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Chapter Text

‘My little rose of the abyss… come to me… come…’ dead trees littered the gloom and craggy rock, green moonlight casting stark shadows through the dark bars of the large prison, covered in ofuda written in the blood of his predecessor, brown with age, the paper yellowed and fraying on the edges.

A pale, elegant purple hand with horrifically sharp black talons bathed in that haunted moonlight through the black bars, reaching out in the dark gloom for the power he could feel inching ever closer to him. His lurid violet eyes dilated heavily, panting darkly, slightly covered by his hair. He closed his eyes and shivered as he felt her, the power so distinct now.

He could almost scent her… he’d howled the moment her feet touched Japanese soil, raking his horns along the bars in agony, fists tight against the bars, thick and turgid for something so close, yet so far out of his reach. No amount of touching himself could quench the fire in his loins for her, and he blacked out after multiple rounds of self-inflicted pleasure, lying sticky and defiled in a cooled puddle of his own seed, only to drag himself to the baths to do it all again, sticky puddles of white coating the stone tile.

He howled again, notes of pained longing and anguish rolling through him, echoing throughout the small comfortable prison he was afforded. He’d waited for ten years… his grandfather promised. He promised it would all be worth however long he had to wait. His hand drew back as if burned, a deep feeling of sorrow rolling through him. She’d stopped moving toward him. He could not tell what time it was in the human realm, but he realized it might have been time for her to rest… to recover from the long trip he knew she took to get to him.

He’d seen snippets of her behind closed lids lying in his futon, tortured by her big brown eyes behind her glasses, ached to touch her hair seemingly made of dark clouds, and run his tongue along her plump shoulder and neck to see if she was as delicious as she looked. She was juicy all over… something lovely he could not admit he needed desperately to his peers. They would see her differently, but he vowed to make sure that she knew he desired her just as she was.

A faint yellow light cascaded on his back sharply as the sliding door slid open softly behind him yards away. It remained silent, though his arm drooped against the bars, his head bowed like it was all hopeless.

“She is so close… I can feel her…” His dark voice sweetly whined, and a huge heaving sigh rang out from behind him as he raked his horns along the bars in protest.

“Master, if she truly is so close, we should be preparing you. Come in and stop howling, and choose a garment that you think she’d like to see you in.” A light sweet voice preceded a bowed blue head greeting him when he turned his head, but not before she wrinkled her nose at his typical attire.

Long silky hair black as sin fell neatly over his shoulders in straight heavy locks, framing his face like a princess’s would, so totally opposite of the usual wild styles of his kind. Her lord had unusual tastes, but he was awfully pretty for an oni. She could see him easily play a courtesan in Kabuki in the Night Party’s entourage. The only giveaway on his face were his strong chin. The oni women who knew he was off limits lamented that such a pretty oni would be wasted on a human.

His lovely lavender eyes were big because of his mother, his chin strong because of his father and their oni blood. Two long pointy horns jutted up straight off the top of his forehead, his purple skin fading to a muted gray black, and then pitch black at the tips. He stood, easily dwarfing her bowed form. He looked sullen, as if the thought of selecting something would cause him great distress.

“I don’t know what to choose, I only want to wear what she’d like.” He crossed his arms in his dark purple haori with black yukata, tied with a white tiger fur obi, a string of clear indigo beads threaded through a hair of the Northern Dragon around his neck, effectively sealing him inside this prison. The skull of a raven rested as the centerpiece, the beak still black and shiny, the empty eye holes a little unnerving, as though they could still see. He was unashamedly still half hard, his cock tenting the fabric noticeably below his belt. The thought of finally escaping this prison after winning his woman’s heart made him yearn even more for her.

“Then trust me to make you shine. When the bell rings, be ready for me to retrieve you and prepare for her arrival.” The waifish woman bowed again, and he nodded. She stood to turn and walk away, but he stopped her. Her single horn gleamed blue in the green light of the moon.

“Make me appear good enough to eat. I need her to understand the depth of my need for her through her own, Nanoha.” He stalked away to a different, darker part of the lands of his prison, uninterested in going back into the estate he was shackled to. She bowed again. If she was successful, she’d be able to come to the human realm as a servant to the Oni’s wife, which was a prestigious position. There weren’t many ayakashi able to leave the realm legally. He’d already left the area, but she stood straight, a menacing gleam in her eyes.

“I’ll treat it as though this were my own marriage. I truly do want to see you happy, little Isshiki.”

