Nemuno Sakata is a yamanba with the ability to create sanctuaries. In this case, “sanctuary” refers to a sacred religious place, similar to a shrine or temple. Those who seek to disturb the peace of sanctuaries are forbidden to enter. The spot on the Youkai Mountain where Nemuno lives is also a sanctuary, so anyone who visits is advised to be on their best behavior. As it happens, there’s another place Nemuno deems sacred. That’s right―the kitchen.

“Hmmm, I’m itching to cook somethin’… But what should I make?”
With her beloved chef’s knife in hand, Nemuno smirked down at her prey… Well, it wasn’t actually her prey―that’s just how she saw them. In reality, they were just regular ingredients, piled high and ready to be peeled, chopped, and cooked. If there’s a world out there where Nemuno runs a small restaurant, maybe she spends every day like this in the sanctity of her kitchen. But let’s not waste time discussing that possibility… Even though the ingredients weren’t actually Nemuno’s prey, they may well have felt that way as the razor-sharp edge of her knife glinted in the light. Actually, let’s not discuss that either…

Morning light shone into the tranquility of Nemuno’s kitchen. The sound of freshly picked vegetables being sliced and pillowy steam billowing upward from grains of perfectly cooked rice filled the air. Pots of bubbling stew babbled softly, and the aroma of grilled fish wafted all around. Nemuno’s sanctuary was a haven of delightful sounds and smells that not only wet the appetite, but also brought back memories. Was that the power of sanctuaries at play, or was this something different…?

It’s surely not uncommon for even something small to bring back memories for people. It could be the sound of chopping, the vibrant color of ingredients, the smell of meat grilling, and of course, the taste of a freshly made dish. Both Nemuno’s food and the sight of her working her way around the kitchen brought memories back for people―memories buried in some long-forgotten corner of the mind. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t as specific as that. Perhaps it was just a general sense of nostalgia for a time passed. Indeed, it’d be all too easy to see Nemuno lovingly cooking breakfast or dinner in her white chef’s apron and accidentally call her mom.

It’s said that all those who have food prepared for them by a yamanba meet a terrible fate. Assuming you met a yamanba, what would you do? Let her cook for you? Or refuse anything she made? If the yamawaro has kind eyes and is named Nemuno Sakata, then you’re likely fine to eat your fill. Welcome to the yamanba’s sanctuary. Welcome to Genoskyo.