Calamity

[Mallory]

June 4th, 2018 - the first day of Eri's death.

In the twenty-four hours following Eri's death, Mallory spent most of them busier than she thought possible, much busier than she had any desire to be, but she repeated the mantra "this is temporary" as many times as it took, through cleaning her body and strained conversations and unbidden tears, and reminded herself that all of it was necessary. The less mess that Eri woke up to, the better.

She cleaned her girlfriend's body in the old stables off the garage, dressing her in the clean, comfortable sweatpants and tee shirt she sometimes slept in, and moved her up to the small, windowless room on the second floor that she used for ritual magic. She folded a thick blanket under her body, placed a pillow under her head, and left a note on the floor nearby:

You're safe at home. I'm here, or nearby.
<3 Mallory <3

She locked the door with a blood-inscribed sigil, and left the password (Anno Peccatum) with a handful of trusted individuals, including Saori.

She reached out to the people she needed to. She contacted Cane and Vash at Panacea to ask for time off, Safiya to tell her that she couldn't help with setting up the Lyceum for a few days, Trick to tell him what happened and hear his voice, and Sapphire to do the same. She waited at the kitchen table, unsure of how much time passed before Trick's call.

She hadn't slept since she had woken up in bed next to Eri that night.

[Saori Sato]

Saori looked up at the faintly humming lights along the ceiling of the Sunny Mart storeroom, rubbing her forehead just over her right eye with her fingertips. She looked tired and worried, but was taking her phone from her pocket now to send a message to Aya:

can you meet me at the store?

It took four minutes but the response of 'omw but it will be a bit' lit up Saori's phone.

The estimation for the Heavenly Queen's return rounded up to twenty-eight minutes, but better late than never. Light weight yet durable linked chains could be seen poking out from the collar of her darkly stained stealth attire. Her mask off, as she had tugged it down to bunch at her neck as she entered through the Sunny Marts sliding entry way. "I'm here."

In the time between the response and the arrival of Aya at the store, Saori leaned back in the chair she occupied at the table in the corner of the storeroom. She only moved when Aya arrived, the chair legs hitting the floor. "Thanks for coming," she said, getting up to walk to the cooler and take a bottle of cola from it. "I need to ask another favor," she added as she returned to hand over the drink.

"If it's about wanting me to do more thorough interrogations... I wouldn't be opposed." While Eri might disagree with her methods, Aya didn't see the harm in removing fingernails and breaking bones to get the answers she needed; or to get a point across. She took the cola and pressed the chilled bottle to her cheek. Her return to Kabuki had been in a hurry and visibly seen by the reddening of her face.

Saori stopped with her hands resting on the back of one of the chairs as she thought that over. "Well, if we find any of the stragglers, it will be a benefit to get that kind of thing done. I think Eri just doesn't want to know about it," she said reflectively. Finally she pulled the chair out and sat. "What I need to ask tonight is... would you be available to stay in town tonight and take over sukeban duties if Eri hasn't returned by morning? I may need to take a trip on short notice. With the sub-unit you lead, you are the only one that can hold down security here at a time we might be vulnerable. If word gets out that Eri is out of action, others might think it's time to attack."

Aya knew not to bring things up with Eri. She had once and the half-oni ordered her to give those who Aya had been questioning food and medical attention instead. Needless to say, they were given both, but a phonebook and sleep deprivation acted as a good choice of secondary options when Aya went back to questioning. This new matter wouldn't be getting the phonebook treatment though.

The question of becoming sukeban, even if for the night or some days after, it wasn't one Aya could answer right away. She started as a lowly lackey, worked her way up to Heavenly Queen but even that had been a hollow won victory when the former gave her the task instead of the ex-shinobi winning in through challenge. And now, here she is, feeling the same hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. Aya knew the situation, but it nevertheless felt odd being asked. It wasn't in her neatly packed plan titled: How to become Sukeban and make everyone bow to my greatness.

"Sure." Lackluster. That's what the response felt like to her, but with her tone it came off as serious and understanding. Even with the sour taste in her mouth Aya furrowed her brows in thought. "Do we act like Eri is fine and I'm playing kageban, or am I sitting in the chair?" There's a brief look to the plastic Ikea chair.

Saori seemed distracted and careworn, but there was a look of real gratitude on her face upon hearing Aya's agreement to her request. Her dark eyes swept over the plastic chair with a twinge of sadness visible in them for a moment. "Take on being sukeban. Including the chair. All the delinquents know the real score, but don't let any gossip get outside the group that she's not just taking a trip if we can help it," Saori decided after a brief period of thought. "That is not entirely untrue, in this case"

"How bad is it really?" Aya's words came as her silent steps brought her closer to the chair. Her fingers brushed against the armrest as she circled. It was only after one pass that she decided to lower herself to sit. It wasn't as comfortable as the leather chair she dragged to Kabuki from New Haven, but that discomfort came with the weight of the position it seemed. In a way, it was fitting.

