The shrine stood where the mountain gave way to the lowlands.
Unlike the crude stone altars scattered through the wilderness, this place had been built with intention—wooden pillars darkened by age, roof tiles curved like resting wings, and sacred ropes heavy with prayer charms that whispered softly in the wind. Moss crept up the steps as though the earth itself wished to reclaim it, yet the structure remained firm, unyielding.
"This is an old one," Senji said quietly as they approached. "Predates most provincial borders."
Kaito squinted up at the torii gate. "Looks like the kind of place where spirits judge you silently."
Haruka didn't look amused. "They don't judge. They observe."
Raizen felt it the moment he stepped onto the shrine grounds.
The poison inside his blood reacted—not violently, but uneasily. Like a trapped animal sensing fire.
"Good," Haruka murmured, noticing the shift in his breathing. "That means the barrier is working."
Aoi stayed close, eyes sharp, fists loose at her sides. Mika lingered near the rear, scanning the tree line with practiced calm.
No Tsuchigumo followed them here.
That alone made the place dangerous.
⸻
The Shrine's Truth
They were met by no priest.
No welcoming bell rang.
Instead, the shrine itself responded.
As Haruka placed her palm against the main pillar, the air thickened. The scent of incense rose without flame. The ropes trembled faintly.
"This shrine isn't maintained by men anymore," Senji said. "It hasn't been for generations."
Kaito frowned. "Then why hasn't it collapsed?"
Haruka answered without looking back. "Because something else took responsibility."
Raizen's vision blurred for a moment. The ground beneath his feet felt heavier—solid, ancient, aware.
"This shrine was built to seal blood curses," Haruka continued. "Not remove them. Bind them. Force them into balance."
Aoi glanced at Raizen. "That sounds comforting. In a very terrifying way."
Haruka nodded once. "If the poison overwhelms him, the shrine will kill him before it spreads."
Kaito choked. "YOU COULD'VE LEAD WITH THAT."
Raizen exhaled slowly. "It's fine."
Everyone turned to him.
He met their gazes calmly. "If this poison remains unchecked, it will kill more than just me."
Aoi clicked her tongue, annoyed. "You're annoyingly reasonable."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
⸻
Preparation
They cleared the inner sanctum.
The floor was carved with concentric rings—symbols older than modern script. Haruka recognized them instantly.
"These are grounding circles. He needs to sit at the center."
Raizen removed his outer garments and knelt bare-armed on the stone. The blackened veins along his shoulder and chest were visible now, pulsing faintly.
Kaito winced. "That looks… bad."
"Good observation," Mika said dryly.
Haruka began laying herbs around the circle—roots dried until brittle, leaves powdered fine, small vials of liquid dark as ink.
"These plants don't cure poison," she explained. "They force the body to remember itself."
Aoi raised an eyebrow. "That's vague."
"Most important things are."
Kaito muttered, "That doesn't make me feel better."
⸻
The Ritual Begins
Haruka pressed her fingers against Raizen's sternum.
"Breathe slow. Count with me."
Raizen obeyed.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The shrine responded.
The stone beneath him warmed. The symbols glowed faintly. The poison reacted instantly, surging through his veins like fire seeking oxygen.
Raizen's jaw tightened, but he did not cry out.
His vision fractured.
⸻
Within the Blood
He stood in a field of black threads.
They stretched endlessly, woven through memories.
Burning homes.
The Yamato clan banner torn and trampled.
Blood soaking into soil.
And beneath it all—something crawling, whispering, waiting.
You endure, a voice murmured.
Then endure this.
The threads tightened.
Raizen sank to one knee inside his own mind.
Then another presence arrived.
Not hostile.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Like the earth itself had leaned closer.
You carry borrowed venom, it said.
Will you let it name you?
Raizen steadied his breath.
"No," he answered calmly.
The threads trembled.
⸻
Reality
Raizen's body convulsed.
Black blood burst from the wound in thick, viscous streams, hissing as it struck the stone. Haruka immediately adjusted the ritual, chanting sharply.
Aoi moved without thinking—grabbing Raizen's shoulders, anchoring him to the ground.
"Stay with us," she snapped.
His fingers twitched.
Mika silently repositioned the herbs as Haruka commanded, movements precise, unshaken.
Kaito hovered uselessly. "Is… is he supposed to look like that?"
"No," Haruka said. "But he's resisting."
Raizen gasped.
The poison surged once more—and then stalled.
The black veins receded slightly.
The shrine pulsed.
Then stilled.
⸻
Aftermath
Raizen collapsed forward, unconscious—but breathing evenly.
The poison remained, but it no longer spread freely.
Haruka slumped back, exhausted. "It's bound. Not gone. But slowed."
Aoi didn't let go immediately.
She only released him once she was sure his breathing was steady.
"…Idiot," she muttered softly.
Kaito exhaled loudly. "So he's not dead. That's a win. I'll take it."
Mika nodded. "His resistance has improved. The poison will no longer adapt as quickly."
Senji studied the shrine walls. "This place didn't just help him. It recognized him."
Raizen stirred faintly.
When he woke, the pain was different—not sharp, not burning. Heavy, dull, survivable.
Haruka smiled faintly. "You did well."
Raizen sat up slowly. "How long?"
"A few hours."
Kaito leaned in. "You screamed internally. Very brave."
Raizen blinked. "I did?"
"No. But you looked like you wanted to."
Aoi snorted despite herself.
⸻
What Comes Next
As they prepared to leave, Senji spoke quietly.
"This shrine marks the end of safe ground."
Haruka nodded. "Beyond here are trade roads. Cities. Castles."
Mika added, "And Tsuchigumo don't hide in forests alone. They infiltrate courts. Shrines. Kingdoms."
Raizen rose to his feet—steadier now, eyes clear.
"Then that's where we go," he said.
Aoi cracked her knuckles. "Good. I'm tired of mountains."
Kaito stretched. "Cities mean food. Actual food. I support this plan."
The shrine watched them depart.
The earth remained silent.
And somewhere far beyond the valley, something ancient shifted—aware that the marked blade still walked.