Ghost of the Fog
"Let go! Please, let go!"
The woman's voice sliced through the air. The woman, Chiharu, kicked at the stranger who groped her legs and crawled up her shirt. Her fighting proved useless. The man threw her into the alleyway. She skidded across the hard ground, her kimono tearing down the side. Her hair was loose, the bun crushed. He placed her forehead against the ground.
She knew what would happen.
She was small, pretty, and utterly helpless. She was the perfect victim. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She waited for violent hands to tear her legs apart. She waited still. When she thought it would happen, it didn't.
Chiharu raised her head, looking for her assaulter. He stood drunkenly in the empty streets. His eyes were wide. "Did you hear that sound?" he slurred.
Chiharu began to stand up. Her arms trembled as she rose to a seated position. Her stomach twisted in pain. She regarded the man, ready to run. She didn't care what had distracted him in the slightly groggy night. The air was still wet and cold. She felt the chill running down the tear, tickling her flesh.
Something soared overhead. She looked up, expecting a bird. The figure drew closer, leaping down behind the man some distance away. The man followed Chiharu's gaze and turned, slowly. He noticed the approaching figure and stumbled back. He wasn't fast enough to step away from the ghostly figure.
The figure glistened and a sword swung from his side, swiping through the drunken man. He stumbled, dropping to his knees. He held his bloodied side, unable to comprehend the sudden attack. His eyes wildly searched for answers, bloodshot and glazed.
The blade swept down again, silencing the man with a long cut across the spine. He dropped easily.
The ghost, Ghost of the Fog, approached Chiharu. The man moaned as he died, far too quickly than he had expected. The ghost held out a gloved hand towards Chiharu. Chiharu took it, wondering if he wanted to use her body next. He didn't. He helped her to her feet.
Chiharu stared at him. His face was hidden behind a wicked greenish samurai mask. His hair, tied in a large pony tail, swing across his back as he walked. His clothing was like a condensed version of samurai armor. There were few metal tiles and a close-fitting black suit. He had a thin blade at his belt, opposite the sheath for his katana. She followed him.
After they walked for some time through the cold streets, the ghost stopped and turned to her. He pointed towards a building which, after a moment of staring, she realized was her home. She bowed low to him.
"Thank you."
She could barely see his dark eyes, but knew he was giving her a smile.
"You're welcome, Chiharu. Go home safely."
Chiharu gasped in surprise, stepping closer to him. She held out her hand to call him back, but he had already turned down the street, moving quickly and swiftly. She felt she had seen him before, if only in a dream.
. . .
"The Ghost of the Fog is a savior!" Masumi declared.
Kenta held his bowl of brown rice up to his lips. He paused in his eating, giving Masumi a scrutinizing look. He sat cross-legged on the ground. The seamstress, Koizumi, was stitching his general uniform. It had a gash from a run in with brigands. It was a small problem, but he didn't want to risk losing more fabric. A small rip can grow bigger much more easily than whole fabric.
Sighing, Kenta set his bowl down. "Masumi, you've finally gone insane."
Masumi shook his head, slipping his geta off. He was in regular clothing for the morning. "No. Chiharu came home last night and, well, I had been worried about her. I came back from my scouting to find the home empty. The servant girl said that Chiharu had gone to get some things and I was terrified! Had my wife gone missing?"
Kenta waved his hand, silencing Masumi. "Sit down and slow down. You are rambling. Start from the beginning."
Masumi nodded and shuffled to sit across from Kenta. He sat, cross legged, and placed his hands on his knees. "I left to do my daily tasks. Chiharu said she would remain at home and make my favorite dish. I decided to let her and so I left. When I returned I found her missing. The servant girl said she had gone to purchase a fish fresh from the shop. She didn't return by the time I arrived home. The servant began to worry."
He paused, staring at a bird that had burst from the trees. Spring had returned, bringing with it rain showers and cold nights.
Kenta urged him to continue, chewing thoughtfully on his rice.
"I went outside, ready to hunt her down. I found her stumbling towards me, her kimono torn. She stumbled to me and I held her tightly. She told me of this ghost, one who saved her from a monstrous human being. He killed him with a katana. At first I thought she had gone insane. She told me to look in the streets.
"So, I sent her home to take a bath and I ventured into the streets, only to make her happy. I found a dead body, slashed just as she had told me. I did not see the ghost but I know he exists somewhere. And he has saved us, he has rid us of a foul human being and he has saved Chiharu."
Kenta gave him a bemused smile. "You believe in a ghost you've never seen?"
"Well, yes."
Kenta scoffed, standing up. "Well, at least your wife is safe. We'll look into this fog ghost, then."
"The Ghost of the Fog… Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I suppose it does."
Wow I love how little attention a month long project gets. Yep, thanks guys.