The taxi rolled to a stop after weaving through the small crowd of people walking toward its destination, the Oni Shrine. Thanking the driver in practiced Japanese, Rachel stepped out of the taxi, feeling less cramped. She was taller than even the average woman in her own country, so she was sure she was a sight to see for the locals of this somewhat rural part of Aomori prefecture.

She was sure that the locals would appreciate her attempt at dressing up for a festival. The yukata she wore was a little older, and because of her height and stature was meant for a man, but they did a decent job stuffing her inside of the garment. She had to do her own hair, purchasing simple silver plated kanzashi pins, and looking up popular hairstyles at the time, doing a very simple coif with a large gold moon shaped pin holding it all together, strategically placed star pins holding uneven sections of hair back for her.

She stood out, tall with cinnamon skin and unashamed in her purple yukata with roses and golden mists heavily dyed into the bottom and sleeves and gold obi, walking with care first to the purification basin, washing her hands and mouth carefully. She was used to eyes everywhere she went, but now it was for a different reason. These people had probably never seen someone who looked like her before, so it was mostly a morbid curiosity. She could feel the needle of it in her skin as she approached the altar, realizing that it might also be because of her snake bite piercings matching with the rest of her gold accessories, as she dabbed her mouth dry with a handkerchief that even matched.

She decided to focus on the ones not paying attention to her, smiling sweetly at the ambiance of the festival, little kids in oni masks and fake garden tools running between slightly tired looking parents who just wanted to eat some of the delicious food from the stalls. She could hear drums playing somewhere off in the distance, likely a troupe honoring Raijin, the oni-like Shinto god of thunder and storms. The way they skillfully played made her hips wiggle a bit with the rhythm, and she had to stop herself before she did something she might find embarrassing later, and moved on to the reason why she came to this particular shrine.

She thought about its story as she approached the main hall, where the offering box was kept. There was a legend of a benevolent Demon God, who kindly helped villagers survive drought, saving their crops so they could eat, so they created the shrine to venerate him. He was prayed to for protection of course, but some women swore that the god also helped them find love too. A lot of gods were like that though, abundance associated with the ones whose stories helped save people.

She could see old gardening tools laid out, and some depictions of the oni having no horns which was rare and proof of his kind nature, since the source of their horns were manifestations of sin. She found it interesting, because something that most should believe are evil and should be avoided, was welcomed and honored. She hoped that one day, she could be seen as a respectful foreigner, and thought of the prayers that she would put forth.

She knew coins were preferred for this, but she could not help herself as she took out her little red wallet, pulling out a 2,000-yen note, slipping it into the slats of the wooden box, as she approached. Bowing twice deeply, she clapped twice, and closed her eyes to pray.

‘I really hope you can understand English… I am here from very far away, drawn to the moving story of your good deeds. I pray for a shred of the protection that you afforded all of those villagers long ago. Please show the people of this beautiful town that I only wish to protect them as you have for their kindness and hospitality toward me. And maybe...’ she hesitated.

‘…maybe you could show me someone to love too? I haven’t been so lucky with that, maybe you could protect my heart too?’ As she finished praying and bowed, the sound of a beautiful bell rang out, making her stand abruptly, head up and listening for which direction it came from, her eyes on the locals who looked around excited.

She could hear snippets of speech she could understand… the family who ran the shrine, the Kidou clan, was in charge of everything on the shrine, ringing it. Everyone seemed to be looking around for someone or something. A few of them even looked at her curiously, and she smiled winningly at them, and they quickly looked away. As she walked away from the main hall, the sound of the bells died down, and so did most of the excitement, though it lingered.

Making a mental note to find the bell that made such a beautiful sound, she began to walk around, ordering meat skewers and octopus fritters with her limited knowledge of ordering, getting the counting system mixed up a little. The vendors laughed good naturedly, happy that someone foreign was even attempting to interact with them.

Bowing at them as she left, she went to go find a quiet corner to enjoy her food, sitting alone on a bench eating politely and tossing her trash appropriately.

Near where she sat, she spied the internal stall where she could buy protective talismans, and have her fortune divined through omikuji, or shaking sticks to retrieve a number and receiving the fortune from that drawer. While she ate, she learned how to ask for a protection talisman, and went over the steps to read her fortune.

Excitedly walking up to the stall where the shrine maidens ran things, she politely asked for a protection talisman, the woman asking which color she wanted.

