Chapter 5: Shadows in the Hot Spring
Riko shed her clothes and slipped into the primrose bathrobe, embroidered with scarlet goldfish.
Under the lantern’s soft glow, they seemed to swim.
She tied the Hontsubo Bell to her waist.
Finished, she carried a wooden basin and opened the sliding door, her eyes catching Seimei standing under an old camphor tree, basin in hand.
His navy bathrobe made his skin strikingly pale.
Leaning against the trunk, he gazed idly at the stars.
Thin moonlight filtered through sparse branches, dusting his face.
His eyes sparkled like they held the stars themselves.
Hearing her, Seimei turned, straightening up.
She noticed he relaxed lazily in private but stood tall in public.
“Let’s go.”
Seimei’s eyes crinkled, and he headed to the back courtyard.
“Wait.”
Riko hurried after him, handing over a small paper square.
“What’s this?”
Seimei held the basin in one hand, taking the paper with the other.
The folded paper opened easily in his palm.
A strange pear-shaped figure glowed, banishing the dimness under the eaves.
“This is… paper?”
Seimei’s elegant eyes gleamed with disbelief.
“Yes, a paper lightbulb.”
Riko’s voice held a shy note.
“I don’t have anything valuable.
This is all I’ve got.
Use it to light your way.
Fold it to turn it off.”
Seimei turned the paper lightbulb over, his eyes flickering with complex emotions.
“How did you do this?
Just ordinary paper?”
“Yes, ordinary paper.”
Riko nodded honestly.
“I don’t know how it works.
I cut the shape, and it glows.”
“Anything else?”
“Moving paper dolls.
They’re strong and can do many tasks.
Just those two things; nothing else works.”
Seeing his serious expression, Riko bit her lip.
“Should I not do this?
I’ll stop.”
Seimei understood her worry, his gaze softening.
“No need to fret.”
He stared at the paper lightbulb, lost in thought.
“No need to be so cautious either.
In this world of humans and spirits, anything’s possible.
In yin-yang arts, we infuse paper with spiritual energy to make cranes fly.
But your skill is more practical.
In Heian-kyo, we’ll find a way to keep it safe from prying eyes.”
He pinched the lightbulb between his fingers, smiling lightly.
“I love the gift.
Now, let’s soak.”
Seeing him accept it, Riko’s cheeks dimpled, her eyes curving like orange slices.
Clutching her basin, she followed him to the courtyard.
The hot spring was natural, tucked deep in the garden.
The Japanese courtyard was artfully arranged, trees and stones exuding Zen.
Riko’s clogs clacked on the pebble path, trailing Seimei like a little shadow.
At a bamboo-walled enclosure, Seimei stopped, and so did Riko.
She looked up at two entrances, each with a half-curtain: one marked “Men’s Bath,” the other “Women’s Bath.”
“We’ll meet at the dividing wall.
Don’t worry, I’ll keep talking to you.”
Seimei said, stepping behind the men’s curtain.
He’s really doing this?
Riko hesitated, lifting the women’s curtain.
Through a hall and corridor, she reached a stone-ringed pool steaming with faint sulfur.
Only one woman was there, sitting silently, back to her.
The inn had few guests, which was why Riko dreaded coming.
Bathing under a big moon alone felt eerie.
Flat wooden boards lay by the pool with buckets and ladles for washing before soaking.
Riko hung her bathrobe on a corner bamboo rod, keeping the Hontsubo Bell tied to her wrist for safety.
She washed, the woman never turning.
Clean, Riko eased into the pool, water just covering her chest.
The sulfur spring turned milky white in the air, glowing softly under moonlight.
The warm water relaxed her.
Curious, she glanced at the woman, who tilted her head as if admiring the moon.
Her slender frame and graceful shoulder blades were striking.
“Little Riko, you there?”
Seimei’s clear voice came through the bamboo wall.
“Y-yes, I’m here.”
Riko answered, startled, glancing at the woman, who shifted slightly.
“Many people there?
My side’s empty.
Want to come over?”
Seimei’s voice floated with the sound of water.
He loves teasing.
Riko sighed, saying softly,
“There’s one other woman here.”
“Hm?”
Seimei’s tone held a trace of doubt.
He paused.
“How about you come out if you’re done?”
