Demon Hunting
"We are not afraid of the dark or the monsters that may reside within it. What we are afraid of is our own blindness, which the darkness reminds us of. The monsters just give us an excuse to despise it."
December 26
The shrine was dusty and alive in its silence almost every day out of the year, a quiet beast dozing in the sunlight between a copse of trees. There were days when even the leaves seemed reluctant to stir.
But twice a year, just twice a year, that beast woke from its slumber and a grand, lively festival swept the dust and leaves from its depth and lit the musty interior aflame with chants and dances. They were the only events Shirano Village was known for in the outside world, the only things the village took pride in besides the flowering Paulownia's that were its livelihood.
Even at such a late hour when this countryside village was swathed in an impenetrable darkness, the gleaming town barely stronger than a firefly's light, he could see the vague lines of the Paulownia trees on the other side of town. But at this time of year, of course, it was impossible to see the scraggly, emaciated branches reaching into the night.
A shiver passed through him as he turned away from the village, the warm glow from the festival lights fading the deeper he went into the forest behind Shirano Shrine. The winters in this region were so unforgivingly bitter it was a wonder that the trees survived at all. He had just left the shrine's grounds but his shoes were already soaked through to his socks.
He drew the scarf tighter around his neck and mouth, doggedly trudging through the snow until all that remained of the festival were the sounds of music and drunken laughter. A sharp winter wind buffeted his face, forcing him to squint as he plodded on.
The terrain here was steep, the undergrowth oppressed by the snow slippery and knotted, and it only grew worse the further one traveled from civilization. It was unsafe to venture any further in the dark and the snow.
Mothers would forever warn their children against playing in the forests surrounding the village, especially in the snow and at night, but there were those who never listened. The forest was not the scary place they said it was, as he knew well, but even he wouldn't push his luck in the winter.
He picked through the snow until he found a familiar alcove created by a dry groove in the earth, guarded by a fallen tree. It was slightly damp and dusty, but sheltered him from the snow well enough if he curled up and pressed his back against the far wall. It was better than getting frostbite from standing in the middle of the forest all night, at any rate.
The sounds from the festival still rang in his ears. He was unsure if he could still hear them or if they were shadows of a memory, but the warmth alone was enough to relax him. During the winter these forests were so terribly silent, as if the snow had absorbed all the sounds.
He just had to wait until the festival passed without falling asleep. Sleeping out here in the middle of the winter was fatal, especially if no one came looking for you. The cold would snatch anyone's life away without remorse or grandeur.
Outsiders never understood the severity of the cold like the villagers did, even though they all had heaters just like the rest of the world. The cold was a specter that had followed them from the distant past, a villain from the times when the elements snatched away as many lives as they created. It wasn't just a nuisance to them even if hardly anyone ever froze to death anymore.
He kept his thoughts busy wondering at the smallest, most insignificant things. He thought about what he wanted to eat tomorrow, about math formulas, and about how he would avoid the outsiders for as long as possible.
It was a busy time in the middle of a dead, frozen season. Outsiders were always drawn to their village by the bright festivals it hosted and those who had moved away often visited during this time. Some of those outsiders and returnees stayed and lived here, some forever, some for a week or a month at a time.
Shirano Village knew what it was, but some seemed to think it was much more than that. Most of the outsiders would leave by springtime, probably because there were very few cherry blossom trees in Shirano. Most of the space was devoted to the Paulownia, a tree few modern city folk had ever heard about.
He didn't like hearing those people talk about the lands beyond these mountains, so he rarely left the shrine where he lived except to attend school until most of the visitors had left. It was impossible to avoid them completely, though, when he had to run errands around town now.
Come to think of it, didn't he spend more time in the forest than in town nowadays? His solitary life was starting to become ridiculous, he thought, but somehow he didn't have the heart to change it.
"I'm such a shut-in," he mumbled. A light laugh barely heavier than the air rose over the faint music from the festival. He didn't bother looking for its source.
"At least you admit it. This whole village is like that; it's trapped in a time long past."
It was such a familiar voice, such a familiar laugh, that he was never alarmed no matter where he heard it. It had been with him since he was a child, perhaps even before he knew how to speak. Hearing it never brought him anxiety or shame or anger.
"Aren't you also trapped in a time long past? Or rather, aren't you someone who 'time' has forgotten?" he mumbled into his scarf. It smelled warm, of men's cologne and home cooked meals, of a life in a house somewhere in the village below.
"You're only ever so cheeky with me," the voice mused belatedly, a hint of amused disappointment touching at the edges of it. "Why are you out here, anyway? It's December; you'll freeze to death."
He pushed himself further into the alcove and kicked his shoes off, warming his feet the best he could with the thick gloves on his hands. Fire coursed just beneath his skin, painfully hot and sharp. If he had any feeling in his hands at all, he would have been able to tell that his feet were as cold as the snow.
