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Few tasks were more stressful than temporarily taking over a citadel full of distrustful spirits with human bodies.
With a heavy sigh, the inspector set the documents to the side. Chin resting on intertwined hands, she took a look around the stuffy office room. The desk was filled with trash, the rest of the room looking like it was cleaned with great haste, almost as if it was done shortly before her arrival. A subtle, decadent undertone tickled her nostrils as she tried and failed to recognize the components in the mixture of unpleasant residues of odors that occupied the room.
"To think that I would come to investigate a place like this," she muttered to herself.
Her hands were still wet with nervous perspiration, the memory of the fateful decision that she took only mere hours ago still fresh in her mind.
The citadel that she was scheduled to inspect had met her with eerie silence, only a single attendant looking up like a deer caught in headlights when she entered the inner quarters. The attendant had stumbled over words as he informed her of the saniwa's sudden disappearance. That was a first for her, and she pressed further, unable to understand nor grasp the situation at hand. To further worsen the situation, not even a single Konnosuke was around to help with her investigation.
Her hand reached for the communication device.
There is no way a saniwa would go missing without a single trace.
What if...
Her eyes landed on the startled figure of the attendant. His lavender eyes looked hollow, deep bags underneath speaking of a restless night.
Betrayal of one's master meant immediate execution.
Every single soul in this citadel was aware of the consequences.
The hand grasping the communication device relaxed. Slowly, she set it aside, aware that making this decision meant overstepping her boundaries as an inspector.
The weight that seemed to leave the attendant's shoulders went to accumulate upon her own instead.
For now, she dared not look into the deep quarters that belonged to the missing saniwa. Her brief recollection of the first hours spent in the citadel was interrupted when the attendant from earlier announced his presence. She invited him in without further delay.
"As you requested, I have gathered all the documents that I could find before the master's disappearance."
"Ah, yes… thank you..." There was a long pause as the saniwa took a long look at the man.
"Heshikiri Hasebe," the attendant helped their memory, "but please, just call me Hasebe."
She nodded, taking note of the way the lavender eye seemed to twitch a bit at the mention of the name. A problematic case. And it was just the tip of the iceberg. She stole a brief glance at the pile of documents containing information on the citadel's swords.
"I will remember that, thank you," she nodded. "Very well, Hasebe, then I would like to assess the situation."
"Would you not like to unpack your belongings first?" A surprised glance flashed over the attendant's face.
"No, that is fine, such trifle matters can wait."
Nodding to herself, she stood up and walked up to the piles and piles of documents. Unanswered letters, lists of tasks. So many things. She seized the attendant with a firm gaze.
"I was hoping that it would only be a brief investigation but it appears as if the situation is more severe than I thought."
The man called Hasebe averted his eyes, jaw tightening with apprehension.
"Well then, Hasebe, shall we relieve the curiosity of our audience and begin the assessment?"
The attendant's eyes widened as they turned to the tightly closed sliding doors. A moment or two passed before something, or rather someone, seemed to fall. A string of painful cries followed. However, as soon as Hasebe slid the doors open, nobody was in sight.
"Ah, damn, this thing isn't working?"
The rusty water tap let out a string of yowling sounds, quickly confirming her worst fears. With last bits of hope, she gave the valve one last chance to open, and with a pained creaking sound, the offending piece of old steel ripped apart from the old pipe.
Grateful for her quick reflexes, she barely managed to save a falling porcelain cup. She cursed at the wet floor, but luckily, there seemed to be no water pressure at all, saving her humble chamber from a sudden flood in the middle of the night. The moon outside twinkled merrily, almost teasing her for her futile efforts.
Who would have guessed that this run-down citadel would bring so many troubles?
For as long as she could use the daylight, she had been busy sorting out documents, filling in forms and locating missing reports. The last officially signed documents were dated back to a few months ago, but judging by the terrible state of the entries, it was hard to tell when the saniwa last worked in this study.
Hasebe seemed to have gradually relaxed, as she made no further inquiries about the missing saniwa. She opted for not asking any direct questions, knowing full well that the residents would not be able to deliver truthful information without possibly endangering their own lives. The higher-ups wouldn't care for the little details, and everyone knew that it was easier to simply burn the offending place down instead of wasting time on pointless investigations.
Remembering the tired, resolved eyes of Hasebe, she reminded herself to keep her mouth tightly sealed. Proportionally to her efforts to reinstall some sort of order, his mood seemed to lighten, as she found him more and more eager to bring her papers or refill the ink.
