When Mio finished speaking, no one said anything.
The old road remained in front of them.
Still.
Dark.
As if it had listened too.
Hina stayed kneeling beside her sister, one hand resting on her back and the other still close to the axe. She was not holding her tightly. There was no need anymore. Mio was there. Trembling, pale, her breathing uneven, but there.
Her eyes were still her own.
That should have been enough to calm her.
It was not.
Mei stood off to one side, her fans closed in one hand and the folded paper in the other. During the entire story, she had barely interrupted. She had only asked what was necessary: where, how many, what the man had said, what Mio remembered afterward.
The answer had always been incomplete.
Mio remembered the book.
The note.
The candles.
The white clothes.
The man in red.
After that, blood.
Heat.
Eyes.
Too many eyes.
And nothing else.
Hina looked toward the forest.
The entrance looked the same as before. The same trees. The same earth. The same darkness between the trunks. No candles. No white figures. No red mask watching them from the depths.
That meant nothing.
That was the problem.
"We need to go back," Mei said.
Hina did not answer.
Mio swallowed.
"I didn't want to go."
The sentence came out so quietly it almost disappeared among the leaves.
Hina looked back at her.
"I know."
"I didn't want them to touch me."
"I know."
"But I went."
Hina clenched her teeth.
Not because she was angry at Mio.
Because she did not know where to put everything she was feeling.
There was fear.
There was guilt.
There was rage.
There was something older too. Something that had existed before that night. Years of watching Mio look from the outside at a world Hina had never been able to explain to her. Years of accepting the family's silence as if silence had no cost.
Mio lowered her gaze.
"I went because I wanted to know."
Hina closed her eyes for a moment.
It hurt to hear.
Because she could not tell her that was wrong.
Not completely.
"They used you," she said.
Mio let out a small laugh.
It did not become a laugh.
"That doesn't make things much better."
"No," Hina admitted. "It doesn't."
Mei folded the paper and put it in her pocket.
"Now we're leaving."
Hina stood.
She looked at the forest again.
Mei saw her.
Her expression changed immediately.
"No."
Hina had not said anything.
She did not need to.
"No," Mei repeated. "Don't even think about it."
"Mei."
"No."
Mio raised her head, confused.
"What's wrong?"
Mei pointed at Hina with her closed fan.
"Your sister is about to do something stupid."
"It's not stupid."
"Then explain it without making it sound stupid."
Hina did not answer right away.
The wind moved the branches above them. Somewhere in the forest, something creaked. It could have been an animal. It could have been a dry branch. It could have been anything.
Hina did not take her eyes off the trees.
"If we wait until morning, they'll be gone."
"So?"
"Mio remembers the path. She remembers the candles. She remembers the clearing. If they're still there, we have a chance to confirm what this is."
"Confirm?" Mei took a step toward her. "She confirmed enough. There are people in robes in a forest performing blood rituals. We don't need more confirmation to know that's wrong."
"We need to know if they're still there."
"No. We need to wake Amane and Ishida."
"You do that."
Mei went still.
"Excuse me?"
Hina looked at Mio.
Her sister was still sitting on the ground, her hands clenched around the fabric of her clothes. She looked younger than she was. Not because of her size. Because of the fear.
"Take Mio back to the house," Hina said. "Wake Yūta. Wake Ishida. Tell them everything. Then come."
"And you?"
"I'm going to look."
Mei let out a dry laugh.
"Sure. Because people who go alone into a forest to 'look' never end up fighting a cult."
"I'm not going to fight."
"That is literally what people say right before fighting alone."
Hina tightened her grip around the axe handle.
The weapon was small again, but it felt heavier in her hand than before.
"If I go with you, Mio stays exposed."
"We take her home and then all go together."
"By the time we leave, there may be no one left."
"Or they may be waiting for you."
Hina looked at her.
Mei did not lower her gaze.
She was not joking.
She was not being difficult.
She was afraid.
And that made Hina want to look away.
"I'm not going into the clearing," she said. "I'm not going to attack. I'm not going to make noise. I only need to know if they're still there."
"And if they are?"
"I come back."
"Liar."
Hina did not answer.
Mei closed her fingers around her fans.
"You're terrible at lying when something matters to you."
