Yokai: Winds of the Yakuri

Sato looked at the endless snow around them as he shuffled after the Ko’nu leading them through the dead forest. Ice-covered branches white as bone stuck out all around him. There were no prints in the snow before them; where exactly were the Ko’nu taking them? 

“Say, Mitikori, was it?” He spoke to the tall Tokiwa-Ronshin keeping pace beside him. 

“Yes?” 

“What exactly was that draft? I haven’t felt that kind of warmth in my bones since summer.” Mitikori smirked after realizing the nature of his question. 

“Sweet potato sake, a traditional recipe from my hometown.” 

“You don’t have anymore do you?” Sato shivered despite the daylight. Mitikori looked out before them before answering.

“That was the last I had.” 

“A shame,” Sato muttered. Then through the snow he spotted something not bleached white. A Ko’nu longhouse. Sato had seen them before but had never been inside one. The structure was made with summer straw layered over logs and branches. Sato had been told they were constructed with angled beams to help resist the heavy snowfall. They entered through a rough wooden door into a small room. It was nearly pitch black, but Sato could feel warmth coming from somewhere deeper inside. The hunters shuffled and then the door into the main area opened. Inside was an old Ko’nu sitting before a great fire pit. It was nearly eight shaku long. Big enough to burn whole trees in. Hanging over it was a long spit with meat and fish hanging off on low hooks. The fire was low, just embers but it was warm enough. Sato slid off his snowshoes and stepped onto the dirt floor. The ground was covered with fine dust like sand at the southern shores. Konomi stepped across to sit on the left side of the pit, her dark eyes always searching the shadowy areas of the roof. Mitikori at least seemed relaxed. The Tokiwa-Ronshin slid his heavy pack off and sat cross-legged at the firepit. The Ko’nu hunters spoke in level voices to each other but Sato could only catch parts of it. He just looked at the empty hooks hanging above the pit and thought about his little girl back at his home. 

The elder spoke after everyone was seated. 

“You: hunters. From the south?” Konomi nodded. “You hunt man-eaters?” Konomi and Mitikori looked at each other for a perplexed second. 

“We can,” Mitikori spoke. 

“We hunt the blizzard,” Konomi stated again. The elder shook his head. 

“Blizzard. Snow. Snow falling forever. You hunt man eater. We show you summer’s flame. Then you think about snow.” Konomi sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Where are these man eaters.” 

Somehow, Konomi and Mitikori Kotoba were back out in the snow again. Hawk-mask showed them to a small hut at the edge of the settlement. It was sealed with rope and hanging omens that chimed weakly in the wind. Hawk-mask cut through the ropes with a long fisher’s knife and pulled the door open. Inside stank of death. Two bodies with blood on their faces. Konomi noted the same blood on their nails. Perpetrators, not victims. 

“These men tried to eat their cousin when the snow kept falling. The chief thinks others will follow suit.”

“Then we should stop the snow,” Konomi offered. “Find this summer’s flame and kill the Yuki-onna.” 

“Maybe you’ll find out about Yakuri’s bride from these killings. The spirits of the forest have been stirring ever since the snow started.”

Tsu peeked over Kotoba’ shoulder to peer into the house. When she saw the bodies, she quickly recoiled and began to stare blankly at the snow with a haunted gaze. 

“She doesn’t seem to be bothered,” Konomi countered.

“Perhaps but she shouldn’t be here. She should grow tall and wide with her sisters in the winter, not running wild in the summer.” Hawk-mask’s unmistakable southern accent had begun to bother Konomi. 

“You aren’t from here, are you?” Konomi asked. 

“That’s a secret for another time. The elder wants you to stop the last killer before he strikes again.”

“There was a third?” Kotoba spoke up. 

“Kakula, the youngest. These are his brothers and we were unable to find him. The tribe burned their dwelling to cleanse the spirits; I suggest you start there.” 

The two Ronshin returned to the longhouse. Their shoulders were covered in snow, but Sato noted the Tsu never entered with them. There was only one window in the longhouse. A passage at the very end of the hall directly behind the elder. Sato stood up and began to walk towards the opening to see if he could find Tsu. As he neared, the elder smacked a long stick against the rock grill. 

“It is not for you.” Sato looked at him confused but sat down regardless. Mitikori was collecting his pack and Konomi took her Kami-yari. They were moving again. 

“It was built as an entrance for the Kamuy. Pretty sacred,” Mitikori commented. Sato joined them at the door. 

“How do you know that?” He asked as they walked out. Mitikori sighed. 

“It’s a long story. I courted a scholar from Amagawa’s council. She had a keen interest in Kami from the north and south.” 

“Amagawa’s council!” Sato looked at the Ronshin in shock. “Whatever happened to her?” 

“That’s a short story; she loved books and the seclusion of her library. And I hated the emperor.” 

“That is tricky,” Sato scoffed. Konomi remained silent as she marched off into the snow. The stoic straw hat seemed even more quiet than usual since meeting Mitikori. She just held onto the dagger at her side and marched on. Tsu, on the other hand, seemed quite happy to have more company. Sato just hoped she wouldn’t turn out to be any more trouble. 

The group reached the charred remains of a small longhouse. The snow dipped down where the fire pit had been but no more beams remained. Konomi brushed flakes off the doorframe. It would be impossible to find anything under all the snow. As the flakes continued to fall, the Tokiwa-Ronshin wandered around the perimeter of the ruin. The pilot was just waiting at the treeline. He seemed to be getting along well with the Ronshin. The yokai was also quiet. She had stopped at the spot in the glade and began to dig through the snow. Konomi walked out from the burnt-out ruins towards the yokai. She was moving the snow about looking for something. Konomi walked over and spotted dark dirt under her. She shoved the yokai aside and looked down at the frozen earth. Overturned sod. A demolished garden with nothing but stems to show for it. All the plants were just gnawed roots. But one of them would help. Konomi grabbed the white no-biru bulbs. 

“The smell of these would stick even after snow fell.” She took the stems and began to follow the faint scent of fresh garlic. 

It led back into the forest, heading down towards the setting sun. As they walked along, Konomi began to notice markings across the trees. Angular, like the Ko’nu’s clothing. They were carved into the bark and patterned on small stick-and-twine omens. However, there was something else: bite marks. On the small green buds. On the leaves. The work of a yokai or just a starved man, Konomi couldn’t say. Tsu was trailing close to the Tokiwa-Ronshin. Her eyes peering into the darkness. Whatever they hunted wasn’t familiar to her. Something else was moving in the trees, though. Not the restless crows. Or the dangling offerings. But something long forgotten. 

The scent got weaker and weaker until they finally reached a wide plain in the circle of trees. The sloping line of trees at the edge gave evidence to the plain being a frozen lake, but the small hut at the center said otherwise. Konomi stepped out through the snow to the dwelling. It wasn’t built like the Ko’nu it was hastily created. Just animal hide draped over sticks. Some of it still raw.