Dearie me, long time no see! Welcome back to not just another chapter, but a continuation of the omake a few chapters ago! A minor heads-up for those of you who missed one of the little snippets I put in that one as well as the following chapter's AN: this one didn't occur in the same chronological point as the main story, but some time back. I'll let you judge when the exact point they meet happens. Aside from that, I've been swamped by IRL and beta work - leading to the slow construction of this chapter - along with this one being quite long. I know, I know... I promised an M-rated chapter with Jūbei and Shirō, but it just so happens I want to publish this first!

Ergo, let's begin the mailbag... with some splattering of my private conversation with superpierce! It's decently connected to HV-S01: RKR and its rewrite, so I encourage you to read and let me know what you guys think.
Royal Freshness12345: Yeah, I wasn't proud of adding new characters all the time instead of expounding and focusing on the main ones, but that's how the canon Oda Nobuna no Yabou (and historical canon) goes. So it's more of a necessity - I hope I do it justice. Regarding the Three Calamities, it's subtly implied Shirou's machinations are what indirectly powering them back up because he makes it easier for Mystery to exist naturally in the world. And I think I've foreshadowed who the Saintess is before, no? There's no 'school', but merely a master-disciple relationship much like Jesus. (...) Regarding the Saintess, her situation will be clearer in the epilogue I've already drafted, though I guess that's still a long way away. I'll see if I can intersperse some info in future chapters.
superpierce: (...) As we know from Nasuverse canon, Mystery ebbs and flows across time and age, with its decline more related to the time (...) around the 6th century. I've peppered across my stories about how HVs are also attempting to stabilize, and if possible, rise the level of Mystery in the era they're in so the Outer and Reverse Side of the World can exist more in harmony, in contrast to the modern world where both sides automatically harm the other simply by crossing over the boundary. Britain's Texture (...) declined dangerously owing to various internal sabotage and conflict. Seeing an opportunity and safe haven abroad, the main branch relocated to Bathory's side of the family who already owned land in Hungary, resulting in Elizabeth's birth and her subsequent succession to Clan Head. Their dragon bloods are closely related in my universe. I'll spread some tidbits here and there in this latest story. (...) In historical canon, Hungarian dragons are closely related to [Thunder], while Welsh dragons with [Earth]. However, in Elizabeth's case, her mutation causes her to embody a [Blood] dragon (at least in my story).

Strangely enough with a trained person, sleeping outdoors or on the move with hard corners underneath and unrelenting elements around them was more comfortable than using a high-class inn's ultra-soft mattress. Since an early age, their senses were honed to detect the slightest danger during their rest period, and as such their bodies had adapted to sleep in a posture they could react the fastest from. Sinking down onto feathers or wool or cotton was… inefficient, to put it mildly, and those who did often reported a drowning sensation which led to, strangely, uncomfortable sleep.

Mai wasn't any different. Dozing off peacefully behind the carriage, she didn't even realize her cute face was marred by a particularly comical line of drool, as well as Tatsumi's shaking shoulders every time he looked back to check on her.

He wasn't driving particularly smoothly as well, taking advantage of Minamoto Clan's resources by flogging this expensive, technologically-advanced carriage prototype far faster than its humbler counterpart's average speed. Pulled by Mezuki off-springs who're closer in dynamic structure to a mount than a minotaur, it's also a test whether the on- and off-board suspension was good enough for a soldier's comfortable sleep.

And, indeed, it worked. Even he was surprised at how comfortable he felt, urging him to push more and more – he only hesitated when remembering how much this entire prototype costed, and Himiko would certainly make him personally pay out of his own pocket. Not a good outcome for a single dad raising twin sons.

Tatsumi reminisced on how he and Kohaku used to take walks and rides across the countryside like this, even in their first trip together owing to the distance between Owari and the Mutsu Clan compound where he introduced her to his parents and elders. While nothing extraordinary, the company made it exquisitely beautiful and scenic – at the very least, he'd like to think she thought of her time together with him the same way.

It was all too sudden.

She had the best environment he could provide, along with the best support from medics and midwives his family had. Yet, despite all their efforts, her condition continued to deteriorate after giving birth to their sons. Unsure who to blame, and certainly not knowing what to do next, he was stuck in a limbo all of a sudden.

Did Nobunaga understand his plight? Most likely.

Didn't stop her from blaming him, though.

Thing was… he wasn't sure he disagreed with her.

A part of being a martial artist was the ability to judge the body of another person. In its simplest form, it's to detect flaws to exploit through their movement and behaviour. A trick and habit drilled into him since he was young… and somehow, love was enough to blind his eyes to the most obvious and crucial thing of all.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his ineptitude.

Yes, it could be an incurable disease, only surfacing once she was weakened by childbirth. Or perhaps the children themselves were the trigger – a theory Tatsumi did not want to explore, at all. Regardless, it didn't change the fact she died right in front of him, holding his hand weakly with one palm and the other caressing their baby boys, with him unable to do anything about it.

Perhaps Shirō or Himiko could've done something if they were present, but unfortunately, they were engaged with far more important things than the life of his wife.

'No, I was just bitter…' He stopped himself from indulging in that dangerous thought any further.

After his nth loss to Shirō – the last duel being the one and only formally recognized – he had no right to speak badly about them, because… much as he disliked the idea, there were truly greater things at play than Kohaku's life. In the end, her passing was… uneventful, because she'd prepared so much so he wouldn't grieve over her excessively long.

