Satoru’s laughter was bright. Short-lived.
The snake was green as grass, fast as lightning. It uncoiled from the akebi vines and struck like quicksilver, fangs buried to the gums in Satoru’s hand. The boy cried out, stumbling away as the terrified serpent struck again, punching twin holes in his forearm. The bamboo sword dropped to the moist earth. The viper slithered away from the noise and motion, its scales gleaming like polished glass. Yukiko watched her brother fall, eyes wide, mouth open.
“Satoru!”
She ran to his side and he blinked up at her in confusion and shock, jaw slack.
“Jade adder,” he mumbled.
Yukiko took off her obi, tying the fabric above the wounds as tight as her little hands could. She heard her father’s voice in her head, careful, methodical:
“You must cut the wound, draw the poison out with your mouth and spit. And you must be swift. Swift as the snake that bit you, or you will find yourself standing before the Judge of the Nine Hells, fearsome Enma-ō.”
“But I don’t have a knife,” she wailed, cradling her brother’s head.
Satoru was staring at the sky, holding her hand, a thin sheen of sweat rising over his body. He began trembling, first his fingertips, then his lips, breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Tell me what to do!” she pleaded. “Tell me what to do, Satoru!”
His tongue was swollen, lips turning blue. She made to stand and run for help, but he held onto her hand, refusing to let go. And in that moment she felt the world drop away beneath her, fell down into the warm darkness of his thoughts; the first and only time she had touched another human mind. Awash with poison, metallic tang in the back of her throat, muscles palsied. But she could hear him, feel his voice, like the wind up the valley in the warmth of spring.
Don’t go.
But I have to get help.
Please don’t leave.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, spattering across his upturned face. He couldn’t feel his feet, his fingers were a distant blur. She was inside him and staring down at him at the same time, a glittering myriad of pathways in his mind, slowly choking closed with the onset of the venom. He was terrified, but he reached out and found some solace in her warmth, her touch, squeezing her hand as best he could.
I don’t want to die, sister.
She screamed for help, screamed until her throat seized closed, grabbing him by his collar and dragging him through the brush. But he was so heavy, and she was so little. The rush of his thoughts was overcome with lethargy, spilling over into her mind and turning her hands and feet to lead. She dragged him and screamed, snot spilling from her nose, cheeks wet with tears, unable at the end to even find words. Inarticulate, shapeless sounds; a howling, threadbare wail until her throat could take no more.
And nobody came.
I’m sorry, brother.
He died in her arms.
I’m so sorry.
And for the first time in her life, she was truly alone.
She opened her eyes. The night wind kissed the sweat on her skin. The air was rank with the smell of burned blood and shit, two oni crumpled like broken statues and bleeding out black onto the snow-white azaleas.
The beast glowered down at her, pupils dilated, a thin, brilliant band of amber glittering like a ring of fireflies around bottomless pits. Its flanks heaved, breath snorting from its nostrils, talons and fur painted with steaming demon blood. Splashed with thick gore and gobbets of flesh, its beak looked sharp enough to cut through bone as if it were butter. It growled, deep and grating, echoing the clash of dark clouds slung high overhead.
AWAKE. GOOD.
It turned to leave, long tail swishing across the leaves. The ground crunched beneath its feet, wings curled back on its sides, sleek and pale. The scales on its forelegs were the color of iron, each talon as long as her tantō, sharp as any blade of folded steel. Lightning dappled its fur, the shadows in the leaves creating shifting patterns among the stripes across its back.
Wait. Wait!
The beast paused, aiming a narrowed stare over its shoulder.
Why did you help me?
DEBT OWED. NOW REPAID.
The image of small hands struggling with the cage door flitted across their minds. The beast turned and stalked into the darkness, moving with an unsteady, feline grace.
GOODBYE.
Please don’t leave me.
Yukiko struggled to her feet, wincing at the bruises, the gashes up her back and across her ribs. Her hair was a ragged tangle over her eyes. She fumbled in the gloom, finally grasping the bloody tantō and slipping it into the scabbard at her back.
It had been a gift from her father on her ninth birthday.
OWE YOU NOTHING, MONKEY-CHILD. GO BACK TO YOUR SCAB.
Scab?
ANTS” NEST. WOOD AND STONE. SPEWING POISON INTO MY SKY.
We call them cities.
SCABS. BOILS ON THE LAND. YOU ARE SEPTIC.
If you leave me here alone, I’ll die.
DO NOT CARE. DEBT REPAID. MILLIONS OF YOU. ONE LESS IS NOTHING. A GOOD START.
We thought your kind extinct. Where do you come from?