Mio raised a trembling hand and grabbed Hina's sleeve.
"Don't go."
Hina felt that hand weigh more than any attack.
"Mio…"
"Don't go there."
Mio's voice broke.
"That place isn't empty, even if you can't see anything."
Hina knelt in front of her again.
"That's why I have to look."
"No."
"Listen to me."
"No."
Hina took her sister's hand.
It was cold.
"What they did to you doesn't end just because you came back to yourself. We don't know if they can call you again. We don't know if they can come looking for you. We don't know if that man can still feel you."
Mio went still.
So did Mei.
The idea remained between the three of them.
Heavy.
Obvious, now that someone had said it out loud.
Hina continued:
"If he knows you escaped, he'll move. If he knows someone interrupted what he did, he'll move too. I need to see him before he disappears."
Mio shook her head, but she no longer had the same strength.
"I'm scared."
"So am I."
The answer came out without a filter.
Hina did not try to soften it.
Mio looked at her.
"Then don't go."
"That's exactly why."
Mei clicked her tongue.
"I hate when you sound convincing."
"That means you'll do it."
"That means I'm still considering hitting you myself."
Hina stood.
"Mei."
Mei took a deep breath.
Once.
Then she looked at Mio.
That look decided more than any argument.
Mio could not stay there.
She could not go back alone.
And if the man in red still had some kind of connection to her, leaving her near the forest was madness.
Mei put away her fans.
"Ten minutes."
Hina frowned.
"What?"
"You have ten minutes. I'll take her to the house, wake Amane and Ishida, and come back. If you're not at the forest entrance by then, I'm going in to find you."
"Mei…"
"I'm not negotiating."
Hina held her gaze.
Then nodded.
"Ten minutes."
"And don't make contact."
"I won't."
"Don't attack."
"I won't."
"Don't turn into the tragic heroine of a broken family."
Hina opened her mouth.
Mei raised one finger.
"That part is also not negotiable."
For the first time that night, something like a smile crossed Hina's face.
It did not last.
Mio stood with Mei's help. She was still trembling. When her legs faltered slightly, Mei slipped an arm around her back.
Hina looked at her sister.
"Go with her."
Mio pressed her lips together.
"Come back."
"I'll come back."
"Don't say it like that."
Hina went silent.
Mio knew her too well.
"Say it like you're not trying to calm me down."
Hina swallowed.
Then she spoke more quietly.
"I'll come back because you still have to yell at me for not telling you anything."
Mio looked at her.
Her eyes filled with tears.
But this time, she did not cry.
"Yes."
"And because if I don't come back, Mei will be unbearable."
"I'm going to be unbearable anyway," Mei said.
Hina nodded.
"That too."
Mio breathed slowly.
Then she let go of her sister's sleeve.
"Ten minutes."
Hina nodded.
"Ten minutes."
Mei began walking back toward the house with Mio.
She did not run.
But she moved quickly.
Hina watched them go until the darkness of the road began to swallow their figures. For a few seconds, she remained alone at the edge of the forest, listening to her own heartbeat.
Then she looked toward the trees.
The fear had not gone away.
It had arranged itself.
That was worse in a useful way.
Hina adjusted her fingers around the axe and entered.
The forest received her without changing.
That was the first thing she noticed.
There was no sudden wind.
No voice.
No figure appearing between the trunks.
Only darkness, damp earth, and branches that seemed far too still.
Hina moved slowly.
She knew this path.
She had walked it as a child more times than she could count. With her father. With her mother. Sometimes with Hina pretending she was not tired. Sometimes with Mio following her a few meters until someone called her back.
That memory almost made her stop.
She did not.
She breathed in through her nose.
Let the air out slowly.
She did not expand the axe.
She did not light her mana openly.
If there was someone ahead, she did not want to announce herself.
The earth was marked in a few places by fresh footprints. They were not deep. Not useful enough to follow with certainty. But they were there. Several. Too many for one person.
Hina crouched beside one of them.
Touched it with two fingers.
Damp.
Recent.
Mio had been there.
And she had not been alone.
Something closed tight in Hina's chest.
She continued.
The path narrowed farther ahead.
Branches brushed her shoulders. At any other time, she would not have cared. That night, every touch felt like a hand trying to stop her. Or push her forward.