Fat load of good it did to him.

His sons grew up not knowing their mother apart from paintings they made in their honeymoon and his dramatized recollection of her. Sincerely, in his memory, there didn't exist a bad one about Kohaku. To him, she was just that special – all the more reason he didn't regret falling in love with her at first sight.

Still, Himiko did gave him a lot of work to take his mind off things, so he's at least grateful for that. He hadn't seen Shirō since a few months ago, but that guy was supposed to be the frontman so Minamoto Clan members like him could operate freely, but also with respect and dignity. Blaming the two – or even thinking they had an ounce of guilt over her death – was simply a childish tantrum.

Though… he supposed he never really grew up from that boy who'd punch Shirō at the slightest opportunity to battle him.

As adults, they now had vastly different life, to the point they rarely interacted lately if at all. Most importantly, they differed in one particular life decision: Shirō had no issue with practicing irresponsible polygamy, while Tatsumi chose to remain single after getting widowed. Neither one was particularly right or wrong in this era they're living in, considering necessity and circumstances.

The Mutsu elders were subtly pushing him to remarry again, depressed at seeing him… depressed, though they chose not to exert further force because in the end, Kohaku had blessed them with two perfectly healthy heirs, regardless of gender, thus the clan's continuation was not under threat. The Mutsu Clan's martial arts and natural tengu abilities didn't differentiate between male or female, much like the Minamoto Clan – which was why the two so easily formed a pact and fused with each other in the Heian Period just from Yoshitsune's marriage with a Mutsu princess.

The boys grew up healthy, with no trace of their mother's feebleness in them, master every technique taught to them like fish drinking water, and generally got along well enough to finish each other's sentence and overlap their words. Unlike most sibling competition, Mutsu siblings usually bore no hard feelings after defeats to each other – after all, the clan's one sole taboo was losing to outsiders.

That routed back to the figurative chain around his body regarding his inability to go against Shirō. He lost, fair and square, and had to reinvent and improve his arts so as to defeat him next time. Mutsus were a joyously vengeful bunch, relentless in their drive to be the invincible fist of the land, regardless of what they faced.

Recently, there had been more research into hand-versus-gun techniques, though Tatsumi personally hadn't perfected them yet. Perhaps by the time his children had grown up, this would be properly codified and easily taught.

His musing was suddenly broken by a particularly sharp turn, requiring him to summon his crow-like giant wings out of his back and gave the entire carriage a shove of wind to manoeuvre it quickly. Fortunately, nothing of note broke or fell over – including the sleeping Mai.

However, he wasn't ready to call this carriage a success yet. While the way out of Mai's shinobi village was rustic as expected, since it prioritized defence than ease of trade, the highways to the capital was predictably smooth and wide. Even the gravel roads were finely crushed and properly packed to ease travel, not to mention the private brick streets they crossed – meticulously maintained, just as Himiko liked it.

She especially disliked it when he and Shirō had one of their 'fights' during they were young and destroyed a crucial road artery as collateral. The gaze that little girl, not much older than a toddler back then, produced that day still sent shivers down his spine today.

'Well… From today, I won't be alone in receiving Himiko-chan's bullying…!'

Unfortunately for Mai, she slept through much of the way, missing the devious look on the Mutsu Clan Head's face.

"Uwaaahhh…"

Since arriving in the imperial Castle, Mai hadn't been able to keep her mouth pursed into a line, constantly opening it agape in awe and shock. Silently, she's rather embarrassed at acting exactly like a country bumpkin – which she was, technically speaking – but she couldn't help herself.

It's even more jarring when she'd been into various castles herself, filled with what she thought was excess opulence, crippling corruption, and heinous atrocities. Killing VIPs and daimyōs and influential merchants constituted several of her last missions in order to be acknowledged as her twin katanas' inheritor had exposed her to them, yet the Imperial Castle was a different animal entirely.

Ordinarily, what constituted as 'precious' in Nihon's court differed from Nanban's, or even their neighbours Ming and Goryeo. Not much gold or precious metals adorned places of importance, owing to the teachings of humility and appreciating the purest aesthetics, instead of the garish decorations preferred by other cultures. Well-made potteries, blades, sculptures, etc. in which the owner could clearly appreciate the skill marks of the creator were adored, compared to the gold silk, chalices, jewelleries, precious stones, and others which Nanban merchants initially used to trade for.

But what caught Mai's breath in her throat was the perfectly tasteful combination of the two camps, joined by what she recognized as eclectic yōkai arts, crafts, and designs.

The instant she set foot into the castle proper, she could tell this place was closer to a Yōkai Realm than a Bounded Field, as was typical in the aforementioned smaller-scale residences. That, in itself, was a version of Marble Phantasm not producing the Outside World's natural phenomena, but the Reverse Side's instead – specifically, the 'logic' of yōkai and their livelihoods.

Mai had faced against several capable yōkais, but at most their Realms were no more than 10 feet wide – or most commonly known as 'Zones' instead. Higher-levelled ones were deliberately kept away from her by orders of the previous Clan Head, as she was taught only her two katanas, when used together, were able to contend with them.

Her journey here was enough to comprehend the twin swords' basic powers and how to extract some of their true potential, but certainly not enough if she had to face yōkai at the level of one of Tamamo-no-Mae's tails.

…which incidentally the owner of this building was perfectly capable of generating. All nine, to be precise. Swatting Mai dead like a fly wouldn't be too difficult.