Saori stared across the table, watching as Aya settled in the now famed white plastic chair. She answered in a soft voice, surprisingly earnest in contrast to her reputation of being of few words. "Well, since killing Eri is not as straightforward, really just the shock of it. I mean I'm grouchy, but she is my sister. We are not so far apart in age. I can't remember a time when Eri was not also with me. And losing four of our sisters besides. Someone will pay for that. They must answer for it."

"...I'll do my part and sit in this chair," she'd start while her eyes focused on the table in deep thought. Her own pride and wants could be set aside. Blood for blood, that's the command of her inward voice resounding in her head. "...But you better use that oni strength of yours to crush as many skulls as possible..." She looked up to Saori. "That's my first order as Sukeban. No mercy. Even if they beg, you put them down."

The first order helped Saori to snap out of her sadness, bringing some vigor back to her expression and posture that banished her fatigue. A small smile even showed on her lips as she stood from the table. "I give you my word on it," she promised as she stretched. "No quarter asked for or given." Appropriately, she reached to the side of the table to retrieve her iron studded club, resting it on her shoulder. "For now I'm going to go out and do some more looking."

"Manami and Riho will be acting as my eyes and ears out there, so keep them in the loop if anything happens... Oh," The latter part of that came with a press of hands to the table so she could stand up. It was said in a way to catch Saori's attention before she left. "I'm calling in the Mazoku... Hopefully all the beer they can drink and the promise of getting first dibs on whatever the enemy have on them is enough to entice them down from the mountain. So, don't worry. Kabuki will be safe. You focus on vengeance."

Saori stopped and looked back, looking a little surprised. "The Mazoku... that's a good idea. I think they will have good favor to the idea, for beer and first pick of the loot," she nodded again, tapping the heavy club against her shoulder. "I got Manami and Riho's numbers earlier. I'll be in touch with all three of you"

Aya nodded once and pursed her lips. A ticking of seconds passing and then she'd suddenly raise and slam palms down against the table. Right now wasn't the time for quiet words. Her voice loud and boisterous. She wanted even the girls outside to hear it. Cry in private, scream for revenge in the open. They were yanki. "FUCK THEM UP SAORI! NO ONE FUCKS WITH KABUKI!"

((Written with Aya's player!))

[Mallory]

Mallory awoke to the smell and sound of grilled cheese in the pan, and the familiar shape of her blue-haired friend cooking in her kitchen.

Things were a little better with Sapphire in the house. Every phonecall she had to make seemed to take a little piece away from her, as she talked to Saori and had to tell her there was no change, and listened to the funeral plans. They were going to cremate the girls who had fallen last night. But when she talked to a friend face to face, or just sat with them in companionable silence, the pieces started to wiggle and shift back into place. Things would be alright.

She made up the guest room for Sapphire for the night, but did not stay in her own bedroom. She went downstairs and cleared out a space beside Eri's body, placing hundreds of candles and lighting more than seventy, and continued the ritual with the inscription of a sigil and a shallow, precise cut just above her left hip. She watched the half-oni's pale, silent face while she waited for the spell to take effect and the new wound to close.

After she was done, she laid on the living room couch to read, holding up her tablet and scrolling through scanned and translated texts on kami, oni, and the underworld realm of Yomi-no-kuni. Eventually her eyes grew heavy and the tablet fell into her lap, and an unwanted sleep claimed the next several hours.

[Mallory]

June 5th, 2018 - the second day.

It was a hot, sunny day, oppressive and distracting weather while the girls of Kabuki Street honored the memories of Yuka, Chinami, Lucky, and Sumire. Mallory wore a black dress, but no veil; today was for the four of them, and Eri was only sleeping. Only a few days, and the half-oni would find her way out of the realm of the dead, use her terrible strength to roll the boulder away, and return to the land of the living.

Manami said little, visibly miserable with guilt, but she willingly held Mallory's hand while they listened and prayed.

The witch came back to a much cleaner house, and filled with the smell of Sapphire's cooking and baking. There was nothing else to take care of today, so the half-fae recommended a movie and the witch automatically agreed. She would have agreed to any choice.

She moved a few things into what she had already started thinking of as Eri's room, for the duration of her stay. One of the security girls had taken it upon herself to clean the hobnail boots she'd worn to the fight and set them by the front door, so Mallory took them in and laid them by her feet. Yuko had cleaned and darned the silk jacket Eri had worn the night before, and Mallory hammered in a hook to hang it by the door of the little room, so she could grab it on her way out. She made a wide loop with her left ring finger, and a circle of belladonna flowers dangled from the doorknob.

