Mokou could scarcely believe Kaguya had actually shown up. But there she was. Even from her high vantage point, Mokou could never have mistaken her for anyone else.
She remained perched in the tree, mimicking a nocturnal bird of prey as Kaguya walked closer the heart of the clearing, gliding on the sea of dead leaves making nary a sound. Any moment now, she would notice the aberrant shadow blotting out the light of the rising moon, look up, and see her doom.
Which was why Mokou didn't wait any longer. She leapt down with her flaming fists first.
Startled by the sound, Kaguya whirled her head upwards. Too late.
They collided with a satisfying crunch and a whoosh of fire, then went down together. Mokou scraped her knee as it hit the ground, her brittle bones groaning, but she ignored it and focused on the struggle, snarling.
And Kaguya laughed.
"Long time no—" She gasped as Mokou buried her elbow in her solar plexus.
"If it's been so long, why—?" Mokou just barely evaded a sucker punch and leaned more weight in. "Why bother harassing me? What's with the letters? And the poisoned arrows they were attached to?"
Although the corner's of Kaguya's eyes crinkled with pain, she kept smiling. "Could it be that I missed you?"
"And I missed doing this."
Mokou still carried a few spell cards out of habit, but the thought of pulling out one of those relics came and went in a blink. Instead, she punched Kaguya squarely in the face. While Kaguya was still reeling, she grabbed her upper arm and pinned it to the ground.
Kaguya was a cunning opponent and far stronger than she looked, but the initial impact had addled her senses and her kicks did little more than graze Mokou as she locked down the rest of her limbs. Even so, she kept struggling. Mokou had to use the entirety of her weight to keep her even relatively still.
She sought out Kaguya's eyes and found them hazy. "Die."
Kaguya breathed in, dispersing the fog from her gaze. "Even if you say that—" She made a furtive attempt to shift away. Mokou pushed down harder. "As long as you are lying on top of me like this, it seems like you want something other than my death."
Mokou bristled. "Shut up."
"How many more centuries are you going to live in denial? Do you think I can't read that look you're giving me?" Kaguya smiled, letting the tension in her uncoil as she did so. Her long hair had fallen askew all around her, framing her face in a shroud of midnight.
"I said shut up."
Kaguya only laughed, softly but derisively.
Mokou lunged forward. She bumped her forehead against Kaguya's, then clacked their teeth together. Then, finally, she shut Kaguya up.
It was after some time that Mokou levered herself back up.
"There," she gasped, aching for breath. "Now you can keep—"
She made it no further before Kaguya leaned up and locked their lips back together.
Mokou's eyes widened. She became a frozen flame, suspended in heated motion.
Then, just as quickly, she thawed. She allowed her arms to fold and fell back down onto Kaguya.
Mokou held her hands towards the flames. The fire was unnecessary with the night as balmy as it was and not entirely safe in the light of the recent drought, but they were far from any habitation and the sound of crackling wood soothed her.
She accidentally nudged Kaguya with her elbow as she leaned back, but received only a raised eyebrow in response. While Mokou had busied herself with the fire, Kaguya had pulled out a long emerald-coloured pipe and was quietly breathing in the smoke.
"That's new. What is it?"
Kaguya blew out a cloud of amethyst smoke, dispersing as soon as it emerged. "Eirin's recipe. It soothes the nerves." She took out a cloth bag with a stitching of a Chinese peony embellished onto it and held it out to Mokou.
Mokou took a pinch of the mixture. A single sniff was enough to make her eyes water. Even so, she scattered the powder onto the fire. The flames roared up in a sudden flush of violet sparks.
She breathed in the smoke and began choking from the sudden firestorm in her lungs.
"That's not how you use it."
"Shut up." But she coughed the words out without rancour. An acquired taste, probably. Give it five hundred years or so.
She finally drew a successful breath and watched the diminishing flames as they returned to their usual orange and white, slowly reducing themselves into embers. "What do we do now?"
Kaguya emptied her pipe by knocking it gently against her palm and put it away. "Go back indoors?"
"You know what I meant. About us."
Two thousand years ago, Kaguya would have laughed in her face. A thousand years ago, she would have left without another word and with an ineffable smile on her face. Now, however, she stayed still and gave the matter its due consideration.
"What we should do," she eventually said, "is pace ourselves. I'm sure we haven't run out of spontaneous displays of hatred yet."
"You mean like this?" Mokou grabbed a handful of embers from the fire and tossed them at Kaguya's face.
The ensuing tussle was brief and punctuated by laughter amidst the flurry of dirt and ancient leaves. It wasn't long until they fell back onto the forest floor, essentially unharmed.
"I see your point," said Mokou, catching her breath. "This still has its perks."
"Precisely. We have had a good run hating each other for the past... how long?"
"Three thousand years. Give or take."
"Three thousand years, give or take. Do we really want to ruin all that because of a single night?"
"You're right." Mokou sat up and snapped her fingers. The fire rekindled and rose to reach for the sky. "So, want to give this another go in a hundred years or so?"
And when Kaguya laughed and reached to brush the dead leaves from Mokou's hair, it was with sincere mirth.