“It was in the late fall that we discovered where the yokai - those demons you’ve by now seen - were entering our world. The doomed city of Takayama. Every soldier and militiaman in the empire was mustered for the battle that was to come. By this time my arm and I were well acquainted. My demonic ‘gift,’ as they called it. Does it surprise you to learn this arm is not my own by birth? It is a grafted branch, and I am the tree. There were two dozen of us who survived the process, and I was their captain.”

“Distinguished in my service, and having led a half dozen successful assaults on the yokai and their human allies, I was chosen to spearhead the attack on Takayama. I planned and prepared all I could. I knew the movements of each unit by heart. Even now I could recite them to you. Gods know I wish the orders had been different.”

“We approached the city in the dead of night. Our enemy was nocturnal, but the cover of darkness remained a welcome ally. Takayama was a city nestled in the mountains, you see, and had only one entrance. It was a steep path which crept up through the foothills, so narrow that we could only march two abreast. We knew the assault would be difficult. Such a bottleneck always leads to a slaughter.”

“Each of us wore clothes dyed black as night, and we rubbed our skins with charcoal. No sandals were worn. Instead we fashioned shoes of soft leather and cloth padding. Every man trained to move silently, to breathe slow and shallow. One failure meant the deaths of us all, for we knew the monsters were watching.”

“By some miracle we succeeded. We reached the gates of Takayama undetected and began the second phase.”

Masami paused and took a deep breath in. Her voice wavered as she continued, threatening to break, though she carried on.

“One of... One of the units was sent out as a decoy. Condemned men, all pressed into service for their crimes. Gods... They didn’t deserve what happened to them. Not most of them, anyway. They went off to either side of the city’s wall and made... made a distraction. Noise, fire, all the mayhem they could manage. It bought us time to break through the gates. I can still hear their screams.”

“We tried to ignore their fates as we hacked at the wooden doors before us, though we knew many of us would share it. The orders were to break through. So we did. We chopped at the gates with axes to weaken them before ramming them down. They offered surprisingly little resistance. Suspiciously little. We couldn’t have known. It doesn’t stop me from blaming myself.”

“Behind the gates, the yokai had set a trap. As soon as they gave way, a terrible volley of arrows and boulders were loosed upon the front line. We must’ve lost two hundred men in that instant. Two full companies gone. I knew some of them; their captain was a close friend. They were the lucky ones.”

“I was at the head of the next unit. My second in command, Satoshi, stood by my side. What was there for us to do but to charge? We rallied the men behind us and stepped over the bodies of the fallen. Into the streets we poured, a storm of flesh and steel acting as one. Though weakened by the trap, our force was two thousand strong, and we vastly outnumbered the enemy. Satoshi and I were to lead our unit of ‘gifted’ men to the heart of the city while the rest of the army covered our advance. It was from there we believed the demons came. We were right of course, though nothing could have prepared any of us for the reality of the place.”

“We bade our final goodbyes to our comrades as we charged ahead. The streets filled with their blood by the end of it, though they fought valiantly. To their credit, they dragged many hundreds of demons with them, to the extent that steel can kill one, though none of it would matter if we failed. Our rush was uninterrupted. What few forces the yokai and corrupted men put in our path were little match for us. In those days we used our grafted ‘gifts’ freely. Two dozen of the realm’s greatest warriors, aided by the very powers we fought to destroy. We tore them to ribbons just as they had done to so many of our friends.”

“I was the first to see the wound in the world through which the nightmares poured. After all, my grafted partner favors the eye above all else, and my body bore dozens of the orbs. Even now I’m not sure I could describe it in full. Not sure I really comprehended it. I knew it was wrong. Its existence shouldn’t have been possible. It was massive, and it shimmered in the firelight from the inferno our comrades had lit around us. Looking at it hurt. It was as though someone had ripped open the earth and placed within its injury a mirror that reflected twisted things. It... gods. It called to us. All of us felt it.”

Masami leaned back, staring up at the willow boughs as she wept.

“I’m sorry I can’t... I can’t bring myself to say it in detail. I lost them all. I’m still not sure what spared me from becoming one of those things like them. In the end most of them slaughtered each other. But Satoshi... Fuck. Satoshi was left for me to end. I carved away the damned ‘gifts’ from him, destroyed the core of the thing they’d put inside of him. It was too late of course. And so my first lover, my closest friend, died in my arms. His last words were ‘thank you, captain.’”

By now the words barely came.

“The rest of that night, I was the demon. I shattered the mirror and slaughtered everything that moved. Nothing could match the ferocity with which I avenged my men, my friends. My love. With their gateway gone, the monsters could muster no reinforcements, nor rebuild their bodies. So I cut them to pieces and burned their remains. I made sure nothing was left of Takayama.”

“In the end, only a hundred and ninety-seven of us survived, of the well over two thousand who came, and of them not a one walked away unscathed. They had to drag me from the rubble, half-dead, for I had exhausted myself terribly. We were heralded as heroes. But all I could think of was the faces of the dead, crushed into the dirt.”

“I was relocated to Amagasaki not long after. My body and spirit both broken, I lived on my soldier’s pension, spending my coin on beer and sake. I was sure I would die that way. Drunken and sad. In a way I was right, for that person no longer exists. He passed on into his troubled grave, and I came to replace him.”

