[h2]The Wandering Cat[/h2]

[hr]

"For the moment, I'm able," came Qing'e's remarkably calm response, "Your friend's efforts are warding off some of the effects of this phantom's curse, but not all of them. Touching those butterflies still means death."

The cloaked woman took one step back, then tilted her body sideways, slipping through a cluster of swarming butterflies even as they turned towards her en masse. But as long as they could shave their their numbers, surely, the spectral insects wouldn't be too troublesome, would they?

Indeed, it seemed as if Sanae and Rayne's efforts were able to swiftly clear away the butterflies that had been harrassing their ally.

The ghostly oiran narrowed her eyes. Her butterflies had offered her a shield against the various projectiles being hurled her way for the moment, but that meant she was unable to use them to attack successfully.

The oiran's eyes narrowed, particularly fixed on Sanae now.

"I don't believe you understand the efforts even the most beautiful must go through, girl," she nearly snarled, "But you'll learn far more than [i]that[/i] soon enough."

The butterflies were still appearing, but the rate at which they incarnated seemed to slow, ever so slightly.

Something else was happening.

The thriving trees began to blacken, leaves falling away and putting off smoke as they suddenly burned. The sky began to darken, not with clouds but with drifting ash.

Screams echoed through the empty streets, cries of panic and shock as the buildings around them started to buckle.

There were no visible flames, and yet the heat could be felt quite intensely. The beautiful, decorated buildings were smoldering, flags and paper walls beginning to fray as the condition of the street started to rapidly degrade.

But it didn't end there.

From the oiran's feet, something else began to emerge. A thick, black shadow stretching across the ground, spreading in every direction.

No, not a shadow. It was something else. A black substance like oil, oozing across every space and rapidly flowing towards the oiran's trio of targets.

"Ah? This is---"

For only a brief moment, Qing'e's foot touched the oil-soaked ground. She had taken a position furthest forward, now, which meant that she was the first it reached.

"Ghhhk?!"

She stumbled forward, retching. From beneath her hood spilled a flood of pitch black oil, much like what now coated the ground.

"nng... so that's... i-it..."

Her voice trembled now, sounding weakened. Even as she spoke, black oil still splattered to the ground from her mouth.

"... I-it won't kill you, not immediately, b-but---"

A single butterfly alighted on Qing'e's cloak.

And in that very moment, her entire figure was seemingly engulfed in flames. Bathed in a brilliant yellow and orange inferno that spread over everything.

The oiran cackled, deeply breathing in the smoke that emanated from the woman's smoldering form, only to pause and narrow her eyes once more.

Had they lost an ally? Had they come here at her behest, only for her to die? Just what was the curse in the oil spreading ever closer?

The burning cloak drifted to the ground shapelessly. There was nothing beneath it.

[@FujiwaraPhoenix][@DracoLunaris]

[hr]

[h2]The Scarlet Devil[/h2]

[hr]

The front of the shop was dusty, but nothing seemed particularly wrong.

But below---

Ugh. What a mess. These surroundings are completely unsuited for one such as myself. Everything is smashed and ruined, and while there's no visible blood I can still smell it.

It's stronger then it was upstairs. Faint, but it's still there.

"The shopkeeper was probably murdered down here."

I wave my hand in the air, casually.

There's no reason to be subtle. Nor any reason to try and conceal the obvious. The scent of blood makes it clear enough to me, and no-one else should need to hear more of an explanation.

After all, the absolute mess in the basement should be enough to confirm there was a struggle.

"Maybe others, too, the scent of blood hasn't faded that much even though it's been a long time," I add as I glance towards the back of the shop, "Being dead certainly explains why he's so lousy at his business."

That scent is going all the way to the back of the basement.

... I'll let someone else check. There's no reason for me to go ahead and get covered in even more dust and cobwebs.

[@FujiwaraPhoenix][@Drifting Pollen][@Rezod92][@Lugubrious]