A few meters ahead, a weak light appeared among the trees.
Hina stopped.
It was not a lit candle.
Not exactly.
It was a low glow, almost dead, like an ember about to go out.
The clearing was close.
Hina shifted to the side and left the path. She moved between the trunks, stepping where the ground seemed firmer, avoiding dry leaves and visible branches. Her father had taught her that.
Never step where the forest wants you to step.
The sentence returned with such clarity that for one second she felt him behind her.
Do not look back.
The second sentence came too.
Hina obeyed.
She reached a wide tree and hid behind it.
From there, she saw the clearing.
Mio had not exaggerated.
Low stones formed an irregular circle. Some candles were still lit. Others had fallen, extinguished, wax spilled over the earth. There were dark marks on the ground and on a flat stone placed near the center.
Hina felt her hand close so tightly around the axe that her fingers hurt.
The white-robed people were still there.
Not all of them.
Or maybe they were.
It was hard to count them among the trees.
Some figures moved around the circle, gathering objects, putting out candles, erasing signs with their feet. They did not look like they were fleeing in panic. They looked like they were cleaning up a place after using it.
That scared her more.
The calm.
The habit.
The red figure stood in the center.
Standing.
Motionless.
The smooth mask faced the flat stone.
For a moment, Hina did not know whether he was thinking, praying, or listening to something no one else could hear.
Then the man in red raised a hand.
Everyone stopped.
The clearing fell silent.
Hina stopped breathing.
The man tilted his head slightly.
As if something had changed inside a room that was not there.
"One is missing," he said.
His voice was not loud.
Even so, it reached Hina with too much clarity.
One of the white figures approached.
"The girl?"
The man in red did not answer right away.
He brought two fingers to his mask, right over the space between the eyes.
Hina felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle.
"She did not leave alone."
The white figures fell silent.
The man spoke again.
"Someone closed her eyes."
Hina clenched her teeth.
So he could feel it.
Not completely, maybe.
Not as if he could see her from a distance.
But something.
Some mark.
Some invisible thread between that man and Mio.
The blow had not only awakened her sister.
It had cut a connection.
Hina took half a step back without realizing it.
Her heel touched a dry branch.
It did not break.
Not yet.
She froze.
In the clearing, the man in red turned his head.
Not toward her.
Not at first.
Toward the part of the forest where the old road was.
"Search."
The white figures began to move.
Two went toward the main path.
Another circled the stones.
Another entered the trees on the opposite side.
Hina calculated distances.
If she backed away now, she could get out before they surrounded her.
If she moved fast.
If she made no noise.
If she was lucky.
Luck had never been a reliable technique.
Hina took one step back.
Slowly.
The branch under her heel gave way.
The crack was small.
Ridiculous.
The kind of sound that would have meant nothing during the day.
In that forest, beneath those candles, it sounded like a confession.
Every head turned.
Hina stopped hiding.
Not because she wanted to.
Because there was no point anymore.
She stepped out from behind the tree with the axe in her hand.
Still small.
Still unexpanded.
The man in red raised his gaze to her.
For one second, he said nothing.
The red mask tilted slightly.
"Ah."
The white figures stopped.
Then they began to separate from the circle, slowly forming an arc between Hina and the path out.
The man in red spoke with unbearable calm.
"So it was you."
Hina held the axe with both hands.
"What was me?"
"The one who closed eyes that had already been opened."
Hina felt rage.
Pure.
Cold.
"They weren't yours to open."
The silence that followed was brief.
But heavy.
One of the white figures let out a low sound, as if the sentence had bothered them. Another tilted their head. Another tightened their fingers around something Hina could not see clearly.
The man in red did not move.
"Closed eyes always defend the lock."
"And madmen always talk like that makes them sound deep."
The red mask remained still.
Then the man laughed.
Softly.
Almost pleased.
"You have spirit."
Hina took half a step to the side, trying to keep the trunk at her back and prevent them from surrounding her completely.
"And you have ten seconds to explain what you did to my sister."
The word came out before she could stop it.
Sister.
The white figures reacted.
A small movement.
A tilt.
Recognition.
The man in red remained silent.
Then he spoke more slowly.
"Then blood brought blood back."
Hina felt the mistake.
