Although it was the beginning of the witching hour, with torrents of rain soaking through everything that hadn't already been soaked through over the past eighteen hours, Ayaka Hakurei had to bodily restrain herself from standing up, running out of the shrine, and fleeing into the wilderness without ever looking back.
She let go of the edge of the table as the impulse passed, and glared in dismay at the red wedge where the wood had bit into the flesh of her palm. She had always thought herself more restrained than this. A dutiful daughter perfectly capable of upholding the clan traditions without feeling any grudge towards the main family.
That had been before she had become the main family.
She furled the scroll she had been studying and reached for another one, doing her best to ignore the rain pounding on the roof, relentless as a waterfall. She likely couldn't have slept anyway, but the storm guaranteed it: each gust of blustering, howling wind made the bones of the building creak so severely Ayaka knew it was only a matter of time before the walls collapsed in on her. A fitting end to her miserable fortnight at the Hakurei shrine.
Why had her aunt died? By all accounts, she had actually relished the role of the Hakurei shrine maiden, had genuinely enjoyed dealing with all the insanity surrounding this strange village — Gensokyo, Ayaka was almost positive it was called, but bafflingly, the locals had trouble keeping the name straight — and had done well keeping its stupendously large youkai population in check. But then she had gone and gotten herself murdered without begetting an heir first, and so they had come looking for a member of a branch family, preferably someone with tremendous spiritual powers. Which Ayaka knew she didn't have, no matter what her family insisted.
But it was too late now.
Ayaka turned to glare daggers at the only decoration in the room, a wall hanging depicting her aunt. She had hung it up so she could pretend she had something resembling company. Now that company irritated her. Thank you so very much.
In spite of the tapering candlelight, her aunt's inky eyes remained wholly impassive.
Ayaka sighed and returned her attention to the scroll. For the fifth night in a row, she was studying the records of the clan, with every intention to keep going back in time till she could find something in the genealogy to prove she wasn't actually related to the ancient Hakurei clan. She knew it wouldn't make a lick of difference as far as being freed from her post went, but at least she would know she wasn't betraying all of her ancestors if she slipped away one day and fled Gensokyo like the hellhole that it was.
The rain pounded on the roof and walls once more, more urgent than ever. Ayaka stuck her fingers in her ears and crouched over the scroll.
Much like the previous night's reading, this one had been written by her great-grandmother in a small, sloppy style that was hard to read even in daylight. All the same, it was a great improvement over her grandmother's chronicles, which had been blander than the paper it was written on. Great-grandmother Hakurei, on the other hand, told long, fascinating tales of troublesome youkai she had vanquished or driven away. Such as the one Ayaka was reading right now, about an evil ghost so ancient and stubborn she had been forced to travel to the provincial capital to seek aid in exorcising it, and even then...
The pounding rain had grown so violent it no longer sounded like rain at all. It was more like...
Ayaka glanced to her right. Behind the thin, water-splattered door stood a dark silhouette.
She froze at once, then turned towards the most remote corner of the room. The Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb, the priceless clan treasure which was now to be her weapon of choice, rose two inches from the tatami. The only kind of aid anyone would come seek from her at this hour and in this weather was the absolutely necessary kind. In other words, last-ditch violence.
Her heart beat in her throat as she crept across the room and slid the door open, only to halt completely as soon as she saw her visitor.
The girl outside was around her age and sopping wet, with the dark cowl she wore plastered to her hair. Raindrops clung to her eyelashes and streamed down her face as she blinked at Ayaka, clearly in surprise. But why?
Ayaka quickly dismissed the question. There was something about the girl, a radiance in her eyes and a softness in her features that shone even in her drenched state, coupled with a peculiar air she couldn't quite put her finger on, but which made her seem as though she had stepped onto Ayaka's porch straight from ancient times. Whatever it was, Ayaka couldn't tear her eyes from her.
The girl gave her a small, damp smile. "I hope I didn't wake you up. I saw a light through the door so I thought—"
Till then, Ayaka had been half convinced her earlier prediction had come true, and that the girl was a death delusion come to greet her after the roof of the shrine had smothered her. The words shook her from her reverie. "I am so sorry! Please, come in! You must be freezing."
"Thanks." The girl didn't budge even as Ayaka made room for her, but her smile widened. "I'm Ichirin Kumoi. And this," she gestured at something to her right with a hand holding a large metallic ring, "is Unzan."
