"What a jerk!" Heavenly-Autumn hissed under her breath, skidding to a stop as if the words themselves had tripped her. Then she blinked, exhaled, and—strangely—added the moment to her mental bucket list anyway. " I hope I never see him again! I cannot stand that jerk!"
With both hands, she grabbed the edges of her kimono, fingers digging into the floral stitching, and let out a dramatic scream that startled a few birds from the nearby trees. It echoed down the path and, when it finally faded, so did the tight knot in her chest.
Her shoulders loosened. Her cheeks warmed. She hadn't realized she could feel so many things at once—anger, relief, courage, a spark of proud stubbornness. If she'd stayed in her hometown, she would've never come this far.
She inhaled again, tasting cool evening air, and noticed a temple ahead—quiet, waiting, tucked into the trees like a secret. The sun was beginning to dip, turning everything gold, and it took her a while to reach it.
The stone steps felt endless, as if they'd been designed to test anyone's determination. Still, she climbed, one step after another, until the shrine gates rose before her. At the top, she closed her eyes, clapped her hands together, and prayed to the heavens with everything she had.
"God, please let me find a cure for this disease—and let me live happily," she murmured, voice small against the vast stillness. "I understand I have a purpose in this world. And… I know this is selfish, but I want humans and demons to live together as one. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday." Her fingers tightened as if holding onto the wish itself. "Please let me finish my bucket list. Please let me learn more skills. Help me become a little stronger. And if I can't find a cure in this lifetime… then please, let my life mean something. Let it be a reason this everlasting war finally ends." She bowed her head, whispering the last words like a promise, and stayed there a moment longer, listening for an answer in the wind.
"Oh—um, I didn't see you there!" a child's voice piped up. A little girl stepped into view, sweeping fallen leaves into a neat pile beside the temple. She paused mid-swish, eyes wide with polite surprise. "Auntie, why did you come here to pray? What did you pray about?" she asked, curiosity bubbling out as fast as the broom moved.
Heavenly-Autumn's stern expression melted at the sight of those pigtails bobbing like little springs. She smiled and gently patted the girl's head. "World peace," she said with absolute seriousness, as if it were the most obvious request in the world. The little girl's eyes lit up so brightly it was like someone had struck a match inside them—like she'd just found a hero in the middle of an ordinary evening.
"Be sure to close up, okay? Little one," Heavenly-Autumn added, her voice turning soft and affectionate. "It can get pretty scary at night."
The moment Heavenly-Autumn lifted her hand away, the girl grabbed it with both of hers as if she might float away. "Auntie, please stay the night! We have a spare room for you!" She tugged insistently, tiny fingers surprisingly strong. "Please?"
Heavenly-Autumglanced at the darkening sky, then back at the hopeful face staring up at her. A tired laugh slipped out, warm and resigned. "I guess one night won't hurt," she said.
The little girl was playful and bright, digging through old wooden boxes until she unearthed dusty puzzles and games to share with Heavenly-Autumn. When her parents came in to greet their guest, Heavenly-Autumn bowed politely. "I'm sorry for the intrusion. Please allow me to stay for just one night," she said, lowering her head with careful respect.
"Any friend of our daughter is a friend of ours," the girl's mother replied warmly. Her father nodded. "Please, make yourself at home."
"Thank you kindly," Heavenly-Autumn answered.
The welcome eased the tension in her shoulders. The little girl took Heavenly-Autumn by the hand and tugged her down the hall, eager to show her the spare room. Later, as they played dress-up and giggled over neatly folded fabrics,Heavenly-Autumn's eyes widened. "Where did you get all these kimonos?" she asked, awed by the fine stitching and rich colors.
Then the girl's smile faltered. In the paper-screened doorway, two shadows slid away—her parents' silhouettes moving down the corridor. The child's grip tightened until it hurt. "Auntie… please save me," she whispered.
Heavenly-Autumn blinked, startled. "Little one… what do you mean?"
"Those demons aren't my parents!" the girl choked out, clutching the bedsheets with trembling fists. "They said if I didn't lure you here, they'd eat me." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "But… you look stronger than the others. Please—please save me and take me back to my real mommy and daddy." She sobbed, shaking hard.
Heavenly-Autumn's heart dropped. She pulled the child close and stroked her hair, forcing her voice to stay gentle. "There, there. It'll be alright, okay?" she murmured, though fear crawled up her spine at the memory of the village elder's warning: Demons can be calculating. Manipulative. Vicious. She held the girl tighter, as if her arms alone could keep the night out. "Everything will be okay," she said again—this time, to steady herself as much as the child.