Here to ramble

mysterious next door neighbors~

bonus:

--

His father’s leatherbound journal’s been burning a hole into Yuru’s pockets for years but he can’t stop leafing through it every time he goes hunting. It’s the only time he’s away from prying eyes.

The fire burns low and licks at the hunger in his stomach. The shadows stretch in the night.

Go left at the bowing acacia. So he does. He could do it in the dark with his eyes closed after all these years.

Press your palm against the mossy undergrowth at the third stone. He doesn’t bother consulting the instructions in the journal for these first instructions.

Yuru skinned his first hare today. He’s only five, but, he’s a real natural. He quite likes the bow but one must know how to get their hands dirty. He’s a sensitive boy. More than Asa, I think.

He steps and darts through the undergrowth. He bites the old stone talisman halfway down the mountain and his jaw aches. Really should’ve caught a fish for dinner. He can bear two of three on a hunt: the cold, sleep deprivation, and hunger. It’s a warm summer night and he’s slept.

There’s something— No we must leave. We will take the children alongside. I cannot hope to explain it to them but… oh how I wish in these moments I could speak to my father. I never understood him until I had my own children. The sacrifices we make for them, knowing full well they will grow up to despise us for our choices.

He makes his way to the final set of steps down the mountain. He pulls the journal out and runs his finger along the fraying edge. There are two folded maps tucked into the back pages. One of Japan and the other of the world. Papa how big is the world? Asa would ask, tucked into his arms. Yuru was too busy notching arrows and jumping into creeks. Oh, sweetheart, bigger than you can ever imagine.

His stomach clenches at the thought of Asa but he swallows it down. The final instruction is written on a corner of the map of Japan: Know Left from Right. You can never look back. Will you be the one who walks away?

At first, Yuru tried going left. Then right. Then going to the statues at the base of the village.

Now, Yuru sits. He sits until his legs have gone numb. Until his thoughts drip down the base of his neck in droplets of sweat. They left me. I just—I don’t believe that’s Asa back in the village but I don’t know and I swear I have to come back—

A branch snaps into two. Yuru tenses, fingers flying for his bow. He does not look back.

“Who’s there?” he says. An assassin? Hooves clomp on the earth behind him.

A chill prickles at the back of Yuru’s scalp. He exhales.

“Hello, little sealmaster,” the chill hisses back. It has a strange accent. “I’ve finally caught you. Have you chosen not to go left nor right?”

“I— I just want to leave,” Yuru says. Fuck. This doesn’t seem like a regular assassin. “Who sent you?”

The chill laughs, thin and breezy. “Curiosity. Aren’t you curious too, little sealmaster?”

Yuru grips his gutting knife, fingers rattling with the cold. No. He won’t be scared. “Will you let me go?”

“Humans believe breaking to be death: spirit, bone, bond. But, little sealmaster, you know better.” It pauses. “Give Seal my regards. Now go.”

There’s a talisman tied to the foot of a tree at the bottom of the path, visible in the night. No. Was that always there?

Hooves strike the earth, chill drawing away with them. Yuru’s fingers settle. Then, he tilts his head sideways, just until it’s in his periphery—

There’s a beautiful pearly mane, her hair lush and decorated with bone. Atop her sits a tall man in a foreign-style ivory yukata with a straw hat. There’s a black, rotting abscess where his left eye should be.

Yuru looks forward until he can no longer hear the clomping strike of hooves.