As they got closer to the beach, the puppets became more numerous. They appeared in pairs, then trios, but never more. Like allied background NPCs, they chattered amongst themselves. Unlike in games, though, they didn't get weaker in groups; they were as strong as the lone puppets and moved in deadly units.
They had to work smarter and sometimes use Yasu as bait. Nanae and Hisako would wrangle a single puppet from the others, then Eiji would use Stinger to help pin the puppet to be destroyed.
The beach itself was devoid of puppets. The only thing there was the traditional Door, slightly opened like before.
Hisako made a noise of discomfort—the only sound save for the rhythmic lap of the waves and the squish of wet sand underfoot.
It was either paranoia or she really was sensing something awful; either way, her stomach churned and her neck prickled. She felt the alien pressure to shed her constricting skin and become something better.
"Do you feel that?" Eiji whispered.
He rubbed at his neck, slowly welling with beads of sweat. Nanae eyed the motion, a frown creasing her lips. Yasu looked the same—tense and uncomfortable. Hisako felt an organic discomfort well in the back of her mind.
"Are you alright?" Hisako asked him.
He glanced at her with hollow eyes, a far cry from the sincere but withdrawn looks from before. "I haven't noticed any difference."
Eiji's expression was raw pain. Sympathy burned in his eyes, as it did in Nanae's; however, her face was steeled and determined.
"Well then?" Nanae crossed her arms and stared down the Door. "I didn't stop being a Doorkeeper when I lost my Door."
"You shouldn't…" Yasu smiled something meek and desolate. "My Door is A-Rank, and I'm only E-Grade."
E-Grade. Hisako had kind of assumed he was higher up in the food chain, but that was an assumption from how she understood the big clans.
Rather, how she understood the Sasakis.
Clearly the Kimuras were a different kind of… whatever the Sasakis were. A different kind of Doorkeeping beast.
"You're not ready," Yasu continued.
Hisako saw Nanae hold back an eyeroll. "Are you ready?"
"I'm trying," he replied quietly.
"The cat is out of the bag," Nanae said dryly. "It's not a matter of trying anymore. It's either 'do' or 'don't,' and 'don't' isn't the correct answer."
Yasu glanced at Hisako for help, a little slide of his big, anxious eyes.
"You don't have to believe in yourself," Hisako said. "But I'd like for you to believe in us."
"You're all, what, E-Grade?"
"D," Nanae corrected.
"We're E," Eiji replied.
"That doesn't inspire confidence. We should just wait for Okumura-san to come with reinforcements."
"We don't need to beat the Door," Hisako reminded him. "At the very least, we need to help you close the Door."
He stared at them, then glanced at the ajar Door. "Easier said than done."
"I'm only worried about the 'done' part of this," Nanae said. She turned to Eiji. "You can take that off.
Eiji shrugged off the radar unit and prepared himself, looping Stinger across his hands.
Hisako hefted Toraichi.
"I—" Yasu began.
Hisako cut him off. "We're all Doorkeepers here. We go in, and we go together as a team."
Yasu hesitated, then nodded, fists clenching and face relaxing into the familiar look of a prepared Doorkeeper's calm. "Alright."
They approached the Door. It was simple, made to slide along a track on the floor. A wooden frame with a paper body, painted and rather elegant up close.
Some kind of war scene was laid out in fine brushstrokes and careful ink. Colorful yet reserved. Hisako's eyes caught on the saturated war banners and armor of the two sides. One side was bathed in rich blacks and purples, and the banner read "Sano." The others were in the rich forest green Yasu wore.
"This is a very fine fusuma," Nanae said as she approached. "With a very historical yamato-e." Her gaze held more than her matter-of-fact tone.
Yasu explained haltingly. "It's based on a real door in the, uh, Kimura historical archive."
Hisako leaned in to examine the Door more carefully. The warriors on the Sano side were armed with gunpowder weapons, and a horse-drawn cart had a small mounted cannon. On the Kimura side, they were armed with simple weapons—mostly longbows, spears, and staffs. Unlike the Sano, none were on horseback. They wore different sets of mismatched wooden armor over their green garb and various animal masks.
