~~~

Eyes may have been a bit premature as, almost instantly, the turquoise blue mist broke out of their orb shape and darted right towards the married cultists, followed swiftly by the yellow demon’s arms.

‘Again?’ it said in a voice that seemed to ripple as if it had come from the depths of a lake.

Miho watched as both his namesake and her husband stuttered and nudged each other in their green robes, until finally the demon gave up waiting and answered for them.

‘You got bored. Desperate for more aura.’

‘No…it was a coincidence, we swear,’ spurted out of Matsu’s mouth, but the yellow demon swatted the words out of the air and turned to frown at the surrounding walls.

‘And this place…still the same…after I distinctly told you it was cramped and murky-looking.’

‘But it is ceremonial, and well hidden,’ replied the female Miho. ‘For the initial ritual, I mean. Of course, you are more than welcome to go outside and bathe in the fresh night air.’

The yellow demon grunted and walked a curved line over to the stairs, the turquoise mist again stretching out of the sockets like a scouting party. Then they hit a human brick wall and reeled back in, forcing the demon’s legs to come to a stop, too.

In front, blocking access to the stairs, was Miho in statue form.

Move did prod against the door of his brain, but, for some reason, he couldn’t seem to enact it. His legs were completely rigid and his arms didn’t even rise up to offer the most basic of defensive postures.

Luckily, the yellow demon didn’t appear to care, gently pushing Miho’s shoulder to the side as it moved forward, and then shouting back, ‘door better not be locked,’ when it’d scaled the first few steps.

As soon as the chamber was clear, Matsu and Miho lost all interest in being there and quickly rushed after the yellow guy, while Miho stood gormless for a few extra seconds, looking at the bowl of murky liquid that had produced the showy effect, before hurrying after them.

The door hadn’t been locked, thank gods, and when he made it back out of the fake wood storage shack, he looked straight over to the path leading to the guest room.

In his short experience of demon activity, they tended to eat people’s heads, or threatened to slice them up into pieces, and if his body wasn’t up to scratch or appetising enough then either Akira’s or Aya’s might be.

Assuming they were both in the room.

Akira probably was - his snoring had been apocalyptic - but Aya. He’d only been down in the ritual cave for about ten minutes, there was a good chance she still hadn’t returned.

If she was ever going to…

Voices round the side of the wood shack lured him away from Aya speculation and back to the matter at hand. A yellow demon plus two fanatics planning to do something that required drugged wine and unconscious victims.

He edged round the path and, avoiding loose twigs on the ground, pursued the voices.

It didn’t take long to find the source.

Matsu and Miho were both on their knees, holding out what looked like fallen leaves as an offering, while the yellow demon had one hand held flat against the trunk of a particularly large tree, muttering some occult language nonsense.

There was no real way to know what the hell was happening unless he stepped in and asked them directly, but Miho didn’t feel comfortable doing that as all three of them looked insane.

‘We have offered our room to three travellers, including a vulnerable, young girl. And other travellers too, on different days,’ said Matsu, shaking the leaf in his hand.

‘And we have given money to beggars who appeared genuine,’ added Miho.

The yellow demon broke off from its tree meditation song, took one of their leaves and wiped the palm of its hand. Its eyes were still closed [or orbs of mist, technically] and remained so as it manoeuvred around the lunatic couple and made its way over to Miho’s position.

Stopping a little to the side, it clamped the same palm it’d used to touch the tree on Miho’s shoulder, asking in a much less submerged voice, ‘what the hell is someone like you doing here?’

Miho’s first instinct was to stutter like the couple earlier, but some part of his brain kept it together enough to respond with, ‘just passing through.’

‘What about your clan?’

‘Err…my family?’

The demon tilted its head right, at quite an awkward angle, then removed its hand from Miho’s shoulder and performed a series of patting motions down the side of his arm.

‘I don’t have a weapon,’ Miho said, confused yet making no move to resist.

Finally, after bending down and doing the same action on Miho’s leg, the yellow demon let out a soft growl and said, ‘your family. Yes.’

‘Well…my dad is dead…last year…and my mum is back home in my village.’

‘That’s where you were raised?’

‘Err…yes. Nambu.’

‘Any friends?’

‘Some. Most of the time. River Bitch. Kentaro 2. Spiritual Chiyo…before she got taken away.’

‘And with you now…passing through here?’

Miho looked over at the door panel leading back into the main house. Should he mention Akira? Did he qualify in any way as a friend?

‘Ah, they are resting,’ concluded the yellow demon, taking Miho by the sleeve of his yukata. ‘Show me.’

‘Yes, the other two,’ said Matsu, re-joining them with a fresh supply of leaves. ‘This way, let us show you.’

‘They’re both a little rough,’ said the female Miho, ‘if you give them the chance to talk. Especially the girl. Very petulant.’

‘Hey…’ Miho said, thinking of Matsu and his wandering hands. And his wife’s too, now that he thought about it.

‘Go to your room,’ said the demon, putting an arm out like a stone wall. ‘I will call on you before I leave.’

‘But…we haven’t described all our benevolent activities yet.’

‘We can show you the rice paper with the thank you messages.’

‘Your room,’ the demon repeated.

Hesitating a little then bowing obsequiously, both Matsu and the female Miho returned to the front of their own house, dropping the leaves like cigarette butts on the way.

‘Why do they do all this?’ asked Miho, watching them go, then refocusing on the yellow claw stuck to his sleeve.

‘Boredom. Fear. Sexual desire. The Lake Suwa effect.’

‘Huh?’

‘The bigger question is why I don’t take back their summoning stone. Relieve myself of all this…activity. Ah, whimsy, I suppose.’ The yellow demon tugged lightly on Miho’s sleeve, acting out a smile that may have been intended as jovial, but caught the moonlight at an odd angle and instead made it look homicidal. ‘Come, onwards to your room. Show me these friends of yours.’

