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A silent forest was never a good sign.
Kazuha tightly clutched the hilt of his sheathed sword, moving light on his feet. A lone sweat trickled from his forehead as he took another step forward deeper into the forest.
"Are you sure this is the way?" One of his companions whispered urgently. Her nimble physique carried her presence much quieter, the well done updo of her strawberry-blonde hair bobbing up and down with her movements.
"Ayaka-san doesn't have much time." His detective friend spoke, holding the said girl in his arms. She had been unconscious ever since the accident with the bandits during their travels, requiring urgent care for her wounds after having taken a brutal blow.
The four had been directed to a nearby apothecary as instructed by a nearby village elder, who had pointed towards the near peak of the mountains they were in now. However, they had failed to notice the ominous atmosphere in their state of desperation, now paying the price of their nescience.
"We shouldn't have trusted that damned grandma." Heizou cursed under his breath, feeling his arms weaken with every second that passed. "This area of Inazuma is littered with yokai out to catch prey."
"Perhaps there's still a way out." Kazuha pursed his lips. "Yoimiya, do you still remember the last turn we made before?"
No response. A sudden, foreboding chill travelled down his spine, causing him to freeze in his tracks. Kazuha slowly turned his head, breath catching in his throat to see no one behind him.
"Yoimiya?"
A whistle of wind was barely caught by his keen ears. The samurai turned around once more, only to see his last two companions also missing.
"Heizou? Ayaka?"
Kazuha caught a slight movement from his peripheral, narrowly swerving his head to the side to avoid the rapid incoming of an arrow.
As the weapon embedded itself onto the floor, a familiar sigil caught his eye. Kazuha made his way towards the object, crouching down to hold the tied piece of washi, delicate traces of ink forming together to form the symbol of Inazuma.
"Shogun?" The samurai mumbled under his breath, brows scrunching together in confusion. It was a symbol used only by the imperial guards of the isolated nation—a nation he and his companions had escaped from long ago.
Before he could act, the back end of a blunt object had hit the nape of his head, causing his eyes to roll back as he collapsed onto the floor, immobile and unconscious.
