “You’re rather warm for someone who is drenched in rain,” she acknowledged, studying him cryptically. He had been gazing at her for a few moments, and yet her fierce look was already emblazoned in his memory, despite his inebriated state. Her reflective, dark eyes, her petite nose, her creamy skin, her red lips, a white rose in her hair...even with her hair slick with rain and all about her face...this woman is beautiful.

 

It was then that he remembered his mother's warnings, those that he had ignored so recklessly before. Do not fall for looks alone, my sweet child, lest you be ensnared by wicked temptation.

 

"A-A-Arigatō," he whispered slurrily, bowing as deeply as his drunken state would let him. "Y-you have s-sssaved me f-from an unpleasssant ssstate."

 

"A fate that you could've all too well avoided yourself, had you taken care not to get so mind-numbingly drunk," she rebuked, but her harsh words were softened when she followed them with a smile. "And where were you off to in such a rush...?"

 

He realized she was waiting for him to say his name. "K-Kyo," he stuttered, tongue way too loose for his liking. He had just met this woman, and he already seemed to be making a fool of himself. "I wasss jussst h-h-heading back to Taka-Takamura'sss sssake ssshop. I forgot my keysss."

 

"Perhaps the gods were looking down on you, and made sure you did. Otherwise, I'm sure your driving would have resulted in a fate much worse than falling to the ground." Her quizzical eyes summed him up as she brushed back wet strands of hair from her face, pausing before she returned the polite gesture. "I am called Hatsumomo."

 

‘First peach,' he thought. Looking over her features, he saw how her face was small and delicate, her cheeks slightly rosy, and her lips red and luscious. 'Fitting.'

 

"I-It isss a pleasssure to meet you, H-Hatsssumomo-sssan."

 

“Save your pleasantries for later, Kyo-kun. We’ve got company, or have you forgotten?”

 

An ethereal scream served to emphasize her point. The Kuchisake-Onna advanced slowly, taking time to stew in her rage. “You will suffer for your insolence, onmyoji! Such a low-level binding spell could not possibly keep me from killing you!” The clacking of her scissors underlined her words, the metallic clanging drawing nearer and getting louder.

 

“We’ve gotta go! Come with me if you want to live!” Hatsumomo grasped his hand, her touch still unsettling, as she pulled him into a run alongside her. Just like that, they were running. Where, Kyo knew not. Away from the dead-end corner they sprinted, following the winding paths of open-ended alleys and intersecting pathways. All the while, they remained isolated from the main streets and stuck to the shadows.

 

“It’sss ussselesssss,” Kyo shouted, “she’ll catch ussss no matter what we do! She jussst won’t give up!”

 

“Neither will we!” Hatsumomo yelled back, before casting an eye back to see that Kuchisake-Onna was floating behind them, her dark hair billowing out behind her and a mad look in her lifeless eyes. “Be quiet, Kuchisake-Onna! Remain out of sight and keep silent at all times!”

 

“What’re you doing!?” Kyo gasped, disbelieving. Was she trying to incite the spectre’s wrath?

 

Hatsumomo ignored him, instead calling out to the ethereal spirit. “Must you be so loud? Must you be so troublesome? You will regret your actions, I will make sure of it!”

 

“Ssstop!! You’re going to pissss her off, you sssound like her husssb"”

 

“Her husband, I know! That’s the point!”

 

Kuchisake-Onna’s fury was tangible: a chill descended upon them, and she made wide sweeps with her bladed scissors, shrieking at them all the while. “You dare speak to me in such a manner? An ugly creature such as yourself!? You will regret your lewd tongue, insolent girl, I will cut it out myself! I will personally make you beautiful, so that your visage may be what your personality cannot!”

 

This didn’t seem to faze the girl at all, as she finally led Kyo to a stretch of isolated land that housed a rather large building that he didn’t recognize. She let go of his hand, but she didn’t seem to be slowing down; with the sudden release, Kyo stumbled, falling to the ground as Hatsumomo disappeared from his sight. Scrambling up, he made to dash after her, but Kuchisake-Onna materialized before him, cutting off his path.

