It was silent on the island. Parents were tucking in their children, birds were feeding their babies, and the water and wind played together.
In a bamboo forest, Yumi kept her eyes open. She was meditating, her katana laying in front of her, her hands pressed together. Finally, she closed her eyes.
Her mind clicked back to the last moment she was in Elyngard with the Athena Legion, talking to Dante.
"Hey, you sure you don't need help? You can call me and—"
She sighed and rolled her eyes, glancing to her side. "I'm sure. I'll be back before anything happens."
"I can always swim there. Or teleport." He tilted his head. "I'll—"
"Dante." She looked into his eyes. He went quiet, then grinned with a sigh. "Okay then…"
"I'll be counting," he added, crossing his arms and smirking knowingly.
With her eyes closed, a faint smirk played on her lips. She nodded and turned around. "Don't count with your fingers. You'll forget quicker."
"Hey! Worry about yourself!" he shouted, drawing a dry chuckle from her.
A man stepped up behind her. He was old enough to be her father, clad in full armor. "Are you ready?"
Yumi stood up. She glanced back, looking at him over her shoulder. "Yes." She turned to walk past him.
The man smiled warmly, but as she passed right by him without stopping, his expression shifted to concern. "Yumi—" He reached his hand out, but she caught his wrist before he could touch her shoulder.
"No. I'm doing this only for our people." She glared at him.
The man looked at her with loving, sorrowful eyes. "And what will you do after?"
"I will go to my real family." Yumi spoke her truth.
The man looked at her like it hurt. And replied with the idea of switching topics, "You do know that this war will hurt you, yes? You told me you didn't kill. That's a necessity. Especially for this war."
Yumi admitted, "I know, I've come to terms with that."
He continues. "It is three hundred men against hundreds of thousands. At least be their leader. Show them your potential—"
Before he could finish, a chorus of screaming shattered the peace. Both of them whipped their heads around, eyes wide.
"Amaterasu!" the man yelled.
Yumi commanded, "To the village!"
She dashed toward the scene. Ahead of her, enemy soldiers were slaughtering innocents. One villager crawled desperately toward safety while a soldier walked slowly behind him, a dead look in his eyes. Yumi watched, horrified, as chaos unfolded.
Nearby, a man screamed near a spreading fire. "Please, my lord! Help us!" He looked up at the night sky, whimpering. "For the people!"
A heavy boot kicked him in the head, sending him sprawling near a bed of flames. The attacking soldier sneered down at the religious man, "Shut up, No one is coming to save you."
Yumi narrowed her eyes, gritting her teeth as old memories flashed before her eyes.
She remembered being upstairs in a house, a helpless little girl. She had pretended to be dead for as long as she could. The final words of her mother echoed in her mind, and she touched her own cheek, reminiscing. *"Act dead. And when you are free, run."*
"Villagers! Run! Or this will be your fate!" a soldier roared in the present. Mimicking her past nightmare, he drove his blade into the crawling villager's back, ending his life the exact same way her mother had died.
Yumi watched with pure rage and roared at the violence. "NOOOO!"
She charged into the fray. The first soldier was dropping to one knee to pull his blade from the villager's body when Yumi's katana flashed—his arm was completely severed. The soldier wailed, clutching the bloody stump of his limb.
An incoming blade swung at her; she parried it cleanly, ducked under a second soldier's slash, and spun in a reverse arc. Her blade sliced his back. Tripping him, she forced him to his knees, delivered a fatal strike to his spine, and kicked his collapsing body into the first soldier she had parried. The corpse pinned the man down.
As the trapped soldier scrambled to push the body off, Yumi stepped forward and knocked him unconscious with a heavy stomp to the face.
Meanwhile, a vanguard of men marched forward with carrying sticks, holding their queen aloft on a massive, moving throne. The queen grinned at the destruction; after all, this fire belonged to her.
"Amaterasu, my lady," a general bowed. "What now? Everyone in the Minya village is dead."
"How many is that?" she asked, uncrossing her legs.
"Our fourteen thousandth kill tonight," the soldier assured her.
"That's awful." Her grin widened. "I like that."
She stepped off her throne, landing gracefully on her feet. "Launch the solar flares. Make it a hundred thousand more."