With Tatsumi behind her, it's not like she could afford to show her nervous side. After all, this was an audition for a job not even Ai was qualified to do.

At the thought of her sister, a cloud of gloominess spread across Mai's face momentarily, though the constant sensation of killing intent quickly snapped her out of it.

Indeed, just as soon as she stepped foot in here, so too the Imperial Castle's… inhabitants noticed her.

"Don't be getting cold feet, now," Tatsumi joked, still noticing her behaviour despite her best effort to hide it. "Come on in; meet the family."

"Family?!"

The older man smirked. "What? Do you think you'll be working alone – or worse, be tasked of an area this large by yourself?"

She shook her head quickly – too quickly, perhaps. "I'm simply surprised you so readily admitted your familial relationship with everyone here. I thought your clan is supposed to be secretive?" Shuffling to match his pace, she added, "I also know there's a ton of powerful beings here – much more than your current restrained form – so stop underestimating me."

"Yes, yes." Waving his hand dismissively, he explained, "We're 'family'… but not necessarily of the same clan, to correct your misunderstanding, Mai-chan. Still, no blood relation didn't mean we couldn't be together, no?"

"…are you saying that just because you know my background?"

"We here don't particularly care about that, you know." Turning around, the sharpness in his gaze startled her. "Once you've accepted this job, lose all your ties to your family – the usual stuff. The difference is Himiko-chan's geas is much stronger than your usual contracts, so beware."

"…I don't think you should address Heika like that," Mai uttered pensively. "Can't you feel her gaze through the walls?"

"Eh… I'm used to it. Besides, she loves me, so-"

- Fwoop!

"…HIMIKO-CHAN! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

As Mai predicted, a trap door suddenly opened underneath his feet, fast and large enough he didn't even have the chance to transform and use his tengu wings to escape before it closed back up. An interesting thing to note was the verb 'open' wasn't quite what happened – it simply existed for a moment, then disappeared the next. No mechanism was visible or palpable when Mai went ahead leisurely to inspect it, silently smirking at the man's karmic misfortune.

Straightening up, she gazed upon the eerily silent and empty corridor awaiting her. No servants, no guards… not even traces of livelihood around the entrance Tatsumi had led her to. Fully knowing this was most likely a secluded entry point, she carefully proceeded forth, knowing the 'test' had begun.

Mulling on the snippets of what he'd said, she began to re-evaluate what she'd gotten herself into.

There was no doubt she wouldn't be seeing Ai again… at least on good terms. Regardless of how hard Tatsumi kicked her away the last time, even Mai herself felt the previous Clan Head's decision was rash. Perhaps this was intentional? Drive a wedge between them so as to not implicate the Sōga Clan? Certainly, that's a rational decision. Was it a favourable one, though?

…they'd have to see later.

The memory of Ai's hateful face haunted her sleep all the way to her arrival in the Imperial Castle. They'd fought before, at times with the intention to kill if ordered, but that was the first time Ai looked anywhere near serious in taking Mai's life.

…and, shamefully, Mai was ready to retaliate back then, too, if Tatsumi hadn't broken them up skilfully. In that split second of encounter, despite what she kept telling herself, Mai was prepared to snuff out her sister's life… simply because Ai kept being annoying. Such a simple reason – a far cry from Ai's glorious ambition and desire to be a great shinobi, beyond their childish squabbles.

Because it wasn't a wild hatred. It was focused and meditated, exactly how a model kunoichi should utilize any burning emotion potentially harming the mission if left unchecked. Gone was the time of pure, cold, emotionless puppets who threw themselves without care under their superiors' orders – emotions were just another weapon to be used, and such a waste if constantly kept under wraps.

That dawn, Ai was at her strongest Mai had ever known, enough to feel threatened and fear for her life despite holding both Jun and Kyo.

However, she's as far away from her sister as possible now. Tatsumi's words served both as a warning and a solace, because it meant by severing her ties to Sōga, she'd gain the Minamoto Clan's backing and protection.

Whatever backing and protection an unproven and distrusted newbie could attain, but still…

- Thump.

"Bouncy."

- Scwing!

Jun and Kyo were already drawn before Mai realized her body had instinctively reacted to the sudden utterance. Pausing to allow her conscience to match her reflex, she began expanding her senses around her, having been overwhelmed by the neo-Yōkai Realm since earlier and retreated out of necessity to avoid overclocking her own brain. It felt like she was pushing against an entire beach's worth of sand with just her feeble arms…

…before what she could feel was similar to a leviathan pushed apart the grains to encroach upon her personal space.

"Bouncy."

- Thump. Thump. Thump.

Apart from the spooky, heavy female voice, there was a noise of a massive soft spherical object being dribbled around regularly.

Mai was more nervous at her lack of Guardian Spirit than her skills. While she'd admittedly she's far from Nihon's best, at the very least, if it's unrelated to yōkais, she's confident in getting out of most confrontations alive. However, in this age, dealing with beings from the Reverse Side of the World without having a casual contract with was tantamount to suicide, regardless how physically able a person was. At the very least, one must be equipped with talismans approved and blessed by common Guardian Spirits to stand a chance.

And here she was, isolated and underequipped in what could be Nihon's most fortified place without a guide or pass.

- Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Bouncy… Bouncy…"

"…!"