“And so ends the tale of Koshiro Hashimoto, and begins the story of Masami Hisakawa. I told you it was not a happy one, but from it came something greater. The happiest years were ahead of me yet, and perhaps by knowing what I am leaving behind you may understand why I say you must return home. This is the story of how I was saved.”

“It was by chance that I met Kohaku. I’d fallen and knocked over my nightstand, causing the leg to break off. They were working in the city at that time as an apprentice. Theirs was the workshop I happened to contact for the repairs.”

“I’m not sure I believe in miracles or fate, and by then the thought of kind gods had all but faded from my mind. But if ever there was a truly kind god, it was the one who sent Kohaku to me. One afternoon chatting with them was all it took to melt my stony heart. It was the first time since the war that I’d just talked to someone. The first time I was a person to someone else, and not some broken thing to be paid hollow respects. We spoke for hours. I’d never felt so at peace. When they listened to me speak, I knew I was heard, and when they replied, their words were always exactly what I needed to hear. Needless to say I was smitten.”

“I was still mostly bedridden at the time, only able to get up for a few minutes at a time to wash, or stare out the window at the still unfamiliar city. I felt empty for many reasons. But Kohaku changed all of that. Before they left they offered to help me around the city, as I couldn’t walk very far unaided. Of course I accepted, and I slept that night with a heart full of hope.”

“Over the coming weeks, Kohaku visited me every night, after their work was finished. We would walk around town to their favorite spots. They let me open up about the war, about my crises and troubles. In a very real way they saved my life. Drink would’ve taken me, or else I’d have become a bitter husk of a woman, surviving but not truly alive. I finally came to terms with myself. With who I was, who I wanted to be. They taught me to accept the failures of my past and to stop blaming myself for the things I could not control. On one particularly difficult night I confessed that I loved them and they kissed away my tears. ‘Little one,’ they said, ‘I love you too. I have from the day I met you.’ The next day I moved into their humble lodgings.”

“It was not long after we began properly courting that I took my new name. Masami. To become beautiful. Kohaku gave it to me, murmured it in my ear one night as we laid together. And there my life began. We moved from the city out to some old land in the hills as soon as Kohaku finished their apprenticeship. I was still weak from the war and could do little but lay beside them as they worked to build our home. By their gentle voice they taught me all they knew of the carpenter’s trade.”

“Nearly a year passed before I could stand on my own again for more than a few minutes at a time. As I began to heal I took on more and more duties around our growing home. A bit of washing here, some cooking there. By the time the final walls were finished, I had joined in on the carpentry as well.”

“There is a special kind of serenity to be gleaned from the physical, creative arts. Doubly so with your lover at your side. I was terrible at first. My hands shook so terribly I could hardly hold a saw or a chisel, and straight, square cuts were beyond me. But with time and Kohaku’s encouragement I learned to control my tools. And with their embrace I learned what it was to live again.”

“Soon after we completed the cottage and furnished it as we saw fit, we were married. The gentle carpenter and the wreckage of a woman. The wedding was a small affair. Your grandmother was there, and some of Kohaku’s friends from the city. We spoke vows I will not repeat here, and our lives were whole.”

“So you see now, yes? Why I can’t let you come with me. This journey I am on is not one many can survive. I do it because someone must. You should go home and find your Kohaku. You don’t need to go through what I did. Be happy, Toshiro. Live a peaceful life and seek your adventures in places where demons will not go. There is no glory in war. Only death and agony.”

Masami let out a long, heavy sigh. She turned her tearstained face to look the boy straight in the eye, her gaze level and firm. Toshiro opened his mouth to reply. He paused to consider before speaking. The words came out soft and low but built in strength as he spoke.

“I know all of that. Better than you think. There’s a reason my father isn’t the one holding this sword, right? He didn’t even die for anything noble, just a squabble between feuding lords. I’m not here for me. I’m here for you and Kohaku. You two are like parents to me! I can’t let you go off alone for some kind of ‘duty.’”

Masami looked at him, stunned, mouth agape.

“I mean seriously Mrs. Hisakawa, you didn’t even bring more than one blanket! I don’t see any cooking utensils either. You need someone to look after you, and that someone is me.”

“Toshiro -”

“No! I’m done with the lectures! There are people who care about you and you need to come home safe for them!” By now Toshiro was nearly shouting, tears of his own beginning to pool at the corner of his eyes. “You’re the one going on a stupid adventure. At least take me with you so you don’t have to face it alone.”

Masami slumped back against the trunk of the willow tree. Her eyes now were downcast, for she could hardly bear to look at the young man across from her. “I - I’m sorry. You’re probably right, though I had no intention of dying on this trip. We’ll see how things are at Ichinomiya. But this is not a promise to let you follow me. And you absolutely will not use that sword except in dire emergencies.”

Toshrio nodded. “Of course! You’re still going to teach me, right?”

“I’m an awful teacher, but yes. The way you were waving that thing around earlier was worse than useless. Though with any luck you’ll never need to draw it. Now, it’s well past time for us to get some sleep. From now on you wake up with the sun, understand? We need to make the best of every hour of daylight.”

Masami slid under her blanket without waiting for a reply. She felt even more drained than she had the previous night, but sleep did not come easily. When finally it took her, it was fitful and laden with nightmares. She awoke many times in a cold sweat until finally dawn came.