The sand was fine, the wind was warm, and Hieda no Ajuu built sandcastles.
It was her fourth attempt of the day, and the most successful one yet. She patted more wet sand onto the structure, her tied-back sleeves still damp following their accidental immersion into the inland sea that covered most of Gensokyo these days. It was a childish activity, both according to her physical age — thirty as of the previous week — let alone according to all her lifespans chained together, but it helped. Working with her hands, allowing the mundane task to occupy her foremost attention, made her feel just a little more solid, a little less like she was buried beneath the surf and being ever so slowly torn apart by the currents.
She heard the flutter of wings first, followed by the more recognisable soft thud of landing. Footsteps came next, joining the beat of the lapping waves and distant cicada cries.
Danger, a primordial part of Ajuu's brain chimed in. The part of her which had time to think, which had walked and swam and flown across the half-submerged Gensokyo for three decades, finished smoothing out the edges of the castle before standing up. "Welcome back."
Ahead of her was a looming, moving shadow against a backdrop of mist. Losing her sight had been a bitter pill to swallow, even taking into account the years of advance warnings. At least she didn't need eyes to recognise the familiar gait, to feel the familiar presence come up to her, to hear the voice which had been so dear to her in a past life and which had become so all over again in this one as well.
"I found some great food today!" Kosuzu's shadow wavered, the edges of her silhouette collapsing. Carefully wrapped rice balls found their way into Ajuu's sand-encrusted hands. "With lotus and taro, just how you like them."
"Thank you." Ajuu sat down and placed the parcels on her lap before wiping and finally clapping her hands clean. It was an imperfect effort — just how many kernels of sand remained underneath her fingernails? — but it would do. What damage could eating anything less noxious than fast-acting poison do to her at this hour?
It took her a while to unwrap the food. She enjoyed the challenge, this ritual of puzzle, secure in the knowledge that should she falter, Kosuzu would slice the food free without a moment's hesitation, more careful and efficient with her talons than most beings were with their fingers.
In any case, Ajuu succeeded. The food was indeed good. She didn't sense flavours as she once had, but her memories filled the gaps in her perception. She swallowed before she spoke, paying homage to the human parts of her upbringing. "Would you like the other one?"
"No, thank you. I already ate." The waver of guilt in Kosuzu's voice was unnecessary, but Ajuu was grateful for the courtesy otherwise. There was a difference between knowing on an intellectual level what Kosuzu sometimes ate and hearing her feeding first-hand.
The wind grew stronger, a forerunner of not just autumn, but the distant winter. Ajuu didn't mind it and ate in peace until a soft exclamation escaped Kosuzu's lips. She looked up. "What's wrong?"
"Your castle." When Ajuu said nothing, Kosuzu continued. "The wave swept it away."
Ajuu continued chewing as she processed this. As she swallowed, she felt something previously unacknowledged within her resolve itself. "It's fine. It was an unlucky one, anyway."
Following the meal, she and Kosuzu walked around their island, sticking to the shoreline where they could. Ajuu no longer felt sunlight on her skin, but the warmth of the day had yet to recede. The insects of eventide droned on in the trees and bushes and in the air itself, beyond Ajuu's other senses but impossible to ignore. Her resolution continued to revolve within her, moving ahead notch by notch, waiting to be spoken aloud.
Ajuu halted. Time waited for no-one. "Can you see a place where we might sit down?"
"Sure. I'll take your hand."
Ajuu allowed herself to be lead aside and seated onto a sun-warmed rock by gentle talons which could pulverise bone. Kosuzu settled down right next to her. Whether it was due to necessity owing to the rock's size or Kosuzu's desire to be near her, Ajuu appreciated the intimacy.
"You have something weighing on your mind." It wasn't a question. Kosuzu had always been intelligent, and her youthful rashness had long since given way to insight brought on by both experience and forbidden knowledge.
Ajuu nodded. "It's about our future."
Kosuzu waited.
"I have roughly two weeks remaining. Perhaps three. Either way, I won't live to the next full moon."
Kosuzu squeezed her hand. It was the only acknowledgement necessary. After all, they had both known Ajuu's time was running out.
"I'll take care of the final arrangements tomorrow. After that, it's all settled and I can concentrate on living." Ajuu breathed in. It was time for the impossible part, made possible by her need to protect who she loved. "After I die, you shouldn't wait for my next reincarnation. In fact, I don't think you should seek me out at all."
The pressure on her hand was expected, as was the ripple of shock shuddering into her through the touch. What Ajuu hadn't expected was how quiet and flat Kosuzu's voice was when she next spoke. "Why?"
