"Think this one's dry enough?" Awazuki twirled a multi-pronged twig in her fingers, pausing to inspect it like she was meant to do battle with youkai with it.
Meizuki barely looked up from the mulch. "I'm sure it is fine."
"Right." Awazuki added the twig on top of those already on the cloth she had laid out for them. As she pulled her hand back up, she touched her ear before turning away. "I'll go towards the river."
Meizuki flashed her sister a quick smile, hoping it would be enough. "I will see you soon."
It seemed to do the trick: Awazuki grinned back, then walked downhill. A single yellow leaf, thin as a blade of grass, fell in her wake.
Meizuki returned her attention to searching for suitable kindling amidst the dead leaves and still struggling plant-life. It wasn't necessary work, exactly: the Hakurei clan could easily have asked for twigs in tribute from the villagers alongside food and firewood, especially after the most peaceful summer and autumn the land had ever seen during Meizuki's lifetime.
But no. Awazuki had had the right idea by suggesting they gather their kindling themselves. To begin with, the woods were safer for shrine maidens than the average villager, especially now the itinerant youkai exterminator whom Meizuki had never actually met had left. Besides, it felt good to do something other than cooking and spinning with her hands. Something to keep her mind from...
She scraped a few more twigs from the ground, then looked around to ensure Awazuki was beyond seeing distance. Once she was certain she was alone, she straightened her back and brought her hands to her chest, twigs and all.
The globe of light emerged more readily than before, as though each time she retrieved it, it worried at the edges of the invisible cavity in her chest it lurked in. It was small that day, no bigger than the tip of her thumb, its radiance as pale as the sun's obscured behind a sheet of clouds.
She narrowed her eyes. It wasn't just her imagination: the initial deep red of the orb was now distinctly and unquestionably pink. Whether that was a good sign or cause for concern, she couldn't tell. All she could tell for certain was that the strange powers dwelling within the orb had not initially been her own. But then whose...
A flash of memory, consisting of nothing but fluttering white wings, made her shudder. No. Whatever the orb was, it had nothing to do with the pale figure which now only haunted her dimmest and darkest nightmares, unknowable but for its wings and the emanating cold that was both bright and the void of death...
"Ouch!"
Meizuki automatically snatched the light as she snapped to attention. "Sister?"
No answer. Meizuki reabsorbed the orb, then lifted the hems of her hakama and began hurrying in the direction Awazuki had left for.
She found Awazuki crouched down at the centre of a small glade, staring at her hand as though she wished to lob it off.
Meizuki slowed her pace. The late afternoon light caught in Awazuki's hair, dying it with the verdant shades of the forest. But even taking that into account, it still appeared improbably... green. "Sister? What is wrong?"
Awazuki turned to look at her with the expression of a puppy caught in a misdeed. "It's nothing. I just caught my hand on a spike."
Meizuki looked at her hand. Nothing? Whatever it had been, and no matter how Awazuki now tried to keep the wound from sight, it had clearly bitten deep into the flesh of Awazuki's palm.
Meizuki's mind flooded with memories of flowers already as she crouched down next to Awazuki and took her wrist. She cradled the hand in spite of Awazuki's mute protest and closed her eyes, willing summer to return.
It came at once, the divine power which allowed her to mend flesh. She directed it outward through her fingers, bracing herself against the weakness which inevitably followed as she let go of it. Fortunately, she was already on her knees when dizziness struck. Had she stood, it would certainly have knocked her down.
Once done, she relinquished Awazuki's hand and did her best to breathe calmly. Healing had always been a strain, but now...
Awazuki brought her mended flesh before her eyes with an expression combining awe with concern. She quickly dropped the awe, with only concern remaining. "Are you sure you had the strength to do that?"
Meizuki forced a smile. "Of course, sister."
"I don't want you to waste your energy on something as unnecessary as—"
"It's fine." Meizuki mastered her tongue just in time to prevent herself from snapping at her. "Thanks to your care, I'm once again more than well enough for this."
