Chapter 2


We had spent pretty much the entire first night traversing through the forest. With me having to rely almost entirely on Okunami for navigation since I didn't want to give away our location or spend some of the few resources for light I had on me, chief among them being the glowsticks and the dynamo-powered emergency flashlight.

Morning broke gently over the forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. I rubbed my eyes, stiff from a night of continuous travel. Okunami seemed unfazed, stretching her massive arms overhead with a satisfied grunt.

"How much farther to Irontown?" I asked, adjusting my backpack. The weight of my remaining supplies—pressed against my shoulders.

Okunami grinned, her teeth gleaming white against her ruddy complexion. "Oh, a couple more days probably, give or take."

"And do you actually know where it is?"

"Nope! But the rumors I heard about it said that it's nestled up between the mountains and right next to a large lake. Only one road leads to its gates, and it's one of the treacherous mountain paths."

I stifled a groan. Of course. We were wandering through unfamiliar terrain with only the vaguest directions, led by an oni who admitted she'd never actually been there before. This was exactly the kind of situation I'd learned to avoid during my years spent camping out in the wilderness of Lapland.

"So we're basically following village gossip toward a mountain range we can't even see yet," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Okunami slapped me on the back hard enough to make me stumble forward. "Exactly! Where's your sense of adventure, Mikko-san? The journey is part of the experience!"

I couldn't help but smile despite myself. Her enthusiasm was infectious, even when it bordered on the ridiculous. Back home, I'd prided myself on meticulous preparation—knowing exactly where I was going, what I'd encounter, and how long it would take. This haphazard wandering went against everything I'd learned about wilderness survival.

"In my experience," I said, falling into step beside her, "adventures tend to be what happens when plans go wrong."

Okunami threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the trees. "Then we're having the greatest adventure of all!"

We continued our trek as the day warmed around us. The forest here felt different from anything I'd known before—the vegetation more lush, the colors more vibrant, the sounds both familiar and alien. Occasionally, I'd spot what looked like small white figures flitting between trees, their heads tilting with soft clicking sounds before disappearing.

"Kodama," Okunami explained, noticing my gaze. "Tree spirits essentially."

"Tree spirits," I repeated, watching as one of the small white figures tilted its head with a distinct rattling sound. "They're more... visible than I expected."

"They like you," Okunami said matter-of-factly, ducking under a low-hanging branch. "They can sense your respect for the forest. Not many humans have that anymore."

The kodama's blank face seemed to stare at me for a moment before it vanished with a soft pop. I wondered what these spirits would make of the vast, silent forests back home, where the northern lights danced over frozen lakes and everything felt still enough to echo a whisper.

We paused near a stream, and I filled my canteen with fresh water while Okunami lounged on a boulder, soaking her feet. Birds chattered above, and the sunlight was warm on my back.

"We should get moving soon," I said, more out of habit than urgency. It felt strange to be on a journey with no strict timeline.

"Relax," Okunami replied, swinging her legs playfully through the water. "There's time."

Maybe she was right. There was no deadline, no real rush. The thought was both liberating and slightly unnerving. Back home, every trip, whether it was with friends or just me and Nakki was planned down in detail because of the simple fact that we didn't tend to stay longer than a week and thus didn't pack a lot of excess food. Every outing, had been measured and managed. Out here, the rules were different.

As I sat back and let myself listen to the forest, a distant rumble caught my attention. It was low and constant, like a giant's footsteps or the growl of thunder from miles away.

"What's making that noise?" I asked, standing up.

Okunami shrugged. "Might be one of the great creatures."

"Great creatures," I echoed, wondering if anything in this place wasn't magical or mysterious. "Like what?"

"Some say the gods that guard this forest," she replied, slipping her sandals back on. "Others say rampaging yokai. I say don't worry about it. If it's one of the gods, they can be reasoned with. If its a yokai they'll get bored before long."

I arched an eyebrow, unsure how comforting that was supposed to be. But Okunami seemed unbothered, and despite only having known her for a day, I was beginning to trust her instincts.

"Since we've already stopped, we might as well camp here till nightfall," she said, looking around with satisfaction. "No point in traveling through the day when we're easily spotted."