That had been too much for her, it turned out.

Late at night, after Sapphire was asleep and Mallory was done with her ritual, she returned to her empty bedroom to collect the scrying tools, still right where she'd left them on the night Eri had died. She scrubbed out the bowl in the kitchen sink, placed it in the center of the library, and bled into it until she had enough to find Eri. Then she dropped the musketball into it and traced a lock of the delinquent's hair around the outside edge, until the musketball slowly, steadily climbed up the outside, nearly spilling out, hovering near the edge and rolling ever so slightly.

Twenty-two miles, north-northwest, but moving east, slow and steady.

[Mallory]

June 6th, 2018 - the third day.

Mallory woke up from a short, restless sleep at dawn, curled up under a Dockside Djinni blanket on the living room couch. The gray light of the early morning gave her surroundings a dull, muted air. It felt as if she was not completely tuned into this frequency, but she wasn't sure how to find the dial to realign her world.

It wasn't quite hope that moved her feet down the hallway and around the corner but something more desperate, with a frantic pounding in her chest driving her on. She murmured the Latin phrase to unlock the door and twisted the handle, opening it enough to give her a sliver of whatever lay within.

Eri's face was pale and still, her hands folded over her chest, positioned exactly as she had seen her the night before. There was no smell in the room except for the smoke from the candles and her own blood, and the faint whiff of drying belladonna flowers dangling from the doorknob. She pulled the door shut and pressed her hands and brow flat against its dark-stained wooden surface. Fingernails drummed out a faster and faster beat as she tried to think it through.

Eri had been dead -- not dead, regenerating -- for fifty-four hours. Roka had done it in less than twenty-four, but he was a full-blooded oni, unlike his daughters. And Eri was moving -- adjacent to this plane, given the slow crawl of her scrying, but close to the exit if she could be scryed at all.

She retrieved the clay bowl from the chest in the library and bled as much as she reasoned she deserved. Then she repeated last night's scrying spell, and watched the musketball crawl up the side again, this time much faster than before.

She's found the exit.

Twenty-one miles, north-northwest, but this time it hung in exactly the same place. Not even the slightest wiggle.

She's not moving.

The conclusion struck her seconds later, and she pushed off from the floor and bounded down the hall. "She's moving the boulder!" she cried out as she raced down the stairs, bare feet sliding on the floor as she rounded corners. She barely breathed the password to the door as she threw it open.

Eri's body lay exactly where she had left it. The witch waited with an eager grin while she caught her breath. With the boulder moved, the half-oni's spirit would snap back to its body and renew it.

She heard Sapphire shifting upstairs to investigate the flurry of noise, calling out the witch's name questioningly. By the time her friend stepped up behind her, the grin had melted away to a look of confusion. "Mal..."

The witch looked over her shoulder and into Sapphire's eyes, and shook her head slowly. "She's... I just thought she was..."

The half-fae curled an arm around Mallory's to pull her away and gave her a reassuring smile: "Give her time."

[Mallory]

Mallory had attempted scrying Eri's location three times with no results by the time RJ showed up to the house with paper bags packed with food tucked under his arms. People always brought food when someone died, and she wasn't sure why. She didn't feel hungry. Maybe that was why -- to remind the living to eat.

Not dead, she reminded herself, and gave RJ a soft if weary smile while he searched her face with a look of open concern on his own. She imagined he could read a lot from however she looked right now, which she wasn't sure about at the moment.

Probably not great.

Sapphire watched her at first while she stood in the kitchen, steadily unpacking food into the pantry and fridge, then moved to join her. It was simple but distracting work, requiring nothing more than the automatic motions of putting things where they belonged until nothing was left, as she and Eri had done dozens of times before. Then she folded up the paper bags into a neat little pile on the counter and held them flat under her fingers. Almost done.

"Mal?"

She'd lost time. A minute, maybe more. Sapphire was looking at her the same way RJ had, and more than one of the girls in the rengou-kai had, too. She felt as stupid and useless as she had when she'd texted her brother this morning, in a stronger wave than last time.

She's dead.

You can't find her.

She'll come back on her own.

Or she's gone for good.

"I just need to lie down." The words surprised the witch, unaware that they had been waiting in her mouth until they spilled out. Bleeding for the scrying spells -- the failures -- had dragged her down as much as any other factor, and her eyes felt heavy. Her friend didn't let her leave without a bottle of juice and a granola bar, and she took a few swigs and a few nibbles before retreating to the L-shaped couch in the living room.

Sleeping there had left an indent, next to the shape the delinquent left in her favorite spot for getting stoned together and watching cartoons. She rolled over to put her back to it and stared at the armrest until her eyes willed themselves shut.

