Chapter One: Rumor

The teahouse was a grand old building that overlooked the river and in summer, the sun hung so low over the water it turned the surface a bright, fiery gold. Legend said it was fed on the flow of dragon's blood. Its current was lively, fast – prone to flooding. The dragon had been a wind spirit shot down from the sky by the arrow of a warrior who cursed it to remain in the valley for which it sank. Many of the townsfolk still feared venturing into its watery grave for fear of drowning. But on this evening, the river was as smooth as glass and the ferryboats cast off from the banks, allowing the patrons of the inn to watch their progress from the cool shade of the pavilion. There, young girls in white silk served tea from porcelain pitchers.

One such girl, Hatsu, stood silent as she gazed across the water. The day had been long and the work hard, but it would be several more hours before she was relieved of her post. Time moved at a standstill, so much so, she found herself lost in the reeds, watching fireflies drift in the dusk. It was a pity. Fireworks had been the main topic of discussion among the patrons. A demonstration was to occur in the town square at sundown, yet Hatsu knew the proprietor of the inn would never excuse her on account of a few "annoying whiz bangers." The moment the thought entered her mind, Hatsu sighed, wishing she were back home where the days were her own. Being the youngest server was not without its shortcomings.

"You! Girl! More tea," an old man barked. He tapped his ceramic mug on the table, impatient.

Startled, Hatsu moved to refill his cup.

"Is it customary at this inn for a man to track down his own tea service?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir," said Hatsu, flustered. "It won't happen again, sir."

The man had been sitting in the corner of the pavilion for most of the afternoon, waiting. The heat had soured his mood. Normally polite and patient, he scowled at the table as she returned his cup.

"Where are the others?" She asked him.

"What?"

Hatsu tried again. "I said, where are the others? It's unusual for you to sit here alone." She eyed the monk: his tanned skin, his watery-gray eyes, his down-turned mouth. He reminded her of a frog.

He frowned.

"What?"

"Oh, never mind."

Hatsu turned away just as her sister appeared.

"There you are!" said Himiko in a rush, wearing a slightly harried expression. "Where have you been? Mameha has been looking everywhere for you!"

Himiko was a few years older than Hatsu and comelier in comparison. She had inherited their mother's delicate frame and wide-set eyes, their father's proud cheekbones. She was dressed in a silvery taupe gown that marked her as the hostess of the tearoom. "You can't just stand around, Hatsumi. You have to attend to the guests. Politely," she added with a sharp look when Hatsu protested.

"But it's so hot outside," she complained, "and no one is paying attention to me anyway!"

"They shouldn't have to. You're the help!"

Hatsu felt a sting in her chest and looked away. It was the beginning of an old argument.

"Come on. You're not a child anymore," said Himiko.

"And you're not my mother," said Hatsu in kind.

Hatsu hated it when her sister got like this. It made her feel small and incapable. Where Himiko excelled, Hatsu struggled to catch up. Even in this, she had depended on her sister's good graces to land a position at the prestigious inn. On her own, she was nothing more than a nuisance.

Himiko straightened, her gaze turning cold.

"Mameha took you in under my recommendation." Grabbing her by the arm, Himiko dragged Hatsu away from the veranda to talk in private behind a potted fern. "She can just as easily take you out. Do you have any idea how many families would jump at the chance to have their daughters work for the Gojon Rose? It's safe, it's respectable, it's well-paid. You should be thankful."

"I am," said Hatsu.

"No, you're not," said Himiko. "You're still wiling away in daydreams! When will you learn that the world's not a fairytale?" As the words left her mouth, Himiko gasped, realizing their effect on Hatsu. The younger girl shied away as if she had been struck across the face.

"Forgive me," said Himiko, releasing her. "I…I don't know what's come over me. It must be the heat."

Hatsu retracted from her sister. Placing the carafe on the ledge of the veranda, she cast her gaze across the water once more, wishing to be anywhere but there. Her body burned with the thought, making her dizzy.