 

Kyo didn’t know what to do " had Hatsumomo betrayed him? Had she sacrificed him just so she could get away? No, that didn’t make sense…why would she save him only to ditch him to his death? Did she have some sort of a plan? She certainly didn’t say anything to him about it. Suddenly he felt the beginnings of doubt crawl into his mind. Who was she, and why had he trusted her? She was a stranger. Sure, she had saved him before, but had she only done that to give him hope before dooming him? She was beautiful, just as beautiful, if not more so, than Kikyou. She had also proven herself clever and skilled. Had his mother not warned him? 'Beautiful but deadly. Do not fall for looks alone, my sweet child, lest you be ensnared by wicked temptation.”

 

“Are you?” he murmured, eyes downcast as he felt a sort of defeated calm come over him. He recognized it as disappointment. It had happened again. He had fallen for it once more. His eyes flashed angrily, glaring in the direction of in which she had run off. “ARE YOU A KITSSSUNE!?”

 

Silence.

 

And then…”She is not a kitsune. She is an ally. Trust her.”

 

There it was again. That voice…the one that seemed to come from within his head, the warm one. Anger pushed out his thoughts of the voice, and his remark was simple.

 

“I’m not one for trussst.”

 

Ever closer Kuchisake-Onna drew, her giant shears snapping pointedly. As a last ditch effort, Kyo pulled out his lime-green lighter, feeling its warmth even though he hadn’t summoned the flame yet. Sparking the wheel, the white-blue flame burst to life, flickering as it thrived in the air. Thrusting his hand forward, he put the fire between him and the demon spirit as though it would ward her off.

 

“Back off!” he shouted, waving his arm haphazardly. “You’re made of ectoplasssm, aren’t you? I don’t know much about it, but I’m betting it’sss flammable. Care to tessst my theory?”

 

Kuchisake-Onna did not hesitate in the slightest, as she zoomed towards him, her enormous scissors opened wide and ready to slash at him. Instinctively bringing his valued lighter back to him, Kyo closed his eyes in anticipation for the blow, exhaling what may have been his last.

 

A shriek caused his eyes to fly open, as he witnessed a large torrent of flames engulf the sinister spirit. Her scream was ethereal and haunting, horrifying Kyo as he witnessed the mass of flames that was Kuchisake-Onna.

 

What scared him even more was where the flames had come from: Kyo himself.

 

Surprise seized him, as he tried to process what happened: from whence had those flames come? His first instinct had been that Hatsumomo had summoned them, but she was nowhere near him. And when he had opened his eyes, he had seen the flames emanating from his mouth. But how?

 

‘The alcohol,’ Kyo realized. He had been drinking rather heavily earlier, and perhaps when he had exhaled, it had been enough fuel to start a chain reaction with his lighter’s flame. Even then, to think that he was capable of scorching Kuchisake-Onna…surely his breath wasn’t that powerful? And wasn’t it raining? How had his lighter even managed to stay alight?

 

“In here!” Hatsumomo’s voice broke his contemplation, and he saw her gazing at him in surprise before he dashed towards to nearby warehouse. Outside, the rain was starting to put out the inferno on the ghost, and her shrieks only seemed to grow more and more feral. She was in hot pursuit, shrieking like a banshee as she threatened them with brutal retribution.

 

“I will not be bested by children! I will not be defeated! I am Kuchisake-Onna, the Slit-Mouthed Woman, and I am the most beautiful woman to ever live! I killed my blood-thirsty samurai husband, I will not be bested by an onmyoji and a drunk! I refuse it! Die now, and be gone from my sight, you ugly, wretched things!”

 

“Why must you be so angry? Cool down,” Hatsumomo mused, nonchalantly. Pulling out an ofuda talisman from her back pocket, she threw it in the direction of Kuchisake-Onna, who saw it coming and snipped it clean in half.

 

“Your tricks will not work a second time, witch! You must think me a fool to attempt the same jest twice!”

 

“No, I don’t think you a fool. I think you distracted.” It was just before Kuchisake-Onna snipped the talisman that a second talisman broke away from the first, catching the spirit by surprise and binding to her forehead. Immediately, she froze, paralyzed as the kanji on the ofuda glowed a brilliant white. Raising a hand with her index and middle fingers pointed up, the rest curled, Hatsumomo thrust out her other palm in the direction of the Kuchisake-Onna.

 

“I’m only a beginner, so I normally wouldn’t be able to generate much water on my own.” Hatsumomo’s eyebrows slanted downwards, a focused look coming onto her face. “I can only create and control small amounts of water vapour. Unfortunately for you, the fact that it’s raining outside greatly helps me " I may not be able to produce a lot of water, but I certainly can control it.”

