There was a brief sound, much like a sudden breeze, as Seiga emerged into the mausoleum. She floated still for a moment, then approached Miko's casket.
Tojiko was lying on her back on the floor in front of her former husband's grave, eyes half open and lips slightly parted. She made no reaction as Seiga crouched down next to her and lightly touched her forehead.
Seiga clicked her tongue. "Such a shame."
She took hold of Tojiko's shoulders, and effortlessly raised her to sit upright with her back propped against the stone casket. The ghost didn't as much as blink her eyes at this treatment. She might as well have been a human-sized puppet.
Seiga crouched down opposite of Tojiko and tilted her head, pondering. She didn't form real bonds but with a chosen few, and definitely not with lost causes like Tojiko, but the girl had been amusing in her stubbornness. Seeing her in such a pitiable state gave Seiga little pleasure.
She leaned forward and gently brushed Tojiko's tousled hair off her face. "Poor child." She smiled faintly to herself. "You were so beautiful, too."
Just as she was done and retracted her hand, Tojiko's eyes flashed open.
Seiga stared as the ghost blinked several times, then gave Seiga a groggy, unfocused look.
"Seiga?" The voice was weak and hesitant, but unmistakably Tojiko's voice.
For the first time in several centuries, Seiga was at a momentary loss for words. "It is I, yes." She peered deep into the ghost's eyes. The pupils were clouded, but still retained most of their lustre. In other words, she was not yet lost.
Tojiko kept blinking and squinting, her brow furrowed into a deep frown. She feebly raised her hand towards her head, then let it drop. "It hurts."
"I would assume so." There was nothing Seiga could do even assuming she wanted to, so she sat down more comfortably instead. "It's a miracle you're even capable of speech after all this time."
For some reason, Tojiko smirked at that, though only weakly. "It's no miracle."
Seiga curled her hand against her cheek. "I look forward to hearing how you managed this, then. After you have stopped slurring, that is."
Tojiko chuckled and closed her eyes.
When Tojiko next opened her eyes, blinking to dispel to fog clinging to them, Seiga was still there.
The hermit probably wasn't a hallucination, then.
She attempted to sit up properly, but her body betrayed her: it moved sluggishly, like under water.
"This might take a while." Back when she had been alive, the mere thought of Seiga seeing her in such a vulnerable state would have been enough for her to break into a cold sweat. Right then, it was almost funny. Either way, there was nothing Tojiko could do about it.
"Time is not a concern to either of us, my friend." Seiga's eyes shone with a strange light Tojiko didn't recall seeing before, her expression unreadable.
"True." Tojiko flexed her fingers until they slowly began to obey her. Her hands and arms followed, and soon she had enough control to smooth out the hem of her dress where it had bunched up.
Seiga followed Tojiko's actions mutely, her eternal smile plastered on her face. "If you are feeling more like yourself, perhaps you might divulge me a little secret?"
"Depends on what it is."
"How, exactly, are you still among us? I was speaking the truth when we last met: your mind should be long gone. Out in the world it would be a different matter entirely, but alone here, with no way to escape, not even to sleep..."
Seiga's eyes widened. Slowly, her corners of her lips rose into a cat-like grin. "So, that's what you did."
Tojiko grinned back. "Yes, I re-learned how to meditate." She leaned against the casket and with a grunt, pulled herself upright. "I was quite good at it as a child, you know. A little too good for my own health, actually, but with no bodily needs there are no longer any downsides."
"So, you found a way to escape all by yourself? Clever girl." Seiga shook her head lightly, a genuine-looking smile on her face. "Taking advantage of Buddhism, of all things...I will admit, I am a little surprised."
Tojiko shrugged. "If I can't get over myself and use Buddhism as a tool like any other, I'm weakening myself for no real reason."
"A pragmatic viewpoint, that." Seiga tapped her cheek with her finger. "Not quite as pragmatic as it would have been to leave with me when I first offered to take you, however." She placed the finger on her lips. "Who knows? I might even have crafted a new body for you."
Tojiko paused, opening her mouth to ask if Seiga could actually do that. After another moment of thought, she shrugged. "No point in dwelling on that. Besides, I'm happy the way I am."
"Oh?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Tojiko smiled. "I never have to worry about sleep or hunger again. I can fly. I can call thunder down at my behest." She sat down on the edge of the casket and lay her eyes on Miko for the first time in what felt like centuries. "I'm sure being a shikaisen has its perks, but in a way, this too is eternal life. As long as I stay be her side, it's all the same to me."
Seiga gave her an odd look. It took Tojiko a long while to realise rather than annoyed, it might have been impressed.
"Interesting..." Seiga sat down on the other side of the casket and looked her straight in the eye. The usual coyness was gone from her voice, and her glance lacked the teasing quality Tojiko had come to expect from all interactions with Seiga. "As it happens, I am not quite as surprised to find you still sane as you might expect. It has always been clear you possess unusual strength of spirit. I see now what a pity it was you wouldn't hear my counsel when alive, but perhaps it is not too late."
Tojiko raised her eyebrow. "What are you aiming at?"
Seiga chuckled and waved her hand. "And sharp-witted, too. Very well. I have an offer to make." Her gaze turned piercing. "Become my disciple."
"What?" Tojiko hadn't known what to expect, but this was about the last thing she would have guessed.
"I am not asking you to join me as a common servant, obviously. I have plenty of those. I need someone with brains, someone capable of following orders more complex than what can be written on a single piece of paper." She chuckled again. This time, Tojiko could tell it was a false laugh. "I can teach you things beyond your wildest dreams, for the simple price of unquestioning obedience. Becoming a hermit is beyond the reach of a ghost, but oh, there is so much more..."
"I refuse." The words escaped Tojiko before she could fully think about them, but even after realising what she had said, she didn't regret it.
Seiga sighed and theatrically leaned to the right. "I am not surprised. Because of Lady Toyosatomimi, is it?"
"Yes." Wanting to stay by Miko's side wasn't the only reason, but it would do.
Seiga gave Tojiko another odd look, one that Tojiko wasn't able to decipher. "A pity, that. But so it shall be." She inclined her head ever so slightly. "You are a rare specimen, Soga no Tojiko, and knowing Lady Toyosatomimi, she didn't tell you that nearly as often as she ought to have."
There were only two people in the world Tojiko had ever accepted praise from without suspicion. Seiga wasn't one of them, but there and then, Tojiko felt a strange fluttering feeling in her stomach. Perhaps she hadn't simply imagined the impressed look in Seiga's eyes.
"You always had a way with words," she replied, trying to keep her sarcasm to a minimum. "Still, I'm staying here."
Seiga smiled sweetly. "Naturally. Not for long, however."
"What?"
"The time of Prince Shoutoku's resurrection approaches. Surely you will leave the mausoleum with her, no?"
Tojiko realised her mouth was hanging open and hurried to close it. "When?"
"Oh, a hundred years from now. That is nothing to us, after all." Seiga winked.
Tojiko gave Seiga a long look as emotion swelled within her chest. It was strange; the usual irritation she had come to associate with the mere sight of the wicked hermit was nowhere to be found. Really, all her hatred seemed to have evaporated for an instant.
Soon, Miko would walk on Earth again. All would be right.
No doubt, the downsides of Miko's resurrection would catch up with her soon, but for now, she found herself able to sincerely respond to Seiga's smile. The pressure attempting to collapse her mind from within was still there, and would probably never go away until she saw sunlight again, but it was fine. A hundred years...she could survive a hundred years standing on her if she had to. She would endure.
At length, she realised Seiga had left. She couldn't bring herself to care. All that mattered was the spring that had awoken within her.