Chapter Text
I'm so sorry that it's taking so long for the next chapter. On top of having a major writer's block, I'm moving. I have gotten a job in a hospital a state over and I'm in the process of packing my things from my parent's house so it's going to take a little longer. In the process of the writer's block, I have came up with two new stories: An FF7 Vincent Valentine pairing fic and a One Punch Man Saitama pairing fic.
Anyway, I'm sure you're all here for the Chapter Six Preview so here you go.
I place my hand on the trunk of the nearest tree. Like the other trees surrounding us it towers over me, a natural skyscraper that joins the others in blocking the view of the neighboring town. As a little girl, riding on top of my grandfather's shoulders, the seclusion the trees brought made the shrine feel like another world. Feudal Japan brought to life once more. I imagined myself as a princess going into hiding to escape evil.
Now I look past the stone staircase at the bottom of the shrine, remembering those days. Well, I'm no princess. Once I'm through here, evil will be the one escaping me. No one is going to harm my friends again.
I walk up the steps and stand before the talisman-covered torii meant to ward off demons. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I step forward through the gate.
My breath escapes in a gasp. Fiery pain envelopes my heart. I clutch my shirt convulsively, dimly registering my knees hit the ground.
What is this? Why...?
Grandfather. Grandfather will know what to do. I just... have... to reach.....
I drag myself forward, through the invisible force blocking the torii inch by excruciating inch.
The force disappears halfway through, along with the fiery attack. I lay gasping on the ground, rubbing the phantom ache.
I shove myself to my knees, gulping air like no tomorrow.
"Holy hell," I demand of the universe once my brain has enough oxygen to function.
Naturally, that is when a bamboo sword flies at me. I screech, rolling out of the way of the first strike, but earning a painful welt on my leg from the second.
"Shameful," bellows a familiar voice, old and weathered like the man who wields it, "To think such a short climb has knocked my granddaughter out of breath!"