Chapter Text
The men strike with the speed of their namesakes, rotund bodies cutting with illogical speed through the water, eyes almost aglow through the thick haze of steam. Momo readies for them, back pressed against the rocks for stability. Her hands raise, and she reaches for that familiar well of power…
…Only to feel it suddenly slip from her grasp.
‘What…?’
There’s barely enough time for the thought to cross her mind before fat hands wrap around her slenderer wrists. The man smiles cruelly down at her, and Momo’s eyes widen in shock before she finds herself plunged into the water.
Bubbles leave her mouth in a great wave before she quickly clamps down on whatever breath she has left.
‘What’s going on…? Wh-why can’t I use my powers?!’
Some kind of haze looms thick over Momo’s mind, the usual flow of chi through her body muted and sluggish. It’s the damn heat, she realizes. Who knew spending too long in the sauna would be enough to sever connection to her powers?
The girl struggles and flails in the man’s hold, mortal body tugging uselessly at the restraints. Above the surface, the men watch on with lazy expressions.
“Don’t drown this one, yeah, Mondo?” One chides.
“That was one time, Taki,” Mondo bites back with a roll of his eyes as he keeps Momo under water. “I know what I’m doing, just enough to knock her out…”
They watch the continued bubbles idly, until one pudgy man with thinning hair and glasses spots something in the foam.
“Eh?”
He reaches in, hand cupping around skin, before pulling one of the girl’s legs out of the water. He looks, blinks, then screams, scrambling back in a flurry of water and pinwheeling arms.
“Gah! The hell is wrong with you, Oda?!”
“Disgusting!” Oda screams. “She’s deformed!”
The others follow Oda’s pointing to where Momo’s body still struggles under the water. Taki leans forward to get a better look.
“He’s right, she’s missing her legs!”
“Ah, look!” One points to a pair of mechanical legs sitting quietly on the rim of the pool.
“A cripple? Damn, what a waste,” One comments.
“And she’s so pretty, too,” Taki says with a shake of his head.
“Do we still wanna go through with it?” Mondo asks.
Taki thinks for a moment, finger tapping his chin. “Nah, that sort of thing really kills the mood.” He nods his head at Mondo. “You can drown her.”
Mondo smiles, wide and wicked, before pressing down harder on the struggling body beneath him.
Under the water, Momo attempts to hold in her panic. Her lungs are starting to burn, breath running thin in her body. Her limbs are heavy and sluggish in the water, and alone she doesn’t have the strength to overcome this grown man.
If she’s getting out of this alive, there’s only one option.
She has to calm herself, settle into that flow state that always put her in touch with her abilities. Her struggling slows to a stop, Momo lets herself sink against the bottom of the pool, clearing her mind until even her awareness of the hands on her wrists and knees digging into her sternum disappear.
Strangely, in this moment, she remembers her grandmother.
“Imagine your chi, building in your belly, then shooting out the top of your head, like a great fountain!”
Her core clenches.
She finds the well.
She funnels it up, and…
‘Get… OFF!’
The words explode out alongside a psychic blast.
The water of the spring shoots up in a great wall, sending Mondo flying away and over the fence guarding the perimeter.
“AAAAAAAaaaaaugh!” The man screams, cries fading out in a cartoonish manner as he disappears from sight.
The other men watch gobsmaked, mouths agape.
“Did he… hit something…?” One asks dumbly, before something large and heavy crashes into the side of his head.
The gators turn in shock to see Momo, popped back out of the water, a chunk of the decorative serpent fountain at the edge of the pool recently flung at the other attacker.
‘You want more, shit face? Cause I got plenty!’ She taunts.
“Eh? She’s up?”
“How the hell did she do that?!”
“Stupid girl!”
The gators clump together, another attempt to surround Momo, but Momo is undaunted, squaring up with glowing hands raised. She’s still woozy from the heat, and now from worn out lungs, but she’s got more than enough to teach these guys a lesson.
Then the earth gurgles.
Momo blinks, looking down.
‘What was that?!’ She asks herself.
The men seem not to have noticed, continuing their slow advance.
“Put the arms down, girly, we won’t hurt you again,” one teases in a honey-sweet voice.
The rumble comes again, firm and building, as though it were moving to some point behind her.
Instinct tells Momo to duck, and just at that moment, a torrent of hot water comes bursting from the broken spring. Water floods out in a great wave, sweeping the other gators out of the pool and away from her.
“GUWAAAAAH!” They scream; bodies rag dolling across the mountainside.
Momo pops out of the water with a silent gasp.
‘Yeesh, that’s hot!’
She quickly hoists herself over the edge, grabbing her prosthetics with spectral hands. Rolling over, the girl struggles to clip the legs on as fast as she can. Nervous hands fumble with the clasps.
‘Augh, damn things! Starting to think they’re more trouble than they’re worth!’
Something grabs her arm. Momo grits her teeth in pain, the fingers like a vice grip on her bicep. A look cast over her shoulder reveals one of the men, gray skin wrinkled and sagging, grinning manically up at her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks.
Fear runs sickly claws up Momo’s spine. She tries to reach for her powers again, but whatever hold on them she managed to find has slipped away now that her concentration is broken. The man’s other hand comes up to hold her down, before his weight suddenly disappears from her body.
Momo blinks, watching as the man goes spinning across the bathhouse and into another spring.
“A gentleman should refrain from touching women without permission!”
Momo looks up at the familiar voice.
‘Aira!’ She cries with genuine relief.
The girl stands in a ready pose, one leg raised to strike again. Her yokai skull mask covers one half of her face, long fuchsia hair arched high like a cobra. Her visible yellow eye flicks down to Momo.
“Are you well, Mistress Ayase?”
‘Y-Yeah, I’m okay…’
“Then let us be off!”
Before Momo can react, Aira hoists her in a cocoon of hair, snatching her prosthetics up too, at Momo’s frantic gesturing, and the pair bolt off towards the exit. The doorway into the bathhouse proper looms like a gaping mouth, before it’s suddenly blocked by three massive silhouettes.
Momo recognizes the lead, Mondo. Dark blood drips from a gash on his forehead, and his flabby body heaves with the effort of running back.
“Ya damn brats!” He hisses. “Do you know who we are?!”
Aira skids to a stop, hair raised to fight, before a groaning sound fills the air again. One of the men turns to look anxiously over their shoulder. Suddenly, he grabs Mondo by the hand and pulls him aside.
“Holy shit, run!”
The girls look up to see the entire façade of the building, slowly tipping towards them. The gators run and scatter, desperately seeking safety from the destruction looming above. Aira, by contrast, runs forward.
‘Woooooah!’ Momo screams.
The pink haired girl dashes into a skid, like a batter running for home, landing them safely in the opening of a window frame as the boards finally come down. The sound of splintering wood is like a lightning crack. Momo shuts her eyes against the wind, dust, and splinters. Aira’s hair folds around them both, acting as a shield until the chaos settles.
When all is still again, the other girl lets out a gasp of relief, hair shrinking as she collapses back into human form. Momo opens her eyes with a few rapid blinks and takes in an amazing sight.
The water spraying from the new fountain arcs a rainbow through clear skies. The impact of the building falling seems to have taken the rest of the fence with it, opening the hot spring to a wide view of a clear mountain side.
‘Woah, what a view!’
“That’s what you’re focused on?!” Aira admonishes the other girl.
‘What, we’re fine, aren’t we?’ Momo asks.
Aira just stares at her a moment before shaking her head. The girl crawls closer to Momo and begins lifting her arms, twisting the other girl’s body around.