"Did this… go well for your family, Yasu?" Hisako couldn't help but ask.
"My family won," Yasu replied. He smiled a little, weakly but proudly.
"It's a very famous clash," Nanae said. "The powerful Sano, armed to the teeth with new-age weapons, taken down by a small army of farmers."
"How?" Eiji asked.
"My family isn't meant to have big fancy weapons. Our strength is meant to be innate."
"The Sano ego never recovered," Nanae humorously mentioned. "The fanciest weapons couldn't beat the raw natural gift of the Kimura."
"Gift, yes…" Yasu echoed. "But never easy."
Nanae's eyes softened. "No. Never easy." She reached out to hover over the charging Kimura. "Nature's gift, man's intelligence. The Kimura…" She looked to Yasu to continue.
"The Kimura are called the Beastmen of the Doorkeepers," he said. "Borrowers of nature's powers."
"Beastmen, so… your aunt…" Hisako said.
He shrugged weakly. "The moniker is a bit literal."
Hisako could only imagine a fox in a green kimono. A kitsune, perhaps. She glanced at the Door; perhaps she'd find out.
"Do you have a cool name yet?" Hisako asked.
He shrugged. "There's one waiting for me, but it's bad luck to say it before it's earned."
Hisako nodded. "Soon, then."
He met her smile hesitantly and with something akin to sadness in his eyes.
He didn't believe yet. He'd already given up. Hisako felt it like a crush to her chest, but it steeled her.
She put her hand on the lip of the Door. "We go in. Ready?"
They nodded, Yasu long after the others did, and Hisako threw the Door wide open.
She went in first, Toraichi bared and body tense and ready.
On the other side was a stage—a classic theater with cushions on the ground below a slightly raised wooden stage. The stage itself was vast, with layers of hand-embroidered curtains that would be closed to provide scenic backdrops. Endless rows faded into the darkness beyond the stage's lights. She looked out over the audience and saw puppets draped in rich Kimura green kimono, each unbearably judging yet blank-faced.
Behind her, the backmost curtain was shut behind Hisako, depicting the countryside with rice paddies and mountains. Heavy wooden set pieces depicted war-torn rocks and burned-down trees.
"The battle from your Door," Eiji noted quietly. He spun Stinger cautiously. "What's going to happen?"
Yasu raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A burning orange stage light made him glow golden.
Up on one of the rocks, a puppet emerged. A clean pale blue light bloomed to highlight her. If the puppets in the audience were nobles, she was the queen. Her kimono was so long and billowing it was impossible to walk in, and the green was laced with gold that glittered in the spotlight. She had a flowing russet wig, a slender, feminine face, and golden jewelry. Across her eyes was a red mask that evoked the kitsune masks at festivals.
A far cry from a "Demon Fox."
She moved suddenly, snapping into a shy, demure pose but one undoubtedly for show. A shrill giggle echoed from the rock, as if a speaker was hidden within.
"Is the pup ready for the Dance of the Valley?" the voice asked.
"Yes," Yasu gritted out.
"Again, pup?" it giggled. "We'll see."
The body didn't move, even as the voice laughed again. Hisako decided she didn't want to see a real puppet show.
More spotlights clicked on, focusing on a gaggle of puppets emerging from the shadows offstage. They were pulled right from the war-painting, Sano colors and all.
They approached in pairs, sauntering slowly. Hisako raised Toraichi.
"Let me lead, please. It's the only way to pass," Yasu said quietly, a nervous smile on his lips. "I'm the star, after all."
"What about your weapon?" Nanae asked.
Yasu shrugged off his yukata, revealing a simple dark green undershirt. He wasn't as visibly muscled as Nanae and Hisako, but when he moved, his muscles worked underneath his wiry form. He quickly stretched into a ready position.
"When I earn it, I'll have it," he replied. "Until then, I don't deserve it."
Nanae nodded, and they all prepared themselves.
"Let the show begin!" the fox-woman puppet cried.
Hisako backed Yasu up alongside Nanae. They flanked him, following up each of his attacks and punishing each attack upon him.
He blocked swords and knives effortlessly in his open-palmed dance. Hisako saw the intense focus in his eyes and the programmed nature of his breathing. His movements were Nanae's disciplined style dialed up yet different.
