Welcome Back, Old Friend (2)

It occurred to him that Kozue's changes hadn't ended with her physical appearance. She seemed to refer to this child in the way one would a disciple. Ages ago, scores of martial artists, exorcists, and spiritual warriors clambered for the chance to be recognized as her student. Alas, no matter their connection or ability, she refused them all the same. Why then would she accept a child of the Amanogawa with no spiritual root at all?

"Are we going to start right away, Kozue-sama?" The girl asked, the full brunt of her beaming smile directed upon a vaguely amused Kozue. She seemed less irritable now that the girl's apprehension was reborn into excitement.

Kozue shook her head. "Nay, the evening oldens and you have yet to take your meditation hour before dinner."

The girl huffed, puffing her cheek again with her lips pressed together tightly. Surprisingly, she cast a plaintive glance in his direction as if beckoning him to speak up on her behalf. If she knew what he truly thought of her cultivation, the she would be less eager to consider his opinion. Her eyes fell to her lap with a mighty sigh heaved in her small shoulders.

"Okay," she mumbled, then peered up at Kozue from beneath her eyelashes, "but we can tomorrow?"

"It will have to be after important matters are finished, Yua, but yes."

The girl who resembled a wilting flower a mere second ago came into full bloom at those words and squeezed her fists to her chest. "It's a promise, okay?" She giggled, holding out one hand with her pinky extended.

Kozue returned the gesture with her own, hooking their littlest fingers together. "It's a promise."

The two certainly made quite a pair. If he hadn't known Kozue's preferences, he would have thought them related at a glance. The girl was a particularly small child for her presumed age, her skin a tawny beige warmed by the evening sun curved around the top of her head in a vermillion crown. Her dark hair was unusually messy and bounced as she rocked their hooked pinkies. Long, wavy locks cut in a layered fashion pooled around her barefeet like freshly spilled ink and curled outward at the tips. Her bangs had been swept back from a face still harboring roundness from childhood, thick eyebrows arching happily over a pair of round brown eyes.

The watercolor blue kosode she wore was rather simple, and even the wave motifs on the lilac sash tied around her middle professed little of the Amanogawa's apparent wealth. Had they fallen into destitution during his slumber?

It would have served them right, but… she was a child. A derelict home could never foster well-taken care of offspring, let alone one who was this happy.

Her little giggles filled up the room brighter than the light he'd witnessed in that strange world of Yakushi Tadashi's. It reminded him of those fleeting child-ghosts in their oddly-shapen carriages flying through a corridor without a care in the world. A happiness only the innocent could possess. And in him, some part he was unsure of, felt warmer and light.

"Now, let's finish our lesson."

At last, their hands separated and the girl spun around on her knees to regard him again. She'd almost toppled over in her eagerness but righted herself with a sheepish look in Kozue's direction. Aside from the faintest quirk of her lip, Kozue spared the girl the indignity of scolding by facing him again. He startled at the suddenness of their attention, having grown accustomed to being an onlooker. Humor twinkled in Kozue's eyes at having caught him off guard, and he huffed within his mind at her pettiness.

Weren't mortals meant to become worldly and magnanimous with age?

"Within this blade is an otherworldly being who accompanied me throughout my travels.."

Gradually, a mistiness rolled over her eyes as if she were peering into the far distance. He could imagine what she had been seeing as his own memories of her arose, a time belonging to the rise of yellow dust at her heels from roads unknown, lying beneath a star-filled sky and racing from the jaws of danger. It had been exhilirating.

Her voice softened, "Every battle I faced, he was there at my side offering his support and wisdom. When you find yourself weary of your toils, seek him out."

The warmth dissipated at those words. He considered the little girl who nodded at Kozue's words. Though he held her clan with disdain, she was but a mere child unknowing of the greater world around her. Ignorance should not be punished with apathy, but he had no desire to be a listening ear for her. Silk could hide steel if wrapped tightly enough, yet it would cut all the same in the end. He could provide little for her cultivation, and less for her mental growth.

She would need to weather such challenges in due time —

"There is much he may learn from you as well."

"What?!" He hissed, gawking at Kozue openly. "Baseless flattery aside, do you hear yourself?"

Without pause, the little girl nodded and the gleam in her eyes burned aflame with determination, "I understand, Kozue-sama. Shizukesa-sama."

He rounded on her then, "And you, girl, learn to ask questions!"

Heavens, he was wasting his time. That wide-eyed expectant look she wore told of how fervently she believed in Kozue's words. Such zealous devotion had been passed on to him as well, and what was worse, she couldn't hear him speak. He glowered at Kozue irritably, having no other recourse or person who could witness his displeasure. In return, she met his attention evenly and smiled with self-satisfaction.