‘H-Hey, what are you doing?!’ Momo protests.
“Are you hurt? Where did they touch you?”
‘Touch me? Ah… they grabbed my wrists a few times, I think…’
“Nothing else?” The way the girl looks at Momo is dead serious.
‘N-No…’ She tells her.
Aira seems to deflate at that.
“God, Takakura would kill me…” She mutters.
‘What’s with the freak out?’ Momo asks. ‘We’ve been attacked by weirdos before…’
Aira blinks at her again. “You are… somehow way too naïve…”
‘Hey!’ Momo protests.
“Ugh, you are seriously lucky nothing else happened!” Aira shouts back.
“Yep. Suuuuper lucky…”
A low, drawling voice breaks the girls from their moment.
“Nothin’ but lucky…”
‘Wait, is that…?’ Momo says in recognition.
The girls look over to see a familiar white and brown cat, floating idly in a remaining hot spring pool.
‘Turbo Granny?!’ Momo asks in shock.
“How did you get here?!” Aira shouts.
The yokai lazily opens an eye. “Heard you shoutin’ about goin’ to a hot spring. It’s half the reason I agreed to tag along, so I snuck in your bag before you left.”
‘You could have just asked to come with…’ Momo says, mental voice deadpan.
“Good thing I didn’t. Might not have been able to help if they’d seen me.”
“Help?! What did you do to help?!” Aira asks, sounding indignant.
“Uh, hello?” The cat gestures to the scene around them. “All this crap happened cause of my luck.”
‘Your luck? I thought you were a speed Yokai.’
“Eh, I’ve been in this body long enough it’s starting to take on some characteristics of the thing it represents.”
Aira quirks an eyebrow, not pleased at the lack of straight forward explanation. Momo thinks for a moment before her eyes light up.
‘Oh! You’re a real-life lucky cat!’ She shouts.
“Yyyyep! So you better start showing me some respect around here if you want any a’ this to rub off on ya,” Turbo Granny says with a smug grin.
A pair of teal hands pluck the doll from the water, startling her out of a zen state.
“Augh! Hey! The hell you think you’re doing, brat!?”
‘C’mon, bath time’s over, we got places to be!’ Momo plops the yokai unceremoniously into her pack as Aira helps belt the prosthetics in place. The pink haired girl helps the psychic to her feet. She gives Aira a thumbs up. ‘Let’s blow this popsicle stand!’
“Hey you, stop!”
“Crap, it’s the cops! Book it, boys!”
Aira and Momo watch with justified glee as the remaining gators bolt half naked down the street, a pack of uniformed officers just a few paces behind.
“Rot in jail, you perverted creeps!”
‘Yeah!’ Momo jeers, before suddenly turning to her companion. ‘Wait, what’s ‘perverted’ mean?’
Aira flinches. “I-I’ll tell you when you’re older!”
‘Hah?! I’m not five, you skank!’
“How do you know what ‘skank’ means but not ‘pervert?!’”
‘I heard it on TV once, okay!’
“So you don’t know what that means either?!”
“Would you two bitches SHUT UP!” Turbo Granny peaks out of Momo’s bag. “Yeesh, my good vibes from the bath are completely gone…”
Momo chuckles at the yokai’s whining as she starts up the mountain path.
“Ah, where do you think you’re going?” Aira asks as she moves to stand in Momo’s way.
‘I’m going exploring!’
“Yeah, no you’re not.”
‘What?! But there’s so much more of the mountain to see!’ Momo protests.
“Nuh, uh! You are marching your ass back up that mountain and staying in that house until the rest of us can go with you!”
‘But Aira whyyyy?! That’s not faaaaair!’
“Fair, shmair!” She girl says, pushing Momo along the path back to Jiji’s house. “I am not letting you out of anyone’s sight ever again!”
‘But I gotta see the tsuchinoko shrine!’ Momo whines. ‘Okarun was so pumped for it!’
“You can check it out later, together!”
‘But I wanna be the one who tells him about it!’
“Tough!”
‘NO!’ Momo goes limp in Aira’s arms, planting her butt firmly on the pavement. ‘I’m not going til I see the tsuchinoko shrine!’
Aira sighs wearily, rubbing at her temples with her well-manicured nails.
“I’ll go to the shrine,” The girl eventually says.
Momo, shocked from her pout, blinks up at her. ‘Huh?’
“I’ll go to the shrine, learn all about it, and tell you so you can impress your little thrall, so long as you go back to the house. How’s that sound?”
Momo looks away, worrying her lips with her teeth, before letting out a huffy ‘Fine,’ and getting up off the ground.
‘But I thought you said you weren’t letting me out of your sight?’
“I just want you back at the house,” Aira says pointedly. “Besides, if Granny there is as lucky as you say, that should be enough to keep you safe for a five-minute walk. But you go straight there! If I hear about any detours, you will pay for it, Ayase.”
The girl’s low voice is so tense and full of anger that Momo wilts a little in front of her.
‘Fine! Fine, yeesh, I’ll go already.’ The psychic grumbles, trudging off down the path. ‘Don’t know what climbed up her skirt…’
Turbo Granny leans over one shoulder. “You don’t know a damn thing about what men like that do to girls like you, huh?”
‘What, attack me? Figured that out for myself, thank you very much.’
Turbo Granny sighs and shakes her head.
The pair continue down the road, stopping to look at passing trees and admire ancient houses.
“Thought Aira told you to go straight home,” Turbo Granny reminds Momo.
‘She said no detours! I’m staying on the path, just taking my time.’
“Heh, always a rebel, huh? Don’t envy Seiko one bit.”
Momo snorts.
‘Hey, I never asked. Did you sense anything at the house?’ Momo asks.
It’s silent for a moment, before Turbo Granny lets out a grumpy huff.
“That place is no good,” She says. “Whole damn thing reeks of human blood…”
A bead of cold sweat digs icy trails down Ken’s back. The great cavern Jiji just busted in his own house wall yawns back, empty and dark. It raises the hackles on the back of his neck, an unnerving sense of… wrongness permeating form the small space with each wave of the paper talismans.
Something in the back of his head screams run, fight, hide, do something other than stand here! But in the wake of these strange feelings, Ken stands paralyzed. From the tenseness of the boy next to him, Jiji’s fairing no better.
An anxious look is shared between the teens, neither eager to put voice to what they’re thinking about the secret room hiding behind the wall. It’s in that same moment the tense silence is broken by the ring of an aging doorbell.
Ken about jumps out of his skin, shoulders arched defensively as he whirls around to face the entry way.
“Wh-Who’s that?!”
“Ah!” Jiji shouts, bolting over to the door. “I bet it’s Momo!”
“M-Momo?” Ken questions.
Why would Momo use the doorbell?
Before Ken can voice this observation to the taller boy, Jiji’s already thrown the door open wide.
“Momo! You’re never gonna believe this-!”
The boy stops short, as if the rest of the sentence was ripped from his lungs. Peeking warily around Jiji’s side, Ken takes in the strange crowd standing outside this cursed house.
A gaggle of middle-aged women stand on the front stoop, dressed in well-pressed blouses, skirts, and pant suits. Each one’s hair a mix of neat perms and tight curls, their faces etched with deep laugh lines and forehead creases, looking every bit the stereotypical aunties one would only see on special holidays and family gatherings.
Their leader, a short woman with tight, curly black hair, looks up at Jiji from under a wide, bushy unibrow.
“Ah, Jin,” she says in a raspy, smoker’s voice. “Welcome back.”
