Left arm throbbed with pain. The medicinal herbs were seeping through the bandage—the white cloth had taken on a faint yellowish tint. The claw marks from last night's magical beast ran deep. Souichi slowly bent and straightened his arm to confirm it was still usable, then descended the stairs of the Yonabe-tei. The morning streets of Akanagi Town were surprisingly bustling. Market stalls lined the stone-paved roads, and cargo-laden carriages passed back and forth. The smell of fish drifted from a tributary of the Miohyō River, and the fragrant smoke of roasting food tickled his nose from somewhere. Perhaps lodging towns were similar across all worlds—Souichi thought this as he turned his feet toward the market. Today's objective was to procure food. Yesterday, he'd barely managed to scrape together the lodging fee, and his stomach remained unsatisfied. A few copper rings that Yoshino had lent him jingled lightly in his pocket. Near the market entrance, he stopped at a stall displaying dried beans and root vegetables. He was crouching down to negotiate the price when it happened. A scream rose from the direction of the east gate. High-pitched. Not a woman's voice, but that distinctive commotion of a crowd retreating in unison. Souichi turned around. A wave of people flowed backward from the east gate. Merchants ran clutching their wares, a man with a child on his shoulders shouted. The faces of those fleeing were uniformly pale, running without even glancing back. Souichi pushed through the reverse current toward the east gate. His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword. The sensation from last night returned to his fingertips—that feeling of passing through a magical barrier. He didn't understand the logic. But if he could cut through it, he had no choice but to act. Beyond the east gate, Souichi stopped. Blood. Red droplets traced a line across the stone pavement. And beyond that—leaning against a gate pillar, a silver-haired woman was collapsing. Early twenties, perhaps. Her pale skin was stained with blood spatter and dust, her right shoulder torn open and seeping red. Yet her delicate lips were still moving. A faint incantation. From the woman's fingertips, a misty white light spread, and an ice wall roughly two meters high materialized before her. Rising from the stone pavement as if growing from it, sharp and silent. That was *kotoshirube*—the magical system of this world, Yoshino's words echoed in Souichi's mind. Ancient language incantations converted magical power into phenomena; words became weapons. But there was a price. Overuse caused one to lose their voice. Cracks were beginning to spider across the ice wall. The woman's lip movements had clearly slowed. The strength to continue the incantation was running out. Beyond the wall, three shadows. They had human forms, but horns sprouted from their heads. Tails dragged across the ground. Their skin was grayish-brown, their eyes glowing orange. Demons—the race Souichi had heard about from Yoshino last night. An intelligent species with three times the physical ability of humans. And at this very moment, they stood before the cracking ice wall, clicking their tongues and tensing their arms. The cracks spread. "—!" His body moved before his voice could. He drew his sword while running. Through a small gap at the edge of the ice wall—he pushed through. The moment one of the charging demons noticed Souichi's presence, the blade was already in. Just like last night. The blade passed through as if no magical barrier existed. The demon let out a low growl and retreated. The remaining two exchanged glances. There was unmistakable confusion in their movements. "[scared] What is this thing... There's no magical presence. Yet why—!" "[cold] Retreat. Report first." After the brief exchange, all three disappeared beyond the east gate. They moved quickly, but without disorder. Trained movements. Souichi sheathed his sword and turned back. The woman was slowly sinking to her knees on the stone pavement. The ice wall began to melt. A thin mist rose into the morning air that should have brought no warmth. The woman's silver hair swayed within that mist. Long—reaching to her waist, perhaps. Stained as it was, it held a color that seemed to contain light. Souichi reached out to support her wavering form. The woman looked up. Silver eyes. Eyes holding a metallic, cold light. Looking directly at Souichi. Despite her wounds, the blood flowing from her, the exhaustion of depleted magical capacity threatening to topple her—only those eyes remained unwavering. And then. Her lips parted slightly. "...Thank you." Her voice trembled. Clear as water, as if heard from the bottom of a deep pool. But it was definitely trembling. Something deep within Souichi's chest moved, dull and certain. --- He carried the woman back to the Yonabe-tei on his back. She was light. Not that her body weight was insignificant, but because she had no strength. She seemed conscious, pressing her forehead against Souichi's back, barely maintaining her posture. Her breathing was shallow. Blood from her right shoulder wound seeped down to Souichi's neck. When Souichi opened the Yonabe-tei's door, Yoshino, who had been reviewing accounts on the earthen floor, looked up. Her round eyes took in the woman on Souichi's back, then looked at Souichi's face. One second of silence. "[sarcastic] ...You've picked up another troublesome thing, haven't you." "[serious] She was being pursued by demons at the east gate. The pursuers have withdrawn, but she's injured." Yoshino closed her ledger and stood, placing her hands on her hips as she examined the woman carefully. "[serious] The corner room on the second floor is empty today. Use it. The medicinal herbs and clean cloth are on the shelf. The wound isn't serious, but if left alone, she'll develop a fever." With just that, Yoshino started toward the back of the kitchen. Then she