Ronin's Revenge

Sumire lit the candle by her bedside. She hadn’t been able to sleep for a few nights now thanks to Sayako’s possession, and that feeling of unease was only exacerbated by Himiko’s absence. The other shrine maidens couldn’t carry the same type of comfort that Himiko provided in such a time of crisis, despite her own waning confidence. Everyone else was already beyond wit’s end, so even a struggling maiden was more than sufficient to be a leader.

The sleepless nights really wore on Sumire’s psyche, and as such, the other maidens suggested drinking milk before bed to calm her nerves. Instead of soothing her, however, the so-called solution only made her have to relieve herself in the middle of the night. And so, she prepared for yet another slumber-deprived witching hour.

It didn’t take long before Sumire found herself out into the moonlight at the back of the shrine. Near the edge of the forest, her view was slightly obscured, but she was still able to look up to the night sky and admire the stars spattered across the darkness. Even in such a moment of despair in the nation’s history, the beauty of nature still shone through the horrors. Its grace comforted Sumire so despite her troubles. That is, until an owl spooked her and she hurried about finishing her business.

Having arrived back in the shrine and moving silently amidst her fellow maidens, Sumire began to hear the faint echoes of someone crying. She glanced around the darkened room to see if one of the other girls was also awake. To her surprise, though, everyone seemed to be in a deep slumber. Furthermore, she surmised that the crying was too faint to actually be coming from the sleeping quarters. Rather, it sounded as if the sound was coming from down the hall. Sumire guessed that specifically, the source of the noise was more than likely coming from the main entrance.

“Perhaps it is a wayward soul.” Sumire whispered to herself. She imagined some poor villager entering the shrine to seek asylum from the oni. Seeing as how it was the middle of the night, she figured that someone must have been awake to greet them. Reflecting on it, she supposed it was Sayako’s turn to stay up and offer comforts to travelers. Then, it dawned on her.

“Oh no,” Sumire exclaimed, “Sayako is still tied up in the main hall!” Although her voice was harsher and more panicked, she thankfully didn’t awaken any of the other maidens. Instead, realizing that fate ordained the responsibility to fall on her shoulders, she swiftly yet gracefully tiptoed about the slumbering girls, dancing betwixt the bodies. Softly shifting the shoji open, she exited the room and ventured into the hallway.

Moving toward the main hall. Sumire could hear the crying intensifying, confirming her suspicion that the afflicted party must be near the entrance. The closer she got to the front room, the surer she was that the individual making the noise was female. She sighed in relief, no longer fearing for the safety of said person against the succubus; had it been a man, there’d be no telling what could have transpired.

Sumire opened the door to the main hall to find no one inside; furthermore, the crying stopped as soon as she had appeared. Perplexed, she began to cross the room. Passing one of the pillars, she felt stumped until a whimper came from behind her. Then, she heard a voice ask, “Sumire? Is that you?”

A chill ran down Sumire’s spine. There was no mistaking it; the voice belonged to Sayako. Not the demon possessing her, but rather Sayako herself. Sumire couldn’t believe what she was hearing. A contradictory dual sense of hope and dread filled her spirit. “Sayako.” She muttered without looking back. The desire to look her friend in the eye was nearly overwhelming, yet she feared seeing the oni’s glowing hatred staring back.

“Sumire,” Sayako continued asking, “what am I doing tied up? Why am I naked? What’s going on?!” The whimpering started up again and Sumire realized that it had been Sayako crying all along. She gulped and merely repeated her friend’s name. It was, in truth, all she could muster.

Sayako picked up the lull in conversation and continued, “Please, Sumire, tell me what’s happened. I’ve no memory of how I ended up in this predicament. It’s so cold, and I’m so embarrassed to be exposed like this!” Her whimper turned to crying yet again.

Against her better judgment, Sumire relented and turned around to look at the trapped maiden. Surprisingly enough, her eyes met with her friend’s and she saw the same light brown hue she’d known Sayako to have. An air of confusion and fear reflected in the candlelight and Sumire began to sympathize with her fellow maiden’s plight.

