I was fourteen when my most foundational summer memories formed. Standing at the edge of a smoldering pile of rubble that had once been both my family home and an ancient family shrine, I had cried my tears dry hours before. At the time no one had come for me, my local family had only seen me as an obligation, and I had slipped away to look at the embers of my young life.
I recalled the story of a young maiden named Kiyohime whom had fallen in love with a passing monk, Anchin, that stayed at her parents house on his journey. He had appeared to fend off the romantic aspirations of the obsessive young girl, but had promised to marry her when he returned. However, he had avoided the village entirely on his way back to the monastery.
Anchin had underestimated her fervor as Kiyohime gave chase. Her jealousy allowed her to turn into a huge fire breathing serpent and cross the river when Anchin took the only boat. Arriving at the Temple Monastery, he bade the monks to hide him from the monster girl. They laughed and didn't take him seriously, but hid him in the old bell
When Kiyohime arrived, fully in her serpent body, she was able to find Anchin was beneath the bell. So, she coiled herself around the bell and burned them both to death.