"Rgh!" Yumi sliced through another enemy, matching the brutal efficiency of the opposing army, and snapped the blood off her katana. Beside her, the old man stabbed a soldier and did the same.
"There's too many," Yumi called out.
The old man dropped into a low stance. "Honor can face them all!" He roared back into the battle, "No mercy!"
Suddenly, a brilliant light ignited the night sky. A solar flare descended, blindingly bright.
Yumi looked up, her eyes widening. "Watch out!"
The cosmic fire slammed into the Minya village. The screams of the villagers were cut short by the impact, and the shockwave blasted Yumi backward, knocking her unconscious.
As she fell into darkness, her mind drifted deeper into the past.
She was barely a teenager on a crisp, sunny day. Someone was gently shaking her awake. "My princess, Lord Takao wants to see you."
"Mmm?" She rubbed her eyes as the attendant bowed before her. "I'll be waiting."
Yumi yawned as she stepped outside, stretching her arms. She looked down as she walked, then paused. A long double-row of samurai formed a corridor before her, marked by a vibrant red mantle at the entrance. She blinked in surprise. "Excuse me—"
As she stepped forward, the samurai smoothly parted, clearing a path. With every step she took past the ranks, they bowed out of her way until she reached Lord Takao, who was smiling warmly.
"Princess Yumi." He held a tightly rolled scroll in his hand.
She wiped the sleep from her eyes to look at him. "Uncle."
She smiled and stepped forward to hug him.
"My dear," he whispered, hugging her just as tightly. He knelt before her as the gathering samurai dropped to their knees in unison.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"My fruit, it is time I tell you the truth." He placed a gentle hand on her cheek, and she watched him with intrigue. "It has been a while since your father's death, yes?"
Yumi didn't respond; she only looked down.
"You don't have to worry about that anymore." He lifted her chin. "I want to be your father, Yumi. I want you to be Yumi Takao." He extended the scroll to her, and she took it with both hands. "These are the adoption documents. And I only want your consent."
She looked hesitant. The trauma of her family's death still lingered, but this was the man who had saved her. Yet, even at a young age, she fiercely respected her birth family's memory. "I'm… sorry."
"Yumi—" He reached for her arm, but she gently pushed his hand away and ran. Tears blurred her vision as the old man could only watch his adoptive daughter disappear into the estate.
As she sprinted away, she tripped, panting heavily as she hit the ground face-first.
The sensation slammed her back into reality.
She was face-down in the dirt, panting and struggling for breath, her body bloodied and her vision blurred. Through the haze, she saw Takao being dragged away by enemy soldiers.
She clenched her fist, trying to crawl forward. "Father…!"
But he was too badly beaten to hear her.
She groaned in agony. "No…!" She dragged herself a few inches further, but a heavy boot stomped down on her wrist. A loud crack echoed, followed by her sharp, agonizing grunt.
"What did you do?!" a soldier barked.
"Shut up!" Another grabbed her by the broken wrist, squeezing tightly as he yanked her to her feet.
The goddess of the sun stepped forward. Amaterasu glared at her with fiery, merciless eyes. "Samurai."
Yumi glared right back, despite the guards pinning her limbs.
"Did you think you'd save the village?" Amaterasu smiled sarcastically. "With the few hundred men your uncle had?" She crouched, bringing her face inches from Yumi's. "You can't. In fact," she stood back up, "my men have you completely in my hold."
Yumi's face contorted as she gasped for air, her nostrils flaring. "Get them off of me, and I'll send you to hell to apologize to the dead," she hissed through gritted teeth.
"In my domain?" Amaterasu grinned. "I spared you years ago, and it was only because of your uncle. What would you be without your people? Without your honor?" She signaled her men, who began dragging Yumi backward. "You'd just be a girl with a sword."
Yumi squirmed, growling savagely. "Son of a—"
Amaterasu squinted down in faux pity. "Reputation and honor don't work here." She sighed, walking away and placing a hand on a soldier's shoulder. "Knock her out. The Aragami will eat away at her potential threat."
Yumi's eyes widened. "I'll kill you!" she screamed, just before a boot struck her across the face.
She lay on her back in the dirt, half-dead, as darkness took her once more.
The next day…
She woke up lying on a soft futon, wrapped in a clean robe. Therapy tape bound her bruised torso and fractured wrist.
