Chapter 13- The calm before the storm

Sachiko looked up at the sky.

I have to move.If I don’t go now… one of them might die.

She clenched her jaw — then suddenly looked down and shouted:

“Hiroshi! Now!”

From above, Hiroshi leaped into the air, his bow already drawn. An arrow flew, striking a soldier through the chest as he landed beside her. Sachiko spun her naginata in a wide arc, slashing through the first wave of soldiers as the two of them fought side by side.

Steel clashed. Screams echoed.

They fought like they had nothing left to lose.

Then — Satoshi stepped into the battlefield, blade drawn.

“Just listen to me!” he yelled. “It’s for the—”

“Hiroshi!” Sachiko barked, cutting him off. “Take care of the rest!”Without hesitation, Hiroshi nodded and charged at the remaining soldiers.

Sachiko turned to face Satoshi alone.

Their weapons met with a loud clang. Sparks flew as naginata and katana locked and slid.

She was tired. Her limbs burned. Her vision blurred from fatigue and grief. But she couldn’t fall here. Not now.

If she lost now, Kibo could die. Her brother could die.

She gritted her teeth and pressed forward.

Satoshi blocked another strike. “Just listen and stay! You don’t have to fight me!”

“I do,” she growled.

She swept his legs from under him. He hit the ground with a grunt, and before he could rise, her naginata was already pressed to his face.

Breathing hard, she stared down at him.

He didn’t fight back.

“So… you’re going to kill me now?” he asked quietly.

Sachiko shook her head. “No. But I won’t let you stop me from saving them.”

She pulled the blade back and called out, “Hiroshi!”

“I’m done!” Hiroshi shouted, bloodied but breathing. “They went that way!”

Without another word, Sachiko ran — fast, heart pounding, lungs burning.

Behind her, Satoshi slowly rose to his knees.

“You’ll lose both of them if you go,” he called after her. “You’ll lose everything!”

But she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

She had to be fast — faster than fate.

As Kibo sprinted through the dense forest, weaving between trees, his lungs burned and his legs screamed in protest. Behind him, soldiers shouted — drawing closer.

He pushed harder.

Just a little farther…

But then — everything changed.

The woods vanished.

The earth beneath his feet turned to black nothingness. The air thickened, and a silence fell — unnatural and absolute. It was like stepping into a void.

Then… a voice echoed.

Soft. Icy. Familiar.

“I doubted at first but you are worthy of my granddaughter after all.”

Kibo’s breath caught.

He looked up — and saw her.

The flower-masked woman, staring at him from upside down, her body suspended like a spider in her web.

Kibo stepped back, stunned. “You… what are you doing here?”

She tilted her head, eyes unreadable behind the petals. “Just came to check up on you. I’m… surprised you’re still fighting.”

Kibo clenched his fists. “Was it you? After that nightmare… did you put us back in the real world?”

The woman giggled, a cold and floral sound.

“Both worlds are real. You just prefer this one.”

Kibo’s eyes narrowed. “Then what was that place? Hell? Heaven?”

She laughed again — louder this time, almost childlike.

“There is no such thing as hell or heaven. That place is as real as this one.”

Kibo’s voice dropped. “Those cursed dead… the ones screaming in pain. That was your doing, wasn’t it?”

She looked at him.

And smiled.

Dead. Empty.

“Yes.”

Kibo’s throat tightened. “But why?”

Her voice grew distant. “Because they took something from me.”The world shifted.

It no longer felt like memory — more like a painting in motion.

We saw her, the flower-masked woman, walking through a silver mist. She crossed into the mortal world. Her face curled with disgust as she observed humanity. Their noise. Their greed.

She had no interest in them.

She unleashed yokai into their realm — curses in the form of monsters — to punish and remind them what fear felt like.

But one day…

She changed.

A memory without words.

She walked through a sunlit grove, wearing golden robes, radiant like a goddess.

There, she saw a man.

Helping an old couple carry firewood.

Simple. Kind.

She felt something shift inside her — something she hadn’t felt in ages.

Curiosity. Warmth. Maybe even love.

She followed him.

When he slept.

When he chopped trees.

And when a wolf attacked him in the forest — she saved him.

It was love at first sight.

Time passed. They had two daughters.

She gave him a necklace — two red beads.

A token of peace. Of family.

But happiness never lasts.

One crimson evening, while walking her baby, fire spread across the village.

The sky bled.

She hid her child in a haystack and ran into the flames.

We shift into first-person. Just like the women we saw in chapter 1

Her breath heavy. Her heart racing. Her vision distorted by smoke.

She opened a burning door — and inside, saw the man she loved and her older daughter, lifeless on the ground.

She fell to her knees, screaming.

She held them.

And sobbed.

Then — the door creaked open behind her.

Someone stepped in.

Grief twisted into rage.

Into madness.

She stood, black fog pouring from her mouth, her eyes, her soul — then vanished, her golden dress falling to the floor.

The void returned.

Kibo stared at her.

