"Fireball!"
Shouting toward the night sky while extending his hand forward, a young man with golden hair, fox ears, and a fluffy tail creates a golden fireball in his palm and throws it toward a nearby tree.
This small ball, about the size of a tennis ball, hits the tree trunk perfectly, but strangely it does not burn it or make it explode; instead, it sticks there until it consumes itself.
Such a thing was disappointing for its thrower, who narrows his blue eyes and forms another fireball in his hand, though before he can release it he is interrupted by a small floating spirit.
"Asahiko…"
"Does it work, Saya?"
"No, it doesn't work for cooking either. Apparently it really doesn't have heat, but rather it's an illusion that plays with the senses, young Asahiko."
Explaining the situation with a sad expression while looking at the still-raw fish, Saya swallows saliva and coughs a couple of times before returning to his appearance as a wise old man.
Of course, Asahiko notices it more than easily, although it's not as if Saya is hiding it, so he puts on a smile and dispels the golden flames that were still in his hand. With that done, and also noticing the time, Asahiko approaches the fake campfire and makes a real fire, one that truly gives off enough heat to cook.
"Well, at least it's useful for lighting and it looks very good."
Sitting beside the warm campfire and creating a golden fireball, Asahiko speaks casually with Saya, who has drool on the ground.
"Ahem, maybe it's not an indiscriminate attack technique, but something more specific… Like Sacred Fang."
"Sacred Fang?"
"One of the three swords of Inu no Taisho. This one cannot cut or harm any living being, but it is the worst nightmare of beings from hell or the undead."
Pointing at Clouded Fang while talking about the undead and hell, Saya waits for some reaction from the proud dragon, which it does not give and only remains silent.
"Maybe you're right, Saya. I suppose then I'll focus first on the other three: transformation, illusion, and charm, although I don't think they'll be very useful."
"Don't think about it like that. Charm can force any weak human to follow your orders, illusions can deceive anyone at the worst moments, and transformation never hurts."
"Sure, I'll think they're useful and not that they're the classic abilities an evil empress would have."
Mocking the new abilities he has unlocked along with his tail and ears, Asahiko notices that the fish are ready, so he hands one to Saya and takes another for himself.
"In fact, they are, since I seem to remember there's a nine-tailed fox beyond the sea, in a kingdom called Korea."
"In Korea? So all that wasn't crazy myths and folklore? Whatever, I'm going to sleep; it's been a hectic day."
"Ugh, alright, gulp. Good night."
Swallowing the last bite of the wicked fish that resisted him, Saya says goodbye to Asahiko and floats toward the other fish left on the fire, feasting on it.
…
"Damn it, Saya. Why didn't you tell me!"
Running at full speed through the dense forest, a golden blur crosses a distance of one hundred meters in seconds and shouts at the small figure hanging from his shoulder.
The blur was obviously Asahiko, who upon waking up calmer realized that he was bathed in foul-smelling blood. On the other hand, the small figure is Saya, who upon coming out of the sheath found himself in this situation and could only hold on to avoid falling.
These two very disparate individuals with more than different intentions head toward the nearby river, which Asahiko had followed to reach the village and which stretches all the way to the distant mountains.
"Weren't you doing it for fun?"
Walking around bathed in blood, seriously?
"Some yōkai have those tastes, mainly those that feed on humans."
Speaking as if nothing about how yōkai eat humans, Saya tries to fix his posture but is almost dragged by the wind, causing him to open his eyes at the nonexistent danger and hold tighter to the clothing he is hanging from.
"Do I look like that kind of guy to you, Saya?"
"Ja, ja, Jajaja, sure, sure, of course not."
"You're only spared because it's more important to get to the river and take a bath."
Sighing as he finishes his cold words, Asahiko dodges a tree without even reducing speed and makes a nearly 90-degree turn, then increases his speed even more until finally reaching the river.
This section of the river was just as clear as the one where Asahiko had once seen himself, allowing the rounded stones beneath, schools of fish swimming, and small aquatic plants to be seen.
"Cannonball!"
Jumping without even slowing his run, Asahiko easily exceeds ten meters in height with his jump and falls with tremendous force into the river, raising a huge splash.
He stays diving down there for quite a while, until he finally comes out and spits the water from his mouth as if he were a fountain. With that small bit of stupidity done, Asahiko opens his eyes wide and touches his whole body, but even then he cannot feel Clouded Fang.
"Saya! Souga! Hey, where are you!"
"Gluupp, here, gluupp, behind you."
"Good thing you can talk underwater, Saya."
Walking a few steps with the water up to his waist, Asahiko easily finds the sword thanks to the transparency of the river and crouches to take it in hand.
