"Huh? The sun is already coming up?" Watanabe's booming voice shattered the quiet morning air.
Yorimitsu's gaze shot upward. Sure enough, the very first pale rays of dawn were stretching across the cloudy eastern horizon, cutting through the morning mist.
'How is this possible?' Yorimitsu wondered, his brow furrowing deeply. 'We were inside that establishment for only a short while, a matter of minutes, surely. Did her Onmyōdō distort our very perception of time alongside our senses?'
His gaze swept across the dirt road stretching out before them. All along the street, the wooden shutters of surrounding houses groaned open, and windows clattered as the villagers began to awaken. The metallic clanking of heavy locks being undone echoed down the alleyways, followed by the soft, fluttering rush of thick privacy paper blinds being dragged away from the windows.
As soon as the front doors swung open, a chorus of soft, metallic chiming filled the air, dozens of wind chimes and protective talismans swaying in unison under the eaves.
'Protection charms,' Shion observed silently, her eyes tracking the swaying paper wards.
"Oh, heavens… not another one," a hushed, trembling murmur rippled through the emerging crowd.
"And this time, the entire house was burned straight to the ground."
"Damn it all! Why haven't those lords in the capital sent anyone to purge these Yōkai yet?" a middle-aged farmer spat, his voice thick with building rage. "Is all they know how to do take our crops and conscript our sons into their endless wars? Curse those bureaucrats!"
"Ah, what's worse is that it was poor old Makoto-san's place…" an elderly woman whimpered, clutching her shawl tight against her chest. "Oh, how miserable… first she lost her beloved grandchildren, and now she's gone, too. This world is surely turning into hell."
"Indeed," another man muttered grimly, his shoulders slouched in defeat. "We can barely eke out a living as it is. With these monsters constantly hunting us, it feels like we're nothing more than livestock waiting to be fed to them."
"Hey, wait! Look over there! There are people standing near the ruins of the house!"
"Huh? I think you're right."
"Look at their uniforms… those are definitely the uniforms of the Hiko!" a woman gasped, her face lighting up with a sudden, desperate hope as she began walking quickly toward them. "Have they... have they finally come to save us?"
"How odd," Watanabe murmured, looking over his shoulder as they walked. "Seeing the house burned to ash like this, I would have thought they'd run toward us to find out what happened. But they're keeping their distance. Do you think they're afraid of us?"
"No... I doubt it is fear," Yorimitsu spoke plainly, his pace never slackening as he headed down the centre of the dirt road. "Looking at them, they simply seem to have accepted death as their new reality. Look at the state of those dilapidated, rotting houses over there. This entire village is slowly decaying. We don't have the luxury of wasting time here. Let us move on."
"Look… look! They are coming this way!" another villager chimed in eagerly, nudging their neighbour as Yorimitsu's squad approached.
The crowd parted slightly, holding their breath in anticipation as the squad neared. The villagers leaned forward, mouths open to speak, to beg for aid, or to ask about poor Makoto-san.
But as the two groups came face-to-face, Yorimitsu's squad didn't slow down. Without uttering a single word, without even offering a glance of acknowledgement, they marched straight past the stunned villagers, leaving them behind in the quiet, dusty morning air.
"What...? They are leaving without saying a single word?" hushed, bewildered whispers began to ripple through the crowd. "Were they not here to help us?"
"Maybe they already killed the Yōkai during the night... you heard all that terrible noise coming from the inn, didn't you?"
"Killed the Yōkai, my foot!" another voice chimed in, rising in pitch and bitter anger.
"Hey, be careful! Keep your voice down, or you'll land us all in execution blocks!"
"Oh, fuck if I care anymore!" an elderly man spat. He had thinning, balding hair and wore a rough, threadbare kimono that he hadn't even bothered to stitch back together. He took a heavy step forward, his chest heaving.
"How much do we have to give to those greedy bastards in the capital? More than half of what we grow, sew, and build! It all goes directly to them. We didn't complain. We gave them everything our sweat, our crops, our children, even our grandchildren! Yet they still value us as absolutely nothing!"
The old man stooped down, his trembling hand clawing at the dirt until his fingers locked around a jagged stone.
"Hey, you cowards! Look at me!" the man roared, hurling the stone directly at the back of Yorimitsu's head.
Without even pausing his stride or turning his head, Yorimitsu tilted his upper body a fraction of an inch to the side. The jagged rock whistled harmlessly past his ear, kicking up a tiny puff of dust as it bounced down the road.
"I said, look at me!" the man screamed, his voice cracking as he bent down to scoop up another stone. "Are we not even human to you?! We have given you everything we have! What more is there left to give?! All we ask is that you at least acknowledge our damn existence!"
The old man's roar echoed down the rotting street, raw, broken, and heavy with the weight of a dying village.
"No! You stupid old fool, control yourself! You're going to get us all executed!" The remaining villagers scrambled forward in a panic, desperately grabbing the old man's arms and dragging him backwards before he could throw another stone.
"Yorimitsu-san… are we really going to leave without saying a single word to them?" Watanabe asked quietly, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead as they walked.
"Even if we speak to them, what help will it actually offer?" Yorimitsu replied, his voice calm and even. "Will our words bring back the children they have lost? Will it rebuild their lives?"
"But it would at le—"
"There is nothing more we can do for them, Watanabe," Yorimitsu interrupted smoothly. "Those protection charms hanging from their eaves, though I do not know where they managed to acquire them, are the real thing. They have the means to survive. Those people back there must learn to stand on their own two feet. They need to realise that no one from the capital is coming to save them. Only when they accept that harsh truth can true change finally begin."
'Huh...? I have never seen him like this,' the silent thought rippled simultaneously through the minds of the entire squad.
'I am well aware that Yasumasa sent me out here to build up my reputation as a heroic saviour,' Yorimitsu mused internally, his eyes narrowing as they approached the village limits. 'But I cannot... I won't do it that way. I will forge my own path, on my own terms.'