“A purple one, please.” she smiled at the woman, who smiled easily back at her, exchanging hands with a few 100-yen coins and a lightly sweet-scented purple pouch with sutras on it. She tucked it between the lapels of her yukata and bowed, the maiden bowing in return before she walked off to the side, seeing the fortunes.

Waiting her turn patiently. She watched how the locals did it, she paid a donation, and shook the box. One of the sticks fell out of the box as she shook, and she took it to mean that she should take this one. She read the number ‘49’ on the stick. Looking for that drawer, she pulled it open, and took the fortune that was folded in half.

Opening it up, she immediately gasped, recognizing the kanji for Dai-kichi, or ‘great luck’. All aspects of her life for the rest of the year included excellent predictions, but included a haiku at the bottom. It read:

She had trouble with a couple of the kanji, but the rest of it was clear. An oni was waiting for her? Was she reading this wrong? She frowned, and noticed that the area she stood in was very quiet. She carefully folded her treasure of a fortune and tucked it into her kimono. Someone strong immediately yanked her back by both of her upper arms, a cloth covering her mouth quickly before she could cry out. Something smelled strange, and she lost all consciousness.

A phone rang in the office of an older gentleman dressed in an understated, but well-made forest green kimono. He picked it up, a frantic voice on the other end before he could open his mouth to greet the other on the line. He stood suddenly, and the guards stationed near him jumping to action.

“What is it, boss? You look excited.” The older man laughed, clapping his hands a couple of times with glee.

“Rejoice, your mistress has finally been found. The mark of the oni mistress, two moles situated on her outer right wrist have been confirmed. The ones stationed at the shrine today retrieved her. That was Kiichi now, calling to let me know he was on his way back here with her.” The men looked excited. One of them started shedding tears in the corner.

“BOSS! We gotta clean this place from top to bottom til’ it shines! We don’t wanna appear shabby to our new lady!” The old man laughed, slapping his thigh, pointing at his subordinate.

“You’re damn right… and I’ll help you. Air out my grandson’s old room for her to stay in, I’ll clean it up in a little while.” The old man looked severe, but his face lit up at the prospect of finally having grandchildren, and not worrying about his clan’s future.

Men and women were running through the halls, preparing the estate for their new lady’s arrival. The floors were cleaned until not even a speck of dust could be found in any crevice. A variety of side dishes for a meal were being prepared as well, and the old man walked through the entire compound, inspecting things quickly. He slid open the door to the room housing the shrine to the Oni god. He really hoped that this woman was the one they were looking for. He’d been waiting a decade for her to find her way to his family.

He frowned. Normally it did not take so long for the brides to make their way here. He wondered what delayed her, but found he couldn’t bring himself to be upset. If the shrine accepted her, she did her duty in making her way here. He knew his grandson could feel her… it was the same when his beloved wife came all the way from Brazil. It was the last time the compound was this lively… the clan would finally have another mistress running it.

There was a somber air over the place previously… he’d lost his son and daughter in law to a freak truck accident, that devastated his grandson, who hadn’t spoke for a year after they died. They pulled him out of middle school when it happened for a year since he would not speak, and home schooled him.

Worried for him, his wife tried to care for him up until he died of the Kidou clan blood illness. She’d died a year previously, and he visited her tamaya tablet in the room with the kamidana, to inform her about what happened. He lit incense and knelt, began to pray to her, knowing that she could hear him through their connection to the ayakashi realm, where she waited for him.

‘Wife, she is here! Finally! I hope that you offer her your protections from the grave, to give her strength to deal with any and all obstacles that she might face, just like you had. I will do my best from here, so that when it comes time for me to join you, I may do so proudly. The wait should not be much longer to correct the balance of our family. Please watch over us as you always do. I love you.’ He opened his eyes, and stared at her photo longingly. He missed her dearly, but he had a duty to ensure the clan would remain prosperous. She knew it too, and would wait patiently for him.

Standing quickly, he made his way to his grandson’s room, to change the futon, and to ready his new daughter to the world of oni.

Groggily coming to, she realized she was pressed between two bodies, sitting in a very spacious luxury car. Dread shooting down her spine and beside herself with fear, she began to shake a little. A clear, masculine voice rang out in front of her, snapping her out of her panic.

“Hey, don’t be afraid, miss. I told these idiots to just get ya back over here so I could talk to ya, and they panicked. Forgive them. My name is Kiichi Kidou, part of the branch family of Kidou.” She looked up to brown eyes so vivid they almost seemed red, a stylish cut framing his face and neck, as she looked him over. He was quite handsome, and looked to be somewhere around her age, in his 30’s.