Slowly, very slowly, Ayaka sidled onto the porch to peer at whoever Ichirin was pointing at.
A massive, bearded face, comprised exclusively of the very pinkest sunset-lit clouds, glared back at Ayaka with an expression somewhere between hesitancy and reproach.
It was still the witching hour when Ayaka realised the tea in her cup was growing cold.
Some minor deity of hospitality had taken over her body and guided her to make the tea and fetch the extra cushion, something she was immensely grateful for. The lukewarm cup in her hands was an anchor to reality, something she clung to each time she glanced at the youkai sitting opposite her.
Youkai. A youkai inside the shrine, drinking tea. An impossibility. An anathema.
But there she was, nursing a cup and wearing the spare robes Ayaka had offered to her without thinking. The youkai's own clothes, Buddhist garb in blue and white, hung by the door dripping water onto the mat. The other youkai — Unzan, Ayaka dimly recalled — remained outside. Ayaka felt his stare through the walls, practically burning holes in the woodwork.
It was only when she tried to ignore the sensation that Ayaka realised the youkai — Ichirin, she reminded herself, Ichirin — had stopped talking. "I am sorry. What was her name, again?"
"Byakuren Hijiri." If Ichirin minded Ayaka's absent-mindedness, she didn't show it. Her hair, now that it had dried a bit, had an almost turquoise hue. Just like the forest spring back at home. "She was a friend of humans and youkai alike."
Ayaka nodded. Some of Ichirin's tale, which she had only listened to with half an ear in spite of her best intentions, began to drift back in. "And after she was sealed... the rest of you dispersed?"
Ichirin shook her head. "The others are currently underground. Except for Nazrin. I'm not sure where she is."
Underground? Yes, Ayaka had heard of youkai being sealed beneath the earth. Frankly, there were more than enough youkai overground in Gensokyo for her to ignore any which dwelt underneath her feet.
"Once Lady Byakuren was gone, Lady Shou naturally became our boss," Ichirin continued, evidently unaware of slipping into coarser diction. "The thing is, she has other responsibilities, and they take so much of her time that I think she's almost forgotten about Lady Byakuren. That's why we came here. I know we can only do so much for Lady Byakuren by ourselves, but even finding out where in Makai she is would help."
"I see." Ayaka set her cup down. "Look... Miss Kumoi..."
"Just Ichirin is fine."
Ayaka gave her a nod that felt like a hiccup, startled by the smile. She had to get a hold of herself and fast. She couldn't forget what Ichirin was. "I am sorry for your loss, of course, but I do not understand how I figure into your plans."
"I was getting to that." Looking into her cup and finding it thoroughly drained, Ichirin set it next to Ayaka's and looked her in the eye. Bright, deep eyes, like the ocean on an overcast day. "That favour we need."
Ayaka waited, unwilling to blink.
"Can you make a hole in the border between this land and Makai?"
Ayaka still didn't blink. This time, she wasn't sure she could.
"All we need is a way to enter Makai," Ichirin continued, heedless of the change in atmosphere. "I know we won't be able to restore her right now, but if we can just find her and maybe talk to her, that would already make all the difference in the world."
Ayaka was sure it would. Ichirin had painted her a picture of this Byakuren Hijiri in the most flattering colours. Too flattering. It left out all the shadows and dark shades that were bound to exist in a real person, human or youkai.
Worse still, that wasn't even the biggest problem. "I am sorry, ...Ichirin, but I shall have to be honest with you. I know of no such barrier."
Ichirin's expression took an uncanny resemblance to a haniwa's. "You what?"
"I have neither seen nor heard of such a thing." Ayaka found her smile, or at least a fake equivalent. "It may well be that you know the lay of the land here better than I do. I only set foot in Gensokyo for the first time earlier this month."
"Oh." It wasn't long till Ichirin brightened up. "That's not an impossible obstacle."
The barrier might well be, but Ayaka held her peace.
"It's there, I promise. If it can't be breached, that's just how it is. I just figured it wouldn't hurt to ask."
"You assumed it would not hurt to ask a shrine maiden for aid?" The thought was so absurd that Ayaka felt like laughing. Only, she was too bewildered and exhausted by the conversation to do more than blink.
"That's right." Ichirin was observing Ayaka more keenly now. "We wouldn't normally approach someone we have never met like this, but we saw you earlier when you were fetching water from the well, and..." Suddenly, she smiled, more brightly than Ayaka had ever seen her smile yet. "The moment I saw you, I thought it would be worth a shot. And when I came face to face with you just now, I knew for sure."