 

The letters on the ofuda grew brighter, and Kyo could make them out now: it read FREEZE. He was just about to ask how she had managed to bind the spirit, but all of the windows imploded simultaneously, the work of exploding paper talismans, and a torrential downpour of rain from outside flew in, flooding the room. Not losing a beat, Hatsumomo bit the thumb of the hand with the palm thrust out, blood flowing out, and tapped her index and middle fingers of the same hand on each other, before drawing symbols in the air before her with her bloodied fingers. Kyo read them as she wrote it, and realized she was writing the kanji for ‘Binding Technique #13: Water Prison.’

 

Thrusting her palm out, a slip of paper materialized around the writing in the air, and she cast the ofuda towards the Kuchisake-Onna’s forehead, lying on top of the first, and instantly the water rose up and engulfed Kuchisake-Onna, forming a massive liquid sphere around her. Hatsumomo again began to write on the air before her, and this time she winced, groaning slightly as she scribbled ‘Binding Technique #19: Frozen Fortress.’ Repeating the process once more, her palm summoned the paper which appeared around her writing, and she tossed it towards her opponent once more, the ofuda attaching itself to the flowing water prison. Narrowing her eyes at the immobilized and unresponsive ghost, she murmured, “Chill out,” she mocked, and Kyo just stared at her. Did she really just utter a lame pun?

 

Hatsumomo’s right hand was still closed aside from her index and middle fingers, and her left palm that was stretched outwards closed, and the water forming the prison instantly froze over, sealing the spirit within as the paper talisman glowed to indicate it was active. In the middle of the room, Kuchisake-Onna stood, defeated within an orb of ice. Sighing, Hatsumomo slid down to her knees, hands on the ground as she panted from exhaustion. Despite that, she still managed to find the strength for a weak smile.

 

“W-what wasss that…?” Kyo asked, disbelieving. He had just witnessed more supernatural phenomena in under an hour than he had in his entire life. A ghost, a witch, and magic. Magic. All of it was real? “A-Are you a w-witch?”

 

Hatsumomo chuckled, before gasping, clutching her chest. Kyo was instantly at her side, gazing at her concernedly. “I’m fine,” she assured him, and he sat beside her, watching her carefully. “And no, I’m not a witch. I’m an onmyoji. Though I suppose the differences are few and far in-between.”

 

“I’ve never heard of an onmyoji before. What isss that?”

 

Hatsumomo seemed drained, her breathing laboured and coming in ragged, deep breaths. “Too much to explain now…let’s save that…for when we get back to Takamura’s. You’ve got to…get your keys…remember?”

 

She seemed to be in pain, as though her activities had put a huge strain on her. Kyo reached out a trembling hand and placed it on her forehead, which was incredibly cool. Was she getting sick because of the rain?

 

“You’re…warm,” she murmured, eyes fluttering between open and closed. Her breathing seemed to steadily even out, and she absentmindedly reached up to make sure the white rose was still at her right temple.

 

“You sssound like you’re…”

 

“…Dying? Hardly.” She gave him a weak grin. “It’s just that…I’m an apprentice, relatively new to the practice of Onmyodo. Normally, I wouldn’t be able to harness enough chi to pull off such intensive moves. I’m surprised I was even capable of executing such high-level techniques, especially for someone of my level. I lied when I told her I could control that amount of water. Those were the first enchantments I’ve managed to cast, my first mizudo.” She saw his puzzled look. “Mizudo is “the Way of the Water”, which is skill set used by those capable of the mystic elemental arts " their spirit must be adaptable and fluid if they are to efficiently use the spells of the mizudo. At my level, though, I can only do low-ranking defensive mizudo techniques. It helped that it was rainy outside, since it drastically reduced the amount of water I would need to have successfully cast the binding mizudo, but still, transforming water into ice was difficult and way out of my league. It’s an incredibly advanced technique, and I was only capable with great risk to myself; I suspect that I used up far more chi than I intended, which led to physical repercussions. I suppose Lady Luck was smiling down on me this night.” She paused, sighing as she slowly began to feel better. “As I am now, I only have control over water vapour, which I make effective use for as covers and defensive maneuvers. Let’s just be glad that the spells worked, otherwise I suspect we would be the ones not moving.”

 

Kyo followed her gaze towards the bound Kuchisake-Onna, and Hatsumomo saw his unspoken question in his eyes. “Don’t worry, she’s not going anywhere. We can leave her here for now, no one will be able to undo the spell unless they are of greater skill than I. Onmyojis are few and far in between, and I only know of one other.”

