, the rushing wind, and the streetlights blinking by were her companions tonight. The motorcycle's growl faded to a rumble as she came to a stop, and then silence. This was a modest house in a quieter neighborhood on the edge of the city, away from the bustle of downtown. Flicking her scarf back over her shoulder, she brought out her phone to confirm again. This was the location.

  A sharp knock on the door. A pair of older adults were the ones to answer. As soon as the door cracked open, she could see equal parts concern and apprehension before the expected polite neutrality covered it up.

  "Hello," said the man. The first wrinkles were beginning to betray his age. "You are…?"

  "Asayuki," said the stranger. "We agreed to meet at this time?"

  "Oh!" Memory and surprise flashed across his face at the same time. "My apologies, I didn't expect you to be the shrine maiden."

  High dark metallic boots that almost resembled greaves, with some sort of holster belted to her thigh filling the space between them and the dark skirt. Her matching denim jacket was left open over a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off her fingerless gloves and the numerous belts covering her forearms. The ends of her scarf, otherwise a bright crimson red, were faded dark and tattered.

  Nestled in long white hair tipped with pale red, just above her ears, were two small red headpieces. The left piece alone bore a wing-like extension that wrapped the curve of her head, and both framed the face of a stern, serious young woman. Add to that the tall bag slung over her back and if anything, she looked as far as it got from a shrine maiden. Stark against it all were her eyes—striking icy blue, their color just as intense as their gaze.

  "Please, come in," said the wife. "Our son is sleeping right now."

  "If you would take me to see him." Asayuki crossed the threshold into the house, sparing her surroundings a cursory glance on her way through.

  "He's doing well right now," the wife continued, leading their guest upstairs, "but that changes so quickly. It's always around this time…"

  The husband nodded. "We don't know what else to do. The doctors have no explanation. Every medicine we tried only made it worse—or it only managed to leave him bedridden like he is now. If this doesn't work…"

  "I read your case thoroughly." Asayuki's voice was even and controlled. "I will do all that is possible."

  The child stirred as his door opened and his parents entered with an unfamiliar lady. "Mom, Dad," he said. "Who's that?"

  "Her name is Asayuki-san," said the father. "She's here to make the bad things stop happening."

  "Will you?" Wide eyes brimming with hope and fear found hers. "It's really scary when it happens. It feels like everything is ending…" The teddy bear flopped as his arms tightened around it. "And I can't help what happens. It feels really terrible, on the inside, but not like a headache or a stomach ache—I'd do anything to make it stop. Can you really stop it, miss?"

  Asayuki's expression darkened—but only for a single step. She set down her bag and rummaged through it to procure a small bowl, a pestle and mortar, and several small bags of dried herbs and powders. The parents watched anxiously as she mixed them together, going through her bag for other tools they couldn't recognize before dropping them back in faster than they knew had happened.

  "Drink this." Asayuki placed the small bowl into the child's hands, now filled with a dark liquid. "It's bitter, but it will help you sleep."

  "This will make me better?" he asked.

  "It will make it easier for me to make you better."

  He stared at the bowl. The contents warmed his hands through the bowl. He closed his eyes, braced himself, and drank the bitter concoction as quickly as he could.

  "Good boy." Asayuki's inflection was nothing but flat as she pressed a small cup of water into his hands. "Wash it down and sleep. That's all you need to do."

  The clock on the wall ticked the time away as she set to the bulk of her work. By her request, the parents stepped outside to await the outcome. The air filled with the smell of burning incense as the young boy laid down to rest. Asayuki returned to her bag again and again, setting up everything she needed.

  Twin mirrors now rested on his nightstands. Small stones surrounded a large pentagram of salt at the foot of the bed, dominating the space in the room. Candles and incense lined the walls. Asayuki opened the pouch on her thigh and drew from it an ofuda talisman… and another attached to it, and another, all inscribed successively on a single continuous page folded countless times. She bustled back and forth in the small room. The windows, the door to the closet, the door to the hallway, even the air vents—all but one entrance received a strip of seals.

  The bedroom had a bathroom attached to it, with another door opening from the washroom to the hallway. The parents watched without questioning as Asayuki filled the bathtub and sink alike with water, put up more ofuda on the hallway door and the window, and then closed the hall door. The lock turned.