[Mallory]

It was hard to concentrate on the ritual that night. Part of it was the exhaustion from bleeding again and again to scry Eri's spirit on the border of this plane, and finding her in the exact same place -- unmoving -- just the same as the body laying beside her in the small windowless room.

Part of it was the fact that tonight seemed to hurt so much harder, worse than the first night, the first time the half-oni had pressed a dagger through the witch's hand in pursuit of her goal.

Their goal.

She poised the knife above her left thigh, centered perfectly above the sigil, and pushed down with all of her strength. The skin and muscle beneath gave way maddeningly slow as the pain flared through her body, and she bit her lip to stop herself screaming until she bled there, too.

The flames flickered and darkened as the little thread of power anchored in the Veil stretched deeper into her body, but she could still see Eri's face in the darkness, as beautiful and cold and still as a sarcophagus.

The knife bit as deep as it needed to go and Mallory slid it out, letting it skitter across the floor through unlit candles as she fell back against the wall. She slapped and pounded at the floor as she wept through the pain, and the walls shook and creaked with each strike as the shadows stretched away from her. The power spreading through her body burned like fire, trying to force its way through until it came off of her in waves of darkness, smashing against the carefully layered wards that protected this room like waves against the rocks. The ache of it moved deeper and deeper into her body, until she couldn't contain her scream any longer:

"I wasn't supposed to do this alone!"

She fell forward next to Eri's face, crawling up to the edge of the bedroll, the delinquent's pale face blurred by the tears in her eyes as she pleaded. There were no gods she could petition, no miracles to beseech from her friends, no one to ask but the body of the woman she loved with what had become a desperate, all-consuming ache. Please, please, please... The mantra came out breathless and strained through her tears, the syllable quivering until it dissolved as she pressed her brow to the floor and wept.

She didn't know when Sapphire found her on the floor, nor how long her friend held her head in her lap and spoke comfort and nonsense; she cried until there was nothing left, and gasped dryly into the darkness until nothing was left.

"Hey. Hey," Sapphire said quietly, when she helped her out of the windowless room, putting distance between Eri's body and the grieving witch. "Do you wanna go up to your room...?" she started, but the witch shook her head.

"Not yet. I can't."

She laid on the living room couch and fought off sleep as long as she could. She thought she could hear her friend sitting out in the hall just out of sight, unwilling to leave her alone. When exhaustion finally claimed her senses, it was a mercy.

[Mallory]

June 7th, 2018 - the fourth day.

Mallory awoke to an empty house.

She'd overslept breakfast by several hours, though Sapphire had left a plate for her. She'd also left a note, that she was going out for a supply run to restock their pantry.

There was no one sleeping late in their bed, watching cartoons on the living room floor, or curled up in a library armchair to watch her girlfriend read through the morning with warm, loving interest. Today, Mallory only spilled as much blood as she needed to verify that Eri's spirit was twenty-one miles away, north-northwest, and unmoving.

Eri's body remained empty, also unmoving.

Mallory stood in the doorway of the windowless room, her gaze ticking over the delinquent's lifeless form as she ran through the circumstances in her head. Eighty-four hours, thirty of them at the exit. How long until the tales she had read in the small hours of the last three nights finally came true? When would Eri lose her sense of self? When would she lose Eri?

Have I already?

Hot tears blurred her vision as she took deep, shuddering breaths. The belladonna vines slithered off of the doorknob and onto her left wrist, joining the growing coil that gathered to a single point and pierced deep into her palm.

"Roka!" she screamed as she slapped a bloody hand against the doorframe. "Your blood was supposed to protect her, goddammit!" Her sobs turned to heaving, desperate rage, and she drew the curving symbol of a triskelion in the bloody handprint and slapped it again as she screamed louder: "Roka!"

In the following silent interval, Roka's arrival was indicated first not by sound but by light. The elder oni was abruptly crouching on top of a dresser in the hall, white brogued dress boots with pointy toes protruding over the edge. The source of the light was a lit candle he was holding upon arrival. The flame was reflected in the many sequins on the bright pink and purple shirt he was wearing and on the pearloid buttons. He hopped down, holding his candle aloft with one hand and straightening the plaid polyester trousers he wore with the other. In spite of the garish attire his expression was serious as he advanced on Mallory, standing in the doorway in front of his daughter's body, and asked: "Who has killed Eri?"

"A dead woman," the witch croaked at him, tears streaming down her face, though her expression held far more anger than sorrow in the moment. "Saori's seeing to that. Fix her," she demanded, pointing at Eri's lifeless body.

Roka's face, much like Eri's, was better suited to tranquil expressions, but as he got a look at his daughter's body, the sadness and anger was apparent, even in eyes that had seen far too many things already. He held up his candle and blew out the little flame, causing a palpable flicker in some potent contingent dimensional spell, now dismissed. He stepped forward and crouched next to the lifeless form, studying Eri's face for a time.