The Gojon Rose had been her home for six weeks now. It was the closest thing to a school she'd ever experienced, and she was hired alongside five other girls who all hailed from the same village. The only stipulation for their employment was absolute obedience. That and a gentle face for which Hatsu was coached severely by her sister to keep a soft smile at all times. Whatever you do, don't scowl. The guests want a pretty face, Himiko had explained. On the morning of her enlistment, Hatsu arrived by rickshaw dressed in her best silks with hair combed and pinned away from her face. The matron of the teahouse, Lady Mameha Gojohara, a woman of iron will and a weathered look, entered the kitchen in a sumptuous gown of red silk. She was the daughter of a government official, a widow who had turned her misfortune into a profitable estate. No worthwhile business was conducted unless done so at the Gojon Rose.

Hatsu had known of the establishment, but the woman who owned it had remained a mystery until now. She was a hawkish woman with deep lines around her eyes and lips and a mole on the bridge of her nose. She chewed fresh mint that foamed at the corners of her mouth, but her teeth and gums were stained a terrible brackish color. Perfume trailed her too wherever she went, but Hatsu thought it was a foul smell. The smell of rotting wood or musty rugs; old and decaying.

At first, Hatsu didn't know what to make of her.

All of you will devote yourselves to the service of our guests, she had said, eyeing each of them with her cold, dark gaze. Hatsu remembered feeling very uncomfortable. Mameha studied them like one might study hogs at a market, deciding which to fatten up and which to cull. She had asked each of the girls to show their teeth, their hair, their nails, making comments to the housekeeper all the while.

This one's too thin. Parasites, no doubt, said Mameha. Give her wormwood and see to it she eats barley at every meal. Her figure should be as plump as a pork bun.

Yes, ma'am.

The lady carried on.

This one's hair is ruined by the sun. Trim it at the scalp and have the hairdresser fashion her a wig. When the girl clutched her hair, Mameha addressed her directly. You will refrain from going outside until your skin brightens. Keep yourself confined in the house at all times. Your face should be as white as snow. Your hair as black as ink.

Yes, ma'am.

The longer she scrutinized, the more tense the girls became. With a loud tut, she shook her head.

Send this one home, Mameha commanded the housekeeper. Her face is too pocked. There's no place for her here.

No, please! The girl protested. Please reconsider, ma'am!

My dear, we are in the business of selling perfection. I cannot have a scarred face attending to the guests. There's nothing to be done.

But I can cook! I can clean! She insisted. Please reconsider, ma'am.

The girl clasped her hands together and prostrated in front of the old woman. Hatsu thought she was beautiful, the scars for which the lady pointed out a mere dusting of freckles across her cheeks. She was older than the other girls with long, dark hair braided into a fishtail that reached her lower back. The pattern on her blue tunic indicated she was the daughter of a fisherman. Mameha took all of this in with an inscrutable look.

You wish to work that badly? she asked at last.

Yes.

What's your name?

Suiko, ma'am.

Suiko…Lady Mameha paused, casting her gaze down the girl's figure with pursed lips. I have something special in mind for you, but we'll discuss that later. Suzan, take her upstairs.

Yes, ma'am.

When the lady approached Hatsu.

My, you're a strange one. Look at me, she ordered.

Feeling a tightness in her stomach, Hatsu obeyed the woman and lifted her gaze. The smile had long since faded from her lips and her heart was a battle drum in her chest, but all she could do was gape as the matron studied her face.

So, you're Himiko Anyu's little sister. You two look nothing alike. Her face grew grim. How old are you?

Ten, said Hatsu.

In this house, you will address me as ma'am or madam, said Mameha harshly.

Yes ma'am!

Good. That's better. You are young, Mameha clasped her chin, angling her face from side to side, but you have good genes. If you turn out half as well as your sister…the woman didn't finish her thought. She turned to the housekeeper again. Have this one fitted for robes. She'll start work in the pavilion.

It was then that the other girls glanced at her sharply, sizing her up with evident confusion.

Hatsu caved into herself.

B-but ma'am, what about her apprenticeship? The housekeeper protested, her eyes flashing with surprise. She must train in the kitchen first! She hasn't had an education.

Oh, she'll have an education. Lady Mameha replied drolly. I'm considering her for Himiko's sake, but she'll have to earn her keep on her own. Starting tomorrow, you will join the other servers in the pavilion. Disappoint me and you'll be sent home.

