Tojiko sat down cross-legged and took a deep breath. It had been a challenge to arrange her legs properly at first, but with time had become second nature.
"Good. Empty your mind completely."
At her father's behest, Tojiko closed her eyes and let her head drop against her chest. She had never understood why her older siblings thought it so difficult: it was simplicity to shut her thoughts away with the rest of the world, embracing the peaceful void within.
She didn't come to until her father was violently shaking her. She blinked in surprise.
Her father's face was obscured by a strange fog, but the emotion came thick from the voice alone. "You have been in a trance for days, my pearl."
"Oh." With that, she felt the strength that had allowed her to sit upright sap away, and she collapsed on the floor.
Two days after she was well again, her father invited her to visit his rooms.
She bowed deeply by the door, then shuffled in, head held low.
Her father sat at the centre of the small room, holding a thick scroll. Tojiko couldn't see his eyes, only the wrinkles around his mouth that made her father look frightfully old, much older than his years.
"Your brother told me you had a spat with Lady Meiko again," Her father's voice was quiet, with only a hint of rebuke.
Tojiko tried to lower her gaze even further. "I'm sorry, Father."
Her father sighed. "What is done is done." He turned to face Tojiko and smiled faintly. "Week after week, I hear stories of your headstrong behaviour. Refusing to practice on the loom, staring people in the eye, talking back to your elders." He shook his head. "You are always at excellent behaviour when I see you, my pearl, but with so many eye-witness reports I can't but believe them."
Tojiko said nothing.
"Regardless, I didn't call you here for that. We need to discuss your future."
"As you say, Father," Tojiko nodded, keeping her eyes down. She didn't care what anyone else thought of her, but should her father, the one person who always smiled at her and taught her everything she wished to know, even when it wasn't particularly suitable for women, lose his faith in her...
Her father opened the scroll on his lap and held it up. "It is time you move to your fiance's household. All necessary arrangements have been made. You may leave as soon as tomorrow."
Tojiko suppressed a sigh. She had known this day would come sooner than later. "As you say, Father."
Her father's expression softened. "My precious Tojiko." He beckoned with his hand, and she shuffled forward to receive his embrace. "Of all my children, you...much like your mother, you really are a pearl. However, once you are married, you absolutely must keep your temper in check."
Tojiko nodded. "I will do my best, Father."
Her father smiled. "I know you will, Tojiko. You will grow into a beautiful woman and make a wonderful wife." He stroked her long, loose hair. "You will be happy in the union, too. He is a most formidable man, Prince Shoutoku. Only..." for a mere instant, Tojiko caught glimpse of her father's eyes, flashing with strange emotion. "For the time being, the Crown Prince seems keen on promoting our creed. Should things change...promise you will keep your faith."
Tojiko felt like laughing, and only kept a straight face through concerted effort. "I promise."
Tojiko opened her eyes to discover herself lying flat on the mausoleum's floor.
She could trust nothing, but there seemed to be no harm embracing the memory. It was like a comforting blanket in the tiny prison she was was confined in.
"You are too young to marry."
Words her father hadn't said, but perhaps should have.
"Keep your faith."
Tojiko held her hand upwards and summoned sparks of electricity with a mere thought. Not that she cared much for Shintoism either, but with her strange new powers she wondered if the Mononobe clan had had the right idea from the start.
"You will be happy."
Tojiko laughed, but when it echoed from the walls it sounded more like a sob.
Tojiko sat on the floor next to Miko's coffin. She hadn't bothered to move much lately. It only hindered her access to her memories, jeopardised enough as it was.
She could no longer tell day from week, or month from year. The endless hours spent in these dark chambers had long since melted together. Still, she kept trying to remember more, fighting with memories so brittle they crumbled into pieces if Tojiko tried to examine them with more detail.
"My. This is unexpected."
Tojiko woke up from her reveries with a jolt, hands bristling with lightning she had instinctively channelled. She recognised the voice, but even if she hadn't, only one person could have breached into the crypt.
Seiga was floating just above the ground, the translucent folds of her gown billowing serenely around her as she slowly advanced towards the back end of the mausoleum. She paused and smiled her ineffable smile, her eyes firmly on Tojiko.
"Oh, spare me." Tojiko met Seiga's gaze and glared venom at her. "You didn't expect me to linger on, did you? You tampered with my jar, and thought I'd move on after dying?" She grinned, a completely humourless smile with more than its share of teeth. "Sorry to ruin your plans, but I'm going nowhere."
Seiga's expression remained unchanged. "You always did believe the very worst of me." She let out an airy little laugh. "I hate to disappoint you, my dear, but I'm genuinely surprised. I haven't the slightest why the ritual failed for you but not the others. " She winked. "Mind you, hermits don't usually admit to their ignorance. Consider this confession a privilege."