"This is ridiculous…"

"Kozue-sama," a voice called from beyond the sliding door behind the girl and Kozue, "I'm here."

"Enter," Kozue called without looking over her shoulder.

The sliding door pushed open with a subtle poff. Mottled dust arose from the door frame and glowed like tufts of dandelion sunlight drifting through the air. On the other side of the doorway, a young girl stood with a hand lingering near the opening while her eyes traversed the room questioningly. He glanced over her interestedly, taken with the vague familiarity in her appearance.

From the top of her head to the gourd hung from a thrice-wrapped sash around her waist was a mane of cloudlike white hair. It was like fire-gold in the subdued evening light streaming through the windows; a headband woven from roots and dark, long curved feathers nestled behind her ears and kept the length of her hair from falling in her eyes. Underneath her eyes was a marking of a thin swirling red whorl, a third bisected her chin. Her eyes scrunched with open tenderness as the girl at Kozue's side cried, "Fuu-chan!", and stumbled over her feet to rush into the newcomer's waiting arms.

The two girls embraced - the newcomer Fuu-chan was likely twelve suns old, and stood at least a head and a half taller than the younger but neither minded the closeness. When they separated, the older girl kept an arm around the shoulders of the younger as she bowed to Kozue.

"I've returned, Kozue-sama, Yua-chan."

Kozue returned the greeting with a nod, "Welcome back, Fuuka."

The long dress she wore was dyed in the dewy blue of the tsuyukusa flower, the garments' glossiness remained vivid in spite of the wrinkles and mended tears from sleeve to hem. White patterns curved along the light fall of her shoulders, and taupe strips of bandages wound around her calves just above the ankle. How did one move so silently on bare feet as she did?

Kozue didn't seem ill at ease but he watched the girl with a wondering eye.

The younger girl beamed up at the older, arms wrapped tightly around her middle. "Are we going to the garden now?"

"I'm afraid not," Fuuka patted the top of the younger girl's head to soothe her, "Nishikiri-sensei is waiting in the meditation hall."

"Eh, already?" The younger whined, and he wondered whether such protests were normal for her. Neither Fuuka nor Kozue seemed perturbed by the girl's defiance, instead bearing similar expressions of exasperated fondness.

Where had he seen such looks before?

"Why don't we visit the garden after?" Fuuka offered, resting her hand on the younger's shoulder, "You can find a lovely flower to give Banri there."

"Hmm... okay…" The young girl turned to look toward Kozue, eyebrows furrowed, "Gr— Kozue-sama, aren't you coming too?"

Kozue shook her head. "Not this time, my lady," she said, turning back to face him with her hands folded and a knowing smile on her lips. "I would like to stay and reminisce for a bit longer."

"What?" the girl began to whine again, "but…"

Fuuka touched her shoulder, and turned her around so they were facing one another. "Yua-chan, I'll come with you. So let's leave Kozue-sama to her mind, okay?"

"Fine," the girl mumbled, and he imagined her chin tucked out of dismay while her eyes lowered to the floor. The look she'd given them over her shoulder was one of begrudging acceptance with a flaking smile, "See you later, Gr— Kozue-sama."

Kozue didn't turn to face her but she nodded all the same. Her eyes had closed as though she'd begun to take up her meditation anew.

"Oh, and Shizukesa-sama!"

He looked up, surprised at the sudden address. The girl waved to him as her companion led her from the room by the hand. A dimpled smile rounded her cheeks as she said in a faux whisper, "Let's talk again."

"I'd rather not.." He grumbled to himself, beginning to avert his gaze once her back had turned.

Hm?

A quick glance from her companion caught his attention. The older girl peered over her shoulder and stared for longer than a breath. Instead of her eyes running over the length of him with curiosity, they seemed to focus on one point. Her head tilted to one side, watching until she'd led the younger girl away and shut the door with a subtle knock.

That girl, what did she see?

Those garments, and her spiritual presence..

He could not hear the girl's soundless footsteps but the soft padding ones of Yua carried down the hall. Once they were far enough that he could no longer discern sound nor spiritual pressure, he turned his attention to Kozue. She seemed to feel the same, as her eyes fluttered open and drifted in his direction patiently.

"What is a member of the Kiryuu doing here, Kozue?" He recalled the whorls on her face and lowered his voice to a mutter. "A high-ranking one at that."

Kozue chuckled, "Exactly as it seemed, being a friend to Yua."