"It's been three and a half days," the witch managed to say after a little while, wiping the tears from her eyes with her right thumb. "And her spirit hasn't made any progress for more than a day. I think she found the way out, but..." Her voice quavered. Doubt took hold. "...she's strong enough to leave... right?"

The oni nodded as he stood again, and his head turned unerringly toward the north, then swung slightly west. "I have no doubt whatsoever. I found the nearest place just now. So would she. I can feel as well that... there is something wrong there. Something is holding the barrier. From this side."

Hope and confusion both welled up inside her, and she frowned at Roka as she stepped closer. "I should call Saori, let her know to come over, but..." She looked up at his face with a desperate, pleading expression. "Can you find out what's holding her back?"

He nodded, a reassuring smile replacing the stern expression as he reached out to pat the witch's shoulder. His voice was confident as he replied, "Of course. At once. I will go there and see what the problem is. No one has any business tampering around with these places, truly. So it's reasonable to undo whatever mischief is put in place that is interfering with Eri returning."

[Mallory]

Footing was perilous at the verge of the forest where Roka appeared, the slope of the ground steep and the terrain uneven in this mountain pass, just barely below the tree line. The elder oni's outlandish footwear was silent and sure as he materialized and settled like a feather in a spot overlooking the old and weathered stone walls around the isolated temple. For a moment, Roka was still, listening carefully. The clear air at this altitude brought sounds of chanting to his ears, a low and repetitive cadence. After listening to the repeating phrases enough to decipher the meaning and intent of them, he nodded to himself and began carefully picking his way down the hill towards the wall and its ornate but weathered torii.

That ornate arch gave him pause for a moment, his dark eyes glancing over the strings of ofuda at each side of the support beams. When a few seconds had ticked by he held out one arm, fingers outstretched with his hand palm down. There was a sound like wind in the leaves as the oni's shape blurred and vanished, only to appear a few yards beyond the gate. The moment his feet touched the ground another chant could be heard, closer now from the base of the steps where a solitary monk approached. The chant was a familiar sutra, but the oni only shook his head and called toward the steps in a soft tone, "That doesn't bother me anymore. Why not stop that, and come down to talk reasonably? We need to come to some agreement so that nothing unfortunate happens here..."

The only reply was a creaking sound from the walls, where several monks rose into sight from the shadows with bowstrings drawn. In the next moment the air was filled with the whistle of arrows in flight, a number of them striking Roka and embedding in his upper body. He blinked several times, his expression looking at once startled and disappointed. Then there was a quick flash of dazzling light that caused the monks on the wall to blink and shield their eyes. When they looked again there was only a wisp of smoke curling and quickly being carried away on the mountain wind where the oni had been standing.

* * * * *

When Roka returned to Riverwatch, Saori was already arriving, with Miyu and Riho en route. Mallory waited in the library as they filtered in, her shoulders squared against the back of an armchair, her arms folded tightly, her eyes smouldering with green flame as she silently worked over everything Roka had told her.

"Monks," Roka said in a tone that was more perplexed than angry, explaining again to a confused Saori. "Chanting the lotus sutra at me." He irritably picked at another of the arrows that was still protruding from his upper arm.

"So what do we do now?" Saori asked, looking frustrated as she paced back and forth in front of the desk.

"The monks didn't want to play nice with a mountain demon over his dead half-demon daughter?" Mallory's gaze flickered over to Roka.

He shook his head slowly as he looked back to the witch. "I don't think they will listen to reason. If they won't play nice, we may have to play rough." Again the elder oni looked faintly disappointed in the turn of events, yet also resigned to the possibility that he had just suggested, as he turned over a bloody, freshly plucked arrow in his hands.

"They've already made that choice." What Roka considered possible, the witch had decided was inevitable. She threw a hand out to the north, where she had watched the demon's head turn before when he spoke of the temple: "They think they have the right to keep her from returning, because--? No, you know what? I don't give a **** why. We used our words and they answered with steel," she added in a hiss as she snatched the arrow from Roka's hands. "Roka... Saori... Miyu... Riho... I want to send them a message. Leave or die. It's their choice."

Roka watched Mallory take the arrow and nodded his head silently. Saori, standing by the desk with her arms crossed, made a sound of approval. "I don't care what their reasons are either. It's their choice," she confirmed, glancing to Miyu and Riho, who both signalled their agreement.

The witch turned her gaze from the girls of the Kabuki Street Rengou-kai to the old mountain demon, lifting her chin as she studied him, wondering where he would stand.

