The next day.
The light of early morning spilled across the Shrine of Kaede Village.
The air was thick with the fresh scent of dew and earth. The evil oni of the night before seemed to have left little shadow over this small village; the villagers had long since begun their labors, and shouts drifted up from the fields.
Only in the open ground behind the Shrine was the mood a little different.
Whish—
A white-feathered arrow tore through the air and lodged firmly in the red bullseye fifty paces away.
Kikyō stood beneath the eaves.
She had only just bathed, and a faint scent of soap-bark clung to her.
Her white upper garment was pure as snow, and the broad cuffs slid back with the motion of her loosing the arrow, baring a stretch of forearm smooth as a lotus stem—skin so fine it seemed nearly translucent in the morning light.
Because she was practicing at home, she had not cinched the collar tight across her chest.
When she drew the longbow, the muscles of her shoulders and back flexing open behind her, that loose garment pulled taut against her body.
In that instant.
The curves the cloth traced out were breathtaking.
Though the broad cut of a shrine maiden's robes usually kept it hidden, Kikyō's figure was in truth exquisite.
The swell of her chest was full and round, trembling faintly with each breath, casting a shallow shadow beneath the white cloth.
The red hakama was bound at her waist, gathering in a slender, supple middle, and below that were the long, straight lines of her legs—legs one could sense even through the heavy fabric.
She was beautiful beyond compare.
And so cold that no one dared profane her.
But Kōbe Hikaru dared to profane her—because he was not human.
"Wah! A hit! Another hit!"
A cheer shattered that chilly stillness.
Two figures went dashing toward the target.
One wore a red-and-white shrine maiden's outfit—that was Momiji.
One wore a blue-and-white shrine maiden's outfit—that was Botan.
This pair of twin shrine maidens of the Tahōtō were now like two diligent little errand-girls, jostling to be the first to pull the arrows from the target.
"Lady Kikyō's archery is just too incredible!"
Botan came running back with an armful of arrows, her whole face full of worship. "She doesn't even need to aim—just raises her hand and it's the bullseye!"
Momiji said nothing, but she followed behind with several arrows in her arms, carefully wiping each one clean before returning it to the quiver, her eyes brimming with admiration.
They had not left.
The Tahōtō was gone, their master was gone, and that elder sister-disciple who had misled them was gone too.
With nowhere left to go, after a night of bitter, tearful weeping, the two of them had made a decision—to cling to this place.
They dressed it up nicely: "To atone for our sins, and to repay Lady Kikyō and Lord Kōbe Hikaru for saving our lives, we have decided to stay and help protect the Shikon Jewel!"
No one caved faster.
But anyone with eyes could see that these two little shrine maidens simply wanted a new pillar to lean on.
On that point, Kikyō did not refuse.
And Kōbe Hikaru did not care either.
So that was how the present scene had come to be.
Meanwhile.
Kokaede had dragged over a little folding stool and sat off to the side, holding a plate of freshly washed wild berries in her hands.
"Brother Hikaru, Sister Kikyō, Sister Momiji, Sister Botan—have some berries!" The little girl smiled so wide her eyes disappeared.
In the past she had been so lonely on her own. Her sister loved her, but was always busy exorcising demons and training, and her sister's temperament was too cold to play with easily.
Now, all at once, two lively big sisters had arrived—ones who could even conjure all sorts of paper doll tricks—and Kaede was simply overjoyed.
"Thank you, Kokaede!"
Botan snatched up a berry and stuffed it into her mouth, cheeks bulging like a hamster's.
Momiji was a little more reserved, but she couldn't help reaching out to pinch Kaede's cheek.
The three girls huddled together, chattering away, lending a bit of warm, human life to this Shrine that usually seemed so cold and quiet.
Kōbe Hikaru leaned against the doorpost of the Shrine's main hall, watching the scene.
Those crimson eyes narrowed slightly.
He thought this scene was rather good too.
Truly good.
Two more pairs of hands could share some of the burden on Kikyō.
At the very least, the daily trivialities, the clearing out of low-level yōkai, and the basic upkeep of the village's barrier—these two, raised in proper shrine maiden schooling, were quite capable of handling all that.
Kikyō loosed her last arrow, lowered the bow, and turned around.
She met Kōbe Hikaru's gaze exactly.
The girl started faintly, then glanced over at the three girls making a merry ruckus, and a trace of softness surfaced in the depths of her eyes.
She walked over to Kōbe Hikaru's side.
"They're very noisy."
Kikyō said it softly, but there was no distaste in her tone.
"Noisy is good."
Kōbe Hikaru reached out and, quite naturally, tidied a strand of hair the wind had blown loose at her temple. "It means there's life here."
Kikyō did not shy away, letting his fingers touch her cheek.
"Mm."
She answered with a single sound.
The two stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the frolicking in the yard.
The years were peaceful and serene.
It seemed everything had already settled into place.
But Kōbe Hikaru knew this was only the calm before the storm.
The string of black shrine maiden's prayer beads in his robes was still faintly giving off a chill—he had been trying to grind away the resentment within it using his yōkai power, but it was slow, painstaking work.
And what put him even more on guard was the wind from the north.
When he'd returned last night, he had deliberately taken a detour to look.
That smell.
The stench of gunpowder smoke.
And that—so-called power of a divine artifact, the kind that made one's scalp prickle even from several hundred miles away.
"What are you thinking about?"
Kikyō keenly sensed the shift in his mood.
Kōbe Hikaru withdrew his hand, his gaze cast toward the north.
"Uesugi."
He spat out the word.
"The earlier retreat was only a strategic regrouping. That princess-general called Kakizaki Kageie is dead, but that alone won't frighten off the woman they call the God of War."
"On the contrary, it may—"
Kōbe Hikaru's eyes were deadly serious. "It may only excite her more."
The hand gripping the bow tightened in Kikyō's grasp.
"You mean… that Uesugi Kenshin who rules the land of Echigo, will come in person?"
"She will, without fail."
Kōbe Hikaru was certain.
According to what Imagawa Yoshimoto had said.
That woman who called herself the incarnation of Bishamonten—having raised the banner of demon-slaying, there was no way she would slink back home after losing one of her great generals.
And after them, there would be more to keep him busy still.
Even so. "That's fine too."
He had long since prepared for this, long since had his answer ready.
And so Kōbe Hikaru smiled, a smile carrying more than a little of an Asura's cold ferocity.
His condition now was better than it had ever been.
The Thunder-Sinew Razor-Body had fully stabilized, the Nekomata's Claw had unlocked Soul Summoning, and the great earth of Kantō's acknowledgment of him was rising as well.
With that.
He glanced at Kikyō beside him.
That hand she had shown last night—the Borrowed Sun—had once again refreshed his understanding of his lover's strength.
In the past, facing an opponent of Uesugi Kenshin's caliber, plus the forces behind her, he might still have considered avoiding her edge for a time.
But now.
"Then let her come."
Kōbe Hikaru's hand pressed down on the Muramasa at his waist. "I'd very much like to see, too, whether this so-called Bishamonten…"
"…is truly a god after all."
And if she insisted on making an enemy of him, then he would not mind in the slightest—slaying a god.
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