Nearby, a man was quietly brewing tea. When her eyes finally fluttered open, she saw nothing but a simple wooden ceiling.
Groaning, she slowly looked to her side. A man wearing a dark, intimidating mask sat beside her. Her eyes widened. She bolted upright, using her good hand to push herself backward.
"Who are you?!" Yumi hissed.
She scrambled into the corner of the room, accidentally putting weight on her fractured hand. She grunted in pain, pulling it protectively over her shoulder as she stared at him suspiciously.
"Many consider me the Aragami." The old man took a calm sip of his tea.
Yumi studied his masked face, then looked across the room. Standing in the corner was a set of samurai armor and a dark, terrifying purple katana radiating a visible aura that matched the energy of his mask. She narrowed her eyes and forced herself to stand, dropping into a weaponless fighting stance.
The man remained calmly on his knees. "What will you take from me?" she demanded.
"Please," he said, bowing his head. "I am not the god you think me to be. And I'd like for it to stay that way."
Surprised, Yumi slowly lowered her guard, though her fists remained clenched. "God? Are you Susanoo?"
The man bowed lower. "I am the 'Ferocious God'."
Yumi scoffed slightly. "Ferocious God? Your disposition seems spent on mercy."
The man chuckled softly. "I strayed from the path of the warrior long ago." He nodded. "Yes, I am Susanoo. I saw your body in the ruins of Minya village. How could I not help a fallen warrior back onto their feet?"
"If the legends are true, I expected you to do the opposite," Yumi countered, slowly sinking onto her knees opposite him.
"I do not accept my sister's ways, nor anyone else's. I've changed. I haven't seen her in years."
"May I ask why?" Yumi asked, her suspicion shifting to curiosity.
The man set his tea down. "They are matters that shouldn't be discussed."
Yumi went quiet and bowed respectfully. "Right… I apologize."
Susanoo shook his head. "Forget I said anything. I thought you were in Elyngard? With the great Athena Legion and their captain, Dante Koryu."
Yumi placed her hands on her knees. "I am. I just got caught up in family business. My uncle sent a messenger bird to our home; he wanted a long-awaited reckoning with the legion of Amaterasu."
"Well, family always comes first." He poured a fresh cup of tea and slid it across the mat to her. "I know what happened out there. I was with Amaterasu once, after all."
She picked up the warm cup. "Why did you really rescue me?" She looked up at him as he stood up with a heavy sigh. "Surely it wasn't just for tea and conversation."
"Aren't you ready to fight?" He pulled a map from his robes and spread it across the floor. "There are people like you and I who want Amaterasu's reign of terror ended. But you and I both know we can't just solo an army of men and superhuman legionnaires." He looked directly at Yumi. "I found those people."
She crossed her arms. "Go on."
"First, Sugi. A wrathful demon, an onna-musha, a female ronin. She is a mercenary among our people, currently tasked with eliminating Amaterasu's elite legionnaires. They say she's blind, but she can hear your every movement. She uses echolocation to catch the breath of her enemies and rip it from their throats. Her mastery of weapons is legendary."
Yumi's eyes widened. "Sugi? She's my friend. I had no idea she was undertaking this."
Susanoo nodded in approval. "She is more than qualified. Second, Yoshio Kuranosuke, leader of the Ronin. A true warrior and master of the masterless. He has already clashed with Amaterasu's vanguard and is waiting for the chance to end her rule permanently. His men are exceptionally powerful."
"Of course. And what about the Yokai?"
A faint smile seemed to touch the edges of Susanoo's mask. "Ah, I was getting to that. Third, Nurarihyon, the legendary supreme commander of the Yokai—the leader of all monsters known to mankind. He has rallied his forces to act as a shield against Amaterasu's campaign to eradicate them. We must gather these factions and show them that working together can achieve the impossible."
"Right." Yumi placed a thoughtful hand on her chin. "I should get going then." She stood up, looking around. "Where's my armor?"
"I don't think you'll be needing that broken armor anymore." Susanoo crossed his arms.
Yumi raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
A few minutes later, Yumi tilted her head, examining her reflection. "Remnants?"
The new armor clung to her like a second skin. The golden dragon shoulder plates shimmered with faint purple veins, catching the light with every movement. A black hooded mask framed her face in shadow, lending her an air of mystery and menace, the edges of the fabric flowing seamlessly into the armor's pauldrons.
