The shining moon, the rushing wind, and the streetlights blinking by were her companions tonight. The motorcycle's growl faded to a rumble as she came to a stop, and then silence. This was a modest house in a quieter neighborhood on the edge of the city, away from the bustle of downtown. Flicking her scarf back over her shoulder, she brought out her phone to confirm again. This was the location.
A sharp knock on the door. A pair of older adults were the ones to answer. As soon as the door cracked open, she could see equal parts concern and apprehension before the expected polite neutrality covered it up.
"Hello," said the man. The first wrinkles were beginning to betray his age. "You are�"
"Asayuki," said the stranger. "We agreed to meet at this time?"
"Oh!" Memory and surprise flashed across his face at the same time. "My apologies, I didn't expect you to be the shrine maiden."
High dark metallic boots that almost resembled greaves, with some sort of holster belted to her thigh filling the space between them and the dark red skirt. Her matching denim jacket was left open over a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off her fingerless gloves and the numerous belts covering her forearms. The ends of her scarf, otherwise a bright crimson red, were faded dark and tattered.
Nestled in long white hair tipped with pale red, just above her ears, were two small red headpieces. The left piece alone bore a wing-like extension that wrapped the curve of her head, and both framed the face of a stern, serious young woman. Add to that the tall bag slung over her back and if anything, she looked as far as it got from a shrine maiden. Stark against it all were her eyesâstriking icy blue, their color just as intense as their gaze.
"Please, come in," said the wife. "Our son is sleeping right now."
"If you would take me to see him." Asayuki crossed the threshold into the house, sparing her surroundings a cursory glance on her way through.
"He's doing well right now," the wife continued, leading their guest upstairs, "but that changes so quickly. It's always around this timeâ¦"
The husband nodded. "We don't know what else to do. The doctors have no explanation. Every medicine we tried only made it worseâor it only managed to leave him bedridden like he is now. If this doesn't workâ¦"
"I read your case thoroughly." Asayuk's voice was even and controlled. "I will do all that is possible."
The child stirred as his door opened and his parents entered with an unfamiliar lady. "Mom, Dad," he said. "Who's that?"
"Her name is Asayuki-san," said the father. "She's here to make the bad things stop happening."
"Will you?" Wide eyes brimming with hope and fear found hers. "It's really scary when it happens. It feels like everything is endingâ¦" The teddy bear flopped as his arms tightened around it. "And I can't help what happens. It feels really terrible, on the inside, but not like a headache or a stomach acheâI'd do anything to make it stop. Can you really stop it, miss?"
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Asayuki's expression darkenedâbut only for a single step. She set down her bag and rummaged through it to procure a small bowl, a pestle and mortar, and several small bags of dried herbs and powders. The parents watched anxiously as she mixed them together, going through her bag for other tools they couldn't recognize before dropping them back in faster than they knew had happened.
"Drink this." Asayuki placed the small bowl into the child's hands, now filled with a dark liquid. "It's bitter, but it will help you sleep."
"This will make me better?" he asked.
"It will make it easier for me to make you better."
He stared at the bowl. The contents warmed his hands through the bowl. He closed his eyes, braced himself, and drank the bitter concoction as quickly as he could.
"Good boy." Asayuki's inflection was nothing but flat as she pressed a small cup of water into his hands. "Wash it down and sleep. That's all you need to do."
The clock on the wall ticked the time away as she set to the bulk of her work. By her request, the parents stepped outside to await the outcome. The air filled with the smell of burning incense as the young boy laid down to rest. Asayuki returned to her bag again and again, setting up everything she needed.
Twin mirrors now rested on his nightstands. Small stones surrounded a large pentagram of salt at the foot of the bed, dominating the space in the room. Candles and incense lined the walls. Asayuki opened the pouch on her thigh and drew from it an ofuda talisman⦠and another attached to it, and another, all inscribed successively on a single continuous page folded countless times. She bustled back and forth in the small room. The windows, the door to the closet, the door to the hallway, even the air ventsâall but one entrance received a strip of seals.
The bedroom had a bathroom attached to it, with another door opening from the washroom to the hallway. The parents watched without questioning as Asayuki filled the bathtub and sink alike with water, put up more ofuda on the hallway door and the window, and then closed the hall door. The lock turned.
Asayuki looked again at the bathroom. The bedroom and bathroom had access to each other and nothing else. Every other entrance and exit was covered. She nodded to herself and returned to the bedroom. The young boy turned over in his bed. She turned out the lights, brought her bag with her to the opposite side of the pentagram, lowered herself into a kneeling sitâseiza, as she'd been drilled to doâand waited.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock continued to count the passing seconds. Asayuki remained still, her eyes closed, but not resting. The dots of light burned their way along the incense sticks. The candles drooped. The child's restless turning stopped and his breathing turned deep and even. Moonlight shone through the windows, casting its rays into the dark room.
Tick. Tick. Tiâ
Asayuki opened her eyes.
Several of her candles and incense were no longer lit. The mirrors ceased to show her own reflection, instead revealing the back of their metal casings. The clock's second hand hung suspended between the end of one day and the following midnight. The pentagram was disassembled into a meaningless shape, blown about by a wind that never existed.
Crack. Crack. One⦠twoâthree of the nineteen stones ruptured.
A good result. The inner pattern was disturbed but the salt circle was intact. Asayuki was pleased to see the stones were all halves, no uneven fractures. Seems she overprepared tonight. That was fine with her; now she knew this would be a simple operation.
Asayuki lifted her katana from within the long bag and stood.
It was encased in a white and black sheath, mechanical and grooved. Dim red light glowed through the lines running along the scabbard. Tangled in the belts with it came a short tanto sheathed in simple wood.
Only now did she place a single ofuda on the bathroom door. As soon as her fingers parted from the paper, the room darkened. Asayuki glanced over her shoulder. The moon had turned its gaze away behind the cover of a sudden cloud. The trees on the other side of the windows waved without a blowing wind. Their leafless branches better resembled long spidery fingers than any plant.
She opened the door.