Chapter 15: Fangs at the Gate

The midday sun cast uneven patches of light through the forest canopy, dappling the ground in shifting patterns. The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp wood and fallen leaves. Atsushi walked at the rear of a small group, his steps deliberately quiet as they navigated the overgrown path leading to a hunting post. Ana led the way, her movements precise and deliberate, her bow held loosely at her side but ready at a moment’s notice.

Behind them, a young hunter named Kaede carried a small bundle of supplies for the scouting post they were heading to. Though he had volunteered eagerly, his nervous glances at the trees betrayed his unease.

“Relax,” Ana said without turning around. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that left little room for argument. “If something’s out there, you’ll hear it long before you see it.”

Kaede swallowed hard but nodded, adjusting his grip on the bundle. Atsushi caught up to him, offering a reassuring smile.

“She’s not wrong,” Atsushi said quietly. “But she could work on her bedside manner.”

Kaede let out a shaky laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ana glanced back, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Less talking. We’re close.”

The hunting post was little more than a small clearing with a wooden platform built into one of the larger trees. It overlooked a game trail that cut through the forest, providing a vantage point for hunters tracking deer or boar. The area was quiet, the usual rustle of underbrush and calls of birds replaced by an uneasy stillness.

Ana stopped at the edge of the clearing, her eyes scanning the surroundings. “Something’s off.”

Kaede hesitated, glancing around nervously. “You think they’ve been here?”

“Maybe,” Ana said, her tone low. “Or something else scared the wildlife away.”

Atsushi moved closer to the base of the platform, his eyes drawn to a faint disturbance in the dirt. The ground was scuffed, as if something heavy had been dragged through the clearing. Kneeling, he ran his fingers over the marks, his brow furrowing.

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t small,” he said. “These tracks are deep.”

Ana joined him, crouching beside the marks. Her fingers traced the grooves in the dirt, her expression growing darker.

“These aren’t animal tracks,” she said. “Too uniform. This was made by something human.”

Kaede stepped back, his face pale. “You think it was them?”

Ana didn’t answer immediately. She stood, her gaze shifting to the trees beyond the clearing. “We should move. Now.”

The walk back to the village was tense, the group’s usual chatter replaced by wary silence. Even Ana seemed more on edge than usual, her hand resting on the hilt of her knife as she scanned the forest with every step. Kaede stayed close to Atsushi, his earlier nerves amplified by the discovery at the hunting post.

When they reached the village, the elder was already waiting near the central fire. His expression was grave, and the group of villagers gathered around him mirrored his concern. As soon as Ana approached, he turned to her.

“What did you find?” he asked.

“Tracks,” Ana said bluntly. “Human. Fresh. Whoever made them was at the hunting post recently.”

The elder’s jaw tightened. “The other tribe?”

“Maybe,” Ana said. “But I can’t say for sure. If it is them, they’re moving closer.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, a mix of fear and anger. Daichi stepped forward, his arms crossed and his expression as sharp as ever.

“Another reason we should’ve dealt with them already,” he said. “We’re giving them too much time.”

“And if we attacked and they wiped us out, where would we be then?” Ana shot back. “Dead, and the river still theirs.”

Daichi scowled but said nothing. The elder raised a hand, silencing the murmurs.

“We must remain vigilant,” he said. “If the other tribe is testing our defenses, we cannot afford to falter. But we will not act rashly. Ana, Atsushi—strengthen the patrols near the forest edge. And Atsushi, I trust you’ll keep the injured ready to move, should the need arise.”

Atsushi nodded, though the weight of the elder’s words pressed heavily on his shoulders. The thought of abandoning the village—the fragile home they had built—left a bitter taste in his mouth.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Atsushi found himself near the infirmary, sorting through his dwindling stock of medical supplies. The discovery at the hunting post had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. The other tribe’s leader had seemed reasonable during their negotiation, but the tracks painted a different picture. If they were preparing for an attack, the village wouldn’t have the numbers—or the resources—to withstand it.

“Lost in thought again?” Ana’s voice broke through his reverie.

Atsushi glanced up to see her leaning against the doorway, her bow still slung across her back. Her expression was less guarded than usual, though the tension in her posture remained.

“Just wondering how we’re supposed to prepare for a fight we can’t win,” he said.

Ana stepped inside, her boots scuffing softly against the wooden floor. “We don’t fight unless we have to. That’s the point of all this, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Atsushi said. “But I can’t help feeling like we’re running out of time.”

Ana tilted her head, studying him for a moment. “You’ve been here long enough to know how this works. Survival isn’t about winning—it’s about adapting. If they push us, we push back. Harder.”

Her words carried a quiet confidence that Atsushi couldn’t help but admire. Despite the constant challenges they faced, Ana never wavered. She was unyielding, even in the face of uncertainty.

“And if adapting isn’t enough?” he asked.

“Then we make sure it is,” Ana said simply. She turned to leave but paused in the doorway. “Get some rest. You’re no good to anyone if you burn out.”

Night fell, bringing with it a thick fog that rolled in from the river. The village was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of evening drowned out by the oppressive stillness. Atsushi sat outside the infirmary, the fractured device in his hands. Its faint glow flickered erratically, as if mirroring his own doubts.

He was no stranger to pressure. In Tokyo, the demands of his profession had been relentless, each life he held in his hands a weight he bore alone. But here, the stakes felt different. Every decision he made had consequences that rippled far beyond himself.

As he stared at the device, he heard footsteps approaching. Ana appeared from the mist, her silhouette sharp against the fog. She carried a small bundle wrapped in cloth, which she handed to him without a word.

“What’s this?” Atsushi asked.

“Food,” Ana said. “You’ve barely eaten all day.”

Atsushi managed a faint smile. “You’re surprisingly thoughtful for someone who insults me every chance they get.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Ana said, though the corner of her mouth twitched in what might have been a smile.

They sat in silence for a while, the fog curling around them like ghostly tendrils. For all the uncertainty that loomed over the village, the quiet moment felt oddly comforting.

“You think we’ll get through this?” Atsushi asked finally.

Ana didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was steady. “We don’t have a choice.”