As the night deepened, torches flickered around the edge of a military camp nestled between the woods and a cliffside. Caged wagons lined the perimeter, packed with the hollow-eyed dead — their mouths barely moving, black smoke still curling from their sockets.
Nearby, inside a fortified tent, Sachiko and Kibo sat with their wrists bound, tied to opposite corners of the camp. A canvas separated them from the caged corpses — and a handful of careless guards sitting around a fire just outside.
Their conversation drifted in through the cloth walls.
"I want to take my wife and kids into the capital," one soldier muttered, poking at the fire.
"You'll need a pass," another said. "The city's full. Ministry's only letting through who they approve — anyone else would just flood the streets. The wall's the only thing keeping us alive now."
"Still," a younger soldier whispered, "why build the corpse pit so close to the capital? What happens if they get out?"
"They won't," came the reply. "That pit is layered with stone, talismans, and soldiers. No dead is getting out of there. Now come on — we need to be ready before General Akechi gets back."
The voices faded as the guards wandered off.
Kibo tugged at the ropes on his wrist, wincing. "We need one of those passes if we're going to get inside the capital," he said quietly. "There might be some in this camp. If we can just steal one…"
Sachiko glanced over at him. "Why do you think they even captured us?"
Kibo hesitated, then sighed. "Probably because they recognized me. I was supposed to die in that fire. But here I am… alive. Maybe they think sacrificing me will fix all this, or they found out about us or what we saw."
He looked down, guilt darkening his expression.
"I'm sorry you got dragged into this. You've already suffered more than anyone should."
Sachiko was quiet for a moment. Then her voice came low and cold.
"So you did see my memories."
Kibo nodded, slowly.
She looked at him. "He didn't take me because of you. I killed half a village. Monks, too. They'll probably execute me for murder anyway."
She glanced toward the Naginata out beside the weapons rack.
"Maybe they used that blade to figure out who I was," she said. "I was a fool. My whole life, he taught me control. Find peace. But when they came for me, I let myself fall to anger. I let my rage consume me. I killed them."
Her voice cracked.
"He gave his life so I could live. But I wasted it. I thought… I thought I was strong. But all I did was use him."
She turned to face Kibo, her eyes raw.
"I made a mistake and let the person I cared about die. I won't make that mistake again."
She clenched her fists.
"We're going to save Yuki. No matter what. That's a promise."
Kibo met her gaze.
For the first time since they met, they didn't look at each other with suspicion — only understanding.
Their pasts were stained.
But they were still here.
Together.
Just outside the camp, unseen in the shadows beyond the tree line, Hiroshi crouched low in the mud, eyes narrowed.
His bow was slung over his shoulder.
The crimson blade gleamed faintly in the moonlight at his side.
He had followed the trail.
He had seen the cages.
And now… he was ready.
Hiroshi moved like a shadow beneath the moonlight, his body blending with the tall grass and tents. All his years hunting in the mountains had trained him for this he cut the rope that had bells to alert the soldier he cut it easily. Not a single sound escaped him. Not a breath. Not a rustle.
He slid past the guards unnoticed, weaving through campfires and patrol routes with precise timing.
Then he saw it—Sachiko's Naginata.
It was leaning against a weapons rack, guarded by two soldiers deep in conversation. He narrowed his eyes. Not now. First, the others.
He crept closer to the cages.
Kibo and Sachiko sat tied in the back of a makeshift cell. Sachiko's posture had changed—calmer, more focused. The moment she saw him, her lips curved in a faint smile.
"You came," she said softly.
Kibo looked up, surprised. "You had the chance to leave… to disappear. Why come back?"
Hiroshi whispered as he cut their bindings with a small blade, "Leave you here? And bring your corpses back to Yuki alone? No. I made a promise too."
The ropes fell to the ground just as a soldier outside shouted, "The alarm ropes! Someone cut them!"
Another guard joined him, "Search the camp! Check the prisoners!"
Kibo tensed. "We're out of time."
"My Naginata is still here," Sachiko said, eyes darting toward the guarded rack.
"We'll come back for it," Hiroshi hissed. "Not now. They're alert. We move. I know a way out."
