Kuro gave her a sideways glance, still trying to look annoyed.
"…Don't get too cocky. I only agreed to follow you because I was bored here anyway."
Himiko let out another soft laugh, clearly enjoying his attitude.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kuro."
They continued walking down the mountain trail in silence for a while. The sun had almost fully set now, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges. Kuro's wings gave off a constant low buzz that almost sounded like background music to their walk.
After some time, Himiko spoke again.
"So tell me, Kuro… how large is your swarm right now?"
Kuro clicked his mandibles, thinking.
"Hard to say exactly. Maybe ten thousand? Fifteen? Most of them are normal flies I control. A few thousand are the bigger ones I've strengthened. The fly-heads you saw earlier are the ones that evolved the most — they're basically my lieutenants."
He flexed his fingers and a small cluster of flies immediately gathered around his hand, swirling in perfect sync.
"They all answer to me. Every single one. If I tell them to die, they die. If I tell them to kill, they kill. That's my power."
Himiko nodded slowly, clearly impressed.
"Good. You'll have use for that."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, crown spinning lazily.
"When we reach my estate, you will meet the rest of my court. They're… smaller than you. Much weaker. But they are loyal. I expect the same from you."
Kuro let out a dry, buzzing laugh.
"Loyalty is earned, porcelain queen. Don't mistake this for friendship. I'm just here because it's more interesting than sitting in a broken temple."
Himiko smiled, completely unbothered by his attitude.
"That's perfectly fine. As long as you obey when it matters."
The two special grade curses continued their descent down the mountain, one regal and elegant, the other tall and buzzing with reluctant energy.
Meanwhile, trailing them through the trees…
Gojo no Kenji lowered his telescope, face pale.
"…She actually did it. She recruited him."
The Zenin scout's voice cracked. "This is the third day… and we're already watching two special grades walking side by side like it's nothing."
Kamo scout looked physically sick. "We still have four more days before we're allowed to report. Four more days of this."
The four observers kept silent, hearts pounding as they followed the unlikely pair deeper into the darkening forest.
After a few minutes, Himiko spoke again, her tone casual.
"You will stay at my estate for now. The Sando compound. It is large enough for both of us and the rest of the court."
Kuro clicked his mandibles, clearly impressed.
"Court, huh? So you already have a proper court set up? Other special grades? High-ranking curses? How big is it?"
Himiko smiled softly, keeping her voice elegant and mysterious.
"You'll see when we arrive."
Kuro's wings buzzed a little faster with genuine interest.
"Damn… I figured you were strong but I didn't think you already had a full court. How many proper fighters do you have? Five? Ten? You got any other special grades under you already?"
Himiko just kept walking, her smile never fading.
"You'll meet them soon enough."
Kuro actually sounded a little excited now, the tsundere attitude cracking.
"Shit, this might actually be worth it. I was getting bored out here. If you've already got a real organization going… maybe I won't have to carry everything myself."
He let out a low buzzing laugh.
"Alright, I'm actually curious now. Lead the way, Queen."
Himiko's smile grew just a little wider, thoroughly amused.
The two continued walking through the dark forest, Kuro now visibly more motivated, completely unaware that Himiko's "grand court" currently consisted of a few dozen terrified fly-heads hiding under furniture.
The two continued walking through the dark forest, Kuro now visibly more motivated, completely unaware that Himiko's "grand court" currently consisted of a few dozen terrified fly-heads hiding under furniture.
As the trees finally thinned out, the Sando compound slowly came into view under the moonlight. The once-proud estate was a wreck — walls half-collapsed, gates hanging off their hinges, scorch marks and cracks everywhere from Himiko's original rampage.
Kuro stopped walking. His wings gave one slow, confused flap.
"…This is it?" he asked, voice dripping with disbelief. "This is your 'estate'?"
He gestured at the ruins with both clawed hands.
"This dump? It looks like someone dropped a mountain on it. The walls are falling apart, the courtyard's full of rubble, and I can see straight through half the main hall. You live here? This place is a literal dump!"
Himiko kept walking forward without missing a beat, crown spinning lazily above her head.
"It has character."
"Character?!" Kuro buzzed loudly, hurrying to catch up. "It has structural failure! I've seen abandoned outhouses in better condition than this! You really brought me all the way down the mountain for… this?!"
