Masami and Toshiro searched for survivors until well past sundown, in spite of their aching limbs. In the end, they found only one amidst the corpses. She was badly burned and her leg had been broken when she was buried under falling wooden beams. As they carried her back to the makeshift infirmary near the crater which was now the center of town, she babbled on wildly. “Akuma,” she repeated, over and over again. “Akuma and his devil son.”

When they were sure they had searched every remnant of their corner of town, the pair returned to Takeo. A large group of the survivors congregated nearby, huddled under blankets and setting up tents. They used broken beams to prop up the rags, and brought cracked stones from ruined foundations to weigh them down. The silence was palpable. No one knew what to say.

“Toshiro, mind seeing if anyone needs blankets? I can manage with just my robes, it isn’t such a cold night. And maybe find us a corner to settle in for the night. I need to talk to Takeo.” The words came slowly.

Toshiro simply nodded, as weary as the samurai himself. Masami watched him trudge off towards a pair of elderly women surrounded by young children. Satisfied, she turned to head towards Takeo. He was still standing tall near the center of the crater, a pile of supplies nearby. Every so often a villager would approach him, and he would let them take what they needed from the stash, be it recovered blankets or a jug of water.

Takeo waved as Masami approached. “So, what’d you think? Told ya you’d want to see that.”

Masami nodded grimly. “Yeah. I mean, I really didn’t, but it’s for the best I did. Was Kenshi the only one?”

“As far as I saw, yes. Not sure where he came from or why he was here, but it seemed like at least some of the fires were his fault.”

“That makes sense. He had a penchant for using onibi. Dunno what they put in him back then, but it was powerful.”

“Of course. Well, he seemed to be secondary to whatever it was that made this crater anyway. That thing, whatever it was, made it out alive. If you can call these monsters that.”

“Akuma, you said, right?”

“I said some of the villagers were murmuring about it. Didn’t say I believed them.”

“The woman we brought back was mumbling about him too. I think we need to be prepared for the worst here. Things are clearly far worse than I thought. I don’t suppose any horses survived the attack? We should send messengers to warn the nearby towns.”

“No such luck. I’ve already sent runners to Amagasaki and Kurume. Hopefully they’ll be able to send aid soon. Assuming they’re not already in flames.”

“Amagasaki was fine when we passed it. Though the forest wasn’t safe.”

“I sent my two students. They can handle a few monsters.”

“Ah, I’m glad to hear Yasuko and Torio made it. They’ll be fine I’m sure. If I could make it through the woods with farmer boy over there, they can too.” Masami allowed herself a chuckle.

“They did more than just make it, you know. Real troopers, them. They’re the ones who cut down our old comrade.” Takeo puffed his chest. “Couldn’t be more proud of them. They’re shaping up to be real leaders.”

“They have a good mentor to follow. So you’re thinking you’ll turn all of this over to them?”

Takeo sighed and sat down. “I think so. They’re well-liked among the people here. Yasuko especially. They’re both nearly ready, and I’m getting old. It’d be nice for my retirement to be restful for once. Though it looks like that’s a fool’s wish now.” The dim firelight caught the wrinkles on Takeo’s face, and for the first time, Masami could see how drained he truly was.

She reached out and put her right hand on his shoulder. “Your people can rebuild. Toshiro and I will stay as long as we can to help, but I need to get to Takayama sooner rather than later. I’d say I could leave him with you, but somehow I don’t think I’d be able to convince him to stay. Not even sure I should try.”

“Toshiro’s the boy you came in with, right?”

“Yeah. Good lad. Lost his mother to plague when he was a baby, and his father not long after in some turf war. He lives with his grandmother, but Kohaku and I sorta helped raise him. Mostly Kohaku, to be frank. I’m not the most motherly figure in the world. He came galavanting off after me when I left, and, well... I think I need him if I’m going to make it back home safely.”

Takeo nodded. “You always were trying to run off by yourself. So your goal’s Takayama then? Do you really think the source is there again?”

“I do. And the fact that this ‘Akuma’ flew off in that direction makes me even more sure. I really hope it’s not him. Taking him down nearly killed me last time. Gods know it did kill everyone else.”

“You don’t really think -”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Takeo. But clearly what I did to Kenshi back then didn’t work. Why would it have worked for the others?” She snapped, though immediately her face softened. “Sorry. This is just all a lot to deal with. Not that you don’t know that I suppose.”

Takeo chuckled. “Yeah, no kidding. I have to say though, I’m much more optimistic about our chances seeing you back in the robes.”

“I guess. But I’m old, Takeo. Just like you. I can barely walk two thirds as far in a day as I used to. If things go on too long, I’m honestly not sure I’ll make it.”

“Couldn’t you... you know. Lean on the arm a bit more?”

“No. Absolutely not. I’ll use that thing to do as little as I need, and nothing more.”

You know I can hear you when you’re talking in the real world, right boss?

Yeah. And? She did her best shut Jiro out of her thoughts once more.

“Suit yourself. I guess I can’t blame you. And now, it is well past time I got some rest. You too. We’re going to start setting up some more permanent shelters tomorrow. I don’t suppose you’ll hang around to help?” Takeo stood slowly, his joints creaking as he rose.