Seeing the witch's gaze levelled at him, Roka responded pensively, "I can't let them interfere with Eri returning. It may require liquidating them. Are you prepared for that?" The witch nodded slowly, but the oni had lived many years and had seen many fail to take revenge before. "Are you certain?"

Mallory curled her hands into trembling fists as she stepped closer to Roka and the others, her tearful scowl a pure expression of grief-stricken rage. "I would do anything," she promised, "to return her to my side."

"Alright," Roka agreed. He looked to the others and clapped his hands together decisively. "Sooner begun is sooner done, then. We'll need to round up some of the delinquents, and get weapons... and masks."

"Ask Mai?" the witch turned to Saori, who nodded. "And I think we'll need a vehicle..." she added with a look at Roka, who thought for a moment before he silently agreed. "I'll find a map to the temple. Grab whoever or whatever else you think we'll need, and we'll meet in front of the Sunny Mart in an hour."

* * * * *

By the time Sapphire returned to the house, Mallory was gone, leaving behind a small contingent of security girls and a simple note: Getting Eri. Back soon.

((Written with Roka's player, with thanks!))

[Mallory]

Cold wind blew up the mountain from the city far below, every bit as bitter and chilling as the air that howled down from the peaks and dusted the slopes with snow for much of the year. The old forest around the temple rustled and rattled as every leaf turned up, as if a summer storm was fast approaching, though the scattered clouds that dimmed the evening sky were not heavy enough for rain or thunder.

Birds roosting since dusk scattered at the unexpected change, gliding down to the mountain's western slopes, far from the temple. Only one creature remained aloft as the sudden gale died down: a crimson moth, darting its way through the highest branches, fluttering down to the outstretched hand of a bald, golden-robed monk standing before the torii that marked the beginning of the temple grounds. He clutched an iron-capped staff in one hand, and four linen-tailed bo shuriken dangled from his bright blue sash.

The moth alighted on his fingertips, and he brought it up to his ear, struggling to listen to the creature with a curious frown, at first. As the message revealed itself the man's expression darkened, and he made a fist to crush what he assumed was an infernal messenger. He opened his hand, expecting the usual strange dust that moths left behind, and found blood staining his fingers instead. He held them up to signal to his comrades on the walls, and arrows quietly shiffed out of their quivers and were nocked to bowstrings. Then he called out into the forest,

"Leave us, demons! The way is shut! Die and remain dead as you should, and leave us in peace!"

Silence reigned following his words, more total than any the monks had heard outside of the dead of winter. Even the crickets were quiet, burrowing into earth and trees away from what approached. The monk peered into the deepening darkness, hands tightening around his staff as he held it up, waiting for the first whiff that would accompany his sharp-eyed archers finding their mark.

None came.

Two loud reports, almost simultaneous, shattered the silence and were met by two of the archers, falling from the ruined walls, one with a groan, the other silenced by a hole through his head. Two arrows sailed almost blindly towards faint signs of movement in the trees, but their attackers had the advantage of distance and accuracy; two more shots, and the remaining archers toppled from the temple roof. One staggered wounded towards the temple entrance as the monk at the gate cried out,

"Inside! Shelter inside, grab weapons, and prepare to--!"

A fast-moving black cloud struck him square in the back, curling its noxious tendrils around to his nose and mouth and streaming into him. His face grew ashen, his booming voice diminished to a rattling gasp, and he fell onto his side, convulsing violently as black liquid trailed out of the corner of his mouth.

Canisters that belched and sputtered thick smoke soared out of the trees to land within the temple grounds, roll across the open approach to the ruined walls and bounce off of them, covering the area in a roiling cloud of gray mist. The wounded monk had fallen, but looked back as one of the others came back to help him inside. He sensed movement and grabbed the other's sleeve to stop him, pointing into the mist with a shaky finger at the first face to emerge: "There!"

The gruesome, grotsequely exaggerated features of a kabuki mask depicting some demonic entity stared back at them, its wearer advancing on the temple grounds at a full sprint, accompanied by a dozen others, many of them illuminated by a hellish light that danced strangely in the mist. The other monk widened his eyes and cried out, "Demons! Thirteen demons! They have come for their sister!"

The temple's heavy wooden doors groaned and thudded shut. The way was locked and barred, and there was another small interval of uncertain silence. Then glass shattered and something whooshed, one, two, three times; one of the monks dared to peek out of a small window long enough to see the outbuildings in the temple burst into flames as these evil, masked figures hurled lanterns at anything they could burn. "They... they are burning it all down!" the spectator whispered loudly.

"Get bows, and get to the windows!" another hissed back.

They were still scrambling into position when the heavy doors exploded inward, streaming a burst of flame into the temple, showering the monks with sharp debris, and throwing back everyone nearby. They were still picking up their fallen weapons from the floor when the first masked figures strode inside, clutching bright steel implements not yet stained with their blood, though the masks' ghoulish grins seemed eager to start.