Mai jumped, sucking in sharply when she felt something grazing her ankles' skin. In mid-air, she watched in sick horror when the immaculate wooden floor from earlier transformed into white inhuman hands, overlapping over each other much like how normal parquet would, slithering and simmering and scything through the area she was just standing on. Unfortunately, looking all around her in a split second, she didn't have a handless place to land, either – up, down, side-to-side; it didn't matter.

What's good was the behaviour of these eery limbs: They're not aggressive. Even the graze earlier was perhaps her overreacting than an actual threat. They simply wove and shook against each other, truly mimicking floors and ceilings and walls.

But it didn't halt the incoming dreadful noise. In fact, it felt like this phenomenon appeared because the culprit was already too close to her.

"You're not bouncy."

Even before landing, Mai twisted her body and slashed with both of her katanas.

- Twin Mystic Art: Fog-Cleaving Dance!

Furious slashes from all directions and angles, each ejecting a compressed, sharp magic energy to increase their range emanated from Jun and Kyo. Because of the unideal footing, they didn't have much power. Still, the purpose of this technique was never to fatally kill an opponent, but harm them enough to create more openings. Another alternative was a defensive application, such as what she's doing right now.

- Clack! Clack!

The sound of blades sheathed preceded the sensation of hitting impenetrable ironwood, instantly shredding Mai's palms' skin and nearly fracturing her wrist. What's projected in front of her eyes were Jun and Kyo clasped between a pair of index fingers and thumbs… before countless phantom arms covered her entire body before she could get a good look at this woman and brought her back to land gently.

As soon as this all happened, her hand-binders unwrapped, revealing a corridor back to normal. Jun and Kyo were scattered randomly beside her. Panting, she scrambled to recover them, nervous at not knowing when the next wave would come. Still, considering she escaped… no, allowed to escape that ordeal unharmed, her presumption she was still in a test held firm.

"Haa… What the hell was that?"

"That was me."

Her body whirled around instinctively once again when she felt a chilly breath near her nape. However, this time, she managed to stop her arms from swinging her twin katanas – one, she wasn't holding them properly and would've slung them away if she did; two, constantly attacking aggressively wouldn't help her job chance, she figured.

This time, she finally got a better look at the girl from earlier… when she looked down.

White.

Everything about her was white.

Mai was a typical Nihon teenager – i.e. not very tall – but this yōkai didn't look like she's past her childhood form yet, being half-a-head shorter than Mai. Her hair, flowing down like a curtain way past her entire body and onto the floor, was white. Her kimono, billowing along an invisible wind – likely pure magic energy – was white. The perfectly-lined teeth, grinning at her dangerously with two cute protruding canines, was also inhumanly white. The giant ball Mai presumed she was dribbling earlier was made of those previous countless arms huddled together into a perfectly white sphere, calmly sitting behind her and dwarfing the two girls.

However, there was some break in the monotony when they finally came face-to-face, though it didn't make the yōkai look any more friendly. On that young face, blood-red makeup was applied to her lips, framing the aforementioned row of teeth spookily, ending in two red full circles where her dimples should be on her cheeks. Cutely, there were a further five smaller circles orbiting the outer sides of each circles, matching the overall look of her multiple eyes.

…oh, yes, as was typical of some yōkais, she had more than a human's two eyes – though hers was a relatively 'normal' three. All three eyes had identical blood-red sclera with white iris, and her three pupils were clearly some sort of inherent Magic Circuit since they were shaped like a five-pointed asterisk merged with a pictogram of a human, ending each 'arm' in a bulbous circle. Her eyebrows were classically-styled in a Heian Period 'thumbprint' shape… and were also blood-red.

"Ah… H-Hello…" Mai nervously greeted.

The white-themed girl tilted her head sideways. "Are you the new maid?"

"E-Er… Y-Yeah…" Mai decided to go along with it. Anything to get her away from her and face-to-face with her employer first!

"Then, follow me. I shall take you to the Head."

She raised her dainty hand, and the gigantic hand-ball – more than triple her size – gravitated to it. She promptly began to casually dribble the ball down the hallway once again, creating that rhythmical bounce along the way and leaking out copious amount of evaporating blood every time it touched the floor. "Bouncy… Bouncy…"

- Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

They walked for a while in silent – well, relatively, because the shorter white girl kept muttering and singing her favourite words like a child – before Mai roused enough courage to start another conversation. "Er… May I know your name, esteemed one?" Taking a cautious approach was the safest since there's no doubt this girl, seemingly much younger than Mai, was actually a centuries-old yōkai, unlike Tatsumi who actually looked his age.

"Why? I do not think we shall be acquainted further than this," she spoke without facing Mai. Despite this, the kunoichi could sense the face hidden behind that thick white curtain of hair was grinning ecstatically and dangerously. "We occupy different roles in this Imperial Castle, you and I. Shall I risk you granting information when you are captured? Shall we make a geas to ensure that does not happen?"

"That… would be unnecessary, esteemed one."

"Hmm… At least you are polite. Much more so than your supposed guide," she hummed. "Speaking of which, have you seen Tatsumi-kun anywhere? This is supposed to be his job."

"He… fell into a hole in the floor," Mai sheepishly explained, before filling in the details of what's going on. "It was too quick for either one of us to react."

- Thump! Thump! Thump!

The hand-ball bounced faster and faster, still in control despite its rhythm growing erratic owing to the white-haired girl's laughter. "Ahahahaha! Serves him right!"