 

“Who?” There were others?

 

“As a matter of fact, you met her earlier tonight. It is to her shop that we will now return.”

 

Kyo gasped. Takamura. There had been something about her, some wisdom he felt she possessed " had that been because she was an onmyoji?

 

Hatsumomo grinned. “Let me guess. She seemed really wise, right? Like she knew more than she was letting on, and that she was knowledgeable beyond her years, am I right? You've no idea how true that is. Shall we get going?” She smiled politely, but Kyo could tell she had a mischievous quality to her.

 

"S-SSSure," Kyo said. "Let usss be on our way."

 

They made their way back to Takamura's saké shop, Hatsumomo holding Kyo by the arm so as to steady him and prevent him from falling again. It wasn't long before the large sign in kanji came into view, reading Takamura's Saké Shop - Drown Your Sorrows To Death. They entered the shop, sopping wet and dripping on her carpet, a fact that did not escape Takamura's notice.

 

"Oi! Anata no wa nani o shite iru to omoimasu ka? What do you think you are doing?? Get over here, stop dripping on my carpet, and stand by the fire!"

 

She gestured towards the blazing fireplace, and Hatsumomo murmured an apology to Takamura while dragging Kyo to the chairs near the fire. Its warmth was refreshing, and the flames leapt high as they crackled merrily. Takamura kept a sharp eye on the couple, a rather unamused expression on her face. She did not appreciate having her ornate, hand-woven Chinese carpet ruined, for it had been a gift.

 

Belatedly, after hearing Takamura speak part of her sentence in English (apparently the only part that wasn't shouted angrily at them), Kyo realized that Hatsumomo had also spoken English as well. "Be more careful," she had said. Kyo blinked in surprise.

 

"Where did you learn English?" he questioned in the tongue, impressed. He hadn't met many people fluent in English.

 

"Online," she responded in English, not bothering to elaborate further. "Takamura also entertains my language preference; not as many people understand it here, so it's easier to speak freely." She had a cryptic smile about her, and it only served to confuse Kyo even more.

 

His mastery over his speech was coming back to him, and this was good: now he could figure out what the hell had just happened.

 

Turning back to his new companion, he arched an eyebrow. Seeing his look, she nodded " she knew he had to have a ton of questions for her.

 

“Alright, alright. Where do you want to begin?”

 

“First things first: what in the seven hells is an onmyoji?”

 

Hatsumomo pondered on that. “Jeez, Abe no Seimei would be rolling in his grave right now. How to explain it? I suppose defining it first is best. An onmyoji is a practitioner of the Onmyodo arts, the Way of Yin and Yang. There are many different subsets, and many different methods with which to employ it. I personally prefer the ofuda, as it is easier for me to handle and channel my chi into the paper talismans, though there are those who would rather allocate their abilities from feng shui, a form of Chinese geomancy, those who can summon the spirit-like Shikigami to do one’s bidding, and even the Gobosei, the pentagram style of the mystic arts.”

 

“Is that all there is?”

 

“No. There are countless ways to tap into one’s reserve of life force, which, as you know, is referred to as chi here in Japan. Elsewhere, they call it mana, chakra, and a whole host of other things. I’ve even heard it called furyoku. In the end, it is all the same: the energy of life within us that connects us to nature and the natural circle of life. But that is not all: it’s more than that. It is also the link between an individual and all of creation, as we are all a small part of the whole, the universe itself. A small change can have big ramifications, regardless of whether or not it’s for the better or worse.” She raised a single finger. “I am a single person with the potential for great power. This power lies within us all, as we all hold a small piece of it. Regardless of race, creed, gender, or any other dividing characteristic, we are all connected by the greatest link of all: life.”

 

Kyo stared blankly at her. “You’re sounding super cheesy right now.”

 

She laughed. “Cheesy or not, it’s true. I know it’s a lot to take in, but that’s the way of things. You’ve now been introduced into a world that not many are privy too. Although I suspect that if they knew at what price it came, they would prefer to be ignorant to it.”

 

“What of Kuchisake-Onna? She was real all along? I thought she was an urban legend.”

 

“Even urban legends have their roots in the truth. If you believe the legends are lies, you’d do well to remember that every lie contains a seed of truth.”

 

“Kitsune? Oni? Teke Teke?”

