Shadows in the Candlelight

Ayaka woke to a room that smelled faintly of smoke and rain.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep—or if she had even slept at all. Every shadow in her room stretched strangely, twisting along the walls like black ribbons. The feather… or what remained of it… was gone. But she could still feel it—pressing lightly against her palm, as if it had burrowed into her skin.

Kitsura appeared instantly, tail flicking, perched on her dresser. “You woke up like this again? Seriously, shrine girl, you need a bedtime routine. Or at least a less haunted one.”

Ayaka rubbed her eyes. “It’s not me. Something’s… wrong. I feel weird.”

Kitsura’s ears twitched. “Ah. That’s the effect of the link. You touched the feather, remember? It didn’t vanish; it connected.”

She froze. “Connected how?”

“Think of it like a… spiritual Wi-Fi,” Kitsura said, one paw lazily dangling off the dresser. “The demon is online, and you’re… his hotspot.”

Ayaka’s mouth fell open. “…What?”

Kitsura smirked. “You asked. Don’t blame me for the metaphors.”

By the afternoon, the effects became impossible to ignore.

As Ayaka swept the courtyard, the broom moved of its own accord. Paper charms quivered. Even the koi pond rippled without a breeze. And every so often, a whisper—like the faintest hiss—slid through her mind.

“Still cleaning up messes, shrine girl?”

Her knees buckled. “Not again!”

She stumbled to the steps, gripping the railing. Kitsura materialized in front of her. “Don’t panic. You can control this. Focus on your own aura. Block his energy, don’t fight it.”

“Block it? It’s inside me!”

“Exactly. Inside. You might actually survive if you calm your thoughts. Maybe.”

Ayaka groaned. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

Kitsura rolled his eyes. “It’s the best I can do without a coffee and a human-sized punching bag.”

Yukino arrived just as the whisper slid past again. Her sharp eyes narrowed. “Ayaka, step aside.”

“Step aside? I can’t!” Ayaka exclaimed. “I’m—”

A sudden tremor shot through her arms. The broom twitched violently, swiping dirt and leaves in a chaotic arc. Ayaka nearly toppled backward.

Kitsura yipped. “Yep. Definitely linked.”

Yukino moved faster than Ayaka could react, placing her hands on her sister’s shoulders. She muttered a chant under her breath. Golden sigils flared around Ayaka, briefly shielding her from the demon’s subtle pulse.

Ayaka’s eyes widened. “What… what was that?”

“Containment,” Yukino said tersely. “You’re unstable. That demon’s essence is resonating with your aura. If we don’t regulate it, he could—”

“He could what?” Ayaka pressed, panic rising.

“Influence your body,” Yukino finished, voice grim. “Your movements, your energy, even your prayers could become… his. You’d be channeling him without knowing.”

Ayaka felt a shiver down her spine. “…Channeling him?”

Kitsura sighed, tail flicking. “She’s technically correct. But don’t worry—probably. Probably.”

Ayaka blinked. “Thanks for the confidence.”

That night, Ayaka tried to sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, whispering prayers under her breath. The rain tapped lightly against the roof, and her heartbeat echoed with every drop.

The darkness of her room shifted. Shadows pooled unnaturally in the corners. A figure appeared at the edge of the tatami—tall, calm, distant, with the faintest grin.

“Still awake,” the voice said softly.

Ayaka’s eyes widened. “Go away!”

“I am away,” he said, voice smooth and empty, “but I’m also… everywhere you don’t want me to be.”

The shadows swirled around her, tracing shapes of the shrine, the forest, the torii gate. Every flicker of candlelight cast them closer.

She clenched her fists. “I’m not afraid of you!”

He chuckled, faint and dry. “Good. Fear isn’t the point. Curiosity is.”

Curiosity…

The word reverberated inside her, stirring something she didn’t recognize. Strength, maybe. Or determination. She didn’t know which, but it burned.

Kitsura’s voice echoed in her mind, calm and dry. “Brace yourself, shrine girl. This is just Act Two.”

Ayaka swallowed, gripping her blanket like a lifeline. “Fine. Then let’s see who breaks first—me or him.”

The figure dissolved into darkness.

But the whisper remained:

“Soon… you’ll do more than touch my world. You’ll step inside it.”

Ayaka’s eyes widened. Somewhere far off, a thunderclap answered the words.

She didn’t sleep that night either.