Her trousers were loose, made of a dark indigo fabric etched with a black dragon that coiled sinuously across the material in an elegant S-shape from front to back. Each scale was meticulously outlined in purple, and the dragon's pink eyes seemed to glimmer, tracking her movements. Simple black sandals completed the ensemble, grounding her in both practicality and stealth.
The armor wasn't just clothing—it moved dynamically with her body, reacting instinctively to her posture and breath. There was a subtle weight to it, a living presence she couldn't quite define, as though something powerful had been waiting inside the forged metal for a wielder like her. Even without a word, it demanded attention; even without action, it radiated power.
When Yumi shifted, the dragon across her back seemed to coil in response, the golden shoulder plates gleaming with every flex of her arm. In that moment, she felt untouchable, yet deeply aware that this gear carried dark secrets.
Susanoo crossed his arms. "This is cursed armor. Ryujin's soul was sealed into these plates before he fell. It has no equal."
Yumi grabbed her katana and sheathed it across her back. She glanced down at her wrapped, fractured wrist. "Ryujin… I will put it to good use."
"Not just with that," Susanoo added. He raised his forearm, revealing an intricate Oni marking with its mouth agape. He flexed his hand, and hidden mechanical strings pulled tight, popping a hidden blade out from his sleeve.
Yumi gasped. "Woah!"
"Use it for swordless situations," Susanoo advised, snapping the mechanism onto her own forearm. "As well as these," he said, wrapping a tactical rope around her arm to secure a row of kunai.
Yumi looked at the hidden blade skeptically, her traditional samurai honor chafing at the hidden weapon. She reached to unfasten it. "Susanoo, a samurai doesn't—"
He stopped her, placing a firm hand over hers. "Don't thank me now. Thank me when she's dead."
Yumi stood silent, staring at the concealed steel. Reluctantly, she closed her heart to her rigid honor. She flicked her wrist, popping the blade out, spun it expertly in her grip, and snapped it back into concealment.
"Your blade work is magnificent," Susanoo admired. "Let's get you to your horse."
As she walked outside, her vision suddenly blurred again, the world swimming around her as another memory locked into place.
The sea was spitting her out onto foreign sand. Her body, half-dead, crawled through the crashing tide like a broken shell. Salt burned her cracked lips. Her fingers dug into the wet shoreline, trembling but completely refusing to die there.
Then, the wind shifted. A shadow of a woman—radiant, towering, and completely unyielding—descended over her: Athena. Her voice was calm and resolute, as if she had been waiting for Yumi all along.
"Even the sea could not claim you, though you've drifted on a broken hull for days," Athena said. "Why are you here?"
Before Yumi could answer, she saw it—her katana, driven perfectly upright into the sand before her, as though the gods themselves had planted it there. Its hilt shimmered, inviting her grip. With the absolute last ounce of her strength, Yumi reached out. The handle felt warm, alive, and welcoming. She looked up at the goddess. "Who are you?"
"I am a woman of few words," Athena smiled down at her. "I see something unique in you. Something I will not allow to be broken. And I can make you stronger—if you let me." She extended a hand.
The memory instantly bled back into the present. Yumi's hand clenched tight—not around sand, but around the leather saddle of her horse. She pulled herself up into the stirrups, her eyes sharper than ever, her resolve entirely unbroken by gods or tyrants.
Susanoo stood beside the mount. "My best guess is that Sugi is currently hunting in the vanguard territory. You will find plenty of soldiers looking for a fight."
"I'm just as ready as they are." Yumi patted her horse's neck, and the beast neighed in fierce approval.
Susanoo nodded. "Then show them."
She nodded back and spurred her horse into a gallop. "Let's go!"
Leaning forward, she flew down the dirt path. Susanoo watched her disappear into the tree line, his arms crossed. "…She certainly is a fierce reminder of the past."
Yumi raced forward, her horse eating up the miles. She rode through fields of brilliant red spider lilies, a flock of birds flying overhead almost like natural navigators. Checking the map clutched in her hand, she muttered into the wind, "I'm coming, Amaterasu."
As she galloped toward the horizon of rising smoke and distant battlegrounds, thunder cracked across the sky.
Legions of the Gods: Fabrics of Tsukinoshima