"The crows are restless today."
The farmer looked up from his work, his frown deepening the longer he examined the horizon. Today as yesterday, the dusk had come too fast. "You reckon?"
His companion, his friend from earliest childhood, nudged his shoulder in the direction of the nearest woods. "Can't you hear them?"
The farmer tilted his head. Now that he was paying attention, he could indeed hear the cacophony echoing from the distance. It sounded like the birds had stumbled across a carcass and were now arguing who got the choicest cuts.
He put his head back down. "Better ignore them." Still, hearing crows was preferable to not hearing them while still knowing they were there. You never knew when they would fly to the mountain at the end of the day and report their findings to the mountain people.
"One more row," the farmer reminded his friend when kept staring in the direction of the din, and heard him groan as he returned to tending the paddy. His bad back was acting up again, no doubt.
The farmer crouched down further and tended to the weeds, resisting the temptation to look around. The faster they were done catching up, the sooner he'd get to return home. He had been blessed with a clever, gentle wife, and happy, thoughtful children, all of whom were surely waiting for him to return at that very moment. Besides, his feet had been soaked for so long they were beginning to grow scales.
"My grandmother could weed faster than you," his friend groused in a monotone, plaintive voice.
"Your grandmother, if her stories are true, once weeded an entire field before her rival managed a single row," the farmer replied, too tired and distracted to even raise his voice. He looked at the work ahead and gave a resigned sigh. "Fine. Half a row, and then we'll go."
"Excuse me!"
He looked from his toil to see a tall figure waving at them from the road. He exchanged looks with his friend, then shrugged and approached the figure, who in turn waited patiently for his arrival.
The voice was a woman's, but the traveller would have been tall even for a man. Closer up, the farmer saw the imposing height partially explained by long-toothed geta, but even without them, she would have towered above him. She wore no hat: instead, she had fashioned together a collection of scarves and rags to shield herself from the sun. It also left her face and hair completely obscured. Otherwise, her clothes merited no attention. She had strapped a pair of hand-scythes to her back. An itinerant worker, or at least someone dressed as one.
"Greetings, stranger." Surely a murderer or a mugger wouldn't approach two people at once while the sun was only beginning to set? "If you're looking for work, you've come to the right place. We could always use an extra pair of hands."
The traveller chuckled. "Thanks for the offer, but I already have a job promised to me further down the road." Spoken like a young person, with a hint of an Edo accent. "I only meant to ask if the village is still far away."
"If you continue down the road, you will reach it before sunfall."
The traveller straightened her back, and the farmer saw that no, she hadn't even stood at her full height. Were all people from Edo this tall? "That's what I was hoping to hear. Thanks very much."
She was already making to leave when the farmer cleared his throat. "Perhaps, ma'am, you ought to wait till we can go with you. The road has not been safe lately."
"Huh." The traveller turned back, with newfound curiosity in her posture. "Bandits?"
"Worse. Youkai." He lowered his voice without meaning to. "It wasn't so bad here before as long as you got home before dark, but lately... there's a new evil spirit who haunts the woods here. It lashes out from there to attack anyone who travels alone, and it's only through blind luck that no-one has died to it yet. In fact, our shrine maiden just left to seek help from the provincial capital to exorcise it."
"Interesting." The traveller observed the woods as though expecting the hideous wraith to pop up from underneath the nearby gingko any moment now.
"It usually prowls in the night, but even daylight doesn't thwart it." The farmer shook his head. "In fact, we were just about to quit for the day and hasten home before it has the opportunity to surprise us."
The traveller laughed. It was a kindly sound, one of good humour rather than mockery. Even so, the farmer's skin rose to goose bumps.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about me." Her hand ghosted over her headscarf. A lock of hair the colour of bright roses escaped from its binding and fell upon her forehead.
The farmer shuddered as the conversation took a fresh meaning.
The youkai's smile widened, as though she relished his apprehension. The setting sun reflected crimson off her eyes. "Thanks anyway. I'll be on my way."
Soon, only the dust clouds above the road suggested the youkai had ever been there.
Long after the farmer had already plunged his hands back into the paddy, trying not to think of anything but work, his friend stood on the side of the field and stared where the youkai had vanished. "Wonder what she wants from here?"
"I don't care." The farmer tugged at the weeds in his hand so violently they left abrasions on his palm. It hurt less than the guilt gnawing at him. How could he have been so foolish as to give instructions to where his family was to a youkai? Even knowing that keeping his peace would likely have changed nothing, it still felt like handing the creature a blade.