Only after Awazuki reluctantly nodded and turned to look around did Meizuki allow her expression to change. Did Awazuki think she would shatter under the slightest of strains? Her sister, who had never had a knack for healing and had never understood how naturally it came to Meizuki or how well she knew her own limitations, thinking her a child again? Her sister, who before Meizuki's injury had been content to support her from the sidelines...
Awazuki gave a low whistle as she plucked something from the undergrowth and presented it to Meizuki. It was a bamboo tube, sliced askew to create a sharp edge.
Meizuki squinted. No, not sliced. It looked more like some small animal had nibbled through the plant, rendering the edge spitefully sharp. Meizuki's stomach turned looking at it. It was actually surprising it hadn't pierced clean through Awazuki's hand.
Then, she began to think. "Sister, do you know where the nearest bamboo shoots grow?"
"At least half a mile away. You think—"
Meizuki kept her words to herself. This was the kind of thing she preferred to let Awazuki state out loud.
"A trap," Awazuki soon obliged her. "But why? Who would ever come here but us?"
"Perhaps it isn't a trap," Meizuki suggested. "Perhaps a bamboo cutter passed by long ago and discarded it here?"
Or perhaps, said the quiet voice that dwelt at the back of her mind and which said things she never dared to say out loud, it was in fact meant for us.
After a moment of quiet consideration, Awazuki stood up, still holding onto the tube. "Right. We'll have to keep our eyes open, but it's not like we weren't already doing that."
And without any further comment, she walked away from Meizuki yet again.
Meizuki stared after her with a sudden heaviness in her throat, then shuffled back towards where she had abandoned her twigs.
She hugged herself as she walked. Since when had Awazuki begun to leave her behind like this? Once, it had always been Meizuki leaving and returning to a welcoming smile and clean courtyard. But now, even after she had recovered, it appeared Awazuki couldn't wait to remove herself from her presence...
"You have changed, sister," she mumbled, barely cognisant she was speaking out loud.
"First she hadn't changed enough, and now she has changed too much? Indecisive, aren'tcha?"
It was later that night, reflecting on the very moment she heard those strange words, that Meizuki knew she still had all the trained instincts of a youkai exterminator. She didn't flinch. She didn't jerk her head. She didn't, the gods forbid, cry out who's there? All she did was slowly reach for the ofuda tucked within the upper folds of her hakama, slow and quiet and inconspicuous.
"No matter." The voice appeared to come from everywhere at once. Though the sun was already lowering, the stark shadows of midday made an unexpected reappearance. "I suppose it's human to be fickle."
Meizuki swallowed, then adopted the voice she always used when dealing with strangers, villagers and youkai alike. "I cannot well converse with you if I cannot see you."
"Oh, you're a talker as well?" The voice suddenly let out a childish titter that still carried some menace to it. "Maybe it's in the blood."
Meizuki waited. No need to say show yourself to a youkai who spoke like this. It would inevitably make a dramatic entrance sooner rather than later.
And it did. Only, its entrance wasn't dramatic. Rather the opposite. When Meizuki next turned her gaze to the left, a slight figure that hadn't been there before stood next to a barren oak uphill from her. A small creature, like the runt of the litter from the poorest, most wretched of hovels, garbed in the barest of clothing, its hair so matted no comb could sink into it, covered from head to toe in dirt.
Except for its ears, long and white, sprouting from the top of its head.
The youkai hare let go of the tree trunk and sauntered vaguely in Meizuki's direction. Its gait was as strange as its appearance: half the time it made no progress and instead abruptly shuffled sideways or retraced steps it had already taken, all the while swinging its arms behind its back like a child at play.
It halted still uphill of Meizuki, close enough she could see each individual toe on its mud-caked feet, but not so close she could throw an ofuda and be entirely certain it landed where she wished it would. Close enough for an attack, all the same, and yet...
"...Is there something you want?"
The hare's smile was all teeth and mischief, yet strangely sweet. "Me? I want nothing. I'm golden." The smile widened, revealing even more pearl teeth. "But there might be something I can do for you."
Although Meizuki never engaged youkai in conversation unless she had no choice, she could instantly tell where this was heading. I'll do you the great kindness of devouring you, bones and all.
