Behind it, more shapes. A noppera-bō with a blank face turning Yuka’s own features back at her like a mirror. A jorōgumo spider-woman whose legs clicked on the bridge stones. And deeper, darker things—yokai that had been sealed so long they had forgotten their own names, but not their hunger.
Of course, she broke it. A little. A chip no bigger than a rice grain. yuka scattered shard of yokai
It wasn't a large shard—no bigger than a broken teacup's handle. But it was a yokai shard, which meant it had once belonged to a creature that existed in the margin between a blink and a breath. The thing it came from had no name anymore; the shard was all that remained after a shrine priestess had purified it two centuries ago. Now, it hummed with the ghost of mischief. Behind it, more shapes
The kappa took one step forward.