"It's not like I have a choice. They don't want me around and I don't have anywhere else to go if I want to avoid all the tourists here for the festival," he said with a frown at how his words trembled and quivered with the cold. "Besides, I shouldn't have to tell you. You should know already; it's the same every year."
"Want me to come with you, Tsukasa?" Despite how cold he realized his body had become, he almost wanted to laugh at the proposal. He held it in, reasoning that it would expend too much energy. "No one has to know, right? It's the night of a festival, too, which means it's possible for me."
As nice as it would be to have someone to enjoy the festival with for once, or at least have someone to walk through town with him, he knew it was a bad idea. This was a small village where everyone was neighbors and intimately acquainted. They all knew full well that Tsukasa never spoke with anyone he was not required to speak to, and certainly not with outsiders.
"If you want, you can go. There are tons of visitors tonight, so no one will notice," he offered despite the fact that his friend had never once shown himself in the village in all the years he'd known him. "I'd like it if you stayed, though. I don't want to fall asleep."
Snow had started falling in a soft, lazy current no stronger than a child's breath. When he woke in the morning it will have covered every surface in the village in a blanket of white and blue, from the naked branches of the Paulownias to the red gates leading up to the shrine. It was winter break, so thankfully he could stay home and didn't have to risk descending down the long flight of stone stairs leading to the village.
"Tsukasa?"
"Yeah?" He blinked blearily, nibbling at his dried and cracked lips.
"This isn't a good winter; everyone's been saying that. So, you shouldn't visit that valley anymore until the snow melts, okay?" The wind started howling into the night, slicing through the tress and obscuring the voice speaking to him, but he could hear the tightness in it regardless.
"But…that's…boring…" he mumbled, unable to stop the tremors attacking his body. He reluctantly reached for his shoes, now ice cold, and pulled them on. "It should be fine as long as it's during the day."
There was no response from his friend. For all he knew, he could have left entirely and Tsukasa would never be able to tell no matter how hard he strained his ears. The appearance of sneakers and dark pant legs just off to the side of his little hideaway told him that his friend hadn't gone far, after all.
"It's a bad winter," he repeated, his voice forever airy even when his physical body was within sight. Creating almost no noise, he leaned down to peer at the human boy huddled against a wall of frozen earth and reached out to tug at his sleeve. "Come, you'll freeze to death."
"Asake, will you come with me after all? To town, I mean," he shivered as he crawled his way out, painfully stretching his limbs as his friend ushered him down the mountain. The snowfall was light, at least; it would yield a few centimeters, no more than five, by morning.
He asked expecting a flutter of a chuckle and a polite refusal of "I'm sorry, I can't after all", so when Asake accepted after a long moment's pause he stumbled and nearly fell down a particularly sharp incline in the earth. He considered the possibility that his friend was joking and would retract his words any minute now, but he never did.
It was unlike Asake to joke, even if he did tease sometimes, but he had never stepped foot in the village for as long as Tsukasa had known him. He always hovered at the very edge of the forest, his feet just brushing against the road, but he never stepped out from the cover of the trees.
The village was a place for humans, he said, and the forest was a place for beasts and spirits.
If his face wasn't so frozen, he would have smiled as he considered where to go with his friend. It might be safer if they wandered around the Paulownia fields instead of in town, since most of the villagers abandoned the trees for the night in favor of the festival held at the shrine. There were no crowds and so few lights that it would be hard to distinguish two people wandering around if anyone saw them at all.
"Thanks, Asake, I mean it," he said over his shoulder as he shuffled down the last steep incline that leveled out onto the stone paved road just outside the shrine's gates. Snow tumbled off his sneakers as he stomped his feet and glanced about, eyes lingering on the warm red and golden hues emanating from the shrine above. Shaking his head, he motioned for his friend to step out onto the road from where he stood wrapped in shadows and falling snow. "It's clear. There's no one around now."
One side of Asake's face was always shrouded by his hair, which was a dark and unrelenting brown. Tsukasa had never seen all of him, as silly as it sounded, until that night when Asake swept aside those locks of hair and tucked them behind his ear. They fell back into place almost immediately to obscure one eye, but the moment had passed and Tsukasa had seen it happen.
Asuke stepped out onto the road, his feet as silent as the falling snow.
- Well, Shiki are going to interfere in this little village's life soon enough...I'm not sure if it will be entirely original Shiki or Sunako and Seishin trying to redo Sotoba in another village. What do you think?
- I really wanted to try my hand at this universe despite not regularly writing vampire stuff. But as usual I'm not so good (or confident) at characterizing canon characters well. This is mostly an original cast, unless I decide to drag some of the surviving canon characters into it.
That being said, I'll be taking any suggestions for secondary characters (villagers/Shiki/outsiders) if anyone wants to volunteer some.