"Where are you going this early, Awazuki?"
Awazuki froze mid-step, one foot on the porch, the other landing awkwardly on the courtyard. Hadn't Grandmother been fast asleep when she had checked?
Despite her pounding heart, she turned to face her, looking as nonchalant as possible. "One of the village children has a cough, and his parents asked me to come and pray for him today."
Grandmother nodded, but her wrinkly brow wrinkled ever further. "How many times have I told you not to push simple tasks to the following day?"
"Very many, Grandmother." Awazuki hesitated. Though she had instinctively lied, the fact was she couldn't keep Hijiri as a secret from her family for long. Inevitably, one of the villagers would spill the beans, and then what if Awazuki hadn't spoken of the nun before then? She might as well have paraded her around the shrine loudly introducing her as a youkai.
Grandmother frowned. "What's with that gormless expression?"
"Nothing, Grandmother!" She wired her jaw shut. She'd bring Hijiri up later, after coming up with a reason why she couldn't come to meet them. Meizuki could spot a youkai from a hundred paces, and Grandmother had been a respected shrine maiden in her day. Either one of them could sense her true nature the instant they clapped their eyes on her.
From Grandmother's intensifying glare, she realised she had stood in place lost in thought for too long.
"Um..." She ducked her head to escape the baleful look. "Is there anything Meizuki needs from the village?"
Grandmother's disapproving expression softened. "No. We are adequately equipped for now. What she needs the most right now is rest and plenty of it."
"Alright. I'll go on patrol after the prayers, so I won't be back till nightfall."
Grandmother nodded. For the first time Awazuki noticed just how exhausted she looked. "Very well. Stay safe."
I'd better enjoy this while it lasts, Awazuki thought as she hurried down to the village, It won't be nearly as easy once Meizuki gets back on her feet and she and Grandmother are free to leave the shrine.
She grimaced, spooking an on-coming villager, then blazed through Reishoumiya so fast the locals barely had time to bow.
Hijiri was waiting at the promised place, staring at the horizon with glazed eyes. She didn't notice Awazuki till she was standing right in front of her.
A warm smile spread on her face. "Good day, Miss Hakurei. I wasn't sure you would come."
"Of course I would." Awazuki found herself smiling in turn, and hastily wiped it off her face. There was being enthusiastic, and then there was being gullible prey for youkai." Look, there's something we still need to talk about if we're going to make this work."
Hijiri glanced at the nearest house. "Perhaps we could do so further away from the village? I have lodgings here, but my followers prefer to sleep outdoors, and have made a camp for themselves near the waterfall by the mountain. I believe that is far away from curious eyes and ears."
"You have foll—" Awazuki realised she was yelling, and hissed the rest of the sentence. "What do you mean you have followers?!"
"They are simply like-minded youkai who have the same cause as I do." Hijiri's smile looked sincere enough, but Awazuki kept expecting fangs to sprout from it any moment now. "I assure you they are all most respectable and inoffensive. In fact, I believe you would get along famously, putting aside certain... viewpoints."
Awazuki wrinkled her nose. "Right." The more she heard, the less she liked it. If she had understood correctly, Hijiri had just asked her to walk into the heart of youkai territory where her cronies lay in wait. "Usually, this is the part in the fairytale just before the one where the human gets devoured for trusting the youkai."
Hijiri sighed. She looked disappointed, but that could mean anything. "Is there an oath I can swear? To promise that I will never harm you, except to defend myself or my associates?"
"Swear by Buddha?" Awazuki suggested after a moment's pause. She wasn't certain Hijiri actually followed the creed, but it was all she could think of.
"Very well. I swear by Buddha and every bodhisattva that I will not allow you to come to harm today, by my hands or any others, unless it is to prevent harm to others."
Awazuki took a deep breath. It would have to do. For magic's sake. "Fine. Let's go. But not to that camp. Today, spending time with one youkai in the woods is more than enough."
"That is fine. I'm sure we can find a suitable spot for training elsewhere." Again, Hijiri smiled.
Despite her persisting misgivings, Awazuki felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders as they walked towards the woods.
She hesitated only for an instant before taking the decisive step into the forest. When she wasn't immediately mauled to death by a vengeful youkai with six-inch nails, she relaxed a little and followed Hijiri into the shade of the trees.
They walked side by side in silence for a long while, encountering neither animals nor other youkai. Due to her training, Awazuki kept her senses alert, but she had to admit the place felt much less ominous with, if not a friend, at least a reliable foe at her side. In fact, with warm morning light filtering in through the newly sprouted leaves, still small and freshly green, the woods looked almost beautiful.
"What was it that you wished to speak about?" Hijiri eventually asked, breaking her calm.
"Oh." The topic had completely slipped Awazuki's mind. "I meant to warn you, that's all. I don't know how long you can stay in the village undetected. Even if the villagers can't tell what you are, my family certainly can, and my sister won't stay bedridden forever."