"Your address of her changed again."

"Are you troubled by impropriety?"

Silence lingered between them once more. Once he'd been assured of the girl's lack of insight, his guard had fallen to a degree. But if this was Amanogawa territory then he could not afford to be careless. Who knew the number of eyes watching Kozue's movements even now?

"There is no danger, Shizukesa-sama," Kozue said, stirring him from his thoughts, "Tell me your mind, old friend."

He wanted to trust Kozue's senses as he once had, but all he'd bore witness to thus far not only contradicted what he'd known but completely undid them. He had to be certain.

His energy fanned out in waves swept in concentric ripples around them. He could sense Kozue, and the retreating presence of the girl and Fuuka, but there was no other living being near to them. It was good enough for now, though he set an extra precaution habitually by raising a barrier around the room. Even the quiet skree of crickets in the tall grass outdoors was completely silenced.

Once his preparations were complete, he started gravelly, "Kozue…"

She met his gaze, all traces of amusement vanished.

"Why are we still in Amanogawa territory?" He asked. "I can no longer sense the miasma, nor feel the sickness in the land. Therefore, our duty — your duty — to this land and its people is finished."

While a sword was nothing without its bearer, he knew Kozue was meant for more than battle. If he had been able to wish it - he would have spared her the injustices of fighting for a world that did not care for her personal wishes. She'd grown strong for the sake of being able to attain her desired peace. If she'd remained weak, or a soft-hearted child like the girl she insisted upon raising, then it was likely she'd never live to the age she was now.

So how long had she languished fighting the wars of the Godai in his absence? When would the world allow her to rest?

If Kozue noticed his frustrations, she gave no reaction that he could see. Her eyes shuttered as she watched him, flicking down to her lap at his neck words, "Were you not going to return to Hagukumu? Rebuild your people's home, honor your mother and her sacrifice."

"Yes," Kozue said wistfully, "And I did."

He was taken aback when she turned her eyes onto him again, and the intensity in her gaze simultaneously drew him back in time while keeping him firmly planted in the present.

"Hagukumu thrives and is in trusted hands while I am away," she continued, the corner of her lips curled crookedly. "Were you concerned I'd given up on my ambitions for a life of needless strife, Shizukesa-sama?"

A pause. Shame filled him as he considered her words. In truth, he had been concerned with how clearly she doted on the young girl she'd taken under her wing. While he held no animosity toward the child herself, the Amanogawa were not to be trusted.

In the lull of his response, Kozue continued to muse aloud, "I have carried you with me these long years, hoping to hear your voice again…" She turned her face toward the shoji and stared wistfully into the scant shimmers of light. "I feared I would die before we could speak like this once more."

He knew she did not speak the words to hurt him but it was as if a heavy cloud had settled over his being at those words. The weight of Kozue's life had guided him through many of their trials. To say that he existed beside her would have been an understatement. If he faltered once, or failed to follow the movements she'd bade, it could have been the end of her. Though he was only a weapon of ruin and destruction within her hands, it was through his efforts that her life was preserved.

How long had it been since he'd fallen into slumber, and what if he had not awoken now? Would decades have passed by and taken Kozue with them leaving him to wake in a world without her?

The shower of tinking sounds emanated around him again but he could scarcely care. She turned to him again, eyes narrowed in question but he had no means to explain these feelings to her. Kozue lived by the blade, and she would surely die by it.

But then… what would the world be like without her?

"… Kozue, how long have I..." He trailed off, unable to finish those words with how aggrieved he'd felt.

Taking pity on him, Kozue considered the unspoken question then answered with downcast eyes, "It has been forty years, old friend. Surely, you are not surprised. It is as you said, I have aged and toiled through the years you've slept."

Forty years. He should have been prepared for it. Truthfully, he knew he should have known a significant period of time had passed. The Kozue before him was a maiden no longer, instead bearing the seasons of a wizened lady content in her bearing. How cruel were the heavens that he was not allowed to weather the days by her side. Yet, was this not what he fought for? The chance to let her live in peace, and hopefully fade to obscurity, now that her duty to the world had been done. But she hadn't done that, had she?

She returned to dwell in the land of her once-enemies, and still visited him though he'd been deaf to her trials. He thought back to the words she'd given her disciple, and wondered how often she'd knelt before him and told his unsentient vessel of her woes. That he could not remember a single word she'd uttered, if any, was torturous.

"But why…"

How had he fallen into slumber?

He couldn't recall.