Glad she was at least able to break the ice at the tengu's disposal, Mai continued to query after the laughter abated. "If it has to be something related to me… then, please, Tatsumi mentioned a 'family'. Am I… still an outsider? In what position will I come in?"

"Hoo… Is that how he describes us? How interesting…" Chuckling, the ball-dribbling girl quickly added, "Not that he's wrong… Still, I am flattered."

- Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"…however, your question did imply what it should take for myself to trust you, no? Well, to put it bluntly… if you can kill one of us, then you may join," the short yōkai declared hauntingly. "We do not care much for the method; specialists are just as welcome as generalists."

Mai pursed her lips, knowing her displeasure would be transmitted well to the other party. She'd heard of this yōkai type – presumably a zashiki-warashi – was sensitive to any house's dwellers' thoughts. Still, she was at least secure this yōkai didn't seem to be a mind-reader, because Mai's reaction could easily be misunderstood.

"Do you think of me as an infant, born yesterday? Hmm?" The girl chuckled at the kunoichi's shock, before continuing, "What I said was similar to your own past… one you wish to bury and left behind by coming here, no? That, new girl, is simple to see."

"Then… the simplest way to also get in is to kill you, correct?"

Unfazed by the sudden outburst of killing intent, the white-haired girl didn't even bother turning back to face the angry Mai. "Why not? I guarantee no sabotage if you manage to do so, girl."

This time, it was a single katana – Kyo unsheathed through an iaidō from the back – which shot out even before the yōkai finished speaking. Still, her tone never wavered. "However, what Himiko shall think of you… Hmm… Bouncy…"

- Thud!

Kyo was easily caught white hand which sprouted out of nowhere, its tip lodged among the pinching five fingers.

That was perhaps Mai's fastest strike, yet it was dealt with without being seen. Pared down to the utmost basics, sacrificing everything to hone its speed and accuracy… All for naught.

"Hnngggghhh…!"

A kunoichi was trained to e signs of frustrations, because the slightest emotional fluctuations could be used against them. However, the strength required to pull out her blade forced her to groan inelegantly… to no avail. Immediately, she lashed out with a kick against the marble statue-like hand, eager to use the kick's rebound to add more pulling strength, but yet another hand grew from thin air and grabbed her thin ankle, itself not wider than the hands' little fingers… and squeezed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

In a typical castle, her scream would've echoed all the way past the outer walls and beyond the moat – such was the level of her instinctive Reinforcement to resist the crushing of her leg affecting her vocal cord – but it barely made it along this hallway before dissipating. Not that she'd know, because she's in so much pain and agony she wouldn't care.

"Now, allow me to explain that thing you desire to know the most," the yōkai's smooth, childish voice cut straight through the electrifying pain shooting up her shin bones. "Your eventual place here, girl, shall be no higher than a cockroach we cleansed this place of daily. Still, they are good at surviving, so I hope you are a resilient one."

Then, as suddenly as Mai attacked, the retaliation disappeared, leaving her heaving, sweating, and in tears over her mangled leg and chipped Kyo. The first hand's power was so great it completely bypassed a step of blade damage, which was usually bending or warping it terribly to one or more sides, and straight to turning the caught area near the tip into metal powder. "U-Ugh… Argh…"

The white-clothed yōkai bent down, but she was so short from the start her back didn't have to travel far to meet Mai eye-to-eye when the kunoichi was sitting on the floor. The black-haired girl felt a hand pulling her hair roughly with enough strength to bleed her scalp, forcing her head stationery and straight into the yōkai's five-pointed triple eyes.

"Tell me, have you figured it out yet?"

"H-Hyakki Yakō…" Mai wheezed out. "The parade… h-hasn't ended…"

"Smart girl."

The hand restraining Mai's head roughly shoved her to one side, and the yōkai happily turned back around and kept on dribbling her hand-ball. Not wanting to be left behind in this increasingly-empty space, Mai struggled to hop up on one leg owing to Jun still strapped to her back and shifting her balance off-centre from an already-compromised stance.

- Thump! Thump! Thump!

"W-Whoa!" She nearly tumbled forwards when another giant hand-ball popped into existence underneath her, carrying her along the yōkai's genteel skips. "Grhk!" When she's about to speak out her gratitude, thinking the altercation and her injury just now to be nothing more than a result of a friendly spar, one of the hands peeled away from underneath her, grabbed her wounded leg, and pierced it with its fingers. "O-OUCH!"

"Can you not take a little pain?"

"…s-some warning beforehand would be nice, thank you very much!" Mai gritted her teeth, holding back her complaint once she felt those fingers were pumping in healing Magecraft. "D-Do you treat all c-cockroaches this roughly?! Those cute animals…!"

"…well, yes."

- Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The blunt admission cut off any further rebuttal from Mai, who then quietly sat on the hand-ball while pondering on her realization just now.

The phrase 'Hyakki Yakō' had rescinded into myths and legends now, so much so festivals parodying their appearance and mannerisms were highly popular with kids nowadays. The Parade of One-Hundred Demons were the infamous storming of the Imperial Capital by a horde of yōkais rebelling against the human-yōkai pact, culminating in the epic duel between the Minamoto Clan's leaders – especially Yoritomo and Yoshitsune – along with their new yōkai allies – two of the Three Great Calamities, Tamamo-no-Mae and Shuten-dōji – against the rebel forces led by Otakemaru. Obviously, going by the current written history, the alliance faction won and the opposing leader was sealed.