Moving the candle downward, Sumire inspected Sayako’s body. The ropes had left burns on her soft skin, doubtless from the hours of thrashing the succubus had done in an attempt to free herself. Her arms were pimply with goosebumps, confirming Sayako’s complaints of the cold. Finally, lowering the candle further, she noticed the maiden’s nether regions and legs glistening. She returned the light to Sayako’s face and was met with fluster.

“Please don’t look down there!” Sayako exclaimed. “I couldn’t help myself, there was nowhere I could go and it wouldn’t stay in any longer.” She began sobbing in earnest and her cheeks similarly glistened with the cascade of tears. Sumire began to cry herself and quickly wrapped her arms around her fellow maiden and friend.

“Sayako,” Sumire exclaimed, “it really is you! I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this ordeal.” She relaxed her grip on the trapped girl and lifted herself onto her tip toes to kiss Sayako on the forehead. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll get you out of these restraints as fast as I can.” Sayako smiled weakly and said, “Thank you, Sumire.”

And so, Sumire placed the candle on the ground and set about untying the ropes round the column. Her fingers were quite nimble and so she found herself more adept at releasing her friend than even she anticipated. Within mere moments, the first rope fell to the floor, then another followed by the next and so on until Sayako was finally freed.

Sayako wobbled back and forth to recapture her balance after having not needed to rely on her own posture for the past few days. Sumire returned to the front of the pillar to assist her friend, wrapping her arms around Sayako’s waist from behind. Eventually, the freed girl stopped wobbling and placed her hands on Sumire’s arms, gently tugging them until the latter maiden let go.

“Thank you, Sumire.” Sayako said. Sumire nodded, then giggled realizing that her companion couldn’t see her from behind. She fetched the candle and placed it down on the ground beside the pair. Then, she maneuvered herself in front of Sayako. The two looked into one another’s eyes once again before both brimming back to tears. Sayako outstretched her arms and Sumire gleefully reciprocated the gesture, letting herself become enveloped by her dear friend.

Whilst holding on dearly to the other maiden, Sumire felt Sayako’s arms release her body and noticed the other girl’s hands drifting up her back, tracing her spine all the way to the nape of her neck. Sayako’s head tilted back so that her lips rested on Sumire’s ear, her breath warming the inner lobe. It felt as though Sayako’s breath became harsher, as though she were becoming excited.

“Ignorant slut.” Sayako whispered to Sumire. Then, her hands coiled around Sumire’s neck and tightened like a blacksmith’s forge tongs. Sayako jerked Sumire’s head back and the latter gasped as staring back at her were those burning, purple pools of hatred. Sumire tried to mutter something yet couldn’t eke out a single syllable.

“Hush now, Sumire,” The succubus said, “there’s no need to say anything. We wouldn’t want to wake the other maidens now, would we? It’s a shame that my powers aren’t fully restored, so for the moment, you’ll have to settle for being strangled by my bare hands. Or perhaps I should say Sayako’s hands.” The succubus began giggling, though not loudly enough to alert anyone that could help Sumire.

Before long, the fear along with any sign of life left Sumire’s eyes and she fell limp in the succubus’ grip. The oni held the body up for another minute or so just to make sure she wasn’t playing possum, and sure enough, Sumire was dead. Sayako’s puppet master placed the maiden’s limp figure on the floor and grinned wickedly at her handiwork.

Swiftly but stealthily moving down the hall and through the shoji into the sleeping quarters, the succubus adorned a spare outfit belonging to Himiko because, while it technically fit, it did so snugly to accentuate Sayako’s curves, an absolute delight for the demon. Then, she snuck back out, passed by Sumire’s corpse once more while snickering to herself, and left out the front door, into the night. She lifted her head to gaze at the stars and admired their beauty as they bathed her in a sultry light that invigorated her for her next feast.