The rain had ceased before dawn. Sakuya stood beside the Genbu well, feeling the lingering resonance of the ritual prayers drain from her body. The ceremony had concluded without incident. The spiritual vein's energy had been pacified. Yet the young man who had stood at her side—Aozuki—remained etched deeply within the chambers of her mind. A hundred years past. In that distant time, a sorcerer of the Shimotski clan had surrendered his heart to a demon and forged a forbidden pact. The calamity that cascaded from that betrayal was called the Blood Smoke Covenant—the rupture of a contract sealed in blood between demon and human. As a result, the entire lineage had nearly perished. All of it—the words of the past, her father's words, the family law—pressed upon Sakuya's heart with unbearable weight. Morning arrived. In the main hall of the Shimotski estate. Within a tatami room divided by sliding doors, Sakuya sat in formal seiza. Across from her sat Akiyoshi, the family head. From his robust frame, now in his mid-fifties, rose an authority that time could never diminish. Hair streaked with white, eyes sharp as blades. In his countenance dwelt the weight of a man who had governed the Shimotski for thirty years. "The spiritual vein pacification ritual last night. Were there any disturbances?" A low voice, austere and clear. It was less a question than a confirmation. In that instant, Sakuya's heart beat violently. The image of Aozuki flashed across her mind—his silver hair illuminated by moonlight, the deep azure of his eyes. Yet this tremor must not reach her face. Training. Years of discipline. The perfection demanded of an onmyoji froze her expression into stillness. "Yes, Father. There were no disturbances whatsoever." The words were a lie. Her heartbeat quickened further with that falsehood. Perspiration began to seep into her palms. She must be perfect. As the daughter of this house. As a sorcerer. Yet something within her trembled with violent force. "I see." Akiyoshi nodded. Yet his gaze had not lost its power to pierce through her. "There is information you must know. Recently, there have been traces of demons near the spiritual vein. Likely, a demon connected to the Blood Smoke Covenant of a hundred years past. The Shimotski must remain vigilant." With those words, Sakuya's hands trembled faintly. The tea bowl she held tilted slightly. The tea within began to ripple, almost imperceptibly. That sound, though small, resonated like thunder in the silence of the room. "Sakuya. What is wrong?" Her father's voice grew lower still. Doubt had already begun to color his words. "Forgive me. My hand merely slipped." Sakuya hastened to steady the bowl with both hands. The gesture appeared hopelessly unnatural. Yet the servants who served as her mother, her brother, her cousins—none were present. Only the family head Akiyoshi and his youngest daughter remained. Akiyoshi's gaze bore down upon her more intensely. That look seemed to penetrate every crevice of her being. "...Very well. Be more careful." Akiyoshi spoke at last. Yet Sakuya knew. She knew that within that silence, her father's suspicion had settled like sediment. Something had caught upon his heart. Something certain. "The law of human and demon separation—the family precept our Shimotski have upheld through generations, forbidding all private intercourse between demon and human. Romance with demons. Contracts. Marriage. All are strictly prohibited. Those who break the law are subjected to the Mourning Mark Ritual—a ceremony that seals one's spiritual power eternally—and cast out from the clan. You understand this." "Yes. I understand completely." As those words left her lips, Aozuki appeared in her mind once more. The forbidden demon. That young man who had smiled at her. And the hairpin hidden upon his arm—a slender silver ornament, glowing faintly as if touched by moonlight. (To those who seek perfection. Sometimes, imperfection too, is beautiful.) Those words still lingered in her chest. "The fate of those who broke the clan's law is a sorrowful one. Once, there was a sorcerer who surrendered his heart to a demon. That person brought ruin so complete that the entire lineage nearly perished. That is the Blood Smoke Covenant. When a blood contract between demon and human ruptures, cursed energy is released from both sides, and calamity descends upon the sorcerer's entire bloodline. This is why the law exists. Do you comprehend?" "I comprehend." Sakuya nodded quietly. Her expression showed no disturbance. Yet within, the waves of conflict rose higher still. The meeting continued. On the disturbances in the spiritual vein. On the recent increase in strange occurrences. On relations with the Ministry of Spiritual Affairs. Yet those words reached Sakuya's ears as distant, faint whispers. Aozuki occupied all her thoughts. That demon bound by a hundred years of solitude. And yet, how could he smile with such warmth? "See that you do not forget. Upholding the law is the duty of those of this house." "Understood." At last, the meeting drew to a close. Sakuya left the hall and made her way to her own chamber. As she walked the corridor, multiple thoughts swirled within her mind. She had lied to her father. She carried a secret that might break the law. And Aozuki—she could not forget him, no matter how she tried. She closed the door to her room. She sank to the floor. A deep breath escaped her. In that moment, relief and guilt washed over her like waves. Before her father, she had played the role of the perfect daughter, but now that mask had fallen away. What was her true self? A sorcerer faithful to duty? Or a weak girl drawn toward the forbidden? "What am I doing?" The whisper echoed into emptiness. Beyond the window, the morning sun began to illuminate the thick clouds. That light grew gradually stronger, and soon painted the pines of the garden white. Yet even that light could not reach Sakuya's heart. (Aozuki.) She called that name within her mind. Again and again. She gripped the hairpin. The silver ornament hidden at her left wrist, glowing faintly as if touched by moonlight. It was the only thing she had received from Aozuki. The sole gift from a demon who had lived a hundred years in solitude. If she broke the law, what would become of her? Would the Mourning Mark Ritual strip away her spiritual power? Would she be cast out from the clan? If so, she would become nothing—neither an onmyoji nor a member of the Shimotski. Yet she could no longer imagine a life without seeing Aozuki. The lie spoken in that dawn hall. Her father's suspicious gaze. All of it brought new tension to Sakuya's heart. The weight of keeping secrets. And where that secret would lead her—that destination remained unseen. Sakuya held the hairpin quietly. It was neither cold nor warm. It simply existed. Bearing the weight of the forbidden.