The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the forest in a gentle, warm glow. The distant sound of a stream whispered through the trees, blending with the crackling of leaves beneath their feet. Seiji, a young samurai with a reputation that belied his lazy disposition, stumbled slightly as he carried a heavy bundle of firewood. Hanae, a miko whose bright eyes contrasted with the solemn air of the shrine she tended, watched him with a mix of amusement and concern. Her slender figure was draped in the red and white robes of her station, a stark contrast to the vibrant foliage surrounding them.

  They reached a small clearing, a perfect spot for their campfire. The smell of damp earth and the faint scent of pine needles filled the air as they worked together to clear a space. Seiji laid the firewood down with a thump, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  "We're going to need a good fire for this." he said, gesturing to the string of freshly caught fish draped over his shoulder.

  Hanae nodded, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of a hot meal.

  "Let's get to it, then." she replied, her voice as cheerful as the chirping of the crickets that filled the air.

  She rummaged through her pack and pulled out a flint and steel.

  "Here, let me help." she offered, a twinkle in her eye as she struck the flint against the steel, sending sparks flying.

  Seiji leaned back, watching as Hanae's deft hands coaxed a flame to life from the dry grass and leaves they had gathered. He couldn't help but admire her determination, a stark contrast to his own energy-conserving nature. The fire grew, licking at the kindling with an eagerness that mirrored theirs to cook the fish.

  Once the flames were strong enough, Seiji skewered the fish onto wooden sticks with surprising skill, given his usual lethargy. The smell of roasting meat soon mingled with the woody scent of the fire. He held the sticks over the open flame, turning them slowly to ensure an even cook.

  "What a day, huh?" he said, his voice heavy with fatigue as he sat down cross-legged beside the fire.

  "Indeed." Hanae agreed, her smile not wavering as she tended to the cooking, "But remember, our journey has only just begun."

  "Yeah..." he sighed, poking the fire with a stick, sending a shower of sparks up into the air, "Those yōkai today were just the small fry."

  The young miko looked up from the sizzling fish, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

  "The yōkai we faced today were weaker than we expected?" she asked, her voice as gentle as the rustling of the leaves.

  Seiji nodded, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

  "I noticed something... the yōkai today. They weren't as strong as I thought they'd be."

  Hanae looked at Seiji with a knowing smile.

  "The Mitsui Shrine's barrier is still strong, but we're on its outskirts. The yōkai here are the lesser ones, the ones that can't penetrate the seal fully. It's a good sign that we're on the right track." she said, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and wisdom.

  "Oh, so it's all because of the mighty miko of Musashi?" Seiji chuckled, teasing her with a side glance.

  As a glimpse of the blood-red moon began to appear in the sky, Hanae's smugness slipped away, replaced by a sudden seriousness.

  "Actually, it's not entirely a jest. The stories say that Emperor Kondou had a powerful miko at his side, one whose purity could cleanse the land of any curse." her gaze drifted to the horizon as the nightfall painted the sky a deep shade of blue, hinting at the crimson to come.

  The samurai's confusion grew as he watched her.

  "What do you mean? Who was this miko?"

  Miss Mizuki paused, a look of solemnity crossing her face as she began her story.

  "Her name was Lady Tsubaki. A youthful and proud miko, she became the Emperor's spouse, yet she bore him no children."

  Yamada's confusion grew with every word Hanae spoke. He turned the skewered fish with a thoughtful expression, the crackling sound of their dinner punctuating the silence that fell between them.

  "Lady Tsubaki, you say?" he murmured, "Why is her story important to us?"

  Hanae took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving the horizon.

  "Lady Tsubaki was said to be the purest of souls, her love for the Emperor unmatched. But her inability to conceive weighed heavily on her heart. The Emperor, bound by duty, could not acknowledge her as his true wife, despite his affection."

