Kojiro’s Path of Pride, Trouble, and Tiny Glory

Tengu do not cry.

We do not sulk. We do not pout. We do not stomp our feet like certain oni children I will not name. We stand tall. We master the sky. We maintain poise at all times.

I say this because I absolutely did not stomp away from home this morning. I simply took a brisk, dignified walk into the mountains, with perhaps a little more force than usual.

… Because Grandfather grounded me.

Grounded? A TENGU? Whose entire species is based on not being on the ground.

‘Your wind is unstable,’ Grandfather said gravely. ‘Your ego too large. Your temper too sharp. You cannot train with the clan until you learn restraint.’

Restraint?? ME?? I am the MOST restrained person I know!

Except maybe Youchan. But she does not count. She’s practically an angel. My angel.

I left the house before Grandfather finished lecturing me about the cracked roof tiles (which definitely cracked on their own). With my wings tucked tightly behind me, mask secured on my face, hair blowing dramatically (I made sure it did), I marched through the forest. Until I reached the shrine.

Youchan was sweeping the entrance quietly, her deep black hair catching the afternoon light like delicate spider webs. She noticed me instantly. She always does. Maybe because she adores me? Or maybe because she is my caretaker when Mother and Father are away. Not full-time, of course. Just… secretly. 

Father says it would damage my pride if anyone knew I needed a nanny. So I pretend not to need one. She pretends I’m not her responsibility. It’s a perfect system.

‘Kojiro?’ she said gently, lowering her broom. ‘You’re early. Everything alright?’

I puffed up with dignity.

‘Perfectly fine. I merely came to… patrol.’

‘Patrol?’

‘Yes. I sensed suspicious air currents.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Suspicious air currents?’

‘Very.’

Her lips quirked. She knows when I’m being mischievous, but she lets me. That’s why she’s the best.

‘Would you like tea?’ she asked softly.

‘If it is no trouble,’ I said with utmost elegance. (It is always trouble. I always drink it anyway.)

She motioned me inside. But then…

Footsteps. Suspiciously heavy. Like a man’s. Who else is here other than me? I am the only man of this shrine!

His appearance stopped me dead on my tracks. So that’s why the air felt odd.

This Mutsuki person emerged. He walked down the shrine path holding a bag, hair tied loosely, wearing a soft sweater that made him look unbearably gentle. I stiffened some more at the sight. First, of him being familiar with the place. Second, of how much the environment liked him back. The wind, the energy around… and Youchan…

‘Afternoon, Youchan, Kojiro,’ he said with that voice. The calm one that somehow blows every feather on my wings backward.

Youchan smiled. ‘Good afternoon, Sensei.’

Her voice was softer than usual. Why?

He smiled back, with a hint of blush. Why did he smile back like that??

I narrowed my eyes. Suspicious. Deeply suspicious. What was he doing on the shrine outside class hours anyways?

‘Kojiro,’ Mutsuki said, ‘did you come to train on your day off?’

‘Perhaps,’ I said coolly. ‘Or perhaps not.’

He chuckled, stepping past me to set his groceries down. Youchan brushed a stray leaf from his shoulder.

EXCUSE ME??

I flared a wing instinctively. They both looked at me. I immediately folded it back.

‘Dust,’ I said. ‘I was… shaking off dust.’ Why are two girls, one real girl and one girl looking man blushing at each other anyways? Isn’t that weird?

Youchan’s cheeks warmed faintly, probably recognizing my rising discontent. Mutsuki tilted his head in confusion. That was kinda cute… 

I shook my head to reorient myself. Don’t let him fool you too, Kojiro. This man is not cute, he only dresses up as a girl to look cute. He is a predator through and through.

They lightly fought over the grocery bags and who gets to take them in the kitchen… Right in front of me!

Youchan won. Well, he let her win. Curse you. And he still followed through by making a wheeled bubble barrier thing out of thin air. It followed Youchan to the kitchen, so she didn’t have to carry anything. Oh he’s good!

When Youchan went inside, I followed Mutsuki to the courtyard, watching him carefully like any responsible guardian would.

Go home go home go home.

He stretched lightly, rotating his shoulders. I glared harder. He put his hair in a ponytail. I glared even harder. He bent down to tie his shoe. I glared so hard a leaf beside his foot caught fire.

