A procession of Yokai stretched for miles, connecting on the cliff to pay homage to Hoshiyo and her sacrifice. Hiroshiro ascended, the weight of his daughter's lifeless body upon his shoulders. Despite his sweat-soaked Yukata, the air carried not the spicy scent of his effort but the refreshing aroma of fresh pine.
Emerging into the clearing, Hiroshiro's gaze fell upon a monumental stone slab encircled by carefully arranged logs and twigs. Hanako's parents, standing beside it with a torch in hand, shared in his mourning for the departed daughter. Unseen to Hiroshiro, the Tanuki and Hoshiyo observed from the cliff's edge, and the Yokai congregation gathered for the farewell.
The air was heavy with melancholy, and a soft breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms. The trees that usually bloomed in Spring flowered for the funeral in late summer of 1657. They gently swayed in response as if the forest was mourning alongside him.
Approaching the stone slab, Hiroshiro delicately laid his daughter to rest. His whispered goodbyes hung heavy in the stillness as he kissed her forehead. Somehow, this felt like a permanent end to their chapter together.
The Tanuki, ears tilting back, eyes welled up in tears, whispered, "You don't have to witness this."
"We were each other's world, Tanuki. I have to see this through to the end," Hoshiyo replied.
"If you say so," The Tanuki replied, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.
Hiroshiro's mournful cries reverberated through the forest, bearing the weight of his pain in solitude. Clinging to his daughter like a stubborn blanket that won't come off, memories of laughter and shared moments flooded his mind.
Hiroshiro stepped back, indicating he was ready to let her go; with a torch in hand, Hanako's father approached the body and ignited the lumber. The flames danced and swayed, glowing warmly against the cold backdrop.
A tap on Hiroshiro's shoulder signaled the presence of Hanako's father, "We will leave you to it; we're sorry for your loss."
The young couple departed, leaving Hiroshiro to navigate his grief in solitude. As Hiroshiro lifted his head, witnessing the flames flicker and crackle, he sensed the form of the black Dire Wolf beyond the fire. Ensuring no one was within earshot, he questioned, "Is that you, Hoshiyo?"
"Hi, Daddy," Hoshiyo whimpered.
Overwhelmed, Hiroshiro exclaimed, "I don't understand. What's going on?"
The Tanuki revealed himself to Hiroshiro, bowing respectfully. Tanuki said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Hiroshiro."
Hiroshiro's expression twisted into a frown as he cried, "You killed my daughter. I'll never forgive you."
"That wasn't me, but that's beside the point. I understand this won't offer much reassurance, but she was chosen for her pure heart. The Kami desired someone with a heart untainted by malice," Tanuki explained.
"What could the Kami possibly want from her? She can't save the world; she's just a little girl," Hiroshiro argued, a sense of disbelief coloring his words.
Before Tanuki could respond, Hoshiyo interjected, "The Kami trusted me with traveling the world to help them in restoring balance. You're right; as a person, I can't do it. So, what if there were more of me?"
"Clones?" Hiroshiro questioned, his mind grappling with the idea.
"Yes," Hoshiyo cheered, her tail wagging with enthusiasm. "Create clones of me so that I can stay with you."
Hiroshiro turned to Tanuki, seeking approval, "Is that okay?"
"We won't know until you try," Tanuki replied with a shrug.
Excitement filled Hoshiyo as she perked her ears up, sensing an unusual disturbance in the forest. She observed the Yokai fleeing in a panic and noticed an eerie calmness among the trees. Whispering, she expressed her concern, "There's something wrong."
Tanuki frowned, scanning the surroundings, "I feel it too. What do you think it is?"
"I don't know," Hoshiyo admitted.
Suddenly, a restless mob of villagers emerged from the forest's shadows. Shouting voices filled the air, accusing Hiroshiro of negligence and spreading false tales of cruelty. Their faces contorted with wrinkles from frowning and screaming, painting a disturbing picture of resentment.
Caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, Hiroshiro struggled to comprehend the accusations hurled at him. He exclaimed, "What is this sudden rage against me? I have never harmed my daughter. She meant the world to me. How dare you accuse me at my daughter's funeral of all places where I'm mourning."
A male farmer from the village, gripping a hand-forged rusted knife with a curve designed for farming, raised his weapon and bellowed, "You don't have to lie to us. We know you threw your daughter off the cliff."
"What? No, that's insane," Hiroshiro cried out.
A female in the crowd added fuel to the fire, shouting, "Liar!"
Driven by misguided anger, the mob closed in, their shouts drowning out the gentle crackling of the funeral fire. Sweat drenched Hiroshiro's face as he raised his hands in a futile attempt to defend himself.
With a small plow, one villager struck Hiroshiro, causing him to fall back onto the ground, wincing in pain. Hiroshiro held out his arms defensively, pleading for them to stop. No one in the village came to his rescue or chose to show pity. It felt like he was alone in his predicament, but he wasn't.
From behind the flames, Hoshiyo's eyes glowed bright red. She yelled, "Leave my daddy alone!"
Standing up with legs spread out defensively, she released a blaring howl. Though unheard by humans, her voice brought a massive gust of wind that blew the flames out of the pit containing Hoshiyo's ashes. The wind whipped the fire, causing third-degree burns over the villager's bodies. Hoshiyo's echoing howl carried the fire straight through the forest, down to the village, and it spread quicker than anyone could form a thought. Those who survived screamed in horror, scrambling or crawling back down the mountain.
Hiroshiro turned his head, mirroring his daughter's wide-eyed reaction. Her ears flattened on her head, and her mouth dropped in shock at witnessing the unintended havoc she had wreaked, but at least her father was unharmed.
The Tanuki, panic-stricken, whispered, "What did you do?"
Hoshiyo stumbled on her words, saying, "I don't know, I didn't mean to. How was I supposed to know?"
In pain from the blows he endured, Hiroshiro pleaded, "Hoshiyo, help me."
With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Hoshiyo sprinted to her father for the first time. She bit down on his arm, managing to throw him onto her back. The Tanuki, running on four legs beside her, caught up and exclaimed, "Wait for me."
Lying on her back in pain, Hiroshiro urged, "We have to get to the house, or I'll lose everything."
Trees stood as torches, and the underbrush transformed into a sea of embers. Hoshiyo sprinted down the mountain, her powerful legs propelling them forward. Every stride became a leap of desperation, navigating the treacherous terrain while ensuring her father's safety. Panicked animals, driven by the same instinct for survival, raced alongside them on all sides. Squirrels darted between branches, birds took flight, and deer bounded through the undergrowth, seeking refuge from the impending disaster.
Realizing there was no time to contemplate, Hoshiyo had to decide quickly to leave the forest to help her father escape. He was her only hope, and she had to save him. Her eyes darted left and right, searching for a path through the labyrinth of burning trees. The wind carried embers, creating pockets of intense heat that threatened to engulf them.
Emerging at the outskirts of the endangered zone, they burst through the final veil of smoke. Hoshiyo, breathing heavily, gently set Hiroshiro down, and their eyes met in a silent acknowledgment of their shared survival. The animals dispersed into the surrounding safety, leaving Hoshiyo and her father to witness the devastation that had narrowly missed consuming everything they held dear.