The little buds of hope starting to flower in his eyes made her feel guilty.
Her boss always told her not to overcomplicate things.
She sighed deeply.
Perhaps she was not meant for this kind of job.
Presently, a quick glance at the clock on the wall told her that it was too late to call for assistance.
The order for new Konnosuke was just sent out this morning, so it was too early to expect a delivery.
Vaguely, she remembered seeing a spring of sorts in the outside garden area during her brief stroll through the property in the morning. Would she be able to find it in the dark?
Half-blind, she felt the railing as she staggered outside the room. The old wooden bars creaked dangerously, and without further warning, gave in to her weight, her body slipping up and landing ungracefully on a wet patch of grass. Damn it, why was this place so run-down? At least it seemed like everyone was sleeping tightly that night. She thought it a bit odd but decided not to pursue the matter any further.
Cursing her bad luck, she stumbled farther into the garden to look for a fresh water supply. At the very least, she should be able to somehow serve herself a cup of nerve-calming tea. Belatedly she realized that she had no idea where the freshwater supply was located. And even if they had some, would she be able to find it without a single flashlight in hand?
The wet grass made loud, squelching sounds, making her think of the effort it would take to clean her clothes after this unfortunate adventure.
All for a small cup of tea.
Finally, she reached the small pond that she took notice of earlier during the daylight. Small ripples ran across the dark surface, appearing restless, worried even.
However, it must have been all a product of her imagination.
A sudden rustle of the grass surprised her.
Rats?
She flipped around, and froze as her eyes lay on the slim figure that appeared out of nowhere.
A ghost?
She swallowed.
Just as she was about to falter, the thick clouds chose to let through a little of the moon's reflected light, revealing the slim figure of a boy. One of the citadel's residents, no doubt. Overjoyed that she could find at least a single soul that was alive, she called out to the little boy.
Contrary to her expectation, however, he seemed to tense at her friendly greeting. When the moonlight finally allowed her to discern more features on the seemingly bloodless face, she was almost shocked at the sight of a big, starled eye, the other hidden behind long locks of pale hair.
The small pair of lips quivered, and if anything, he seemed to lose even more color, the small frame shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Taken aback, she completely forgot what she came for.
Just in that moment, she noticed another pair of additional eyes light up in the dark, close to the quivering figure.
"Imanotsurugi," a soft voice called out.
The call seemed to break the spell that had been enveloping the small figure.
The little one rushed over to the dark figure, clinging to the loose kimono as if it were a lifeline. In a consoling gesture, the person patted Imanotsurugi's head, before whispering barely audible words.
In the next moment, the little boy was gone.
And, as she was about to question this intruder, the clouds finally revealed the moon, illuminating the beautiful face of Mikazuki, the most priceless treasure. She had heard enough stories to recognize him at once.
His elegant features asked to be stared at, as it was hard to tear away her gaze. So beautiful, and yet…
Just like the clouds that swallowed the moon on a rainy day, his gaze was overshadowed by deep thoughts.
"Don't blame the little one for his rudeness."
"Pardon?" She blinked twice, before finally realizing that he was addressing her.
"He only wanted to tell you not to take the pond's water for your tea. It's spoiled."
His gaze seemed to wander off into the darkness, seeing things that were escaping her human sight.
The morning shook her awake, back hurting from the uncomfortable sleeping position on the table. Her eyes slowly focused on the spilled documents. Last night's encounter seemed like a bad dream. And yet, her dirty clothes, spilled carelessly in the far corner of the room, were proving her otherwise.
She rubbed her swollen eyes.
What did she get herself into?
She had come to perform a routine investigation and yet here she was, trying to at least keep everything from falling apart.
In a swift move, she slid the window open, revealing the day's brilliant sunlight and, as she soon realized, successfully catching a little bird out of guard.
"Uah-!"
Something, or rather someone, fell down from the roof with a loud cry.
"Ah--- that hurt...." The little boy's eyes flew open, finally realizing his predicament. "Ah!"
She instantly recognized the pale boy.
"I- I'm sorry!" he cried out, flinching as she extended her hand towards his small frame.
"It's alright, I'm not mad." She tried to give a convincing smile. After all, it would be nice if she didn't have to deal with fainted little birds this early in the morning. "You were curious, weren't you?"
Contrary to her first impression, Imanotsurugi was much less reserved than the night before. His shyness melted away as he chirped on like the little bird that he was.
