"Sister, don't go. Sister, don't leave me. Sister… Sister…!"
On the hospital bed, the young man who had been lying in a coma for two days suddenly thrashed violently, his face drenched in cold sweat. His arms waved through the air as if trying to seize something slipping away from him, his hoarse voice breaking into a desperate cry.
A young nurse, dressed neatly in the uniform of the Butterfly Mansion, had been quietly cleaning the ward. At the sound of his sudden outburst, she dropped her cloth and rushed to his side. Her eyes widened in shock, and then delight flickered across her face.
"He's awake! He's really awake! Seiji, Kosui, hurry—go tell Miss Shinobu, this boy isn't dead after all!"
Her voice carried into the hallway. Another girl bolted away to fetch help, while a second, Kosui, came forward to stand uncertainly at the bedside.
The boy's lips moved, trembling with feverish intensity. His words spilled out in a broken chant:
"Chiikane… give her back… give my sister back… Chiikane, don't… don't take her… Sister… Sister…"
The two nurses exchanged a frightened glance.
They dared not touch him—his wild flailing made him look like someone possessed. Instead, they hovered on the edge of the bed, caught between duty and fear.
"Do you think he's gone mad?" whispered Kosui.
"He must be. He keeps crying out this name, Chiikane. Maybe… maybe that's the one who took his sister."
The first nurse bit her lip, nodding quickly before faltering. "But when Miss Shinobu brought him here, he was barely alive. Sister Aoi said his village had been attacked by demons, and that he was the only one left breathing. What if this Chiikane is the demon that took his sister and left him behind?"
"Then why would the demon leave him alive?"
"Maybe… maybe he's an unlucky omen. A person so cursed even demons won't touch."
The first girl shivered. "Don't say such things, you'll scare me!"
Their nervous whispering ended abruptly when the boy's voice tore the air again.
"Chiikane!"
The sound was not a normal human cry. It rasped up from his throat like the wail of a Demon abandoned in the mountains, low and hollow, carrying with it something that made the nurses' blood run cold.
They pressed together in terror, clinging to each other. "He's crazy—he's completely crazy! What if… what if he turns into a demon too?"
The boy's body lurched upright. His head turned with an awful stiffness, his entire frame swathed in bandages. To the girls, he looked less like a patient and more like a corpse rising from the grave.
Their eyes locked on his exposed gaze—burning, desperate, alive. That was enough. One nurse screamed until her voice cracked, collapsing in a faint. The other shrieked and bolted for the hallway, shouting like a child chased by nightmares.
"He's alive—pretending to be dead! He's alive!"
Her cries echoed through the courtyard of the Butterfly Mansion.
The boy sat panting on the bed, his chest heaving. Slowly his breath steadied, his frantic mind returning to clarity.
It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.
He blinked, his gaze roaming across the whitewashed walls, the simple furniture, the blinding light filtering through the windows.
The air smelled faintly of herbs and antiseptic. A quilt heavy with medicine clung to him.
Where was he? Why was he here? Who had screamed just now?
He tried to think, but a spike of pain drove through his skull. He clutched his head, gritting his teeth. "Sister… Sister, help me. My head… it hurts."
The words left his lips before memory struck him cruelly. His sister wasn't here. She was gone—taken.
It wasn't a dream. It was real. Chiikane had killed everyone. His sister… his sister had been dragged away into darkness.
The confusion in his eyes burned into anguish, then fury. He tore away the quilt, ignoring the agony in his battered body, and staggered toward the door. His legs gave way and he hit the ground with a dull thud, yet he clawed forward, scraping against the wood and dirt.
The fainted nurse woke just in time to see him crawling like some wounded animal. Her mind broke again; she shrieked and slumped unconscious.
By the time Shinobu Kocho, Kanao Tsuyuri, and the other attendants arrived, the boy had already crawled out of the ward. They caught sight of him just as his arm slipped on the steps, sending him tumbling helplessly down.
"Oh my," Shinobu murmured, her tone light though her eyes narrowed. "He's lively. Half-dead, yet still crawling around. What an amusing child."
She remained still, her gaze sharp as the boy groaned in the dirt. Kanao stood nearby, her expression blank as ever, lips curled faintly as if smiling at nothing. The younger nurses huddled behind her, whispering nervously.
"He—he isn't dead, is he?"
"Where's Kosui? I don't see her. Did… did a demon eat her?"
Their panic only fed the chaos.
The boy, stubborn beyond reason, planted his palms in the soil and dragged himself forward again. Blood smeared against the ground, stones scratching red into the dirt. His bandages darkened where they tore.
He passed Shinobu, pausing only when the faint wisteria fragrance brushed his memory. His gaze lifted to hers—those violet eyes so like his sister's, kind yet cruel, warm yet cold.
Shinobu's expression hardened for a moment, her light smile vanishing. She looked at him with a rare gravity, the kind that only surfaced when her anger ran deep.
"Blood…" whispered one of the nurses. "He's leaving a trail of blood."
"What a disobedient child," Shinobu sighed, her voice regaining its playful lilt. "Naru, Seiji, take him back. He needs another bandage. How troublesome." She turned without another glance, stepping lightly back into the ward.
"Don't touch me!" the boy rasped, thrashing as the nurses reached for him. "I need to save her! Let go of me—you bastards!"
The girls froze, eyes wide.
"B-Bastards? He called us bastards? Wuwu, so cruel!"
"We're cute! How could he say such a thing? Unforgivable!"
In a burst of indignation, Seiji balled her tiny fist and swung, smacking the boy across his bandaged face.
"Seiji!" her companion gasped. "Not so hard—you'll kill him!"
"…Then let me do it next."
Their bickering carried absurdly across the courtyard as the boy struggled on.
…
Two days later.
The corridors of the Ubuyashiki estate were quiet, shadows long across the polished wood. Shinobu knelt gracefully before Lord Ubuyashiki Kagaya, who stood with his two daughters at his side—Hinaki and Nichika, serene as pale blossoms.
Despite the disfiguring scars on his face, Kagaya's voice was soft, his smile gentle.
"Butterfly," he said kindly, "I hear you brought back a boy from the mountains?"
Shinobu's smile was bright as ever, though her eyes carried a flicker of thought. "Yes, my lord. A young man. His body is stable now, but his mind… unsettled. Since waking, he's hardly eaten or slept. He only sits at the steps, staring into nothing."
Kagaya chuckled faintly. "Another peculiar child, then. Much like when you found your Kanao. Do you mean to take in another?"
Shinobu tilted her head, a short laugh escaping. "My lord jests. One daughter is enough for me. The Kocho household is already crowded with girls—having a boy would only cause inconvenience."
Her refusal did not dim Kagaya's calm. "Perhaps so. Tell me, then—what do you see in him? Any skill? Any training?"
"Not yet," Shinobu admitted. "But his body speaks of discipline. He fights his own weakness as though death means nothing to him. It reminds me of Sanemi Shinazugawa. That same recklessness."
Kagaya's smile deepened, though sorrow brushed its edges. "Ah, Sanemi. Brave, but too willing to bleed. I would not want all our children to carry such burdens."
He turned his eyes toward the garden, the wind stirring faintly through the trees.
"What is his name?" he asked at last.
Shinobu's eyes flickered, the corners of her lips rising in amusement. "He calls himsel…Yukishiro."
The name lingered in the silence, sharp and strange, like frost in the air.
…