Meizuki let go of the youkai corpse, which flopped onto the ground like a rag doll. She took another step forward, her expression a mask.
"I will ask again." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "What were you doing?"
There was no escape, Awazuki realised, not even in silence. Eventually, she would have to speak. The question that remained was which of the excuses bobbing and weaving on the surface of her mind would pass through her lips.
"I..." She began, surprised that her voice carried. "I found a way to deal with the baby."
Meizuki closed her eyes. Perhaps it were the shadows, but for the first time in her life Awazuki saw a distinct resemblance between her and Grandmother.
"How long has this been going on?" she asked, with a weight to each syllable.
Playing dumb would only prolong the inevitable. Still, Awazuki felt a splash of hope. While as she had been certain revealing her secret would spell disaster, Meizuki was still the most kind-hearted person she knew, barring perhaps Hijiri. Surely, if there was anyone she could explain the situation to after being caught, it was her. "It's not what you think."
"So you haven't been consorting with youkai?"
"These youkai are different." Awazuki didn't like the frost in Meizuki's tone, a stark contrast to her usual warmth, but she persisted. "They want peace as much as we do. They're the reason why there have been so few attacks over the past year." She forced a smile on her face. "I'm sure if you only met Hijiri and saw everything she has taught m—"
Meizuki interrupted her then, but not through any means Awazuki had expected. She did so by dissolving into tears.
Mortified, Awazuki at once stepped towards her, hand already raised to comfort, but Meizuki made a warding gesture to stop her in her tracks. She could do little but watch helplessly as her sister hid her face behind her blood-flecked sleeve and wept.
"Meizuki..." The icy grasp that had squeezed the breath out of her remained, but the sight of Meizuki's sorrow was numbing her to it.
After what felt like a small eternity, Meizuki lowered her hand. She looked older, somehow, and for the first time in her life Awazuki understood when people said she bore a resemblance to Grandmother.
"I knew you had changed," Meizuki's voice wavered, but she continued. "Even before Grandmother died, I knew something was wrong, but I still trusted you. Even when my instincts told me you were using magic, I pushed them aside because I thought you would never betray me..."
"I haven't betrayed you." That was one thing Awazuki was certain of.
"I never thought you could be lured into such an obvious trap," Meizuki continued as though Awazuki hadn't interjected at all. "You of all people should know what youkai are like. Have you forgotten Mother? Have you forgotten all the dead villagers? Have you forgotten what almost happened to me?"
And here Awazuki had thought she couldn't feel any colder. "I haven't forgotten for a moment."
Meizuki's posture changed. Her cold gaze was back, with only the remnants of tears in the corners of her eyes to mark it had ever been gone. "And yet you would allow yourself to be..."She hesitated, groping for a suitable word, then continued with sudden venom, "seduced by a youkai."
Awazuki snapped to attention. "I have done no such thing!"
"How can you say that when you have all but become one of them?"
The words struck their mark. Instinctively, Awazuki raised her hand to cover her deformed ear, but she couldn't do the same to her rising panic. The disappointment welling in Meizuki's eyes was joined by her own fears about her slow but inexorable metamorphosis.
"I'm not a youkai." The words came out as brittle as the last ice of spring. She would have protested with stronger words and more vehemence, but her throat closed up before she could.
Meizuki sighed and closed her eyes. "I know. But you are so close to the edge that I can't help but—" She halted here, biting her lip as fresh tears sprung forth.
Again, Awazuki yearned to offer her support. Again, she was rejected.
"I can't do this on my own," Meizuki finally continued, in a quiet, defeated voice. "Everyone else is gone, and now I've lost you, too..."
"You haven't lost me!" Awazuki knew better than try to reach for Meizuki's hand for a third time, but she held out her hands just in case Meizuki wanted them regardless. She forced herself to calm down. "I haven't forgotten what I promised you. Not even for a moment."
Meizuki jerked her chin upwards. For another eternity, she simply stared at Awazuki as though gauging her soul.
As the silence stretched on, Awazuki's attention drifted to the dead youkai. It had fallen with its face to the ground, its limbs askew, so small in death. Why had it returned? Why that day of all days? She supposed she would never find out, now.
"If you mean that," Meizuki finally said, wiping the corners of her eyes. When she next opened them, they flashed steel, "You must make a promise."
