A soft afternoon breeze swept over the quiet forest as birds chirped melodically. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, beautifully illuminating the vast variety of trees as three cloaked figures walked along the path.
"I'm so hungry," Takae complained, clutching her growling stomach. "I'm tired of eating those tiny fish you bring back whenever you go fishing, Yuriko. They're tasteless and gone in one bite."
"Well, if you're going to complain, then you can go find your own fish," Yuriko shot back. "Seeing as the brave guy here couldn't even find any game."
"It's not my fault," Izumi replied. "There just aren't that many animals I can hunt out here— not that I'm any good at it anyway."
Yuriko sighed. "Well, just hold it in then, Takae, because we're almost there."
Just as she said that, they made their way out of the canopy, the sudden sunlight forcing them to squint.
Once their eyes adjusted, they saw the village that marked their destination in the distance.
From their elevated position, the village looked ordinary—people moving about their daily routines, unaware and untroubled.
After taking in the sight for a moment, the three pulled their hoods up and began making their way toward the village.
As they passed through the wooden gate, they quietly surveyed their surroundings. Almost immediately, they began to notice people subtly withdrawing from the village center, drifting away in ones and twos.
The reaction puzzled them, but they continued forward without drawing attention to themselves.
That was when Yuriko spotted a signpost outside a small stall advertising food.
After pointing it out to the others, the three headed toward it. Yuriko stepped forward and faced the seller.
"We'd like some food, please," she said, setting a small bag of coins on the counter.
The old woman behind the stall glanced down at the coins. Then, lifting her gaze, she fixed Yuriko with a stern expression.
"Sorry," she said curtly. "I'm not too keen on serving unknown outsiders. Go somewhere else."
With that, she shut the stall window.
Yuriko stood there for a moment, stunned—then visibly irritated.
"You could've just told me that from the get-go, you old hag," she muttered, veins standing out on her forehead.
Izumi let out a tired sigh. "Let's just look somewhere else."
"Sure… I guess," Yuriko replied.
The three of them went from place to place, searching for any establishment that would accept them—but each attempt ended the same way. One refusal after another chipped away at their hope, until it felt like the entire village had closed itself off to them.
In a final attempt, they stepped into an open restaurant, expecting to be turned away just like before.
Instead, to their surprise, a waitress greeted them warmly and led them to a table.
"Welcome to the Hibiki family restaurant. My name is Miyuki Hibiki. What will you be having?" she asked, her tone polite and her expression sincere.
She looked to be around the same age as them and appeared to be the only waitress in sight, despite the presence of several customers. Her curly hair framed her light complexion, and her green eyes gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. She wore an old, tattered robe—nothing particularly striking, but well-kept enough to blend in.
"We'll have anything, as long as it's cheap," Yuriko said. "Honestly, we're grateful you even let us in. We've been turned down by just about every place since we arrived."
"Oh… that," Miyuki replied with an awkward laugh. "You see, even though this village is a major stop for travelers since it's on the main path, the people here have been shunning a lot of passersby. They've gotten… paranoid."
"Paranoid about what?" Izumi asked.
"Well," she said, lowering her voice slightly, "the villagers have started believing that some djinn are trying to secretly enter the village disguised as travelers. That's why they've begun serving only those they're familiar with."
For a moment, they sat in silence. Then Takae spoke up.
"Well… what about you then?" she asked. "How sure are you that we aren't djinn disguised as travelers?"
Miyuki chuckled at the question. "Well, if you were, then please don't hurt me."
"You seem pretty casual about the subject," Yuriko said.
"Well, being so uptight about everything just takes the fun out of life, don't you think?" she replied. "Plus, I'm sure that if something did happen, the Ashura Samurai would come to save us."
"You seem to have a lot of faith in them," Izumi said.
"Why wouldn't I?" she replied. "They've been going toe to toe with the djinn for centuries. Without them, the human realm would've been taken over a long time ago."
"I wish I could become one of them someday," she continued. "Then maybe I could help bring an end to the war."
A man seated at the table next to them scoffed.
"What makes you think you could make any difference?" he said.
He was visibly drunk as he continued, "All you ever do is talk about how great those guys are. If they were really that amazing, the war would've ended already, don't you think?"
"Mind your own business, you lousy drunk," she replied, her tone sharpening. "Go back to drinking all your problems away."
The man stiffened at her words, clearly offended. He slammed his cup down on the table and glared at her.
"You really like running that mouth of yours, don't you?" he snapped.
She didn't flinch. If anything, she looked more irritated than intimidated.
"What if I do?" she shot back. "Not that anything I say concerns you anyway."
"You brat!" he said as he stood up and started walking toward her. "I'll show you what happens to brats like you who don't know when to keep their mouths shut!"
A glass bottle was clenched tightly in his hand as he advanced.
Seeing how serious the situation had become, Izumi immediately jumped to his feet and moved to intercept him before he could reach her.
"Hey, back off, dude," he said, stepping in front of her.
"Don't tell me what to do, you brat," the man snapped.
He suddenly swung, smashing the bottle against Izumi's head. The glass shattered on impact, and a stream of blood ran down Izumi's forehead.
Yuriko and Takae leapt to their feet, rushing forward—but Izumi raised a hand, signaling them to stop.
Rage burned in his eyes as blood continued to drip down his face.
"Back off, you two," he said.
"But—" Takae started.
"No buts," he cut in. "It seems this punk is beyond reasoning."
"You think you're tough, kid," the man said, "well, I'll just put you in your place."
Izumi turned to him, calm but firm. "You know, normally I'd avoid provoking anyone—especially my senior—but you don't seem to be in the right state of mind, attacking a girl half your age."
The two lunged at each other, ready to clash—but just as they were about to start, a voice cut through.
"That's enough."
Both turned to see another man, slightly older, standing beside them.
He had appeared out of nowhere. Before they could react, he stepped between them and, in a swift motion, flicked their foreheads simultaneously.
For a moment, confusion froze them—but then sharp pain shot through their heads.
The drunk collapsed immediately, unconscious. Izumi held on for a heartbeat longer before sinking to his knees.
As his vision blurred, he whispered weakly, "What's happening to me?"
And with that, he blacked out, falling to the floor.