Thus began Hatsu's new life as the youngest, greenest server in the tea pavilion. She had quite effectively been thrown to the wolves, but Himiko's constant presence was her greatest lifesaver. At first, Hatsu was intrigued. Instead of the open fields of her home, she explored the colorful rooms of the inn, taking in the splendor of a world that was so far away from her own. And for a while she enjoyed the work which, when done under the warm glow of candlelight, with fresh linens and the serving of tea in fine porcelain dishes to guests who wore equally fine clothing, and abundant food in the kitchen, seemed romantically beautiful. At times, she could even picture herself living at court with all the other lords and ladies in the capital. She could believe she was in a fairytale.

"Look. This is an adjustment, I know. But you have to shape up. This is a job, and our family depends on your income. You're old enough to shoulder some of the burden now."

Hatsu faltered. The guilt weighed her down with a fresh, new gravity she had never experienced before. Except when their mother fell ill and left the household management to Himiko, or when their father lost a shipment of rice in the flood. The river took just as much as it gave, making life on its banks difficult. Hatsu was no stranger to hardship.

"I promise you it will get better in time, but you have to listen and pay attention to everything Mameha says." Himiko implored her. "I can't do this all on my own."

Hatsu gritted her teeth.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright," Himiko smiled gently, "that's better."

"Miss Anyu, there are more guests who wish to be seated," a porter announced from the garden. "They are eager to be out of the sun."

"Ah, coming!" Himiko replied. "Hatsumi, do me a favor and see to these gentlemen. Make sure they're tended to, alright?"

Hatsu glanced past her sister. She recognized them immediately as companions of the frog monk.

She cringed. "Do I have to?"

Her sister glared.

"Kidding! Just kidding!"

Hatsu straightened her kimono, running her hand across the stiff brocade of her sash. The carafe had warmed by now, but it was still heavy with the inn's proprietary blend of steeped herbs. Hefting it in her hands, she walked slowly along the banister.

Three monks entered the terrace dressed in robes of sage green: two men and a novice. Their faces were flushed and sweaty, and they were wearing white headscarves to protect their heads from the sun. Hatsu recognized the two older men, but the boy was new.

"Something miraculous has happened–!"

"Word of it has traveled down from the mountains–!"

"We've only just received word of it this morning!"

"It delayed our journey, master. Otherwise, we would have gotten here much sooner," said the youngest and handsomest. He was a boy from a neighboring village, cut wide in the chest with a face that looked perfectly chastened. Hatsu filled his cup first as he seemed the most deserving of a cool drink. He had been burdened with carrying all of their effects.

The eldest monk peered at him closely.

"What is it, son?"

"A shrine," the boy whispered. "The mountain folk claim it has materialized from the mist, clear as day."

"Thrice the size of a castle –"

"With seven pagodas crowned in jade."

"A beacon."

"It comes and goes like an apparition, never in the same spot twice," said the boy. "The people of the mountain believe it's home to a deity."

A hush settled over the pavilion.

"And…you believe these claims?" The old monk cut his gaze to Hatsu who had remained at their table in a trance. Straightening, she maneuvered by the other two, filling their cups with tea. "You forget the summer heat turns people's minds to fancy. Mirages are quite common this time of year."

His eyes trailed Hatsu.

"No, master. This was no mirage. Believe me, I was just as skeptical as you were it not for catching a glimpse of it myself!"

The monk glanced at the other two.

"Apo speaks the truth, sir."

"We can confirm his claims."

Intrigued, he tucked his arms into the sleeves of his robe and leaned forward.

"What exactly did you see, Apo?"

To this, everyone at the table leaned in, including Hatsu who spilled a puddle of tea from her carafe.

"It was nestled at the mouth of a waterfall. A red gate with ancient markings so old they were nearly faded. It appeared for a second, but it was long enough for me to see." The boy's eyes grew misty. "It was the image of an eye with six wings. It's her, Master Sho. The divine blessing."

Hatsu gasped.

"Tanasuya!" she whispered in awe.

The boy looked at her curiously. "You know the legend, miss?"

