The old temple had fallen into ill repair. The grounds and poorly thatched roof both showed its age and neglect, but the building still stood - a testament to the care of its construction. As to the terms of its abandonment the solitary figure gave no thought, seeking instead a place of refuge from the persistent cold drizzle of an early spring storm.
The sugegasa settled on his head kept most of the rainwater out of Hagane's eyes. He hesitated only the barest moment before setting foot on the temple grounds - there was a quality to the air that set the hair on the back of his neck on end. A samurai did not show fear, and he continued on the path, geta clicking softly against the bare stone.
He had parted ways with the kunoichi two days ago. She had been a more persistent hanger-on than the demon; but at least the obakemono was a dutiful traveling companion. Ikari never felt the need to prattle on to fill the silence, unlike the woman.
All the same, he could not help but feel the slightest twinge of regret. He had grown used to having a companion at his side, and now that the luxury was stripped from him he was once again alone with his thoughts. That which once had been a comfort was now a disquieting annoyance.
Hagane pushed those thoughts aside solemnly. He had a mission, and a purpose, and he refused to be swayed by the changing tides of the government. The kunoichi clan had chosen their side in the growing conflict - as had others. Even the obakemono were taking sides ... those of them that were left.
The rain was starting to slacken, ever so slightly. Hagane looked up at the shrine thoughtfully. This was sacred ground - when he had traveled with Ikari they avoided marked temples and shrines. He had seen what holy ground did to the demon - and he had the scars to bear his witness.
Something was moving, in the tree line just on the edge of his peripheral vision. Hagane's left arm rested on the hilt of his sword, as it always did when he was on edge. He looked sharply to the side to be rewarded by nothing but overgrown foliage. He exhaled, slowly, and stepped up into the abandoned temple.
The temple itself was small, likely dedicated to a local kami of the woods or mountain. The entire room was cloaked in deep darkness and stank of something foul. Hagane drew the sleeve of his right arm across his nose, the damp soiled fabric of his kimono helping to filter out the worst of the scent.
There was no source of light and he was not certain he wanted one. This scent was of decay - it was a familiar scent, as wretched as it was. He took a step back, hoping to cleanse his breath when something in the darkness rustled.
It was his false arm that saved him. The sword came out of the darkness almost faster than he could see it, certainly faster than he could draw his own weapon. The shriek of metal sliding across metal was loud in the stillness of night, and the brief shower of sparks surprised his attacker more than himself. Hagane dropped to one knee, flinging his false arm forward to throw back his sleeve as his nudged the guard of his katana up with his thumb.
He could not see his attacker. There was so little natural light, with the moon blocked by the rainclouds that even catching the barest glimmer of light on the bared metal was nearly an impossibility. Hagane gripped tight the katana, still housed in its sheath, and closed his eyes.
Silence, darkness. Then a rustle, to his right - feet on the floor, moving faster than natural. He barely had time to draw - his attacker would not make the same mistake twice striking at his right side.
Steel met steel, Hagane driving upwards from his crouch, pushing further, higher. He did not have the strength to push aside the sword, even with the added leverage a false limb gave him, and that meant that this thing that lurked in the darkness was far more powerful than he liked.
What had he walked in to?
An abandoned shrine, a destroyed torii - something had drawn his attention as he had walked the empty road. Hagane braced the back of his blade with the palm of his left hand, and deflected the next strike, backing out of the temple itself.
At first he thought it did not work, that "it" - whatever "it" was - would not emerge. Then the shadows seemed to surge, moving out past the tattered door and following in the wake of it.
Maybe it had been human once. It moved like it was human, shuffling forward on two legs; but its body was hunched forward. Long, dark matted hair obscured its face and part of its body and the sword it held from one twisted, clawed hand was spotted with rust.
It twisted its head and made a chittering noise, tracking Hagane without seeming to see him. Hagane dropped his right arm, katana clutched tight, and drew his wakizashi with his left hand.
The drizzle had slowed into almost a faint mist. Hagane backed slowly down from the temple, weapons held at the ready, all of his attention fixed on the creature. It tracked him, chittering still before moving suddenly, rapidly forward.
It was in front of him before he had time to think, or react. Hagane tried to draw back and was once again saved by his false limb. The supernaturally strong downward stroke slammed into his shoulder, slicing down and destroying the sugegasa in one fell blow. He could feel the metal plates that were pressed into his shoulder dent with the force of the impact.
Pain shot through his torso but the limb was neither destroyed nor useless. With the creature this close he could smell the death on it, and when he slashed at it with both swords large clumps of hair fell to the ground. It shrieked in pain and darted back quickly, before Hagane could see what he had revealed.
He straightened, shrugging his right shoulder a bit to make sure the limb still sat in the socket correctly. He made to step forward and hesitated before his foot could land on the wriggling clump of hair. It moved of its own volition - underneath the dark, dirty hair was a festering clump of maggots.
Hagane swallowed the bile rising in his throat. The creature hissed at him and Edward made no retort, for he was concentrated more on whatever was coming up on the edge of his vision, moving quickly along the tree-line. Whatever it was, it had a friend - and that meant that he was outnumbered.
It would be an ignoble death, and likely those few he might even call friends would never know what happened to him. Hagane gripped his swords tighter, determined to bring down at least one of the creatures before succumbing.
The black-haired demon moved forward quickly, rusted sword swinging haphazardly. Hagane braced himself - when the creature that had been stalking him from the treeline smoothly interposed itself between them.
Its shape was slightly blocky, its fur the color of hewn stone. The creature did not look at him, instead toward the demon that had corrupted the kami's temple.
Abruptly Hagane remembered what caught his eye. The overturned statue, the head crushed in at the base of the stairs - and the other guardian komainu missing completely.
Its open mouth did not move, and the guardian spirit did not breathe. But it crouched, hunting its prey now that the demon had stepped forth from the interior of the temple. The creature had realized its mistake and was trying to circle back but the komainu would not let him lie. It leaped forward, mighty stone paw pinning the creature to the ground. Then it swung its head around and pinned Hagane with a look.
Hagane sheathed his katana, and walked toward the pinned creature. It writhed and howled under the komainu's paw, but it could not free itself. "Find your peace," Hagane murmured aloud, using his wakizashi to sever the creature's head.
The noise it made was unearthly. A great rush of power sprung forth for its body and the komainu moved, blocking Hagane from it by bowling him over completely. Surprised by this Hagane did not have the time to brace for impact, and hit his head solidly on the stone pavement.
Daylight brought Hagane to his senses. The morning had dawned misty and cool, the dampness from the rain lending an exceptionally eerie quality to the air. He sat up slowly, wincing at the pain, and then glanced around.
There was a body, crumpled and shriveled, on the ground not far from him. It was a person, a woman judging by what little remained of her kimono. The body was dessicated.
Hagane cleansed his wakizashi and sheathed it, before stripping the destroyed sugegasa off and dropping it over the face of the corpse. Fastening his swords tighter, he started down the entrance stairs to the shrine.
Restored to its proper post was the missing komainu. Hagane bowed to the statue, and continued on the path, not looking back.