There was a sullen pause before his friend continued. "She seemed friendly enough."
"Would you pet a tiger if it smiled at you? Get back to work."
His friend sighed once more, but did as he was told. The farmer focused on the task at hand, doing all he could to drown out the crowing echoing from the woods, as well as the burning question his friend had voiced and to which he had no answer.
Why would a youkai travel to their far-off village?
Spirits didn't sleep, but the ghost had discovered they could daydream. She had spent the past several hours drifting in pleasant haze, one that nearly distracted her from what had been bothering her for days now.
Namely, that she was bored out of her mind.
Of course, it was to be expected. The poxy woods and the insignificant village she was haunting at present moment were never a land of thrills. The only point of interest was the barrier, a venerable border not far from the village blocking an entrance to what she suspected was an entrance to Makai. As she was yet to find a way to penetrate it, she couldn't actually be sure, but whatever it was, she couldn't bring herself to care.
And that was about it. Apart from some turf wars with the local youkai and the occasional bold human she would scare back towards civilisation, she was mostly left alone — well, apart from the lesser spirits that tended to gather around her and even now filled the dim woods with their ethereal glow, but those rated somewhere between fireflies and woodlice as far as company went — left quite alone to hover, and ponder, and try to understand what it was about this place that kept drawing her back to it. It certainly wasn't the atmosphere. Or the rain.
At least there would be no rain that night. She let her feet dissolve as she rose towards the darkening sky, already anticipating the first star. It was a sad state of affairs that witnessing a full moon had become the highlight of her month, but she told herself it was just a phase. Whatever was making it so difficult for her to hold onto all those fluid details about goals and plans would go away in time, and then all would make sense again. Till then, it was about killing time.
Still, the muddled uncertainty had become overwhelming. Her eyes drifted towards where the ancient shrine loomed hidden behind the trees, and she received a jolt of attentiveness as thanks. Yes, this place was important. But why?
"Do you mind more company?"
The ghost swivelled her head. A tall stranger stood behind at the edge of the clearing, her features obscured by a long scarf. As the ghost squinted at her, the stranger pulled the scarf backwards, revealing a sleepy smile and crimson eyes, and hair that looked like it had been dyed with blood and then bleached out again.
"Not a human, I take it?" the ghost said, making no effort to descend from her invisible perch.
The stranger chuckled. "Can't say I've ever been accused of being one. Is that a problem?"
The ghost shrugged. She didn't feel like starting a fight, but she was sure that when she made the gesture, the stranger caught the glint of the knife in her hand. "Make yourself at home. Just remember whose home this actually is."
The stranger did as she was bid, finding a suitable patch of ground and sitting down on it cross-legged. As soon as she had settled down, she stretched her arms and sighed contentedly.
"Sure feels good to sit down for a change." She gave her upper body one last shake. She looked at the hovering spirits for a while, then turned her attention towards the ghost. "So, you live here?"
"For now." The ghost didn't really know what to think of the stranger. When was the last time someone had casually sauntered over to her just to exchange banalities? Never, she supposed. Surely there was something else at play. "You're not too shy, are you?"
The stranger laughed. "Can't say I am. Think that's why humans always seem to know me for what I am?"
"I couldn't say. I have little idea of how they think, and care even less." The ghost took a moment to feign indifference by observing her reflection from the knife. The green eyes and pale eyes distorted by the shape of the metal were familiar enough, but even now, she could hardly fathom it was herself she was seeing. But what did she expect to see? It was a strange feeling, like reaching out to take something only to remember your hand is still ethereal from your previous spell. "Nor do I have many opportunities to study. Few humans are foolish enough to venture here."
"Especially if the rumours I heard are true." The stranger smiled as she continued, observing the ghost keenly. "There were murmurs about a terrifying evil spirit half a day's travel away."
The ghost did her best to keep her smirk from spreading across her entire face. "I suppose that's humans for you. Brandish a knife at one and have all the rest flee from you in terror. I'm sure you know that from experience."
The stranger chuckled. "You know it." She observed the surrounding trees in silence for quite a while before continuing. "Do you think they're less scared of us than before? Of youkai in general, I mean."
"I have noticed no such thing," the ghost replied at once, trying not to think of why her frame of reference for the question felt so thin. Still, she was confident in her reply. "In my experience humans are terrified of everything."
"Well, that's true." The stranger tilted her head. "But really, why are we talking about scaring humans when there are none around?"