Mutsuki noticed the smoke. ‘Kojiro? Is something bothering you?’

‘No.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Uhhhhh huh…’ 

He scratched his head, then attempted to turn on the hose to water the small garden patch Youchan tended. The hose refused to turn. 

Mutsuki frowned. ‘Weird. I thought I fixed this yesterday.’

I frowned too. What yesterday? Did you stay the night?

Then I felt it. The wind curling around the spout. It was mocking and somehow rebelling. Echoing my mood.

‘Kojiro,’ Mutsuki said carefully, ‘is this your wind?’

‘I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT,’ I snapped, feathers puffing.

The hose exploded, water blasted upward, drenching both of us. I froze in guilt. Sensei froze in concern. The wind giggled.

‘Okay,’ Mutsuki sputtered, wiping his face, ‘so it is yours.’

I turned bright red.

‘I DID NOT DO THAT ON PURPOSE.’

He laughed warmly. ‘It’s fine, Kojiro. Really.’

I crossed my arms. ‘No, it is not fine. My wind is… rebellious.’

He tilted his head. ‘Maybe it’s just upset.’

‘Winds do not get upset.’

‘People do.’

I looked away to avoid eye contact, but he stepped closer. Not too close. Just enough respectful distance that made my chest tighten with anticipation. Will I get told off again?

‘You can tell me if something’s wrong,’ he said gently.

I stared at him to study him. He really meant it. That made it worse. I don’t want to rely on you.

Youchan returned with tea, but ran back inside to grab towels after seeing our state. 

She saw Mutsuki dripping. She saw me glaring at Mutsuki dripping. She sighed softly. The way grown-ups do when children are being difficult but adorable.

‘Kojiro,’ she said gently, kneeling to dry my hair, ‘your feathers are ruffled. What happened?’

Mutsuki pointed at the sky. ‘The wind happened.’ Why don’t you blame me? Point at me?

‘The wind,’ she echoed, giving me a look that says: Kojiro. Explain. Now.

I wilted. But I didn’t want to say it. That I felt… weird. That Mutsuki’s arrival changed everything. That Youchan’s smile is brand new and happier when she talked to him. That he was pretty and calm and made everyone, even the air, sweeter and softer. That I felt… replaced….

I clenched my fists. Mutsuki noticed. He crouched so he could meet my eyes.

‘Kojiro,’ he said, ‘did something happen at home?’

I hesitated. And then grumbled under my breath, ‘I got grounded.’

‘Grounded?’ he said gently.

‘Grandfather says I cannot fly. Because my wind is too unstable. Because I cracked tiles. Because I am… too much.’

Mutsuki’s expression softened. ‘Kojiro,’ he said gently, ‘you are not too much.’

‘Yes, I am!’ I snapped. ‘My power is loud and annoying and breaks things and makes Youchan worry and…’

‘Kojiro.’

He said my name calmly but firmly. It made me stop rambling.

‘Your wind isn’t bad,’ he said. ‘It’s expressive.’

‘That sounds stupid.’

He laughed softly. ‘It sounds true.’

I looked at Youchan. She smiled at me in that warm, secret way she keeps just for me. I’m happy.

But then, Mutsuki smiled too. At her. And she smiled back. And I heard something crack. Not a roof tile or water pipe. Not something outside. Something inside my chest.

Suddenly, the wind picked up. Branches whipped. Paper charms fluttered wildly. The offering box rattled.

Mutsuki blinked. ‘Kojiro?’

‘I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING!’ I yelled.

I did. I was jealous. And ashamed. And angry at myself. And angry at him for being… him. And angry at Youchan for smiling at him. Everyone says Tengu children are prideful. But no one tells you that pride hurts.

The wind spun tighter. Wilder. Mutsuki shielded us three but the wind got in between us. Youchan reached for me, but the wind shoved her back gently, as if protecting her. I curled in on myself, hiding beneath my wings.

‘I don’t like it,’ I whispered. ‘I don’t like how I feel.’

‘Kojiro,’ Mutsuki called over the wind, ‘you’re not in trouble.’

‘YES I AM! I FEEL BAD THINGS! AT YOU! AT YOUCHAN! AT EVERYTHING!’

Mutsuki did the one thing no adult has ever done when I have these outbursts. He stepped closer to me and into the storm. He was not afraid. Not annoyed. Just… there. Like an annoying statue that won’t budge.

