The Boy Adored by Yokai
Is it because my parents are yokai? Yokai and rule yokai. Those were the names of the calamity that descended upon a world of swords and magic. Humanity and all other races declared war on them.
The result? Total defeat.
Overwhelming hordes of yokai. Rule yokai that could kill even a Swordmaster if you broke their rules.
The more we fought, the fewer of us remained alive. Worst of all, we could never eradicate those that grew stronger by feeding on fear.
In the end, we had no choice but to accept it. The glorious age of swords and magic had faded, replaced by a dark era where death could strike at any moment.
No living creature could ignore the terror carried by those two words.
All but one.
Somewhere in a quiet forest of the Kabala Empire.
Gurgle.
My stomach clock never lied. It chimed lunchtime even when I was wandering aimlessly.
I plopped down on a stump and unpacked my bag.
Today's menu was the lunchbox my mother had packed with loving care.
"Ah."
A sigh slipped out the moment I lifted the lid. It was because of the neatly arranged salad next to the golden-brown grilled meat side dish.
"I told you so many times—no meat."
It wasn't just that I was vegetarian. The problem was what the meat was.
Five distinct joints, plain as day.
It was a perfectly cooked human hand.
Salad it was, once again. I shoved the finger roast aside without hesitation and dug in.
My parents are yokai.
I figured it out at age five.
Normal kids graduate from baby food to rice. But at our house, people started showing up on the table instead of rice. Back then, not realizing they were people, I'd cried from pure instinct and refused to eat.
Looking back, it was the best decision of my life.
'Is our house kinda weird?'
That suspicion hardened into certainty during a visit to the elderly neighbor couple's house. There were no people on their dinner table. And more importantly, the neighbors didn't look like globs of black liquid in mirrors.
The clincher?
The next day, that couple turned up as the main dish on our table.
Ah, so our family are yokai.
The shock hit hard.
Harder than hearing how a mage who could summon meteors got devoured by a squirrel-sized yokai.
I barricaded myself in the corner, staring into a full-length mirror, pondering deeply. If my parents were yokai, was I yokai too?
'Hmm.'
The me in the mirror looked perfectly fine. No black liquid blob. Teeth straight even when I stretched my mouth as wide as it would go. I even flexed my shoulder blades and no tentacles sprouted from my back.
Conclusion.
I'm human.
A totally normal one.
"Thanks for the meal."
I polished off the salad container and repacked my bag.
I was fourteen years old. The prime age for clinging to my parents and acting spoiled. Instead, I ran away from home.
I lied to them, said I was just taking a stroll in the nearby woods. My first lie ever—and damn, it felt good.
'Gotta apologize properly if we ever meet again.'
My parents adored me something fierce. But scarfing down meals while staring at the faces of our acquaintances on the platter every day? It was brutal for the psyche.
'And besides, the neighborhood's empty of people now.'
Tommy next door. Aunt Anne upstairs. All of them passed through our fridge. I'm human—I want to live among humans.
So, off to the Imperial Capital I go.
Surely there I could hang out with people, yokai-free?
Heard they had this Great Yokai Council there. An officially recognized institution set up after yokai appeared—the safest spot from yokai assaults.
'They say the guy who was once the empire's strongest, the council chairman, sealed himself away so no rule yokai can spawn.'
There was no better place to chase my dreams.
Rustle.
The bushes stirred. I hummed a tune and kept walking. Weirdly, ever since leaving home, I'd been bumping into yokai left and right. Normal folks die on sight, but I'm the exception.
Was it because my parents are yokai? They all take a shine to me.
Last time, I ducked into a building plastered with "Do Not Enter" signs. Some kid inside had called out for help.
It turned out it was a rule yokai domain. Tommy had shuddered explaining the survival rules: insanely complicated stuff you had to follow to make it out alive.
1. Head back the way you came, and the exit will appear.
2. If you're hungry, grab anyone and tell them. They'll kindly share their rations.
The rules were polite. I flagged down a passing egg ghost and said I was starving—they grilled me up a premium steak. I skipped the meat, of course. Got a full escort to the exit, too.
On the way out, spotted the kid who'd called me—getting an earful from the egg ghost. Scolded for summoning help? Tough family.
Yokai and rule yokai? Super kind. To me, anyway.
"...Little kid."
That's when it came—a weird voice from overhead.
"Where you headed?"
I looked up. It was a woman towering at least three meters tall. Limbs jointed in grotesque, unnatural angles. Face shrouded in shadow under a wide-brimmed hat.
I'd seen it in books. A 8-cheok ghost. It lures kids to devour them whole, then hunts anyone who's glimpsed its face to the ends of the earth.
"To the nearest city. I'm on my way to the Imperial Capital."
I answered with a bright smile. It was a haul to the capital—safest to hop through cities along the way. The world's dangers weren't just yokai.
"Oh my."
The mouth under the hat hesitated, then split into a tearing grin.
"Imperial Capital? That's far. Where are you from?" "The mansion beyond those mountains yonder."
"...!"
Her expression froze solid.
"That's the Doppelganger Lord's turf... So you're the boy from the rumors. No wonder you smell so irresistibly sweet."
I cocked my head.
"There are rumors about me?"
"Oh yes. Word's spreading among the forest folk—how you're an amazing kid in all sorts of ways."
Suddenly it clicked why so many yokai had been warming up to me lately.
"Traveling alone must be lonely. Wanna go with big sis?"
"Sure!"
"Great. Mind if I hold your hand?"
The 8-cheok ghost sis extended a long arm. Knobby joints jutting out grotesquely, skin rough like flayed tree bark.
I grabbed it without a second thought. Huge and ice-cold, but Mom's hands were always like that so no biggie.