The originally silent house is now filled with the sounds of tearing paper and crunching teeth as the aunties dig into a wide assortment of treats. Cookies, crackers, hard candies, the works, pulled from purses and bags as if they were filled with a bottomless supply. They’ve taken over the center table, most of the women kneeling on cushions surrounding every side. Their leader, Ms. Naki, as Ken heard Jiji call her, reclines on the couch, legs crossed, looking every bit a hardened empress on her throne.
“You know those idiots that moved into the corner house?” One woman asks in a naisly tone. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard them say hello!”
“Augh, rude people make me so sick!” Another responds, crumbs flying from her mouth as she speaks mid-chew.
“What are they thinking?” Ms. Naki says, letting out a long draw from her cigarette. “This is our land, after all. Someone ought a go teach those so-and-sos a thing or two about manners!”
The other woman trill and tittle to one another, as if this were the most sensible, polite thing in the world to consider, and not a thinly-veiled threat against Jiji’s neighbors.
Meanwhile, Jiji and Ken stand side by side just behind the couch, the pair stiff and frozen as they watch the women take over the living room. Jiji’s face is unreadable, mood hidden behind a look of placid acceptance. Ken, on the other hand, is struggling to keep his fists planted firmly at his sides and his feet from shuffling around on the hard woods. Because, for some reason or another…
…He does not like these people.
The feeling of raised hackles has only increased as the women make themselves at home. Something about their pallid complexion, their too-tight smiles, and chirping voices is setting off every nerve in his body. What he’s come to recognize as the curse thrashes against his chest, waves of distrust and aggression rippling through bone and muscle.
It makes him want to bare his teeth, which is completely ridiculous because what is he, a stray cat?! Why didn’t Seiko or Turbo Granny warn him that yokai powers came with odd side effects…?
“Jin!”
The woman’s bark startles both boys from their thoughts. She turns to look lazily at them over her shoulder.
“Don’t just stand there like a tree, sit your ass down and have a snack!”
With the lilt to her voice, the invite could almost be mistaken for politeness, to the point where Jiji even thanks her for the offer, but another whiff of her scent hits Ken’s nose. Incense, and thick perfumes, and cigarette smoke and dirt…
A growl fights its way up his throat, and it takes all of Ken’s effort to force it back down.
“You know, it would really do you to be more sociable when we come over,” Ms. Naki continued monologue pulls Ken’s attention back to the moment. “It’s thanks to us you even have this house to live in at all.”
“Ah-ha, you’re right, thanks ma’am!” Jiji agrees placidly, empty-headed smile on his face as he bows to the woman.
“It’s hard with your folks in the hospital. A good thing you have such generous people to look after you in times like these. If it weren’t for us, you’d be out on the streets, living in a box!” The woman says with a scoff.
“She’s right, my boy, you should be grateful!” An aunty agrees through snickering laughter.
Ken’s stomach turns sour.
“Jiji, who are these people?” he finally asks.
“They’re the Kitos,” the boy whispers back to him. “They’re the owners of this land, my parents rent the house from them. They’ve agreed to let me stay here for free while they recover in the hospital, so really, she’s right, they’ve been very hospitable…”
It’s hospitable to let a minor with no job stay in their own home while their parents are sick without paying rent?! Sounds like the bare minimum to Ken, but what does he know about this sort of thing? It just makes that sour feeling in his gut worse…
Still, they’re the landlords…
“Wh-what are they gonna say about the hole in the wall?!” Ken hisses, usual anxiety suddenly winning out at the thought of consequences.
“If they notice, just play dumb!” Jiji says back, smiling carefree at the other boy.
Ken feels like he’s definitely about to lose it, before Mrs. Naki breaks the moment again.
“Hey, Jin. You took off without telling us. You’re supposed to ask permission, first.”
The woman pins Jiji with a pointed look, and Ken has to give the taller boy points for not flinching. Still, asking permission to go on a trip? What kind of landlords are these people? The owner of his apartment complex would never micromanage his time like that…
Jiji plays it off like an expert, laughing and smiling like the goofy teen boy he wants them to think he is.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just my good buddy here-” suddenly, there’s an arm around Ken’s shoulders. “-Wanted to hang out, but he didn’t have a ride, so I went and got him!”
Ken jolts, eyes flicking from Jiji, to the women, and back again. The taller boy casts him a look that Ken reads instantly. Play along like your life depends on it.
“He’s my good buddy, after all!” Jiji reiterates.
Ken, sweating and stuttering, squeaks out a few agreeable hums and head nods, praying that it’s enough. All that earlier yokai bravado seems to have fled in the wake of the moment.
“He’s not another spirit medium, is he?” Ms. Naki asks in a low tone. “Cause if you brought another of those around here, we’re gonna have a problem.”
A medium…? Momo and her grandmother come to mind at once, but before Ken can ponder what that might mean for them, the air is broken by the harsh sound of metal creaking. One of the aunties has crushed a whole soda can in one fist.
“Whaaat?! You think this is funnyyyy?!” She shrieks at Jiji’s placid face.
Another crunch.
“There’s no ghosts around here, ya’ idjet!”
Another crunch.
“You tryin’ ta destroy our property’s value?!”
And another.
“Don’t go telling lies about this place being haunted!”
Ken flinches back bodily. He never handled adults getting mad at him well, and something about these people made the threats seem scarily real. Jiji, to his credit, holds his ground with a pleasing smile.
“No no!” He assures them, hands raised. “Does he even look like a medium to you?”
The boy slings an arm around Ken’s shoulders again, and the boy is torn between feeling grateful for the defense and mildly offended that Jiji doesn’t think he could be some cool and suave ghost hunter.
“Those other guys were total scammers; I’m never going to one of those again!” Jiji says with a laugh.
The women at the table huff and sniff but seems placated by the routine. That is, until a soft click sounds from the couch. Both boys turn to see light glinting off the end of something long and metallic.
Ken freezes, breath caught in his throat. Ms. Naki sits with a hunting rifle perched in her lap, one hand caressing the long, double barrel.
“You know, Jin,” she begins in that raspy tone. “I got a hunting license a few months back. And I hear accidents can happen all the time up in mountains like these. One oughta’ be careful. Can’t imagine a poor lad getting shot ‘cause he just happened to step between my gun and some boar.”
She turns the gun, open face pointed generally in the boys’ direction. Not directly targeting, but the threat is understood. Cold sweat pools down Ken’s back again, along with another spark of anger.
Who the hell does she thing she is, just causally threatening people like that?!
Somehow, Jiji keeps his cool.
“H-Hey, Ms. Naki, be careful where you point that thing! I know you’re not serious, but if some cop happened by and saw you, they might still-”
As if orchestrated by some deity with a sick sense of timing and humor, the door opens for a man in a blue uniform to step through.
“Gooood afternoon!” He greets in a cheery voice, only to pause at the sight before him.
Ken can’t even imagine how this must look, a middle-aged woman bearing a hunter’s rifle at two high school kids, but damn if he isn’t glad to see another adult right now. Ken moves to grab Jiji’s arm, to pull him out of the way and let the cop handle things from here, when a new voice enter the space.
“What a drag!” The deep, loud voice startles Ken and Jiji both. “Chamber of commerce guys almost got us at our favorite hot spring!”
A whole pack of middle-aged men, all with the same sallow skin and perfect teeth as the aunties file in past the cop and into the living room.
“Ah well, thanks to Tsuru here,” the lead man in a red sweater locks an arm around the cop’s neck. “We managed to give those wakadoos the slip!”