Hatsu nodded. "She's a spirit of mercy."

Apo lifted his brows, a handsome smile spreading across his face.

"Very good," he praised her. "The most powerful and benevolent of her kind. Did you know? Her favor can save entire regions from calamity."

Hatsu's imagination took over, producing a vision of a beautiful young woman with long, flowing hair and a kind face. Her likeness was woven in the tapestry that adorned the nursery back home, a shrine maiden wreathed in beams of golden light.

"Apo," said the monk almost reproachfully, "you're forgetting a key point to her story. Tanasuya only appears where misfortune gathers. Her presence strikes fear in those who know what she truly heralds: a catastrophe."

One of the monks leaned back, aghast.

"Good heavens!"

The other shared a cautious glance with Apo.

"What do you mean, master?" He asked.

By now, Hatsu's presence had worn itself out. The old master eyed her with all the bearing of an unimpressed frog.

"Enough loitering, child," he barked. "Bring us something cool to eat."

"And something strong to drink," added the other dazedly.

Feeling irritated for being dismissed, Hatsu dropped her shoulders and walked away. She passed one of the pillars and hid behind it.

Master Sho cast his gaze across the terrace, shooting a disapproving glance to anyone who remained curious by the boy's strange remarks. Quickly, the sound of shamisen and flutes filled the air again, leaving the monk to his companions.

"There have been whispers in the air…rumors of a war taking place in the shadows," he said quietly. "A force capable of leaving terrible chaos in its path. If her shrine has indeed appeared as you claim, then we ought to exercise caution. Evil is among us."

At his words, a strange wind whipped through the pavilion just then. It cut across the terrace, lashing at the drapes, and causing several guests to gasp from fright. Another serving girl rushed to catch a vase of flowers before it fell from the banister, but the pot smashed to the floor. Hatsu wasn't paying attention to the girl or the flowers or the guests. Her eyes were trained on a large river hawk with wings so dark they nearly blended into the shadows. Or, at least, she thought it was a hawk. In the lamplight, it was shaped like a bird but as it took to the sky it morphed into something monstrous.

"Ah. So, you can see."

Warm breath curled at the nape of her neck, causing the little hairs to stand on end.

Hatsu froze.

In the furthest corner of the pavilion, next to the stone hearth where the lamplight was reduced to a dull red haze, sat a figure. His outline was barely discernible, but he was leaning over his table in an idle fashion. How long he had been sitting there was a mystery. Hatsu did not dare lift her gaze further than the crooked slant of his mouth. Every instinct told her not to move.

"You saw it, didn't you?"

Swallowing, Hatsu looked up. "I…I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

His red eyes filled with amusement as she stuttered over the polite address.

"Don't be shy. Come," he beckoned her. "Pour me some tea. I am thirsty."

Hatsu cast her gaze around the room, concerned that no one else appeared to be as affected by his sudden presence as she was. Bloodlust permeated the air, rolling off of him in dark waves. And yet, he sat there perfectly calm and poised, chin resting against the back of his hand.

His cup was dragged across the table. Hatsu lifted her carafe and began to pour, frightened that if so much as a single drop spilled, he would lash out at her.

"Have you always been able to see? Your curse energy is strong. Shame you're playing puppet to your sibling. You'd make a fine sorcerer." His gaze lingered on her face. "In time."

Hatsu kept her fear hidden. She did not like knowing this man was privy to her conversation with her sister. She hazarded a glance at his face and was shocked to find it inked with black markings down his cheeks. But even more so to find a second pair of eyes that were trained solely on her.

Hatsu swallowed. "You are…not human," she said.

His grin widened. "Not entirely."

She returned his cup, placing it carefully in the spot before him.

"What's your name?" He asked her.

"Hatsumi…sir."

"You have a lot of hatred in you for one so young, Hatsumi. That rage will attract misfortune if you don't learn to control it. I could help you."

"I've been watching you all afternoon. You can see things, can't you? In the water. Just below the surface. There's an ancient curse that inhabits this river, did you know? A very powerful one," he said, pausing to take a sip of his tea. Hatsu watched as he downed the whole thing in one gulp, drawing his lips back in a snarl as if she fed him poison. Or perhaps he had a sore throat. His voice was hoarse. "But something has drawn it away." He pointed beyond the veranda. "Is it not strange how calm the water is? It's become stagnant."