Ayaka's heart thumped so wildly Ichirin was sure to hear it even from the other side of the room. She thought fast. "I shall help you."
And here she had thought Ichirin's smile couldn't get any more dazzling.
Ayaka cleared her throat, trying not to look directly at the radiance and failing. "I have some conditions, however. To begin with, I cannot guarantee I am capable of puncturing the barrier. I must ask for a week to study the clan records for any useful detail on it, after which I can make an informed decision."
"That's fair."
"Furthermore, if the answer is that I can aid you, I must ask a favour from you in turn."
Ichirin nodded. "That's fair too." There was a pregnant pause. "What sort of favour?"
Ayaka steepled her fingers. "There is an evil spirit, infamous for her violence, which has recently resumed her haunting of Gensokyo. She must be exorcised, but I cannot do it alone. If you aid me to seal her away, I shall aid you with the barrier in turn."
Ichirin shifted uncomfortably. "Would it be okay if I instead talked to her and asked her to leave?"
"I have no objection as long as she is no longer a threat to my people." Ayaka raised her hand to hide her eyes behind her sleeve. "She..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Two weeks ago, she murdered my aunt. That is why I am here now."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Ichirin sounded like she meant it, too. Then, her initial shock and sympathy gave way to deep thought. "She wasn't drowned, by any chance?"
"I believe she was stabbed to death."
Ichirin sighed in relief. "I mean, it wouldn't have added up anyway, but..."
The silence that filled the small room, punctured only by the unabating rain echoing in from the outside, was more profound than it had been when Ayaka had been alone.
"I can only agree on my own part, of course," said Ichirin finally, glancing towards the looming outline of Unzan. "But if things are like you say, I'll help you deal with the spirit. Can it really wait a week?"
"I believe so. The evil spirit has made no re-appearance since my aunt's murder, and the records I have read so far suggest she tends to lay dormant for long periods of time." Again, Ayaka tried to smile. "A week should be more than sufficient to study everything the records have to say about the barrier. If you come back here a week from now around sunset, I will relate the situation as it stands then to you, and then we may plan accordingly."
"Thanks. Seriously." Ichirin stood up and gestured at her robes. "Can I borrow these for a while? I'll wash them and bring them back to you."
"Of course." Ayaka frowned. "Are you truly intent on going outside now? The rain... I mean, you may—"
"I'll be fine, thanks." Ichirin turned her back to Ayaka as she gathered her damp belongings. She only looked at her again when she was already at the door. "Thanks again. I mean it."
For the third time that night, Ayaka found herself mesmerised by a youkai's smile.
Unzan hovered nearby as Ichirin opened the door. As she stepped outside, he rose above her, serving as a bizarre but effective umbrella. With a quick wave from Ichirin, the pair vanished into the downpour.
Ayaka stared into the darkness with needles in her stomach. If it was that easy for Ichirin to stay dry, why had she arrived to the shrine completely drenched?
It was far from the only thought that kept her awake all the way to dawn, when she finally curled up on the tatami next to the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb and fell into a dreamless sleep.
It was still damp when Ayaka blazed a trail across the overgrown path, doing her best not to yawn and stumble. The sun had finally deigned to make an appearance, painting the yellowing leaves and grass in the shades of afternoon gold, glittering where the rays of light struck the remnants of the storm.
However, Ayaka only cursorily noted the beauty around her, or the sharp scent of earth, or the growing dampness of her hair. Before plunging herself back into the records, her first order of business was to see the barrier Ichirin had spoken of for herself. More could be gleaned from hands-on experience than her mother had ever given credit for.
She walked briskly, slowing down only to circumvent an exceptionally large puddle which covered the entirety of the narrow path and then some. Halfway past it, even as muddy water seeped into her socks, she paused to meet her reflection. Serious dark eyes framed by equally dark hair gazed back at her.
What had Ichirin meant, saying she had had a feeling from the first time she saw her? No-one had ever said much about Ayaka's looks: a few casual remarks about her having nice skin and intelligent eyes were just about the extent of it. Had Ichirin seen something different? Had it been something akin to what Ayaka had seen upon meeting her eyes in turn?
She hastened onwards. Nothing but peril and misery awaited down that line of thought. She should think of Ichirin as nothing more than a youkai and try to forget she had ever learned her name.