However, from what Mai had sensed since the first time she stepped foot into the Imperial Castle, it appeared the group was alive and well… harboured deep within the Empress's bowels, ready to lash out at any time.

…or, at least, that was her first theory. Going by the conversation snippets she had with Tatsumi and this zashiki-warashi, the group remained all in name only. It seemed it had now become what amounted to the Empress's elite royal guards, which was coincidentally composed of those with yōkai blood in them – pure, half-breed, or far descendants – thus the name was somewhat apt.

It also explained why this white-themed yōkai in front of her looked down so severely on Mai, because she had not a sliver of yōkai heritage in her, yet wished to serve a post here. While clearly not a great inhibitor – as she was still healing and taking Mai to Himiko despite their squabble – the apathy was clearly still there.

…or was it just this yōkai's personality? Mai's not sure with these inconsistent bunch. Clearly, her knowledge regarding this and yōkais' fighting style was still lacking, resulting in the humiliating beatdown she herself instigated.

She wouldn't be an aspiring kunoichi if she couldn't swallow the pain and learn from her mistakes, however.

'Do they rank themselves with triple-digit numbers?' She pondered, remembering yōkai strength-based hierarchy. "If I may ask, what rank are you, esteemed one?"

"Senju-dōji. That is my name," the yōkai quickly replied, though still mocked, "Your flattery hurts my ears, so work on that, because Himiko-chan is much worse at it than me."

At the very least, Mai'd surmounted the first step: giving names. In this era rich of Mystery, giving out one's casual name admittedly didn't give the same control over their true name, but it's still something she could work with. "Then, Senju-dōji-sama… I assume you're near the top?"

"Would a high-ranked individual greet a new maid all the way at the entrance, little girl?" Rhetorically asking, she added, "However, your compliments are bettering by the second. Continue."

"That is just you being humble, Senju-dōji-sama," Mai continued her subtle ass-kissing even though she'd been found out. "Isn't the fact we're together like this a proof of that?"

- Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"We have arrived, Himiko-chan."

Mai quickly shut her mouth close. In front of them, where there was nothing but empty, long hallways, a plain but well-crafted sliding door simmered into existence. In her attempt to butter up Senju-dōji, she'd forgotten about the fact the Imperial Castle was a gigantic continuous Yōkai Realm, similar in level to a Marble Phantasm. In fact, if that was true, how did she survive this long inside it? Wasn't her strength and vitality supposed to be sapped just by stepping foot in this place? Or did the Empress had enough control to avoid indiscriminate effects like that?

The kunoichi swallowed in nervousness.

- Creak…

The sliding door cracked open a smidge, just enough for Mai to catch a childish feminine silhouette, not much different than Senju-dōji in front of her.

'Heika…'

Despite their similar size, Himiko's presence clearly outweighed Senju-dōji's ancient own by orders of magnitude. It was such Mai could barely summon any strength to peer into that silhouette for long, unconsciously halting her breath and cancelling her pre-planned enthusiastic greeting.

'Why on earth would she need a bodyguard…?!' She silently questioned, since her expectations formed only from Tatsumi's and Senju-dōji's cryptic words, as well as her Clan Head's emotional farewell.

No one had exactly told her what this job was, so she naturally assumed bodyguard duty. Sending her in as a double-agent and assassin was purely suicide not just for her, but also the Sōga Clan – the Minamoto Clan simply had that much strength. That's not even considering whether she'd be able to take out this now-revealed super-strong individual whom she addressed as 'Heika' – Nihon's Empress, Himiko.

The little girl must've nodded and excused them off, because Senju-dōji was already sliding the door shut gently before Mai had the chance to properly process everything. She immediately opened her mouth, eager to at least let off a proper gratitude and farewell to who was her current boss, but the hand-ball beneath her had already moved along according to Senju-dōji's departure. "W-Wait a second!"

The ephemeral door had disappeared into thin air before her voice could reach.

"Hmm…? What is wrong?" Not seeing anything untoward, Senju-dōji's pace never faltered, still walking and dribbling her ball and carrying Mai to who-knows-where. "As of today, she is your master. Do you not understand such a simple thing?"

"No, it's just rude of me not to say anything! Bring me back!"

The white yōkai nonchalantly waved her hand. "Why should I follow your orders? Have you not thought about that?" Finally pausing for a moment, she added, "I do not answer to even Himiko-chan herself. We are colleagues – I assume you have misunderstood this fact?"

Mai wrenched her leg from the hand's clutches, having finally healed. "I'd never…! No, never mind. I suppose being acknowledged in her presence is enough."

"Precisely. Do you need me to continue on listing your job?" She rhetorically asked. "Defend her with your life. If she is taken, then…"

"Alright, enough." Mai hopped down from the hand-ball, which turned out to be slightly smaller than the one Senju-dōji had been dribbling since earlier. "Senju-dōji-sama, thank you for your… hospitality." She said that last word through gritted teeth, though the yōkai seemed to enjoy the twist in expression. "I'll… retire to my quarters, if I'm allowed to."

"Good girl. Like I said before, your compliments have truly gotten better by the moment."

The two hand-balls dissipated into thin air, much like every piece of furniture Mai had seen so far, though the yōkai momentarily stayed with her – or, at least, her upper torso was, since her lower half had been slowly flaking away in hand-shaped fragments since earlier.

"This one in front of you is #002. That is the answer to your question earlier."

"Are you still hating me, Ai?"

