"Wake up, Asahi! Get up!"
Koyoi shook Asahi’s shoulder with desperate strength, trying to pull him from the depths of a heavy slumber.
Asahi was wide awake in a heartbeat. Before his mind could even register the situation, his hand flew to the hilt of the sword by his pillow—a warrior’s reflex carved into his marrow through years on the battlefield. As he bolted upright, the stagnant air of the room shifted violently, sliced by his sudden movement like a keen blade.
The damp night had settled into the shoji paper. The scent of old wood mingled with the faint, lingering smoke of the hearth. Asahi’s presence was so overwhelming that Koyoi’s pulse thundered in her ears. For a fleeting second, she almost regretted waking him.
"...What is it? An attack?"
"No. But something worse. Kuon... the boy from the apothecary, is trying to fight alone."
Forcing the words out, Koyoi breathlessly explained the situation. She spoke of the Moon God being degraded into a mere battery by the Observers, and how Kuon was a victim of their experiments—a shard of glass designed to 'see' the divine had been implanted in his body.
And now, he was prepared to die to stop them.
"I see... The Moon God, then."
Asahi stood, exhaling sharply as if purging the last of his sleep.
"So that’s why the kid’s eye looked so strange. Hell of a mess we've stumbled into."
Though he grumbled, his hands moved with startling precision as he adjusted his gear. He bound his tabi socks and secured his heavy sword to his back with fluid, practiced motions. There wasn't a trace of hesitation in him.
"Let’s go. I can’t sleep soundly while humans toy with a god."
Asahi slid the shoji open soundlessly. The pale, ominous night air rushed in, stealing the room's warmth. Koyoi pressed her palm against the pouch at her waist, soothing the anxious stirrings of the spirits within as she followed him.
The midnight town was so quiet it felt frozen in time.
The tavern lights were long dead. Lanterns swayed in a dry wind, casting monstrous shadows across the cobblestones. Every step echoed with a heavy thud that seemed to tear through the shroud of the night. They threaded through the dark gaps between buildings, slipping toward the back entrance of the apothecary where Kuon waited.
"The old woman is sound asleep," Kuon whispered, turning a rusted key. "Keep your presence suppressed."
The hinges gave a faint shriek. Koyoi held her breath, but the rhythmic, peaceful breathing of the old woman continued from the back room.
The woman knew nothing. She didn't know that the 'guardian deity' of her shop was about to be taken out into the world. Kuon stared toward the back room for a moment, biting his lip as if swallowing a surge of regret.
Inside, the shop was filled with an eerie stillness. The scent of dried herbs, condensed by the night chill, was sharp enough to prick the throat.
Shadows of the shelves stretched like undulating arms across the floor. Bundles of dried grass rustled in the draft—a dry, papery sound like a whispered hallucination. Koyoi walked toward the glass cabinet in the furthest corner.
In the darkness, it alone radiated an alien presence.
The Glass Eye.
A mystical sphere that trapped the gloom of the night, yet held a single point of piercing blue light at its core. It seemed to be drinking in the moonlight; beyond the layers of glass, Koyoi felt a faint, certain warmth—a tremor like a human tear.
As it drew in the cold light, it pulsed with a haunting rhythm. It was watching her.
"...Vidro."
Koyoi spoke the name with the gentleness used for a fragile heirloom. In response, the Glass Eye emitted a brilliant flash.
"Koyoi. I’ve been... waiting."
The voice echoed directly in her mind, clearer and more desperate than before. It was a delicate, breakable sound, like glass ornaments rubbing together. Koyoi’s chest ached as if pricked by a shard. She could feel the pain of a god trapped in a lonely cage for an eternity, using its last strength to speak.
"Take me away. Give me back the freedom that was stolen."
"That loathsome, sky-burning red light... I want to reflect it all back."
The red light—the glow of the Observers' ritual. Even in its cage, Vidro had sensed the ill omen. It wasn't just waiting for rescue; it wanted to fight.
"I’ll take you. I promise."
With trembling fingers, Koyoi opened the glass door. A stale silence flowed out like a cold gust. She reached for the blue sphere with a prayer in her heart.