The rumbling felt closer now, a persistent background to the forest's symphony. I nodded and began setting up our shelter—another thing I wasn't used to doing with this much daylight left.

Okunami gathered fallen branches and tinder to start a fire with while I looked around for suitable materials to make a small lean-to from. A temporary primitive one only needed a few sturdy poles and some wide leaves for cover, but I felt the urge to make it more elaborate, like building a house of cards just to see how tall it could get.

The low rumble continued as we worked. I listened with one ear, trying not to dwell on what kind of creature could make such a sound. Maybe Okunami was right—there was nothing to be done about it, so why worry?


As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the light softened to a syrupy gold. We had a decent shelter up and a small fire going. Something that had been much faster and easier to light up thanks to my sleek modern tinderbox.

After getting over her initial surprise at how fast I got the fire started, Okunami roasted us some roots she'd dug up, and their earthy aroma mixed surprisingly well with the fish she'd caught with her bamboo fishing rod.

Thank fuck I'd packed some salt with me, or otherwise the meal might have been pretty bland for my tastes.

"It's like watching someone season their food with gold." Okunami complained at my perceived wasteful use of seasoning. And I could understand her reasoning as to why, salt was a precious commodity in the past because of how hard it was to obtain and how widely it could be used.

"I'll use it sparingly, don't worry." I promised, trying to sound genuine.

She nodded, pacified for the moment, her eyes reflecting the firelight as she watched me pinch out another few grains.

Once we'd eaten our fill, Okunami stretched out on the grass and looked up at the sky. "The stars will be bright tonight," she said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

"Is that how you tell time out here?" I asked, lying back next to her. The sky was an endless blue-purple bowl, deepening by the minute.

"How else are you supposed to?"

That was actually a good question. My watch would eventually stop working, if for no other reason than simple planned obsolescence.

"It's the oldest way," she continued, "and the simplest."

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of the fire flicker across my face. The rumble was still there, a constant reminder of the forest's mysteries. But it felt distant now, less important. Lying under the vast sky, my concerns seemed to shrink into insignificance.

The serene moment was interrupted when I heard Nakki stir next to me and jump up to his feet, looking towards the dense treeline.

"What is it, boy?" I questioned.

Nakki's response was to begin growling and barking at whatever was in the darkness.

I sat up immediately, my hand instinctively reaching for my rifle. Okunami was on her feet in one fluid motion, her posture shifting from relaxed to battle-ready so quickly I barely saw the transition.

"We've got company," she muttered, her eyes narrowed toward the same patch of darkness that had Nakki's attention.

The rumbling sound I'd been hearing all day suddenly made sense—it wasn't distant thunder or some abstract forest god. It was breathing. Massive, rhythmic breathing that now seemed to fill the entire clearing.

Two gleaming eyes appeared in the darkness, followed by two additional smaller pairs on both sides of it. Soon the forms of three snowwhite wolves, one big and two smaller ones, appeared. What I did not expect though, was the girl riding on the back of one of them.

"What do we do?" I whispered to Okunami.

"Nothing sudden," Okunami whispered back, not taking her eyes off the wolves. "That's the one I told you about yesterday, Moro, the Wolf God, and her children. The human is San—though most call her Mononoke-hime. She's… not exactly fond of your kind."

The giant wolf stepped into the clearing, moonlight washing over her pristine white fur. She was enormous—larger than any wolf I'd ever seen or even imagined. Her two cubs, if you could call creatures that size "cubs," flanked her protectively, watching us with intelligent eyes that reflected the firelight.

The girl—San—glared at me with such intensity that I felt as if I was being physically pushed back. Her face was marked with red paint, and despite her small stature compared to the wolves, she carried herself with a wild, dangerous presence.

I remained perfectly still, afraid any movement might trigger an attack. Nakki had positioned himself between me and the wolves, his hackles raised but his barking silenced to a low growl. Loyal to a fault—he knew he was outmatched against his larger cousins but still chose to put himself in the line of fire first.

"Oni," Moro spoke, her voice deep and resonant like the earth itself shifting. "Why have you brought a human into our forest?"

Okunami made a slight bow—not servile, but respectful. "Great Moro, we're just passing through. This one is different."