"Indeed." A small crease formed between Hijiri's eyes as she side-stepped to the left to dodge a large root. "Is there any way I can persuade them that I'm acting for our common good?"
"Never. They have good reason to hate youkai. Odds are you'll have to flee Reishoumiya sooner rather than later."
Awazuki kicked a twig on her path and watched it clatter into the dry underbrush. Why had she admitted that? If Hijiri left, she'd likely never find another chance to learn magic. She ought to have kept her mouth shut and ensured Hijiri stay as long as possible, regardless of her eventual fate.
Still, Hijiri didn't appear perturbed by her words. "I shall have to keep that in mind. Thank you in any case." When Awazuki responded with nothing more than a non-committal mumble, Hijiri continued: "I will take my leave from the village and install myself here, then. If you wish, you can claim I'm some kind of a hermit who loathes other youkai hunters. Anything you believe will satisfy your family is mine."
She found herself smiling for a moment. "I'll come up with something less than flattering, then."
If Hijiri was insulted, she didn't show it. "To tell you the truth, I'm impressed by your clan's apparent perspicacity. I certainly was when you recognised my nature as soon as you did. Even people with spiritual power generally fail to see through my spells."
Awazuki shrugged. Her instincts had done most of the work, anyway. "I'm used to it, I guess. I've been a full-fledged shrine maiden for years now."
Hijiri blinked. "For years? But you look so young."
"I've fifteen summers. What of it?"
Hijiri smiled, but her eyes were sad. "Fifteen summers, and already an experienced youkai exterminator?"
"We live in a nest of youkai, remember? Sometimes I wonder whose bright idea it was to settle here." She kicked at another twig. "Then again, I suppose youkai are everywhere anyway."
"Yes." Hijiri stared into the distance. "And people fear youkai just the same here as anywhere else. It's the same circle of violence and misery no matter where we go."
The conversation dried up after this sombre proclamation. Awazuki stomped down the footpath they had found, feeling very tired despite the sunlight.
It was Hijiri who eventually broke the silence. "I have spoken with some of the local youkai, asking questions about a youkai with wings." The corners of her mouth curled up into a bitter smile. "Unfortunately, it appears no-one here trusts me yet. All I received in response was evasion and sullen looks."
"Oh." Awazuki took several steps forward before speaking up again. "I didn't think you'd actually look into it."
Hijiri slowed her pace and gave Awazuki a very serious look. "I care for all life, not simply for that of youkai. A powerful youkai attacking humans like that...it is just as detrimental to my goals as it is to yours."
Awazuki made no reply. Either Hijiri was a damned good liar — she is a damned good liar, she reminded herself, if her spiel at the village was anything to go by — or she genuinely meant what she said. And despite everything, she wanted to believe it was the latter.
"Ah." Hijiri paused entirely. "This looks like a promising spot."
They had come across a small clearing, with soft grass and stalks of bamboo growing by a thin stream that ended in a small lake not far from where they stood.
Hijiri located a nearby tree stump and sat down. Awazuki followed in suit, perching herself on a mossy rock, then looked expectantly at Hijiri.
However, it looked like Hijiri wasn't ready to start spilling out the secrets of magic just yet. "Before we begin, there's one more thing we need to discuss."
Awazuki suppressed a groan. "Is there another catch?"
"Not as such." Hijiri flashed her a tight-lipped smile that vanished as soon as it had appeared. "I'd like to tell you about how I became a youkai."
The meaning of the words was obvious, but it was only after several heartbeats that Awazuki began to digest them.
"You—" She halted. Saying it out loud would just make her look stupid.
Either way, Hijiri caught her meaning just from the one word. "Yes, I was a human once. A mortal nun, as you probably surmised. As for why I am no longer one..." the corners of her mouth twitched. "To make a long story short, I experimented with magic too far, and too often."
Awazuki's stomach lurched.
"You mean..." she began, unsure how to continue. Had this endeavour been a waste of time from the beginning?
"It's not the inevitable fate of those who study magic, if that is your question? The magic I studied was specifically the kind intended to change me, to make myself younger, more powerful, capable of resisting encroaching death. When I cast my final spell as a human, I had an inkling of what was about to happen, and could have chosen otherwise."
She fixed a gentle gaze on Awazuki. "Since then, I have spoken to many youkai who were once human. In almost every case, the transformation occurred after extended exposure to very strong magic, or one decisive, extremely powerful dose of it. Simply studying magic, especially if you use it on others and not on yourself, should let you to retain your humanity for as long as you wish."
Awazuki let go of a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. "That's good."
"However, exposure of magic can still alter your appearance. For instance, my hair took this hue while I was still human." Hijiri's fingers lightly brushed against two-toned tresses. "Such mutations are not uncommon, and can be severe. For instance, there was a magician in Nara who grew horns and had his skin turned blue."
