Nathan stepped out of the Kiro no Komichi.
The mist released him without ceremony — one step he was inside it, white and cold and absolute around him, and the next he was standing on ordinary ground beneath an ordinary sky, the dark of early morning spread above him with its familiar stars. Behind him, the curtain of white sat as it always had, impenetrable and still, giving nothing away. No indication that anything unusual had occurred within it. No trace of the Yamamba, or the Yokai, or the blizzard that had nearly taken him apart piece by piece.
He exhaled slowly.