  He listened intently as Miss Mizuki's voice grew softer, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames of their bonfire. He could feel the weight of the ancient story she was sharing, the gravity of its implications sinking in.

  "The night the Blood Moon curse descended..." she continued, "Rumor has it that Emperor Kondou had a fierce argument with Lady Tsubaki. He was torn between his love for her and his duty to produce an heir. In his frustration, he left the palace to walk in the royal woods."

  Seiji leaned in, the crackle of the fire growing quieter in his ears as he focused on Hanae's tale. Her eyes were distant, lost in the whispers of the past.

  "Hinoenma was a yōkai known for her beauty and cunning." she continued, "She promised Emperor Kondou a son if he would grant her his eternal love."

  The boy's eyes widened in disbelief.

  "What happened next?" he prompted, the smell of cooking fish forgotten as he hung on Hanae's every word.

  "The next morning..." Hanae said, her voice now a whisper, "the Emperor was found in a trance beside the same stream we crossed earlier today. Lady Tsubaki was nowhere to be seen. And from that moment, the moon had taken on a crimson hue."

  Seiji's skepticism was palpable.

  "But the council of governors said the Emperor was the one who vanished without a trace." he pointed out, his voice skeptical.

  "This is true, however..." Hanae nodded solemnly, "What I spoke of is but a rumor that echoes through the halls of the Mitsui Shrine. It is not widely known outside its walls. The truth is shrouded in mystery, as much as the fate of Lady Tsubaki."

  Seiji remained silent for a moment as he finished eating his fish. The crackling of the bonfire and the distant howl of a lone wolf were the only sounds to break the tension between them. Hanae watched him, her expression thoughtful.

  Finally, he stood up with a grunt, the flames casting deep shadows across his face. He reached into his leather bag and pulled out two makeshift fur beds. They were small but well-crafted, a testament to his late mother's skill. He laid them out on opposite sides of the fire, one for her and one for himself.

  "You can go to sleep whenever you're ready, Miss Mizuki. I'll keep watch tonight."

  Seiji's voice was firm, yet gentle, as he offered his protection. The girl looked up at him, a mix of gratitude and surprise in her eyes. She knew that despite his laziness, he was capable of great things when the situation demanded it.

  "But, Seiji, you need rest as well. We have a long journey ahead of us." she protested weakly, her voice carrying the unspoken question of whether she could truly trust his vigilance.

  He met her gaze with a firm nod.

  "I'll be fine." he assured her, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, "I've got enough energy saved up from earlier today."

  But as Hanae lay down, the concerned samurai couldn't help but feel the weight of their mission pressing down on him. The yōkai they faced today had been weak, but tomorrow was another day, and with every step they took away from the village, the curse of the Blood Moon grew stronger.

  The fire dwindled, casting flickering shadows across the clearing as the night grew deeper. The sound of the wolf's howl grew closer, sending a shiver down Hanae's spine. She pulled the fur bed closer around herself, the warmth a small comfort in the face of the unknown.

  "If that's what you want..." she whispered to herself as she looked at the young samurai with disappointment, "Dummy."

  With a sigh, she rolled over onto her side, the warmth of the fire lulling her into a fitful slumber. The whispers of the forest grew softer, the flames' dance mesmerizing. Yet, she remained aware of Seiji's silent vigil, his presence a comforting constant.

  Seiji remained seated, his eyes never leaving the red moon that loomed above them. It was a stark reminder of the gravity of their quest. The air grew tense as the creature's howls grew louder, yet Hanae felt a strange sense of peace knowing that Seiji was there, vigilant and prepared to face whatever the night might bring.

  As the fire crackled and spat, throwing sparks into the inky black sky, the flames danced and played, casting a warm, flickering glow across the clearing. The young man's eyes reflected their light as he stared into the heart of the blaze, lost in thought. He pondered the tale of Lady Tsubaki and the mysterious yōkai Hinoenma. Could it be true that the key to ending the curse lay in the fate of these two long-lost figures?