Two monks were struck while reaching for their weapons and another while desperately scrambling away, but many met the flash of steel with hardy battlestaffs and the fast reflexes they had carefully honed. But the skirmish in the entryway was over in seconds, soon joined by three crimson many-tailed foxes that darted between people's legs, clambering up the monks' backs and biting and clawing wherever they could find purchase. One fell to a blood-summoned creature's snapping jaws and the cudgel blows rained down by a figure whose tusked blue mask was a permanent scowl; another bludgeoned a fox into nothingness and spun around to regroup with his comrades, only to find a man in a garishly sequined shirt and polyester pants reaching out to him. His clawed fingers passed through his chest as if the barrier of flesh and bone were only an illusion, squeezing and piercing his internal organs.

"Protect the chanters! Protect the stone!" someone called out, only to be silenced by the last lunge of the conjured foxes, succumbing to the monk's attempts to bludgeon them off of his chest as they sank their teeth into his throat.

[Mallory]

Smoke and embers flowed into the inner sanctum of the mountain temple, the orange glow fading to muddy ash as it touched the spring that straddled the underworld, its bubbling waters stoppered by a massive white stone that blocked a cave of solid black rock. The blood of four monks had turned the water a deep red, beaten and broken by the savage attacks of two masked figures and one unmasked that stood in the semicircular chamber.

"The fire is spreading!" someone called from the doorway, another masked figure. There was the odd scream still, but mostly the dying groans of the defending monks, as the delinquents had done their best to leave none alive.

Mallory pulled her mask away from her face, calling back to the delinquent through her respirator: "Then get out! We're getting Eri!"

The delinquent quickly scattered, spreading the word to the others in the raid as the fire blew from the outbuildings to the temple's rooftop, and they retreated back to the ruined wall at the edge of the temple grounds. Roka, Saori, and Mallory remained, watching and waiting as the ground rumbled and stone slowly, steadily ground against stone.

The first sign they felt of Yomi-no-kuni was the sensation of shockingly cold water washing over them, with enough force to stagger all but Roka, though they and the air around them remained dry. A strange, dreary gloom settled in straight after, and Mallory found herself looking at the dappled gray light dancing out of the slowly opening crack between the white stone and the black cave without passion, only a feeling of drudgery and despair.

What does it matter? Everything dies. Life is dreary toil and death is empty sleep. Come in, eat by the hearth, and go about your life as you have always done.

The sad yet soothing voice was difficult to overcome, but Roka's clear and clearly annoyed voice broke through the spell when he snapped at it, "Quiet, hag." Whether frightened or startled by the oni's outburst, the voice fell silent and the gloom receded from Mallory, enough that she trusted herself to draw closer to the growing gap in the shifting stone and peer within.

Despite the dappled gray light emanating from within, the cave itself was impenetrably dark, beyond the ability of mortal eyes to pierce through it. A low, rumbling growl sounded from the darkness, and the inner sanctum began to fill with a lantern-like glow, rippling like heat waves with unchecked power.

The gap was wide enough now for other, lesser spirits, cackling serpentine shapes of black mist with white faces and poisonous water bristling with tempting wildflowers, ogre-like heads flapping away on bat wings and fox-like sprites skittering up the walls, all of them shooting up and out through the suddenly crumbling ceiling to cause chaos and misfortune wherever they went. But they paid little heed to the witch and the two oni who drew closer behind her, and she paid little heed to them, her attention on the familiar growl and glow of a very strong spirit fighting to push its way back out of the underworld.

The white stone lurched as it shifted and widened the gap, and the trickle of spirits became a veritable storm, spiraling out of a hole in the ceiling as a burning timber plummeted into the spring behind them. Wind howled out of the deep, dark cave, the strong, wild breath of a spirit of calamity that lashed across Mallory, tearing a cut across her leg and another across her chest as she drew closer. Heavy claw marks appeared on the stone and the rocky cave, the first of them high up and the marks that followed reaching higher, instinctively following the other spirits on their chaotic trajectory.

"No..." The witch frowned at the retreating presence of the formless half-oni that filled this space. Boots splashed in the bloody, ember-strewn water as she stepped forward until she stood directly beneath it. She tore her respirator away and called out at the top of her lungs, trying to be heard above the storm: "Eri!"

The formless essence paused briefly, roaring at the witch again but less certainly this time. As it advanced further into the land of the living, the winds that surrounded it suddenly subsided to a less bludgeoning wind, and then shifted incrementally to a breeze as it moved through.