~~~

The room was still Aya-less when Miho slid open the door panel and poked his head inside, but Akira’s snoring was going strong.

Which was odd as his body was wrapped up tight in the blanket, not a loose bit of material in sight, almost like he’d been prepped for burial the next day.

‘Is he dead?’ asked the yellow demon, stepping into the room after Miho.

In an act of unconscious defiance, Akira’s splint arm shot out from the beneath the covers, accompanied by a vocal warning not to go in the river.

‘Ah, never mind.’

‘He had a lot to drink,’ Miho said, edging round to the okiandon and placing his hand on top.

‘And where is the other friend?’

‘I’m not sure. Actually, I was looking for her earlier. She went out for a walk, said she doesn’t sleep easily…maybe cos of recent events…but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I was hoping she’d be back by now.’

‘Perhaps she felt uneasy about sharing a futon with this one?’

‘Yeah. That’s also true.’

Miho nodded for extra effect, or credit, then flinched as a mosquito buzzed past his ear. He instinctively tried to lash out, but it was too fast, zig-zagging over to the futon and settling on Akira’s splint, which was lying exposed outside the blanket.

It stayed there a good while, sucking up the ashigaru’s shōchū-infused blood…and didn’t seem to have a limit. Was there a secret spiritual realm set up to store all that blood it was taking in?

Knowing that he should at least swat it away, Miho crept forward and slid his hand through the air until it was hovering over the mosquito.

The little insect was still gorging itself, and it seemed almost sad to kill it in this way but…

His hand dived down quickly, then stopped…held by some invisible force.

Finally sensing its potential demise, the mosquito stopped drinking and flew off towards the open door panel.

‘That is a living creature…’ said the yellow demon, the turquoise mist orbs that sometimes doubled as eyes shimmering as it spoke.

‘Sorry…we usually hit them. It’s normal.’

‘Not a good excuse.’

The yellow demon dimmed the glow of its orbs and moved to the wall near the okiandon. Aya’s bag was dumped there, a sign, at least, that she intended to come back at some point, and the yellow demon picked at its drawstring.

Miho felt life return to his hand and wiggled his fingers to confirm it. ‘Did you just freeze my hand?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Take over my brain?’

The yellow demon dipped its hand all the way inside Aya’s bag and muttered to itself in a language that was similar to the one used by the tree trunk, one that definitely wasn’t Japanese. Or human, even.

On the futon, Akira mumbled in unison, something about doing the same scam fourteen times.

