The skeletal giant loomed above them, its bleached skull blotting out the sunlight. A twenty-foot-tall Gashadokuro, its hollow sockets glowing faintly, stood between them and the torii gate.
Kibo sprinted back to Sachiko and Hiroshi, panting. The creature swung its bony hand down, aiming to crush him. Kibo leapt forward, the monstrous fingers grazing the edge of his coat. Dirt exploded around him as the strike landed with deafening force.
"Into the forest!" Sachiko yelled.
They ran, crashing through underbrush. Oddly, the Gashadokuro didn't chase.
Kibo crouched behind a tree, eyes fixed on the giant. "It's not hunting us," he muttered. "It's just… standing there. Blocking the path."
Sachiko narrowed her eyes. "Can we go around?"
"There's a cliff beside it. If we try sneaking past, we might fall. And we don't know if another bridge exists. We're wasting time—and there could be more of those things."
While they spoke, Hiroshi was tying something to his arrow.
"What are you doing now?" Sachiko asked, wary.
"A trap," he replied, focused. "It's standing near a cliff. If I shoot an arrow with rope around its leg, we can tie it to a tree and pull it down."
Kibo's eyes widened. "That could work."
Sachiko scoffed. "You idiots. That thing could crush us in an instant."
"That's why we need a distraction," Kibo said. "While Hiroshi and I work the rope, someone has to draw its attention."
Sachiko's expression turned cold. "No. I'm not fighting that thing."
"We're not asking you to fight," Hiroshi said calmly. "Just lure it away. You're the fastest. It's the only way."
She looked at the two boys, frustration burning in her chest… but she knew they were right.
"…Fine," she said.
The plan began.
Sachiko ran from the trees. "HEY, BONEHEAD!" she shouted, waving her arms.
The Gashadokuro's head turned. Its hand came crashing down—Sachiko rolled and sprang onto its wrist, climbing swiftly up the arm.
Hiroshi fired his arrow. The rope lashed around the creature's leg. "Kibo—tie it!" he shouted.
Kibo moved fast, securing the rope as Hiroshi looped it around a thick tree. But just as they tightened it, Sachiko reached the creature's skull and plunged her Naginata deep into its cranium.
Then something changed.
The Gashadokuro's eyes lit with a haunting purple glow.
Sachiko froze.
Her body stiffened. Her fingers slipped from the blade. She stood motionless atop the monster's head—lost in a trance.
She fell.
Landing hard, she didn't move—trapped in a trance, lips trembling as if locked in silent memory.
The Gashadokuro reached up and ripped the Naginata from its skull. Its gaze shifted toward Kibo and Hiroshi.
With a violent jerk, it lifted its leg. The rope snapped instantly.
But Kibo's foot was still tangled.
"Wait—!" he shouted, too late.
The giant creature swung its leg, and Kibo was flung like a ragdoll, crashing into trees, slammed against the dirt, dragged by the thrashing rope. He clawed at the knot around his ankle, blood trickling down his temple.
Hiroshi ran forward, shouting to keep the yokai's attention on himself. "Hey! Over here, you monster!"
But the creature kept shifting toward the fallen Sachiko, who remained motionless, eyes glassy.
✦ FLASHBACK ✦
A young girl, no older than seven, crouched inside a dirt hole. Her knees were scraped, her face bruised. Outside, children laughed and called her name—but not kindly. She waited, silent, until they left.
When they were gone, she crawled out, alone and trembling.
She limped into the forest, deeper and deeper, until a voice called out.
"Come here" a soft voice said.
A man in his fifties stood before her—a monk with kind eyes and a weathered face.
"I brought some food," he said. "Let me clean those wounds."
Inside an abandoned shrine, the girl sat quietly as he tended to her injuries.
"They chased me again," she muttered. "They always do. I don't have parents. No one wants me in that village. I'm an outcast no one to care for me."
The monk looked at her gently. "Then what am I doing now?"
She clenched her fists. "You're the only one who cares. But I can't even say that out loud. If they find out you help me, they'll kill you."
She turned to him with tears in her eyes. "Why do you care? Why risk your life for me? Even my own family left me to die."
The monk smiled calmly. "You always speak from anger and pain. But I see more in you than that. I could've walked away when I found you starving. But letting a child of the gods die… is a sin I'd never forgive."
He rested a hand on her shoulder. "You are my daughter now. If Buddha casts me to hell for it, I'll go gladly."
She sobbed quietly, and he held her.
"I was a sōhei once," he said. "A warrior monk. Before Nobunaga disbanded us. I can teach you. But you must promise to never act from rage. Use what I teach you only to defend yourself."
She nodded. "I promise."
Time passed.
Sachiko grew into a striking young woman. Her skills sharpened. But the world didn't forget what she was.
One day, while buying food in the village, a bratty samurai's son cornered her. "You could be one of my wives," he said smugly. "Live in a samurai house. I'm offering you honor."
Sachiko clenched her fists—but remembered the monk's words.
She forced herself to smile and said, "No my lord you can find some other women."
The boy's expression turned to rage. He slapped her. "Ungrateful wretch! You reject what most women would die for?"
As he raised his hand again, she caught his wrist.
"Leave," she said coldly, "before you lose your status."
She pushed him back. He stumbled, furious.
"I'll return," he snarled. "You'll regret this."
Later, the monk arrived at the shrine. "Your face… what happened?"
"I was proposed to," Sachiko said flatly. "I rejected him."
"Why didn't you defend yourself?"
"He's the samurai's son. Causing trouble with him could get us killed."
"Why did you reject him?" the monk asked again.
"Because I'm not some breeding mare," she hissed.
The monk looked at her long and hard. Then he walked to a wooden chest and pulled out a long blade—her Naginata.
"One of your family members gave me this when they left you. They said… 'Keep this safe. One day, she'll come home.'"
"I thought I was abandoned," she whispered.
"You were not. I was raising you until they come back. Now the time has come," he said. "Defend yourself. But never lose yourself to anger."
The next day, she returned to the village. The bratty boy was lounging with six other men.
Sachiko stood tall, Naginata resting on her shoulder.
"I reject your offer again," she said. "Leave me alone."
The goons charged her.
She cut them all down effortlessly—not killing, only disarming. They fled.
The boy trembled. "I—I'm sorry!"
He ran.
For the first time in her life, Sachiko felt no fear. No rage. Just clarity.
As she walked through the fields at sunset, a group of girls ran toward her, calling her name. Somewhere in the distance, a voice called—
"SACHIKO!"
She snapped back to the present. Hiroshi was yelling.
The Gashadokuro turned toward him—Kibo was being flung like a ragdoll, tangled in broken rope.
"Strike it!" Kibo shouted, hurling the crimson sword to her.
Sachiko caught it, eyes burning. She ran forward, scaled the Gashadokuro's back—and with one cry, drove the blade deep into its skull.
The creature shrieked. Black smoke burst from its eyes. Its massive body turned to ash and crumbled into dust.
Sachiko hit the ground hard.
Hiroshi rushed to Kibo. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Kibo muttered. "Check on her."
Sachiko sat on the ground, still as stone. Hiroshi crouched beside her.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said softly.
Kibo walked over, bruised and bleeding, and returned her Naginata.
"You saved us," he said. "Again."
The three of them sat, exhausted, unable to stand.
Then they heard it—
A soft crack from the bridge.
They looked up.
Across the bridge, near the torii gate, stood a mysterious woman. Her face was hidden beneath a veil of flowers. Silent. Still.
Watching.