She was startled by how close to the shrine the barrier was once she finally stumbled upon it. Had it been winter, with only a scant few leaves blocking the line of sight, she could likely have seen the shrine gate from where she stood.
She pushed aside the overgrown hay, wilting but still stubborn against her touch. The barrier was effectively invisible, like rippling heat haze only visible at some angles, but Ayaka's instincts told her she had reached her destination.
She held out both hands for a tactile estimation of the barrier. Not all barriers had a tangible presence, but this one felt like glass, or hot ice, equally retreating and pushing into Ayaka's touch. It was incredibly ancient, and must have taken immense spiritual powers to raise, more than any one human or even one clan could channel. Just witnessing it left Ayaka it hushed. And all the more baffled she hadn't heard a peep about it before.
In any case, she couldn't traverse across it. If she wished to verify what was on the other side for herself, she would have to use her ability. Her weird, rarely useful ability, which was likely why she had been saddled with the duty of the Hakurei shrine maiden in the first place.
She rolled her shoulders and raised her hands to her brow, forming a triangle there with her fingers. It wasn't necessary to work her ability, but it helped her focus.
Soon, the familiar tingling sensation kindled at the base of her skull. Without further ado, she opened her other eyes.
Ayaka's sister had said she could only tell when Ayaka was using her second sight from the manner she went still and the way her eyes became glassy. Personally, Ayaka felt it should have shown more. Perhaps there was some wispy projection of her invisible to the human eye hovering in the direction of Makai, sure to raise questions in any youkai who saw it.
Well, never mind that. She focused on actually seeing ahead instead of idle fantasies. Another barrier, thinner than gossamer. Going underground. Deep underground. Farther, farther. Space worked differently where the fantastical was concerned, but the distance still seemed preposterous. Farther still...
She snapped back with a jolt and nearly tripped on a root behind her foot. It wasn't the immense darkness she had seen which had triggered her flight, or even her fear of what awaited her once her vision reached the outskirts of Makai proper. No, it was the magic crackling in the air, so powerful it was a physical presence. The very thought of it made her ill. So much supernatural force... it was a miracle everyone in the vicinity of such a place wasn't transformed into a youkai outright. No wonder there were so many of them lurking about. And that was merely on the safe side of the barrier...
She placed her hands back on the barrier for reassurance. Yes, all was well. It was sturdy and secure.
And fraying at the edges.
Ayaka focused. It was subtle, yes, but there was damage, clearer than daylight now that Ayaka paid attention to it. The fundamental structure was entirely sound still, but there was a kind of thinness to the borders of the barrier, like ice at the beginning of spring. Left completely alone, it would stand for another few centuries. If not...
"What can I do?" Ayaka asked herself without thinking, her heart sinking. Even if she had the power to do so, which she doubted, there was no way she could make a hole in the barrier and still call herself a shrine maiden, not after sensing what lurked behind it.
There was another tingling sensation. This was, it was the certainty of eyes staring at the back of her neck.
She spun around, raising her arms to shield her body. Nothing.
"Who is there?" she called out, fighting to keep her voice even. Still nothing.
Wait. There was something. A single black feather floated down from the sky and landed on the forest floor mere feet away from her.
Once nothing else happened and Ayaka was sufficiently convinced the feather was not a trap, she walked over and picked it up. It was pristine and darker than midnight. It could perhaps have fallen from an exceptionally large crow, but more likely...
She swivelled her head back in the direction of the mountain. Either she had been too slow to catch sight of the tengu who had shed the feather, or — and this thought made her shudder in spite of the sunlight — whoever it belonged to remained nearby.
She swallowed and began walking briskly back towards the shrine. With six and a half days to go and plenty of scrolls she hadn't even opened, she had no time to stand around slackjawed waiting for invisible youkai to manifest themselves before her. Were there not all kinds of monsters in the woods? Was she not trained to fight back against them? There was no reason to let fear rule her, even if the eyes followed after her.
And even if their owner seemed to be laughing silently.
As agreed, Ichirin returned at the crack of dusk. She was back in her strange white-and-blue getup, the borrowed clothes neatly draped across her arm.
Her eyes were even more stunning in the last rays of the setting sun as she handed the clothes to Ayaka. "Good to see you again. Did you find anything?"
Ayaka took the robes and clutched them against her chest. They had a powerful and inexplicable scent of gardenias to them. She quickly put them aside "Yes. I believe I can help you."