"Good point. Let's discuss something more interesting. Like specks of sand. Or mildew."
The stranger smiled again. "So, what brings you to this place? Did you die here?"
"I doubt it." She had considered the possibility, of course. It would explain why she was so drawn to the village. But surely, if this was where she was born, her arrival ought to have rekindled some memories.
She realised, quite abruptly, that the stranger was once again giving her a strangely observant look. She quickly changed tacks. "As a matter of fact, I'm here to look at the stars."
"Stars?" The stranger looked up at the clear night sky. The first of the stars had emerged from their behind their veils. "Oh. I see what you mean."
"They're brighter here than anywhere else in the region," the ghost explained, glad to find herself on a solid foundation for once. She returned to the ground to better point out awakening constellations. "The fabric of reality is thinner here, and so they shine more brightly. If you look to the south, you can already see the drum."
The stranger peered at the barely visible Orion with a look of intense concentration, then nodded. For a while, silence was allowed to reign, wrapping them in its comforting familiarity. The ghost almost begun to enjoy herself, basking there in the moonlight.
And then, the stranger had to go and speak again. "You must have loved the stars when you were alive."
"I suppose so." The ghost paused, ignoring the stranger in favour of the stars. "I like them now. That's all that matters."
"Sorry. I suppose you don't like talking about your past."
"I don't care about it one way or the other," the ghost said airily, hoping the stranger would get the hint.
"That makes sense." The stranger stood up, then. The ghost had always been tall, but even hovering above the ground as she did, the stranger's eyes were on level with hers. "After all, you probably don't remember any of it."
The ghost shot her a dirty look. Her sixth sense, which had been whispering to her since the stranger's sudden appearance, now ceased its subtle hinting and plainly told her it was time to leave.
The ghost held her ground.
The stranger chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes." Slowly, she removed the hand scythes strapped to her back. "I don't really like doing this after getting to talk to you, but it happens to the best of us. Maybe we can pick this up again later."
The ghost squared her shoulders. "Who the hell are you?"
The stranger laughed again. It was a bright, appealing laugh. The ghost didn't much care for it. "Hell's right, my friend. Hell's right."
There was a flash of light, like a sudden bolt of lightning. In the next moment, the was only one scythe, taller even than the stranger, its blade so sharp it was almost transparent. The stranger brandished it with ease with one hand alone as she untied the shawl around her shoulders and tossed it aside.
She adopted a comfortable pose. "I'm Komachi Onozuka, first-class reaper working as an auxiliary to the kishin department." She winked at the ghost. "Nice to meetcha."
"Hmph." The ghost brandished her own blade, forcing herself to relax till the act became reality. A god of death holding her at scythe-point? An hour later it would simply be another anecdote to tell her associates. At least, she imagined it would have to be. What did a shinigami want with her? "Why introduce yourself so late? What are you trying to hide?"
Komachi looked sheepish. "I wasn't hiding anything, really. If you'd attacked me outright, I'd already be on my way home after a job well done. But since you're so far gone..." She rolled her shoulders. "I thought I might take things at my own pace for a change."
"And does any of this have to do with me?" Even then, the ghost did have some inkling about what it all about, but the concept was so faint it might have just been another shadow. She was quite sure she had never met Komachi before, but something about her words rang a distant bell.
"We can't really let people run around Earth like they belong there, you know? Too much hassle for everything. Especially when the ghost has proven violent." She made a few practice swings with her scythe to demonstrate her point. The air made an audible sound when sliced by the blade. "We don't have to fight, really. You can come quietly, too. It's much nicer than the alternatives."
"Right. First of all, I have no idea what you're talking about. Second..." Without hesitation, the ghost pointed the knife at Komachi. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Even now, Komachi smiled. "I knew you would say that." She raised her scythe, then held it in place. "I know it's unpleasant, but Hell frees you from your karma and lets you try again later. It's the same for everyone."
"I'm sure I've already paid for my sins."
Komachi sighed. "I don't have the scrolls with your details on them with me. I'm not supposed to show them to the dead, anyway. But I did glance at them, and another glance at you makes it obvious. You still carry plenty of karma on your shoulders."
"I don't believe a word of it."
"Really? Let's see..."
They began circling one another, casually, almost like initiating a slow-moving dance. Komachi held her scythe with ease, like it was a prop rather than a deadly weapon. The ghost followed in suit while the gathered spirits hovered nearer, observing the movements in mute indifference. If worst came to worst, she had her spells to fall back on.
