Horitake eyed the children gathered at the town's edge, suspicion stirring.
Mitsuri grew wary too.
It was nearly midnight. Even in bustling Kusatsu County, the streets had quieted, shops shuttered, and people retired for the night.
Yet here, a group of eerie children assembled at the town's entrance, looking utterly out of place.
They weren't demons—Mitsuri was certain of that.
Confused, Mitsuri glanced at Horitake, whose gaze darkened.
Finally, the last child arrived, completing the group.
One child, clearly displeased, barked at the latecomer, "What were you doing? Arriving so late—trying to get us all killed?!"
The tardy child shrank, stammering, "S-sorry! The paths were so complicated, I got lost."
Another child chimed in, "Enough, don't blame him. We're out of time. Let's go."
The others nodded, fearfully urging haste to avoid being late.
The scolding child, unable to argue, roared in frustration and stormed ahead.
The rest followed.
Horitake observed, noting two oddities:
First, their speech was slurred, words unclear.
Second, they were heading out of town.
Strange.
Why couldn't such young children speak clearly? All of them?
Why did they hide their faces with scarves? Concealing their appearance?
And why head into the mountains so late?
Where were they from?
If from Kusatsu, why carry large, empty baskets at this hour?
Questions swirled in Horitake's mind.
As the children neared the town's exit, Mitsuri whispered, "Horitake, what do we do? Follow them?"
Horitake decided swiftly, "No. The mountains are too dangerous and complex. We stop them here, where it's open and well-lit, and get answers. Let's move!"
"Got it!"
With a whoosh, Horitake and Mitsuri vanished from a nearby rooftop, reappearing before the children.
Their sudden appearance startled the group. Some froze, legs trembling at the sight of the swords at Horitake and Mitsuri's waists.
A few, panicked and defiant, shouted, "Who are you?! Why block our way?!"
Horitake regarded them coolly. "Sneaky kids, sneaking out with baskets to the mountains at night? That's suspicious and dangerous. As a concerned passerby, I'm stopping you."
The most hotheaded child—the one who'd scolded earlier—glared venomously. "Mind your own business! 'Concerned passerby'? You're the suspicious ones, jumping out like that! Get out of our way!"
This brat was infuriating. Horitake wanted to knock some sense into him but held back.
"I suggest you avoid the mountains at night," Horitake said, voice steady. "They're dangerous—wild beasts, and… man-eating demons."
The children's faces paled, some trembling, others ready to bolt.
Their reaction told Horitake and Mitsuri everything: they knew of man-eating demons, perhaps had even seen them.
This was no simple matter.
The hotheaded child, sweating, snapped, "N-nonsense! Man-eating demons? Never heard of them! We have important business in the mountains. Stop interfering, or I'll scream that you're child abductors and get the adults to beat you!"
That was it—Horitake's patience snapped.
No more playing nice.
He drew his sheathed blade, Ikou, and with a swift motion of Tempest Swordplay, unleashed a gust of wind.
It wasn't to harm them—Horitake wasn't that cruel. The wind tore the scarves from their faces, revealing them.
Mitsuri gasped, hand over mouth, stunned.
Even Horitake's eyes widened. What… is this?
The children's faces were horrifyingly disfigured.
Not congenital deformities—these were inflicted.
Each child's face was sliced from the corners of their mouths to their ears, stretched wide like a serpent's maw.
With their scarves gone, panic erupted. Some screamed hysterically, crouching and covering their faces. Others chased their scarves desperately. Some wept, clutching their faces. One glared at Horitake, eyes burning with hatred.
Fear and chaos consumed them, like ghosts exposed to sunlight.
Horitake's mind raced.
His first thought: the Joker from Batman, with a similar gruesome grin.
But that didn't fit. Then he thought of another.
The Serpent Hashira, Iguro Obanai.
Obanai hid his face with bandages for the same reason—his face bore the same serpent-slit scars as these children.
What was going on? How were these children connected to Obanai? What had they endured? Why were they heading out at night?
Questions flooded Horitake's mind, unanswered.
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