  Stolen novel; please report.

  ***

  Seiji's breath fogged in the cool night air, the only sound the occasional crackle of the campfire. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, eyes straining to pierce the veil of darkness beyond the flickering light. The fire cast eerie shadows that danced across the contours of his weathered hakama, a silent testament to battles fought and battles yet to come. He sat cross-legged, his katana within arm's reach, a silent sentinel under the watchful eyes of the stars.

  The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of ancient secrets and taunts, but the samurai remained steadfast. His training had taught him to filter out the irrelevant and focus on the immediate. The whispers of the yōkai were as much a part of the night as the rustle of leaves and the distant howl of wolves. He had learned to ignore them, to treat them as background noise, lest they lure him into a deadly trap.

  But tonight, something felt different. The whispers grew more insistent, almost as if they were trying to communicate something specific. Seiji's curiosity piqued, he leaned forward slightly, his senses on high alert. The fire crackled again, sending a shower of embers into the night. In that brief moment of light, he saw it: a shadow, darker than the night itself, detaching from the forest's edge and gliding towards the camp. His heart raced, but he remained calm. He knew that panic was the enemy in such situations.

  With silent grace, he rose to his feet, his duty's weight seeming to vanish with his heightened awareness. He took a step closer to the flickering fire, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold fear seeping into his bones. The whispers abruptly ceased, leaving an unnerving silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity. He knew that this was no ordinary yōkai prank; something much more sinister was afoot.

  The young man glanced over his shoulder at Hanae, her peaceful slumber a stark contrast to the tension coiled in the air around them. He didn't want to alarm her, not unless it was absolutely necessary.

  "We'll succeed, Miss Mizuki... I promise." he whispered, trying to reassure himself of the mission they had.

  Seiji took a deep breath, letting the crisp night air fill his lungs as he steeled himself for the unknown. His sandals made no sound as he stepped out of the firelight's embrace, the darkness of the forest swallowing him whole. The moon cast a crimson hue over the landscape, painting everything in a stark, unearthly light. He moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior, his eyes scanning the shadows, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. Every step brought him closer to the edge of the camp, the whispers now a distant memory as he focused solely on the present.

  Then, directly into his mind, the voice boomed once more, this time with clarity and power, saying only one word:

  "Muramasa..."

  Young Yamada's heart skipped a beat. That was the name of his blade, a treasured gift from his late sensei. The significance was not lost on him. He had heard of yōkai who could mimic the voices of the dead or the loved ones of their prey, but he had never encountered one that could speak directly into the mind.

  He mentally called out, "Who are you? What do you want?"

  The silence was shattered as the Tsuchigumo yōkai emerged from the shadows, its massive form a grotesque tapestry of earth and darkness. The monstrous spider's eyes glowed malevolently, reflecting the moon's red light like twin embers of malice. It was a monstrosity that seemed to have been born from the very fabric of the night itself, a creature of myth made terrifyingly real before his eyes.

  "Ah, so this is the last piece of work from the legendary blacksmith of the Toshiyasu clan?" the spider-like being said, its voice echoing in Seiji's mind without the need for air or form, "Your blade is indeed a masterpiece, but it could never match the power of the one who wielded it last against me. Old Muramasa was a worthy opponent, but his pride was his downfall."

  The boy felt a surge of anger at the creature's boast, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. The idea that his precious weapon had a bloody history with this creature was too much to bear.

  He took a step forward, his voice low and filled with venom.

  "You dare to speak of his death so casually?"

  Seiji's voice was a low growl, a thundercloud of rage brewing behind his eyes. The Tsuchigumo merely chuckled, its laughter a rumble that seemed to shake the very earth beneath them.

  "Foolish human..." the creature jeered, its many legs shifting in a grotesque dance of amusement, "Do you truly believe that a mere mortal blade can harm the likes of me?"

  "..."