Kozue frowned, shaking her head. "That is what I wished to ask you. Is there anything you remember from the last moment we'd spoken? Or perhaps during your slumber."

He noticed how attentive she appeared and wished he had more to offer her. The dreams had been disconnected, rifts in memory which he could only grasp for a few vivid moments before they were torn away from him, but they carried a constant threa.

"A physician named Yakushi Tadashi," he answered. "In the dreams, I watched over him or rather.. I was him."

"I see.." Kozue murmured, tucking a finger under her chin as she trailed off thoughtfully. "You may not recall, but prior to your slumber, we were summoned by the Zenchi. They attempted to divine our fates, but were unsuccessful. They stated should I remain as your bearer, my future would be unknown."

His entire body stilled. "… And for me?"

"You are a being without past, and the stars would not whisper of your future," Kozue recited blandly, as though she'd parsed over the words thousands of times and they were ingrained within her memory. "The path you cut would be one not even the Choetsu no Me could discern, and to walk with you would alter my own destiny."

"How?" He asked, though the question branched in many ways as he tried to surmise those ill-fated words.

Weary from countless battles fought quelling the miasma, he'd spent more of his time regaining his strength through sleep than aware back then. But But he knew what it meant to be called upon by the Zenchi - a nomadic seer, and the contractor of the oldest of the Three Sacred Regalia a mirror known as the Choetsu no Me. The Zenchi appeared in times of chaos to impart wisdom and warning, and possessed the capability of hearing the whispers of the Heavens while conveying fate  through the mirror. However, the condition for its favor was that its bearer must be able to see with eyes unclouded; and so the price for the Zenchi's foresight was their natural eyes. 

In return, they gained the knowledge of all there would be and all that had been.

It was sensible then that the Zenchi departed from the secular world once the threat to the realm had been resolved. Once the kingdoms recovered from their losses and pains, they would eventually turn to regaining ownership of what could grant them greater power over the other. And what would be better than one whose eyes could transcend not only borders but mortal understanding? 

Yet, to leave Kozue with such an omen, did the Zenchi mean to influence her to abandon him or speak to their own pains as a fellow contractor? If his presence altered Kozue's fate, in what way had it been done? 

Was he truly dangerous to her?

"I do not know," Kozue said, breaking through his spiraling thoughts. She shook her head, and for a moment, she appeared several years younger as she heaved a frustrated sigh. "I was so concerned when you'd fallen silent that I scarcely gave thought to the Zenchi's warnings. When I sought them out, I found they'd been gone from the secular world for nearly an entire moon and left the Choetsu no Me behind. No one has been able to wake it all these years."

He was almost surprised she hadn't took the Zenchi's words into consideration. Almost. Usually, Kozue was headstrong to the point of distraction and preferred to make her own path away from what others deemed right for her. She abhorred superficial righteousness and took up closely with those who showed her their heart rather than spoke it. He had no heart to give her, but she chose to remain with him irregardless. He stared at her wonderingly, feeling as though he was seeing her again for the first time.

Strangely, it all made sense now. "… And that's why the Amanogawa want you. One of the Three Sacred Regalia is dormant, and so long as they have you… they will have me."

How underhanded, and utterly foolish. The attempts to persuade him into the hands of another by demonstrating strength superior to Kozue's had fallen miserably short and if another were to try drawing him - he would lie heavy as stone in their hands. It was only through Kozue that he came alive, and perhaps if she'd disappeared from this world, he would have remained in an eternal sleep like the Choetsu no Me. However, that hardly explained his sudden slumber or the dreams of Yakushi Tadashi.

Had the Zenchi or the Choetsu no Me done something to him while attempting to divine his fate? But why, what did they see?

A wave of laughter gathered his tumultuous thoughts and scattered them to the winds. Kozue shifted slightly in her seating and leaned forward to him with a teasing smile, "Don't be so morose. You always did expect the worse and fretted terribly aside."

"And you hardly think these matters through," he answered dryly.

She continued speaking as if she hadn't heard him, "I'm no captive or fool, Shizukesa-sama. I am here to keep my word to an old friend. And now that you've awakened, my promise can be fulfilled."

"Promise?"

"Yes," Kozue turned her focus unto him again, but this time her gaze was not that of the young woman he was familiar with or the old woman he was gradually finding the boundaries of. It reminded him of those who came to him in supplication, stared at him with awe and a plea as if he were some enshrined god. And with that heaviness in her eyes, she bowed with her palms pressed to the floor and forehead resting against the tatami.

And her voice rung clear, "Shizukesa-sama, once I pass on from this world, I ask you to take Yua as my successor."