The snaps in his movement were follow-through flourishes where hers were strikes. His dodges and counters were smooth and flowing. Hisako briefly entertained the thought of guessing what his weapon was, but she needed to focus.
A knife-wielding puppet slipped past Yasu, and she batted it with Toraichi to Nanae, who slammed it into the stage so hard the ground shook. Yasu briefly caught the interaction as he ducked under a swinging blade.
Hisako, in return, watched as his hands spun around the offending puppet's hands and wrenched it down to stomp and finish the job. The wave subsided after a few more takedowns, and the fox-woman puppet clicked as it shifted into a new position.
A fan snapped from its billowing sleeve, and it mechanically waved it, its wrist clicking rhythmically.
"That's the first act," it sighed. "Congratulations, Yasu-chan." Its head tilted, and Hisako could only imagine an ugly smile in place of its rigid, red-painted lips. "But you know what comes next. Let's do our best, okay?"
It cackled as its hand rose. A weapon lowered from the ceiling on thin, transparent wires. A golden staff with an ornate head—a finial—and jingling rings. She'd seen it before, in old movies and shows. It was a wooden tool for monks, but this version was all metal.
"A shakujou," Eiji breathed. "How… interesting."
Yasu received the weapon with two hands. He shuffled it between his hands to find a comfortable handhold on it.
"When the leader appears, only I can fight him," he said. "You can't help me."
The fox-woman puppet snapped the fan loudly shut, and another, larger wave surged forth. They emerged from the shadows of the curtains and the edge of the stage like a writhing wave.
It was eerie. An army was charging them, and the only sound in the air was the clatter of their joints and the clashing of their weapons.
Hisako lost sight of the others. She spun on her heels, barely holding steady ground as she flung Toraichi around. With so many enemies, they couldn't dodge her or brace themselves against her slashes. They were cut down far more easily than before, but they were also too numerous to all dodge.
She dragged puppets into the paths of enemy blades, restricting her own damage to scrapes and shallow slashes.
It was a whirlwind of limbs, claustrophobic and nerve-eating. It felt like being back in Kohaku's Door. The hands—countless, infinite hands—made her heart beat quicker than it ought to, making her breaths come sharp and short.
She forced the panic down, reveling in the control over her every muscle as she danced through the melee. Damage was inevitable, she told herself, but control was her choice.
She tore through one puppet and found herself face-to-face with another. A large one in bolder, fancier Sano armor. She froze at its apparent lack of aggression—it wasn't winding up for an attack with its massive gauntlets.
Instead, it opened its clenched fist. She flinched back, then her eyes widened at the spark within.
A bright flash exploded from its hand before she could even think to guard. Her eyes burned fiercely, and she felt herself get thrown over the fray with a wave of overwhelming warmth. She hit the heads of puppets and flopped against a curtain before falling to the ground.
She scrabbled for Toraichi before realizing she'd dropped it back where she'd been fighting. It was only a few meters away, but even as she blinked, she couldn't see it or anything else—just the burned image of the exploding light in a puppet's palm.
Hisako grabbed at the curtain to guide her way back to her feet.
"What was that?" she croaked.
She felt sunburnt, face warm and lips dry. She licked her lips weakly, hands reaching to find herself.
A puppet grabbed her, and she instinctively dropped to the ground, hearing the sound of fabric tearing above her—she'd dodged a blade of some kind. She grabbed out and found an ankle, yanking it down with her to spin-kick and smash her ankles through its torso.
She kept blinking, the burning of her eyes subsiding slightly but not returning her sight. Another body bumped into hers, and she jumped, flipping upside down and landing on the ceiling to catch her bearings. Her boots kicked against stage lights, and she stumbled on the rails they sat along.
Below her, she could hear the melee evolving. There were gewer plain puppets, but more intense fighting. The sounds of her friends fighting were more labored and frantic, and she heard the sizzle of heat and the shouts of surprise at the big puppet's attacks.
The next mini-boss had arrived, and she was clinging, blind to the ceiling.
She gritted her teeth and re-summoned Toraichi.