Only, the claws and fangs didn't come out. Nor did the hare's red eyes begin to shine with an unearthly glow. Instead, it balanced happily on the balls of its feet, brimming with more smugness that should have fit into such a small body. "I came to give you a heads up."
Meizuki kept her guard up and glanced covertly over her shoulder to see if Awazuki was within hearing distance. She was not, which was as expected. As strangely as she had behaved lately, Awazuki wasn't the type of person to knowingly leave someone alone with youkai.
"Nah, this is for your ears only," said the youkai, clearly relishing the startled look that rose to Meizuki's face. "Tewi Inaba only speaks to one human at a time."
Meizuki mastered her expression. "State your matter, then." All the while, she kept slowly — as that was the only option at such a distance — coaxing the Hakurei Yin-Yang Orb from the thorny bush she had hid it in when she had first arrived in the woods.
"It's simple enough." Tewi sat down in the mossy undergrowth, crossing its legs without a single thought to modesty and tilted its head. "You need to watch your back."
"I thank you for your consideration. I can assure you—"
"You're not hearing me. And you can quit dragging that ball over here." Though it wasn't yet in view, Tewi nudged its head in the direction the orb. "I'm not here to attack you. I'm on your side, see?"
Meizuki brought her arms closer to her body. "I'm afraid I cannot say I do."
"Then I've gotta explain, usa." Tewi bounced back up again. Meizuki was beginning to suspect the rabbit couldn't stay still for more than five seconds at a time. "There's gonna be a serious outpouring of youkai over here if you don't watch out."
"And this is an issue to you?"
"Of course. I don't want anyone crowding my territory." Tewi hopped — literally hopped — onto a nearby stump. "It's been bad enough with all these strangers and jinyou camping in the woods and cramping my style. Soon there won't be enough room to breathe without shoving your elbows out."
Meizuki considered these words. She couldn't shake the feeling Tewi was simply distracting her till its larger and more ferocious friend made its ambush from the shadows. Only there weren't any shadows around her. And youkai truly were territorial, were they not?
"I thank you for this knowledge." Politeness was generally a lost cause with anything but the kappa, but it came to her as readily as breathing. "I have to wonder, however, what you intend me to do with it?"
"Nothing, if you don't want to. I'm just being friendly." The smile Tewi gave to Meizuki to accompany the words had never heard of friendly. "It's not like I'm saying anything specific. You probably already watch out for any weird changes and keep tabs on travellers. Not that it's the travellers you need to watch out for right now."
Before Meizuki could decide what to make of the comment, Tewi crouched down and snatched something from the brittle undergrowth. It turned it in its hands, then hurled it towards Meizuki.
Meizuki's coiled muscles moved before her thoughts did. She ducked, the missile whirring over her head.
Tewi vanished into the underbrush with a giggle.
After she had made sure no other youkai were lurking nearby, Meizuki went to pick up the missile from where it had landed. She found it in no time. It was a piece of bamboo, nibbled sidelong to create a sharp spike.
"Meizuki!"
Awazuki ran downhill, her cloth with its twigs tied to a bundle across her shoulders. Despite the cooling air of encroaching, she had at some point hitched up the sleeves of her robes. The last of the afternoon light shone off her pale arms.
She slowed down as she caught sight of Meizuki, her smile dropping. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Meizuki considered her reply as she arranged her expression in line with serene complacency. Not a ghost, obviously, but...
"Nothing of the sort, sister." She turned so that Awazuki couldn't see her right hand and carefully dropped the bamboo. It rolled down her hakama and onto the moss with next to no sound. "I was merely wondering if all the villagers have enough kindling for the upcoming winter."
Awazuki's expression softened. "Let's collect more tomorrow, then." She looked up at the sky. As she did so, her hand once again went to her ear. "Assuming it doesn't rain."
Meizuki made sure to smile. "I would like that."
She gathered her bundle, feeling a twinge of guilt at how slight it looked by comparison, then steered Awazuki so she wouldn't step near the second piece of bamboo. A punctured foot could be mended, but the last thing they needed now was a ruined sandal.
They walked out of the woods in silence, one that Meizuki told herself was companionable.
And if a pair of red eyes followed them back to the shrine, she refused to acknowledge it.