He ends his sentence in uproarious laughter, and Ken watches in horror as the cop cracks a smile, looking at ease at the other man’s side instead of terrified or offended like he should.
“We’re gonna have to find a new favorite hot spring!” Another man comments with a laugh.
The aunties laugh now too, beckoning the men to join them for snacks around the table. Ms. Naki shakes her head with a weary sigh.
“What kind of trouble did you knuckleheads get into this time?!”
“It’s no big deal, Ma, lighten up!”
It’s then Ken feels his stomach drop. These men are from the same family. And they’re friends with the cops. He shares a brief glance with Jiji to see the same realization reflected in his eyes.
They’re on their own here.
“Heeey, Jin!” the man in the red sweater sidles up to them now and puts an arm around the taller boy. “Where’ve you been off to?” he says with a tight, too wide smile.
Ken backs up to make room, body tense and weary as he watches the interaction. Jiji gives another empty-headed smile.
“Aww, you know, I was with a friend!”
The man’s face changes, eyes opening wide, lips stretching tighter over gums, leaning further into Jiji’s space. “You better not be lying to me, boy. If there’s one thing I friggin hate, it’s a liar.”
“Eh, heh heh,” Jiji chuckles nervously. “I’m aware Mr. Mondo.”
Suddenly, his wrinkled face turns to look at Ken, eyes boring deep into his soul. The boy holds back a frightful meep.
“Who’s this guy?” Mr. Mondo asks.
“Oh, that’s my good buddy Ken!” Jiji almost shouts, stepping between the older man and the smaller boy. “He’s the friend I was hanging out with; he wanted to come over to my place!”
Mr. Mondo hums thoughtfully, eyes still locked on Ken over Jiji’s shoulder.
“If you’re Jiji’s friend,” he addresses Ken directly. “Then you ought a know his favorite soccer team.”
He says it with a happy look on his face, but Ken can feel the malice radiating off the man’s body. He’s fishing for something, and he intends to get it. Though why he’s so eager to prove he and Jiji aren’t that good of friends escapes him.
“C’mon, kid, tell me what it is.”
Jiji peeks over the man’s shoulder, casting Ken wide, anxious blinks in some code the possessed boy does not understand. Feeling a little more sweat form across his brow, Ken tries to steel the nerves wriggling about in his gut and forms an answer.
“Z-Zaint Germain!” he coughs out.
The man’s tense eyes continue to bore into his, before wrinkling up at the corners with returning smile lines.
“Ahh, so you do know! My mistake, my mistake!” Mr. Mondo slaps Ken on the back a few times with a hearty laugh before sidling off to join the others.
Jiji bolts right to Ken’s side, face full of surprise, fear, and awe.
“Dude, how did you know that?!” He asks in a tight whisper.
Ken flicks his eyes to the right a few times, until the taller boy takes the hint and follows the direction. The poster they used to hide the hastily made hole proudly displays the name ‘Zaint Germain’ overtop of an athlete dribbling a ball down a grassy field.
“Aaaaah, smart thinking bro!” Jiji hisses out.
Ken has to fight not to flush at the praise. We’re still supposed to be rivals here, Ken, control yourself!
“Jin.”
Ms. Naki’s voice startles both boys back to the situation. She’s glaring at them out of the corner of her eye.
“Where’s that girl gone off to?”
Ken feels ice form in his gut.
“G-Girl?” Jiji stutters, looking caught off guard for the first time in the whole encounter. “What girl? There’s no girl here, just me and Ken!”
Ms. Naki doesn’t move.
“You lied to me, Jin.”
Jiji gulps and opens his mouth to protest before Ms. Naki puts a hand on her gun again.
“You said her name soon as you opened the door, heard it clear as day. Now be a good boy and tell me where this ‘Momo’ is.”
Jiji takes a step back, voice frozen with fear and trepidation, at a loss for how to get out of this one, when a small shadow steps in front of him.
“You’re not doing anything to Momo,” Ken says, voice scratchy with a low growl.
Ms. Naki scoffs. “Buncha spoiled brats.”
She spits out her cigarette. The men stand from their seats, the women turn to stare, and the tension snaps as all hell breaks loose.
The shrine stands as tall, silent, and old as the one the Ayases live in.
Well… silent-er given the lack of too-hot elderly women and energetic psychic teens, though as Aira takes in the sight before her, she thinks this shrine’s owner might not be too far off.
There’s a man on the porch, dressed in traditional shrine keeper attire, but that’s not the odd part about him. No, what’s odd is the fact that he’s standing on his head. Completely vertical, legs high in the air, baggy pants pooling around his thighs in a way that, thankfully, preserves his modesty. It should be impressive really, how still he’s holding the position, but Aira can only feel a deep sense of second-hand cringe at how long she’s been watching this strange performance go on. It’s been a good five minutes, and the man hasn’t acknowledged her presence at the gate whatsoever.
‘Are all shrine keepers just destined to be total weirdos?’ She thinks to herself.
She taps a foot impatiently against the stone courtyard, one manicured nail picking at an opposing cuticle, a visual representation of the rising tide of impatience within the young woman. Just as Aira’s about ready to open her mouth to force his attention, the man speaks.
“Can I help you?” He asks casually, voice dry with disinterest.
‘Oh, so you did know I was standing here, you time wasting bastard?!’ Aira’s inner voice rages.
She bites the fire down, that’s not how you win favors, after all. Instead, she pulls up some of that sweet, innocent honey and drips it all over her tone.
“Oh, hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt, I was just looking for the tsuchinoko shrine?” Her eyes sparkle as she flutters her lashes.
The man finally turns his head, revealing sleepy eyes and a rather impressive unibrow. He blinks lazily, showing no shift in mood upon seeing her gorgeous face. Instead, he finally lowers himself to the ground with a sigh, moving as if he had all the time in the world.
“Yep, you’ve found it.” The man sits upright, massaging at a spot on his neck. “Sorry, I was just shooting a clip. Tryin’ to be a BooTuber…”
The shrine keeper picks up a stand with a smartphone propped up on it, pocketing the devices before striding over to the doors as if Aira wasn’t even there. What the hell? She turned on the utmost of Aira charm, and it didn’t do a thing! Is she really losing her touch that hard?!
“Well? Are you coming?”
Aira jolts out of her thoughts to see the man looking back at her from the open doors, face as relaxed and placid as before.
“Uhh…. oh! Yeah! Coming!”
The man leads her into the main building, a dark yet cozy space made from tatami mat floors and natural wood carved walls, the paneling of which are decorated with ink brush portraits of towering mountains and sprawling forests. It’s every bit the picture of a traditional shrine, certainly classier and more elegant than the Ayase shrine.
Aira takes in the sight with a little more awe than she thought she’d have. It is a nice building.
“So, what brings you here?” The man asks, drawing Aira’s attention back. “This place don’t really get the attention it used to.”
“It doesn’t?” Aira asks.
“Nope. Don’t even make money off the shrine anymore. Kinda why I’m trying this BooTube thing, I hear you can make bank off doing these ‘shorts’ or whatever?”
‘Now that’s just sad…’
“I’ve got some… friends…” the word still feels strange in her mouth. “That like this sort of thing. Occult stuff. Thought I’d check it out for them before we all make the trek over.”
The man casts a curious look over his shoulder. Well, as curious as a man this sleepy looking can appear.
“Really?” He asks. “Well, better prepare yourself for disappointment.”
“Uhhhh… huh?” Aira questions, as the man pulls open a silk curtain.