Awazuki shuddered.
Hijiri nodded. "I can all but guarantee you will not become a youkai, but I cannot guarantee you won't change in other ways. If this prospect troubles you, I must ask you to reconsider. Otherwise, we may begin."
Awazuki prodded at the moss, avoiding Hijiri's eyes. Some part of her had expected a snag: it had all been too convenient, too simple. And yet...
"Could you..." She swallowed. "Could you show me another spell first?"
Hijiri nodded. She closed her eyes, and chanting lightly under her breath, brought her hand forward. A pale white glow enveloped her hand, and slowly spread up her arm. Hijiri opened her eyes, and with her glowing arm, picked a spruce cone from the ground. She placed it between her thumb and index finger, and closing her eyes again, lightly pressed down.
The cone exploded into splinters.
Awazuki stared. Then, her earlier enthusiasm bubbled back up. To hell with risks.
"Let's do it. Right now."
Hijiri smiled. "Very well. Follow my lead."
She moved away from the stump and sat instead onto the ground, crossing her legs with practised ease. She placed her hands on her thighs with their palms up. "The first thing you must learn is how to meditate."
"Huh? What does that have to do with magic?" She couldn't think of anything further removed from the kinds of lights and explosions she had looked forward to.
Hijiri's eyes fluttered half open. "Even if it isn't Buddhist magic, you must learn to empty your mind and concentrate."
Awazuki groaned, but she followed Hijiri's lead. Her legs wouldn't bend the required way, so she forced them to a rough approximation, hoping it was good enough, and closed her eyes.
Thinking nothing should have been the easiest thing in the world, but to her great annoyance, Awazuki found every thought she managed to dismiss replaced by two new ones. First it was the uneven surface she was sitting on, then memories of her mother, frail and faint like a reflection on the surface of a lake, ready to mutate with the slightest breeze. Then, her mind drifted to Hijiri's earlier mention of allies, who she pictured as a gang of bloodthirsty oni, and she recalled that panic-filled winter day when the oni had attacked, and her sister's miracle following it. That in turn made her think of her first encounter with Hijiri, and her magic. Had Hijiri really been a human once? How old was she, really?
"You're not concentrating." Hijiri's voice was gentle and faint, but still broke what little concentration she had like a poorly played note in a beautiful melody.
She shook her head in irritation, like a dog trying to dry itself. "I can't do it."
"The very first step is to relax. Focus on something simple."
Awazuki rolled her eyes, then readjusted her position and tried again. Something simple... her heart was beating heavily, and she chose to focus on that. She couldn't feel it properly, not without placing her hand on a vein, but now that she paid attention to it, she could follow its insistent rhythm, steady, strong, never tiring.
I'm not relaxing, she thought, but she ignored herself and kept her mind on her heartbeat. She was no longer sure how much time had passed, but her eyelids were heavy, and if it hadn't been for her heart, she would've felt all time had stopped.
"That's much better," Hijiri said quietly, waking her from her reverie. Awazuki shook her head rapidly and blinked, mostly back to normal if still sluggish. Though she had a feeling she hadn't done it right, she felt strangely relaxed.
After a moment, she spoke. "This isn't what I had in mind."
"I'm afraid this was important."
"Fine. Can we try something else now?"
"Yes." Hijiri got up and re-seated herself closer to Awazuki. "I have the feeling you would rather learn something small immediately than wait for something more spectacular."
Awazuki perked up. "As long as we get to the spectacular later."
Hijiri smiled. "Of course. Now, I would like you to hold out your hands and empty your mind the way you did just now. After you manage that, I would like you to imagine a candle flame, as clearly as you can."
"Fine." Awazuki closed her eyes and eased into thinking of nothing but her heart. As soon as she had done so, she pictured a candle — an old-fashioned beeswax candle rather than a pine gum one, she noted to her amusement before hastily dismissing the thought as a distraction — a short, tapering candle, with its wick ever so slowly bending with the weight of the flame, a small, warm, flickering light, so frail and yet so hungry...
A sudden, curious warmth spread over her palms, and she opened her eyes wide. She only just spotted a sphere of light floating above her palms before it evaporated, leaving her feeling suddenly chilled but also amazed.
She stared at Hijiri. "Did I do it?" She hadn't just imagined it, had she?
Hijiri nodded. She said nothing.
"What?" Awazuki asked, her mounting excitement fading. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, not at all." Hijiri's stony expression broke, revealing a bright if somewhat perplexed smile. "I simply wasn't expecting you to succeed on your very first try. It took me until my fifth."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I see now why you were so eager to learn magic. You have the aptitude for it."
Awazuki glowed with an inner pride. It was as if the sun had left the sky and come to reside in her instead. "I always was a quick study."