"You mean the dragon?" Hatsu asked despite herself. She was burning with curiosity. This man was evidently dangerous, but his talk of curses caught her attention. "Where has it gone?"

The stranger rubbed his wrists. For the first time, she noticed they were badly swollen. Twin bands of black ink circled his wrists, but they looked heavily bruised and purple. He had a strange look on his face that was a mix of annoyance and intrigue.

"I believe a mysterious shrine has something to do with it," he said indolently. "Perhaps this…"

"Tanasuya," Hatsu supplied.

"Yes," he nodded, mulling the name like one might mull the flavors of wine, "Perhaps this…Tanasuya…has exorcized it already. If she has, she's quite powerful."

"She's the strongest blessing. A favor from the gods."

"Is she?" He eyed her closely. "You're an awfully good girl. You sure don't want to play with me?"

Hatsu withdrew from him warily.

"Can I bring you something from the kitchen? A fritter perhaps?"

The man considered her.

"Bring me fire. A single flame will do. This inn is old and brittle, the timber bone dry." He smiled at her, but it did little to soften the intensity of his gaze. "Shall I burn it for you?"

Hatsu shook her head mutedly.

"No? Well then, perhaps you should be left here to fester more. The world eats girls like you. Good girls. Scared girls. If you don't learn to control your hatred, a curse will come for you."

The strange man stood, and the shadows gathered around him.

"Farewell, Hatsumi Anyu."

. . . . . . . .

Three monks sat within his vicinity, and it was the dark-haired serving girl who saw right through his disguise. Sukuna left the teahouse that evening feeling highly amused. Pausing on the gravel path, he took a moment to admire the rose-colored plaster, the pine trees, the kerosene lanterns burning brightly under the tiled eaves. It was the tallest building along the west-facing bank, tucked into the trees like a grand old fortress. He had chosen the spot to watch the bridge that connected both sides – the only of its kind in this remote river valley.

The impulse to raze it to the ground was still there, lingering like an itch. The curse had embedded itself into the foundation long ago, leaving the stones and timber to rot. All it would take was one thunderous storm to wash the teahouse away. But the girl had stopped him. Her politeness had spared it and everyone inside.

He flicked his wrist, and, in an instant, the curse was dismantled. Black plumes of smoke wafted in the air, quick to disappear into nothing.

A kindness for a kindness he supposed.

For days now, he had remained in hiding from his pursuers. Partly out of necessity and partly out of spite. Recent injuries necessitated a long period of rest, but not without gambling the lives of his enemies by spreading curses throughout the countryside. He had built his web and like the good spider, stowed himself in the corner to await his prey. For weeks now, there had been little activity save for the subtle shift in the air which drew his attention south.

The girl stood out from all the rest like a freshly minted coin. Where the others were unconscious beings, the child stood on the terrace, still and alert for what would have been hours. He watched the light change in her eyes when she caught a wren taking flight from the opposite bank or catching dragonflies swirling in the reeds. She was paying attention and that was the first mark of an awakened one. One who saw more than the illusion of reality that was presented to them.

The girl had kept her gaze trained on the water, searching beneath the depths. It was then he realized she could see through the veil.

His gaze trailed up the slopes of the green mountain, landing on its pointed peak.

He was bored, which made him reckless.

"Why not pay this otherworldly shrine a visit?"

With that, a deadly grin danced upon his lips.

A/N: This is just an idea I have swirling in my head after watching Jujutsu Kaisen recently. This story will be contained in fifteen chapters and deals with some darker themes. For my Haikyuu readers, this may be a slight departure from my otherwise more light-hearted and humorous style, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! (This will be a fun project as I work to complete The Small Things and jump into the time-skip sequel.)

This story will feature a Sukuna who is more human than a curse object and is just now coming into his power during the Heian period. I need that little sliver of humanity left in him in order to make this story work. Otherwise, he's a pretty vile character for a romantic lead. Haha

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Until next time,

Lavendermoonmilk