Miho put the blanket back over the ashigaru’s arm, frowning. Scam? What scam? Why would anyone need to do it fourteen times? The smiling image of the belt merchant popped back into Miho’s head, making him shiver.

‘You shouldn’t get too close to him,’ said the yellow demon, standing by the door panel, apparently finished with Aya’s bag.

‘He’s asleep…’

‘Characters of his type…they care about one thing only. Survival.’

‘Err…’

‘Trust my words. The next town you come to, detach from this rogue. Take the girl with you.’

Miho raised his head, glancing at Aya’s bag as if she were about to spring out of it.

‘Don’t worry, she’ll be here when you wake up.’

‘You can see her?’

The yellow demon put its hand on the door panel, closing its eyes [or orbs of mist, technically] and letting out a tiny wail. ‘I have traced her. Now, I must go and deal with those persistent stalkers before they tire.’

‘Wait…’ said Miho stretching out a hand. ‘Do you have to go?’

‘Have to is a strong word.’

‘I mean…there are some things I wanted to ask you, about your world.’

‘Such as?’

Miho lowered his hand, dismissing the first question in the queue – why is your skin yellow? – and the second – are you it, he, she or they? - and the third, the fourth, the fifth…then saying, ‘kuso,’ when Akira’s knee rose up and hit him in the waist.

‘Perhaps too much pressure,’ said the yellow demon, smirking. ‘Though let me ask you something. Why is it you feel such comfort in the presence of a yellow-skinned demon from a different dimension?’

‘Err…I don’t know.’

‘Have you met my kind before? Or is it the Lake Suwa effect washing over you?’

‘Actually…there was one…no, two demons. In the last week.’

‘I see. Yellow like myself?’

‘No. One of them had a kind of green…appearance…and the other was a beautiful woman in a yukata.’

‘Doesn’t sound particularly demonic.’

‘She wasn’t…until she turned into purple mist and threatened to kill me.’

The yellow demon’s turquoise orbs swirled and then lashed out in glowing tendrils, left, right, diagonal down, up towards the ceiling. Its claw gripped the door panel so tight it almost snapped a giant splinter off of it.

‘Do you know her?’

It took a moment, but the orbs finally relaxed and the door panel won back its freedom.

‘I deal with her kind from time to time, yes. A mercurial sort, vicious at times. Tell me, how is it that you survived your encounter?’

‘Honestly, I’m still not really sure. She just swirled around a bit then disappeared back into the forest. That was the last I saw of her.’

‘Ah, a range issue, perhaps.’

‘A what?’

‘You seem like a kind, amiable person, Miho,’ the yellow demon continued, reaching its fingers into the skin of its own waist and, with minimal pain or effort, pulling out a small, jagged stone. ‘And I fear for you. Especially in a place as superstitious-…as unhinged as Lake Suwa.’

‘It’s okay, we’re not staying. Further north is our target.’

‘Good, good. You should go there fast. And if things seem bleak, drop this stone into any body of water, call for Vit’oona Zah and I will come. But, please…don’t overuse it like those two.’

Miho let the yellow demon open up his palm and place the stone gently on top. Thankfully, it didn’t fold its fingers over it as the edges were quite sharp. It did, however, place its knuckles on Miho’s temple and repeat Vit’oona Zah about ten times, which was a relief as he’d already started to forget it.

‘It is etched now,’ the yellow demon said, removing its hand. ‘Impossible to forget.’

‘Vit’oona Zah,’ whispered Miho, more to himself than the demon.

‘Now I really must leave. I can hear the moans from the other room.’

‘Err…’

‘Complaining noises.’

‘Oh.’

The pale blue orbs shimmered again and then evaporated into the air, along with the rest of the yellow-skinned demon, who managed a not very soothing wink as it faded out.

‘Not that house…’ shouted Akira, shooting his whole body up this time and reaching for his katana.

Which wasn’t there.

Kuso, thought Miho, remembering the chamber under the wood shack where he’d dropped the blade on the ground and then forgotten all about it.

‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he said, heading out the doorway, giving a clenched fist of support to a dazed-looking Akira.

‘Wood’s all wrong, too many windows,’ replied the ashigaru, lowering himself back down and pulling the covers over.