Yuuta, the raccoon, often reverted to his original form to visit this yard, enticed by the delicious persimmons. However, lately, he’d abstained, aware that the family of four who lived here had been struggling to eat. They now depended on these very persimmons for survival. Worry creased Yuuta’s features as he balanced on the fence, peering into the dimly lit house.
“Love, you can’t take this dicine. I saw Taro next door take it and he turned into a monster!” A frail, yellow-skinned middle-aged woman with a child secured to her back tugged at her resolute husband. He clutched packets of dicine, each bearing an official note from the imperial court.
“Not take it? Then we’re just waiting to die! Best case, we starve; worst case, we get eaten by others!” The man shoved his wife aside. “Stop delaying! Prepare the dicine. Anyone who refuses will answer to !”
Off to the side, a little girl, around seven or eight years old, burst into tears.
“Quiet! Stop crying! The imperial court has decreed it—the world is changing. A sunless, dayless new world is erging where crops can’t grow. If we wish to survive, we must adapt!”
“But if we turn into monsters, is that really living?”
“What monsters? We’re just ordinary people with limited potential. Had we not adapted, we would have been purged. It’s Lord Shogun who’s labored to provide us this affordable herbal dicine so that we can transition into the new era. At that point, it might actually be those who refuse to adapt who are treated as monsters and exterminated
1.”
The man’s face hardened, his teeth clenched. “I’ll ensure my family lives. Where there is life, there’s hope!”
Yuuta jumped off the fence, not looking back, never to return to this yard. He didn’t want to know what choices this family would make. In various neighborhoods across Heian-kyo, long queues ford for the distribution of this secretive dicine. Others opted to lock themselves away, preferring death by starvation or falling prey to monsters.
At Heian Palace, within the expansive, dimly lit Purple Serenity Hall, Emperor Masayoshi sat adorned in the sacred white robes of his station. Lacking the typical imperial majesty, he resembled more a timid bride awaiting her groom. He was originally Prince Narinaga, younger brother to Emperor Go-Toba, and had been twice saved by Lily—from an assassination attempt by an unknown demon and again when he fought the monsters of Mount Ooe hidden among the Tsunaga Sisters.
Regardless of which brother took the throne, real power rested with the Cloistered Emperor, who controlled everything from behind the scenes. Emperor Eritus was nowhere to be seen, though he was presud to still be alive.
Sitting adjacent to the throne was Minamoto no Yoritomo. When visiting, all the ministers subtly tilted their seats towards him. With the Chief Advisor’s seat empty, the next rank belonged to Chancellor Fujiwara no Renbo.
Outside the palace, an intimidating cadre of dark, demonic samurais knelt. While humanoid, so were colossal—so large that when they knelt at the back, they eclipsed the palace itself.
“Your Majesty, these are the exceptional talents I’ve recruited over the past few months. They are imnsely powerful and can serve as the pillars of the imperial court,” Yoritomo proclaid, eyeing Emperor Masayoshi.
Prince Narinaga was naive in matters of governance, timid, effeminate, but not stupid. He knew these towering samurais were neither noble nor benign. However, he also realized that voicing opposition would be futile and dangerous.
“Lord Shogun, you’ve labored much. Though our treasury is empty, a proclamation honoring your efforts will be issued,” said the Emperor.
“I thank Your Majesty,” responded Yoritomo.
From the shadows behind the curtains, the Cloistered Emperor nodded approvingly. This younger brother was proving to be more astute than his predecessor.
“The matters of the martial families will be left to the Shogun. Deploy these samurais as you see fit. You needn’t consult further,” Emperor Masayoshi decreed. After all, every encounter with Yoritomo only reinforced his fear. The less they t, the better.
“I obey,” Yoritomo affird.
Emperor Masayoshi knew his title was largely ceremonial. He needed to play his part convincingly or face dire consequences. “I’ve heard of the recent upheavals—volcanoes erupting, the ground splitting apart, and unknown demons bringing calamity. I can see the flas even from the rear palace. It disrupts my als and sleep. What counterasures have been put in place?”
Although Masayoshi suspected that Yoritomo and the Cloistered Emperor might be involved in these changes, he maintained his composure.
Fujiwara no Renbo knelt and said, “Your Majesty, the governnt and the populace are equally terrified. Lord Shogun has been concerned, but fortunately, there are new counterasures.”
“What counterasures?” Emperor Masayoshi probed.