Ichirin heaved out a sigh of relief. "That's great. Really."
"I have to ask you to help with my predicament first, however. The evil spirit may be biding her time, but one of the villagers believes he saw her the night before. I must act at once."
"Sure. No problem. We can go do it right now, if you want." Ichirin turned towards Unzan. "We'd still like to speak to the spirit instead of fighting it if it's at all possible, but if she's not cooperative, we're ready to let our fists talk instead."
Unzan nodded once, solemnly. It was a minute gesture that was still unmissable coming from such a gargatuan being.
"Yes, of course." Ayaka bit her lip. She had rehearsed this part, but now the words clumped in her throat. "If we are to do that, we ought to split up. Perhaps Unzan ought to go alone."
Ichirin and Unzan exchanged confused looks before Ichirin turned back towards Ayaka. "Why?"
"The evil spirit is very elusive and never attacks large parties. If it is only the two of us, she is far more likely to show herself." Ayaka cleared her throat. "Perhaps Unzan could go and wait for us by the barrier. I believe my strength will be sufficient to manage both deeds in one night."
"Give us a moment, okay?"
The two youkai retreated beyond earshot, discussing something with serious expressions. Ayaka was just about to use her ability to try and read their lips when they returned, Unzan still frowning, Ichirin more subdued than usual.
Ichirin turned to smile at Unzan. "We'll meet up with you soon." Then, blessedly, she stepped towards Ayaka. "Let's go."
Ayaka nodded and began moving at once before anyone could have second thoughts. The Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb followed her, hovering just above the courtyard.
The forest swallowed her and Ichirin up whole and without hesitation. Ayaka shuddered in spite of extra layers she had dressed into ward off the inevitable cold. The woods were eerie enough in the daylight hours, and during the night...
A week ago, Ayaka wouldn't have dreamed of going there after the sun had set. But there she was, travelling alongside a youkai, hearing the distant chitters and sounds of nocturnal creatures and wondering just how many of them were youkai in turn, watching them.
Perhaps it was Ichirin's presence that did the trick, or perhaps it was the sheer novelty of a human willingly venturing so deep into the woods while the full moon stood at attention, radiating its frost-like light high above, but no-one accosted them. Ayaka was grateful for it. She could focus on traversing the narrow paths in a subtle loop, slowly inching their way towards her goal.
"So what does this spirit look like?" Ichirin asked, breaking the web of silence which had slowly descended over them.
"The records were somewhat unclear," Ayaka replied, truthfully enough. "My great-grandmother was the most descriptive of my ancestors in charge of scribing, and all she said was that the spirit has eyes like death and a voice like poisoned honey."
Ichirin laughed. "I've heard that said of at least a dozen other youkai."
"I understand that you wish to speak with her, Miss Kumoi—"
"Really, Ichirin is fine."
"My apologies, Ichirin. I meant to say... should the situation allow for it, I have no objections. If the evil spirit attacks us outright, however..."
"You have to do your duty, I know. When I said I'm ready to fight, I meant it." Ichirin eyed Ayaka with curiosity. "You only mean to seal her, don't you? That's why you brought all those ofuda, right?"
How did a youkai know so much about different types of ofuda? She could only have seen them in passing as Ayaka took stock of them while they walked. "Yes, that is correct. As long as it is enough, I am happy to take the more peaceful option."
Ichirin nodded, smiling softly.
For the next quarter of an hour, they traced the path in silence. Finally, after seeing neither hide nor hair of a single beast but one lone rat who had scurried ahead of them on the path, they reached an overgrown clearing.
Ayaka had discovered the clearing almost immediately upon moving to Gensokyo. She had been struck by its beauty in the daylight, but now, it was transformed, secluded and hushed, as though the surrounding nature was holding its breath. There was still a serenity to it, but a foreboding one. Ayaka wondered just how much her thoughts bled into her perception of the place as she walked to the middle of it and crouched next to its only distinctive landmark.
The stone was weather-beaten and as ancient as the barrier. Ayaka suspected if it had once served as a road sign, but any symbols carved into it had long since been eroded away by rain and sunlight. It was simply a rock now, with weeds burgeoning all around it and moss threatening to cover its entire surface.
A simple rock, except for the latent hint of divine power, as inexplicable as it was faint. Even when Ayaka closed her eyes, she could only barely catch the sense of it, retreating from it like a shy beast at the first sound of approaching footsteps.