Nevertheless, her keen eyes could not help but take note of the tattered, slightly untidy appearance. The clothes seemed to be old, and it was obvious that someone tried and failed to clean and mend them countless times. When the hair locks split apart briefly, she took note of a badly healed scar across the cheek.
Excusing herself, she rummaged through the many drawers, cursing everything and everyone she could think of. After a lengthy and fruitless search, she remembered that she had a box of first aid bandages in her own bag for emergency purposes.
"Here, it's a present."
The little red eyes grew wide with surprise when her guest found his cheek covered by a protective bandage. He touched it carefully, looking at himself in the mirror in mild disbelief, before whipping his head around.
"You are a really nice person!"
All of a sudden, he looked shy, hiding behind the platinum cascade of silky hair.
"You don't happen to have more of these?"
More? What could he possibly need them for?
"I can trust you, right?"
Without waiting for her answer, he grasped her hand.
She was surprised at the sudden gesture, and at the firmness of the small hand that was holding her own.
Stumbling behind, she barely managed to catch up to the little bird flying ahead of her. The small figure led her across the inner garden towards an older building complex, taking sharp turns between old, narrow walls. The old paint was crumbling, the shabby looking walls in need of repairs. They stopped in front of a large, wooden set of doors.
"Hey-ho!"
With a desperate cry, one partition of the doors gave in and slid to the side. Damp, stuffy air hit her face.
"I do my best to ventilate it sometimes," Imanotsurugi explained sheepishly, before disappearing inside.
The insides seemed familiar to her. However, realization finally dawned upon her when she entered a room full of human-sized capsules. Most of those were broken, the control panels full of fine dust. It was hard to tell when this room was last used.
Imanotsurugi was leaning over what appeared to be the last functioning capsule device.
The faint bluish light was illuminating the small face, giving it a sickly hue.
It took all courage that she had not to shake at the sight behind the glass.
The body was embedded carefully inside. Clearly, the person that took care of the process attempted to at least make it look presentable, and failed in the process.
The eyes on the pale face were closed peacefully, suggesting that despite the deteriorated state of the body, the inhabitant of the capsule was not experiencing any sort of discomfort, at the very least. Somebody must have cleaned the skin and the red locks of hair. It would have been hard to tell whom the ravaged large body belonged to, if not for the name that appeared on the control panel.
Iwatooshi.
Iwatooshi was a famous naginata, one that she remembered from some of her brief lessons about history. And if she remembered it correctly, then he was connected to Imanotsurugi, explaining why he was the one to lead her here.
Her thoughts kept racing. There was no way that a functioning citadel would have troubles with repairs.
A quick look told her that the repair process was halted indefinitely due to a lack of resources. At the very least, the capsule was able to maintain the person inside without allowing the body to die.
Her hand landed on Imanotsurugi's shoulder.
"I need you to tell me everything that you know."
They shared a firm glance. Finally, he averted his eyes.
"Yes, I understand," he whispered softly. Then, unexpectedly, his gaze turned sharp.
"Mikazuki-sama was right about you. So I will trust you."
Her hands typed away furiously, entering digits into cells and pressing enter to calculate new numbers.
The doors to the office opened, revealing Hasebe.
"I apologise for not being able to serve you sooner," the attendant said sheepishly. She motioned for him to let the teapot rest beside the documents, still deeply engrossed in the digits that appeared on her screen.
"It's quite alright, Hasebe. You may leave. I won't need any more assistance tonight, so please rest well."
The doors shut. Her fingers froze, ears listening to the faint sound of footsteps.
When she was absolutely certain that he was out of ear sight, she locked the doors. Swiftly turning around, she observed the saniwa's quarters.
Not a single drawer was left uninspected. She turned the room upside-down, looking into every suspicious-looking hole, taking out every book that she could find in the small library.
Finally, she looked at the old wooden floor leading to the garden area. One board caught her eye, the color seemingly a little different than its neighbors. She was able to lift the board without a single sound. The wood gave in too easily, revealing a small hidden space.
She took out a small package, one of the many that were stored underneath the old floor.
The silvery dust twinkled merrily, promising a good time to whoever would be brave enough to dare and try.
A single drop of sweat rolled down her neck.
She felt restless.
For the whole evening, she found herself walking back and forth across the office room.
The evidence of the saniwa's corruption left little doubts, but what about the saniwa themselves? She doubted that they left the citadel on their own, knowing full well about the effects of the substance they found earlier. The hidden stash must have cost them a fortune, and it was hard to believe that the saniwa would have left it after going through extra work to obtain it.