San slid from the back of one of the younger wolves with fluid grace, landing in a crouch before straightening. Her movements reminded me of a predator—tense, alert, ready to strike. Her eyes never left mine.

"They all say that," she spat. "When it comes to life or death, every human who enters our lands promises they mean no harm. And yet, they destroy, they consume, they kill."

Okunami met San's fierce glare with calm determination. "This one seeks no quarrel. Of that I can assure you."

My mouth was dry, but I forced myself to speak. "I—I'm a mere stranger to these lands whose trying to find his footing, I don't want trouble with anyone."

San's expression shifted slightly, confusion and suspicion clouding her eyes. The younger wolves circled restlessly, their movements causing shadows to dance around us.

Moro's attention however, seemed very focused on Nakki.

"That wolf," Moro said, her voice rumbling through the night, "carries the mark of humans. Yet he stands with you."

Nakki stood his ground, eyes locked onto Moro, a steady growl rumbling in his chest. I felt a rush of pride and fear for him, knowing full well that he was outmatched but still refusing to back down.

San's gaze flickered to Nakki, then back to me. "He'll betray you," she warned as if she could understand what the spitz was saying. "They always do."

Nakki simply responded by barking angrily at her, it was the kind of barking that he had used in the past to scare away bears and other predators that wandered too close to my camp during past hunting trips. It was a brave show, but part of me wondered if he wasn't just making things worse.

Moro watched Nakki with an inscrutable gaze, then let out a low, rumbling noise that might have been a chuckle. "He has the spirit of the forest in him and treats the human as his packmate," she said to San. "Perhaps this human is not as blind as the others."

San's eyes narrowed, her distrust palpable. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the sounds of countless insects and distant creatures. For a moment, I imagined all the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Very well," San said reluctantly. "But if you harm the forest, we will not hesitate to hunt you down." She turned and leapt back onto the wolf's back, melding seamlessly with the creature's movements.

Nakki's barking tapered into a low growl, but he kept his stance firm as the wolves began to retreat into the shadows. I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in my muscles start to unwind. Okunami watched them go, her face thoughtful.

"You handled that well," she said finally. "I told you she wasn't fond of humans."

I nodded, still processing what had just happened.

"You still got some of that sake?"

Okunami responded by handing the small container of booze to me, I took a nice big gulp from it.

I was way too sober for this shit.


"Man I'm someone whose used to walking a lot when chasing game, but this is too much even for me." I said as I massaged my legs to prevent them from cramping up.

"Eh, you're just soft," Okunami replied with a grin, not even breaking a sweat as we traversed our fourth day of rugged terrain.

The mountain paths we'd been following since dusk wound precariously around steep drops, occasionally offering glimpses of the valley below. The forest here was thinner, giving way to rocky outcroppings that seemed to reach toward the clouds.

"Look there," Okunami said, pointing ahead.

I turned to gaze at what she was pointing at and saw the remains of what looked to be a sacked caravan. Flipped carts, men and oxen lying motionless on the ground, and goods scattered across the path. The sight hit me like a punch to the gut—violence was apparently a universal language, regardless of what century or world you found yourself in.

"What happened here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Okunami approached the wreckage cautiously, her red horns catching the moonlight as she went to check on the bodies.

"They weren't stabbed to death, there are no arrows either…" She muttered as she turned one of the men over. "This one's had his throat bitten out, this is likely the work of Moro and her children."

I felt a chill crawl down my spine despite the warm night air. The massive wolves we'd barely managed to avoid having to fight had been less merciful to these men.

"There's nothing left for us here," I suggested, though I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting to leave the grisly scene behind so quickly.

Okunami started picking through the scattered goods, unconcerned by my discomfort. "Some of this might be useful," she said, holding up a roll of silk and stuffing it into her pack with a nod of approval. "Looks like they were traders. If I had to take a wild guess they're returning ones from Irontown who had finished selling off their haul at one of the other settlements before getting caught in an ambush."

I hesitated, feeling like a scavenger. But then again, what did honor matter to the dead when it wouldn't feed the living? After a moment, I joined her.