Ichirin looked around, absent-mindedly toying with the ring she still carried with her. "Is this the place the spirit usually haunts?"
"No." Ayaka stood up, keeping her back turned. "The truth of the matter is, the most recent sighting of the spirit was more than fifty years ago."
The pause Ichirin made was so brief it didn't register as a sign of real surprise. "What about your aunt?"
"Nobody knows what killed her." How Ayaka wished her robes wouldn't rustle so. "There were no witnesses. It was likely a youkai, yes, but even that we do not know for absolute certain."
"So why are we here?"
Ayaka turned slowly, deliberately, and met Ichirin's eyes without actually looking at them.
Like arrows from a loosened bow, the ofuda darted out of her hand.
She wasn't too surprised when Ichirin dodged the volley, ducking underneath it with supernatural speed. Without hesitation, she launched the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb forward, intent on sweeping the youkai of her feet.
This too Ichirin nearly dodged. She hopped to the side, awkward where the orb grazed her calf, but centred and focused. She blocked Ayaka's second barrage seemingly without thought.
And so it continued. Ichirin's speed and evasion were impeccable: the ring gleamed in the moon with each movement of her hand, each lunge and twist and strike avoided, like a prop in a ritual dance. But it was a dance that would inevitably come to an end, and soon. It was only a matter of time till the youkai would have to act, but still she insisted on making no counter-attacks, attempting no distractions, taking no steps to flee...
Ayaka found herself panting, utterly out of breath, and above all, baffled. That was why she didn't release the charged ofuda already at her fingertips. It had to be a trick.
She caught a breath. "Why do you not strike back?"
Ichirin kept her guard up. Her headscarf had fallen askew in the tumble, unveiling her bright hair, lustrous where the light struck it. Other than that, she appeared entirely unruffled.
"I knew this would happen." She smiled, almost as an apology. "Unzan foresaw as much."
"Then why did you come here?"
"Unzan can only foresee things so far. And I wanted the chance to convince you of our intentions."
Then, Ichirin did the last thing Ayaka had expected. She lowered her hands till they were flat to her sides and met Ayaka's eyes. "Let's talk."
The divine energy sealed into the ofuda burned at Ayaka's fingers. She allowed some of it to discharge over her skin. The backlash raised her skin to goosebumps. "I cannot listen to a youkai."
"Even if we're on the same side?" Ichirin's smile, faint and lop-sided in comparison to the sunlight she had previously bestowed Ayaka with, was nevertheless genuine. "Before Lady Byakuren was sealed away, she was friends with a shrine maiden. Maybe your records even say as much. But even if they didn't, I promise you it's true. Lady Byakuren has nothing against humans."
"That is not the same as wishing us well."
"She wishes for peace. We all do. And now, it's closer than ever." A gleam of genuine enthusiasm lit up Ichirin's face. "It's still a rumour, but it's growing by the day. Some of the most powerful youkai the land over are planning on creating a whole new world where humans and youkai can live side by side."
"Why?" Even assuming Ichirin's Lady Byakuren was everything Ichirin said she was, powerful youkai plural sounded extremely ominous.
"You're not from here, right? Then you must know that everywhere but here, our numbers are falling. Even underground, we get words trickling down telling us that fewer new youkai are born, and more and more just fade away." Ichirin swept a lock of hair behind her ear. It fell back to her brow almost at once. "So, someone took notice and began planning for a safe haven for youkai. And since youkai can't exist without humans, it only makes sense it would be a land of peace for humans as well. Don't you think so too?"
Ayaka said nothing.
"I know what I want." Ichirin moved the ring to her left hand and extended the other towards Ayaka. "I don't know if that land ends up being more than a dream, but I want to see it happen. I know Lady Byakuren would want that, too. And you can help make it true."
Ayaka looked at the hand reaching for her, identical to a human's in every way.
"There was," she began slowly, "a mention in the records of a traitor to the clan."
Ichirin sighed, her hand unwavering. "That's just how they would have put it, too."
Ayaka said nothing for a long while. When she finally did, her voice was entirely flat. "I never wanted to be a shrine maiden."
Ichirin looked on in compassion as Ayaka continued. "I have no interest in gods, and even less in exterminating youkai. I didn't want to come here. All I ever wanted from life was to be able to live it without ever going hungry and never having to hurt anyone. I never wanted..." She swallowed, unable to go on.