“You cursed this entire world… because some people killed your family?”

She floated down slowly and grabbed him by the throat.

Her voice was a whisper of rot.

“Not some people. All people. They betray. They kill. That’s what they do.”

She released him.

As he gasped, she turned her head slightly.

“I told you before. I’m still searching… for faith and hope. In anyone.”

She giggled again — a broken, beautiful sound.

Kibo stood up, rubbing his neck.

“We died too. Me, Sachiko, Hiroshi. But we didn’t… become like them. Why?”

She turned slowly.

“You will. Not now. But soon.”

Her voice dropped to a near whisper.

“All three of you will lose yourselves. Become mindless. And walk the void forever.”

Kibo’s voice trembled. “But how can we stop it… How?”

She pointed to his chest.

“It’s in your neck.”

Kibo looked down.

The two-beaded necklace.

“This?” he asked.

She nodded. “Those beads keep your soul from decaying. Keep you from going insane. But…”

She smiled again.

“There are only two beads. And three of you.”

Her voice was calm. Unforgiving.

“So choose — who will you save? And who will you let go?”

Kibo’s lips parted, but no words came.

He looked at her — one final question.

“…What are you?”

She looked at him, for once, without a smile.

“Someone who lost everything. Someone still grieving… to her sick, rotten core.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

“Grieving so deeply… even monsters understand me more than humans ever did.”

She looked dead inside.

Then — suddenly — her tone shifted again.

“Oh! He runs fast. Look behind you.”

Kibo turned around.

Akechi was sprinting through the trees, katana drawn, closing in fast.

When he looked back…
She was gone.

And the forest was normal again.

But nothing felt the same.

Akechi came crashing through the trees like a storm, katana drawn, his eyes burning with fury.

Kibo stopped running.

He turned to face him.

No more fear.

No more running.

Akechi shouted, “Where is she?!”

Kibo held his ground. “Do you mean… Sachiko?”

Akechi froze. His eyes widened. “She’s alive?”

His voice rose into a roar. “Where is she?!”

Kibo raised his hands, trying to calm him. “She might be at the camp. If you go back—”

“You lied!” Akechi snarled. “You lied to my face! I’ll kill you like I did in the fire and take her away from all of this. To hell with the Shogun and his madness — she’s coming with me!”

Kibo’s breath caught.

The fire…

He saw it now — the man who had punched the air from his lungs, who had left him to die in the burning house.

It was Akechi.

The realization hit like a hammer.

But instead of rage, Kibo’s expression became calm.

Steady.

He drew his crimson-bladed sword.

He knew now: only one of them would leave this forest alive.

And both had someone waiting for them.

They charged.

The boy who once ran from death now sprinted toward it with open arms.

Kibo fought with precision — calm, controlled, like a flame burning steadily.

Akechi fought like a beast.

Every swing of his katana came with years of pain and guilt. His eyes were bloodshot, his movements unrelenting.

Steel clashed.

Fire sparked with every blow.

When the crimson blade met the samurai steel, it lit the night like lightning. Each strike sent embers flying. Each dodge was life or death.Kibo blocked, dodged, struck — but his body was already exhausted.He was running on willpower alone.

Still, he fought.

He fought for the friends who stood by him.

He fought for the girl who still believed in something good.

And in the end — he pinned Akechi down.

Their blades locked.

Kibo stood over him, breath heaving. “Do you yield?”
Akechi didn’t answer.

Instead — he threw sand into Kibo’s eyes.

Kibo recoiled, blinded.

In that moment, Akechi roared and swung.

The crimson blade shattered under the force of the katana.Akechi tackled him, knocking him down, and pressed the blade to Kibo’s neck.

His muscles trembled with rage. The sword inched closer.
Then —“STOP!”

Sachiko’s voice pierced the air.

She ran into the clearing, Hiroshi at her side.

Akechi turned, sword still raised.

He looked at her — truly looked.

Not as the baby he left behind.

But as a grown woman. Strong. Alive.

His arm trembled. His breath hitched. Something cracked inside him.

A smile broke across his face.

Not of victory.Of guilt.Of grief.

But that second of hesitation was enough.

Kibo’s hand moved.

The broken hilt of the crimson blade — still gripped tight — lunged forward.

And sank into Akechi’s heart.

Akechi’s eyes widened.

He looked at Kibo… then at Sachiko… then slowly, at the sky above.He exhaled.

And collapsed.

Kibo gasped for air, staring up at the dark canopy of trees.

The shattered remains of his crimson sword lay beside him. His arms trembled. Blood trickled from his mouth. His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm.

Nearby, Akechi lay motionless, the broken hilt of the blade still lodged in his chest.

A scream cut through the silence.“Brother!”

Sachiko ran to him, her voice cracking from pain. She dropped to her knees, grabbing Akechi’s body and pulling him into her lap.

His eyes fluttered open, barely able to focus. Slowly, he raised a trembling hand and cupped her cheek.

“I held you,” he whispered, voice thin as paper. “When you were little… you were so small. And now…”

He smiled, faint and soft.

