Chapter Text
Koutarou couldn’t recall the last time she had left her house, though she was certain a few weeks had to have passed since then—or — maybe months? Time was difficult to gauge when you weren’t keeping track.
What wasn’t difficult to gauge, was how unfortunately low her food supply had gotten. She’d known the time was coming when she’d tried to scoop some rice from the bottom of her barrel and came up with splinters. Of course, she ignored the issue for days in favor of sending dirty looks toward the door leading to her storage cellar, as if that would somehow solve the conundrum. Instead, she worked on convincing herself that hey, a single meal a day was reasonable—
Her stomach hadn’t quite gotten the memo.
She’d awoke that morning with a clawing sense of unease in the pit of her stomach, but immediately brushed it aside. Today was gonna be a great day, she decided. She was going to get some housework done, and maybe take a nice bath— or— ooh, the river was probably still too cold for the locals, she could probably even take a dip before—
“ Kou, I’m so fuckin’ hungry I’m gonna eat ya if you don’t get somethin’ in me other than yer nasty-ass rotting potatoes,” multiple voices hissed out in unison. “ Ya feed yer sheep better than us.”
“ That's mean, ” the hissing chorused again, in a higher, almost childish voice.
“ Yeah, shut the fuck up,‘Tsumu. ” This time, they spoke with the same original drawl of the first, albeit a little less whiny. “ Yer acting like a bitch.”
Koutarou felt rather than heard the beginnings of a brawl break out atop of her head. She squawked as they tugged against her scalp.
“ Hey, guys— come on,” she groaned, followed by a wince at another painful yank. “The sun’s barely up.”
She pawed at the top of her head, brushing across several thin, writhing coils until she found her target— the larger two twisting themselves into a knot. She clamped onto the base of their bodies where their scales blended into her skin and desperately began untangling.
The hissing complaints sounded more akin to a roaring whisper,
“ You got us fuckin’ tangled, you god damn idiot,” Atsumu bitched. There was a jolt from the other aggressor at Atsumu’s words.
“Bullshit, you’re the one who always tries to—“
Koutarou groaned miserably. When these two bickered, it was incessant. Her arms had begun to grow heavy with exhaustion, but yet she kept her touch gentle as she guided them in different directions in an attempt to conquer the knot the duo had created. She knew the drill by now: the faster, the better. To make matters worse, the smaller ones had already begun wriggling like worms and were starting to become irksome.
Koutarou expelled a weary sigh when the sisters finally pulled apart, releasing the tension from her scalp along with them.
A scaly white face peeked over the top of her head. Familiar slit eyes stared at her as the viper spoke, “ Thanks, Kou! I thought Myaa-sam might actually kill her this time.” The ‘s’s were drawn out as a forked tongue flicked out past the tiny mouth.
Koutarou smiled weakly at her. The smile shifted to a wince when the kind expression was immediately whacked off her face by another slippery body. Shoyo, the little serpent, had only recently gained sentience and left Atsumu’s collective. She still hadn’t quite gotten control of her own hivemind yet and struggled to not jerk her snakes around. It was fine. Koutarou only got hit in the face like, every other time Shoyo got excited.
“ Though I hate to admit it,” a fourth and final set of voices interjected coolly. Koutarou could picture the large, obsidian-scaled snake eyeing her with disappointment. “ Atsumu has a point. I’m even starting to feel the effects of hunger on my collective— I can’t imagine Shoyo is faring well.”
Koutarou was struck with guilt. She hadn’t considered how her little unintended hunger strike had been affecting her companions. Atsumu had mentioned in the past how difficult it could get to control the underlings under starvation. There was little to no brain power in the collective without one of the heads supplying it to them. Without food, it was as if their connection got faulty, signals misfiring and either sending when they shouldn’t, or refusing to when necessary.
Kiyoomi was right. Shoyo couldn’t be faring well.
Like the champ she was, the little snake piped in again.
“ Oh no, I’m fine, really,” Shoyo insisted. “ I’m not hungry at all!”
And fuck, if that didn’t make Koutarou feel worse. The silence from the others confirmed what Koutarou was already thinking—
Guess I’m going into town today.
-
Pebbles scattered beneath rolling wheels as Koutarou tugged the wooden wagon behind her. It was a clumsier ride than usual; one of the stone wheels had broken off during her last excursion and she’d ended up replacing it with her own clumsy wooden creation. She’d been hoping for the best— that maybe she’d somehow become a skilled carpenter overnight— or that some artisan woodworker would choose that very night to possess her and live out their life-long fantasy of creating a shitty, wooden wheel for a shitty, wooden cart. Of course, she could never be that lucky.
