AIC preview

The spectral wolf stopped at a giant stone, larger than even Aiko could ever hope to move. She glanced between the guide and the dead end, brow furrowed.

“This is the entrance to the land of the dead,” the wolf said. He shook out his coat and lifted a paw at the rock. “I cannot enter. You can. A guide will meet you on the other side.” Then the wolf sat down on his haunches, watching her with glittering yellow eyes.

“A result of your connection with Death, perhaps?” Sanbi mused. “You must have a rare ability for humans. Rare for spiritual beings as well, it seems.”

Aiko craned her neck to look over the stone, and flipped through the hand signs that were as natural to her as breathing. It seemed perfectly normal, chakra-wise, in that it radiated none. Its appearance seemed to belie its true purpose. The stone stood resolute, with a rope tied around it, decorated with the flecks of white paper that the mortal religious used as wards. The paper fluttered softly in the breeze. Aiko channeled chakra to her eyes, activating her Rinnegan.

It was only then, through her godly eyes, that she could see that the rock seemed less… rock. It seemed to waver in and out of being, real enough to touch if she wished. And if she wished to disregard its existence…

‘I can walk through it.’

Aiko swallowed and did just that, before she had a chance to think about it. It was disorienting. If anything, she had expected to walk through the bulk of the rock, pushing through the weightiness of gray stone. Instead, she passed through without resistance, as if through a doorway.

The hair stood up on the back of her neck. She felt different, she felt bereft, she felt- alone?

‘Sanb?’ Her heart thudded. It was so loud she wondered why no one turned to look at her.

There was no answer.

Her skin crawled.

‘Going through that stone peeled him out of me. He’s gone. Where is he? Will he be back when I go back? Or is he loose in the countryside of fire country now? Is he alone and afraid?’

There was nothing to do except to press forward. She looked around for the first time, truly registering where she was.

The underworld. She took a deep breath and a moment to adjust, blinking at the gloom. There was a huge, angry river rushing by. She also saw several spindly bridges, and a bare tree with clothes caught on its branches. Everywhere, there were people wailing.

A woman was sobbing at the mouth of the bridge, shedding her clothes in exchange for the white kimono of the deceased.

What appeared to be a wizened woman was crouched at the base of the tree, looking dispassionately at the recently deceased. But as Aiko’s eyes passed over her, it was clear that whatever she was, it wasn’t human.

A scream from the river caught her attention. A man was flailing in the river, splashing and shrieking, as a giant snake head reared up from the depths of the water. It came down on him in a crash, swallowing him whole, and causing a wave that pushed other swimmers and people in boats back to the near shore.

It reminded her unpleasantly of Orochimaru. Was he here, somewhere? She didn’t see him. Maybe he’d already crossed.

Someone shrieked, and Aiko could see a massive set of claws peek above the water.

The people fortunate enough to cross the bridge by foot were either running, or cowering.

Suddenly, Aiko vividly remembered the copies of paintings of hell that graced the halls of the wealthy and religious. She tried not to shudder.

‘This is the first place you go when you die.’

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she turned to face it. A blue-faced oni was frozen in a bow, waiting for her.

“You are my guide.” Aiko stated, letting her professionalism wash over the panic rising in her every muscle. The subservience was out of place, but she was used to people bowing to her. She knew how to react to it.

“Yes. Please, follow me.” His tone was obsequious.

She did follow. But where, and for what purpose?

The feeling in her gut only increased with every step away from the land of the living. Aiko could feel dread rising, and attempted to drown it out by staring resolutely ahead. They moved through the throngs of the dead, who scampered out of her way to cower by their mortal garments. When they reached the entrance to the bridge, the female demon said nothing. There was a moment where Aiko felt that everything could turn- but the demon merely stared at her and bared sharp teeth in what seemed to be a hollow imitation of a smile.

The rules of the dead did not seem to apply to Aiko. The unhappy and terrified souls purposefully gave her a wide berth, cowering by the edges of the bridge.

‘What makes me worse than the river monsters?’

None of it boded well at all.

‘Is it because I’m alive? What other reason would there be?’

A looming building on the other side of the bridge jogged Aiko’s memory. Lines of armed oni reinforced her supposition that this was the first court of judgment for the deceased.

She swallowed a bit of excess saliva.

‘I’m not really ready to be judged for my life- somehow, I don’t think I’m in line for heaven. I… I’ve definitely killed. That puts you in line for one of the lower hells.’

They reached the end of the long bridge, and to her surprise, they took a sharp right along the river, avoiding the first court of judgment entirely. A long path stretched out before them, and in the distance Aiko could see a massive gate.

As she neared it, her heart continued to sink. The kanji on the gate became clearer and redder. The gates were massive- as tall as a mountain, and as wide as the Fire Daimyo’s sprawling palace.

When they approached it, the gates groaned open with immense effort. Metal clanked, and the smells of hot iron and blood assaulted Aiko’s senses. She approached the threshold with her head held high.

They were about to enter Mugen Jigoku- the Hell of Unending Suffering. She couldn’t deny that she deserved it.

‘Not that I can really argue against that sentence- but come on, don’t send me to the lowest hell. That’s for people who kill gods and their parents. Itachi’ll wind up there. But I didn’t harm my parents and I definitely didn’t kill a god. I just…. Really pissed one off.’

They came to a grand hall where faint sounds of angry conversation from one of the courtrooms echoed out. The imp turned down a side path, avoiding what must be a reception room. Aiko did not glance back.

This didn't seem like a place to linger or to ask questions. They stepped up from the gardens and into the building, only taking time to shuck their shoes in the entryway.

The hallways were long, way too long to be inside the building that Aiko had seen from the outside. As they walked, the hall grew wider and taller, and the doors as well. By the time they stopped, the doors were at least twice Aiko's height.

The oni stopped at a door, bowing low and then backing away. Aiko hesitated for a moment, feeling uncertain. She steeled her nerves and went in. She came to the throne and she looked up, up, and up at someone who was not the Death God.

"I can't help but notice," Aiko said, "That you are a Goddess."

It took her a moment to put this together, based on her admittedly shaky religious education.

The married couple who had made the living world was separated when the wife died and went to the underworld. So-… that made this Goddess one of the two most important religious figures in the world.

Izanami no Mikoto inclined her head graciously. Her perfect hair fell in a billowing wave around her bare clavicles, slipping over her skeleton instead of getting caught inside the bones.

"As are you," she said, sounding vaguely amused. "Though what type is yet to be seen. Little one, I will be your patron. In exchange, you will revive human worship of me, so that I might once again take physical form in the living land."