Yokai: Winds of the Yakuri

A man may work for a year. 

A soldier may serve for a decade. 

A father may love for a life, 

But the avenged are never forgotten. 

Snow dove into the rocky hills. It was relentless, unmerciful. Whatever remaining stone was quickly battered in white frost. Trees bent. Shrubs shuddered. And the tall grass was buried. Still the snow dove. Dark skies promised more frost even as gusts brought powder bleeting down. A lone figure crouched in the blizzard. Her tall Kama-Yari acted as a sort of cane as she surveyed the snowy scene before her. The women wore a double-layed kimono with dark green underneath and black and red over it. Her sleeves were tied back, revealing hands wrapped in cloth except for the finger tips. Her waist was tied with an obi and ropes. Over her kimono, but under her straw hat, she wore a mino, a raincoat made from straw. She reached out a wrapped hand, running her fingers over the crimson snow. Five footprints had led to this spot. Only three went away. Slowly, the woman rose with the help of her yari. She let out a long breath of fog. It was thick in the dry, frigid air. She gently picked up the Kama-Yari. It was made from fine wood, orange, with black-metal grips at the base, handle, and top. A horizontal blade adored the top. It was bent at the end to latch onto prey and drag them back to their deaths. The woman ran her uncovered left hand across the flat surface of her blade.

 Tonight was a killing night. The bloody, smashed pulp in front of her was just the beginning. Looking around at the sagging trees and falling snow, something moved in the darkness of the pine trees, beneath the tree’s bases covered in snow and their green branches barely visible in the white. The woman stood tall and slowly lowered her long hook-spear. She tilted her head slightly and her dark eyes gleamed at the approaching shape. Despite the cold, an eerie smile crept across her lips. 

“Watch them, Konomi, what do you notice?” Konomi stared at the two snow leopards as they clashed. Their fierce claws, their swishing tails, their heads pulled back with necks taut and legs forward—what was he looking for? Konomi titled her head slightly, her dark eyes watching every movement. Konomi was tall for a teenage girl. She had a thin frame with freckles just under her eyes on the ridge of her nose. Her face was narrow, made doubly so by her long hair, which was split. Part was pulled by behind her head, but loose long bangs fell on either side of her eyes. Not far from her, Mastaku sat on an overturned stump, sharpening the end of his Kama-Yari. It’s orange wood seemed to almost gleam after he finished polishing it. Konomi refocused on the cats. Dark blood matted their fur. It had begun to spill onto the light snow beneath them. Another fierce lunge and the larger leopard ripped into his foe’s neck. He thrashed his head around and, all at once, the other leopard was dead. Its body fell into the light snow, blood pooling on the still green grass sticking up from the powder. The other leopard began to stagger off, only to collapse onto the ground. Its flank rose and fell and rose and fell. Then slowly its rises got smaller. Snow melted around its mouth from exerted breathing. But as the sun shone, its breath got lighter and lighter until there was no breath at all. Konomi watched them both without a clue. 

“They’re dead, Sensei.” 

“And what did you learn?” Her teacher’s voice was level. He didn’t even look up from sharpening his blade. Konomi bobbed her head forward in confusion. She looked at the dead carcasses. 

“They killed each other?” 

“And why did they kill each other?” 

“They were fighting for a mate.” Konomi tried to recreate the scene. “Two tom cats. They find a female; she’s in heat. Her nest is nearby and with winter rapidly approaching, they know this is their last chance. So they begin to fight. Both are older; this may be their last chance. One is larger. One is faster. Their fight drags on until the bigger one—" Konomi pointed a finger to the leopard that had nearly walked away. “Tires out his foe and can take the killing blow.”

“And which of them won the mate?” There was a soft pat as Mastaku set the Kama-Yari’s hilt down on the snow. 

“Neither.” Konomi looked one last time at the scene. She couldn’t understand. Both animals lay dead, their breathing extinguished in the autumn snow. 

“So why did both fight to the death?” Her mentor’s words hung in the dry air. A ball of melting snow fell onto the protruding grass. The branch that it fell from snapped up, tossing powder into the air. 

“They… didn’t realize they would both die?” Konomi’s voice offered little confidence in her choice of answer. The shift in her teacher’s posture showed it was the wrong answer. 