Without another word, the trio slipped into the night, melting into the dark trees as chaos erupted behind them.
The trio ran through the trees, breath heavy, foot splashing through shallow mud. The sound of guards shouting behind them faded with each step, the night swallowing their escape.
But suddenly—Hiroshi stopped.
He didn't speak. He didn't move. He just stood there, staring down at the length of fabric wrapped around his arm.
Sachiko was the first to notice. She slowed, then walked back to him, concern soft in her voice.
"Hiroshi… what's wrong?"
He said nothing at first.
Just gripped the obi — the tattered ribbon he used to tie his sister's dress, now wound tightly around his wrist.
Kibo turned back too, brows furrowing as he saw them standing still in the dark. He jogged over, eyes scanning Hiroshi's expression.
Finally, Hiroshi spoke — voice low, cracked.
"I woke up and followed the tracks… but I passed a place. A mountain. A bend in the trees. It was home."
He took a shallow breath.
"I went to see them. I had food. I thought I could feed them this time... but when I entered my house… my mom… my dad…"
His voice caught.
"I..I saw them but they were."
Before he could finish, Sachiko stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him — firm, steady, silent.
Kibo hesitated only a moment before joining them.
And there they stayed.
Three broken souls in a world that kept tearing everything away from them. They had lost family. Lost time. Lost innocence. But in that moment — they had each other.
And for just a heartbeat, the chaos faded. The screams, the curses, the soldiers, the yokai — all of it disappeared.
There was only warmth.
There was only grief.
There was only a promise they didn't speak aloud — but all three understood.
As they caught their breath beneath the cover of the trees, Hiroshi looked down at the crimson blade at Kibo's hand. His knuckles were pale.
"My sister…" he began, voice barely above a whisper. "Her eyes... they were hollow. Filled with black smoke."
He paused, struggling to say the rest.
"I didn't want to do it. But I had no choice. I used this sword on her. And when I did… the smoke left her. Her body dissolved. Only her dress remained."
His grip tightened.
"But before she vanished… she thanked me. She said I freed her."
Sachiko's gaze slowly drifted from his face to the blade.
"That sword…" she said quietly. "It might be able to free trapped souls."
She turned to Kibo. "Where did you get it?"
Kibo looked at them, trying to remember where he got it from. "I… stole it. From an oni."
Sachiko's eyes widened slightly. "Now it makes sense. Every yokai we've killed with that sword — they emitted something. Like black mist. Just like Hiroshi's sister. We let their soul escape."
"This sword," she said slowly, "could be the key. Maybe it can help us fix this curse."
"We could give it to the Shogun," she added. "Use it to trade for Yuki. Maybe it's the key to stop all of this before it gets worse."
Kibo frowned. "Even if we wanted to, we'd need a pass to enter the capital. You heard the guards — the city's on lockdown. We go back now, we're dead."
"I have a plan," Hiroshi said, suddenly calm.
Kibo and Sachiko looked at Hiroshi
"Just trust me," Hiroshi said faintly. "Kibo, you'll distract the guards. Make some noise. Be reckless."
"What are you getting at," Kibo muttered.
"While you do that," Hiroshi continued, "I'll unlock the cages and release the dead. That should stir things up."
Sachiko's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll slip in, grab my Naginata and the entry pass, and get out while the chaos keeps them busy."
Kibo raised a brow. "You sure this will work."
"But it might just work," Sachiko added. "We can't afford hesitation anymore."
The three stared at each other.
And then — slowly — they nodded.
No doubt. No fear. Just trust.
For the first time, they moved as one.
Meanwhile, back at the soldier camp…
General Satoshi stood near the center, holding Sachiko's Naginata in both hands. His expression was unreadable. The blade still gleamed, untouched by dirt or blood.
Soldiers hurried past him, searching the outskirts of the forest, tense and alert.
The canvas tents flapped in the wind.
And then — General Akechi entered the camp, his face sour with frustration.
"There's chaos in the capital," he growled. "The Shogun is barely holding it together. The Ministry's breathing down his neck. Then you send for me — out of nowhere. What is it, Satoshi?"
General Satoshi looked up slowly.
And for the first time in a while, he almost smiled.
"We found her."