"Where to begin..." Komachi's brow furrowed. Perhaps she really didn't remember all the details. "Before you died, you claimed the lives of five people."
The ghost didn't miss a single step.
"You managed to linger on earth afterwards, and had apparently gotten the taste for blood. You killed another human, entirely unrelated to the manner of your death, and painted the forest floor with his guts." Komachi's grin gained a macabre edge. "Might have happened on this very spot for all I know."
By then, they had traded places from where they had begun. They continued dancing.
"After that... You couldn't gain access to your direct target, so you went for an indirect one. You took him and drove spikes through his eyes, then finally killed him. You left what was left of him hanging upside down from a rooftop."
Another revolution.
"And after that... you kept picking off villagers one by one... all villagers from the same small village, naturally. "Men, women, children... if there was a pattern, my boss couldn't see it. He said you were indiscriminate."
Yet another exchange of places.
"By then, the villagers had had enough and pooled together what little wealth they had to summon an exorcist. It took him six weeks to arrive. Then you killed him, too."
Their circle had contracted, but neither ghost nor shinigami moved to take the first strike.
"Finally, an exorcist appeared you couldn't just destroy. She succeeded in uncovering your identity and removing you from the human plane. You finally arrived before us to receive your judgement. And you were indeed judged."
They paused simultaneously. The air crackled with a chill that didn't belong to the season.
"And now, you're here." With languid movements, Komachi adopted a posture more suitable for battling. "Did that jog your memories?"
The ghost didn't bother to respond. She wished she could have smirked and told Komachi she had told her nothing she didn't already, but the fact it all sounded so wholly unfamiliar troubled her even more than the strangeness of her reflection did. Maybe it was nothing but a pack of lies. Who would forget being judged for their sins? And if that had happened, why was she here and not in the Netherworld?
"I doubted it would." Something about Komachi had changed. She was still smiling, but the expression lacked its previous warmth. "You have two options. Either you come with me to face the music, or..."
She needn't continue. The ghost didn't have to have personal experience of it to recognise the threat of being extinguished.
"Right. So you say." The ghost's veins, bereft of blood, now surged with magic that made her skin crackle. "My question is, do you have the strength to back up your words?"
Komachi grinned, cheery again. "Honestly?"
All of a sudden, she let her stance drop. Holding the scythe to her side, she shrugged. "Honestly, I think I do. But I don't care to test it if I don't have to."
The ghost was so jarred by this that she nearly fell to the ground. She caught herself just in time. "Huh?"
"Fighting's all well and good, but I've been tracking you down for ages, and I'm tired." To punctuate her words, Komachi yawned. "Feels like a waste of time, with you as far gone as you are and all. If it had taken me even a few weeks longer, there wouldn't have been anything to take back in the first place."
A rare emotion crept to the forefront of the ghost's mind. Trepidation. She sneered twice as intensely. "I see what you're doing. You're trying to frighten me into compliance."
"I'm telling you the truth, sister. Basically, either you'll come with me and eventually reincarnate properly, or," finally, Komachi's smile dropped, if only slightly, "you'll stay here as your mind rots into mush. You know, like these guys."
She pointed to one of the lesser spirits. This one more a more distinctly ghostly shape than most. It even had face, a vacuous one with its tongue hanging out. As Komachi and the ghost observed it, it began to to slowly spin in the air, its beady eyes unseeing.
The ghost slowly turned to face Komachi. "You lie."
"Nope. All these spirits," she gestured at the glowing cavalcade with her spare hand, "were once proper ghosts. They lingered around for too long, forgetting their past, their goals, and finally that they had ever lived. Once that happens, you're beyond salvation. See this?"
She leaned ahead and poked the lolling spirit. It kept floating as though nothing had happened.
A sudden chill took hold of the ghost. Komachi was lying, of course. It couldn't possibly be true.
But... what if?
"Well, you've been around them enough to know what they're like," Komachi continued. "No memories, no goals, nothing but vacant space and tiny vestiges of humanity. I'm not sure they're even aware of themselves." She looked straight at the ghost again, her eyes shining. "The same happens to nearly all ghosts that exist outside Higan and the Netherworld, and given how far your memory loss has advanced, you're down the same path and fast. A couple of months, tops, and your mind will be irrecoverably gone."
The ghost noticed she had been fidgeting with her knife. She stopped. "Do you honestly think you can trick me with mere words? I won't believe you till you prove it."
