The passage went on. And on. And on. If they weren't already broken, bruised, and humiliated by a flock of possessed demon-birds, this winding intestine of a tunnel would've done the job just fine.
It stank. Not the kind of stench you could wave away with your hand or hold your breath through. No. This was a mature stink. A legendary stink. The kind of aroma that clung to your soul and whispered to your ancestors in shame.
Moss squished beneath their boots. The walls pulsed with a wet, unpleasant warmth. Moisture dripped from above—too thick to be just water. Every few feet, a slop of sludgy slime would greet them from the ceiling like a passive-aggressive blessing.
Ereshan gagged for the third time. "This place smells like something died, came back to life, regretted it, then died again."
Hajime held a sleeve over his face. "It's like walking through a dead tengu's armpit."
"Correction," Mizuchi added, kicking aside a puddle of green goo. "Like walking through a dead tengu's armpit after it laid an omelette."
"Oh gods," Ereshan nearly retched. "Don't say omelette."
"What?" Hajime blinked innocently. "You don't want some 'Karasutengu Scramble'? I hear it's crunchy."
Mizuchi smirked. "Served with a side of trauma."
They laughed—miserable, half-broken laughter, the kind that kept despair from chewing their sanity apart. Even if every step felt like their limbs might fall off.
"Do you think this tunnel was… built?" Ereshan asked after a long, squelching silence. "Or did something just crawl through here for so long it made its own way?"
"Neither option comforts me," Mizuchi replied grimly.
Hajime glanced at the walls, his face lit faintly by the glow of the stone Ereshan now cradled like a cursed baby. "No carvings. No structure. Just… rot. Like the guts of something that never died."
Ereshan shivered. "I swear the walls are breathing."
They were. Slowly. Just enough to make the hairs rise on their arms.
"Maybe this is something," Mizuchi muttered. "Not a tunnel. A thing. We're inside something. Or someone."
"…I changed my mind. I want the birds back," Hajime whispered.
Just then, something slick slithered over Hajime's boot. He yelped and kicked instinctively, sending a fat, glistening centipede flying into a wall where it popped with a wet splatch.
They all froze. Something in the distance… moved. A long, dragging, sucking sound echoed faintly from ahead. Not fast. Not rushing. But there. Patient. Waiting.
"…Okay," Ereshan whispered, clutching the stone tight. "We walk faster now."
"Agreed," Mizuchi said.
They moved, limbs sore, lungs burning, hearts pounding—not from exertion, but from the sense that they were being watched. Not from the outside. From the walls. They ran like hell was boiling behind them.
Over slick stones, under hanging roots, dodging fallen bones and slimy tentacles of who-knows-what, the trio thundered through the stinking corridor of cursed guts and demon-fertilizer. Every corner threatened to end in a dead end—or worse, another "Karasutengu Omelette."
Then came the hiss. They skidded to a stop. A massive serpent lay ahead—scales black as oil, eyes gold and hungry. It stretched across the path like a living barricade, tongue flicking the air with slow menace.
"Anyone wanna try talking to it?" Hajime asked.
Ereshan laughed nervously. "Sure, I'll just whisper sweet nothings while it swallows my head."
Mizuchi raised a hand. "I could distract it—"
THWIP. Something zipped through the air and thunked hard into the ground—an arrow, sleek and sharp, burying itself between Mizuchi's foot and Ereshan's boot.
They froze. All three slowly turned around. And there, at the mouth of the tunnel behind them, framed by drifting spores and shafts of ghostly light—She stood. A girl.
Silky black hair in a messy bun, wild strands framing her porcelain face. Deep eyes that screamed "don't test me," even as they sparkled with a strange, youthful light. She wore a half-robed kimono—mini skirted and criminally short—with a belt of arrows strapped across her thigh and a short yumi bow in hand, still smoking from the last shot.
Her pose? One hand on hip. One brow raised. Feet apart. Dangerous. Deadly. And just... devastatingly cute.
"Don't move," she said in a melodic voice that somehow still carried the force of a blade to the throat.
Silence. Total, tense silence. Then—"…Okay but who is she, and why do I feel like I just got stabbed in the soul?" Ereshan whispered sideways.
Hajime nodded slowly. "I dunno, but I'm willing to apologize for anything if she asks."
"Even if we didn't do it?" Mizuchi added.
"Especially if we didn't do it."
The girl scowled, pulling another arrow from her hip. "You three are trespassing," she said. "This passage is sealed. No humans, no yokai, no weirdos with cursed stones allowed."
Ereshan gulped. "We didn't mean to trespass. We were thrown here by demon birds."
She blinked. "…Birds?"
"Giant ones," Hajime nodded. "With faces like my nightmares and poop that smells like crime."
Her eyes narrowed, but her bow dipped slightly. "You're the ones the Kami spoke of, aren't you? The ones heading to Takamagahara's remains."
Mizuchi lifted a hand cautiously. "Yes… And you are?"
The girl sighed, lowering her bow entirely. "Name's Kiku. I guard this passage so things don't leave, not so idiots like you come in."
She stepped closer now, her boots splashing softly in the muck. "And no," she added, flicking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I don't care if I'm cute. Try flirting and I shoot your other foot."