 

“Yes, yes, and I’m not too sure, though I don’t know anyone alive who has ever seen them. Operative word being ‘alive.’ I guess if they really had met her, we shouldn’t expect them to confirm.”

 

“Why were you there? On a rooftop, watching over her and myself, when there was no one else there?”

 

She brushed back her hair behind her white rose, dismissing his implications. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t following you, I was tracking the strong spiritual presence I felt. I had been sensing it for a few weeks now, and there have been some children unfortunate enough to go missing and presumed deceased. Takamura had dispatched me to disperse the malevolent spirit, as a sort of training regimen to better my abilities " ‘on the field, real life experience’ and all that.”

 

“Wait, Takamura’s training you? You’re her apprentice " she’s your mentor?”

 

“Yes, she is. Intense and unforgiving, but she gets the job done with marvellous results. Anyways, she sent me to dispel the evil spirit haunting this city. However, whenever I did manage to track down her latest target, she would have been long gone. It was by chance that I came across you, and by extension, Kuchisake-Onna. I followed you, waiting for an opportunity to take her by surprise, because it’s the most effective element in a hostile situation. Thanks to your being easy bait, she became easy pickings for me as well.” She grinned at him. “Thanks a lot, Kyo-kun~” she teased, “You were a great help.”

 

Something seemed to click. “Wait, is that why she let me drink? To send me as bait to lure out Kuchisa, er, Kuchisake-Onna? But why me? How did you know she would go for me?”

 

Leaning in close, Hatsumomo raised a single finger. “Simple.” Pointing at him, she poked him right in the chest. “Spirits are attracted to people and things with strong spiritual auras " pure things such as children are often victims of the paranormal as a result. Maybe she mistook you as a child. You are, after all, baby-faced. You also have your own spiritual presence, Kyo, and Takamura made quick note of it and swiftly adapted you into the plan on how to lure out and defeat Kuchisake-Onna. You were a random anomaly no one saw coming, so I suspect the fates had a hand in this.” Smiling all the more brightly, she nudged him playfully in the arm. “We were meant to meet. That’s what I believe.”

 

Kyo racked his brains for more questions, fishing in his pocket to play with his lighter. He knew he had a lot, but he was having trouble figuring out how to word them. “Okay, so you say you’re not a witch. But are you a…a waterbender?”

 

That had her laughing heartily, a beautiful, tinkling sound that caused Kyo’s heart to race. He had made her laugh. “What, like Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender? No, no, I’m not a waterbender. As I said, I’m just an onmyoji, and I just so happen to have an affinity for water. Though, from what I witnessed, you may have an affinity yourself.”

 

Kyo arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

 

“She means there is more than you than meets the eye.” Takamura joined the conversation from behind her bar, leaning on her forearms which seemed to cup her large breasts, gazing at them both. She produced a kiseru, a Japanese smoking pipe, from her dark hair which subsequently tumbled down from its bun, cascading down her back; Kyo realized she had been using the kiseru to keep her hair in place. She lit it and puffed languidly on it, exhaling copious clouds of smoke. "You wouldn’t happen to be a Transformer, would you?”

 

Kyo was laughing, but Hatsumomo was taken by surprise. “Takamura, it’s rather odd of you to make a joke. If I hadn’t been taught to believe none of what I hear and half of what I see, I’d almost think that you were capable of humour.”

 

“Oh, I’m quite capable of humour, Hatsumomo.” Inhaling deeply, she cast an unamused eye towards the girl. “Only few people seem to understand it, however. But that’s another topic for another time. What have you been up to? If this Kyo boy knows of your abilities as an onmyoji, I’m going to assume you actually had an encounter with that troublesome spirit. I should hope you were not showing off your techniques as a means with which to impress him into courting you.”

 

Hatsumomo and Kyo both blushed, though he did note that it looked cute on her. Hatsumomo caught his eye, before darting her gaze away. “N-No, I had no choice. We were attacked by the Kuchisake-Onna, he helped me to distract her while I imprisoned her within the Water Prison and Frozen Fortress mizudo techniques. She’s immobilized in a warehouse far from where any civilians could get to her. There’s no way she’s getting out, we’ve got her.”

 

Takamura nodded, acknowledging Hatsumomo’s work as acceptable. She puffed for a moment on her kiseru, taking a second to revel in it, before speaking.

 

“Did you learn anything from your experience today? It would hardly prove fruitful to do a task without learning the moral Aesop behind it.”

 

“Er…when fishing for spirits, use drunk boys as bait?”