With every creaking rotation, the wheel threatened to give out underneath the weight of the wagon. Koutarou flinched and tried her best to ignore the sound of splintering wood on a particularly tumultuous turn. She prayed the sound wasn’t drawing unwanted attention.
Koutarou had done her best to appear inconspicuous. Plain, dark clothing covered her from head to toe. Unfortunately for her, she’d chosen the worst day possible to go into town: the first day of the spring festival.
The town was always busy, of course, but today the streets overflowed with life. Local and foreign vendors alike caged her in on either side, making the already dense town seem suffocating. Her arms trembled with fear every time another child scuttled past her knees with their hands sticky from sweet tarts and fresh pastries. She shielded her face from their curious eyes. Koutarou wouldn’t be able to cope if she hurt them.
The only benefit of the hustle and bustle was the additional coverage it supplied Koutarou. It was equally a blessing as it was a curse. Though she’d instructed her head of serpents to stay quiet, lisped hisses kept escaping the underlings beneath the hood of her cloak. One here or there wasn’t unusual— but with the ceaseless humming, she would’ve been discovered in a minute if it weren’t for the chaos around her.
She couldn’t bring herself to be frustrated with her companion’s lack of control. This was Shoyo’s first conscious outing, after all.
As she got further into town, the crowd began dissipating. The majority of the festivities and seasonal booths were located in the center of town and ultimately drew the most traffic. She breathed a sigh of relief; she could finally make her first stop. She hadn’t even allowed herself to look around before— it was too risky. But now, she scanned through the scattered booths in quick bursts, pausing to lower her gaze any time a head turned her way.
“Oooooh.” One of the snakes (she assumed it to be part of Shoyo’s collective) began twisting around under the hood at the sound of Atsumu’s words. “ We haven’t had bread in so long, Koutarou—“
And for good reason , Koutarou thought as she warily eyed the bakery hidden behind a pastry vendor. She was reluctant to enter buildings on a slow day in town, but when it was crowded like this? It reeked of disaster.
She ignored Atsumu. She couldn’t— wouldn’t— risk their lives for some food.
Koutarou promptly reconsidered when the scent of freshly baked bread smacked her in the face.
With her hands clutching the wagon handle tight and her head hung low, Koutarou scurried across the street. The clunking sound behind her became deafening in her ears, but she had no choice. Loitering in the road would’ve drawn more attention.
The door was cracked open, a large ‘ WELCOME ’ greeting her. She moved to enter — but was abruptly jolted back by her wagon. After a few seconds, an ungodly splintering sound assaulted her ears.
FUCK .
A quick glance around her shoulder confirmed her fears—
Stupid fucking wagon.
Of course it was too bulky to fit through the door. Of course, like the dumbass she was, she’d failed to notice this and decided to lug the awkward thing in rather than park it outside. And of course , of fucking course, she’d been too eager and cracked the front part of her axle.
By some power of god, the cart was still holding on, but the wobble was even more pronounced than before. The wagon looked lucky to be alive.
She backed her cart up beside the entrance, sending it a distressed look before she made her way inside.
Once past the door, she was immediately overwhelmed with sensation. blistering heat emanated from the ovens in the back, making her skin feel like rising dough, as if she had actually entered one of the ovens. As expected, the smell was even stronger inside.
As much as she wanted to burst her way through the crowd and slam her fist on the counter demanding some of that god damn delicious smelling bread right fucking now , the situation required a tad more subtlety. Instead, she took her place behind the long line of people who’d also been lured by the scent.
A sense of trepidation ticked at her the longer Koutarou spent in there. The other guests kept knocking against her, murmuring soft, ‘ pardon me’s and ‘my bad, dear’ as they failed to notice her compulsive flinch from the contact. She kept her head low, but even that wouldn’t shield her from the rising hisses from her hood. Koutarou soon started to regret her impulsivity.
Her body had caught on that this was a bad idea before her brain did. Subconsciously, she’d started backing up toward the sole exit, only to feel the weight of another person slam against her.
“ Hey, watch it!” Koutarou startled at the aggression in the woman’s voice. With most of her vision obscured by the hood and her eyes lowered, she might as well have been blind. She relied on her hearing— and right now, it was failing her.
Panicking, she started to back up in another direction, only to hit another blockage.
“The fuck’s wrong witya?” A gruff voice snarled. “Quit actin’ like a fuckin’ moron.”
She swallowed dryly, unsure she could talk if she even wanted to.