“Am I going to die?” Her smooth contralto voice made the men shiver, and Kiichi’s eyes sparkled.

“Quite the opposite!” He shook his head, glaring at the men who flinched. Kiichi began to thoroughly chew them out in Japanese, she could tell by his tone. He turned back to her.

“You’ll be meeting the head of the clan and our boss, Mr. Mitsutane Kidou. He’s been looking forward to your arrival for a long time now.” She looked confused, but recognized something else first.

Yakuza. She’d been kidnapped by the Japanese mafia. Before she could control it, she began to giggle, and enchanted by the sound, Kiichi couldn’t help but ask.

“What do you find so amusing in this situation? I thought you’d be much more frightened.” Kiichi watched her carefully pull out a slip of paper, unfolding her omikuji.

“I received the greatest luck an omikuji offers just minutes before I got abducted by the yakuza. Surely you see how that can be funny, right Kiichi?” He felt something soft and filled with home at the way she said his name. For a moment, Kiichi was deeply jealous of his cousin, but squashed it down. She’d help make the clan feel like home again. Granny Kidou died tragically early, and they all felt it.

“I will say this, miss. You are indeed the luckiest woman in Japan.” She frowned when he turned his eyes back onto the road, not elaborating further. She settled back in her seat between the two men, discreetly looking around at the outside world, growing increasingly wild and beautiful in a way unfamiliar to her. Mount Iwaki loomed majestically in the distance, beautifully vibrant trees in red and gold dotting the landscape, bright green pines scattering reminding her a bit of home.

“I know how this will sound, but our compound is in a remote place. If you ran from us you would not get far, especially in clothing so restrictive.” She crossed her arms, pouting at him.

“I know you are yakuza, and have an honor code. As long as I don’t do anything stupid, you’ll leave me in one piece. I’m supposed to be meeting someone.” Kiichi’s eyes flashed, surprised that she knew so much, and was so calm about this. He could tell her mind was running a mile a minute, as she stared at the fortune in her hand determinedly.

It was not long before Kiichi pulled into a forested drive, the well-maintained cobble up the drive enchanting, the forest filled with more of the color that she’d seen on the way. Looking ahead, she could see an imposing compound made of slate gray stone and rich dark wood, the garden around manicured perfectly. Taking her by the arms, they led her into the compound. She was irritated by being chaperoned so closely, but it wasn’t as though her Japanese was good enough to tell them to knock it off, so she just let them. They were gentle.

Entering the genkan, they let her go and she took her shoes off stepping up on the wooden platform leading into the rest of the home, bending to adjust her shoes pointing out. She stood and looked at their surprised faces.

“What? I know what to do here.” She folded her hands together standing there, staring at them. A deep emotion flit across their features that she couldn’t understand, as they watched her stand there. She frowned, and they began to move at her displeasure. Taking their shoes off, they take her by the arms again, leading her into a large tatami mat room that housed the largest kamidana she’d ever seen, a smaller butsudan…. No, this was a Shinto household, so that was a tamaya. Recently visited, if the low and slightly smoking incense were any indication.

She was so fascinated that she didn’t realize they were dragging her up to the kamidana, a huge stone statue of an oni with ferocious fangs, wild hair, holding a club across his beefy shoulder, a sickle in his other hand outstretched. A tiger pelt with a drum decoration rested across his thighs, his feet large, toes with those same claws hidden behind a large shallow bowl at his feet. The strangest thing was that he had no horns.

She suddenly swore she could feel a presence behind this statue, but nobody was there. Taking her hand and drawing it to the statue, they slice her finger on its fangs, blood welling quick and wet, splashing heavily into the bowl at her and the stone oni’s feet. She yanked back reflexively, terrified. Was she just sacrificed to something?

She watched with fascinated horror at the stone sucking up the blood greedily, seeping through seemingly non porous rock until there was no evidence of her life force across it, not even on the parts that sprinkled messily, the one that took her hand giving her a cloth to stem the flow of blood.

A loud, obvious creaking click echoed throughout the entire compound resoundingly, loud footsteps echoing with increasing volume outside of the large room. Multiple men filed into the room quickly. To her surprise, half of them did not look fully Japanese at all, but half Japanese with other ethnic backgrounds. Her fear dissipated. These were people who understood her feelings about being othered.