They stepped through the broken gates into the courtyard. The moment they did, dozens of fly-heads came pouring out from every crack and shadow — all of them tiny, trembling, and clearly terrified. They fluttered around Himiko's feet like nervous puppies, bumping into each other and making little scared squeaking sounds.
Kuro froze mid-step.
He stared at the pathetic swarm for a long moment, compound eyes flicking rapidly between Himiko and the fly-heads.
"…These are your loyal subjects?"
One particularly small fly-head tried to hide behind Himiko's leg, only to trip over its own wings and face-plant into the dirt with a tiny "meep!"
Kuro's wings sagged.
"You have got to be kidding me. I left my perfectly good temple… for this? A broken-down dump and a bunch of flying cowards that look like they'd faint if a leaf blew the wrong way?"
He pointed at the smallest one, still lying face-down in the dirt.
"That one just died of fright and I haven't even said anything yet!"
Himiko turned to him with a perfectly straight, elegant face.
"They are very loyal."
Kuro dragged a clawed hand down his fly face and let out the longest, most defeated buzz she'd ever heard.
"I can't believe I got played by a porcelain doll… I'm never living this down."
Himiko smiled sweetly.
"Welcome to your new home, General Kuro."
Kuro just groaned loudly, wings drooping in pure embarrassment.
"…Kill me now."
"Fine. If we're going to build a proper court here, this place needs to be fixed. The walls are crumbling, the main hall is barely standing, and the courtyard is a disaster. We cannot have a queen living in this state."
Himiko lifted her chin, the regal arrogance sliding back into her posture like it had never left.
"Of course not," she said smoothly. "A queen's residence must reflect her status. This… mess is beneath me."
Kuro crossed his arms, compound eyes scanning the damage.
"We'll need materials — stone, wood, something to reinforce the walls. My swarm can scout the surrounding mountains for anything useful. They're not strong enough to carry heavy loads, but they can locate supplies and keep watch."
Himiko nodded once, already envisioning it.
"Good. The main hall must be restored first. The throne room needs to be worthy of its queen. The broken sections of the outer wall must be rebuilt and reinforced. I will not tolerate any weakness in my domain."
She turned to Kuro, crimson and silver-black eyes gleaming with command.
"You will oversee the swarm's efforts. Use your insects to search for stone quarries or fallen timber. Once materials are located, we will find a way to transport them — even if it means using the larger fly-heads to ferry smaller loads repeatedly."
Kuro clicked his mandibles again, but there was a hint of reluctant respect in his voice.
"You really do talk like a queen. Fine. I'll get the swarm scouting now But don't expect miracles. We're starting from a pile of rubble."
Himiko's lips curved into a cold, imperious smile.
"Then we will turn this rubble into something magnificent. A court worthy of me… and now worthy of my general as well."
Kuro's wings gave a low buzz. He didn't argue.
For the first time since he had agreed to follow her, the Fly King actually looked like he was ready to work.
"My swarm can scout the mountains for stone and timber," Kuro continued, his voice now carrying the tone of someone who had accepted his fate. "The bigger fly-heads can carry small loads, but for anything heavy we'll need a better system. Maybe construct simple sleds they can drag."
He turned to look at her, his compound eyes reflecting her porcelain face in a thousand tiny facets.
"You're the one with the grudge shards. Think you can use them to break apart larger boulders or cut timber cleanly?"
Himiko's lips curved into a small, arrogant smile. Her crown spun a little faster above her head as she answered.
"Easily," she said, voice dripping with regal confidence. "My shards can fracture anything. Stone, wood, even steel if needed. A single well-placed shard could split a boulder the size of a house. The real challenge will be transporting the materials here in any useful quantity."
Kuro nodded, already thinking ahead.
"We'll need to be smart about it. The swarm can scout, gather, and report — but actual heavy lifting will fall on us. Once we know where the best stone and timber are, we can start carving a proper path down the mountain so the materials can be moved more efficiently."
He turned toward the swarm of fly-heads still hovering nervously around them. Raising one clawed hand, his voice took on a sharp, commanding tone.
"All of you — listen up!"
The fly-heads instantly snapped to attention, trembling in mid-air.
"Split into three groups. First group: scout the northern ridges for large stone deposits. Second group: search the eastern forest for fallen timber and strong trees. Third group: check the western slopes for anything else we can use — clay, sand, anything that can be turned into mortar."
He pointed sharply with two fingers.
"Report back before sunrise. I want locations, quantities, and how difficult the terrain is. Do not return empty-handed. Move!"