But just at that moment, when his fingers are touching the hilt and he prepares to apply force, an elongated figure floats past his side. The first thing that hits Asahiko is doubt, then surprise, and then anxiety upon noticing that it is a young woman.
"It's a corpse!"
"It's not… Well, yes, but it's something more complex."
[He managed to feel several weak souls inside her body, which probably places her in the category of undead.]
Talking among themselves while watching the corpse dressed as a priestess slowly float, Asahiko steels himself and approaches to stop her with the sword in hand.
All caution goes out the window when he fixes his eyes on her properly, since she does not seem to have much movement to speak of, and her beautiful appearance also helps—human weakness, Asahiko thought in his mind.
Putting aside that bad mental joke, Asahiko lifts the abnormally cold and pale body of the priestess as if it were a sack of potatoes, then carries her to the shore and makes a quick campfire to dry them both.
"So neither of you knows what she is?"
"She's not a yōkai; I can feel the type of energy used by priestesses or monks inside her."
[I agree, although we could be more certain if you stab her with Clouded Fang and let me drink her blood.]
"Didn't we say no human sacrifices? Whatever, she'll be human until proven otherwise."
Kneeling beside the young woman, whose long black hair is spread around, Asahiko places his index and middle fingers on her pale neck in search of some trace of a pulse.
That is fruitless, since there is no pulse and he only feels cold skin to the touch, at least until a delicate hand grips his arm tightly and the young woman's brown eyes open.
"Uh… hello?"
"A… fragment…"
"Hey, hey, hey, don't die suddenly."
Completely ignoring the priestess's words, Asahiko moves her side to side by the shoulders when he notices she closes her eyes again, which does nothing at all and only makes him worry even more.
Now worried about the situation that might be his fault—probably not—Asahiko grabs her in his arms again and prepares to leave.
"Wait, are you going to take her to the village without even knowing what she is?"
"Yes, I'd feel bad if I left her to die here after she showed she was alive when I found her. Besides, if she becomes aggressive, we just have to… stab her?"
[I'm convinced.]
"Everything involving stabbing convinces you, Souga!"
Losing his temper and yelling at the dragon sealed within Clouded Fang, Saya strokes his beard until he simply accepts that this is going to happen whether he likes it or not.
And so it happened, because Asahiko simply accepts his words but continues with his plan, which is to take the young woman to the village.
…
Kikyo was angry, sad, resentful, hurt, and with every emotion uncovered or yet to be discovered, or at least that's how she felt while her reason floated in the absolute darkness of the nothingness created by her consciousness.
During that tumultuous moment, a light pierced that darkness, the same one that made her open her eyes to see how a young man tried to feel her pulse—the same light that came from that damned jewel for which she once gave her life and for which they turned her into a monster.
Knowing that, that she is now a monster made of clay and bone, Kikyo saw no need to stop over that minor matter and let it be; he would leave once he noticed there was no life in her. Surprise—he did not, and dragged her for who knows how long to who knows where.
When she had grown tired of being carried and treated like a rag, and after finally managing to partially take control of the souls that gave energy to this body, Kikyo made an effort to open her heavy eyelids.
"You really weren't a corpse!"
Yes, even before she could even know where she was or what situation she was in, Kikyo's vision was completely covered by the white face of a small girl.
This little one began to speak like a machine gun about her older brother and how he found her, making Kikyo—who had barely controlled the resentful souls inside her—go blank from the avalanche of information.
Luckily for her, the sliding door of the room is pushed aside before a figure she instantly recognizes enters the room. He was tall by normal standards, with bright golden hair never before seen and abnormally beautiful features, though she cares little about that at this moment.
"Was she really alive?"
"What, weren't you sure she was alive!"
"It was fifty-fifty, but I trusted my instincts."
Watching them talk to each other like siblings, despite not sharing any physical similarity at first glance, Kikyo's brown eyes narrow and follow Asahiko's figure as he approaches her.
His posture showed no hostile intent but also no openings, while his steps were too natural and almost without any apparent pattern, making Kikyo doubt whether he was on guard or not.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Asahiko, and you are…?"
"…"
Analyzing the white hand Asahiko extends to her—one without calluses from plowing the land or scars from using a sword—Kikyo once again tries to form a profile of the strange young man before her.
Normally all this confusion would not exist for her; good or evil, human or demon, white or black… But the person she is now observing is strange, whether physically or spiritually.
"Uh… well, that's awkward."
"Jajaja, she rejected you completely, so let me try. I'm Akemi, the one who took care of you before you woke up, and his beautiful sister."
