Echoes of the Uchiha

The Story of a Rainy Night

During this journey, all food and lodging expenses were covered by the convoy—everything had been paid in advance. At the coachman's reminder, Uchiha Lihuo, along with a middle-aged man and his young daughter, stepped down from the carriage and gathered in the designated camping area.

Though the heavy rain had stopped, the sky was still blanketed in dark clouds. No moonlight or starlight could be seen.

A campfire crackled in the open space. The firewood, prepped in advance, was dry and emitted no thick smoke. A crock filled with clean water hung above the flames, with a pot of hot soup simmering inside.

Their dinner, provided by the convoy, consisted of two warm, seaweed-wrapped rice balls. Still soft and fresh, they had a comforting aroma that suggested a satisfying taste.

"Guests, I'll bring you a bowl of fish soup shortly. It'll help warm you up," the coachman said politely before heading off to assist elsewhere. With rain and mud everywhere, it was important to get the camp set up quickly—any delay and customers would start complaining.

This stretch of road between the station and town was traveled by many caravans. Reputation meant everything.

The vegetable broth in the crock gurgled gently. The team members in charge of food ladled the soup and distributed it to everyone.

Uchiha Lihuo and the father-daughter pair also received their share. Just holding the warm bowls brought comfort to their chilled fingers.

The soup was a simple mix of fish and cabbage. With the land of Japan surrounded by sea, fish was a readily available meat. Though cabbage was common and cheap, when boiled in broth with fish, it gave off a subtle sweetness.

After sipping the soup, warmth spread through their bodies, easing the cold that lingered from the rain.

Next to Lihuo, the middle-aged man clumsily fed his daughter before drinking his portion. He waited patiently for her to finish.

"Daddy, can I hear the story of the Kappa?" the little girl asked. Her belly full and eyes drooping with sleep, she clutched her father's sleeve.

The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly, then turned to Uchiha Lihuo with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about this."

He began the story in a soft, almost theatrical voice.

---

The Legend of the Kappa

"A long, long time ago," the father began, "there was a Kappa chief named Jiuqianbō. He led his clan all the way from distant lands to settle in Kyūshū, near the Unzen Hot Springs by the Kumagawa River."

"The Kappa were strange creatures—part man, part beast. They had monkey-like limbs, turtle shells on their backs, flipper-like hands, and a water-filled dish on top of their heads. As long as that dish held water, they were strong and agile."

"At first, the Kappa kept to themselves. But as their numbers grew, Chief Jiuqianbō became greedy. He started attacking nearby villages and taking what he pleased."

"The villagers lived in fear but dared not speak out."

"When word of the Kappa's attacks reached the daimyō of Kumamoto Castle, he was furious. He dispatched samurai to slay the chief—but none could pierce Jiuqianbō's hide, and many warriors fell to his monstrous strength."

"Eventually, the daimyo consulted wise men and discovered the Kappa's weakness: they feared apes."

"With this knowledge, the daimyo devised a plan. He tricked Jiuqianbō into bowing—when he did, the water in the dish spilled out. Powerless, the chief was forced to surrender and promised to never harm humans again."

"But centuries passed. A new generation of Kappa forgot the oath. They began lurking by rivers once more, dragging careless travelers into the depths."

"Then came a wandering swordsman named Sabei. One day, he approached a river and saw a golden ring floating—really, a trap laid by a Kappa. Sabei swung his blade and cut off the Kappa's hand, forcing it to beg for mercy. The Kappa again swore never to harm humans and vanished into the water."

"And so, children," the father added with a wink, "if you break promises or wander too far from home, the Kappa might be watching."

---

"Daddy, that's scary," the little girl whispered, clutching his sleeve tighter. Her name was Qiandaozi, and her small body trembled slightly.

The man chuckled gently and hugged her. "Don't worry, Qiandaozi. You're a good girl. You always keep your promises."

"But..." Her voice cracked with guilt. "Daddy told me not to wander off today... but I still snuck away to play."

The man gently patted her head. "It's alright. Daddy's here. I'll always protect you."

He kissed her forehead. "Besides, Kappa are just old stories. I've never seen one in real life."

Comforted by her father's warmth, Qiandaozi finally drifted into sleep.

---

It was late now. Most of the convoy was asleep. Only a few guards remained awake, stationed beneath the trees with spears and torches, keeping watch beside the fire.

The river nearby wasn't entirely safe. Flash floods were a constant threat. If the waters rose, the guards would raise the alarm to save everyone in time.

As for wild animals—most had already been hunted to extinction in the more populated regions of Japan. Bullets and traps left little space for beasts to thrive.

"Hey, Goro... how long till we switch shifts?" one of the night watchmen grumbled, stretching as he leaned against a tree. His sword was sheathed beside him.

Vigil duty was exhausting—physically and mentally. The forest loomed like a dark wall, and the clouded sky offered no stars to break the gloom.

That's why they rotated watch shifts. One guard watched the first half of the night, the other the second. Even then, it was easy to doze off.

"Goro, you sleep like a rock," the man muttered, chuckling quietly.

But then his smile vanished.

The silence around him felt wrong. Too still. Other than the crackling of the fire and the soft drip of rain, there were no sounds. No insects, no rustling leaves—and more disturbingly, no snoring.

Goro, his portly partner, was known for snoring loud enough to wake the dead. The others had even complained before, though eventually they got used to it.

Now, the silence was deafening.

"Goro?" the man called out, frowning. He picked up a torch and walked toward the back of the tree where Goro had laid down.

But Goro was gone.

Panic prickled his skin.

"Maybe he just got up to relieve himself," the guard whispered, trying to steady his nerves. Still, he gripped the torch tighter and began searching around the area.

Then he saw it.

A shadow—slowly moving by the riverbank.

He raised the torch.

Two glowing scarlet eyes stared back at him from the dark.

The thing leapt.

"AHHHHHHHH!" the guard screamed, dropping the torch in terror.

His cry split the rainy night like a thunderclap