"You expect me to believe that?" If possible, Tojiko's felt even more of an urge to smack her.
"Do or do not, it is all the same to me." Seiga examined her immaculate fingernails. "On the other hand, it seems you have little option but to trust me."
"I trust you as much as a frog trusts a crane," Tojiko snapped. Seiga merely chuckled in response, but Tojiko had seen the way her lips pursed and her eyes flashed. Not that it mattered. Even at the best of times, apologising to Seiga had been a chore, but now, after death had smoothed out all of her trained refinement and education and left behind nothing but her very core, honed until nothing but bluntness remains, it was as possible as swallowing the sun.
Seiga chuckled. "It's almost like old times, is it not?" She leaned in closer. "Riddle me this; if I had tampered with your temporary body, what would I gain from lying about it to you now?"
Tojiko recoiled, then creased her forehead and pondered. "I would tell Miko when she wakes up, and that might finally be enough to snap her out of your influence for good. Or maybe you want to try and win my trust once again, for whatever sick plans you have. Maybe you want to let my guard down so you can finish the job and exterminate me." She snapped her fingers to summon a small bolt of lightning, but made no effort to attack: as much as she wished she could kill Seiga right there and then, she had seen some of Seiga's almost deity-like abilities in the past. No doubt she could still destroy Tojiko while barely lifting a finger, lightning powers or no lightning powers.
"Fair enough." The thin fabric wrapped around Seiga rustled as she shrugged. "My words may be mud to you, but I'll say this regardless. I did not kill you, Soga no Tojiko."
Tojiko grunted. At least she could now be sure she had remembered her name right.
Or at least, that it was the name Seiga wanted her to remember.
She let it slide. It was an identity, and it would serve. She couldn't allow herself to be paralysed by uncertainty. She would be Soga no Tojiko.
"Fine, then." She wasn't stupid enough to believe Seiga, but this line of discussion was getting her nowhere. "Why are you here?"
"I came to see if all was well." Seiga glanced at Tojiko's translucent tails. "A lucky whim, I see."
"Lucky," Tojiko repeated with all the spite she could muster.
"Lucky," Seiga repeated, her smile unwavering. "To you, I should note. I know, I know," she quickly said when Tojiko opened, "you want nothing to do with me. Let's move past that, shall we? I'm your only hope, after all."
Tojiko considered this. If nothing else, she should hear Seiga out. Granted, she couldn't trust her in any way, but perhaps she could discern some truths beneath her lies. "So, why am I a ghost?"
"Only you can answer that, my dear." Before Tojiko had time to tell her previous decision to screw itself and tell Seiga exactly where she could cram her smirks and cryptic replies, the hermit turned away and hovered to Tojiko's casket. "Does anything remain of your temporary body?"
Tojiko shook her head. She had looked through the stony coffin for shards, but only dust remained.
"Quite odd, that," Seiga said with the air of someone who didn't think it was very strange at all. "You ought to have chosen something sturdier as your vessel."
Tojiko kept her expression impassive as Seiga's eyes combed over her face. Like the hermit didn't know the jar Tojiko had chosen had been perfectly suitable.
"Oh, well. What is done is done." Without waiting for a response, Seiga extended her hand towards Tojiko. "Can you pass through solid matter by yourself, or shall I assist you?"
Tojiko blinked. "What?"
"How articulate." Seiga's smile momentarily waned before re-emerging at full force. "The world isn't ready for Prince Shoutoku's return for ages to come. Do you plan to stagnate here among the corpses? You'll be stuck here for centuries, with your mind rotting away until you long for dead you no longer can achieve."
Even though Tojiko could no longer feel cold, she shuddered. "That's not true."
"I have no reason to lie." Seiga nodded at her extended hand. "If you wish, you can stay at my abode, or haunt your past home."
"I am her— I was..." Tojiko quickly glanced towards Miko's casket, then returning Seiga's gaze with steel. "I will not leave her."
"You won't be any use to her if your mind is gone."
"It won't be gone."
Seiga laughed. "So obstinate. It doesn't matter how headstrong you were in life. These conditions will destroy anyone." She leaned in closer. "You may not see it yourself, but your eyes have already changed."
"I'm staying."
"Well, I cannot force you to leave." Seiga's grin widened. "Rather, I can. But I won't. It'll be interesting to see how long you will last, if nothing else."
"I will last as long as is needed." Tojiko summoned all the steel she could into her eyes. "Leave."
"So stubborn." Seiga put her arm halfway through the wall like it was thin air. "I will come back later."
Tojiko was left alone in the darkness.