Nakki sniffed around the piles of goods and gave an excited yip when he found some rice and dried fish. "At least someone's happy," I muttered, managing a weak smile as I added the food to our supplies.

We moved quickly, both of us aware that the longer we lingered, the greater the chance that Moro's pack—or something worse—would find us. The moon climbed higher as we pushed on, leaving the wreckage behind. The path narrowed, forcing us into single file. Okunami led with her surefooted strides, and I struggled to keep pace.


"Did I ever tell you about the time I-"

"Seduced the magistrate's wife, yes, you already told that story twice now although I'm sure you'll tell it at least once more before we're done," I interrupted, trying to catch my breath.

Okunami laughed, her voice ringing out like a bell in the stillness. "Oh Mikko-san, you already know me so well."

We had been walking through the mountain path for hours now, and my nerves eventually got the better of me and I had to dig out the hand-cranked dynamo light from my backpack to provide additional illumination because I didn't trust myself to not slip and fall to my death even with Okunami leading the way.

The modern lightsource had piqued Okunami's interest at the time and she had inquired about what other wacky inventions I had stored away in my backpack, but now she seemed to have lost interest and was more concerned about telling her stories.

"Why don't you tell me one of your tales this time? I've never heard you speak about your past," she said, glancing back at me with curiosity.

I thought about the kind of story that would impress an Oni and came up blank. "I used to work at a school at one point…"

"Didn't take you for a learned individual." Okunami interrupted with a snort before I could finish my sentence. "Have to admit, that's a little duller than I was hoping." She grinned over her shoulder as she slowed down enough so I could catch up.

"Schools are… a bit different where I'm from." I said pausing for a moment as I thought of how to explain the difference between what a modern day school is compared to the understanding of a person from centuries, maybe even millenia ago, on a whole another continent. "Our schools are not gathering places exclusively for like… wisemen and such. They're more like places of general learning for children from six to fifteen years old. I didn't teach them philosophy or poetry—I helped them learn practical skills. How to count, how to read, how to identify plants and animals." I adjusted my pack, feeling the weight of my former life pressing on my shoulders. "I was good at it."

Okunami was quiet for a moment, the only sound between us the crunch of gravel beneath our feet and Nakki's soft panting as he trotted alongside us.

"Teaching all children?" she finally asked, her voice unusually thoughtful. "Even the ones of peasants, of the poor and wretched?"

"All of them, yes. It was all paid through taxation and attendance was mandatory for all children." I confirmed.

She whistled low, shaking her head in wonder. "Your homeland must be very strange indeed, Mikko-san. Here, only the children of samurai and wealthy merchants learn such things. The rest learn from their parents or not at all." She paused, then added with a hint of resentment. "My kind aren't exactly welcome in those fancy schools either. I learned by listening at windows and stealing scrolls when no one was looking." She laughed, but there was an edge to it. "What I couldn't steal, I figured out myself."

The path suddenly widened as we rounded a bend, and I nearly stumbled as the ground leveled out. Before us stretched a view that stole my breath—the mountains falling away into a vast valley, and nestled against a gleaming lake, was a large settlement nestled on top of an island and surrounded on all sides by wooden stakes and palisades. Smoke billowed out from what looked like massive furnaces, piercing the night sky. Even from this distance, I could make out the glow of fires.

"Is that…?" I trailed off.

"I think we've finally found Irontown," Okunami said, the usual bravado in her voice tempered by something else. Awe, perhaps.

Nakki barked, his tail wagging furiously, and I reached down to scratch behind his ears. The journey had been long and fraught with uncertainty, but seeing Irontown spread before us like a promise renewed my spirit. We took a moment to simply take it all in, feeling the cool night breeze on our faces.

"We'll need to be careful when we approach the gates," Okunami said after a moment, her tone shifting to something more cautious. "While they take in all kinds of refuse of society, they won't take kindly to strangers showing up unannounced in the middle of the night. Especially when one of them is an Oni," she finished with a knowing look.

I could only nod as we began our approach, taking the path down towards the small wooden bridge that would lead us onto the island and in front of the main gate, hoping to whatever power watched over us that our trip here hadn't been for nothing.


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Pub: 09 Oct 2025 00:28 UTC

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