Behind the display is a wood pedestal, atop which sits a white cushion set into the cap. At first, Aira sees nothing, until the man steps away to reveal a dried out, shriveled up snakeskin, so old and decayed it genuinely looks like a trailing goldfish turd.
Aira’s face twists up into a confused sneer.
“That’s… a tsuchinoko…?”
“Ehhh, not really…”
Aira squints her eyes at the man, a silent demand to explain.
“There’s an old tale about a snake god from these mountains stretching back so far there’s no record of when it starts,” The man begins, looking wistfully up at the mountain mural. “Our oldest surviving documents say the legend goes like this. ‘A dragon rising to heaven will cast a rainbow, and the mountain’s wrath will engulf the village.’ People used to believe that meant a great serpent, living deep beneath the earth, would cause the volcano to erupt if it got angry or hungry. To quell this, they offered up a sacrifice; one of their own children.”
A chill goes down Aira’s spine at these words. The face of a young girl flashes in her mind. Something in the core of her being writhes at the thought of a child being hurt.
“Since then, even two hundred years later, the volcano hasn’t erupted, and the village was blessed with the hot springs.”
“So, what, they were right?” Aira questions bitterly.
“Nah. Least, I don’t think so. My dad didn’t either.”
Aira glances the man’s way. He looks genuine as he speaks those words.
“He always told me that gods don’t make up legends, people do. People who are scared, so they can’t think straight, start making up things to explain what they don’t understand, give them some kind of solution to latch onto. He said it’s our job to keep the story alive, so we can explain why it’s wrong and prevent people from going back to the old ways.”
Aira’s eyes drift back towards the shriveled-up snakeskin.
“Sounds like you have a pretty important job, then…”
“Ahhh, wish other people felt the same way,” the shrine keeper laments, arms crossed behind his head. “People thought that skin was from the serpent, shed during the last eruption. They started praying to that instead to quell it’s anger. But, eventually, people stopped coming to pray. Dad had to call it a tsuchinoko skin to try and bring in some of that extra tourist money, but even that dried up. Handouts from the local landowners are the only thing keeping us afloat. That’s why I hope this BooTube thing works out, but my head standing skills just don’t seem to be getting a lot of traction…”
She looks down again at the skin. A frail, shriveled little thing, but the last remaining herald of a blood-soaked history. To keep people from going back to the old ways… She thinks of a mother, abandoned and alone, forgotten by society because acknowledging her situation would be too dirty for some people’s sensibilities…
They could have used something like that.
Scoffing, Aira stands to her full height.
“Well, of course not, who the hell wants to watch a guy do nothing but stand on his head for thirty minutes?!”
“The shorts are only like a few seconds each…”
“Look, you’re never going to get anyone’s attention like that! You need something more, something the people really want to see!”
The man quirks one side of his forehead spanning brow. “Oh yeah? And how would you know anything about that?”
Aira smirks. “Because I am heaven’s chosen guardian!
Sweeping in, the girl grabs the shrine keeper’s phone and stand out of his pocket in a flash.
“H-Hey, what?”
“Get me a ring light, Mr… ah…?”
“Manjiro.”
“Mr. Manjiro! I’m gonna make you and this shrine a star.”
‘You think Okarun and Jiji are getting along?’ Momo asks the cat dozing in her bag.
The house now looms in front of them, looking the same as when she and Aira had left it. Despite Turbo Granny’s ominous words, Momo still can’t feel anything hostile in or around the building.
“Why you asking me? I don’t give a shit about those idjets.”
‘Okarun’s your follower, right? Shouldn’t you care at least a little bit? I mean, who’s gonna get you spicy takis if he dies?’
“Feh!” Turbo Granny says with a huff. “If he bites it that easily, he wasn’t a worthy follower in the first place!”
Momo chuckles silently to herself as she turns the nob to the front door. She projects her thoughts out as the barrier swings open.
‘I’m back! Hope you didn’t burn anything down while I-’
The thought stops short as shock freezes Momo’s lungs. The living room is a mess, furniture overturned, snacks and wrappers scattered over the floor, boards and bits of drywall scraped out of the walls. It looks like a mini tornado came through just the first floor!
But what holds Momo’s attention the most are the two bodies lying prone in the center of the room.
Jiji and Okarun, both shirtless, bruised, and bleeding, neither responsive. Above them stand a gaggle of strange, wrinkled people, the woman wearing tight hairdos and garish clothes, and the men wearing nothing at all. It’s not until one man raises his head and turns to look at her that a pit opens in Momo’s stomach, and all that shock turns to fear.
It’s the men from the hot spring.
“Ugh, what a drag,” a man says.
“Tell me about it, that kid was an animal!”
The men rub and dab at a variety of wounds, some fresh and bleeding, others blooming into purple and yellow bruises. Are those… scratches along one’s arm? They’re long and spindly, as if a lion had raked its claws across the man’s skin.
“Still can’t believe he bit me…”
“Maybe we should get you checked for rabies, Toka!”
The men laugh. It’s then Momo notices the fact that Okarun looks far more battered than Jiji, as though he fought madly in a tense struggle, only going down after he was given a serious blow to the back of the head. A sizable knot is already swelling on his scalp.
Momo feels a spark of hot anger light at the sight.
“My, what fortunate timing!”
A raspy sounding voice draws Momo’s eyes away from her best friend and to the troll-looking woman reclined on the couch.
“With you here, girly, that makes three!” The older woman says with a sneer. She turns to the others. “All the offerings are gathered – Let the festival begin!”
As if her words activated some sleeper code, the men rise and charge straight for the door. It’s enough to snap Momo out of her freeze. Lifting her leg in a motion she watched Bruce Lee do a hundred times as a kid, she swings one prosthetic foot into a man’s head in a sturdy high kick.
The man grunts, landing face first against the entryway wall, sliding to the floor with a comical squeaking sound. But the strange grey men aren’t done. They charge Momo from every angle, wielding a variety of wood paddles and fans as weapons. But they’re not fighting a Momo dizzy from steam and half submerged in water.
It’s almost laughable how easily she can swat them away, a combo of mechanical legs and psychic arms smacking faces, punching stomachs and sweeping feet. The men tumble to the floor like knocked bowling pins. She even gives one a kick to the nads for good measure, unable to stop her smirk as she hears the wind being pressed from his lungs.
The time she takes to mock winds up being her undoing, as another of the men sidles up behind the girl while she’s distracted, arms wrapping around Momo’s body, sinching her hands tight against her sides.
Momo growls internally, bearing her teeth at him in a grimace. Her psychic hands reach out to grab the overturned coffee table, raising it high above the man’s head. But before Momo can act, the man rears back, and cracks his forehead down on her skull.
Momo’s head rings like a tin can. She gasps silently as the world spins and blurs, the force of the blow rattling her mind. The psychic hands drop like cut puppet strings. The table crashes to the floor. Momo goes limp in the man’s arms.
‘Crap… it’s… spinning…’ her mind mutters sluggishly.
There’s a cold sensation on her leg, and it takes a few moments for Momo to realize the man’s hand is on her thigh, the massive appendage gripping at skin rather roughly. She barely feels it through the haze. The hand starts to creep up, higher and higher towards her skirt, and suddenly, there’s a sensation like slick oil pooling in her gut.
‘What’s… he doing…?’ Momo wonders.
“You really have no idea what guys like that do to girls like you, huh?”
Turbo Granny’s words ring loudly in her ears, and suddenly, Momo’s desperate for the hand to leave her body right now. But she can’t get a grip on anything, because the world’s still spinning and the man is almost bruising her ribs with how tight he’s holding her.