Awazuki felt so very tired. "Name it."
"You cannot use their magic again."
Oh. That was a tough one. Having to go back to nothing but the orb and the power of the moon would be almost as bad as hacking off a limb. That was before taking into account just how much she had come to love working out spells and the sheer joy of summoning magic to her fingertips.
Meizuki saw her hesitate. "It's for your own good. What will happen to you if you become a youkai?"
She had a point, as much as Awazuki hated it. She lowered her gaze. "I promise I will never use magic again."
"Good." Some of the severity on Meizuki's face eased off, but it didn't feel like a triumph. If anything, Awazuki thought she felt some of her soul drain from her body.
Worse, Meizuki wasn't done yet. After taking a deep breath, she continued. "Furthermore, you must never see those youkai again."
Awazuki's world stilled.
"That is even more important," said Meizuki after several failed attempts from Awazuki to come to grips with what was expected of her. "Once they see their plans to corrupt you have been foiled, they are sure to turn on you. They must go."
"To corrupt—" Awazuki began, raising her voice, only she couldn't continue. She was beginning to realise that not that long ago, she would have seen her situation exactly as Meizuki saw it now. Hell, had she herself not doubted Hijiri in the past?
She thought of Hijiri, her kindly eyes and gentle deeds masking immense power. She thought of Ichirin and her indomitable spirit, and the strange tranquility of Shou. She even thought of Tewi, her annoying tittering and biting words, and despite everything felt something akin to fondness for the rabbit.
She shook her head.
"I can't promise that."
Immediately, Meizuki's expression closed off. The spark of hope in her eyes vanished like the moon behind a dark cloud. "You have to."
"I can't." Come what may, she wouldn't be an oath-breaker or someone who turned their back to their friends. "Even if you can't fully trust them, the barrier is no joke. We need everyone who could possibly help us with it at hand till we know it's safe."
"We have already sent for aid."
"But it hasn't arrived yet. Until then..."
Until then.
She would never understand precisely why, but something about those words made a thread within her, stretched thin by the constant need for lies and secrecy, finally snap. The only thing that could make the situation any worse was pretending Meizuki was right about Hijiri and the others, that they were something to be tolerated while they might be of use and to be driven away or killed as a danger to humans at other times.
She braced herself. "No, not until then. Anything else you want, I will do, but I won't stop seeing Hijiri."
Meizuki made no response. Her skin, always so smooth, looked strangely waxen in the starlight.
Slowly, she turned her back to Awazuki. "Let's go home."
"Meizuki, I swear," Awazuki stepped towards her and was once again at arm's reach. "I would never turn against you or Reishoumiya."
"Fine." Meizuki's voice was quiet and resigned, the opposite of fine. "Let's go."
She stepped past the youkai corpse, leaving it where it lay. A warning.
Awazuki didn't follow. "I promised I wouldn't use magic."
"You did." Meizuki paused, her back straight and turned to Awazuki. "As it happens, I'm glad of how you dealt with the child. Let the youkai take care of their own."
"Right." Awazuki glanced in the direction of the camp, seeing not even a flickering flame. She could have reminded Meizuki that Kurumi was not full-blooded youkai, but the bloodless, exhausted manner in which she had uttered the words made all arguments seem futile.
"She is all the more reason why they must leave. What will the people say if they see them with the child?"
The thought hadn't crossed Awazuki's mind, and she felt all the more foolish for it. "I'm sure we could—"
Meizuki turned to gaze at her.
The remaining words died in Awazuki's throat.
There was no anger in Meizuki's eyes. Even the horror and disappointment from before had dissipated, leaving behind hollow, tired resignation. It was the same quiet despair she had worn after her tears for Grandmother had finally dried out, leaving behind only the loss and the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same.
It wasn't long till she turned away and kept walking, nothing about her gait suggesting anything out of the ordinary.
Awazuki followed, pulled ahead by an invisible tether that kept her moving even as the cold ground sapped the strength from her legs.
Well. This must have been what the shell of a cicada felt like after being abandoned.
At home, Meizuki confined herself in one of the smaller rooms of the shrine. Her shadow remained upright behind the door as Awazuki lay herself down for a night of dreamless, fitful slumber.
