Chapter 1: The Girl with the Silver Hair

"Mizuki! If you don't get these herbs crushed by sunset, you're on dinner duty for a week!"

I groaned, slamming the heavy stone pestle into the mortar with a bit more force than necessary. "Coming, Grandma! Sheesh, you'd think the world would end if these stupid leaves aren't powdered."

My grandmother, Chiyo, poked her head out of our small wooden house, her face a roadmap of wrinkles that crinkled when she scowled. And she was always scowling. "The world could end if a Gaki demon decides to snack on your innards because you weren't prepared. Now, less whining, more crushing!"

Right. Gaki demons. My life in a nutshell.

Most sixteen-year-old girls worried about exams, crushes, or what color to dye their hair. Me? I worried about making sure my daggers were sharp enough to slice through demonic hide and whether I had enough purification talismans to last a patrol.

Living with my grandparents, two legendary-in-their-own-right demon hunters, will do that to you. They took me in after… well, after the accident. The one where a sneaky little Imp demon possessed my dad while he was driving, causing a crash that took both my parents. I was just a kid. All I remember is the smell of smoke and the sight of a fleeting shadow with wicked, red eyes.

Ever since, Grandma Chiyo and Grandpa Kenji made it their mission to turn me into a demon-slaying machine. And honestly? I didn't mind. It felt… right. Like I was getting a little piece of my own back with every demon I exorcised.

My long, silver hair, usually tied up in a high ponytail, whipped around as I finally finished grinding the last of the herbs. They smelled like dirt and something vaguely spicy. Demon repellent. Not exactly Chanel No. 5, but it worked.

"Done!" I yelled, carrying the bowl inside. The air was thick with the scent of weapon oil and old books. Grandpa Kenji was meticulously polishing his collection of blessed katanas, his movements slow but precise.

"Good work, kiddo," he said without looking up, his voice a low rumble. "There's a report of some unusual activity down by the old shrine. A couple of travelers went missing."

I grinned, a thrill shooting through me. "Basic demons? Maybe a few Imps?"

"Don't get cocky," Grandma snapped, snatching the bowl from me. "Cockiness gets you killed. It's probably just some hungry Jikininki, but you never know. A hunter is always prepared for the worst."

She was right, of course. She always was. That's how they'd survived this long.

As dusk painted the sky in shades of orange and purple, I got ready. I swapped my everyday clothes for my fighting attire: a custom-made kimono, blood-red with black accents, designed for movement. It was light but durable. I strapped my twin daggers, ‘Gin’ and ‘Kin’ (Silver and Gold), to my thighs and stuffed a pouch full of talismans and herbal bombs into my obi.

Looking at my reflection in the polished surface of a shield, I saw a girl with pale skin and serious silver eyes. Just a normal girl. But I knew that if things got heated, if my anger flared, streaks of gold would blaze through my silver hair, a strange trait I'd had since I was a child. Grandma called it my "Phoenix fire."

"Be back by sunrise," Grandpa said, handing me a small, warm bun. "And don't engage anything that feels above your level. Your job is reconnaissance first, combat second."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," I mumbled through a mouthful of red bean paste. "Scout it out, take out the trash if it's easy, and run like heck if it's not."

He chuckled, ruffling my hair. "That's my girl."

The forest was a different world at night. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, set my senses on high alert. This was my element. I moved like a ghost through the trees, my soft-soled tabi making no sound.

The old shrine was just ahead, a dilapidated wooden structure swallowed by vines. It had an eerie energy, the kind that makes the hair on your arms stand up. Definitely demons. I crouched behind a thicket of bamboo, peering into the clearing.

And there they were. Three of them. Jikininki - corpse-eaters. They were hunched over something on the ground, their forms gaunt and skeletal, with stringy black hair and eyes that glowed with a faint, ghoulish light. They were basic-level, sure, but nasty. And they were definitely feasting on what was left of those poor travelers.

A hot rage boiled in my stomach. Bullies. That's all demons were. Preying on the weak, causing pain just because they could. I hated them. I hated them more than anything.

My hand went to the hilt of my dagger. Reconnaissance first, Grandpa had said. But looking at that scene, I knew there was no way I was just walking away.

"Time to take out the trash," I whispered to myself.

I could feel it then, the familiar warmth spreading from my scalp. I didn't need a mirror to know my hair was changing, streaks of brilliant gold weaving through the silver. The Moonlight Phoenix was ready for a fight.

With a deep breath, I burst from my hiding spot.

"Hey, ugly!" I shouted, pulling both daggers from their sheaths. "Dinner's over!"

The three demons snapped their heads toward me, their glowing eyes locking onto mine. They let out a coordinated, raspy hiss, a sound like dry leaves scraping against stone. They abandoned their gruesome meal and started shambling toward me, their long, claw-like fingers twitching.

One lunged, faster than its clumsy appearance suggested. I sidestepped easily, the move as natural as breathing, and brought Gin's blade up in a clean arc, slicing through its neck. It dissolved into a cloud of black dust before it even hit the ground.

One down.

The other two screeched and came at me from both sides. This was more like it. I ducked under a wild swing from the left, spun on my heel, and plunged Kin deep into the second demon's chest. It gargled, its form flickering, then poof-gone.

The last one hesitated, a flicker of something like fear in its vacant eyes. It tried to turn and flee.

"Oh no, you don't!"

I threw Gin with perfect accuracy. The dagger spun end over end, catching the Jikininki in the back. It shrieked and fell, disintegrating into nothingness.

I retrieved my dagger, wiping the residual demonic dust on my sleeve. The clearing was silent again, save for the chirping of crickets. The rage subsided, and the golden glow in my hair faded back to pure silver.

It was a small victory. Three basic demons. Nothing to brag about. But as I stood there, under the light of the moon, I felt a sense of peace. My parents were gone, but I was still here. And as long as I was, I'd keep fighting. I'd protect anyone I could from meeting the same fate they did. This was my promise.