Minamoto no Yoritomo interjected, “The heavens have been chaotic for a considerable ti, and as a minister, my concern has grown ever deeper. Now, the earth too begins to tremble, signaling that the disorder in heavenly laws bears grave implications. We may be mortals who can’t confront the heavens, but sitting idly awaiting our end isn’t an option either. In the annals of history, humanity has persevered through calamities, finding rebirth amid disasters. This resilience indicates that both your majesty’s court and our people enjoy divine favor. However, re favor is insufficient. Humanity must muster the courage to step forth and confront this mutating world.”
“Humanity must also evolve!” Yoritomo declared emphatically to the court.
The Emperor and his ministers, including the Cloistered Emperor, were rendered speechless. Though rumors had circulated, this was Yoritomo’s first official declaration before the Imperial Court. “Yes, under the blessings of both heaven and your majesty, the people shall adapt and tackle this altered world as a collective force. This is your majesty’s brave new world!” Yoritomo’s voice resonated throughout the hall.
‘A brave new world? More like your new world,’ Emperor Masayoshi mused internally. His heart quivered with fear despite his resolution to maintain composure. Yoritomo had achieved an unprecedented consolidation of martial families, vanquishing any who could oppose him and rising to an unrivaled position. Usurpation? Dethroning the Emperor? Such goals seed to fall short of Yoritomo’s genuine ambition—a whole new world. Though Yoritomo’s reasoning was not flawed, the Emperor felt his soul shudder. Who, on this day, could challenge him? Who would dare
2?
In Suno, at Kimiko’s Shrine, heightened security asures were evident both inside and outside. Rei, Shimizu, and a handful of fox demons congregated within, barring entrance to any outsiders. Inside the shrine, an essential undertaking was in progress—procuring Celestial Pure Water to heal Kimiko. Both Kimiko and Ayaka were unparalleled dical experts familiar with Shizuka Gozen’s healing techniques. As long as the Celestial Pure Water was secured, the absence of Shizuka Gozen wouldn’t impede the treatnt.
Within the inner chamber, only Kimiko, Ayaka, and Lily were present. “Lady Kimiko, shall we comnce the treatnt?” Lily inquired.
Kimiko nodded. “I entrust myself to your care.”
Duty outweighed Lily’s nervousness. “Very well, let’s begin.”
Retreating to the shrine’s rear chamber, Kimiko donned a pristine white yukata before venturing deeper into a hidden cave. Swirling white mist, hanging vines, and flowing clear water evoked a celestial atmosphere, accentuated by an ancient stone bridge. Kimiko reached a cavern featuring a statue of a thousand-handed goddess clothed in revealing, yet noble attire.
Upon a blanket laid on the cave floor, Kimiko reclined. A single candle flickered. Nearby, Ayaka and Lily erged from separate passageways to stand beside the statue, both garbed in sheer celestial attire—simultaneously ethereal and sensual.
“Shall we begin?” Lily’s voice tinged with discomfort, largely due to her scant clothing.
“Indeed,” Kimiko consented.
Fortunately, they were all won. It was customary for won to change clothes and bathe together, so no one quite understood the awkwardness hanging in the air.
Kimiko lay down on the blanket, and Lily and Ayaka exchanged glances, their breaths sowhat shallow.
“Start.”
“Mm.”
Each holding a peculiar tree branch that served as a spirit treasure, Lily and Ayaka began their ritual. As they shook the branches, pink and purple flower buds jingled, emitting beautiful chis akin to silver bells.
Swaying in rhythm to the soft sounds, they embodied a blend of dignity, sacredness, solemnity, and an almost irresistible allure. It was a unique charm— one that could only emanate from won possessing both a pure heart
3 and modest behavior, yet naturally endowed with striking appearances.
Physical beauty was a gift of birth, but it couldn’t overshadow their inherently noble and virtuous spirits. They danced gracefully, resembling ethereal clouds. Elegant white clouds gradually adopted a pinkish hue, reminiscent of the morning glow. And within that ethereal morning glow, the sacred Celestial Pure Water began to form.
For three continuous days, Lily and Ayaka remained in this mystical state, swaying and chiming. It was the only way to amass enough Celestial Pure Water to heal Kimiko’s life-threatening injuries. Their dance— a srizing blend of beauty and grace— transford the cave into an almost heavenly tableau.
Outside the cave and shrine, Rei and Shimizu maintained their watchful vigil. Though the night stretched on seemingly without end, and daylight seed a distant promise, ti marched on unfaltering.
Footnotes:
Robinxen: If this was in Fate, this tiline would beco a Lostbelt. Because they’re literally doing what the Russian’s did in Lostbelt 1.
Robinxen: Enter… the protagonist.
Yuki: I laugh at this… they are anything but pure.
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