Strongest Among the Heavens

"These carvings..." Pat, pat, pat. The famed samurai was really trying to get her attention. Marta was too deep in her thoughts to care. "What are they? Any guesses?"

"Oh, those?" Kojiro retreated, a tinge annoyed, and crossed his arms. He grew curious too, analyzing to no avail. They were mirrors of each other with their arms crossed and their heads tilted. "Izanami was agitated last I heard. She has been seeing the same view for years and it has only grown stronger. That is what they say anyway."

"A view...?"

"Of the Hydra."

Kojiro pointed at the stone markings; of Yamata-no-orochi.

"The one that consumes magic."

Marta’s eyes followed the flames again. "The black tower...the Heavenly Tower...?" Her gaze flicked over to Kojiro. "You mentioned that people lose their wills here, right? How come you haven’t?"

"I am Sasaki Kojiro."

"..."

A beat passed. "Obviously, not all of Yomi is the same. Some are...moderately habitable, although perhaps that is being too generous. There is no satisfaction from eating or drinking—and we cannot cultivate any food or drinks either. We are spirits that simply roam. The ones here in Matsue are said to be among the oldest, born from when Japan was first founded. With age comes not despair but doddery."

"Right, right..."