Riko knew he worried about youkai.
About to say she’d check, the woman turned, and Riko’s eyes widened.
“Is that your husband?
You sound close.”
The woman showed half her face, gazing languidly.
Riko had never seen such a stunning face—sultry, bewitching, breathtakingly beautiful, yet with a hint of masculine sharpness, utterly unique.
“Oh, you’re so young?
My mistake.”
The woman looked surprised.
“I-I’m fourteen.”
“Fourteen, huh.”
The woman studied her closely.
Even her casual gaze dripped with captivating charm.
Leaning against the stone-lined pool, she splashed water idly.
“Where are you from?”
“From Omi Province.”
“Oh, Omi.
I’ve been there.
The apricot groves have sweet fruit.”
“You’re not from Himeji?”
Riko asked curiously.
The woman paused her splashing, looking at the moon.
“I come from far, far away.
I have no homeland anymore.”
Her voice was faint, tinged with lingering sorrow.
“Huh?”
Riko blinked.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
The woman splashed lightly.
“My clan is gone; I alone escaped.
I wandered many places, but none welcomed me.
Finally, I crossed the sea to come here.”
“Are you from the Tang Dynasty?”
Riko asked excitedly.
“No.”
“Oh?”
“But you could say I’m from there.”
Her words were vague.
“Why do you look at me like that?
Love the Tang Dynasty?”
“Very much.”
Riko didn’t hide her longing for her ancestral land.
The woman chuckled.
“Seems everyone here loves the Tang.”
She rose, taking a Tang-style robe from the edge and slipping it on, eyeing Riko again.
“We’ve just met, but I like you.
A word of advice: you carry a scent, like it’s from the deep Asura Realm.
But it’s not from you.
If you can, mask it.
Youkai love that smell.”
Youkai like it?
Riko fought the urge to glance at the Hontsubo Bell, asking shakily,
“Who are you?”
The woman paused at the door.
“My old name’s long forgotten.
If I’m to let go, I let go completely.
Now, I’m Tamamo-no-Mae.”
Tamamo-no-Mae?
Riko bit her lip, trembling, hiding her fear.
“Then, farewell.”
Tamamo-no-Mae smiled, leaving barefoot in her clogs.
Riko hugged herself, sinking deeper into the water, only her head above.
Heavens, who was she talking to?
A great fox!
Daji, the legendary nine-tailed fox who bewitched King Zhou of Shang, built wine pools and meat forests, ripped out Bi Gan’s heart, and brought ruin.
Tamamo-no-Mae was her name after crossing to Japan.
Her shallow knowledge ended there.
What Daji did here, she had no clue.
But what was the Asura Realm’s scent?
“You okay?”
Seimei’s voice came from next door.
Riko, neck-deep in water, tried to say “fine” but gurgled.
As she sat up to speak, a rasping breath—hiss, hiss—came from behind.
Hot air hit her neck, her hair standing on end.
She knew she shouldn’t look, but her head turned slowly.
A man’s face hovered, rolling its eyes.
No body, just a fleshy tube stretching beyond the wall.
Riko screamed, diving underwater, head barely out.
The head flinched, glancing around in panic, as if fearing attack.
A figure flashed.
Seimei leapt over, in his navy bathrobe, barefoot.
Standing on the water, he formed a hand seal, then smirked.
“Just a Rolling Head.”
The head retreated in terror.
Seimei changed his seal, and a butterfly shadow landed on the fleeing head, vanishing with it into the dark.
Seimei never glanced at Riko.
After the head disappeared, he stepped lightly to the ground, grabbing a bathrobe with a bamboo pole and passing it back.
Riko, one hand covering her barely concealed chest, grabbed the robe and dressed quickly.
Seimei had rushed over, his wet hair dripping, bathrobe hastily donned, revealing his collarbone and chest.
Hearing silence behind, he turned.
“Ah!”
Riko gasped, covering her eyes.
Seimei glanced down, casually adjusting his robe.
“No worry, just a small youkai…”
His voice cut off as he lunged toward Riko, grabbing only water.
The pool swirled into a vast vortex, a deep black hole at its center.
Riko was gone.
The vortex shrank, soon to calm.
Without a thought, Seimei dove in.
The hole closed behind him, the water still, as if nothing had happened.