  Seiji didn't answer. Instead, he drew Muramasa with a swift, precise motion, the steel singing as it left its scabbard. The air around the sword seemed to crackle with unseen energy, a testament to its enchanted nature. The Tsuchigumo's smile widened, revealing a row of gleaming fangs.

  "Haha." it taunted, "You think your frail human hands can defeat me?"

  The creature lunged forward, its shadowy limbs reaching for Hanae's still form. Yamada's instincts took over, his sword a silver streak through the night as he tried to protect her. But as Muramasa's blade passed through the yōkai's body, it dissipated like black smoke, leaving him stunned and off-balance.

  "You dare threaten her!" he bellowed, the fury in his voice shaking the very leaves of the trees. The Tsuchigumo laughed, the sound grating against Seiji's nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

  "Your human emotions are so... quaint." it sneered, "But your blade, it holds a power I wish to claim for myself."

  The prodigy's mind raced as he recalled the whispers he heard earlier, piecing together the puzzle of the creature's intent. The Tsuchigumo had lured his companions away, leaving the shrine maiden unguarded. A cold realization settled over him. This was no random encounter; it was a calculated move by a cunning predator.

  "How was that possible?!" he thought to himself, his mind racing with the implications of such a deceitful tactic.

  "Tonight, I will feast on both you and the girl." the Tsuchigumo announced with a gleeful cackle, "It is a shame that the others have gone to chase another girl in the outskirts of Goh village. Well, more for me!"

  Seiji's eyes narrowed, his breaths coming out in sharp gasps. He knew the whispers he heard were a ruse to lure him away from the true target - the realization was a cold knife in his gut. Without hesitation, he sprinted back to the camp, his heart pounding like a taiko drum. The fur bed lay empty, the furs rumpled but no sign of Hanae. Panic flooded his veins, turning his blood to ice.

  The Tsuchigumo's chuckle grew fainter as it retreated into the woods, and Seiji knew he had been played.

  "You bastard!" he roared into the night, his voice a mix of anger and fear.

  There, the relentless creature's game had become clear: it had wanted him distracted and vulnerable, separated from the one he swore to protect. He knew he had to find Hanae before it was too late.

  But as he reached the camp, the whispers grew louder once again. This time, however, they weren't the taunts of the Tsuchigumo. They were Hanae's voice, faint but clear, guiding him through the trees. He followed the sound, his eyes darting through the darkness, until he saw a flicker of movement.

  "Miss Mizuki!" he let out a cry of relief, after seeing that his childhood friend was unharmed.

  The creature had underestimated the young miko. Hanae had been awake, aware of the danger lurking outside. She had listened to the whispers, understanding them as a ploy to separate her from Seiji. With trembling hands, she had gathered her strength and her trusty ofuda, a paper talisman that she hoped would be enough to ward off the yōkai.

  "This will be your end, vile creature!" the girl then proclaimed, about to begin her exorcism ritual.

  As the Tsuchigumo's shadowy form disappeared into the trees with Seiji in pursuit, Hanae knew she had to act. She waited, her heart pounding like a thousand drums in her chest, for the moment she knew the creature would return. And when it did, she was ready. She stepped from her hiding place, the moonlight catching the edge of her ofuda talisman as she held it out in a shaking hand.

  The yōkai's scream echoed through the night, a sound of pure frustration and surprise. It had not anticipated Hanae's cunning, nor her ability to resist its mental manipulation.

  "ARGHH!!! WHERE IS SHE?!" it roared, its eyes scanning the area around the camp.

  Hanae stepped out from behind the ancient oak tree, her heart racing but her expression resolute. In her trembling hand, she clutched an ofuda, a paper talisman imbued with sacred energy. She knew the risks of confronting such a powerful creature alone, but she had no other choice.

  The Tsuchigumo's eyes widened in shock at her sudden appearance, the malevolent grin fading from its grotesque features.