The fly-heads immediately scattered in a chaotic but determined swarm, buzzing loudly as they shot off into the night sky in three separate directions.
Kuro watched them disappear into the darkness, then turned back to Himiko with a low buzz.
"They'll find what we need. Once they report back, we can start planning the actual transport."
Himiko gave a single, satisfied nod, her regal posture radiating approval.
"Very good, General Kuro."
Kuro clicked his mandibles, wings still humming.
"Don't thank me yet. Fixing this dump is going to be a lot of work… even for us."
"Our swarm is on its way to scout the mountains," Kuro continued, his voice now carrying the weight of command. "By morning we'll know the best sources for stone and timber. Once we have that information, we can start tearing down the worst sections and begin rebuilding properly."
He gestured at the collapsed outer wall with one clawed hand.
"The walls need to be twice as thick and twice as high. The gates must be reinforced with iron and cursed energy. And this main hall…" He glanced up at the half-destroyed building. "It needs to actually look like a queen lives here, not like a battlefield."
Himiko nodded, clearly pleased with his shift in thinking. Her crown spun faster, catching the moonlight like spinning obsidian blades.
"Exactly," she said, her voice smooth and imperious. "The throne room will be expanded and elevated. The dais will be carved from a single block of black granite. The ceilings will rise high enough that my crown can spin freely without touching stone. The entire structure must radiate power and authority. I will not rule from a broken shell."
She turned to face him directly, her crimson and silver-black eyes gleaming with absolute confidence.
"From this moment forward, everything here belongs to us. The land, the buildings, the swarm — all of it. We will reshape this place into the foundation of something far greater. A true seat of power that will draw stronger curses to our banner."
Kuro stared at her for a moment, then let out a low, reluctant buzz.
"…You really don't do anything halfway, do you?"
Himiko's lips curved into a small, imperious smile.
"A queen never does."
She took a few steps forward, gazing across the ruined courtyard with cold ambition.
"Once the walls are rebuilt, we will begin expanding the grounds. Barracks for our growing swarm, training fields, and an archive worthy of my collection. I want every curse in the region to know exactly who rules these mountains."
Kuro's wings hummed thoughtfully.
"That's going to take serious resources. We're going to need more than just stone and wood. We'll need cursed tools, binding materials, maybe even a few captured sorcerers to enchant the walls."
Himiko's smile sharpened.
"Then we will take what we need. The weak will provide the materials. The strong will either join us… or become shards for our collection."
Meanwhile, in Takayama Village…
The heavy wooden gates groaned open as a tall, unsettling figure stepped through.
His skin was a sickly, almost translucent grey, with faint black veins crawling beneath the surface like living cracks. Long, messy silver hair fell past his shoulders, streaked with sickly yellow patches that matched the eerie glow of his eyes — two piercing, pupil-less yellow orbs that seemed to burn with malicious hunger. A wide, jagged scar split his face from the corner of his mouth up to his left ear, giving him a permanent, unsettling grin even when he wasn't smiling.
Two long, curved black blades were strapped across his back in an X, their hilts wrapped in what looked disturbingly like dried human skin.
This was Kurosawa — one of the Hollow Blade's most dangerous associates.
The moment he entered the square, the air grew thick and foul, like the stench of rotting meat. Several villagers instinctively backed away, clutching their children tighter.
Village headman Takeshi and the elders stood frozen in place. Behind them, the Akatsuki refugees stared in open terror.
Kurosawa tilted his head slowly, those glowing yellow eyes sliding across the crowd like a predator picking out the weakest prey.
"So…" his voice came out low, raspy, and mocking, "this is what's left of the village the porcelain doll decided to snack on."
His scarred grin widened, revealing rows of sharp, yellowed teeth.
"I've heard the rumors. A walking white doll with a spinning crown of black shards. They say she's even started building herself a little court."
He let out a low, wet chuckle that made several people flinch.
"Sounds like a fun hunt."
Elder Sato stepped forward, her voice shaking with both rage and desperation.
"She slaughtered our people — our chief, our children… we're begging you. Kill her. Whatever your price, we'll pay it."
Kurosawa's glowing yellow eyes slowly drifted over to her, then across the terrified refugees.
His grin grew crueler.
"My price is simple."
He raised one long, pale finger and pointed lazily at the group of Akatsuki survivors.
"Ten of your strongest, healthiest young ones. Boys and girls. They come with me when the job is done. I need fresh subjects for my… research."