“There, there, now, don’t be scared!” The man almost purrs into her ear. “You may be crippled, but as long as you’re a good girl, I’ll treat you just fine!”
Momo wants to throw up.
Suddenly, a puff of white appears in the man’s face, startling him into stopping his upward trajectory. In a blink, his face is filled with a snarling face and rows of sharp teeth.
“The hell do you think you’re doing, ya damn turd?!” Turbo Granny shouts, the rage in her voice rattling the man’s glasses.
Startled, he releases Momo and all but flings himself backwards. His foot catches on a stray champaign bottle, thrown at some point in the chaos. He slips, falls backwards, and catches the coffee table’s corner with the back of his skull.
The man yelps in pain, then curls up into a ball on the floor, moaning as he cradles the back of his head. Momo falls to her knees, silently coughing as she’s finally able to stretch her lungs enough to take in some air. Turbo Granny glowers at the wounded man.
“Serves ya right! That’ll teach ya to squish a lady when she’s trying to get some beauty sleep!”
‘Thanks… for another save…’ Momo tells her. ‘I might need your hand with these guys…’
“The hell do you think I’m gonna do?” The cat says from over her shoulder. “I’d be more worried about those bitches over there!”
‘Huh?’
Momo looks up just in time to see a mass of black perm and pink sweater spin towards her with inhuman speed.
The psychic throws up a barrier, wincing at the force that crashes into it as Momo’s sent skidding across the living room floor. It’s the lead aunty from earlier. She stances up, doing a few flourishing Kungfu moves, striking a pose with a glare that Momo assumes is supposed to intimidate her. Instead, it just pisses her off more.
‘You wanna go, you old bitty?’
The woman doesn’t respond, she only levels Momo with a glare before moving in for a strike. The lady moves with a quickness ill befitting of her age and stature, and Momo only has a fraction of a second to throw up a barrier before the blow makes contact.
The air seems to shiver from the hit, and Momo can feel the force as it dissipates through her shield.
‘Fuck, this lady is strong!’
The woman spits in frustration before switching to a follow up punch. Momo moves, dodging and weaving as the aging woman dishes out a smooth, consistent wave of uppercuts, karate chops, and round house kicks.
‘She’s fast, too!’
Leaping clear, Momo decides its time to play dirty. One teal hand wraps around the discarded coffee table and flings it towards the older woman’s back while the lady is preoccupied with Momo’s dodging. It’s a sure hit; there’s no way the woman can see the table coming unless she has eyes on the back of her head-
The aunty doesn’t even flinch, just throws her body into a ridiculously deep lunge, and the table sails cleanly over her head, flying straight for Momo instead.
‘Ah, what the hell?!’ The psychic groans in frustration.
“Ya might wanna block that!” Turbo Granny shrieks at the incoming object.
Momo’s psychic hands fly up and slice the table clean in half just before it barrels into the girl. Shards of wood fly in all direction in a mini storm of debris, and its in the confusion that the perm-wearing woman decides to strike.
Her shadow flies up between the falling halves of table. Momo’s eyes go wide as the woman digs her heels into the chewed-up hardwoods.
“Jenefer…”
Her hips pivot, drawing arms close to her chest.
“Lopez…”
Wicked eyes meet Momo’s shocked expression without a hint of mercy.
“ANACONDA!”
Another swivel. The woman’s arms shoot out with a speed to rival the punching shrimp alien. Momo catches both square in the stomach, and the force of it sends the girl flying straight into the opposing wall.
The impact rings with an earth-shattering crash. Clouds of dust and more debris explode through the rest of the house, the air filled with a clattering sound as slats of wood collapse and fall in Momo’s wake.
The woman lets out a relieved breath, coming back to a neutral stance. Her children break out into cheers around her.
“Yeah, Ma, great job!”
“You sure taught that bitch a lesson!”
The cheering doesn’t stir the older woman. Stoney eyes stay locked on the space where Momo vanished.
As the dust clears, a shadow comes into view. The men’s cheers turn to gasps of shock and disbelief as they see Momo, still standing, crouched in the shadows of the hidden room beyond the wall.
Paper talismans flutter in the breeze. Momo wipes dust of her face with a sleeve.
‘Yeesh, that old bat it tough! What is she?!’
“Eh, she’s just another mean old lady,” Turbo Granny huffs.
‘No old lady is that tough!’
“You forgetting your grandma?” The cat reminds her.
‘Ah. Good point.’
Momo looks up to see the members of the Kito family forming up beside the newly created opening.
‘Hey!’ Momo shouts, spreading her psychic connection to all the minds she can reach. ‘What did you shit heads do to my friends?!’ She sniffs the air. ‘Ugh, and what’s with this creepy, dank room? It smells crazy bad!’
“Gah!” One of the men shouts, grabbing at his head. “What is that?! It’s like I heard her voice inside my mind!”
“She made that table float earlier, and the statue at the hot spring!” Another shouts. “What’s up with her?!”
The older woman sneers.
“I don’t know who the hell you are, or what kind of strange powers you wield. But since you’re mucking up our plans to have our festival, the only thing I can figure is that you musta’ come her to destroy the village.”
Momo quirks an eyebrow in confusion.
“For generations, we Kitos have protected this land, and we ain’t gonna let you ruin things now!”
‘The hell are you talking about?!’ Momo shouts. ‘Protect it from what?!’
The Kito woman huffs. “Stupid girl, meddling in affairs you don’t even understand!”
‘You jackasses are the ones who barged into my friend’s home, wrecked the place, and beat them to hell! You think you got a right to push people around like that?! Get the hell out!’
“Bah!” The woman turns her nose up at Momo. “It’s thanks to us people like you can even come live here and use the hot springs. Because for the last 200 years…”
The rest of the family forms behind her, striking various ridiculous poses.
“…The Kito family has made offerings to the Great Serpent!”
‘Serpent?!’ Momo wonders.
“Uh oh…” she hears Turbo Granny mutter from the bag.
Before Momo can questions the cat on what she knows, the Kito woman continues.
“That’s why the volcano has been quiet all this time, and why the Great Serpent has blessed us with the hot springs! Without our regular human sacrifices, this whole mountain would be buried under a river of magma!”
The words send a jolt of disbelief and disgust down Momo’s spine. ‘Wait, you’ve been feeding people to a volcano snake?!’
“It’s the Great Serpent! Treat our god with some respect!” The Kito woman roars, spit flying from her mouth. “Tch. Seems you need a lesson in history, girl.”
The woman closes her eyes and speaks as if delivering a story of great power and reverence.
“The spot we’re standing on was first, the sight of the original alter to the Great Serpent, and the location of the first sacrifice. Over the years, we’ve built many houses on this same plot, each one a welcoming abode to our new set of offerings. After each alter was used, they would be buried, along with the sacrifices, so the Great Serpent could feast in peace, as a part of our most sacred of duties!”
The house is the alter.
A chill runs down Momo’s spine. ‘Is that what happened to Jiji’s parents…?’
Turbo Granny gives no response, the cat a silent weight on her back.
“We were short on offerings,” the woman continues. “But lucky for us, the one who got away returned with fresh meet for the alter. It’s time you joined your friends for dinner.”
The woman claps her hands together, and the ground lists under Momo’s feet. The girl looks down to see the floor shift and bend, the floorboards morphing as the shoes of her prosthetics begin to sink into the now unstable materials.
‘Wh-What the hell?!’