She woke up at sunrise to hear Meizuki speaking in a low voice to a visitor whose voice Awazuki didn't recognise. She threw her clothes on and rushed outside, but by the time she made it to the porch, all that awaited her was the retreating back of a nondescript villager.
Then, recognition set in. It was the young man who had been sent off to deliver a message about the border to any mystics willing to listen.
She turned towards Meizuki, hope and joy overwhelming all other sentiment. "What did he say? Why is he leaving already?"
Meizuki said nothing. She kept her eyes trained ahead of her and when she turned to go back inside, she did so with her gaze averted from Awazuki.
"Meizu—" But her sister had already been swallowed by the gloomy insides of the shrine.
Mercifully, not once did Eiki say I told you so. Awazuki felt bad enough without being chided by someone who came up to her hip.
In fact, she said nothing when Awazuki sat down cross-legged on the crossroads, heedless of the dampness left by the melting snow, and allowed all the words trying to make her heart burst pour out in a single confessional flood. She was silent for so long that as Awazuki concluded, spent and short of breath, she began to wonder if the jizou really was just a statue after all.
The stillness lasted for a few moments longer till Eiki jerked her head sideways, the full blast of her bright eyes landing on Awazuki. "Did you try speaking with her again?"
"Of course. Every few hours, both today and yesterday. She treats me like air." A bitter smile rose to Awazuki's lips. "I'm not sure I can blame her."
Eiki stepped down from her pedestal. There was a kind of rigidity to her movements around the knees, but she had no trouble seating herself in a perfect seiza next to Awazuki. She said nothing, but her brow was knitted as though she was genuinely trying to figure out a plan.
Awazuki left her to her pondering. She had only told the opinionated little jizou her story out of desperation to speak with anyone who might understand it, but she did feel slightly better having done so.
"I thought she would calm down after a while," she continued, more to herself than to Eiki, "but today, she didn't even leave the storage room till I went outside. I thought about writing her a letter, but..."
She turned her head to see that Eiki was using her finger to doodle butterflies in the dirt.
"I shouldn't be burdening you with this." In the early days of winter, the jizou had been baffled by snowfall. What could she possibly expect from a one-year-old, even a youkai one-year-old?
Eiki shook her head. "I can't do much, but I can listen and tell you what's black and what's white."
The corners of Awazuki's mouth tugged upwards despite herself. "So, what's the verdict? Has my soul been irrecoverably blackened by sin?"
"Of course."
Awazuki did a double-take. Surely she hadn't actually received such a blunt answer.
Eiki didn't appear to notice her surprise. Bending over, she retraced the wings of the nearest butterfly. "Everyone who passes by here has darkness in their heart. As does everyone who stays here." She brought her hand to her chest as if to check if her own heart was still beating, a contemplative frown on her brow. Did she have a heart? Awazuki had no idea. "I think... it's just a part of being alive."
Not a cheery thought, exactly, but one Awazuki felt acutely at the present moment. "So, there's no hope?"
Eiki looked up with such naked distress Awazuki nearly laughed at her plight and then felt a little bad. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. It's just..." She really shouldn't have discussed all this with a child. "Well, do you have some ideas about what I should do next?"
At this, the little jizou perked up, like a student asked by their master to showcase their prowess. "Let more light in."
Awazuki smiled. She thought of Hijiri, who would certainly agree with the sentiment. She really ought to introduce Eiki to her if she ever got the chance.
The uncertainty of such an opportunity sent her mind soaring. What was she doing, exactly, sitting there prattling about her woes and avoiding what she knew she ought to do for fear of upsetting Meizuki further? Did it really matter if her sister forgave her a little faster if all of Reishoumiya was wiped out from the map because of it?
"Good deeds, huh?" She was stalling, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. "Where do you think I should begin?"
It was an unfair question to put to Eiki, but she took it in stride. "What do you think is the most important thing you can do now?"
"...My duty. To protect people." Right. That was simple enough. There was no guarantee aid would arrive on time. The least she could do was to figure out how immediate the danger was, and potentially evacuate the villagers. And the most likely person to help her with all that...
She got up, blinking rapidly as her eyes clouded. She may have been a failure as an older sister, but she could still do her part as a shrine maiden.