"Oh my."
Sis let out a short gasp.
"Smaller than I thought. But this feeling..."
She muttered to herself, sensing something.
As time passed, her hand changed. What felt like tree bark softened bit by bit while clasped in mine as we walked.
'She was going out of her way for me? So sweet.'
We strolled the forest path side by side. There was a huge height gap—I was basically dangling.
"Hey, kid."
"Yeah?"
"Mind doing sis one little favor?"
I wonder what. I looked up, and she gave a faint smile.
"Even you can tell my joints are all messed up, right?"
"Yeah. It looks super uncomfortable."
"So... could you loosen them up for me? You're a good kid—you can do that, yeah?"
No sweat. I nodded. She crouched with her back to me.
Rub-a-dub.
I kneaded her arms and shoulders with gusto. Those twisted joints made even me ache just looking—made me work harder.
"Mmm..."
The 8-cheok ghost sis let out a pleased moan.
And then—
Crack! Snap!
A sound like bones shattering echoed from her body.
"Haa... Just as I thought..."
She muttered, exhaling deeply as she twisted her neck side to side. A pop, and the grotesquely warped vertebrae straightened.
"Your hands... every bit as amazing as rumored."
"Do you have massage skills too?"
"Nah... just a figure of speech. Let's keep going."
That wasn't all. Her flopping elbow and knee joints clicked neatly into proper alignment.
'I bet she skips stretching.'
I stopped when my hands cramped. Sitting, she rotated her limbs every which way. She had a healthier glow right after— it looked like she kept them twisted on purpose.
"So what were you up to out here, sis?"
"...Hunting snacks."
"Snacks?"
"I spotted a boy wafting the most delicious scent—I planned to make him my treat."
Whoever the poor kid was, rotten luck. Books said 8-cheok ghosts never let marked prey slip away. He'd suffer for it.
Sis smacked her lips and glanced back.
"I bet you're starving."
"Hehe, you know it."
"Here—want some?"
I pulled out the lunchbox. The side dish I'd skipped earlier. Offered up the golden-brown grilled human hand.
"It's mom's homemade snack."
Sis's eyes went wide, then curved into happy crescents.
"Oh my gosh. What a good boy."
Crunch, munch.
She scarfed the fingers in seconds flat.
"Is it good?"
"Mmm. It's super fresh. No off flavors."
Cheered up, she hummed a little ditty. I asked,
"You still going after that boy?"
"Nah."
Sis suddenly ruffled my hair. Cold fingers wove through the strands.
"I lost my appetite. Chatting and walking with you is way more fun right now."
Phew. That kid dodged a bullet. So did I.
I had a companion for the road to the Imperial Capital— it was less boring already.
How long had we walked?
The sun had set. Forest nights are dangerous. Not because of wild beasts.
Nights are prime time for yokai and rule yokai.
"Hold up a sec. It's been feeling off since earlier... i've gotta handle some business."
The 8-cheok ghost sis stepped away. Alone, I foraged for dinner. Score—wild strawberries were everywhere nearby.
'These'll tide me over.'
Pluck, pluck.
Mid-pick, a fishy stench hit me. Blood.
"...?"
I looked up—8-cheok ghost sis was right there. But something was off. She had no fancy hat instead I saw wild hair with red eyes glinting through.
"Sis, back already?"
She gave no reply. Instead, thick drool and blood plopped from her mouth.
Po. Po. Po. Po. Po.
Just that sound, no words. That hungry?
Creak.
Her mouth yawned impossibly wide. Big enough to gulp my head in one go.
'Uh-oh.'
This might actually be bad.
My hand dove into my bag—that instant, white light slashed through the forest gloom.
BOOM!
"Kyaaaak!"
The charging sis pinballed away. From the dust cloud, another 8-cheok ghost emerged.
"You okay, little one?"
It was a familiar voice, the nice sis from before.
"Huh? There are two sisses now?"
"That's a fresh spawn. It can't even tell it's own kin apart from food yet."
Nice sis clucked her tongue, planting herself between me and it.
"Sis, you look... different."
"Thanks to you."
Her back to me, sis's skin gleamed, it wasn't the flaky mess from earlier. Her slumped posture straightened; nails sharp as well-kept blades.
Was that my doing?
'Was Mom's cooking some kinda superfood?'
Wondered if it'd work on me too—
The bad 8-cheok ghost staggered up. Joints twisting wildly, it charged way faster than before.
"Stay back!"
Nice sis blocked. The giants clashed with a forest-shaking roar.
Rumble!
Dust billowed, branches snapped. But things looked grim. Nice sis had the edge in raw power, but shielding me cramped her style. She was getting pushed back, inch by inch.
'Gotta help.'
She'd protected me. I couldn't just spectate. I rifled through my bag frantically.
A Dagger, poison, snare and bear trap, clattered to the dirt. It was all the emergency gear I'd packed. But now what?
'What's the surefire option?'
Something bumped my hand. A small pouch.
"Ah! Salt!"
The salt Mom and Dad had freaked out and yanked away when I tried cooking with it.
Books said yokai hate salt. If I toss it in its eyes, maybe it'll blind 'em?
"Sis! Get clear!"
I gripped the pouch, and hurled it with all my might.
"No! Kid! Regular salt won't even—!"
Her yell was cut short.
Shwaaaa.
White grains scattered through the air. But weirdly—it was not normal kitchen salt anymore. The instant it left my hand, it shimmered like a galaxy trail.
Like stardust.
Sizzle!
"KIIIIIEEEEEEK!"
Smoke poured from the bad ghost where salt hit. Flesh sloughed off like, its bones bared.
"Huh?"
That was a bit too effective.
'Is it past the expiration date or something...?'