 

Takamura cracked a smile. “’Assistance often comes in the most unusual of ways, and usually turns complete strangers into unwitting allies.’ But close enough. Did he help you at all?”

 

“Surprisingly, yes. He certainly seems to have the potential to become prodigious in the elemental arts. What I saw from him surprised me, if we’re still operating by the ‘believe none of what you hear and half of what you see’ rule. I’ll tell you more later.”

 

Takamura narrowed her eyes, eyebrows slanting as her dark eyes studied the boy before her. Rather abruptly, she switched tracks, still speaking to Hatsumomo.

 

“How's your sister?"

 

"I imagine she's alive and well, Takamura, though as isolated as ever. It's as though she doesn't care to acknowledge her only sibling, especially after we lost our parents several years ago." She gazed downward as she reflected, speaking almost as though to herself. "It's been nine years, Takamura, and still the pain does not lessen. I imagine I'd have to live with this for the rest of my life, Sayuri too. And yet, she does not reach out to her sister as I do to her. Why is that?" She ended her question with a sorrowful tone, one that made Kyo feel bad for her.

 

Takamura inhaled, exhaling smoke lazily through her fine nostrils. She gazed at Hatsumomo sagely. "Because different people handle the same problem differently. Some latch onto others more fiercely, others distance themselves. As alike as you are, you two are also equally different. You've reached out to her, attempting to strengthen your bond. She shies away, because she is not willing to lose anyone else she loves. Even if she has to lose you in the process to do it. She is feeling her own pain over this, so I'd leave her be if I were you. Should it be ordained that you two reconcile, it shall come to be. The pain does not lessen, but your ability to cope with it increases. Trust in no more than that."

 

"You always know what to say, Takamura." Hatsumomo smiled her gentle smile, one that Takamura returned. "Are you sure you're not a benevolent Kitsune?"

 

Takamura scoffed. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Hatsumomo. I still expect you to pay for sogging up my carpet and dripping over my premises." She waggled the kiseru threateningly. Hatsumomo knew better than to argue.

 

"Would I cheat you, Takamura-san?" Hatsumomo smiled innocently. Takamura snorted in response.

 

"You may feel that you're clever enough to get your way, Hatsumomo-chan, but I know you only use honourifics with me when you want something. Don't even try it. Not to mention you've got a tab to pay."

 

Hatsumomo frowned. Takamura was a tough lady, and one with an unbending will. There was no point in trying to convince her. And that tab was enormous...it would take forever to pay off.

 

"I'll pay it."

 

Hatsumomo turned to Kyo in surprise, her face one of pure shock. Who was he to pay her tab? He didn't even know her that well, and he was already doing her this kindness?

 

Takamura narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Kyo got up and pulled out his wallet, bringing several bills out of it. He placed them on the table, and Takamura swatted it away without batting an eye.

 

"I don't want your money." She waved him away dismissively, and he just stared at her bewildered. "I want hers."

 

"But-"

 

"Don't bother, Kyo," Hatsumomo interjected. "I know Takamura very well. She believes that people should pay their own things, take care of their own affairs, and settle their own debts. Self-sufficient to a fault, she's foreign to outside help and expects the same from her patrons." She chuckled. "Admirable, but old-fashioned."

 

"This is her debt to settle, boy," Takamura said bluntly, pointing her kiseru at him. "Hers and hers alone."

 

"But I paid you extra when I came here earlier and you said nothing about that!"

 

"That was for the advice and the lending of an ear. I've only got two, you know."

 

Hatsumomo laughed brightly. "That's Takamura for you, an opportunistic woman if there ever was one. Alright, then, Takamura. Deduct from my tab the pay for this Kuchisake-Onna job. I’m slowly working my way to freedom!"

 

The barkeep snorted. “You weren’t saying that nine years ago when I saved you from that wretched fate you had in store. I haven’t heard a single complaint these past nine years that you had a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and knowledge in your head.” Hatsumomo smiled sheepishly, not bothering to disagree " it was true, she was grateful that Takamura had taken her in.

 

Takamura turned to Kyo. "Where are you staying, Kyo?"

 

"With my older brother Kenji, he's out of town at the moment."

 

"Go upstairs and take the third room on the right. My bar also happens to be the bottom floor of my inn."

