The Cursed (Yokai Watch)

Chapter II: Cursed

The sword buried itself into the tree behind the girl, wobbling awkwardly when its owner released his grip on its hilt. Muramasa narrowly missed killing her, only changing the direction of his forward thrust when he saw she what she was.

"You're not a warrior." He hovered over the girl's trembling form and pulled his blade free, showering chips of bark. "You're just some damn child."

A child in a pink striped shirt and odd knee-length pants like nothing he'd ever seen before. Frightened brown eyes stared up at him from behind a tangled veil of dark hair. Her round, delicate face reminded him of someone from so long ago who he had tried desperately to forget, though in his heart never could.

This was not how it was supposed to be. A child shouldn't be able to attract the attention of the cursed blade. Yet somehow, she had. And that was bad, dangerously bad for the both of them.

"This is quite the predicament we're in." He gently grasped the cool metal of his blade, tightening his grip until he felt the edge bite flesh and draw hot blood. It would thirst for the girl's blood from now on, but his own would sate it enough to coax it back into its scabbard. "Tell me, where do you come from, girl? What village allows such—" his eyes scanned her from top to bottom, "interesting choice of dress and fails to teach their children not to venture into the cursed woods?"

Any breath the girl might have used to speak was too busy rushing in and out of her lungs at steadily increasing intervals. Her unblinking eyes never left Muramasa's stern, scowling face. A shaky hand reached up to cup itself around a silver pendant dangling from her neck. Interrogating this girl was not going to be a chore he enjoyed.

"Quit your hyperventilating, you're not going to die," he said. Even he didn't have it in him to kill a child.

He lowered himself into the grass to take a seat, the high collar of his threadbare cloak hiding the deep frown that formed on his face. The lack of any feeling past the knee startled him. He had been bound to that damn rock for so long he'd forgotten how much of his body had been consumed by his sword.

Muramasa glanced sidelong at the girl, his pupils tightened to thin, annoyed slits. "Child, I'm waiting for an answer."

"I AM NOT A CHILD!" The girl's hysterical, shrill voice sent a cloud of roosting blackbirds high into the sky. She lurched upward and stalked towards him, jabbing an index finger towards his face.

Muramasa held his ground, unperturbed. Was this unarmed girl really threatening a man with a weapon? Either she was dreadfully brave, or dreadfully stupid. Muramasa expected the latter.

"I am not a kid, I am sixteen years-old, and how dare you talk to me like that after trying to murder me!" She stomped a foot on the ground, her eyes burning hotter than the angry blush staining her pale cheeks. "And I don't know what the heck you mean by cursed forest and village. I come from Sakura New Town and the only nearby forest surrounds the holy shrine!" She paused, breathing heavily, her hands balled into fists. Her stiff shoulders appeared to relax as her breathing slowed, rational thought fading back into her mind. "And I...I just want to go home."

He'd never heard of this 'Sakura New Town'. Either she was nuts or, as he was beginning to believe, she was a victim of yokai mischief.

"And I just want to know why you can see me. Although I have a feeling," he rose in one fluid motion, reaching out to lift her pendant towards his face, "that the answer to my question isn't far."

"Hands off." The girl jerked away from his touch. "This watch belonged to my grandfather."

"Your grandfather was an interesting sort, then." A yokai hunter's talisman. The air around the pendant – or 'watch', as she put it – shimmered and wavered with an unmistakable supernatural aura. Muramasa bet that if he removed it from the girl, he'd suddenly appear just as invisible to her as the wind. But the question still remained: what was a clueless girl like her doing with such an artifact?