To the various kunoichis and shinobis of Sōga, the figure of Clan Head was close enough to a parental figure owing to their numbers. Larger clans viewed the top more as a bureaucratic and administrative role for those further removed from said position – more 'respect' than 'affection' which could only come from personal closeness. Smaller bands tended to bunch together more like family than a corporation.

Ai was the same, even if she'd assumed that position herself.

Keeping quiet, she continued on signing various documents necessary for keeping the village running. Owari's increased aggression meant a lot of work just suddenly became available, and while its still-unnamed shinobi clan had been wiping up the majority, it only meant the scraps became that much more precious all of a sudden. The Sōga didn't really have the manpower to compete with the medium-sized villages for the more lucrative missions, so Ai had to 'creatively' move around the pieces available to her so the village wouldn't starve or exterminated.

Sending her sister to the Imperial Castle, too, was a part of that goal. The Empress gave them a generous compensation for the deal – as Ai soon figured out when skimming through the most recent paperwork, which her predecessor didn't even bother to hide – so, with that in mind, her brush moved fluidly and quickly for the shorter memos, and more deliberate signatures for official ones.

Ignoring the previous Clan Head's question, she ordered, "Leave us, Tokimaru."

The sight of the juvenile Ai talking with a booming authority to the now-toned boy was rather imbalanced, but precisely because of his presence, the older man chose to hold her tongue. Feeling his presence eyed down to the last cell, he watched Tokimaru bowing lightly. "By your will, Ai-sama."

As expected, he gave the previous Clan Head the best stink eye he could manage before leaving.

Internally chuckling – because doing so out loud would make Ai herself personally attack him, it felt – he repeated his question, "Are you still hating me, Ai?"

The kunoichi was far too professional and dedicated to her dream job to actually gave him the silent treatment, to be fair. At the very least, in front of others – such as prospective clients, elders, or genins – she'd talk to him properly, though in a far colder and more detached tone than her younger self. He'd like to think of it as a daughter's rebellious phase, with the two of them – plus Mai, who's no longer here – practically living together as close as family. In fact, he's confident he had a better read of the twins than their own parents, because the latter, after all, could only hold subjective opinions of the girls. He was the only one who'd ever seen both their sides: the human, normal, girly part; and the cold-blooded trained child killers he personally created.

"It's unfortunate."

"What is?" He raised his eyebrows, piqued by her choice of words.

"Because you didn't say that in past tense," she continued calmly, not looking up from her documents. "Therefore, I'd say that's true."

"As expected."

"Leave, then."

He winced for what he's about to say. "I'm afraid I can't."

"Then, I'll make you."

- Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippp!

He flickered to one side, avoiding the dimensional window chomping down on where he was earlier. While not lethal, it's clearly more of a cannon than a teleport gate – Ai literally enacting the 'throwing out' act with one of her deadliest ninjutsu – and he couldn't exit the place just yet.

For the sake of the clan, as well as this troublesome niece of his.

"So you've completed it…" he muttered, knowing he's continually playing with metaphorical flames. "Why on earth didn't you use it against Mai…? You would've been satisfied with victory, no?"

"Don't bring her up."

The documents on her table fluttered, before shredding themselves to pieces and shooting forth towards him… No, to be more precise, it was closer to a flechette storm which surrounded him in an omnidirectional sphere. It was achieved without a hand sign – even the [Space] ninjutsu earlier – because she was still holding her brush in a writing motion, though it's clear now it's just a forced ruse done to showcase her arrogance.

He had to admit, he's impressed. While the dimensional trap earlier was built into this room to ward off against intruders, it's still a difficult thing to operate without preliminary movement. The rain of sharpened papers was more akin to specific bloodline powers, yet this replica was still just as lethal as the authentic ones he knew.

"…so you truly understood my reasons," he grumbled out, wind billowing from his long sleeves and shielded him from the paper scraps after forming a spherical Bounded Field. "Your emotions and tantrums are unsightly, Ai."

"You don't think I know that?"

Still, despite the sharp words, the attacks died down… eventually. He was forced to dance around for a good dozen more seconds by a variety of ninjutsu he'd never taught Ai – ones only Clan Heads were privy too, and she only held office by about one week – before it all settled down.

"Do you think a father figure of your quality deserves forgiveness straightaway? And that's not me saying you'll get it," Ai spat out, eyes finally looking at the previous Clan Head's ragged and panting form. "You played the two of us against each other… for what? Money? Prestige? Self-satisfaction?"

"For continuation, little girl." Standing up straight, he met her hateful glare eye-to-eye with a calming one. "To ensure our clan survives this generation of turmoil. To ensure we're not overrun by those stronger than us, because both we are too weak to protect the clan ourselves. Not myself; not you; not Mai."

"…so? What does that have anything to do with your so-called excuse just now?" The change in her predecessor, nor her failure to properly hit him, didn't faze Mai in the slightest. "The other solution to that was to band together; UNITY!"

- BANG!

She slammed her table just hard enough to bend it one way and allow it to flex back – no sense in breaking things apart childishly when the reparation would come out of the village's coffers… and to an extent, Ai's own pocket. "You're no better than those we kill daily, Oji-sama – those who advocated division instead of tolerance. From where did this culture rebirth itself? I thought the Minamoto Shogunate has stamped them out centuries ago!"