“You believe the mountain leopard, one of the wisest and most cunning animals of the rocky hills, was simply a fool in his final moments?” 

“They misjudged the other?” Konomi tried to save whatever face she could from her now scowling teacher’s rebuke. 

“A snow leopard will leap dozens of shaku off a cliff to catch prey. They don’t misjudge something.” Konomi knelt her head as her master approached like a storm. 

“Then…” Konomi’s voice quivered at her answer. “Then, I don’t know, master.” Her legs went limp, fearing the punishment that would come. Mastaku leered down at her with his Kama-Yari. 

“Then you should learn from them tonight. Take off your katana, leave your kunai. Tonight you are a leopard. You must find another tonight; watch him, follow him, survive in the night like him, think like him. When you return tomorrow morning, you must know why they died here.” 

The first Uwan leapt from the underbrush with a shout. Its face was hideous—a malformed bag of flesh, eyes, and hair. Its pale body wasn’t much better. It was rounded like an old man with a hunched back and bedsores. Its skin was wrinkled and matted, with a stomach sticking out bloated and pink. Konomi darted to the side, letting its bladed fingers slide past her. The Uwan’s forward momentum carried it forward, right into the chopping block of Konomi’s Kama-Yari. She yanked the hook-spear down with her right hand on the midpoint of the spear. It latched under the gruesome Uwan’s neck and pinned it to the earth. Before it could struggle or shout “uwan” again, Konomi stabbed her kaiken deep into the creature’s bloated neck. It spasmed and gurgled on its own spit before going still. The second Uwan shouted in protest and charged for Konomi. Unable to avoid it, the straw-hat Ronshin went limp. She allowed the Yokai to crush against her, carrying her a short distance and throwing her into the snow. Her signature straw hat was knocked off her head, and Konomi stood in the snow with her short black hair falling around her neck. Her face was sharp with dark, painted eyes and a thin chin. Her hair was short in the back with long bangs on either side of her eyes. The Yokai stamped around in the snow, celebrating its victory. “Uwan! Uwan!” It cheered. Then, dark green blood began to pour from its right side. Slowly jubalence turned to fear as the Uwan realized its mistake. Konomi slowly slid her kainken back into her black and green kimono. The Uwan tried to make another lunge for her, but the Ronshin pivoted on the snow and jammed her knife into its back as it charged. The last Uwan ran, its skinny legs carried it away in a frenzy. Quickly, Konomi picked up her hat. She placed the wide-brimmed hat on and rushed to pick up her Kama-Yari. With a leap, she cleared the low shrubs of the glade. The hunt was on. 

The night air was frigid. It was nearing midnight and so far, Konomi had found nothing. Only moonlight illuminated the dense forest of Nomori, giving the girl only a little light to work with. She had to keep moving to keep warm. Her thin kimono was usually complemented with a hanten. But that was when she wasn’t hunting, and tonight she would be hunting all night. She hadn’t found another leopard. Just prints in the snow. Their nature camouflage would make it nearly impossible in the dark. However, if she couldn’t find a leopard, how could she find a Yokai? Konomi came to a stop in another clearing. Hot frost came from her mouth. She knelt, brushing aside loose leaves and pine needles to reveal a few small paw prints. From the weight, the animal had been moving slowly. Staggering perhaps. It was a cat, but the diameter of the imprint suggested a much smaller animal to the snow leopard. What was a house cat doing this far into the woods? Intrigued, the teenage Ronshin-to-be followed the tiny paw prints as they wound through the forest. Konomi crested fallen trees and boulders until she found a small forest path cut into the side of a hill. It was carved out near the top of the hill and wound around the bend of the rising earth. As Konomi scaled the small hill, she found many foot prints in the muddy earth. They were frozen, but one such pair was quite recent. Konomi looked back down the path that led here. It was a narrow forest path, walked by quite a few. However, it was its location that seemed strange. This mountain wasn’t near any settlements. Only a few monks found solitude in its desolate spires. And these weren’t monk’s tracks. Konomi shifted on the narrow path. The cat’s paws became mingled with the footprints leading deeper into the forest. She took one last look over her shoulder before cautiously walking down the narrow path. 