"I can do that. Five minutes ago, I told you what you did just before your death. Can you repeat what I said?"
The ghost rolled her eyes, but as she opened her mouth, the annoyance gave way to confusion. She fell silent and still, her grip around her knife slackening.
"See? You're so faded the knowledge slides right out of your mind again. Without your name, you have no hope of recovering your past, and there isn't a single soul in all eighteen levels of Hell who can tell what it was." Komachi shrugged. "Then again, at this point you probably couldn't retain it even if the enma who judged you came here and told you your name in person."
The ghost hesitated. Even now, she didn't want to believe it, but there was something brutally honest about Komachi's manner that fuelled her fears. She looked at the floating spirits with fresh eyes.
Eventually, she broke the silence. Just because she had forgotten what Komachi had said about her past didn't mean she had forgotten everything she had said. "..You said that almost all ghosts in the human realm transform into... these." She cast a sideways glance at the mindless ghosts. Komachi nodded. "In other words, it doesn't happen to all of us. What's their secret?"
Komachi chuckled again. It was a far cry from her earlier laugh. "I'm supposed to coax you to come back, not assist you to escape. Besides, I don't actually know why it happens. Just that it happens once in a blue moon. It's almost certainly too late for you, anyway. So..."
She extended her arm. "Come with me. You're close to reincarnation. You don't have to worry about your mind turning to rot once you've earned a new life. You just might be a human again."
The ghost's fist clenched around the knife's handle. She met Komachi's eyes head-on. "No. I will rather lose myself for good than become one of them. I will stay here."
She braced herself for a battle, long delayed. Only, it appeared to have been delayed even further: Komachi leaned heavily against her scythe.
"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."
"What?" The ghost blinked at Komachi. The shinigami sure had a way of surprising her. "What about your duty?"
"Are you saying you want to fight? We can for a bit, if you want, but I'm really not feeling it. Or this job." Komachi sighed. "My boss never stops complaining about how I wander around too much and never reach my quota. If I let you go, I'll definitely get demoted."
The ghost stared at her. "Then... why are you doing this?"
Komachi laughed. It was the genuine laugh again. The ghost discovered she had almost missed it. "I could use the change. Lucky you, huh?" She grinned. "Now go before I change my mind and haul you back."
The ghost didn't budge an inch. Surely, this had to be a trick. "Let me get this straight. You'll leave me in peace and lose your job?"
"They'll probably make me a river guide or something, yeah. I've actually wanted to try that for some time now." Komachi tilted her head. "Might try to get moved to work under a different enma while I'm at it. My current boss doesn't give a toss about anything other than being the most efficient enma of all. You'd never believe he was once a jizou. I'd rather work under someone who actually cares. And maybe doesn't mind me working at my own pace."
The ghost was about to say she couldn't imagine many enma who were any different, but she kept it to herself. Who cared as long as it got Komachi off her back? Her mind was already whirling, considering her options.
"So, yeah. You're free to go." Komachi raised her scythe so that the ghost had an unobstructed view of it. "Only, abuse your remaining time and I'll come back and cut you into ribbons faster than you can say Avici."
"Big words from someone about to be sacked."
"Demoted, not sacked." Komachi appeared to consider something. "And even if he doesn't demote me, I'm going to apply for a transfer anyway. It's time for a change, I think."
The ghost said nothing. She had been thinking about it all this time, obviously, but only now did it truly sink in. If Komachi truly meant to let her go, it meant she really didn't have much time left. And that meant...
"No need to look so glum," Komachi said, shaking the ghost from her thoughts. Her bright smile had returned, with just a hint of an edge. "You can still come with me if you want."
The ghost contemplated Komachi for a moment. She shook her head.
"Thought as much." And with that, Komachi turned to leave. She glanced back at the ghost over her shoulder. "I don't know how long you've got, so make the most of it, okay?"
The sound of her footsteps was soon swallowed by the undergrowth. The ghost remained on the ground, taking in the moonlight.
Yuuka didn't so much as glance at the ghost. "Your name?"
"Yes, my name." The ghost hovered impatiently next to Yuuka. "Can you tell me what my name is?"
There was a long pause as Yuuka ignored the question in favour of tending to the sunflowers. There was a serene, meditative quality to her tender handling of the plants. Had the ghost had blood, it would have made it boil.
Finally, with the sunflower blossom still cupped between her hands, Yuuka faced the ghost. "I'm afraid I cannot. You never told me what it is."
