"There's only this one. You're sleeping on it?"
Kikyo glanced at the small mat, then at Hikaru.
She probably remembered the nonsensical things Kaede had said that morning, and a very faint blush rose to her face.
"You are injured."
She said.
"I'm a ghost."
Hikaru patted his chest. "I don't need to sleep. I can just stand for the night."
"Sit here."
Kikyo moved to the side, giving up half the space. Her expression was calm and her face cool, but the tips of her ears were still slightly red.
Hikaru didn't move.
"It's too cramped."
"It's not."
Kikyo insisted.
She didn't seem used to owing favors, even small things like this.
Hikaru sighed, walked over, and sat cross-legged.
There was a distance of half a fist between them.
Their clothes rubbed together.
That scent became even stronger.
Kikyo seemed a bit uneasy; her body was stiff and upright, and even her breathing became light.
Hikaru looked at the dancing lamplight ahead, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.
[demon blade muramasa indicates hunger. It smells a very fragrant scent not far away.]
"I'm hungry too."
Hikaru said suddenly.
Kikyo turned to look at him, somewhat puzzled. "The grain cakes that the old man brought earlier..."
"Not that kind of hunger."
Hikaru drew his blade an inch out of its scabbard.
The cold light illuminated half of his face, as well as those crimson eyes.
"It's hungry."
"And my hands are itching too."
He didn't want to spend the whole night in this moldy house, dwelling on the despair of this village.
He didn't want to wake up tomorrow morning and have to listen to that old man nagging and begging them to negotiate terms with a man-eating yokai.
He was a yokai himself.
He never let his hands be tied.
He was more sensitive to it.
"You feel frustrated, don't you?"
Hikaru suddenly glanced sideways at the priestess beside him, his eyes meeting Kikyo's deep, dark gaze.
Kikyo was slightly taken aback.
Then she saw the 'youth' before her suddenly smile.
Although she didn't answer, he could indeed feel the frustration and hesitation in Kikyo's heart.
As a mage with powerful spiritual power, she should be slaying demons and exorcising evil.
As a priestess, she should also purify yokai that desecrate the gods.
But, after killing it...
What would happen to those people?
Regardless, that yokai had indeed brought stability to this village.
Even if it felt wrong, Kikyo's reason told her that the old man's approach was the correct one.
Just scaring it a bit would actually be enough.
It would be sufficient.
It's just that the frustration remained.
Allowing demons to run rampant...
Indignation was inevitable.
"Don't worry about it so much."
Hikaru sat up and looked up at the moon outside the window: "Since it's an evil-doing yokai, it must be killed."
"Since it's a sin-committing god, it should be dragged down from its altar."
"As for what happens afterward..."
"We'll talk about it later."
Hikaru stood up.
The hem of his gray clothes caught a gust of wind, making the oil lamp flicker.
"I used to really like a saying:'Saving you has nothing to do with you.' Some people and some things simply must be dealt with."
"I'm going to cut off its head to wake this village up."
"You rest."
He didn't look at Kikyo as he turned toward the door.
His wrist was suddenly grabbed.
The touch was somewhat cool, and the fingertips bore thin calluses from years of holding a bow.
Hikaru looked back.
Kikyo had already stood up, grabbing the vermilion longbow resting nearby.
"Together."
She said.
She seemed to have made up her mind; her eyes were dark yet bright, blooming with depth!
Hikaru looked at her hand, then at her eyes.
There was no girlish shyness in them, only the purity and determination of a priestess.
"Fine."
Hikaru grinned.
"Then together."
Kikyo let go, tidied her collar, and was the first to push open the door.
"Together."
She repeated.
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