EP 28: Shrine of Quiet Blood

They didn’t stay in the park.

Kanata spotted movement on the far path, too many silhouettes, too coordinated for strays. He grabbed Takiya’s wrist and pulled her hard toward the eastern slope.

“Shrine,” he said. “Now.”

She didn’t resist. If anything, she followed a little too eagerly.

Stone steps rose between broken lanterns and overgrown weeds. The torii gate was cracked down the middle, rope charms hanging loose like snapped veins. They climbed fast, boots scraping stone, breaths sharp but controlled.

A growl echoed behind them.

Kanata kicked open the shrine doors and shoved Takiya inside just as shadows spilled into the courtyard. He slammed the door shut, sliding a fallen offering box against it.

Silence followed.

Not peaceful. Just waiting.

Dust floated in thin beams of moonlight. The shrine smelled of incense and old wood. Prayer plaques lay scattered, names half-erased.

Kanata leaned against the wall, listening. His pulse slowly came down.

Takiya stood in the center of the room.

She was smiling.

Not wide. Not manic.

Content.

“That was fun,” she said.

Kanata looked at her. Really looked this time. Blood on her cheek. Sleeves torn. Her chest rising a little faster than it should.

“You enjoyed that,” he said.

She tilted her head. “Is that bad?”

He didn’t answer right away.

She walked closer, wooden sword resting on her shoulder like it belonged there. “I’ve always been like this,” she continued, voice calm, almost polite. “Before the outbreak. Before you.”

Kanata’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

Takiya stopped an arm’s length away. “When I hit something… when I break it… everything goes quiet. No noise. No fear. Just clarity.”

She placed a hand over her own chest, fingers pressing lightly as if to prove her heart was still there. “I don’t lose control. I find it.”

Kanata felt a chill run through him.

“So that’s why you’re so good,” he muttered.

She smiled again, smaller this time. “That’s why I stayed.”

A thud hit the shrine door. Then another. Wood creaked.

Kanata stepped closer, close enough to feel her warmth. His hand came up, gripping the front of her jacket, pulling her in just enough that she had to look up at him.

No fear.

No hesitation.

“If you’re going to kill,” he said quietly, voice tight, “do it for a reason.”

Her eyes locked onto his.

“For who?” she asked.

His grip tightened for half a second, then loosened. “For me. When it matters. When I say it does.”

The words surprised even him.

Takiya’s breath caught. Not in protest. In something closer to excitement.

She nodded once. “Okay.”

Another slam against the door. Cracks spread along the wood.

Kanata turned, shouldering his weapon. “Looks like they’re not interested in religion.”

Takiya stepped beside him, stance perfect, expression serene.

“Good,” she said. “I was starting to miss the noise.”

The shrine shook.

And somewhere between prayer and blood, something unspoken was sealed.