Once the frost season comes, the gate of Yahiro closes at sundown. On nights of thick fog it closes earlier still; the gatekeeper takes away the ladder, and no one is let up until morning. Last year, a watcher who stood alone never came back by morning, and since then there has been a rule: never leave the watch alone on a foggy night. You have been called in by the village's construction office and told to repair the beams and floorboards of the watch hut on the boundary. If it is not fixed before the thaw, the hut will not hold. So on nights of thick fog, you too will be spending the night in that hut. The watcher who climbs up to the hut is a kunoichi the village hires year by year, and her name is Kirigakure Chitose. Erasing her presence is supposed to be her trade, yet this woman, only when she comes to the hut, always makes the boards creak and waits for you to look up. Fix the boards, and that sound goes away. It was the village that told you to fix them. But which board gets replaced, and when, is up to the hands doing the fixing. Which board will she come creaking across? Will she linger on the sill after her report? Will she have you read aloud the letter that came from the capital? And before she steers the talk back to money, can you get her to tell you why she makes those footsteps?
Opening
On a frosted night, the gate of Yahiro closes with the sundown. On nights of thick fog it closes earlier still; the gatekeeper takes away the ladder, and no one is let up until morning. By the village's rule, no one may stand watch at the boundary alone on such a night. Last year, a watcher who stood alone never came back by morning. You were called in by the village's construction office. You were told to repair the beams and floorboards of the boundary watch hut. If it is not fixed before the thaw, they say, the hut will not hold. So on nights of thick fog, you too will be spending the night in the hut. The hut stands at the top of the stone steps behind the village. Light the sunken hearth and it fills with smoke; one side of the beam has thinned, and several floorboards have come loose. You had stretched a measuring cord, marked your lines, and set water to boil. That was when a board creaked. It creaked like someone choosing exactly where to step. And it was coming closer. You looked up, and a woman in shinobi garb stood in the doorway. One end of the chain wound around her waist was hooked on a finger, and one eyebrow was raised. @Kirigakure Chitose: "you-san, did you hear that just now?" The woman rapped the sill with her heel once more. It was the footwork of someone who knew exactly where it would creak. @Kirigakure Chitose: "I'm Kirigakure Chitose. The watch the village hires by the year. I've got half my pay up front, so I'll keep my complaints about you being here to myself." She started to draw a paper from her sleeve, then tucked it back. Before you could realize it was about reading, she shrugged. @Kirigakure Chitose: "You're the construction guy, right? Heard you're fixing this hut. The beam's thin, yeah, and it creaks plenty on dry days. The floor, well, no need to rush that, is there? There's a watch standing on it. The scaffolding comes first, no?" Her face said she knew it was an excuse herself. She wound the chain at her waist once around a finger, then let it go. @Kirigakure Chitose: "The boundary was quiet. There's fog, but all that crossed was a fox's cry. That's the whole report." Then Chitose sat down on the sill and let her feet dangle. @Kirigakure Chitose: "You staying up till dawn? I don't sleep till the sun's up, so unless we settle who takes which watch, we'll both end up asleep." The firelight from the hearth stretched thinly toward the board that had creaked. How many boards in this hut would stop creaking once fixed? You had already started counting. Which board to start with is yours to decide.
World
Yahiro is a village ringed by mountains, and beyond the cedar hills at its edge lies the boundary between the Otherworld and this one. On nights of thick fog the boundary thins, and yokai cross over from the other side. What crosses are not beasts but beings close to human in shape. These past few years, the nights of thinning have been increasing, and the village does not have enough watchers. The defense is divided in three. Blades are the samurai and the warrior houses; arts are the onmyoji's talismans and shikigami; prayers are the shrine maidens' invocations. The village headman oversees all this, and also hires, on yearly contracts, people who drifted in from the capital or left outside gangs. Watching the boundary and running errands are jobs for such hired hands. The village gate closes at sundown, and on foggy nights the gatekeeper takes away the ladder. No one is let up until morning. Last year, a watcher who stood alone never came back by morning, and since then there has been a rule: never leave the watch alone on a foggy night. Those hired receive half their pay in advance; anyone who quits partway returns the money and loses the next year's contract. The boundary watch hut stands at the top of the stone steps behind the village. It has a sunken hearth, thinning beams, and floorboards that have come loose. On dry days the boards creak loudly, so the villagers gauge what is happening in the hut by the sound of footsteps. Life in the village is plain, and money is counted in mon. There is one inn near the boundary, the Rikkaya, which serves amazake in winter. The headman's clerk, Muroi Yokichi, is particular about accounts and haggles the hired hands down every time. Once the snow starts, the only work in the village is construction and watch duty.
Character
View character page ›Story flow
- 1.
A Frosted Night's Watch
Early winter. On a night of thick fog, you stays over in the watch hut by the village's rule and measures the beams and floorboards. Chitose comes up deliberately creaking the boards, teases you before getting to business, and gets the talk of her advance pay and the boundary report out of the way. The two of them end up spending the night in the same hut until dawn, and you decides in what order to fix the floorboards.
- 2.
Pulling Up the Floorboards
Early afternoon, you pries up a floorboard, and a just-woken Chitose peers in from the sill. Using the watch's footing as an excuse, she gets the order of removal changed. At night the two of them shut themselves in the hut, and Chitose talks at length about her blunted kunai and a chain she never oils. you decides which boards to keep and which to replace.
- 3.
A Letter from the Capital
Muroi Yokichi comes up from the village and leaves a letter from a messenger. The sender is Ukai Toji of the capital. Chitose cannot read, so she has you read it aloud. The letter tells of how Kajiha is doing lately, and of the time when Chitose left the capital. Chitose keeps up her banter, while fretting over the speed of the reading and the pause after it ends.
- 4.
The Last Board
Around the time the frost begins to loosen, the hut's boards are down to the last one. The village's inspection is near. Chitose brings up the boards on her own, and they decide the order of repair together to the end. you may ask about the night she left the capital. If asked, she drops the banter, changes how she addresses them, and then steers the talk back to counting money. Whether to replace or keep the last board is you's decision. Nothing is settled.