Ereshan screamed. Loud. Undignified. The six-eyed figure hovered inches above the ground, cloaked in rippling shadow, its many pupils blinking out of sync.
Mizuchi groaned, rubbing his temple. "I just wanted hot springs and grilled carp, but noooo, we had to fight dragon koi and then walk into a horror alley."
He stretched, joints cracking like firecrackers. "Fine. Time for big boy mode."
With a dramatic sigh, Mizuchi stepped forward and rolled his neck like an overworked salaryman. His aura burst—water spun around him in a swirling storm, forming a massive serpent behind his back, eyes glowing like moonlight on the River of Souls. "You asked for this, googly eyes," he said.
Mizuchi charged, launching a torrent of spirit-infused water that tore through the alley like a tidal spear. The wave struck—but the six-eyed figure didn't even blink.
It raised one finger. Snap. A pulse of black energy shattered the serpent in mid-air. Mizuchi stopped short—confused. Then—CRACK.
He spun midair like a paper doll, then froze. His neck was almost turned all the way around—but not quite. His body hovered, stiff, twitching. "Mmf—this is… bad," Mizuchi gurgled.
"Mizuchi?!" Ereshan gasped.
Then Mizuchi's whole form collapsed into a gelatinous puddle with his eyes floating awkwardly on top. He wasn't dead, but he was very… wobbly.
"Guys," said blob-Mizuchi, voice echoing like it came from a toilet bowl. "I can still talk. But I'm ninety percent water now. And extremely not okay."
Kiku raised an eyebrow. "That's… kind of hot."
"NOT THE TIME," Ereshan shrieked.
Hajime, swords already drawn, narrowed his eyes at the six-eyed menace. "Alright, freak. You just made this personal."
Kiku grinned, already flipping into a ready stance beside him. "Guess it's time for your fifteenth round, huh?"
"Make it sixteenth," Hajime muttered. "I'm counting this as foreplay."
Ereshan buried his face in his hands. "WHY ARE YOU BOTH LIKE THIS?!"
Ereshan shouted, half-hiding behind a broken lamp post. "Mizuchi's a... puddle! We need a mop! A sacred mop!"
Blob-Mizuchi gurgled. "If you touch me with a mop I'll haunt your laundry for life."
Meanwhile, Hajime didn't hesitate. His twin blades hissed out of their scabbards, slicing the air with a sharp shing! sound. "Kiku. Flank."
Kiku, still in her tank top, barefoot, wild-eyed, and radiating feral seduction, cracked her knuckles. "Mmm... I love it when you go serious."
"Save that love for the corpse."
"Oh, I'll save something," she purred.
And they were off. Kiku zipped left, spinning low, her blade catching light as she lunged for the six-eyed figure's side. Hajime went straight down the center like a missile, blades crisscrossing in a deadly X aimed for its chest.
The shadow-being moved unnaturally fast—splitting into afterimages as it dodged Kiku and Hajime's dual strike with ease.
Ereshan groaned from the sidelines, scooping what remained of Mizuchi into his cloak like gelatin soup. "This is fine. Totally fine. I love fighting cursed shadows in yokai towns while my best friend is a smoothie."
"I can hear you," Mizuchi oozed. "Also… someone please get me a straw."
Back in the melee, the six-eyed horror retaliated—launching razor-thin bands of shadow like slicing ribbons. One nicked Hajime's cheek. Blood. Real. Sharp.
He licked it. "Ohhh... Now I'm really pissed."
Kiku giggled, dodging another strike by bending backward into a stretch that had Ereshan blushing from thirty meters away.
"Careful," Hajime growled, spinning into a blade dance that pushed the monster back. "Don't make me forget who we're fighting."
"Like I'm letting her have all your attention?" Kiku cooed.
Another explosion of spiritual power. Together, they launched a perfectly synced combo—Kiku's blade drawing blood across two of the eyes while Hajime's twin blades danced in, striking the core—BOOM.
The six-eyed entity staggered back, hissing, limbs twisting into unnatural angles. One eye cracked. Then another. "YOUUUU… WILL NOT ESCAPE…"
Blob-Mizuchi gurgled again. "Sick burn. Very original."
Ereshan shouted, "Please stop taunting the shadow-thing while liquefied!"
Kiku spun one last time, landing beside Hajime, both blades crossed. "Ready for that sixteenth round?" she purred.
"After we mop up Googly-Eyes and put Mizuchi in a teacup," Hajime said.
The air trembled with tension. Shattered lantern light flickered off splinters and steel, while the six-eyed horror writhed in the debris of the town square.
Kiku twirled her blade once, resting it on her shoulder, panting with excitement. Hajime rolled his neck, twin blades dripping shadow-ichor, ready to leap back in. But then—Swoosh—CLANG.
A flurry of kunai embedded into the cobblestones between them and the creature. Sharp, precise… familiar.