The Uwan was easy to track. Its scrawny legs wouldn’t carry it far, no matter how much fear spurred its steps. Konomi leapt over the rocks, keeping the Yokai on her right side. It quickly barreled through the low brush before tumbling down a short, snowy hill. The Uwan rolled on its side, unable to stop itself from slipping. That was when Konomi struck. With an elegant leap, the Ronshin landed squarely next to the capsized yokai. It shouted in protest, trying to pick itself back up. “Uwan!” The creature grew silent as it found Konomi’s hook blade against its neck. Her dark eyes gleamed. Slowly, she forced the Yokai to stretch its triple chin and look at her. Its mouth was clean. No blood. This wasn’t her prey, but it did know where her prey was, for clutched in its hands were pieces of fingers and toes. Konomi flashed her teeth in a smile before slashing the end of her Kama-Yari across the Yokai’s neck. The bait was set. There was a pounding somewhere in the forest. Konomi turned slowly. Another loud thud as something approached. She planted the Kama-Yari against the ground. From under her mino she drew a short bow. Snowy wind rustled through the trees. Her straw raincoat and hat seemed to bristle. Another loud thud and somewhere in the dark, Konomi saw a single gleaming red eye. It was heading towards the village. She knew the Ippondatara well. On this day and this day only, it would kill. Meaning Konomi had only one day to get it first. 

The cat’s trail led to a small ruined village. Five wooden shacks were left in total disrepair. While snow tried to hide it, the green creeping moss all over the rooves and collasping walls showed that this place had been abandoned long ago. That is, except for the footprints that seemed to spiral around the place. Matted snow, pressed down by something heavy, showed spiraling paths around the small village. For a moment, Konomi considered fleeing the place. Her master would be very displeased if she didn’t find another leopard. But on the other hand, this village might have something cooked and warm. 

Creeping closer, the young Ronshin-to-be kept herself obscured in the trees around the huts. They weren’t large; even when they were dilapidated, the houses looked more like hunting shacks than real lodges. They were shielded on all sides by the low hills, with the only path into the small gulch being the road the cat had followed. Konomi checked the footprints. Human. Heavy. Slowly moving. Barefoot. Konomi looked at the cat prints leading into the center hut. The smell of mold had begun to overwhelm the place. There was no food. And whoever was here wasn’t worth talking to. Konomi stood slowly, locking her eyes on the slightly ajar central hut. Something was moving inside. As her eyes adjusted, it was unmistakable. Someone or something was crouched in the hut. It’s elongated arms wrapped around something. Konomi tilted her head. It was a small house cat pulled taunt like a rope. The thing’s long arms brought the cat slowly to its face and Konomi could hear the crunch of bones. As the non-human looked up from its prey, Konomi felt a cold sweat go down her back. The creature recognized her as food. Much more food than the small tabby cat, it quickly tossed aside the dead animal and its long arms pulled it out of the shack like a spider leaving its web. Without stopping to think, Konomi ran. 

The Ippondatara neared the village with every crushing thud of its single leg. This one was huge. It was taller than two men with three long nails on the end of its single foot. Its arms were narrow and boney, with two long fingers on the end. It moved with a crash, jumping high and slamming down onto the ground, sending snow and broken branches flying. It was far too large to take on directly. Konomi took her Kama-Yari and rushed for the nearby hill. The rocks jutting out were just big enough to allow her to climb up. She easily cleared the top and her forward momentum carried her like a whirlwind. From her new vantage point, Konomi withdrew a blowgun from her mino. She crouched down low against the snow and loaded hornet stingers into the bamboo strip. She breathed in a waiting. The heavy thumping was getting closer. A tree shook and crashed beside her, but the Ronshin didn’t move. She held her breath and as the red bobbing eye of the Ippondatara appeared, she released all her air. and pushed the tiny projectiles out with a burst of air. The hopping suddenly stopped. A heavy shout like the splintering of wood spilled through the forest. Konomi smiled at the sound of pain and turned to lure the beast deeper into the forest. 