A horrified silence fell over the square.
Kurosawa's yellow eyes gleamed with wicked delight as he watched their faces twist in disgust and fear.
"So?" he purred, tilting his head. "Do we have a deal… or would you rather wait for the porcelain queen to come finish what she started?"
The square fell deathly silent.
Then the outrage exploded.
"That's absurd!" Elder Sato shouted, voice cracking with fury. "You want ten of our young people as payment?! They're not tools for your sick experiments!"
Headman Takeshi stepped forward, face flushed with anger.
"We asked you to kill a monster, not to trade our children like livestock! That price is insane!"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the refugees. A young mother clutched her daughter tighter, tears streaming down her face.
"You're no better than the curse!" someone yelled from the back. "We'd rather die fighting that thing than hand our children over to a monster like you!"
Kurosawa's yellow eyes narrowed, his scarred grin stretching wider. He let out a low, rasping laugh that sent chills down everyone's spine.
"Oh? So you'd rather die then?" He slowly drew one of his black blades, letting the edge scrape loudly against its sheath. "Because that porcelain bitch won't negotiate. She won't ask nicely. She'll just walk in here and eat you all. Slowly."
He pointed the blade lazily at the crowd.
"I'm offering you a chance. Ten lives in exchange for saving hundreds. Seems like a fair trade to me."
Elder Sato's hands trembled, but she stood her ground.
"We will not sacrifice our children. There must be another price. Gold, supplies, anything else — but not our young ones."
Kurosawa's glowing yellow eyes slid across their terrified faces, clearly enjoying their desperation.
He licked his lips slowly.
"Ten… or I walk away right now. Your choice."
The square fell into a heavy, suffocating silence as the refugees stared at each other in horror, forced to confront the terrible decision before them.
Kurosawa clicked his tongue in irritation, the sound sharp and impatient.
"Fine," he sighed, rolling his glowing yellow eyes. "I refuse to have made this trip for nothing. So I'll be taking two kids anyway."
Before anyone could even react, he was gone.
In the blink of an eye he stood in the middle of the crowd, already holding two small children — a young boy and a girl, no older than six. He had one tucked under each arm like they were sacks of grain.
Both children immediately burst into loud, terrified sobs.
"Mommy!" the little girl wailed, kicking helplessly.
"Mama! Let go!" the boy cried, tears streaming down his face.
The entire square erupted in panic. Mothers screamed. Men lunged forward only to freeze when Kurosawa's yellow eyes swept over them.
"In return," he continued casually, speaking over the children's crying, "I will still go check out this porcelain spirit. But no promises. Since a full deal wasn't made, consider this a… generous discount."
He flashed that jagged, horrifying grin.
"See? I can be nice when I want to."
With a mocking little wave of his fingers, Kurosawa turned and strolled toward the gates, the two crying children still tucked under his arms.
"K-Byeeee~"
The gates creaked shut behind him, leaving the entire village standing in stunned, heartbroken silence.
For several long seconds, no one moved. The only sounds were the fading sobs of the two children being carried away into the night.
Then the dam broke.
A mother collapsed to her knees with a wail that tore through the square like shattered glass. "My baby! He took my baby!" Her voice cracked into a raw, guttural scream that echoed off every building.
Another woman lunged toward the gates, screaming hysterically, only to be caught by three men who had to physically restrain her as she thrashed and kicked. "Let me go! Give him back! Give me my daughter!"
Chaos erupted across the square.
People were shouting, crying, cursing. Some screamed Kurosawa's name with pure venom, others turned their rage on the elders. "This is your fault!" a man bellowed at Headman Takeshi. "You brought that devil here!"
Elder Sato stood completely frozen, her face ghostly pale, hands shaking so violently she could barely stand. "We… we never agreed to this…" she whispered, repeating it like a broken prayer. "We never… we never…"
Headman Takeshi looked physically ill. His legs nearly gave out as he clutched his stomach. His voice came out hoarse and broken. "That monster… he didn't even give us a chance to negotiate… He just… took them…"
A young father dropped to his knees in the dirt, slamming his fist into the ground again and again until his knuckles bled. "He took my son… he took my son!" Each word came out weaker, more shattered, until it dissolved into ugly, choking sobs.
The Akatsuki refugees, who had already lost their homes and their loved ones once, now stood in shattered disbelief. Some stared at the closed gates with completely empty eyes, as if their minds had simply shut down. Others clutched their remaining children so tightly the little ones began to cry from the pressure.