The men that had grabbed her bowed at her feet, and so did the rest of the men in sweeping orderly fashion throughout the room, their foreheads touching the tatami mats, fully prostrated. All of a sudden, she could fully understand the men at her feet calling her mistress. Magic? There was no other way to learn Japanese instantly. She grew suspicious.

A door to the right slid open softly, an older man facing her. Clearly Japanese, but too tall to be considered average. Probably the boss she was supposed to meet, judging from his lavish attire. To her surprise, he too fell to his knees before her and bowed deeply.

“What is this about? You abduct me, and injure me on a kamidana only to bow at my feet? Make this make sense now.” For some reason, ordering them around felt… correct. The look of surprise on his face made her feel stupid for some reason… like he wasn’t expecting her to be aware. She supposed Shinto wasn’t a global religion, so his surprise was in good nature.

“I am surprised you know what this is… but I shouldn’t be. You were drawn to this country, weren’t you? Your blood is proof.” She felt a knot in her throat, and tried swallowing it down to no avail.

“I had always wanted to come to Japan yes, but once I read about this shrine, I wanted to see it. To see a being who most consider evil and beastly help people was inspiring… made me feel a little less alone.” She looked a bit sad, but looked out over the men who still refused to raise their heads, bowing at her. She looked uncomfortable, and the old man started.

“Where are my manners? I am Kidou Mitsutane, 87th Oni of Onizawa. Because that shrine accepted every drop of your blood, it is proof that you are the rightful mistress of Kidou, and will rule us toward prosperity. And because you are the highest rank in the room now as the liaison for the head of the clan, you must give them leave, or they will stay like that until you say otherwise.” She looked horrified, and raised her uninjured hand out to them.

“My name is Rachel Beck. I have no such titles or accolades, I am just a woman who loves this country. Please raise your heads. If you must know, I wield power very cautiously. I will be a kind mistress.” The men raised their heads, some of them filled with tears. Was her presence here really so moving? Turning back to Mitsutane, she addresses the unclear part that concerned her the most in the moment.

“What do you mean that I am the liaison? What in the world is going on?” Mitsutane stood, and walked over to her, inspecting the now bloodied kimono, which she looked down at with dread.

“I will tell you everything you need to know about what is happening, but we need to get you cleaned up. From which kimono shop did you rent from?” Mitsutane pulled out his phone, ready to call. She fidgeted.

“I cannot afford to replace this kimono…” she sounded small, which was unlike her earlier. Mitsutane put the phone down, and placed a hand on her shoulder. He needed to ask her a few questions about her life, to prepare her for her new one with them.

“It wouldn’t be right to make you do anything in this situation… I apologize for the way my subordinates treated you so roughly.” The two men at her feet flinched, and bowed again, almost flat against the floor in shame. Mitsutane continued. “I will be purchasing that kimono and the accessories from the shop in full. We will get your measurements, and get you about six more kimono sets to start.” Her eyes widened as he dialed the number of the shop she provided. She looked down at the two men practically begging her to step on them with how flat they made themselves on the ground.

“Face me.” She waited for them to sit up and look at her. Her face gentle, to their surprise. “Did you mean to scare me? Did anyone at the temple see you abduct me?” Surprised, the older of the two soke up.

“It was perfect timing. The bell told us you arrived, and we saw you standing at the main hall in prayer, surprised at the bell. We waited since then for you to be alone, and then took you. No one saw us with you. We didn’t know English well enough to persuade you. I am so sorry.” He bowed again, and lowered the head of the younger man as well. Rachel looked at the younger man’s hands, seeing cuts that looked like he was used to handling a knife for cooking.

“And you, you cook don’t you? I can tell by your hands.” The younger man, maybe a little younger than her looked happy that she noticed.

“Y-yes mistress, I do sometimes work in the kitchen here.” She smiled, and he melted a little. Their master would be comforted by this clever woman.

“Well then, I want you to bring me the best steak dinner you know how to make.” He perked up when he heard she wanted to eat meat.

“May I leave now to go to the market? We don’t have everything here that I need.” She nodded, and Mitsutane called after him when he booked it out of the room.

“Go with Kiichi, and tell him to use my card to get whatever you need!” A brief sound of acknowledgement, and he was gone. He turned to Rachel, who stood there awkwardly.

“You are the mistress of this house now. What do you want to do right now?” She thought for a moment. She wanted him to explain things, but he said he wouldn’t until she was bandaged up, and had new clothes.

“I want to go somewhere to get bandaged up, and talk about what is happening. I am at least owed an explanation.” He nodded, and lead her out of the room. She stopped at the door, addressing the men still in the room with a small bow.