“I think it’s time to get out!” Turbo Granny wails.
Momo tries to lift a leg, only for the floor to sink further under her movement. The girl yelps mentally as she suddenly falls a few inches deeper into the ground.
“And away you go!” The Kito woman says with a cackle. “The Great Serpent is awfully hungry!”
They laugh as Momo struggles, flailing against the ever-shifting ground.
“Augh, great, now we’re serpent food!” The old yokai complains in Momo’s ear.
‘Not yet!’ She declares.
Ropes of teal shoot from Momo’s hands, spectral fingers grasping at the edges of the opening. With a harsh tug, Momo yanks herself from the sucking grip of the quicksand floor and rocketing them straight for the outside.
“Oh no you don’t!” The Kito woman shouts, herself and a few of her sons taking defensive stances at the opening. “We won’t let you cross this threshold-!”
Momo smacks straight into the woman’s mouth, destroying her stance and sending them flying back into the living room.
‘You and what army?’ Momo says smugly, before she’s promptly beset by the men of the Kito family.
The attempt to overwhelm with sheer numbers, but Momo’s in the zone now. She lashes out with punches and kicks, each emphasized in reach and strength by her psychic powers. The men are swept aside like ragdolls in a child’s tantrum, flying left and right as she weaves between arms and evades outstretched hands.
“What the hell…” One man says through breathless pants. “She’s way too strong for a girl…”
‘See, underestimating me like that was your first mistake,’ Momo says in response.
She raises a psychic fist over the cowering man, who’s eyes widen in fear of the next blow, before the sound of raspy laughter draws Momo’s attention away. She glances over one shoulder to see the older woman standing before the hole in the wall with her arms crossed.
“Well, if you’re going to put up such a fuss about being our sacrifice, I guess we’ll just have to make due with the rest!”
A pair of sons approach the hole with burdens slung over their shoulders. It takes Momo half a second to recognize the shaggy black hair and circular glasses.
‘Okarun!’ She shrieks, turning on a dime and rushing for the gathered Kitos.
“Oops, too late!” The lady Kito says as her goons dump both Okarun and Jiji’s bodies through the opening and onto the quickly sinking floor. “If you want them, you’ll have to go get them, girl!”
The woman laughs, like she’s gotten Momo into some kind of corner. But the girl’s determined expression never changes. In fact, it hardens further. Teeth bared as her sprint continues, the distance between her and their assailants growing ever smaller.
‘If we’re going down there, then you’re coming with us, old bag!’
“Eh?” The lead aunty says dumbly.
With a wide sweep of her hands, Momo’s psychic arms reach out, scooping the bulk of the Kitos up between them and whisking them through the wall’s opening, as she leaps into the void with a silent battle cry.
“H-Heeeey waaaaait!” The head Kito cries.
“Ma, heeeelp!” Her sons wail.
But there’s nothing they can do. The ball of bodies hits the sinking ground, and the impact causes the whole floor to collapse in on itself. It opens in a flurry of dirt and dust into a wide, open cavern, pitch dark without an inch of sunlight touching the scraped-smooth walls.
Screaming fills the air as the Kitos tumble down in variously embarrassing poses. It would make for a comical sight, were Momo not focused solely on two of the bodies rapidly approaching the coming ground.
Momo tucks her arms into her side, willing her body to fall faster in effort to catch up to Okarun and Jiji’s prone forms. Once she’s in range, her psychic hands reach out, scooping the boys out of their freefall and bundling them closer to her. Momo’s arms quickly find purchase around Okarun, squeezing the boy close to her as if he were a lifeline. A quick glance down confirms the rapidly approaching surface beneath them.
‘Granny, grab Jiji!’ Momo shouts to the yokai in her bag.
“What?!” The cat shrieks in protests. “Why me?!”
‘I need one of my hands free or we’re gonna be pancakes in a few minutes!’
“The hell do you think I’m gonna hold onto him with?! I don’t got thumbs, you dumb bitch!”
‘Just figure it out!’
Momo lets go of Jiji, forcing herself not to worry about him for a few moments so she can redirect her psychic powers towards the ground. Teal balloons out into the familiar landing bag he made for herself and Okarun on the night they outran Turbo Granny. They’re still falling fast, but this is all she can do. Momo closes her eyes and buries her face in Okarun’s unconscious shoulder as the ground rushes up to meet them.
The impact is hard and heavy, the force of it snapping Momo’s landing bag almost immediately. Their little crew bounces high back into the air, the force of their rebound rattling Momo to the bone.
She feels Jiji separate first, his weight sailing away from her own, coupled with the high-pitched cry of Turbo Granny as she, assumedly, is pulled with him. But she can’t think on that now, they’re falling back down again and Okarun’s still not waking up. Momo tightens her grip again and spins the pair so her back faces the approaching surface. She guards them with another teal shield as they make a second impact, this one much smaller than the last.
She and Okarun bounce a few times before slowing enough to roll across the strangely even surface beneath them. Once they finally come to a stop, Momo lets out the breath she’d been holding since she jumped in after them and lets herself pant in the quiet dark of… wherever they are.
“Mmmmph…”
A groan draws Momo’s attention downward. The dark head of hair resting on her chest begins to stir. At last, that familiar face she loves so much lifts up, Okarun blinking his wide, brown eyes sleepily. He looks up at her, expression confused.
“Momo…?” He blinks again. His eyes go wide. “M-Momo!”
Okarun scrambles up, trying to put some distance between himself and the girl he was suddenly lying on top of.
“I-I… sorry, I don’t know-!”
Momo grabs the panicking boy by the shoulder and yanks him down onto her, wrapping his body in a tight hug.
‘I thought I said to stop being so cagy with me,’ She says.
Okarun lays frozen stiff in her arms, before finally relaxing into the hold. His chin comes to rest on her shoulder.
“…Sorry,” he offers as apology.
Momo just leans her head against his. ‘I’m glad you’re alright.’
After a moment of quiet, Okarun stirs again.
“Wait, where are we…? Last thing I remember, Jiji and I got jumped…”
‘Jiji!’ Momo sits up, the sudden movement almost throwing Okarun off her lap.
“W-Woah, what’s wrong?!”
‘We got separated in the fall! Him and Turbo Granny!’
“F-Fall?!”
‘Yeah, those Kito bastards had some kind of secret room full of charms that turned the floor into quicksand! We fell through the boards and down to here…’
Momo trails off as she looks back where they came from. Light shines from an opening a good hundred feet in the air, distance shrinking the hole to the size of a pinprick. Okarun follows her gaze and the boy’s mouth drops open at the realization.
“W-We fell… from there?!”
‘Augh, how the hell are we gonna get back?!’ Momo wails in anguish.
“And we still need to find Jiji…”
“Momo! Okarun! Help!”
Both teens perk up as their prayers are answered. Jiji’s deeper voice rings out through the cavern.
“H-Hang on!” Okarun shouts. “We’re coming!”
Okarun pushes himself to his feet, somewhat shakily with all the bruises and scrapes, before helping Momo stand as well. The pair begin a frantic search together, rushing towards the sound of Jiji’s voice as fast as they can. Okarun’s bare feet catch on cold, uneven surfaces as they pass.
‘Are these… roof shingles?’ He wonders to himself.
Surely not. Roof shingles, this far underground?
“Over here!”
It doesn’t take long for the pair to find their missing friend. Peeking over the nearest ledge, they spot their fellow teen, awake and hanging on for dear life to a rusted gutter drain.
Wait, a gutter drain?