She forgot to thank Eiki before rushing towards the village, but cast aside the thought of going back the moment it occurred to her. Making amends was on hold for now. Now, it was time to move.
Her lungs were on fire by the time she crashed head-first into Hijiri's camp, nearly setting her foot on the ashes remaining of the campfire and then all but colliding with Hijiri herself.
"Awazuki." Hijiri steadied her as she toppled over, wheezing for air. "What is the matter? We were worried when we didn't see you yesterday."
She sounded so up to speed, and from what little Awazuki could see of her face between gasps, she was fully awake, too. Did Hijiri ever sleep? She had never asked.
Trying and failing to form words, she shook her head like trying to chase away a pestering bug. She couldn't get into either that or what was wrong now, not till she knew more about the barrier's condition.
"Can..." she finally managed, only to be forced into silence by her protesting lungs.
When was the last time she had ran the entire way from the crossroads to the camp without a replenishing spell to keep her going after she had passed the village? Never, she supposed.
A light frown appeared on Hijiri's face. She let go and raised her hands. "Here, allow me..."
"No!" For all her disorientation, Awazuki managed to back away. Only after her outburst did she realise how rudely she had spoken, but when she glanced up, Hijiri looked rather more bemused than cross.
"It's... fine," she panted, in a milder tone. "I just... need a minute..."
Finally, her breathing evened out. She straightened her back, acutely aware her hair was all over her face and that her friends were spooked by how strangely she was behaving. She had never promised she wouldn't allow spells to be cast on her, only that she wouldn't do it herself, but the thought of letting it happen still felt like a betrayal.
Hijiri waited patiently for her to speak, her brow knitted in concern. In the corner of her vision, Awazuki saw Ichirin approaching, flanked as always by Unzan and with a swaddled bundle in her arms.
After several deep breaths, Awazuki found she could speak again. "Can you come to see the barrier with me right now?"
"The barrier?" Hijiri thought about it for only a moment before nodding. "Yes, of course. Has there been an emergency?"
"No, but— hi, Ichirin. Hi, Unzan. Hi, Kurumi." She cast the briefest of smiles on the soundly sleeping baby. "I'll explain it on the way. I just want to know how long it has till it breaks as soon as possible."
"I cannot guarantee I will be able to discern that, but I can at least try." Hijiri then smiled. "Shall we go?"
And, for all her misgivings, Awazuki felt flush with relief.
"Somewhere... around... here..." Awazuki hobbled forward, holding her arms out to find the barrier as soon as possible. Hijiri trailed after her, walking rather than floating despite the soaked ground drenching their feet.
It was funny how much better a clear purpose could make you feel. Gone was the sinking feeling of failure: she had a task at hand and fretting over her stifling promises and future could wait till it was completed. Even bringing Hijiri so close to the hallowed ground of the shrine had only made her heart jump once.
Finally, as she was about to give up and walk further before trying again, Awazuki's hand bounded against something invisible.
"Here we go." She felt for the barrier, allowing her hands to roam all over the invisible surface. It felt colder than it had during the winter, somehow, and she soon withdrew for fear of frostbite.
Right. She was human enough for the barrier, anyway.
"I shall go ahead then." Hijiri had walked over to her so quietly Awazuki only noticed her when she was right by her side.
"Be careful."
"Of course." Hijiri smiled again, but her eyes were serious. And when Hijiri was serious, things were serious indeed.
She stepped ahead and vanished through the barrier.
Awazuki spent several anxious moments stomping around the budding underbrush, trying desperately not to imagine what might be happening ahead. It would be fine. Surely.
Hijiri wasn't slowly approaching the cavern, unaware of the youkai with wings stalking her, opening its terrible eyes and raising its wand to strike...
She jumped when Hijiri returned, unharmed, but with a deepening frown on her ever-youthful brow. She spoke before Awazuki did.
"Do you know what is beyond the inner barrier?"
"A lair of sealed youkai?" What else?
"In a sense, I suppose." Hijiri inclined her head to suggest they leave. They walked for a moment in silence before she continued talking. "The barrier itself is very old. Older than I am, by far. Its creation must have taken a tremendous amount of power."
Awazuki pictured the ancient residents of Reishoumiya, climbing up the forested hill before the shrine was built, all gathering their spiritual powers to ward off the youkai with wings in a tremendous display of force. "Right. I did figure they really wanted to keep whoever's behind there where they belong."