All three fell instantly silent again. But Ereshan couldn't help whispering to Hajime, "I wasn't gonna flirt."
"You thought about it," Hajime whispered back.
"I always think about it."
Kiku groaned, already regretting everything. "Let's get this over with. If you're meant to continue, I'll lead you. But you touch anything slimy, you walk behind me. Got it?"
They froze. Utter silence reigned as the deadly arrow-wielding beauty stood before them in her scandalously-short kimono and fierce "I-will-end-you" glare.
Then—"Okay, seriously," Ereshan whispered, "who put her in charge?"
"I dunno," Hajime muttered back. "But whoever did is clearly blind to the real option."
"What option?"
"She doesn't need to guard the gate," Hajime said, wide-eyed. "She needs to be guarded in bed. Preferably by me."
"Excuse you?" Mizuchi raised a brow. "I have way more innocent charm for her type."
"Innocent charm?? You're literally a child!" Ereshan barked.
"I'm ageless!" Mizuchi shot back. "You don't even know my lore!"
Kiku squinted, arrow twitching in her grip. "Are you three arguing about me in front of me?"
"Technically, behind your back," Hajime offered helpfully.
She turned her head sharply. "What?"
"Anyway," Ereshan cut in, ignoring the death stare, "How about this—whoever kisses her first wins, loser carries the stone for the rest of the trip."
"Deal," Hajime and Mizuchi said in unison.
Kiku's hand hovered toward her quiver.
Ereshan nudged Mizuchi. "Ten paces. On three. One… two…"
KrrrRSHHHHHHHHHH. The wall behind Kiku exploded in a cascade of dust, slime, and prehistoric stench. The snake had returned. But not angry. No.
It slithered calmly—almost regally—toward the girl. Its body coiled around her legs in a protective embrace, rising up behind her like a monstrous throne, its forked tongue flicking lazily as if daring anyone to breathe wrong. The boys stopped mid-bet.
"…Is that snake… hugging her?" Hajime asked.
"It's cuddling." Ereshan said, blinking.
"That's worse."
The snake gently bumped its massive head against Kiku's cheek. She giggled—giggle-giggled. Like a cute squirrel just gave her a flower.
She turned to them, one eyebrow up, arms casually folded. "Yes. He's my friend."
"…Your friend??" Mizuchi's voice cracked.
She gave the snake an affectionate pat. "Meet Jōrengumo. He's my familiar. We've been together since I was eight. He raised me."
Ereshan blinked. "THE SNAKE RAISED YOU?"
"Where were your parents?" Hajime asked.
Kiku shrugged. "They tried to sacrifice me to a yokai swamp when I was five. He ate them."
There was a very long silence. The trio nodded respectfully. "Okay," Mizuchi whispered, "I'm gonna cross her off the kiss list."
"Agreed," Ereshan said. "I enjoy living."
Jōrengumo hissed, eyes narrowing with glee. Kiku stood firm with her snake coiled beside her, still emanating the aura of a deadly shrine maiden… until she grinned.
"Oh, right," she said sweetly, tilting her head with mock innocence. "Didn't you three brave warriors say something about kissing me?" She mimicked Ereshan's voice with disturbing accuracy. "Or was it laying me in bed instead of putting me on guard duty?"
The trio blinked. Before they could stammer out a denial, she casually shrugged her arms free—her robe slipping off like a forgotten curtain.
Now she stood in just a cropped, tightly-fitted black tank top, the neckline low enough to challenge moral resolve, her toned arms and exposed armpits catching the soft, mossy light filtering from above. Her mini skirt barely moved, swaying with her teasing steps as she walked toward them.
She raised two fingers to her lips, kissed them, and flicked the kiss their way. "So…" She smiled, playful and absolutely lethal. "Who wants to breed me?"
Dead. Silence. Not a bird chirped. Not a drop fell. Ereshan stared at his boots like they were suddenly made of gold. Hajime's eyes darted around for divine intervention.
Mizuchi just whispered to himself, "I have no thoughts. Head empty. Please save me, river prince."
Then—all three, in perfect sync, bowed their heads low.
"Nope," Ereshan muttered.
"Nope," Hajime echoed.
"I want to live," Mizuchi added.
Kiku snorted and crossed her arms, amused. "Wow. Talk big, run faster than rabbits when it gets real."
Behind her, Jōrengumo hissed long and slow. A reminder.
"Yeah, no thanks," Ereshan said to the ground. "That snake eats yokai. What hope do we have?"
"I don't want to be swallowed with love," Hajime mumbled.
"I just want to find the rest of the stone," Mizuchi sighed.
Kiku turned, satisfied. "Good boys."
Then, casually, she pulled her robe back up—though not quite tying it, just letting it hang off one shoulder. Jōrengumo wrapped around her waist like a belt, gleaming eyes daring any of them to look up.
Ereshan whispered, "New rule: no more bets about women we don't know."
"Seconded," Hajime said.
"Unanimous," Mizuchi groaned.
Kiku turned around, humming. "Let's go, lovebirds. This passage leads to the Temple of Forgotten Flames. Hope your hearts are fireproof."
The three boys, thoroughly humbled and slightly traumatized, followed behind—silently agreeing: never flirt with a girl who has a pet predator.