Prologue: Ashita at the Edge
The sun sets pink through fog in Shitano District. Ashita Hounoji leans on the cracked shrine wall, hands shaking from dreams that stuck to her all day. The eldest priest’s voice still rings in her ears: “The festival finds those who wear their pain on their skin.” Her best friend Ren trailed behind, still in her medical mask.
“Ashita, did they mean you? You still see your scars?” Ren’s words echo as Ashita’s marks—raised, shifted skin—throb. Suddenly, flyers twist from the wind saying: The Festival of New Flesh Begins Tonight.
Act One: Transformations Begin
Netsuke Lane fills with masked performers. Some wear elaborate paper skin, some only thin veils over swollen shapes. Happy tunes cover nervous voices among the crowd. Are you drawn to spectacles like these, or would you run the other way?
Ashita is still trying to blend in when Kaede, a square-jawed boy with tiny moving mouths crawling along one arm, rushes past. “They picked me! The four guides chose…” he beams—until the skin near his sleeve splits, one new mouth yowls. People reel back; the celebration churns up shock, not wonder.
Ren grabs Ashita’s shoulder. “We need to watch this from a distance,” she says.
Act Two: The Ritual Emerges
Night deepens; shriek-lights flash along temple steps. Ritual dancers shed layers, their real skin bubbling, shifting. Fragrance fills each breath with something metallic. Priests lure in four contestants: Kaede, Sen-sensei (the aging teacher), Miya (the oracle’s daughter), and at the last moment—Ashita—chosen for the sharp patterns knotting her skin. Ashita hates spotlights, but her insides feel drawn.
The old priest’s voice swells, “Expose what you fear. Become more than it!”
Act Three: Contest Done in Fleshmaking
The contest has odd tasks. “Build a new form from what you want most,” a masked woman declares to the four. Each stands in one quadrant of a bizarre arena. Kaede’s mouths bite his arms as he tries to shape them, yelping in pain every time he messes up. Miya weeps as shapes poke through thin skin. Sen-sensei peels memory coins from his chest—they’re embedded in flesh, and he hands them out to judge.
Ashita’s body feels fire-hot. Scar lines crawl on her arms, rise, knot, unravel. “If I don’t do this, does it mean I’m still broken?” she wonders. Around her, meat and skin swirl like slow wind. The pain throbs colder with each choice, but her form changes—her skin heals only as the old pain’s returned, bright and vivid between her fingers. Is wanting to change yourself brave, or a kind of lie you live?
Below the contest, Ren bribes a groundskeeper and climbs backstage. She sees but can’t reach Ashita. “One slip, Ash!” she cries.
Act Four: Costs of Transformation
Mouths and limbs twitch on Kaede, who suddenly can’t speak. Miya’s new limbs form into blank faces; she sobs for her father. Sen-sensei sits in the gloom, nails on polished coins where his heart should beat, looking wiser and older than ever. Ashita stands atop thick grass, her skin a map of looping trails, alive. 
Judges circle, silent, their forms inhuman. The old priest whispers, “New flesh is gift and curse—what pain do you crave to keep?”
Ashita kneels. “I want the scars…but not their memory.” Her body bursts—no blood, just bad air and clean white channels, lines that curl. She falls, gasping, as Ren finally gets through and cradles her. “Ash, come back!”
Act Five: Cliffhanger – The Veil Opens
Ashita’s back arches; her old scars shrivel, fade, and something new pushes out. But is it healing, or hollow? A crowd gathers, unsure if she’s alive or more statue now. Ren pleads, tears streaking her mask off for good.
The priest is gone. New, bright children step in—a ritual for the next year begins in silence between breaths.
Is Ashita healed, lost, or something else? Would you cross the border of your own skin for a second chance?
To be continued.