‘Kojiro,’ he said calmly, ‘it’s okay to be jealous.’

The wind froze mid-air. I stared at him. He smiled sadly.

‘I was jealous a lot as a kid. Of my cousins. Of kids outside my family. Of expectations. Of people who didn’t have to be perfect.’ He knelt down in front of me. ‘Jealousy means you care. It doesn’t make you bad.’

My throat tightened.

‘It makes me weak,’ I whispered.

‘No,’ he said, reaching out a hand but not touching me yet. ‘It makes you honest.’

That made something inside me break even more. But in a good way. A soft way. The wind calmed. Just a little.

‘I don’t want Youchan to like you more than me,’ I blurted.

Silence.

Mutsuki blinked rapidly. Youchan froze like a rabbit spotting danger. My face burned.

‘I mean… I don’t… It’s not… I just—’

Mutsuki’s expression softened in the gentlest way I’ve ever seen. He looked like a real girl.

‘Kojiro,’ he said quietly, ‘Youchan loves you.’

My breath caught. I thought I controlled wind but I ran out of air.

‘You are family to her. That doesn’t change.’

‘But you…’ I said helplessly. ‘You’re new and pretty and everyone likes you and Youchan smiles differently because of you and—’

‘And that scares you,’ he said.

I nodded, shaking. Tengu do not cry. But my eyes burned.

Mutsuki placed his hand over his heart. ‘Kojiro… I’m not here to take anyone from you.’

My breath stopped.

‘And,’ he added softly, ‘Youchan has loved you far longer than she’s even known me.’

Youchan’s eyes widened.

‘Sensei—’ she tried.

He held up a hand kindly.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m not stupid. I can tell she worries for you. Knows your moods. Predicts your meltdowns. You two have history.’

I stared at his face and then at his soul. And for the first time, he looked… Not like a rival. Not like a threat. Not like someone stealing my place. But someone who understood place. And didn’t want to take it from me. The wind sighed around us.

Youchan stepped close and knelt in front of me.

‘Kojiro,’ she said softly, her hand warm on my cheek, ‘you will always be my boy.’

My vision blurred.

‘I… will?’

‘Always.’

I leaned into her hand.

Then she added, so quietly Sensei could not hear, ‘And I will always be yours.’

My chest wobbled. I nodded fiercely. She pressed her forehead to mine, tengu-style. A promise. A truth.

Mutsuki waited for me to breathe evenly before speaking again.

‘Kojiro,’ he said, ‘your wind listened to me today.’

‘It hates you,’ I muttered. Must you ruin our moment?

‘Maybe,’ he laughed. ‘But it also calmed when you did.’

I ignored him and looked away.

‘Wind reflects emotion,’ he said. ‘It’s not misbehaving. It’s talking.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t have to. Just remember, “strong winds come from strong hearts”. And you have a very loyal one.’

I stared down at my hands. ‘If my wind hurts Youchan…’

‘It won’t,’ he said. ‘I trust you.’

No one has ever said that to me. Not even Grandfather. The wind curled around my ankles softly, like a hug.

We cleaned the courtyard together. Sensei, (I guess I could call him that at times) untangled fallen charms. Youchan brushed leaves off the path. I smoothed my feathers and tried not to transform into a puffball.

Whenever Youchan and Sensei accidentally brushed hands, I glared. But only a little… Maybe.

Sensei caught me staring once and smiled knowingly. I turned away so fast I nearly sprained my neck. You’re not that cute.

When I was ready to go, Sensei walked me to the torii.

‘Kojiro?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I said with maximum dignity.

‘Thank you for trusting me today.’

I looked at him intently, then muttered under my breath, ‘You’re not as annoying as I thought.’

He laughed. ‘High praise coming from you.’

Youchan ruffled my hair. I allowed it.

‘Go make amends with your family.’ He said. I nodded.

When I finally took off into the low hanging sun, feathers catching the soft wind, I realized something.

My wind wasn’t angry today. Just loud. Like me.

That night I wrote for Maria:

‘Sensei stepped into my storm. And he didn’t fall. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t try to steal my place.
He understood it. And maybe… I can share a little.’

And under it I drew:

A tengu boy. A teacher with soft eyes. And the shrine maiden between them.

All three smiling.