The moonlight filtered weakly through the canopy, silver threads weaving over the forest floor as the Daughter of the Spider Family ran. Her breath came ragged, uneven, filled with panic. She had spent so long keeping up appearances—playing the part of the obedient daughter, the perfect family member—and now everything was falling apart. Rui would not forgive failure. He never did.
"This is the only time… I've ever messed up," she muttered, her voice trembling. The words felt hollow in the night air, devoured by the endless hum of insects and the creak of branches. "He'll kill me… I know he will."
Her legs burned as she ran through the undergrowth, silk threads spilling unconsciously from her fingertips, brushing against bark and branches. She didn't even notice the scent of humans until it was too late.
A flicker of movement ahead—a sword gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
"Demon!" cried Murata, drawing his blade.
But before he could take a stance, the Daughter reacted purely on instinct. Her hands snapped forward, threads exploding from her palms in a white blur. The silk struck him mid-motion, cocooning him in an instant. His sword hand froze mid-air, trapped like an insect in a spider's web.
Murata gritted his teeth, twisting and pulling, trying to free himself. "Damn it! It's too thick—!"
He slashed desperately, but the blade only bounced off. The more he fought, the tighter the silk drew around him. And then, to his horror, he felt a strange warmth spreading against his skin.
The smell hit him next—acrid, sharp, burning.
"Wh-what…?" he gasped, his voice breaking as thin smoke began to rise from the cocoon.
The Daughter turned toward him, her expression empty but her tone almost wistful. "My threads are special," she murmured. "They're coated with acid. It will eat through your clothes first… then your flesh… then your bones." She smiled faintly, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "When it's done, I'll… devour what's left."
Murata's muffled shout echoed into the night.
And then, without warning, a soft voice spoke from behind the demon—light and lilting, like a spring breeze.
"Oh my," it said. "That's quite an impressive ability. Does the silk come from your palms?"
The Daughter froze.
Her body went rigid, every muscle tightening as she turned her head slowly. Behind her stood a woman in a butterfly-patterned haori, the moonlight painting her in silver. Her eyes were bright and kind, but they held no mercy.
"Good evening," Shinobu Kocho greeted cheerfully. "Lovely moon tonight, isn't it?"
Before the Daughter could react, silk shot from her hands, slicing through the air toward the Hashira.
But Shinobu was gone.
A gentle flutter, a rustle of leaves—and suddenly, the Insect Hashira was right in front of her. A hand pressed her down, forcing her to the ground with a grace so effortless it was almost cruel.
"You seem tense," Shinobu remarked lightly. "No need to panic."
The Daughter struggled, trembling. "Please—listen to me! I don't want to fight! I'm being forced to do this! If I disobey him, he'll kill me! Please!"
"'Him'?" Shinobu echoed, tilting her head.
The Daughter nodded desperately, eyes wide with terror. "I don't want to die… please, don't kill me! I'll stop—I'll do anything!"
Shinobu smiled softly. "Hmm. That's a problem, isn't it?"
Her tone remained sweet, almost teasing, but there was something chilling in her calmness.
"I could let you go," she mused aloud. "But before I decide, I'd like to ask you one thing."
The Daughter looked up, hope flickering in her eyes. "A-anything! I'll tell you anything!"
Shinobu's gaze softened further, though her voice never lost that hauntingly serene edge. "How many people have you killed?"
The question hung in the air like a blade.
The Daughter's lips quivered. Her throat tightened as she stared at the ground, unable to meet the Hashira's eyes. "F-five," she whispered at last. Her voice cracked, trembling as she began to cry. "I didn't want to… I had to! He told me to—he said he'd tear me apart if I refused!"
Shinobu sighed gently, the expression on her face unreadable. Her eyes flicked briefly toward the cocooned Murata, then back to the sobbing demon pinned beneath her hand.
"I see," she said softly.
~~~