Morning came pale and cold.
Mist crawled low across the stones as Muichiro and I made our way to the old pavilion.
He walked ahead, quiet as always, sword at his side. "Stay close," he said.
"I always do."
"Not always enough."
The air smelled strange here—like smoke that didn't belong to fire. The closer we got, the heavier it felt.
The pavilion stood at the far end of the courtyard, its roof sagging under wisteria vines. Wind bells hung from the eaves, still as if they were holding their breath.
"This place…" I whispered. "It feels wrong."
"It remembers," Muichiro said.
We stepped inside. Dust coated the floor. The wooden beam above the door had marks carved into it—lines, short and tall.
"Those are the names," he said. "Every bride who came before you."
I counted them quietly. Too many.
Muichiro watched me but said nothing. His hand rested on his sword. "The Archivist's letter was right. There's something under this building."
Before I could speak, a voice called from outside.
"Well, look who woke up early."
Sanemi stood by the door, smirking. His storm-gray eyes glinted in the dim light. "You two sneaking off for a secret lesson?"
Muichiro's tone didn't change. "You're not needed here."
Sanemi ignored him and stepped closer to me. "She looks like she can handle another round."
"Not today," Muichiro said.
Sanemi's grin widened. "She can speak for herself, can't she?"
I crossed my arms. "What do you want, Sanemi?"
"Just checking on my student." His voice dropped lower. "You hit harder when you're mad. I like that."
Muichiro stepped between us, blocking Sanemi's view. "Back off."
Sanemi raised his hands. "Relax, Mist. You act like I'm gonna steal your girl."
"You couldn't," Muichiro said calmly.
Sanemi's smirk faltered for half a second before he laughed. "Guess we'll see."
Before either could say more, the wind shifted. One of the bells above the pavilion rang.
Then another.
Twice.
The same sound from before.
Muichiro's expression hardened. "Get inside."
I moved toward him, but the ground trembled. Thin black lines began to spread across the floorboards, pulsing like veins. From the shadows under the beam, something moved—slow, crawling, whispering.
Muichiro drew his sword in one smooth motion. "Stay behind me."
Sanemi's grin disappeared. "Tch. You always get the fun ones."
He drew his blade too. "Guess we're doing this together."
The thing rose—a shape like smoke with hands that weren't hands. It hissed my name.
"Don't answer," Muichiro said sharply.
I clutched the charm in my sleeve and nodded.
The shadow lunged, and both Hashira moved at once—Muichiro's strikes silent and clean, Sanemi's loud and wild. Sword and sound crashed through the mist.
They fought side by side, complete opposites but deadly in rhythm. Muichiro cut through the air like it was already split; Sanemi tore through it like he wanted to make it scream.
When it was over, the shadow dissolved into dust.
Silence followed, broken only by the faint ring of a wind bell swinging on its own.
Sanemi wiped his blade and glanced at me. "Not bad for your first real scare."
Muichiro sheathed his sword. "She's had worse."
"From me?" Sanemi grinned.
"Exactly."
Their eyes met for a long moment—calm against chaos. Then Sanemi snorted, amused. "Fine, Mist. You win this round."
He turned to leave but paused at the doorway. "She's tougher than she looks. Don't wrap her in fog too tight."
"I'll decide that," Muichiro said.
Sanemi chuckled and disappeared into the mist.
The pavilion was quiet again. I looked down at the floor. Where the shadow had been, one of the carvings glowed faintly.
Muichiro knelt beside it. "Another mark," he murmured. "The Archivist was right."
"What does it mean?"
He touched the line with his fingertips. "It means this isn't over."
When he stood, the bell above us rang once more—soft and careful, as if it wanted us to listen this time.
He looked at me. "Come on. We're leaving."
"Muichiro?"
"Yes."
"Are you angry?"
He glanced toward the door where Sanemi had gone. "No," he said. "Just focused."
But the edge in his voice said otherwise.
We stepped out into the mist, and the bell behind us rang again.
Twice.