  "H-How...?" it hissed, its voice a mix of anger and fear, "You should not be here, little miko."

  "Face your own darkness and leave this world once and for all!"

  Without hesitation, Hanae threw the ofuda with all her might, the paper fluttering through the air like a fiery comet. As it struck the Tsuchigumo's chest, the yōkai recoiled, emitting a sound that was part scream, part roar. The air around it grew hot and thick, and she felt the power of the talisman surging as it seared into the creature's shadowy flesh.

  The Tsuchigumo's eyes grew wide with rage and fear, and it lunged at her, its fangs bared. But the young miko stood her ground, reciting ancient prayers that echoed through the silent night, her voice steady despite her slim body. The talisman burned with a holy light that seemed to consume the very darkness that made up the creature's form. It writhed and twisted, trying to escape the searing pain, but the seal held firm.

  "NOOO!!!"

  With a final, desperate growl, the yōkai dissipated into the air, leaving nothing behind but the acrid scent of burnt ozone. The talisman, now nothing but a handful of ashes, fell to the ground. Hanae stumbled backward, her legs feeling like jelly, the tremors of the sudden exertion finally taking their toll. But she knew she had done it; she had protected herself and bought precious time for Seiji to return.

  Seiji's alarmed call pierced the silence, and she managed to whisper, "I'm here!" before her legs gave way. He came running, the thunder of his footsteps shaking the earth beneath him. He scooped her up into his arms as she collapsed, his eyes wide with relief and admiration.

  "Hanae!" he exclaimed, holding her close, "Are you alright?"

  As her eyes fluttered open, a hint of a smile played on her lips.

  "I guess our next destination is the village of Goh, then..." she murmured before succumbing to the weight of her exhaustion.

  Her eyes closed, and she slipped into a deep sleep, her body going limp in his arms. Seiji's heart ached at the sight of her, but he knew that the danger had not yet fully passed. Carefully, he laid her down on her fur bed, ensuring she was comfortable and safe from harm.

  The whispers had stopped, the night now eerily silent once more. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, to process what had just transpired. The Tsuchigumo was gone, but the encounter left him with an uneasy feeling. The creature had known about the blade, about its past, and about the bond between him and his sensei. It was as if it had read his soul, and the idea left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  A calm Yamada then looked down at the girl, her chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. Despite her ordeal, she had managed to fend off the yōkai. He was in awe of her strength and resilience. Carefully, he tucked her in, ensuring she was warm and safe. He whispered a silent prayer to the gods for her protection, his eyes lingering on her peaceful face.

  When he looked up again, the sky had begun to lighten. The crimson moon had set, and in its place, the first rays of the dawn were breaking through the dense canopy of the forest. He let out a sigh of relief, the tension of the night finally leaving him as the world around them began to stir with new life.

  "Miss Mizuki..." he murmured to himself, a hint of amusement in his voice, "You really know how to keep a guy on his toes."

  The first light of dawn painted the horizon with a soft palette of pinks and oranges, a stark contrast to the crimson night they had just endured. Seiji's smile grew as he gazed down at Hanae, her features serene despite the horrors they had just faced. He knew that they had to move quickly if they were to reach Goh and warn the villagers of the yōkai's presence. With a gentle sigh, he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

  The campfire was now nothing more than smoldering embers, the heat from the flames long gone. The young man added more wood to the fire, coaxing it back to life with a soft murmur of encouragement. As the flames grew, casting warm light on their surroundings, he took a moment to appreciate the quiet beauty of the forest at dawn. It was a stark reminder that even in the darkest of moments, there was always a promise of a new day.

  Seiji's gaze fell upon the trail road a few steps from them, the path to the north that would lead them to Goh. The dusty, winding road was like a serpent in the grass, promising safety but holding the potential for more danger. He knew that the Tsuchigumo was not the only yōkai that roamed these lands, and with every step they took, they drew closer to the heart of the unknown's territory.