Hajime's expression twisted. "Aya…"
From the broken roof above, she stood—bathed in moonlight like a painted ghost. Her eyes burned with a different fire; part hatred, part longing, mostly annoyance.
She landed gracefully, weapons already drawn. Her twin daggers reflected more than steel—they carried memory, betrayal, and unresolved emotion.
"Are you done playing with shadows and strays?" Aya said, brushing her long bangs aside. "I came to see you, Hajime, not watch a three-way sword dance with a feral shrine girl and a walking fashion disaster."
Kiku blinked. "Who are you calling—?"
Hajime exhaled. "Aya, not now. This thing—"
"I don't care what it is," she snapped, casually flicking a dagger toward the six-eyed figure, grazing one of its eyes. "If it's in my way, I'll remove it."
The creature screeched in fury as another eye cracked. Aya turned her gaze back to Hajime. "You owe me an explanation. And maybe a few broken ribs."
Hajime muttered, "You always did pick the worst timing."
Kiku growled, half amused, half jealous. "Hey. Ex-girlfriends don't get to steal kill credits. Get in line."
Aya didn't even look at her. "And you're what? His emotional support raccoon?"
"Ohhh, you want round two with me?" Kiku's grip on her sword tightened.
Ereshan, now hiding behind a mailbox, groaned. "This is worse than when Mizuchi exploded and we had to put him in a teacup."
"Still here!" Mizuchi's liquid voice whined from the teacup.
The six-eyed figure, momentarily ignored, hissed again, its form swelling unnaturally—limbs mutating, bones cracking.
Hajime rolled his eyes and stepped between Aya and Kiku. "Save the drama, girls. We'll settle your knife-measuring contest after we kill the thing trying to eat our souls."
Kiku winked. "Only if you promise to 'measure' mine later."
Aya cracked her neck. "I'll kill the monster, then you. Deal?"
"Everyone just focus!" Ereshan shouted. "The death god noodle monster is mutating again!"
Indeed, the creature roared—six eyes became twelve. A second head began to form from its shoulder.
Aya launched forward. "After I stab you, Hajime…"
"Yeah, yeah." Hajime sighed and lunged in. "You can have the left eye."
Kiku smirked. "Then the right one's mine."
Their blades clashed like thunder. The six-eyed figure laughed—no voice, just a horrible echo that made even the lanterns above flicker in fear. But then… something cracked.
Mizuchi stood, breathing heavily, eyes locked on the creature as a fissure split its chest.
"Did we kill it…?" Ereshan asked.
"No," Hajime muttered. "We woke it up."
With a sickening sound, like silk tearing and bones shifting, the six-eyed monster's skin began to peel. One by one, the false limbs fell off, hissing into black smoke. A cocoon of shadows unraveled, revealing within—A tall, radiant figure.
He stepped forward, his hair like ink spilling through water, face unnaturally flawless, body wrapped in elegant robes made of threads of moonlight. His eyes, now just two, glowed silver. Calm. Deadly.
Aya blinked. "Wait… why is he… kinda… hot?"
Kiku narrowed her eyes, scoffing. "Tch. Horny runs in the family, huh?"
Aya glared. "What did you say?!"
"I said," Kiku leaned forward, whispering just loud enough for everyone to hear, "even your katana is blushing."
Ereshan, Mizuchi, even Hajime—despite his usual smugness—all collectively groaned.
"Can we not do this now?!" Mizuchi yelled, still wincing from his cracked neck. "What the hell is he?!"
The man—now fully revealed—smiled gently. "I am Aori. The One That Remains. The husk you fought was simply the shell of my slumber."
"You mean we've been fighting a damn egg?" Ereshan shouted.
Aori raised a hand, vines of shadow forming around his fingers. "Now that I'm awake… Shall we begin anew?"
Hajime stepped forward, his twin blades dragging along the ground with a growl of steel. "That's enough of your poetic crap," he snapped, pointing his blade at Aori. "Touch her and I'll carve your name into the ground."
Aya raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Calling me your daughter now? How noble. Still doesn't erase the fact you left me and mom behind."
Aori, unbothered, simply smiled. "Ah. The beauty of family. Reunions always come with a touch of flame."
Kiku, ever the chaos catalyst, clapped mockingly. "Aww, how sweet! Father and daughter bonding through trauma. Now kiss and make up!"
Both Aya and Hajime: "What?!"
Kiku kept going, smirking as she leaned against a cracked statue. "Honestly, you two are hilarious. Father blaming the daughter, daughter blaming the father—yet both of you have the same taste in wild, dangerous types." She winks. "Seems I'm just everyone's favorite flavor of mistake."
Aya scowled. "You really want me to slice that smug mouth off?"
Hajime groaned. "Not now, not here…"
Ereshan, already exhausted: "Do any of you want to talk about the glowing god-man standing right there?"
Mizuchi just raised an eyebrow. "Can we all agree that this family needs… like… twelve therapists?"
Aori, still calm, chuckled softly. "Ah… children. Always louder than war."