"And I never wanted to eat humans." Ichirin took a half step forward. "That's why—"
Whatever she had intended to say was cut off by the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb ramming directly into her unguarded side.
Ayaka moved the instant Ichirin toppled over, tossing a pair of ofuda to secure the youkai's wrists to the ground. Not that she would rise soon regardless: the divine power in the orb, channelled into it by Ayaka's aunt before her demise and bolstered by Ayaka during the lull in the battle, ensured a full contact hit from it would daze any but the most powerful of youkai.
"I never wanted to be a shrine maiden," she repeated, more to herself than to Ichirin, "but it is too late now. That is what I am."
She meant to go on, as the sound of truth soothed her nerves, but she couldn't. She swallowed, then swallowed again. It did nothing. Her throat had simply closed up.
She pulled more ofuda from her sleeves. Being sealed into the stone wouldn't hurt Ichirin. Even if it did, why would Ayaka care? Hadn't she just explained to herself what her duty was?
It certainly wasn't to shed tears. So why wouldn't they stop flowing forth, like some dam had burst?
"I am sorry." It was a choked sob, barely audible, but it was the best she could manage. It was difficult, almost impossible to concentrate enough to charge the ofuda, but it had to be done. She couldn't back away from the dead end that was her life.
If Ichirin had said something, even to curse her very name, she would surely have felt better. But the youkai said nothing. She lay dazed in place, eyes glazed over. Only her hands moved, instinctively struggling against the bonds, more like the last feeble twitches of a fish at the bottom of the boat than a real escape attempt.
Ayaka focused her attention on the stone. Good. A firm, solid anchor. Think of nothing else but the process itself. Stop weeping. Focus.
Finally, the ofuda began to charge.
"My, my. And they call youkai treacherous."
The power which had seeped into the paper dissipated at once. Ayaka blinked, desperate to locate the source of the voice. It hadn't been Ichirin's: it had been huskier, yet also melodic, like a low strung instrument. It was also filled with unbridled malice.
Ayaka turned time and time again. There was no-one. Or nothing.
The voice chuckled. "Are your abilities so weak you cannot even sense me? Your ancestors must be so ashamed of you. For more reasons than one."
"Show yourself!" Ayaka would have preferred it if her voice didn't crack, but at least it carried to the edges of the clearing.
"They must be very impressed by your ability to read records that never existed, however." The source of the voice was moving: it seemed to be everywhere in the clearing at once, shifting every time Ayaka jerked her head in its direction. "A tale from a thousand years ago, when the all scrolls stored at the shrine that were more than two centuries old were burnt forty years before you were born? Most remarkable."
Ayaka flinched. "How do you know that?"
The voice's chuckle rose to full-blown laughter. "What do you think, you snake of a shrine maiden?"
A deep darkness slowly poured from the shadows of the trees and into the clearing. It took the form of a young woman with bright forest-coloured hair of no human who had ever lived. Its feet remained a pale, indistinct mist, only a vague suggestion of shape beneath her billowing blue skirt.
The evil spirit smiled and flicked her hair aside. The knife in her hand glinted as she brought it back down. "Don't you look shocked. You cannot pretend you have never heard of me."
Ayaka's voice was no longer her own.
"You... you," she stumbled. She pointed an accusing finger at the evil spirit. "But you have not manifested in..."
"In... in how many years?" The evil spirit mocked Ayaka's delivery with a superior smile. There were stains on her blade, but there wasn't enough light to see how fresh they were. "You shouldn't believe everything you read. After all, just what do you think happened to your aunt?"
The bottom fell off Ayaka's stomach. "You mean, you truly did..."
The evil spirit chuckled again. "And here you are anyway, wandering into my territory in the dead of night. Not only that, but you went and attacked the only person who might have interceded on your behalf."
"She is a youkai. She would not have helped me." It was a struggle to keep her hand from trembling, but Ayaka tried to focus regardless. Her ofuda and the orb were her only hope.
The evil spirit shrugged. "I don't pretend to know what she would have done. What I do know, however—"
There was a rush of air. Ayaka yelped as the evil spirit was suddenly right in front of her, her unarmed hand right before her eyes and glowing with green wisps of magic that looked like poisoned stars.
Ayaka raised her arms to protect her head just in time, but it was barely a consolation: the ofuda fell from her fingers as her hands burned, burned, spreading up her arms with a cold fire that was eating her flesh down to bone and—
She opened her eyes. Her arms still hurt, but they were not actually on fire: the stars had sunk into her flesh like tiny blades, chipping off miniscule portions of her.