The heavy crashing came closer and closer. Konomi sprinted into a clearing of trees. She quickly leapt up, grabbing a rope that had been left dangling in the middle of the grove. She sailed across the gap and landed lightly on the other side. With a flourish, she tossed the rope aside, hiding any evidence of her plan for in this grove, Konomi had dug for the last four nights. She’d hollowed out a deep pit with sharpened bamboo facing towards the top. Normally Ippondatara were shy, coming out only once a year for a kill, so for the last few nights she’d been too. Avoided contact with the locals, focusing instead on digging a fresh grave. The thudding grew closer to the grove. Komoni braced herself with her hook-spear aimed towards the dark trees. Finally, the red-eyed Yokai neared the edge of the clearing. Its spindly arms and thick body made it look like the willow trees around them. However, it was red in color with thick, dark hair like a horse’s mane on its back. Konomi feigned aggression, holding her spear out to threaten the Yokai. It held fast at the edge of the clearing. Its single eye watching Konomi’s spear flash in the moonlight. Konomi bent forward, taking a threatening pose. The Ippondatara let out a groan before its thick body began to tense for a jump. Konomi could feel through her tabi that her foot was just on the edge of the hole. A thin blanket and dirt covered it, but the Ippondatara’s eye was on her. Just as it was close to jumping, Konomi heard movement to the east. She looked into the forest at the path nearby. 

“Ronshin-san!” It was the village elder in his winter clothes. Her face was red from the cold. Konomi’s mouth opened with frustration as the elder continued to wave his arms to get her attention. “You need to come back quickly! Ronshin-san!” Upon another glance, Konomi did notice his skin looked pale from fear, and his eyes were locked on her completely. It was as if he didn’t even notice the giant yokai standing not far from Konomi. Konomi sneered and looked back at the looming Yokai. It glanced at her again before turning away from the trap. Konomi went for her blow gun but the Ippondatara began to stamp towards the elder with a roar. 

Konomi’s legs barely touched the ground as she ran. A low scraping sound and raspy gasps of air from behind her made sure she didn’t stop. She vaulted over fallen trees and dove under bushes with tears running down her cheeks. Still, the rasping sound got closer. As she crawled from under a tree, her dark eyes scanned for anything to hide inside. A cave, a hollowed log—anything to get her away. Her fingers dug into the icy snow and she sprinted deeper into the forest. The ground gave way to a dried creek bed. Konomi tumbled down on the uneven terrain. She rolled into the narrow ditch and ice cracked as she stood up. Blood ran down from her lip and off her fingers. Her breath came out in long puffs of frost. The sound was gone. The young girl did quick circles, trying to keep the ridges in her line of sight. She searched for anything that could be used as a weapon on the frozen ground. Then fingernails slid over the side of the basin. A long arm reached down, pulling the human-looking creature down into the ditch with her. It’s face was dried like a mummy and its long arms and limbs slid across the ground with eerie precision. Konomi grabbed at the frozen dust beneath her and began to throw it with shaking hands. Her lungs uttered weak cries of protest, but she couldn’t catch her breath. She fell back on the cold earth. The man’s yellow eyes drew closer. She thought of the two leopards fighting that morning. How bravely they clashed. How desperately they fought. Hot breaths came from her nose as the creature began to claw towards her. Konomi picked up a piece of ice. It began to melt in her warm hands, but at least for now she had a weapon. Her arms tensed and her legs shook, but she stood up against the beast. If she was to die, it would be fighting. 

The Ippondatara smashed through the forest towards the elder. Konomi’s darts did nothing to deter it. Seeing the Yokai now, the elder ran with deathly speed. However, the heavy stamps of the Yokai easily outpaced him. On instinct, the elder began to charge for his village, leaving an easy trail in the snow. 