“You’re all grown. So strong. You’re alive... I thought I lost you.”He coughed, his breath failing.
“Don’t worry about me… live your life… forget about your failure of a brother…"

His hand fell.

His chest stopped rising.

Akechi was gone.

“No… no…”

Sachiko held him to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Not like this… please, not like this… Don’t leave me… not here… I have no one left…”

Her cries echoed through the trees.

But then, her tear-soaked eyes locked onto something — someone.

Kibo.

Lying weak. Breathing. Alive.

Her grief twisted into something darker. Her trembling hand reached for her naginata.

She rose, staggered toward him — and pressed the staff to his throat.

“Why?” she screamed. Her voice was raw. Broken.

“Why did you take him from me?!”

Kibo’s eyes widened, but he was too weak to move, too stunned to speak.

She pushed harder.

“WHY?! I wanted you both to live! I wanted a world where we all could live!”

Kibo’s vision blurred. His breath caught in his throat.

And just before the darkness swallowed him—Hiroshi pulled her back.“Sachiko—stop!”

He held her tightly, not knowing what to say, only knowing he had to stop her before it was too late.

She thrashed in his arms, screaming.

“He was all I had! You killed him! YOU KILLED HIM!”

But even as she screamed, her grip on the naginata faltered.

And her knees gave out.

Sachiko sobbed, holding her brother’s lifeless body. The world around her blurred with grief.

Kibo lay nearby, barely conscious, his breath shallow.

And Hiroshi — he just stood there.

He didn’t know what to do anymore.

Then — the sound of boots.

Soldiers.

Getting closer.

“Damn it,” Hiroshi whispered.

They couldn’t stay here.

He rushed to Kibo’s side, shook him awake. “Get up. You have to move. Now.”

Then he turned to Sachiko.

She didn’t budge.

Her hands still clutched Akechi’s bloodied armor.

“Sachiko,” Hiroshi said softly. “We have to go.”

She looked down at her brother one last time… and gently removed his katana.

She rose, silent, and followed them into the woods.

The forest swallowed them again.

The tension among the trio was unbearable — like walking beside ghosts.

Back to square one.

No trust. No direction. Only desperation.

Finally, Sachiko broke the silence.“I know you did what you had to,” she said to Kibo. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were still wet. “You would’ve died if we hadn’t come in time.”

She paused.
“But that doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

Kibo looked down, saying nothing.“After we save Yuki,” she continued, “we go our separate ways. That’s what I promised.”

There was no argument.

Just cold, quiet agreement.
“We still have the passes. We just need to get inside the capital,” Sachiko said. “We’ll trade the crimson sword for Yuki—”

Kibo interrupted.He reached into his cloak… and pulled out what remained of the sword.

Broken. Rusted. The crimson glow — gone.

Hiroshi stared at it in disbelief. “That’s it? That’s the sword?”

Kibo nodded. “It shattered when I fought Akechi. It won’t work anymore.”

Sachiko went silent.

Hiroshi sighed and tried to stay composed. “It’s alright. The sword was just a bargaining chip. But now, with the cursed dead breaking out… the capital will be focused elsewhere. Fewer guards. We sneak in. We take her.”

But Kibo didn’t respond.

His silence said something else.

There was more.

And finally… he spoke.“When I was running… away from everyone… I saw her again.”

Sachiko and Hiroshi turned toward him.
“Who?” Hiroshi asked.

Kibo’s voice dropped.“The woman in the flower mask.”

Sachiko’s breath caught.

“She told me something,” Kibo continued. “She said we’re already dead. In this world. That soon we’ll lose ourselves… and become like the cursed.”

Hiroshi collapsed to his knees.

“Why…?” he muttered, hands clenched in the dirt. “Why can’t we catch a break? Why are the gods this cruel?”

Sachiko knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.Her voice was gentle, but tired. “Then what do we do?”Kibo hesitated.

Then — he removed the necklace from his neck.

Two crimson beads glinted in the dim forest light.

“These,” he said. “They hold us together. They keep our souls from unraveling.”

Sachiko looked at him. “Then give them to us.”

Kibo’s face twisted — regret, pain, and something deeper.“I… I’m sorry,” he said.

And Sachiko understood that it can't be that simple.

There were only two beads but there is three of them.

Only two would survive.

The silence that followed was unbearable.

The trio sat there, surrounded by the whispering trees and distant sea breeze, feeling the weight of the road ahead.

Time passed.

The sun rose, golden and unforgiving.

The three stood together under a lone sakura tree on a high slope.Below them — the capital.

A city of towering walls, shining rooftops, and canals flowing toward the ocean beyond.

The distant waves crashed quietly behind it all.

Just to the city’s side — a massive pit, dark and yawning like the mouth of the earth.

Kibo stared down at it all.

Sachiko clutched her brother’s sword.

Hiroshi laying his head on the tree sleeping taking a rest.

Everything they'd fought for… everything they’d lost…It all led to this.

The end was near.