"Are you seriously asking that kind of idealistic question? Pay attention to your own argument!" He harshly rebutted, continuing, "They could push forward any kind of belief they held precisely because they're strong! We're not! What do you expect me to do? Perform miracles?" Clicking his tongue, he finally let loose his deepest criticism he'd held back from them, "Even with all that, the two of you are a failure."

- BOOM!

Waiting outside, Tokimaru sighed, signalling for the renovation team to prepare themselves for another 'battle'.

"What an embarrassment you are, my descendant."

"It's Himiko-chan's fault, not mine! Stop snickering, Great Ancestor!"

Kīchi chuckled. Despite having a much more mature appearance than her, Tatsumi was still nothing more than that petulant child all those years ago in her eyes. 'Certainly much less cute than Shizuka-chan…' Shaking her head, she commented, "No, you're just eyeing up that kunoichi and let your guard down. Is she more your type than dear Kohaku-chan was? Oh, wait – they look very similar, now that I think about it, especially before the time you make her bloated."

"That's not funny," Tatsumi growled darkly, still rubbing his behind.

When the trapdoor opened, he tried his best to shoot upwards with a great flap of his wings… only to have the opening slam shut in front of his face. Preferring not to have a comically flattened skull, he chose to brake hard and turn fully so his back took the impact.

…only to feel a great electric shock once his butt touched the ceiling, sending him tumbling and rocketing down to the floor in front of his ancestor's room, landing once again on his butt. By then, Kīchi was properly laughing and rolling on the floor at the sudden appearance of her cute descendant sticking out his swollen butt and groaning childishly about it.

With her great raven wings spread lazily over her throne-like chair's back, and her posture slovenly plastered rearwards, Kīchi giggled. "That's why you won't rise up in rank, if you keep blaming other factors instead of positioning yourself into an invincible place. How many times I have to explain this, you stupid disciple?"

He grunted, finally recomposing himself enough to stand up without wincing. "Damn it… How many times I have to tell you I'm not interested in those things?!" He grumbled lowly, glancing to the woman by the side. "You can hold on to #003 as long as you want, or give it to someone else. I don't care."

"Do you think that attitude can beat Shirō-chan, our #001? The ambition of moving up places can be a good drive, as you know," she nonchalantly replied, twirling her pure white long hair which contrasted heavily with her and Tatsumi's pitch-black wing. "I can't stand sharing the same family name with you who's barely in the top 10."

"Ugh… Just stop it. I'm my own man; let me make and live out my own decision."

The gorgeous red-clad woman, her dress appearing closer to Ming's recent female trend than Nihon's own preferred style, which gave generous openings to showcase her breasts and thighs with gratuitous slits, merely chuckled sagely once again. Even when knowing this was a grandma in front of him, Tatsumi couldn't help but feel his loins flutter – yōkai inhibitions against one's own relative being weaker than the humans' morality – but he felt his heart growing cold when she sharply read his mind from his expression. "Are you thinking of something rude about me?"

"O-Of course not, Great A-Ancestor!"

"Your voice just went an octave higher, you know. Are you sure your butt is the only thing you've hurt?"

- Clap-Clap. Clap-Clap. Clap-Clap.

"Now, now, Kīchi-san, you're so hard on him," another female voice, whose weight felt just as ancient spoke from the darkness around them, accompanied by a very unusual rhythm of clapping. "Don't let eons of isolation here make you senile."

While Tatsumi had initially fallen into what was seemingly a hole with a simple booby-trapped base, in fact, when he was tumbling uselessly after getting his butt electrocuted, he passed a dimensional gate to safely transport him to the inner quarters he's familiar with midway through.

Himiko might like playing pranks, but she's only cruel to her beloved 'big brother'. The rest, like Tatsumi, had to deal with minor tricks like this.

Like mentioned before, he was instantly teleported to one of the Imperial Castle's manors he's most familiar with – his clan's own matriarch. This place was even more complicated than Mai's earlier assessment, because it's not just one advanced Yōkai Realm – it's numerous interconnected one, much like several allied tribes' domains were joined up in the geographically-illogical Reverse Side of the World, though closer to a regimented beehive than a naturally asymmetric termite colony.

To put it mildly, it was also far more lavish – humans' natural desire for opulence bleeding through strange yōkai aesthetics – though it's justified considering its inhabitants spent most of their time honing their crafts in human form instead of reverting back to their old selves. Not only was this method more efficient at battle, it enabled them to enjoy certain… pleasures their original bodies were constantly denied against. Compressing all their Conceptual Weight into a manageable size, it allowed them to temper and forge their cores constantly.

Through the dividing fog between manors, Tatsumi and Kīchi were able to make out five slitted eyes arranged circularly – two on each side of the face and one on the forehead – and a silhouette of a six-armed female figure.

"Don't butt in, Lian. It's family matter."

"Didn't we agree on helping each other when necessary? Consider this precisely that," Lian rebutted, though remained on the other side of the fog. Just like she said, there's practically nothing palpable holding them back from crossing each other's boundaries owing to the formal and personal pacts they made – only respect of privacy – and this fog merely prevented lower-classed beings from moving impudently through this veritable maze. "Tatsumi-kun's still grieving. Can you not tell, old hag?"

"How laughable! That's rich, coming from someone four eras older than me!"

Silently, Tatsumi tried to sneak away from these bickering grandmas-in-maiden-form… but his footsteps were summarily halted by different methods on each of his leg.

""Tatsumi-kun, you stay here as judge!""

'Shirō… Himiko-chan… S-Save me…!'