stopped. "[gentle] ...If you don't know how to treat it, call me. Well, do your best." Without turning back, she disappeared into the back. Souichi gave a small wry smile. She was meddlesome but couldn't say it straightforwardly. Same as last night's "there are herbs and cloth in your room." This proprietress was probably just that kind of person. The corner room on the second floor was small. One window, one bed, a small low table. Souichi laid the woman on the bed and retrieved the bundle of medicinal herbs and cloth from the shelf. The problem began there. "[serious] I need to clean the wound, so if you could remove your upper garment..." He trailed off, looking at the garment's structure. ...Where exactly was he supposed to remove it from? The woman wore a dull grayish-blue jacket. It appeared simple at first glance, but fine cords ran along the back, connected to fasteners at the shoulders. There seemed to be a front closure, but small metal clasps lined it vertically, and Souichi had no idea which to unfasten or in what order. "(Wait, isn't this too complicated? Is it a puzzle?)" He tried pulling one of the back cords. Nothing changed. He pulled another. Even more confusing. The woman—Gintsuki—watched Souichi's efforts intently. Expressionless. "[serious] ...Where exactly can this be unfastened?" He thought it was a pathetic thing to say, but he couldn't keep fumbling and pulling at random. Gintsuki paused for a moment, then slowly raised her upper body. She gently moved Souichi's hand aside. Her fingers were cool and slender. She reached for the front closure. With practiced movements, she unfastened the metal clasps from top to bottom in order. Her right shoulder wound seemed to cause pain—her brow twitched slightly—but she didn't stop. The front of the jacket opened, revealing a white undershirt. Souichi quickly averted his gaze. But he was a moment too late. The line of her collarbone. The contour flowing from her slender shoulders to her neck—for just an instant, it burned into Souichi's vision. Heat rose to his face. He hadn't expected such a reaction at forty, but the body reacted regardless. "(Calm down. This is medical treatment. Medical treatment.)" He regained his composure and began dissolving the medicinal herbs in warm water. He'd do it the same way he'd treated himself last night. Cleansing, hemostasis, bandaging. That was all. He slowly applied the herb-soaked cloth to the wound on her right shoulder. Cold. So cold that his fingers involuntarily stopped. Not the surface of ice, but something colder from within—as if her skin itself possessed a low temperature. "[surprised] ...Are you always this cold, normally?" The thought had escaped his lips. Gintsuki's eyes lowered slightly. She didn't answer. But she didn't deny it either. After that, no words passed between them. As Souichi wiped the wound, applied the herbs, and wrapped the bandage, Gintsuki remained still. Only her eyes moved quietly, following his movements. Each time his fingers touched near her collarbone to wrap the bandage, that coldness seeped into his palm. A strange sensation. Not unpleasant. Just the kind of coldness that seemed like it would remain in memory forever. As Souichi finished tying the bandage and began to withdraw his hand, it happened. It caught his eye. Below her collarbone, spreading toward her chest—a pattern. Dark indigo, nearly black, with thin branches spreading like roots. Organic and alive in form, clearly not merely a tattoo. Something like a curse given shape— Gintsuki's hand quickly drew her clothing closed. The movement was unhesitating. As if practiced, in an instant, firmly sealed. Souichi looked up. Gintsuki was looking at him. She knew he had seen. She knew that he knew. In those silver eyes, there was neither accusation nor fear. Only—a quiet closing. Souichi didn't press further. He poured the remaining herb water into a bowl and offered it to Gintsuki. "[gentle] Can you drink?" That was all he said, and he waited. Gintsuki paused for a moment. Then she accepted the bowl with both hands. Steam rose between them. Gintsuki looked at Souichi through the steam—and the corners of her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Not quite a smile. But something seemed to ease, just a little. Souichi didn't yet know that this was the extent of her expression. --- When evening came, Yoshino brought out tea for him downstairs. She set the cup on the table and sat across from Souichi, lowering her voice. "[serious] About those who caused trouble at the east gate today." Souichi looked at her while holding his teacup. "[serious] The guards confirmed their armbands. Kukkanhuu—a radical militant faction among the demons. A hundred seventy years ago, when the moderate faction of demons began exploring coexistence with humans, the hardliners who opposed it formed this organization. They follow a dangerous doctrine: humans and witches should decay and return to the cycle. Sightings have been increasing in this area recently." "[serious] ...Witches, you mean?" "[serious] In this world, among women with the talent for kotoshirube, those with particularly powerful magical ability are called witches. About one in twelve thousand people. They have the right to make pilgrimage to Koubuchi—a place witches call sacred—and that's one reason the Kukkanhuu targets them. Unregistered witches have no legal protection, so their position is precarious." Yoshino paused there and looked at Souichi intently. "[serious] That girl is either carrying or knows something very troublesome. If the Kukkanhuu pursues her that relentlessly." "[serious] ...I'm thinking of asking her about it." "[gentle] Whether you get involved is your choice." Yoshino stood and cleared the cup. She said nothing more. Souichi held his teacup in both hands and looked upward toward the second floor. She wouldn't say why she was being pursued. She had a curse-like pattern. Yet at