A few times already, her hand reached for the communication device. Yet, every time she was unable to send the message to the main office. Deep inside herself, she understood that at some point, there must have been a body. Somewhere. Somehow. And yet, her feeling told her that not a single piece would be found. Not a single bone left. Disposing of a body was easy, provided that one had the right tools.
Her gaze fell on the list of the citadel's residents.
"The rain would wash away all evidence, of course," she whispered to herself. "The birds would pick at the flesh, the tigers would eat the bones." And did it even matter?
There were no Konnosuke to record the saniwa's crimes. Were they sold or discarded in the nearby mountains? A last resort to keep the rundown citadel afloat? Or was it to pay for the forbidden pleasures of the citadel's owner? Even if she wanted to, she could not possibly gain enough trust to ask all these questions.
And would the main quarters even care to hear the truth?
All that she knew was that the saniwa was no more.
Feeling a gaze upon herself, she looked up, meeting the gaze of Mikazuki Munechika. Although the doors were locked, she found that it was useless to demand how the sly old man has managed to find his way in. It was not important, anyway.
Mikazuki looked at her, seemingly knowing that she had already made up her mind a long time ago. Seeing own reflection in those eyes, she felt that she found her resolve.
Although she knew that Mikazuki was a biased spectator, she found that talking to him was the best she could get.
Finally, she said, "they were not killed, I'm certain."
His gaze turned sharp.
"Oh? What makes you think so?"
The crescent moons were following her every move. Briefly, she recalled the guilty looks some of the residents hoped to hide. The hopeful, happy faces.
"They were unable to do it, until the very end."
Even when it got hard. Unbearable.
"The saniwa tried to dump the stuff into the pond, didn't they?"
Mikazuki's tight smile was all she needed to prove her suspicions. She continued her monologue.
"It was during the night, when they received the message from the main base about the coming inspection."
Of course, they wanted to get rid of the evidence.
For a brief moment, Mikazuki closed his eyes.
"It happened very suddenly. Human bodies are very fragile, as you already know. In their haste, they fell down."
There could not have been any other outcome.
"Naturally, nobody came out to help," she finished for him, recalling the eerie silence that she experienced the night of her small endeavor.
"There was no other choice, don't you think so?"
"I know, " she answers firmly, "now... I know."
She looking him straight in the eye.
"That night, were you and Imanotsurugi spying on me?"
"What a way to phrase it," he laughed at the suggestion. "Rather, I would prefer to say that we watched over you, just in case."
She nodded, acknowledging his answer.
"Even so, I am sure that you will make the right choice, master."
Her ears twitched at the misplaced word. She looked up, only to meet with a pair of moons gently laughing at her surprised face.
"Oh, have I spoken too soon? My apologies, then."
What a strange spirit Mikazuki was, she thought at that moment. Yet, deep inside, she understood what he meant.
Who would want to take over a place with a questionable history?
Who, if not her, would care for a citadel with a rotten past?
For some reason, Mikazuki already knew the answer.
"Did you know, Hasebe."
She raised her voice early in the morning, as soon as the attendant let himself in with breakfast and a fresh cup of tea.
The man in question looked up, tense with apprehension.
"The nearby mountains ae supposedly famous for being very dangerous in this season."
The gears in his head turned slowly, before realization finally dawned upon him.
"Yes, that is correct! It is indeed a very dangerous place."
With final resolution, she took the freshly brewed cup of tea, bringing it to her lips.
"Would you mind if I asked you to bring me the communication device? I believe we have a report to send to the main quarters."
Only a week later, she found herself unpacking the new arrivals and sorting out first assignments. Although they were still unable to perform difficult repairs, at the very least they could start with simple missions. Naturally, the citadel was in chaos, and the office was constantly flooded with new documents, reports or residents asking for an audience.
In the end, however, she thought that this type of work suited her. And perhaps, some time in the far future, she and the others could even start to call this place their home.
However, a sudden realization hit her, as she looked at the list of available residents again and again.
Unable to find the name that she was looking for, she turned to her attendant.
"Is this an outdated list? It seems like it is missing the records of Mikazuki Munechika."
Hasebe looked up, surprised. "Master, there is no sword called Mikazuki Munechika in this citadel."
She blinked, as if in a daze, before slowly setting the list aside and turning her attention to the sealed containers with new Konnosuke.
"Right. How do you open these capsules again?"