  Asayuki looked again at the bathroom. The bedroom and bathroom had access to each other and nothing else. Every other entrance and exit was covered. She nodded to herself and returned to the bedroom. The young boy turned over in his bed. She turned out the lights, brought her bag with her to the opposite side of the pentagram, lowered herself into a kneeling sit—seiza, as she'd been drilled to do—and waited.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  The clock continued to count the passing seconds. Asayuki remained still, her eyes closed, but not resting. The dots of light burned their way along the incense sticks. The candles drooped. The child's restless turning stopped and his breathing turned deep and even. Moonlight shone through the windows, casting its rays into the dark room.

  Tick. Tick. Ti—

  Asayuki opened her eyes.

  Several of her candles and incense were no longer lit. The mirrors ceased to show her own reflection, instead revealing the back of their metal casings. The clock's second hand hung suspended between the end of one day and the following midnight. The pentagram was disassembled into a meaningless shape, blown about by a wind that never existed.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Crack. Crack. One… two—three of the nineteen stones ruptured.

  A good result. The inner pattern was disturbed but the salt circle was intact. Asayuki was pleased to see the stones were all halves, no uneven fractures. Seems she overprepared tonight. That was fine with her; now she knew this would be a simple operation.

  Asayuki lifted her katana from within the long bag and stood.

  It was encased in a white and black sheath, mechanical and grooved. Dim red light glowed through the lines running along the scabbard. Tangled in the belts with it came a short tanto sheathed in simple wood.

  Only now did she place a single ofuda on the bathroom door. As soon as her fingers parted from the paper, the room darkened. Asayuki glanced over her shoulder. The moon had turned its gaze away behind the cover of a sudden cloud. The trees on the other side of the windows waved without a blowing wind. Their leafless branches better resembled long spidery fingers than any plant.

  She opened the door.

  The bathroom that greeted her eyes was devoid of water or ofuda. A pungent smell assaulted her nose in their place—the foul stench of long-festering mold and decayed flesh. The door to the hall was open. Even from here, she could hear the deep scraping of a mass hauling itself up the stairs, dragging its body in long strokes by the arms.

  Asayuki closed the door to the bedroom behind her and stepped past the cracked mirror in the bathroom, into the hall where she knew no human was waiting.

  Her quarry noticed her at the same time she saw it in full. A grotesque thing playing at the vaguest humanoid shape dominated the entire stairwell. In place of legs was a long mass of flesh that reminded Asayuki of a termite queen—pulsating meat, draped over the stairs and pressing against the rails. Misshapen arms and legs flailed along its length. Its torso was far more human yet occupied the full height of the second floor, forcing it to bend its head over her. Stringy, greasy strands of thick wiry hair, a smiling grimace that stretched from one ear to the other, and bulging black eyes with no hint of white loomed as she looked up.

  Its teeth parted in anticipation of feeding. Large beads of saliva hung down from its lips and its fetid breath struck like a physical wave reeking of death.

  Asayuki didn't budge in the slightest. Really, it was a little below average for what she was expecting.

  A vast scarlet crescent flashed into being and vanished in the same instant. Asayuki's sword clicked back into the scabbard as quickly as she had drawn it. The beast's exhalation spiked into a feral shriek as it recoiled away from her, crashing through the rail and slamming its back against the far wall. Its severed arm slammed down at her feet. A curved splatter of red decorated the wall and ceiling, marking the path of her blade in its blindingly fast strike.

  "One," she murmured, stepping over the limb. "No others on this case, seems like."

  The creature's shriek turned from pain to rage, its massive body surging forward like a wall of flesh to crush her—

  A flurry of bright red arcs filled the air and she sheathed her sword again. Asayuki sidestepped the creature's charge and retaliated at once, carving dozens of deep gashes into its body in the blink of an eye. Squealing, it smashed itself against the doorway and took down half the wall in its frenzy to break through, black bulbous eyes set on the cracked mirror.

  A thrown ofuda reached the mirror before the beast could, ensuring its escape route remained nothing but ordinary glass. The mirror shattered on impact, spraying fragments across the floor as the monster scrabbled at the wall in vain.

  "And no abilities worth noting." Asayuki's boots alternated between splashing in pools of blood and crunching shards of glass underfoot as she calmly honed in on her target.