‘Jiji, are you okay?!’ Momo sends a mental shout down.
“Y-Yeah, I guess!” Jiji replies.
“No, we ain’t, you idjet!” A little white head peaks out from behind Jiji’s own. “Four Eyes, get me out of this mess, damn it!”
“Wh-Why me?!” Okarun asks, incredulous.
“Cause I told ya too, dumb ass! What kinda follower can’t follow a simple command?!”
The bickering is interrupted by a spine-chilling crack. The rusted material gives way under Jiji’s grip sending him and the cat yokai free falling into the black depths bellow. Okarun gasps in horror, but Momo is quick to act.
‘Not on my watch!’
She reaches out a spectral hand, sending it spiraling after the falling pair as fast as she can. The fingers reach out, inching closer, and closer, but just as Momo goes for the grab, she misses. She feels Jiji’s arm just grace the fingertips, before he’s gone out of reach.
‘No!’ Momo shouts, Okarun looking equally distressed behind her as Jiji and Turbo Granny get farther and farther from sight.
Jiji screams as the darkness seems to consume him, wind whipping at his hair and hissing in his ears. Is this it? Will he be falling forever in this endless void of darkness with only a grumpy old cat spirit for company?
He doesn’t have to wonder long as a sudden weight smacks into him from bellow. Instead of the solid impact of ground, whatever material Jiji has landed on is… soft. Almost squishy. The boy bounces a few times before coming to a gentle stop, perfectly fine.
He blinks, then looks down at Turbo Granny, who migrated into his lap at some point. The yokai looks up at him and shrugs, just as confused. Jiji looks around him, one hand poking at the flexible ground beneath him.
“What did we land on…?” He wonders aloud.
A great ripple moves through the strange material, the rise and fall of a great breath from a massive creature. Jiji barely has time to be confused before whatever he’s sitting on undulates in a distinctly upsetting way. Suddenly, the air is hissing again as the boy and cat find themselves rapidly lifted through the air with surprising speed.
“WAAAAAAH!” Jiji shrieks as the odd structure he had been hanging from comes back into view.
Momo and Okarun watch Jiji reemerge from the shadow with jaws agape.
‘What… is that?!’ Momo shrieks.
Before them, a long, serpentine shape rises out of the darkness, a flour-like head blossoming open to reveal two interlocking rows of far-too human teeth. An eerie, yellow light blares from its petal-like rings, washing the cavern in a sickly light.
Despite its terrifying appearance, the… creature makes no overtly aggressive moves. Momo takes the moment to scoop Jiji off the thing’s back and drop him safely on the platform next to herself and Okarun.
“I-I got no idea!” The tall boy rambles, chest heaving and eyes wide with fear at his near-death experience.
“That… is a Kutagari…” Turbo Granny mutters, a strange look in her eye as she observes the snake-like being undulate across the cavern.
‘A what?! You know what that thing is?’ Momo presses the cat yokai.
Meanwhile, Okarun has been watching the serpent, face pinched in concentration. His eyes widen as the puzzle finally falls together.
“That’s a Mongolian death worm!” He suddenly shouts.
Momo and Jiji both startle at the boy’s sudden volume.
‘A what?!’ Momo asks again, feeling like the most lost one there.
“Oh! Like the one in your magazine!” Jiji adds as he catches on.
Okarun nods his head eagerly. “Yes! They’re giant worms that live underground in the deserts of Eurasia. But most accounts say they only grow to a few meters in length, no one’s ever reported an individual of this size!”
The sounds of quickly moving bodies pull the teens from their conversation. Shadows leap past them to form a line on a platform below. The Kitos stand, children arranged around their mother, as they all strike the same, unusual pose.
“Oh, Great Serpent!” Ms. Naki begins. “We, your loyal and honorable servants, the Kitos, grace your grand presence with another offering on this night!”
“Keep the pose or you’ll get got!” One son whispers harshly to the others.
Another flinches, quickly fixing his stance.
“Your meal tonight are those kids over there!” The head lady Kito continues, pointing at the trio of teens. “To be clear, they are not members of the Kito family!”
‘Wait, this is the giant worm those fucks have been feeding people to?!’
“F-Feeding people?!” Okarun asks, looking aghast.
“Like in the legend…” Jiji murmurs, sounding numb.
“Wait, what’s going on?!” Okarun continues, looking from Jiji, to Momo, and back again.
‘It’s a long story, I’ll explain later, but to cut things short, those guys have been doing some fucked shit in the name of this worm.’
Momo struts over to the edge of their platform and casts her psychic powers out over the ring of chanting Kitos, who have now moved on to doing some kind of ritualistic dance.
‘Hey, chuckle fucks!’ She shouts. ‘That thing you’re worshiping ain’t no god, it’s just some kind of giant animal!’
Her words have no time to even fall on their deaf ears, as in the same moment, the yellow glow increases harshly in intensity. Then, with a great crash, the worm lunges down on the ring of Kitos, it’s long body smashing through the platform and snaking down into the darkness bellow.
All three teens yell in terror and leap back.
“They got eaten!” Okarun and Jiji scream.
‘Shit, we gotta hide!’ After a quick glance, Momo spots what looks like a window in the side of a wall. ‘In there!’
The boys follow her lead without haste, all three piling in through the small opening. They land in what looks like a perfectly ordinary bedroom; with a desk and bookshelf at one end and the bed at the other. The setup looks strangely untouched, every inch covered by a thick layer of dust.
Okarun looks around.
“Is this… a house?”
‘Guess that lady wasn’t making it up when she said they buried the other houses…’
Okarun stares at Momo with wide eyes, before looking down, fiddling nervously with his glasses.
“Just who are these people…?” He mutters to himself.
Jiji is the first to stand, walking briskly over to the door. Well, as briskly as the bruises on his body will allow.
“C’mon, we gotta-!”
He’s cut off by a harsh, grating sound, something that reminds Jiji of the way air seems to warp under extreme heat, but in a form he can hear rather than see. His head pounds with a sudden headache, and he flinches away from the light of the window.
Wait… light?
Groans of pain and distress fill the air. Jiji looks down to see Okarun and Momo writhing on the floor, hands pressed to their heads in pain. An intense spotlight of yellow shines down on them from above.
“G-Guys?!” He nervously questions. “What’s wrong?!”
It’s then Okarun starts screaming, loud and feral, as if something was tearing him apart from the inside out. The other boy’s body begins to violently seize and twist in ways that shouldn’t be physically possible. The sight sparks a deep, primal fear in Jiji.
The boy backs away from the sight quickly, stumbling on his tired legs and falling to the floor. Jiji scrambles away on his back, until he finds his path blocked by the bedroom’s far wall.
Now, soundly trapped, he can only watch as the strange boy he treated like a rival while hoping for a friend changed into something new.
A great black shadow covers Okarun’s body. His limbs lengthen in unnatural ways, fingers stretching out until they take on the shape of large, obsidian claws. His hair turns white, and spills out in a massive tangle, the threads shot through with stripes of red, the whole mane writhing as if it were made of fire. A massive jaw forms over the lower half of his face, teeth bone white and long as a forearm. The jaw begins to grow, the white bone leaking out and up his face until it’s encased in a solid mask. Big, yellow eyes with pinprick pupils fill the mask’s empty sockets, staring blankly up at the sky, before suddenly snapping down and locking onto Jiji.
A cold chill runs through the other boy’s body, and he finds himself frozen at the sight of the massive, shadowy creature that stands before him. The thing turns, and opens its mouth in a low, echoing growl.