The ghost's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."
They descended back to the ground. The soles of Yuuka's geta hit the dirt, while the ghost's long tail remained some inches from the ground. Around them Mugenkan, Yuuka's personal dream dimension, burgeoned with all the hues of the plant world. The realm was filled with the most beautiful flowers from every corner of the world, always in magnificent bloom regardless of the weather in the outside world. The only flower-free spots were the large mansion Yuuka slept in — for fun, according to Yuuka herself — and the countless narrow paths sprawling all over the place. Yuuka took one of those paths now, admiring the flowers as she walked. The ghost floated after her.
"I must have you told you what it was," the ghost insisted.
"I'm certain you did not." Yuuka paused and pulled back the long sleeves of her elaborate robes and stroked a light pink rose blossom with her fingers. "Even if you did, it has been centuries. It cannot have been a very memorable name if you cannot remember it yourself." She narrowed her eyes. "In fact, I'm not certain you're the person I think you are. Are you the spirit who came over here with an army of lesser ghosts and thought haunting my flowers was a good way to pass the time?"
The ghost folded her arms and tried to remember. "That sounds possible," she admitted, "and I definitely remember you."
This awarded her an amused smirk from Yuuka. "You remember me in spite of not remembering your own name?"
"It happens." As she said so, the ghost fell into a dark funk. Yuuka was the most long-standing of her acquaintances, and thus her best hope for reclaiming her name. If she didn't know it either, then... "I probably won't remember you for much longer, either."
Yuuka gave her a level look, then sauntered over to a nearby well and filled the pail next to it to its brim with cool water. It wasn't the first time the ghost found herself wondering why the flowers of Mugenkan required water and trimming. She supposed tending to the perfect garden was a part of Yuuka's dream, but why not simply use her powers to do so? "Why is that?"
The ghost shrugged. She might as well tell the truth. "I was told that I'm about to lose my identity. Re-learning my name could help me keep it."
There was silence again as Yuuka watered the roses. "What do you remember?"
"My purpose," said the ghost at once. "Humans. I must exact my revenge upon humans."
"Ah, humans." Yuuka licked her lips as she put the pail down. "They're fun to bully, but they wither away so easily. Nowadays, I much prefer to target youkai and fairies. I can recommend the same to you. It's so much more... satisfying."
"No, it has to be humans. There is a reason..."
"Yes?"
The ghost opened her mouth, but no answer came. There was a reason, she knew. Or at least there had been one.
Yuuka waited much longer than the ghost would have liked before shrugging and continuing down the path. "It sounds like you are lost indeed, my dear ghost."
The ghost followed again, trying not to give in to the gnawing feeling inside her. "That's just the thing. If I can't remember my name, I can't remember my reasons. And if I can't remember my reason, I can't remember why I'm here. And if I can't remember my purpose for being here..." She didn't elaborate. No doubt someone as ancient as Yuuka already knew. "Are you absolutely certain you can't remember my name?"
"I'm afraid so."
The ghost sighed. Annihilation had just inched that much closer. "Then I need a new lead."
"Hmm..." Yuuka brushed her fingers through her long green curls. If the ghost squinted, she could pretend they were vines. "So, you have lost your identity? I wonder..."
"You saying that it isn't true?"
"No, that is not what I am saying. Only that..." She turned to give the ghost a beatific smile. "If you simply require an identity, it hardly has to be your old one."
The ghost stared as Yuuka continued, giggling. "I know this must sound strange coming from a youkai, but under these circumstances, I believe you can change who you are. At this point, you cannot be risking much."
As slowly as Yuuka glided down the path, a significant gap had formed between them by the time she turned to look at the ghost again. "That is what I would do in your place. Keep what little you remember and change the rest." Her smile blossomed. "Never forget you're no longer human. You're free."
It was well into the witching hour, under the canopy of stars, when the ghost finally made up her mind. She unfurled herself against the sky and gazed at the world beneath her.
Could it really be that easy to laugh in the face of oblivion? Simply keep what she still had and change the rest?
Why not? It was worth a try.
What did she remember? Not much. The past few months, perhaps, preceded by mere fragments and impressions. They would have to do.
She remembered the need for vengeance. She remembered wrath. She remembered a pair of bright blue eyes...
And she remembered her magic.
"Never forget you're no longer human. You're free."
The ghost smirked.
Now, all she needed was a name...
What had risen to the sky that night was a nameless ghost.
What took flight towards the waning moon was something quite different altogether.