The Frost Hashira

Chapter 17 - Going somewhere?

"There's an urban legend about beautiful but cruel oirans with 'hime' at the end of their names," she began, her voice quiet but deliberate. "They're said to tilt their heads to the side when angered. Oh, and there's... well..." Her words trailed off. Her gaze flickering toward me before shaking her head. "Never mind."

I leaned forward. "Hm? No, what is it? Tell me."

She sighed, her fingers absently twirling a lock of her silky black hair. "It's just... there are actually some people who match that description." She shook her head again, a nervous laugh escaping her. "But it's probably nothing relevant."

I leaned back, eyes drifting to the flickering lantern above us. "A beautiful, cruel oiran with 'hime' in her name who tilts her head," I murmured, repeating her words thoughtfully.

Maybe he's in disguise?

I looked back at her. "Have you heard of one with rainbow eyes?"

"Rainbow eyes?" She echoed, her eyebrows furrowing, as if confused by the very concept. "Not that I'm aware of."

"I can work with that." I said showing no sign of my disappointment. I bowed my head slightly. "Thank you for your help. What's your name?"

"Aiko." She said offering a small smile.

"Nice to meet you." I responded. "Okay, thank you again. I'll head off now if there's nothing else you have to add." I pushed myself onto my feet. "The money for your help will reach you soon."

"Let me walk you out." She said getting up and walking past me, holding the curtain open for me. I followed her out and when we got outside, waved her goodbye as I walked away.

I turned toward the street, my steps slow and aimless. Around me, people chattered as they moved about, merchants calling out to passersby, hawking their wares. The atmosphere was lively but not chaotic, a far cry from the bustling, noisy nights this district was known for.

So, Doma isn't here, I thought, weaving through the crowd, my hand resting lightly on the hilt of my sword. But another demon might be. The idea was tempting. Tracking it down, killing it myself—it would be something, at least.

My mind went back to Kazuya. His lifeless body. The blood on my hands. I looked down at my hands.

No, I thought firmly, wiping my hands on my pants. If Doma isn't here there's no point.

The concrete paved road below me soon faded into broken cobblestone then dirt.

"This was a waste of time," I muttered, the words feeling hollow in the still air. I stared ahead, as if expecting something to come up on the empty path, something that would make this all worth it. But there was nothing. Doma was gone. Long gone.

My stomach growled, pulling me back to reality. I dug through my pockets, hoping for anything to quiet the gnawing ache. Nothing.

"I should've just drank the damn tea," I grumbled under my breath. I leaned down and picked up a rock from the ground. I clutched onto it as tight as I could, before reeling my arm out behind me and throwing it with all my strength.  It sailed into the distance, disappearing into the quiet. I let out a sigh and looked at the sun.

"What the hell do I do now?" I shouted.

Suddenly, a wet splat landed right on my head. I reached up, fingers brushing into my hair only to feel a cold and sticky substance.  A queasy knot twisted inside my throat. That's bird poop isn't it? I clenched my teeth, shut my eyes, and stood there, seething.