"I may be more a matter of 'what' than 'who', as it happens." Hijiri slowed her pace. "It appears the fabric of reality is... porous around here."
"Well, sure. I could have told you that when we first met." The stupendous amount of youkai had to be coming from somewhere.
Hijiri halted. "I will get to the point. That cavern leads to other worlds."
Awazuki paused in her wake, stunned. "What?"
Hijiri nodded sombrely. Though as youthful as ever, there were shadows of her decades etched around her eyes. "I am far from an expert on these matters, but I can tell you the borders between the worlds can be very fragile. The cavern, from what I could gauge, is a direct gateway to elsewhere."
Awazuki shuddered. "And the youkai of wings is from there?"
Hijiri nodded.
"But... Meizuki..." Ignoring the sinking feeling that dawned as she thought of her sister, Awazuki persisted. "If the barrier still holds, how could she have been attacked by it? And for that matter, how did that other youkai..." Here, she swallowed her words. Did Hijiri know of the ragged youkai's demise?
"The best I can do is offer a guess." Whether she knew or not, Hijiri proceded calmly with her explanation. "Sometimes, with powerful spells, small parts of the weave unravel before they break entirely, allowing weaker things to pass through while keeping the powerful at bay."
"Like a fishing net with holes in it?" Awazuki pictured a sea of youkai, with small red-eyed fishes swimming through the gaps. What was the youkai with wings, then? An enormous dragon, perhaps?
"Perhaps rather a cracking dam, but the principle is the same."
It would explain how the ragged youkai could get in and out, at least. It had seemed downright weak for its kind. "But then, how was Meizuki attacked?"
"If we first assume that the youkai who attacked her was indeed the same one as the one you saw, it may be that though prevented from fully escaping their confines, they are capable of taking advantage of the barrier's weakened state to send a manifestation of themselves beyond it."
"One that could still attack?"
"Possibly, yes, though only at a fraction of the being's true power."
Despite the sunshine, Awazuki shuddered. "What exactly is it?"
"I cannot say without seeing them for myself." Hijiri's brow furrowed again. "Whatever it is, it appears to be something... primordial, almost, though whether it comes from Hell or Makai is another question entirely."
"Hell?!" Awazuki exclaimed much louder than she had meant to. Hastily, she lowered her voice. "You're telling me that cavern leads to Hell?"
"And Makai, yes." Hijiri paused again. "I rarely say this, but it would be much safer to reinforce the barrier for the time being than attempt to negotiate with those who live beyond it."
And therein lay the crux of the matter. "Will we have enough time?"
"I... yes. I believe so. Of course, it will likely deteriorate further before breaking down completely, but it should hold for some years at least."
"Enough time to send for help and renew it," Awazuki added. A memory of Tewi smirking about the imminent disaster flashed across her mind. How old was the rabbit youkai, exactly? Perhaps to her, a year was little more than a fleeting moment.
She didn't dwell on the thought. Her exhaustion, till then held at bay by urgency, came crashing back on her.
"Precisely so." Hijiri's smile morphed into confusion. "Is something the matter?"
"I'm not sure." Awazuki wasn't lying, either. Knowing they still had time had solved her most pressing problem in a single stroke, yet she felt no triumph and very little relief. Was this one of those things where she couldn't rest till she knew the matter was fully taken care of? But then, ought she not have been anxious rather than drained and hollow?
Slowly, tears she hadn't allowed herself to shed the previous night began to gather in the corners of her eyes. She turned away the second the first of them fell.
"Awazuki?" The way Hijiri uttered her name was tender rather than inquisitive, and yet it felt like a stab.
"It's nothing." Even as she said that, more tears followed the first. "I should be happy, but..." She shook her head, a bitter smile making its way to her lips. "I'm not really a good person, am I?"
Hijiri said nothing. She simply looked at her. Finally, as Awazuki's tears began to ebb, she offered her hand. "Would you like to talk about what ails you?"
Awazuki shook her head and wiped her eyes dry. "Can't. I've gotta be home before Meizuki—" The situation back at the shrine hit her with renewed intensity, but she managed to keep the second wave of tears at bay for now.
Gently, Hijiri took her hand. "Then I shall walk with you."