She had not meant to give him information.
She already had.
The man in red raised his hand, as if caressing the air between them.
"I did not know who had closed her eyes. Now I do."
Hina expanded the axe.
The metal grew with a dry pulse of mana, widening until it rested diagonally in front of her. The glow was brief, controlled, but enough to make several white figures take a step back.
Not all of them.
One did not move.
That worried her more.
"Don't take another step," Hina said.
The man in red observed the weapon.
"Your family still keeps old tools."
"And it looks like they work well on cults."
"We are not a cult."
Hina looked at the candles.
The robes.
The stained stone.
The red mask.
"You're right. You're a cult with bad taste."
Another soft laugh came from beneath the mask.
"Laughter helps when one is afraid."
"Then you should laugh more."
The first white figure attacked.
No warning.
No shout.
They simply lunged from the left, too fast for an ordinary person and too clumsy for someone trained.
Hina turned the axe and blocked.
The impact was strange.
It was not pure physical strength. There was mana, but it was badly distributed, like a current forced through a broken conduit. The white figure bounced off the metal and fell sideways, but got up almost immediately.
Hina opened her eyes a little wider.
"What did you do to them…"
"I opened what others closed," said the man in red.
Two more figures advanced.
Hina stepped back, drove the axe into the ground, and pushed mana into the blade.
The edge expanded horizontally, striking the earth and raising a line of dust between her and the attackers. She did not cut them. She did not want to cut them yet. They were people. Sick, manipulated, or turned into something worse, but people.
That complicated everything.
One of the figures crossed the line of dust without caring.
Hina spun the handle and struck with the flat side.
The impact sent the figure crashing into a tree.
The figure fell.
Then stood again.
"They don't feel pain," Hina murmured.
"They feel it," the man in red replied. "But now they know pain is no reason to close their eyes."
Hina looked at him.
"You really love hearing yourself talk, don't you?"
"I like being heard."
"Not the same thing."
Another figure attacked from the right.
Hina ducked, felt something brush over her hair, and answered with a low strike from the handle. The figure lost balance. Hina used the opening to move toward the space between two trees.
But the arc closed.
Four white figures now stood between her and the exit.
The man in red had not taken a single step.
That was the worst part.
He did not need to move to make the forest feel like his.
Hina took a deep breath.
Ten minutes.
Mei would come back.
Yūta and Ishida too.
She only had to hold out.
Not win.
Hold out.
A light pressure brushed her forehead.
Hina froze.
It was not a physical attack.
It was a sensation.
As if someone had tried to place an invisible finger between her eyes.
Her mana reacted by instinct.
The axe shone.
The pressure cut off.
The man in red tilted his head.
"Interesting."
Hina felt a cold deeper than the night.
"Don't touch me."
"I haven't touched you yet."
"Try, and you lose the hand."
"Your sister said something similar."
Hina moved.
She did not think.
The axe crashed into the ground with a massive blow, splitting the earth between her and the man in red. It did not reach him. He did not even step back. But two white figures moved in front of him instantly, as if their bodies had reacted before their minds.
Dust rose between the candles.
Hina breathed hard.
It had been a mistake.
Rage had stolen a second from her.
The man in red saw it.
"The right door always has a crack."
"Shut up."
"In your sister, it was exclusion."
Hina clenched her teeth.
"Shut up."
"In you, guilt."
A white figure appeared through the dust and struck her in the side.
Hina managed to guard, but the impact drove her against a tree. The air left her lungs. The axe shrank for an instant.
Another attack came from the front.
Hina turned just enough and barely dodged it.
The edge of a white sleeve grazed her cheek.
She felt heat.
Blood.
Not much.
Enough.
She straightened.
The man in red watched.
"Someone taught you how to fight to protect a door. But no one taught you what to do once the door has already opened."
Hina spat to the side.
"They taught me how to break things that shouldn't be in front of me."
She expanded the axe again.
Bigger.
Heavier.
The white figures advanced.
Hina planted her feet.
One candle went out.
Then another.
Not because of the wind.
Because of the movement of the bodies around her.
Darkness gained ground in the clearing.
Hina raised her weapon.
And for the first time since she had entered the forest, she understood that she had not followed a clue.
She had walked into a trap.