Masami nodded. “Of course. We can stay for a few days at least to make sure the survivors can get back on their feet. Sleep well, old friend.”

Toshiro had found a secluded place for them to rest against the blackened foundation of what had been a restaurant. He had a small fire going in what remained of the restaurant’s firepit, and was warming a pair of rice balls over the flame. Masami grunted a good night to him and flopped into her bedroll. Now that she was no longer up and active, the aches in her muscles became far more apparent. Her joints screamed in pain. But she gritted her teeth and let sleep take her.

The next morning, the pain had subsided to a dull throb. Despite her exhaustion, Masami rose early and made for the center of town. She took a hatchet from the stash of supplies and headed off towards the forest with a small group of villagers. They worked all morning and much of the afternoon to fell enough young trees for Takeo’s plans. It was difficult work, but work Masami was accustomed to. Hauling the logs back to town was the worst of it, as they had neither rope nor sleds with which to pull them. In the end, they settled on carrying each log back in teams of three or four, and by the late afternoon they had amassed a solid stock of raw wood.

From there they began digging holes into which they placed the ends of the smaller logs. They leaned the logs against each other to form the structures of several large tents. Some of the other villagers stripped the bark from the remaining trunks and began layering it over the poles. The tents weren’t perfect, but they would at least keep the survivors out of the elements.

While most of the townsfolk worked on setting up their temporary homes, the rest set about securing what food had survived the fire. By some miracle, the grain storehouse just north of town had been spared. Its supplies were dwindling this long after the fall harvest, but what remained would be enough to feed the survivors until aid came from Amagasaki and Kurume. Toshiro spent his day ferrying barrels to and from the storehouse, and his night helping to prepare several large pots of porridge. Thankfully many of the metal tools had made it through the fire, and a quick raid of the old restaurant produced plenty of pots and pans to feed the villagers.

By Takeo’s count, only a hundred and fifteen of the village’s nearly three hundred had survived for certain. Many more were missing still, but every corner of the ruins had been scoured by rescue teams already, and there was little hope of finding them. Masami and Toshiro kept to each other’s company once their work was done for the day. Neither knew what to say to calm the shocked, mourning people of Ichinomiya.

The next day, Masami showed some of the laborers how best to split logs into lumber. It was slower, more careful work than felling trees, and required careful planning to get the most out of each log. Once she was satisfied they could manage on their own, she set about helping plan a communal house design. She made sure it was simple enough to construct with minimal tools and experience. After all, she wouldn’t be here to see them built, and none of the surviving villagers knew much about carpentry or construction.

That night, Masami sat down with Takeo to take her supper.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning. I know it’s only been a couple of days, but we should really get moving. Takayama’s a long way off yet, and I want to be sure we keep a good travel pace. Besides, who knows where else might need our help?”

Takeo sighed, but nodded his approval. “I was wondering. We’ll miss the help, but we can take it from here. Spot of luck that this happened early in the year. If you can call anything about it lucky.”

“I know what you mean. I’m sure you’ll be alright, or at least as alright as you can be. Otherwise I wouldn’t be leaving. Hopefully we can resupply in Kurume. It’s only three days’ walk from here, right?”

“At a good pace, yes. Maybe you’ll even run into Yasuko on the way.”

“That’d be nice. She’s a good kid, I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you too. I just hope the bigshots in Kurume decide we’re worthy of help. They’ve never cared much for us, and they make no secret of that fact.”

“I know Lord Kubo fairly well. If Yasuko can’t convince him to send aid, I’ll give it a shot.”

“You mean give him an earful.”

“I didn’t say that.” Masami gave Takeo a wry smile. “I just implied it. He’d damn well better listen to me regardless, he owes me bigtime. The man’s a bastard, but an honorable one. When he’s been properly persuaded, anyway.”

“Ha! I just can’t imagine you saying that back in the day.”

“Yeah, well. A lot of things were different back then.”

“I’ll say. I seem to recall you being enamored with the man.”

“Look. At the time, he gave me the one thing I wanted most. But I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for Satoshi and the others. Regardless of whether he knew or not, he should’ve been more careful.”

“You’d know better than me. Just don’t get him mad, please.”

“I don’t plan to do anything that would jeopardize your chances at getting aid from him. With any luck, Yasuko will have it handled, and I won’t even have to cross paths with him or his men.”

“Here’s hoping. I suppose there’s not much I can do but wait. I should be drafting up the new ledger of supplies. Good luck out there, Masami. I know you can see this thing through.”

“Thanks, Takeo. Guess I’d better get some rest, huh. I’ll be sure to come back with Kohaku when this is all over. For now, I wish you all the best.” She mustered a smile as she stood, before heading back to find Toshiro.

That night they slept near the edge of the survivors’ encampment. Masami’s left arm was aching, as she had kept it hidden in her robes as much as she could the past few days. Out of sight of the villagers though, she let it slip from its sleeve. That night she lay awake for a while, staring at the stars.

About time you let me out, boss.

Yeah yeah. Didn’t want to scare anybody. They’d just seen more than enough demons for a lifetime.

How thoughtful of you.

Look, you can be out all you like for the next few days. We’re going back to where we met, after all. I’m sure Lord Kubo will be happy to see you.

Jiro cackled in Masami’s skull. Good, good! I can’t wait.