Death by a thousand cuts.
She stumbled backwards, forehead streaming with cold sweat as the evil spirit summoned more wisps, clearly in no rush. Where was the orb? She needed it now more than ever.
The second volley struck, this time hitting her torso and legs alike. Darkness fell momentarily as burning agony returned hundredfold, but she kept moving. The evil spirit's laughter rang in her ears.
Focus. Focus! Where is that orb?
As Ayaka forced her eyes open and looked around, her eyes fell upon the evil spirit's face. For the first time ever, she truly looked at it.
She was looking into a mirror.
Her hands fell, the pain suddenly distant. Yes, those were definitely her cheekbones and her chin. The hairline and the nose were slightly different, but even there the resemblance was uncanny. Even the eyes...
Her right eye exploded with an impossible pain.
Ayaka fell to her knees and then flat against the ground, screaming and desperately clutching the damaged side of her face. The agony was unbearable, so nightmarish she couldn't even imagine opening her eyes assuming she still had both of them, a thought that only made her sob twice as loudly.
Feebly, she tried calling for the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb. No response. She didn't have enough training. How could she have had? All the same, she cursed each and every circumstance which had led to this moment where all she could do was lay down and wait for death.
Only, the evil spirit appeared to have lost interest in her. Falling back on her second sight, Ayaka saw the monster falling back and hovering over to where Ichirin lay instead. She wore a strange expression, so different from the confident smirk she had worn when confronting Ayaka. Curious, and almost uncertain.
Slowly, the earlier wounds made themselves known, forming a constellation of pain with her eye as its brightest star. Just what would kill her first, the pain or the loss of blood, but then it no longer mattered as what little remained of her vision dimmed, like she was falling, falling...
Whispers, and whispers that sounded like shouts, all slurred together like leftover rice gruel. None of the words made sense, and so Ayaka didn't try to respond. The foggy embrace around her was cold but comforting, and so she tried leaning into it.
Next thing she knew, she was floating, flying on top of that fog, carried off to the gods knew where. All the way to the moon, perhaps? That was fine. It was over.
Ayaka shot up with a startled jolt. She immediately regretted it.
She fell back down as her body punished her haste by grinding all her innards into a fine powder. For a few choice moments, all she felt was bewilderment. Something bad had happened, that was all she knew. Then why...
Slowly, she recognised the ceiling of the shrine and the late afternoon sun filtering in through the door. Equally slowly, she realised to her wry amusement that she had awoken because the usual hum of the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb wasn't there.
Less amusingly, she realised she could only see through one eye. Upon frantically scratching at her face, she realised it was because half her face was tightly bound with cloth.
More details filtered in.
Though it hurt just as much as before, she sat upright as disbelief flooded in. How was she still alive? Had she not...
As she caught her breath, she saw she was wearing her spare robes and that all of her wounds been dressed. She raised her bandaged arm, firmly layered where the magical lights had pierced her skin. Even with the dark splotches marring it, she recognised the blue and white fabric of the bandage.
The sun was already setting when she made it off of her futon, clinging to the walls for support. She didn't dare remove the bandage around her eye. Whatever truth lay behind it was more than she could take at the moment.
Someone had brought in a bucket, filled to the brim with cool water. Nothing else had changed, save for the missing orb.
And the letter.
It sat at the corner of the table, weighed down by a stone. Ayaka sat down, wincing as she did so, and picked it up.
The message was brief, only one sentence, written in the careful but wobbly characters of someone who had learned to write well into their adulthood. Even without having ever seen it, Ayaka guessed this was exactly what Ichirin's handwriting looked like.
I guess it isn't our time yet.
Ayaka entered a whole new layer of agony by doing so, but it couldn't be helped: she hurried to the door and slid it open as fast as she could. An empty courtyard awaited her. A few yellow leaves dragged along the ground, tossed about by the cold wind.
Her one good eye stung terribly, and she wiped it dry as quickly as she could, only for fresh tears to take the place of the old. Her legs soon gave out from sheer exhaustion. She sank onto the porch, keeping her head up only by leaning it against the doorway.
By the time the sun was nothing more than a golden rim behind the mountains, her tears had taken her remaining strength, and the cold seeping into the air made her shudder. Still, her stillness had become almost a comfort, an excuse not to think of anything else.
She sat there till true night fell, breathing in the scent of gardenias.