They plodded on slowly, so slowly the ten-minute walk stretched to half an hour. It wasn't long till Awazuki found her voice, and, for the second time that day, recounted her confrontation with Meizuki. It was harder the second time around, but much like Eiki, Hijiri listened without interruption, a comforting, supportive presence Awazuki knew would catch her if she stumbled.
"I am truly sorry," she said after Awazuki was finally done.
Awazuki managed a humourless smile. "I should be the one saying that to you. You might have to move again because of my carelessness."
"You intended no harm to come to us." For a moment, the only sounds were those of their footsteps on the snow and wet earth. "Do you believe it would be possible for us and her to discuss our situation?"
"I don't know." For a moment, she pictured a world where Meizuki sat by her side by the youkai's fire, summoning her first magical light. The spark of joy was quickly smothered by the memory of the last look Meizuki had give her. "It will take a lot of time. More than we have, I think."
"I see."
"Does this mean you will leave?" They had walked in a semi-circle giving the shrine a wide berth, but now, inevitably, the main path to the steps was nearly in sight. She slowed her steps down further till a snail could have out-paced her.
"Would it make your situation easier?"
Awazuki couldn't answer.
By now, they were merely a few steps away from the path and had halted completely. Eventually, Hijiri spoke. "Whatever the case, it's not something we have to decide at this very moment. Nor does it mean I am going to leave you behind."
"You'll come and visit?" It was a cold comfort, but still better than nothing.
"That, or perhaps..." When Hijiri next smiled, it did a much better job dispelling the shadows than the sun had. "If it pleases you, you could come with us."
Awazuki's heart stopped.
It took her a moment to understand she had dropped her gaze and was staring down at Hijiri's sandals while a violent blush crept up her cheeks. Her mind was far ahead of her, imagining all the wondrous places of the world, the adventures she could have, all with Hijiri by her side.
The dream was fleeting, however. "I can't. I could never abandon Reishoumiya." She shook her head to discard any remnants of the tempting fantasy, her bitter smile returning. "Even if I could, I wouldn't be much use to you without my magic."
At once, Hijiri's hands clasped hers.
Awazuki looked up, blinking in surprise. For a moment, Hijiri's expression transported her back to that cold, crescent-lit night she had first met her, only with none of the accompanying fear.
After Hijiri was satisfied that Awazuki was paying attention, she let go and straightened her back, maintaining her grave expression. "You are worth a myriad times more than your magic, Awazuki."
It was as though Hijiri's words had been a spell, paralysing Awazuki with a sudden love and longing. She could do little more than ride the emotion rushing through her, till finally they threatened to burst out as tears.
She looked away, not wishing to cry in front of Hijiri again, even if these tears would have been ones of gratitude rather than self-pity. How could she ever have thought all youkai were evil when here Hijiri was, strange and cryptic but incredibly kind in so many ways she couldn't even begin to put it into words? She opened her mouth in hopes some kind of a thank you would spontaneously fall out of it, but at that very moment Hijiri's attention jerked away from her to something in the direction of the shrine.
"Huh?" Awazuki turned and frowned through the empty tree branches, seeing nothing till she directed her gaze towards the gate.
There, she locked gazes with a mysterious figure.
At first glance, Awazuki thought the stranger was a man, but soon realised she merely wore the robes of a male courtier, with a flamboyantly coloured women's robe completing the ensemble. Her hair was tied to a high ponytail, but what really drew Awazuki's attention was the garish mark painted onto her bared forehead. Her expression was unreadable at the distance.
As she continued to stare, the stranger raised her hand, wrapped in beads, and held her palm towards Awazuki. revealing another strange mark identical to the one on her forehead. Then, she turned away, and slowly glided towards the shrine.
Awazuki stood in place long after she disappeared from her field of vision, feeling rooted to the ground. Something about the stranger had sent shivers of revulsion running down her spine.
She was jolted back to awareness when Hijiri re-emerged out of thin air next to her, paler than Awazuki had ever seen her before. She must have cloaked herself with a spell of invisibility, but inquiring further details about magic was as far from Awazuki's mind as humanly possible.
"Who was that?" she asked instead, bewildered and hoarse.
Hijiri swallowed before answering. "That... is the youkai exterminator who nearly caught us this winter."