An old woman in the back collapsed onto a bench, tears streaming down her wrinkled face. "We invited the wolf in… and he still took what he wanted," she whispered through trembling lips.
The square slowly filled with the sound of weeping. Mothers wailed openly. Fathers broke down where they stood. Grandparents held each other and sobbed quietly. The entire village mourned two children who were still alive, but already gone.
Takayama had just paid a terrible price for the mere hope of protection.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond the walls, Kurosawa's cruel, mocking laughter could still be faintly heard, carried on the night wind over the distant cries of the stolen children.
He strolled casually down the dark forest path as if he were taking a pleasant evening walk through a garden, not dragging two terrified children away from everything they had ever known. The little boy had finally gone quiet, his small body limp with exhaustion, only letting out weak, hiccupping sobs every few seconds. The girl, however, was still fighting — kicking her little legs helplessly, her tiny fists pounding uselessly against his side as she wailed for her mother.
The moonlight filtered through the thick canopy above, painting the forest floor in silver patches and deep black shadows. Twisted tree roots snaked across the path like grasping fingers. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, pine resin, and something faintly metallic — perhaps the lingering taste of fear that clung to the children.
Kurosawa hummed a low, off-key tune to himself, completely unbothered by the girl's struggling or the boy's quiet whimpers. Every now and then he gave them both a little shake, as though they were merely noisy packages he was carrying home from market.
A few minutes later, the path widened and opened up to a small crossroads. An old wooden signpost stood crooked in the center, its weathered planks pointing in four different directions. Moss and vines had claimed most of it, but faint carved characters could still be seen under the moonlight — names of long-forgotten villages and warnings about dangerous mountain paths.
Kurosawa stopped beneath the signpost, his glowing yellow eyes gleaming with lazy amusement as he looked around. The children's cries echoed softly in the clearing.
From the shadows of the left path, another figure slowly emerged.
He was shorter than Kurosawa, dressed in a wide-brimmed black hat that cast most of his face into darkness. A long, tattered scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, fluttering slightly in the night breeze. A warped wooden staff rested across his narrow shoulders, strange symbols burned into the wood pulsing with faint cursed energy. Only his eyes were visible — the same cold, calculating, pupil-less yellow as Kurosawa's.
The man in the hat stopped a few feet away and tilted his head slightly, observing the scene in silence.
Kurosawa didn't waste time with greetings. He simply extended both arms and shoved the two crying children forward without ceremony.
"Here. Take them."
The hatted man caught the boy and girl effortlessly, gripping them by the backs of their clothes like stray kittens. The moment they were transferred, both children started wailing again at full volume — high-pitched, terrified screams that cut through the quiet forest like knives.
"Two this time?" the man asked, his voice smooth and slightly amused, though muffled by the scarf. "You're feeling generous tonight."
Kurosawa rolled his glowing yellow eyes, the scarred grin on his face never faltering.
"That pathetic village wanted me to kill the Porcelain Onryo. They couldn't even agree on a proper price, the cowards. So I took what I wanted anyway. These two are my consolation prize,
bring them back to the hideout."
The man in the hat looked down at the sobbing children dangling from his grip. The little girl was still kicking, tears streaming down her flushed face. The boy had started crying again, calling weakly for his mother between sobs.
"And the porcelain spirit?" the hatted man asked, eyes flicking back up to Kurosawa.
Kurosawa's scarred grin widened, revealing rows of sharp, yellowed teeth that glinted in the moonlight.
"I told them I'd check her out. Whether I actually kill her or not… depends entirely on how entertaining she is."
He turned to leave, waving lazily over his shoulder without looking back.
"Make sure those two don't die too quickly. I might want them later."
The man in the hat gave a single silent nod, his glowing yellow eyes watching as Kurosawa's tall figure disappeared back into the darkness of the forest path. The sound of his footsteps faded, along with that cruel, lingering laughter.
Once they were alone, the hatted man looked down at the two terrified, crying children in his grip. His voice dropped into a cold, almost gentle whisper that somehow made the night feel even darker.
"Come along, little ones. We have work to do."
He adjusted his hold on them, turning toward the left path that led deeper into the mountains. The children's sobs grew louder as they realized they were being taken even further from home. The man in the hat paid their cries no mind, His warped staff tapped rhythmically against the ground as he walked—each strike echoing like a countdown to something terrible yet to come.