“Run towards the waterfall!” Konomi shouted above the thundering steps. The elder seemed to hear her, changing his direction towards the old shrine at the edge of the village. There was a small hot spring flow that ran down to pools below the shrine. If the elder could only make it there on time. Konomi crested a small hill, then, throwing her weight down, she began to slide on the slippery snow. While balancing, Konomi hoisted her Kama-Yari over her shoulder. She arched back and threw the spear through the night. It sliced the snowflakes in half as it flew. It pierced the side of the large Yokai. With a shout of rage, the red-eyed monster staggered off-balance into a nearby clump of white trees. They flattened like wheat in the wind and the Yokai quickly regained its balance despite its single leg. However, the attack was long enough to give the elder time to reach the pools. He stopped on the top of the ledge, unable to move. Konomi withdrew her dart gun and blew one of the stingers through. She didn’t see it fly, but the elder leapt in the air with pain before disappearing below the ridge. The Ippondatara followed closely behind with a leap that ended with a heavy splash. The springs weren’t frozen yet. Konomi smiled. She reached the end of the cliff and jumped. 

There was a great crack far above Konomi, then a whistle like low rolling thunder. Confused, she looked up and was blinded by a great light. She shielded her face from the night-sun but the heat was too much. She felt her forearms burn with a great fire. Then a crash like a mountain collasping threw her back. There was the smell of burnt stone and then silence. Konomi rolled in the snow, unable to understand what had happened. As light slowly returned to her eyes, she saw the ditch she was once in was now a crater. Ash and soot drifted around; the snow was melted cleanly. A small stone only the size of a seed lay in a burnt hole where the creature once was. Coming closer, Konomi tried to retrieve the stone. It was fiery to the touch and she released it at once. The stone flew a short way into the snow and sizzled somewhere to the bottom. Konomi raced to the spot and tossed the snow aside until she found the stone again, now cooled by the ice. She held it in her hand, feeling the weight. It was heavy; unsure of its origins, Konomi looked up the stars. While looking up, she saw someone watching her. 

“What was it, master?” Mastaku’s brow was furrowed to a point. He stepped out, looking up at the stars himself. With an angered voice, he spoke, 

“The star-children intervened on your behalf.” 

“The star-children?” 

“Wicked spirits from below heavens.” Konomi closer her mouth. She breathed in the frozen air. It felt good in her lungs. Her eyes were trained on the glittering stars above. “You mustn’t let this concern you; do you have an answer yet?” 

Slowly, Konomi let her gaze all from the dark night sky. She looked at her master holding the stone out to him. He took it, placing it away in his kimono. 

“They fight because there is honor in the noble death. Facing another with death so close; it is the pride of any animal.” Mastaku’s face softened. 

“You have learned well, Konomi. If you are to hunt Yokai, you must think like them.” He placed a warm arm over the girl’s shoulder. The pair looked up at the stars together for a moment. 

“The star-children were fools.” Mastaku took the small stone and placed it in a small mold. “Someday I will forge a mighty blade with this.” He took string and fashioned a necklace with the stone. “And with it, we will pierce the heart of the stars.” 

Konomi’s weight carried her down into the onsen below. It was a small cyan-blue pool. The elder was desperately scrambling to get clear of the waters. The Ippondatara was reaching for his legs while Konomi slid the kainken out from her kimono. Without a sound, she jammed the blade into the Ippondatara’s eye. Her weight all came crashing down and she brought the Yokai with her into the springs. The cyan-blue waters ran red with blood as Konomi stood over her prey. After all, leopards jumped dozens of shaku off a cliff to catch their prey. Steam rose from Konomi’s body as she panted with contentment. Her heart raced and her lungs sang. 

“How did you know the springs weren’t frozen?” The elder’s meek voice called to her. 

“I didn’t.” The snow continued to fall, melting instantly in the bloodied waters. The elder shifted uncomfortably from her answer. 

“You should come see quickly.” 

Konomi followed the old man through the narrow gates of the small village. Wooden palisade walls were all that protected this fishing village from the outside. Konomi was still dripping with spring water, but the villagers stood around in silence as she entered. A small procession had gathered. They stood outside their homes like statues as the Ronshin walked through. Though she cared little for the celebration after a job, Konomi was rarely greeted with this much silence. The people stood with bowed heads. The procession led down to the docks, where a few fishermen huddled around a catch. Something was already off; Konomi noted floating bodies in the shallow waters. Their skin was blue like the spring waters. The elder began to speak, “We found him while you were out. A Ronshin like you, his straw hat was still attached.” His words fell on deaf ears as the fishermen parted to let Konomi see. Her master lay frozen at her feet, his hands forever clutched around a necklace. Eyes wide in terror.