AHN – Chapter 16 Africans Saved by Young Girls

Two days had passed.

Night.

Outside the cave-like cell where Demba and the others were held, two young guards stood watch. 

Beside the overgrown vines, the two men with long sticks faced each other.

Despite approaching early summer, the night air was still chilly, a strong breeze blowing. 

Above, the moon shone bright, its light casting the torn clouds into a deep purple sky, drifting by one after another.

The wind rustled through the forest, and from the mountains, far off, came the echoing howls of Ezomos.

“This wind’s unpleasant. It’s unusually cold for this time of year,” remarked a stocky man clad in ash-colored bark clothing, Atushi.

“Don’t complain, Tsufuri. The evil god Wen Kamui might hear you. Do you want to get eaten? —Damn it, why did it have to be us stuck with this duty?” 

“It can’t be helped if it’s what Village Chief Kalheka ordered. Pasekuru, do you really believe in that evil god Wen Kamui?” 

Tsufuri, the man addressed as Tsufuri, smirked.

Pasekuru looked discontented.

“Don’t you know? They ‘appear’ in these mountains. Didn’t you hear what the elder Ekashi said? —Look at this forest, doesn’t it seem suspicious tonight?”

Tsufuri, prompted by Pasekuru, scanned the surrounding forest with a nervous look on his face.

The trees rustled.

Both men flinched slightly.

“That… it’s just my imagination. It’s just my imagination,” Tsufuri quickly dismissed, but the rustling continued.

“Damn, isn’t it time for the shift change yet?”

Pasekuru cursed, and the sound of shaking leaves followed.

“W-what… Who’s there?!”

He couldn’t hide the trembling in his voice.

Tsufuri readied his stick.

The forest fell silent.

“Hey, it… it’s not a bear, right? I left my arrows behind,” Pasekuru’s eyes darted left and right.

“Sh… shut up. It might be a wild dog… The sound stopped.”

Both cautiously turned their fearful gaze toward the thickets, staring intently into the darkness.

Rustle, rustle!

The trees shook violently, and a high-pitched laugh echoed.

“Uwaaaaa! It’s Wen Kamui!”

Tsufuri threw his stick and bolted like a frightened rabbit.

“W-wait, wait for me! Don’t leave me behind!” 

Pasekuru, swinging both arms, chased after him desperately.

Crashing through the brush, they ran with their legs trembling.

Their screams gradually faded into the distance, and soon, the forest fell silent again.

Crackle, crackle, as the bushes rustled, two shadows emerged.

One of the shadows chuckled softly, shoulders shaking.

“Did you see that? That was Tsufuri, Emariya. He always acts so tough, but when push comes to shove, this is what he’s like. It’s hilariously pathetic,” the girl with the black cloth over her head said with a laugh.

“Sis, wasn’t that a bit much? If we get caught later, they’ll gossip about us in the village,” the other girl, called Emariya, also covering her head with black cloth, remarked.

“I don’t care anymore. We’re always looked at with suspicion anyway. It won’t make much difference,” her sister Irika said, her well-shaped lips pursing.

“Now, let’s hurry.”

Carefully checking the ground, they approached the cave-like cell.

“Here it is. It looks complicated, but if you untie this knot, it should come apart easily,” Irika explained, her hands illuminated by the moonlight.

Pulling on the vine protruding from the knot, Irika effortlessly undid it, revealing two vertical bars.

“Ah, there we go.”

Grasping the lower part of the stick, she pulled it upwards.

It was wedged into a crevice in the rock, so she knew there was some play.

Pulling it towards her, the stick came loose, creating enough space for a person to slip through.

She quickly slipped her head inside.

“Heyyy. Are you two there? —Are you?”

Kanga, who had been lying down, abruptly sat up.

“Someone’s calling. Should we go?”

Demba, still seated, glanced towards the entrance.

“As long as someone opens it from the outside, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

The two bent down and approached the entrance.

Under the moonlight, they could see two figures.

They slipped out through the opening.

Looking up, the moon shimmered brightly in the sky.

It had been a long time since they were outside.

Kanga stretched and yawned.

“Ah, it was cramped.”

“My shoulders are stiff,” Demba muttered, rubbing his neck as he looked down.

Standing in front of them were two girls, both appearing to be in their late teens.

When they stood up, one of the girls looked up at Demba and exclaimed softly, “You’re so tall… And really dark.”

She poked Demba’s bare arm with her white fingertips.

Impressed by her fearless demeanor, Demba was slightly taken aback.

The two sailors, dressed only in loincloths like they had been on the plains, felt more at ease almost naked.

When the girl removed the black cloth covering her head, Demba saw her shimmering silver hair reflecting the moonlight.

Since coming to this country, Demba had never seen anyone with hair color other than that of the Dutch. He was a bit surprised, though his expression remained unchanged.

The girl noticed Demba looking at her hair and smiled faintly.

“Oh, this hair color. Our father isn’t from this country — he’s Russian. You two aren’t ordinary Japanese Shisamu either. Where originally are you from?”

“Africa. Even if I say it, you probably wouldn’t know. It’s a country far, far to the west,” Demba spoke for the first time.

“Oh, you can speak! I’m relieved. I was worried you wouldn’t understand,” she said, her eyes widening slightly. Her pupils also seemed to shine silver.

“Africa, huh. I don’t know about it, but I’m curious. Will you tell me?”

Demba wasn’t sure how to respond, so he ambiguously replied, “Ah, yeah.”

He noticed a long stick, about six feet long, lying nearby that Tsufuri and the others had thrown away.

He picked it up and twirled it around. It seemed like a decent find.

Suddenly, he realized he hadn’t even thanked them yet.

“Thank you for helping us. I’m Demba. This is Kanga,” Demba said, and Kanga nodded slightly.

“Pleased to meet you, miss.”

The girl smiled softly.

It was an unusually dazzling smile.

“Is that your Shisamu name? I’d like to know your original name. By the way, I’m Irika. My Russian name is Ilika Sverdlova. This is my younger sister here, Emariya. Properly, it’s Emariya.”

Demba and Kanga glanced at each other.

“I’m Demba. —Demba Gale Nazari.”

“I’m Kanga. Just as it is. Kanga Dan Bayat.”

“Demba and Kanga, got it. There’s no point in staying here forever, right? —For now, why don’t you come to our home?”

Again, the two looked at each other.

There was no particular reason to refuse.

The sisters walked ahead on the nighttime road.