"Eri Maeda, spirit of calamity, you know who I am!" the witch shouted in the face of her terrifying roar, her eyes brimming with joyful tears that fell freely. "I am the one who loves you, the one who shares your home, and the one who will marry you someday... because you are the most beautiful creature I will ever know! Come home!" she called out, stumbling in the water as the ground shook and timbers fell in the outer temple.

She picked herself up again, still laughing silently, tearfully, and reached out her hand to the terrible spirit that could sunder this room in an instant. "Come home," she repeated softly, her lips curved into a fond smile for the monster.

The chaotic form lingered for a moment, the gentle breeze surrounding it seeming to curl around the witch fondly. Then it rushed forward toward the ruined temple and home beyond, bowling Mallory over. Roka reached out a hand swiftly to catch the witch, and with a beckon from the old oni, Saori seized his other arm. He stretched out his hand, palm down, and they vanished as burning timbers collapsed into the room.

[Mallory]

In a whirlwind of motion the trio reappeared before the old stone house near Kabuki Street where Eri and Mallory lived. The witch was a little unsteady in her landing, stumbling two steps away from them but catching herself easily enough. She blinked at her surroundings, at the security delinquent stationed by the mudroom door who had gotten over her initial shock and was sheathing her sword again, and over her shoulder at Roka, who appeared to be ignoring her at the moment.

The oni was looking to Saori then, pulling at fabric of his shirt absently, fingering the bloody tears where the arrows had struck. "I could use a tea. Is there a place to get it around here at this hour?" he asked his daughter abruptly.

Saori nodded, and waved over her shoulder as she turned toward Kabuki Street. "See you later Mal," she called as they strolled down the road together away from the witch.

Between the fading adrenaline of the fight and the disorienting trip here, it took a few moments for Mallory to realize what Roka was up to. She ended up waving mutely after them, likely too late to be seen, and turned back to her house. "It's done," she murmured to the security girl by the door, mustering what she thought would be a reassuring smile as she passed her to go inside.

A few of Eri's favorite pairs of shoes were there by the furnace next to Mallory's high-tops and a cheap pair of flip-flops. Her bright blue rain slicker hung from a hook by the stairs. Little signs of her littered the house, as they always had, but between then and now they had taken on a new meaning to her. She traced the railing thoughtfully as slow steps took her up the stairs, through the creaking door that the delinquent liked to call "whiny," and down the hall.

Her left forearm was stained with much of her own blood, and some of the monks' was splashed across her torn clothing, which reeked of smoke. She could hear Sapphire descending the stairs and pausing there, but the witch called out to the windowless room before the half-fae could speak: "Eri?"

"Mal." Eri's voice was always quiet, but even more than usual as she tried to remain still. She could be clearly heard through the door, however, and the quiet call was followed by a few impatient shuffling sounds as the delinquent stirred.

The witch froze in place for a fraction of a second before she bolted down the hall, skidding around the corner and slamming into the door. Rather than whisper the password she made a violent gesture and the protective sigil locking the door burst, jostling the handle and swinging it open, leaving her standing in the doorway and staring at Eri.

Eri was still resting on the folded blanket that Mallory had put her on. Her face was a little paler than usual, but her return to her body seemed to have brought on a burst of regeneration that sealed the wounds and left her well stable. She was holding the note that Mallory had left in one hand, but dropped it when she saw the witch burst through the door. She held her arms out then, lips curving into her familiar smile.

Mallory wasn't sure where the tears came from, after four days of them, but a happy sob bubbled forth as she dropped to her knees to throw her arms around the delinquent and pull her to her chest. "You're here. You're here with me," she whispered, covering her inky-haired head in kisses. She splayed out her hands on her back and felt her shoulderblades move under her fingers, which drew another sob from her. "You're here."

When she was pulled close Eri's arms closed around Mallory's shoulders. The delinquent's body shook from a sob of her own, and she leveled her voice before saying: "I'm here. Sorry for worrying you. Those stupid monks..." she added in a diminished tone. "Thanks for taking care of them for me."

"Of course," she laughed happily, taking a deep, sniffling breath and sighing into her shoulder. She squeezed her again and only let go to look at her better, eyes bright as she brushed her hair back from her face to study it, smiling at her. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, Eri Maeda... spirit of calamity," she added with another soft laugh and a quickly rising blush, wondering how much the half-oni remembered of that encounter.

Eri's dark eyes looked back at the witch fondly when she drew back to take a better look at her. The warmth there was steady and she smiled wider when she heard what she said. "Nothing? I had missed you terribly. Let's not be apart again," she requested in a quiet semblance of her usual singsong.

"Okay," Mallory answered in a whisper, dipping her head, assenting to the request. She shifted her legs to sit around Eri, gently pulling her into her lap and enclosing her in her arms. Her head rested on top of the delinquent's, and she shut her eyes and let out a deep, deep sigh. "I think I can do that."