It was freezing, like a lump of ice drained of life. Yet at its core, a fierce heat pulsed—a deep rage against the divine degradation, and a thread of hope for the girl who had come for it. The piercing cold resonated in Koyoi’s bones. In that moment, her soul understood: Vidro was no mere craftwork. It was a living god that knew the pain of being stolen, yet still sought to stand.
"...Come to me."
Koyoi untied her pouch. Inside, the Wind God was already waiting with a soft cradle of breeze. The Glass Eye defied gravity, floating into the air with effortless grace. Bathed in moonlight, it slid smoothly into the pouch.
Chime.
A clear, metallic sound vibrated through the air. It was the essence of the Wind and the Glass touching for the first time. It was a new covenant—lonely deities joining hands, bound to a single boy.
"Welcome, Glass Maiden," the Wind God whistled cheerfully. "You’ve got quite the backbone."
"It is an honor, Great Wind," Vidro replied, her voice steady. "Let us protect Koyoi... together."
The pouch grew heavy with a tangible weight—the gravity of her new responsibility. Koyoi pulled the drawstring tight, securing it so it would never come undone.
"You done?" Asahi beckoned from the door, his sword already drawn. "Move. Time won't wait."
Kuon stood in the heavy silence, staring at the empty shelf. His expression was a mix of loneliness and profound relief. With a trembling hand, he placed a small scrap of paper on the corner of the shelf.
“I’m going. Stay well, Grandmother.”
Koyoi nodded. She knew that if she spoke, his resolve might crumble. She could feel the conflict in him: the debt to the woman who raised him versus the primal fear of rotting away in this narrow town.
"...This is for the best," Kuon said. "The shop's guardian is gone."
"Kuon... do you regret it?"
Kuon let out a small, self-deriding laugh. "Hardly. For a hundred years, that thing could do nothing but watch the world wither from a dusty cage. It wanted to leave."
"For a god, being forgotten in a moldy shop is an eternal hell."
Kuon turned to her, his gaze piercing. His glass left eye reflected the moon, glowing sharper than ever.
"Its true power is 'Reflection.' It repels all interference. Every light, every curse, every gaze that tries to capture it... it reflects them all."
"Koyoi. Are you prepared to wield that?"
"...I don't know yet. But I know I have to."
"Then that’s enough. Let’s go."
Outside, the wind had turned savage. An unnaturally lukewarm gust blew from the summit, thick with the scent of iron and blood. From a gap in the clouds, the red moon sneered down at the world. A sound like a distant earth-tremor—the rhythmic pounding of massive drums—crawled across the ground.
The ritual had begun.
"What a disgusting light," Asahi said, pointing toward the peak. A heavy pillar of crimson light thrusted toward the heavens, consuming the moon’s radiance.
"Hurry!" Kuon shouted, sprinting ahead. "Before the moon is reduced to a mere battery!"
Koyoi followed, her heart hammering like a warning bell. She was terrified; her legs shook so violently she felt she might collapse. But she didn't stop. She knew that if she did, the sorrowful moon would be lost forever.
Inside the pouch, the two divine essences resonated, striking her side in hot waves. She could feel them pushing her forward.
Wait for us, Moon God. We are coming to break the cage.
The three shadows ran under the ruthless red light. Their destination: the summit of Tsukimidai. The sound of their sandals on dry stone was small, yet defiant.
Koyoi gasped for air, her lungs burning, but the weight at her waist felt more reliable than ever. The path grew steeper, her breath turning white in the chill. She never looked back. She knew that even a glimpse of the town's lights would expose her weakness.
The night wind brushed cruelly against her, her clothes heavy with dew. Between the unwavering wills of Kuon and Asahi, Koyoi heard the frantic rhythm of three hearts beating as one—the sound of fear, but also the noble stride of those seeking to save a god.
Each time she touched the icy mountain stones, she was reminded of Vidro’s warmth. No matter how cold the world became, she would not let the Observers extinguish the flame in her chest. She checked her pouch one last time, tightening the knot with all her soul.
From the celestial abyss, she thought she heard the Moon God’s agonizing scream. She rubbed her freezing hands and blew warm breath onto her fingers. The voice was still far away, but drawing closer with every step.
Amidst the howling wind, Koyoi nodded with firm resolve and ran once more into the darkness. The night had only just begun. Etching the cold sensation of the stones into her feet, she matched her stride to the uncertain future.