There was a drone of incantation that reverberated around her. Within seconds she was pulled out from the fiery depths.
Her eyes snapped open and she screamed. Orange flames lapped at her arm and then just as suddenly it died down but not before leaving a peculiar burn scar that started from her hand and then forked all down her left elbow.
"Oh, dear...you were in hell," she heard someone say, the same male voice that had warned her right before she had slipped off the cliff.
"Wait. I'll be right back."
Before her eyes could adjust to the darkness and she could make out the form of her ally, he was gone.
She heard a metallic clunk that sounded like a lid not fitted properly on a cooking pot.
Kana blinked and tried to gather her thoughts. She touched her knee and felt it was intact. The memories of what she had witnessed just moments ago engulfed her and made her panic. Surely, it must all be a dream.
She heard the rustling of leaves and stiffened. She wasn't alone anymore. The air had turned considerably cooler.
Po...Po....Po...
Kana held her breath. She hadn't heard that voice since she was nine years old and gone to visit her grandparents. She had heard that voice then and when she had told her grandparents, they had been scared and locked her in a room with bowls of salt in every corner.
Kana shivered. No, it couldn’t be. She had survived the Hachishakusama. She had resisted her and gone back home after promising to never return to her grandparent's home.
Po...Po...Po...
Kana felt faint when she felt the touch on her shoulder. Her muscles cramped up and her hands trembled.
She heard a clunking sound again. She squinted and saw a stout little figure approach her. Then she heard an audible gasp and a solemn prayer.
The hand on her shoulder lifted but Kana couldn’t bring herself to ease up.
The man before her came near and she let out a horrified gasp.
The figure before her had a pot lid on his head, the face of an old man with a long mustache, and a body that resembled a rice cooker. Two thin arms poked out from the side. She could just about make two spindly legs jutting out of the bottom of the pot.
"What are you?" She cried out and pushed herself back with her hands.
"Let's make the introductions later. First, take this bandage and wrap it around your hand."
When Kana didn't move, he sighed. With surprising strength, he yanked her hand and began to wrap the bandage around her burn scar. "You've been to hell. You must keep the mark hidden. You've become a target for the yokai."
"I don't believe in evil demons!" She spoke vehemently.
The old man peered into her eyes. Now that the sun was coming up, she could see how grave his eyes were.
"I think you do. You've met her before, haven't you?"
Kana yanked her hand back after it was bandaged properly. "Are you a demon? Is that why you have all this knowledge?"
The old man shook his head. "I'll explain everything in time. But first tell me what you did that condemned you to hell?"
****
Hiroto ditched his blood-stained haori in the bushes and tottered towards the Izakaya.
He entered and managed to sit properly enough so he could order. "Two glasses of Shochu. Quickly."
His request was fulfilled and he downed the glasses immediately.
"Easy," The man beside him said.
Hiroto grunted and scowled at him.
"What's the matter my friend? You seem to have a lot on your mind."
Hiroto grunted again. His head was pounding and he had no interest in making small talk with strangers. He just wanted to finish his drink and go home and forget he ever had a daughter called Kana.
Across the table, he saw two young men watching him and laughing. "What are you men looking at?" He asked, enraged.
The man beside him lay a hand on his shoulder. "Let them be. They have been gossiping about you ever since you entered the Izakaya.
"What have they been saying about me?"
The man hesitated and then told him something Hiroto had only heard in whispers until now. The stranger told him how the young men claimed to have spend the afternoon with his wife and how she had been the one to seduce them. Hiroto's rage boiled in his veins. He had suspected his wife, Azumi, of having an affair behind his back and conceiving Kana. Azumi was beautiful and charming and when she had married Hiroto, a lot of people had made fun of their match.
When Kana was born, Hiroto had suspected she was not his daughter. She looked nothing like him. Besides, she had arrived in seven months.
Hiroto got up.
"Calm down," the stranger told him. "Anger doesn't do anyone any good."
Hiroto ignored him. He stomped out and headed towards his house. It seemed that his dagger was to see more blood tonight.
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