 

Kyo's eyes widened. "B-but why? I'm perfectly fine going home by mysel--"

 

"Not in this state, you're not. You may appear sober, but I know a drunk when I see one. Besides, you came back for your car keys, right?" She produced the keys from within the folds of her kimono sleeve. "You shan't be getting them until sunrise. Now go." And with that, she tossed the keys back up her sleeve as she brought her hands together, out of sight once more.

 

Kyo could do nothing but as she asked. Well, not necessarily asked, more so dictated. He was quickly getting to know what Hatsumomo meant by "typical Takamura."

 

Up the stairs he stumbled, unaware of the presence behind him. He paused halfway up, leaning against the railing to gather his bearings and catch a breath. He had almost died tonight. That seemed surreal to him " he had never really expected to be fallible to death this young, his life hadn’t even really started yet, even if he had experienced so much. Sighing, he composed himself before he remembered that he felt a presence, and turned around. No one was there. That seemed rather odd. Nevertheless, he continued his small trek up towards the rooms. It wasn't until he reached the top and turned to open the door did he realize that Hatsumomo had followed him, and strode into his room, turning on the light as she did so.

 

"W-what're you doing?" Kyo stuttered, perplexed by her boldness. Wasn't it inappropriate for men and women to share the same room to sleep?

 

"I live in this inn too, y’know. There's room for two."

 

"But it's not right for men and women to share the same roo-"

 

"Oh, lighten up, will you? We’re a married couple, right? It's not like we're obligated to do anything. What're you scared of?"

 

At the mention of a married couple, Kyo reddened immensely. 'What is she saying? Why is she taking this so lightly??'

 

The blush didn't escape her notice. "Oooh, is Kyo-kun embarrassed?" She chuckled at that, a playful sort of mirth exuding from her. "What's there to be embarrassed about? Listen, Kyo. Things are only as awkward as you make them. Don't go showing those lovely red cheeks of yours to every situation you encounter."

 

"I'm not embarrassed!" He avoided her gaze, his eyes darting around the room to distract him from the situation. He wasn't at his best right now, and she was making a fool of him. He didn't like that.

 

Looking around, he noticed a wall piece above the fireplace mantle. Two hooks stood out, and perched on them was a long, elegant sword. The pitch black sheath was elaborately designed, images of fantastically drawn, blood-red dragons soaring along unto the tip. The handle was wrought with what appeared to be gold, ornately crafted and gave forth a presence of great power and delicate appearance, a precarious yet masterful balance. Kyo stood there, almost transfixed by the sword. Hatsumomo followed his gaze, and seemed to feel the same way, letting out an awed gasp as she stared on " this room was usually locked, so she had never seen its contents. Silently, they began to approach it, hands stretched out to touch the handle. It had sharp ridges, which paradoxically made it seem hostile yet gave one ease of grip. Kyo's hand hesitantly neared the handle.

 

"Yamate!"

 

Kyo's hands stopped short of the blade, his head whipping around to face the owner of the voice. Hatsumomo did the same, and both cringed as a sharp, flickering light was cast upon them. The room was dark except for this light; Kyo realized somebody must've turned off the light. He figured Takamura did, with some sort of frugal attempt to save money in mind. He and Hatsumomo raised hands to their eyes, attempting to block out the flickering blaze in the oil lantern Takamura carried.

 

"What do you think you are doing?" Takamura's words were sharp, though not so much as her gaze. While her attractive face kept calm, Kyo could tell in the way that her eyebrows slanted and her tone that she was none too pleased.

 

"We were just looking at the sword. It's really interesting, I feel drawn to it. I was wondering if I could hav--"

 

"No. Go to bed."

 

"But I'll pay you a lot for it, I really need this swor--"

 

"It is not for sale. Go to bed."

 

Kyo realized his defeat. By the light of the lantern, he was able to find his way to the bed, Hatsumomo taking the bed across from his. Takamura's watchful eyes never left them for a moment until they were in bed. It was then she strode over to the sword hitched on the wall above the mantelpiece and removed it from its place holder, slinging it across her back. She made to leave the room, looking back once more at them and leaving some lingering words. 

"It's for the best if you do not touch this sword, Kyo. It is said that it was forged by a most cruel and vicious ancient demon spirit, and whosoever unsheathes it will succumb to its power and be doomed to slaughter all, strangers and loved ones alike, as punishment for daring to wield this demonic blade." She gave him an appraising look once more, her beautiful face impassive. "And it seems to me you've lost loved ones enough."

With that ominous warning, she strode from the room, taking the light with her and leaving Kyo to the darkness and his thoughts.