Chiyo rode the horse waiting outside the village. The night has already fallen, and she pivoted the horse towards a hidden place — a sacred grove where a crimson tree whispered secrets to the wind.
At the clearing, Chiyo dismounted and approached a moss-covered stone. It was a family grave, but beneath it is nothing but soil. It is empty — the body of her family was never recovered. Chiyo knelt, her fingers tracing the engraved characters — moonlight bathing the place, casting shadows like veils of sorrow.
Beloved — King Ryo — Queen Kiyoko.
There is one reason why after all these years, she'd never seek vengeance for her parents, nor confronted the king and claimed she was his sister. It isn't because she was a coward. No. There is more to that.
She needs answers. She seeks truth.
It's because there is a pit in her memory. It was so dark and deep, that whatever happened that night confuses her as well. Everything was like a play — a scheme or an act. She doesn't know. It was so hazy and confusing like someone has altered her memory.
She only remember glimpses or sometimes dreamt of that day, but it was never certain nor complete. It varies... the faces sometimes change. At first, it was her mother who killed Ryota, then the next it was her mother who gave her the dagger, begging her to run away.
Chiyo heaved a sigh, not wanting to remember anything at all. After paying her respect to the grave, she continued her journey home. It was a cold, and lonely night — the moon is her other companion, her guide through the dark night.
However, at the heart of the forest, where the pine trees sway gently, a foul stench assaulted their noses. Her loyal steed snorted, halting cause it can't take the putrid odor that clung to the air like a curse. Chiyo slid down her horse, her dagger gleaming as she drew it. Stealthily, she hid behind the thick body of a pine tree, eyes skillfully scanning the dim-lit forest — searching... waiting...
Emerging from the underbrush, the yokai revealed itself. It was a Nuppeppo, its form resembled a lump of dough — wrinkled and sagging. The creature is weak and gentle in nature so Chiyo took a step back, its hollow eyes were following her movement, its gelatinous body quivering. Nuppeppos had no mouth, nor visible means to attack, however, she has a feeling that it is no ordinary creature.
Harmless as it looks, but her instinct says otherwise.
The nuppeppo is acting weird, it was following her like its prey — the stench making her sick to the stomach. Chiyo wanted to puke, but the situation won't let her. She slowly stepped back, dagger still in her hand — glinting dangerously. The stinky yokai lunged, fast and swift, it clung to her left arm like mud, shifting — molding to her contours.
The touch was cold and gross. It prickled her skin and all of her hair almost stood up. Chiyo fought back, she twisted her arm, tearing the sleeves of her kimono, and plunged her dagger to the nuppeppo's heart. The blade sank, and the creature screamed, emitting a painful cry that echoed through the forest. Its green blood oozed, sticky and foul, enveloping her hand. She pushed the dagger deeper and the cries suddenly stopped, the creature shuddered, then dissolved — a puddle of green goo seeping through the snow.
Ayame took a step back, the yokai is dead but its smell lingers. It clung to her kimono and the blade of her dagger, it was so strong and gross that Chiyo wanted to pull out her skin just to remove the odor.
"Gross!" She exclaimed. "Why did it have to be in here?" She closed her eyes in disgust, thinking of a way to remove the smell.
It was a snowy night, the lakes and rivers are frozen, but there is one lake that never freezes because its waters are always warm, defying the chilly winter. The Kawasui lake. It was a mysterious lake that is guarded by a Kappa. No one ever sees the guardian, but they say it has been sleeping for centuries underneath the lake — never awaken.
She knows where it was. She once went there to wash.
Chiyo searched for her horse. It has somehow stayed and hid behind a group of trees. Pulling the reins, it obediently followed her while snorting from time to time. A reminder that she really smells.
Chiyo's lip tugged and she briefly glanced at her horse.
"Lucky for you, you're not the one who fought it." She said, earning another snort from it. "You're a sassy one, you know?"
She was able to easily find the lake thanks to her memory, and it wasn't that far from where they are. Chiyo left the horse near the lake to fend for itself and she started undressing. The kimono slid down her body, revealing a snow-white skin that glows under the moonlight. She stepped into the water. Her black hair, unbound, cascaded down her back mingling with the mist. The warmth seeped into her bones, it was refreshing, easing her fatigue, then she submerged herself, the heat enveloping her. The nuppeppo's odor dissolved, replaced by the flowery scent of the lake.
As she emerged, droplet clinging to her lashes, Chiyo felt something odd. The horse neighed loudly — calling to her, it hooves kicking the ground as if it was throwing a tantrum. Alerted, Chiyo approached the horse to get the towel on its saddle. She wrapped herself with it. She has no time to dress for she can sense the change in the atmosphere.
Danger lurks around.
Waiting. Baiting her.
Cautiously, she knelt down to reach for the dagger on the ground. The blade still stinks since she has not washed it yet. Looking around, she went for a defensive position — dagger upfront, and knees slightly bent.
She can sense them — their bloodlust. An intent to kill.
'One, two... Five...' Chiyo started counting in her head, and was surprised to know that there are lots of them.
Hiding in the shadows, it seems that assassins have surrounded her.