She stood up, too pleased to stay still, only for her knees to buckle under her. She landed back on the ground, stunned. "Woah."
Hijiri's smile returned, with a hint of mischief Awazuki hadn't seen on her face before. "There is no need to fret. When I cast my first spell — a fortifying spell, if you can imagine — the moment its effects faded away, I found myself on my back, and couldn't have returned to my feet but for the aid of two younger nuns. Humans aren't designed for magic the same way youkai are, but with practice, you will soon find casting as simple as breathing. Though perhaps that should wait till another day."
Awazuki nodded, her brow furrowed. Already, her legs had stopped shaking, but she felt somewhat queasy. "How much practice will it take?"
"I'm afraid I cannot say. You're the first person I have ever taught, and as such I only have myself as a measuring stick."
The proclamation gave Awazuki pause. As bizarre as their arrangement was, she had never assumed she was Hijiri's first pupil.
"Thank you," she said, with urgent earnestness.
Hijiri's surprised, but pleased smile followed her for the entire duration of her stay in the village and all the way back home.
"Meizuki?" Awazuki whispered into the dark room through the chink in the door.
Just as she decided her sister was asleep and turned to leave, a faint voice replied from the floor. "Awazuki?"
Hastily, trying to be quiet, Awazuki opened the door and fell to her knees by her sister's futon. Without a second thought she touched her forehead. It felt reassuringly cool. "How are you? Looks like your fever's gone."
In the dim light, Meizuki's smile was only barely visible. "Grandmother said I should be well enough to walk in a week now, but I think I could already do it now."
"It didn't go so well when you tried it yesterday," Awazuki reminded her. She leaned back, the memory of Meizuki at the brink of death all too fresh on her mind. To think she was breathing at all, let alone almost back to health...dangerous or not, magic was as powerful as miracles.
And Hijiri said I have the aptitude for it.
"Was everything alright in Reishoumiya?" Meizuki asked.
"Huh? Oh, sure. Better than expected, really."
"That's good." Meizuki closed her eyes. "I knew you'd do well."
Awazuki grinned, but not without guilt. "Like your sister would let you down." She patted her hand. "I'll take care of everything, okay? You just rest."
She rose to leave, but Meizuki grasped her by the sleeve.
"Could you..." she began, then hesitated and let go. "No, I'm sorry. It's nothing."
Awazuki sat back down. "Clearly it's something. Come on, out with it. Your big sister's all ears."
Meizuki shook her head, but after a long pause she finally mumbled: "Well, I was thinking...only it's ridiculous...that you used to tell me.." she broke off again, turning as red as an oni's lantern. "No, please. It really is nothing."
"Tell you..." Understanding dawned. "You want me to tell you a bedtime story?"
Meizuki's blush deepened. "Please ignore it. I know we're far too old for it. I shouldn't have even thought of it." She gave Awazuki a pained look. "Please, just go."
Awazuki considered her options, then put on her kindest face. "Nope, if you want a story, you're getting one. I haven't forgotten my promise, you know. Besides," she added, "no-one will ever find out."
Meizuki didn't look entirely convinced, but her shoulders relaxed. "I don't think this really falls under it. And Grandmother might hear you."
"Sure it does." Awazuki leaned in closer and gave Meizuki a conspirational nod. "And tell you what? If Grandmother overhears and asks about it, you can say it was all my idea and blame me for treating you like a kid."
"That wouldn't be right," Meizuki whispered back, but her eyes sparkled.
Awazuki grinned and sat down more comfortably. "Okay, let's see..." She did her best to recollect the fanciful tales she had entertained Meizuki with back when they had shared a room. "Once upon a time, in the kingdom of the stars, there was a humble horseman in the service of the great empress of the skies."
Meizuki lied back down and sighed in contentment, allowing the words to wash over her. "I really liked this one."
"Good," Awazuki glanced at the door, though she didn't particularly care if she was overheard or not, before continuing with her story. "The horseman was known by all for his kindness and dignity of spirit. Birds flocked around him and his horse as he rode across the fields, perching on his shoulders, and no matter where he went, he was greeted with a smile. Then, one day, the empress sent for him with an urgent request..."
By the time she reached the end of the story, with the horseman rewarded by the empress for his selflessness and honesty, Meizuki was half asleep, her hand bunching up the fabric of her white kimono.
Awazuki brushed her hair off her forehead. Meizuki had assumed her role as the Hakurei Shrine Maiden so fully she rarely saw her as she saw her now, still little more than a child who needed a big sister by her side.
She exited the room and closed the door as silently as possible. She then leaned against the opposite wall, taking a deep breath, all the exhaustions of the day finally catching up to her. She'd need plenty of sleep if she wanted to cast more spells the following day.
The last thing she thought of after stumbling into bed, a faint notion just before drifting into slumber that she would no longer remember the following morning, was how Meizuki would feel if she learned what her sister wished to become.