“It was a pleasure to meet you all. If my fate is to be here, I would know each of you.” She turned and left, able to hear a few hiccups and wails of how kind she was. She thought it was strange. Did they think she’d be mean? She turned quickly and followed Mitsutane.

The halls were gleaming, freshly polished. They really did know she was coming, if the place was this spotless before her arrival. He led her into a room with a private stone garden, the ‘thunk’ of the shishi-odoshi surprisingly soft. She sat carefully so she didn’t drip blood on the expensive looking tatami, draping her injured hand on the table.

A maid in a simple dark kimono with white tiger stripe obi hurried in with a first aid kit. As she prepared what she’d need to bandage her hand, Rachel smiled at her. Mitsutane sat on the veranda admiring the garden in the cool but sunny and still warmer early fall, while the leaves still dressed the trees fully.

“Thank you for your help.” The young woman, maybe 20 turned red, her light dusting of freckles and lighter brown hair complimenting her cheeks.

“Of course.” She moved quickly, disinfecting and applying medicine, binding it in tacky cloth until her pointer was firmly encased. Standing and bowing, she quickly left as swift as she came, and Mitsutane only began to speak as soon as the door slid closed, her feet pattering away from the room.

“This is a tale as old as time, but you are here because you were destined to be. There may have been signs, but the most salient would be your desire to come to our country. This is by design. You are meant to carry on the Kidou name with my grandson Isshiki, who will become the next Oni of Onizuka, the 88th. A sacred number to us.” Mitsutane paused, glancing back at her curious face with a pleased surprise.

“Can you elaborate? And where is Isshiki?” A strange feeling echoed through her, a twinge she’d never felt before. Mitsutane watched as she pressed her hand to her heart, as she said his grandson’s name. He smiled. He would trust the Oni to guide him. His next words were uttered carefully.

“Make no mistake, your desire and love for this country is real, not a fabrication of something drawing you here. We aren’t sure exactly when, but when our next oni gets deathly ill, we know that the next mistress of Kidou had awakened her desire so strong to come, we’d begin preparing for your arrival, and the cycle begins anew.” Rachel looked mystified, so Mitsutane began to tell a story.

“A severe drought ravaged the lands we currently reside on, to the point the villagers would die from starvation during the winter if they did not so something about it. The oni that lived on Mount Iwaki came down to see the villagers lamenting the crops, and studied them for a while. After a time, he crept away into the night with the closest tool to him… a hoe.” Rachel looked invested, propping her chin up on her uninjured hand, large doe brown eyes riveted. Mitsutane smiled a little as he continued.

“The oni snuck away into the night, looking for a nearby body of water for them to use. Once found he dug tirelessly for 88 hours straight before reaching their fields of rice and barley. The villagers could hardly believe they were saved, and thus revered the oni as a God, erecting the Ki-Jinja shrine you see before you today on the very spot he dropped the hoe he’d used to save the village.” It sounded like the story was done, but the older man kept talking.

“The oni was pleased at the acceptance of the villagers, and vowed he would protect and provide for the lands for as long as his line existed. Legends say the first oni was he himself, taking a human wife, just as Isshiki will take you, if you will have him.” Rachel looked shocked. A marriage offer for a man she’d never even met or spoken to? She couldn’t help herself, blurting out her thoughts.

“You do understand how insane that sounds, don’t you? I have never met your grandson, and he has never known me.” Mitsutane smiled a secretive smile that made her burn with curiosity at the assuredness behind it.

“Partly untrue. Isshiki has been waiting ten years, glimpses of his beautiful bride and her power dangled in front of him like meat would be to a hungry tiger. He is ravenous to have you, and I think any woman would appreciate the intensity of an oni’s affection. I can feel his power from even here.” Something in that phrase made Rachel think of the kamidana, and she shivered.

“You never told me where Isshiki is. If he is so eager to devour me like you say, he would be here trying to win me over.” Mitsutane laughed heartily, slapping his knee with a hand heavily a few times.

“Whether you like it or not, you are a perfect oni bride! Shrewd and ruthless. Well, if you would like, we can meet him tonight. But I need you to listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you, and do not judge. I am bound to tell you so you can make an informed decision, but the less people know the process, the better.” Rachel looked so curious even she knew she looked like he’d just caught her by the collar and lifted her.

“Whatever you tell me will not leave this room.” Rachel looked desperate to know what he was going to tell her.

“Isshiki cannot meet you, because he is dead.”