Looking away from Asahiko, who retreats defeated to a corner but now keeps a watchful eye on her, Kikyo fixes her gaze on the expectant girl staring at her.
She has black hair, a pair of brown eyes full of youthful vitality, and rests her hands on her knees waiting for an answer, stirring a certain sensitivity Kikyo wanted to forget.
"Kikyo. You can call me Kikyo."
"Kyah, what a cute name!"
Tensing at the girl's sudden outburst, Kikyo's face forms a cold expression that is quickly replaced by a softer one, which is insufficient to scare Akemi, who begins shaking her side to side.
Those rough movements cause Kikyo's body, barely under her control, to go half limp, either due to the lack of souls to serve as fuel—courtesy of a certain person—or due to how little accustomed she really is to this new body.
"A-KE-MI!"
"I'm sorry!"
"You're only sorry because you're running!"
"Jajaja, that's because right now I have something to do."
Closing the door behind her after slipping out, only Asahiko and Kikyo remain inside the room. The former still watches the door with a threatening gaze, while the latter is lost in her own thoughts after recovering.
What were those thoughts about? Simple—the strangeness of the energy surrounding the young man in front of her. It was sharp like that of yōkai, but it lacked that characteristic coldness and malice, instead resembling a summer sun, making Kikyo doubt once more what stood before her.
"I'm sorry, she didn't do it with bad intentions, priestess."
"Don't call me priestess; I'm no longer worthy of that title… never again."
"Then what should I call you? I remind you that you haven't told me your name."
Acting puzzled as he finishes his words, Asahiko narrows his blue eyes and looks into Kikyo's brown ones, all in search of some reaction.
She does not give the stranger the pleasure, instead closing her eyes and letting herself fall onto the futon she had been lying on from the beginning, remaining alert to any movement.
"Tsk, fine. I won't call you priestess anymore, but I already introduced you as one to the village chief, so you'll have to fix that misunderstanding and tell him you just like dressing like one."
"Fine, you can leave."
"Do you know you're in my room…? Whatever, I'll go ask Izayoi for another place to sleep."
Opening one eye at how easily the acceptance comes, Kikyo watches his back and asks a question that has been circling her mind. She truly has no hope that the answer will be true—she knows too well how deceitful yōkai can be—but she asks it anyway.
"You're a yōkai, right?"
"Me? Maybe yes, but I don't think I fit the definition… And are you one?"
"I… heh, maybe yes."
Mocking herself with an answer that burns more than any attack, Kikyo notices how Asahiko's eyes scan her analytically and then curve into half-moons.
That makes her raise her level of alert, though he still shows no sign of hostility even now. Heh, it seems that despite everything, Kikyo still cares about her life—or at least still has something to accomplish and something for which she remains so alert to the danger of death.
"So you're not one. I knew I wasn't wrong about you. When I see Saya, I'll make him eat his words; he said you were… probably."
"Didn't you hear me? I said maybe. Maybe I'm a disgusting monster."
"Yes, yes, I heard you loud and clear, but you forgot something… no one ever doubts what they truly are."
"But you were doubting too!"
Expressing herself more intensely than anyone would expect, Kikyo's brown eyes turn like daggers and her voice cold as steel.
Is she doubting? No. She has already accepted the situation that she is no longer human, that she now needs to live off the souls of resentful and hurt women… that she is only a puppet of bone and clay moved by rage!
"Obviously it's because I'm not any kind of monster."
"But you said maybe you were—you can't just change it like that!"
"That 'maybe' is because Saya and Souga say it. Those two keep calling me little fox. But from my point of view, I'm completely human, and nothing and no one can change how I feel."
Those final words were like a direct blow to Kikyo—someone who currently has no strong 'self,' someone who is currently fighting with dozens of lesser souls with their own sorrows, desires, and grudges.
"Thinking it doesn't make it true! Reality does not bend to someone's desires or thoughts!"
"And others saying it doesn't make it true either; you have to know when to stand up to the crowd."
"Enough, you can leave now!"
"Huh? Is that okay…? I feel like I've done something wrong…"
Looking quite confused by the sudden expulsion, Asahiko hesitates for only a few moments and then simply leaves, leaving Kikyo alone in the room.
The moment the door closes completely, Kikyo's expression clouds like a storm, and she grips the blankets with her pale hands.
She had certainly noticed that they were not on the same page during the conversation, but even so, she needed to vent all that hatred and fury burning inside her.
"What I think… huh?"
Mocking herself softly, Kikyo simply closes her eyes and rests her body on the futon. Yes, she doesn't really need to sleep—she is undead—but she needs time to digest everything that has happened lately.