  The monster's snarling rose to a new crescendo. Drawing up to its full height as best it could in this cramped space, fresh skinless arms tore free of the gashes all over its body, five- and six-fingered hands tipped equally with nails and claws and talons swiping at the air and carving tears into the floor and walls. It threw itself at the swordswoman to tear her to pieces—

  In the span of a split second, three slashes cut five reaching limbs from the beast. Asayuki's blade speared through the roof of its mouth and twisted as the weight of its body came down, pivoting to bring it crashing to the floor at her side. Its many hands and feet spasmed and then fell still.

  "Please," she scoffed.

  The creature stirred, shifted, and then kicked over onto its side. Its limbs continued to move in the rhythmic flexing of muscle caused by a dormant system with no life left to steer it. Asayuki knelt closer to her sword and drew it out from her kill, using the same motion to swipe the blood from it. She stood up, adjusting her scarf.

  Asayuki lingered for a moment to appreciate the vibrant crimson hue of the blade, the moonlight reflecting down its length, before sheathing it. She exhaled, then brought out a length of talismans and wrapped the slain creature's two original arms in them. She brought them outside, setting them down on the driveway under the moonlight before returning the way she came.

  The bathroom door clicked shut behind her, leaving behind the other side of the house. Once more in the bedroom, Asayuki reached out and tore off the ofuda.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Midnight came and passed. She picked up her bag and took a moment longer to sweep the bedroom one more time. The cracked stones remained cracked and the pentagram remained undone. Several ofuda had peeled off the windows and doors they covered. Her reflection looked back at her through the mirrors. Every candle and incense stick was lit. The salt circle was still intact. And in his bed, the child slept peacefully and undisturbed.

  Asayuki stepped out to greet the parents anxiously waiting for her to emerge. "I'm done."

  "Did something happen?" asked the father. "Did everything go well?"

  "Yes." She didn't elaborate further. "Like we agreed, you have till the end of the month. See the results for yourself before paying anything."

  The mother said, "What about—"

  "Drain the tub and sink now." Asayuki was already on her way downstairs. "Wait until dawn to burn the ofuda. Before the next sunset, throw out everything else away from the house."

  "Wait!" The mother finally got her to pause. She bowed her head and said, "Thank you very much for your service."

  "…What are you thanking me for?" said Asayuki. "There's no need. Have a good night."

  Returning to her motorcycle, she waited until the front door closed and the shadows of the two parents walked away from the entrance. Only then did Asayuki remove a second, smaller bag from her ride and dug out a dark red vial. She retrieved her katana from her bag and drew the tanto sheathed alongside it. Carefully, she tipped a few drops of blood onto the knife—just enough to coat the edge.

  Asayuki knelt and brought the tanto down, cutting a gash into the air itself. On the other side of the rift waited her real prize—the severed arms of the youkai of ten thousand hands.

  Everything was loaded onto her motorcycle. Asayuki leaned against it, eyes wandering to the sky as she tapped her left headpiece. "Come in," she said. "It's Asayuki."

  No response at first. For a moment, she thought he was off on a job.

  "...Asayuki?" A man's voice crackled through the other side. "I read you."

  "Job's done. I got the arms."

  "You got them?" he repeated, incredulous. "Last time I checked, you weren't assigned this week. What are you doing coming to exorcism calls?"

  "This one caught my interest," she said simply. "Not to mention, you weren't doing it."

  "I had it on my plate, okay? There's kind of a big backlog."

  "Then no complaints with reducing it, no?"

  A very audible sigh. "Anyone else on the Reverse?" he asked.

  "Nobody."

  "So long as it's not another mess to clean up… hate doing that." The sound of cloth shifting came through the call. "You should be leaving jobs to us. You have something a little bigger to focus on, don't you? Nobody's going to swoop in and steal the parts out from under our noses, so there's no rush."

  "I know." Asayuki drank in the sight of the night sky. Under a full moon, she could even make out the clouds in the darkness. Absent-mindedly, her hand drifted to massaging the belts on her other arm. She murmured, "I just needed to remind myself who I am."

  "Pardon?"

  "It's nothing." She swung onto her motorcycle and let it rev to life. "Returning to base. Out."

  "…Well, if you say so. See you around, Asayuki. Out."

  Asayuki set out down the street towards the city, her scarf trailing in the wind under the full moon. She took a deep breath, savoring the taste of the cool night air, before bringing her ride roaring to full speed through the night.