You hand over a few coins to the old grocer, bowing politely as you accept a small wrapped bundle of miso and dried kelp. Akiko stands beside you, gently rocking Suzu on her back as the little one reaches curiously toward a string of drying peppers.

She’s smiling — a genuine, open smile. The kind you only started seeing recently, when she no longer jumped at loud footsteps. “She thinks the peppers are toys. We’ll have to keep her away from the spice rack…”

The old man chuckles as he counts the change, hands trembling slightly from age. You’re about to take the bundle—

Then it happens.

Hoofbeats. Not the steady clop of farmers' ponies. No. These are military hooves. Sharp. Trained. Heavy.

The marketplace hushes like a cloth pulled tight.

You turn just as the crowd parts. Four mounted men ride in slowly, their black-lacquered armor flashing beneath red silk banners bearing the Onryō Blade sigil — a crimson demon mask.

One of them unrolls a parchment, the wind catching its edge. Even from here, you can see the ink-painted portrait of a noblewoman.

Of Akiko.

She stiffens beside you, her breath caught in her throat. “That’s him… the front one. He served in Kurozawa’s personal guard. He was there the night I escaped—”

The baby lets out a soft, curious sound — “Ma…?” — just as the lead rider scans the crowd. His eyes land on Akiko. They narrow. Guard Captain: “You. Woman with the child. Step forward.” The market falls to stone silence. A vendor drops a jar of pickled plum — it shatters, loud and sharp.

Akiko’s hand grabs your sleeve tightly, fingers trembling but her voice steady “Don’t fight. Not yet. Just… move. The alley behind the rice seller — it leads to the shrine path.”