“Yer s’posed to speak when someone’s talkin’ to ya,” he said, huffing. Her dread immobilized her. She’d managed to turn her back to him, but inevitably left herself vulnerable in the process. His damp, rotten breath blew over her shoulder, replacing the fresh smell of the bakery.
Koutarou raced to escape. Shouldering her way through the crowd, ignoring the affronted cries and disdain, she launched herself through the door while simultaneously snatching the handle of her wagon. She carelessly yanked it toward the road, but in her haste was destructive.
CRACK.
Her thundering heart stopped altogether at the finality of the sound. Slowly, she peeked over her shoulder.
The damage was catastrophic-- at least, for the possibility of a quick roadside rig. The entire front of the wooden axel had split down the middle, and of course, it took the shitty wooden wheel with it. Even worse, the impact of the wagon body hitting the cobblestone had apparently been too much to handle. Much like the axel, it broke in half.
“ No, ” she wailed. She’d had this wagon for nearly a decade-- had spent months skipping dinner to save up for it. And sure, it was a little shoddy, but it was hers god damn it.
How was she supposed to save up for another one? Worst case scenario, she knew she could lug back some food for her family, if not a little less than usual. But long-term? It just wasn’t realistic. The older she got, the more food she needed, and unfortunately, her snakes were the same.
Money had been tighter than usual. Going into town to sell her wool had gotten riskier and riskier in recent years. She wasn’t so small anymore-- couldn’t just sneak in and sneak out without anyone noticing her anymore. The last time she’d been in town, Koutarou had caught the whispers of those around her.
“ I hear she’s the demon,” they said. Koutarou had carefully kept her back turned despite the way her blood had run cold at these words.
“ What? That’s silly-- they killed it years ago,” followed by a hearty chuckle.
“ Yeah? Then I bet you’ll have no problem pulling that hood off, if you’re so certain.”
Koutarou wasn’t sure if they were bluffing. She hadn’t stuck around to find out.
And these instances had become increasingly more common, until Koutarou could barely step foot in town without hearing a whisper or two.
Maybe that was why she’d let the food supply get so low this time.
To her horror, the familiar sound of scattered whispers began around her.
“Who is that fool?”
“Why are they making such a scene?"
“Is that it? ”
“ Are you sure? Should we call someone just in case?”
And then finally, a closer whisper, one atop her own ahead.
“ I think we should go, Koutarou.”
Kiyoomi’s words were all it took for her to bolt.
Wind pelted on her face as she ran against the breeze, as if it were trying to push her back, telling her she needed to go back and get food, because what else was she going to do? Tears began to bead in her lashes, blinding her. She almost stumbled, until she heard a yell behind her and picked up the speed.
Koutarou always did her best to never stray too far into town. See, she had a routine. Go in, hit some outdoor stalls, and get the fuck out of dodge before she caught any wandering eyes. She’d never had a reason to get all that familiar with the residential area of town, and she was coming to realize how dangerous this unfamiliarity was.
The longer she ran, the bigger the houses seemed to get, and unfortunately, the broader the roads-- apparently rich people get the best of it all. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere. Nowhere, of course, if you weren’t willing to jump into someone’s backyard.
As she passed what looked like a fucking castle, a glimmer caught her eye.
Iron fencing?
It seemingly surrounded a farm-- or maybe a large garden, of sorts. Koutarou couldn’t quite tell. Either way, it was the first thing she’d seen in a few miles that didn’t look populated, and the sound of clambering footsteps hadn’t gotten any farther away.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Koutarou flung herself over the fence.
She yelped in pain as a sharp point of the fence caught on her cloak, scratching her as it tore at the fabric. Her entire hood was flipped off her head in the fall and the collection of snakes immediately sprung into the air like a bunch of hissing daisies.
She scrambled up, eyes wide in terror at the exposure. For a moment, sinking dread overcame her.
Had they seen her?
Her shoulders dropped at the sound of running footsteps a few seconds later; they were still chasing her ghost in some other direction.
Thankfully, Koutarou had tumbled onto the other side of an enormous bush. She’d just narrowly avoided hurting anyone.
“ Bork bork bork! ”
She shrieked. All of her collective went ramrod straight in the air-- an absolutely humiliating defense mechanism. To make matters worse, as she spun around, her arms floundered through the air.
All her breath left Koutarou’s lungs in an instant. Doors opened. Puzzle pieces slid into place. The tidal waves drew back-- and erupted onto the sand, blowing away everything in her path.
“Hello?” said the love of Koutarou’s life, softly.