Ajuu took a deep breath for composure's sake, then another. A third one would have been cruelty, and so she made herself. "Because when I return, I will once again grow to be a different person. Even assuming we will survive to meet again, there is no guarantee things will be as they are now."
"I understand that. But you'll remember me. There's a lot more about me in the Chronicle now than there was before, and you remembered me just fine last time."
"You're right. I will remember you. But knowledge can only guide our emotions instead of controlling them." Ajuu shifted. There was an uncomfortable bump in the rock close to her tailbone, and she leaned into Kosuzu to escape it. The arm that settled around her was blessedly warm. "It seems almost impossible right now, but it could still happen. Even if I do believe I will fall in love with you over and over again, it's still possible for my heart to go elsewhere. It's equally possible you won't love or even like the person I will become."
"That's never going to happen."
"I don't want to trap you in your memories."
The arm around her stiffened. After a long pause, Kosuzu removed it and helped Ajuu back to her feet.
They kept walking. Ajuu went along, her heart heavier than it had been before. Hadn't she spoken to clear the air? To unshackle Kosuzu before she chained herself to Ajuu for another long wait, chained herself to stone that might — could — would — crumble beneath her feet?
"You don't have to keep treating me like a child." Kosuzu paused just for a moment before she kept speaking, so quiet Ajuu had to strain to catch her words. "I haven't been one in a long while."
"I understand that." Even as she said that, Ajuu wondered if she truly did understand. She knew, of course, of what Kosuzu had done to become what she was now, and she knew too it was unlikely to be pure luck which had allowed Ajuu to live in the wilderness on and off for her entire life without any harm befalling her. Even so, she struggled to reconcile these ideas with her image of Kosuzu; Kosuzu, who had lost none of her optimism or curiosity upon becoming a youkai; Kosuzu, who treated her with unswerving kindness; Kosuzu, whom she could even now sense smiling.
"But maybe you're right. Maybe I'm still a little naive. Because even though I know nothing lasts forever and that I might not even live to see your next reincarnation," Kosuzu halted and guided Ajuu around an obstacle on the path, "even though I know all that, I want to hold out hope that we'll meet again. Even if things are completely different next time."
They had circled around and returned to the beach. Kosuzu let go of Ajuu, and so Ajuu made her own way to the water, walking across the fine sand that yielded underneath even the lightest foothold. She faced the bay, savouring the cool richness of the wind rushing against her skin.
She grew serious as she heard Kosuzu approach. "I've insulted you."
"You didn't, really." Kosuzu's words grew wistful. "The truth is, when I first decided to wait for you I did think of it like it was a fairy tale. That one day you'd walk out of the ocean just like you were in my final memories of you. I knew it was impossible, of course, but I still kept dreaming about that moment."
Ajuu couldn't help but sigh. "I understand the sentiment."
"That was how it began. But... while I waited, I think I grew up. For a second time, I mean. I realised that my dream was just a dream and that I didn't actually have any idea what was going to happen when you were reborn. The only thing I was sure about was that it would be different from what I thought. I didn't even know if you would recognise me as a youkai."
It struck Ajuu as very odd that Kosuzu had never mentioned any of this before. It sounded like the truth, all the same. "But you still waited."
"Of course! I just began to think about it differently. That at most I'd hope to be your friend. Someone who could help you with your work and help keep you safe. And if you wanted nothing to do with me... I would have to accept that I might end up being in pain."
Ajuu closed her eyes from the wavering shadows and looked instead at her memories, rendered in perfect vivid colours. The guileless, hopeful smile of the girl who had become a youkai to be able to meet Ajuu. The youkai who had watched over Ajuu while still giving her space, who had allowed her to see so much of Gensokyo normally inaccessible to humans. The woman who had been so startled when Ajuu, now a woman herself, had cupped her face with her hands and kissed her.
"I already knew," she finally said, stunned by the revelation. "I couldn't have not known. Then how..."
She didn't need to see Kosuzu to hear the smile in her voice. "For someone with such a perfect memory, you can be pretty forgetful."
"Oh, hush." But Ajuu couldn't help but smile as she realised just who had been trapped in her memories. Ah, vanity.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You're right."
The wind blowing from the bay redoubled its efforts. Ajuu closed her eyes to keep her fringe from flying into them. "I understand now. I won't tell you what to do. If you wish to wait, then you'll wait."
"And whatever happens, happens." Kosuzu's taloned hand slipped into Ajuu's, smooth as feathers. "But right now, what I want more than anything else in the world is to spend as much time with Hieda no Ajuu as possible."
There were a few advantages to losing one's eyesight. The enhancement to Ajuu's sense of touch made the experience of embracing Kosuzu and feeling her wings enfold around her all the more vibrant.
They remained on the beach long after night fell. There was still time to build another sandcastle together.