京都市、四日目

The east wing of the Palace was where the guests' rooms were, and where the Royal Family lived in private, sealed-off quarters of their own.

One particular garden of the many scattered throughout the Palace was the only relatively quiet and peaceful place that Pai could find for solitude. Of course, there were still gardeners and land sweepers who tended to the earth and watered the shrubs and big-leafed plants that grew wild in a strangely tamed manner, but they paid her no heed. As far as they knew, she was just another guest who needn't be bothered by them.

Shiori had gone with Kouta for the signing of the Treaties, again. She'd only managed to drop by Pai's room for a quick hug Shiori said she wouldn't make through the day without, and then gone off. Pai wouldn't see her again until the evening meal.

She had started to take her mostly uneaten meals to her room rather than be out in the large common room with the other Daitengu who shared their meal together as they always did. She didn't want them to catch wind of the low spirits plaguing her since the outing with Shin went south, especially after how good it had been going until that horrible moment.

It was midday, and she lay back on the soft grass under the cool shade of a large tree. She was staring vacuously up at the leaves rustling in the gentle wind that breezed through the trees in the garden, ruffling her clothes, swimming over her skin. As the leaves shifted, sliding over each other, little patches of sunlight managed to peek through, warming what parts of her the rays could touch.

The tree she lay under was hidden behind a tall hedge at the far end of the garden, at least as tall as her waist. Lying down, there was no way anyone would see her unless they came past the hedge. No one did because it was right at the end of the garden, close to the wall surrounding the whole Palace.

She was glad for it. At least then no one would see her and wonder why she had spent the better part of the last three hours hardly moving on the ground. Maybe someone would think she was dead.

She didn't know that she would mind if she was.

A lump of black fur pressed against her side stirred, and she glanced down, though she didn't make a move to stand. No one was in the garden except for the gardeners. She was alone save for a black cat that had appeared out of nowhere as she walked through the Palace's halls. The cat stubbornly stuck by her side the whole morning.

The cat stood now, luxuriously stretching his forearms in front of himself, arching his back, finally waking from his nap. His fur was black as coal, and his paws were white, like he was wearing socks. There were no other distinguishable marks on him, except for the fact that his sleek tail was split in two. Around the cat's neck was a dark blue leather thong that held a single silver bell on it, though it made no sound as the cat walked slowly around her head. There was no tag attached to the collar, which looked more like a necklace than a collar, though there was a name etched into the round silver face of the bell; Sato.

Just that. Just Sato.

She didn't know if the cat was Nekomata, Ayakashi that became cats, or if he was a regular cat that was just becoming Ayakashi, as Bakeneko were. The cat – Sato – didn't act any more human than occasionally sitting and staring intently into her eyes without making a sound. She doubted that said much about whether or not he was human, considering every single cat in existence had perfected the art of making humans ill at ease by staring at them for uncomfortably long periods of time.

She didn't feel any heat or cold as she reached out and petted him, bringing her hand up from his head, along the arch of his back, and to the top of one tail. Sato purred, the sound running like a little motor in his belly as she scratched his tailbone.

"If you were Ayakashi," she mumbled, running her hand up his body so she brushed his fur the wrong way as she petted his forehead again. "You wouldn't let me pet you, would you?"

He mewed in response. She pulled back her hand as he rubbed his head down her cheek before sitting on his haunches to place his paws on her shoulder. She glanced down to see Sato kneading her shoulder, only allowing his claws out just enough to make it feel like he was massaging her.

(It is so, so nice.)

She dropped her hand down so that it was close to her head as she continued to stare vacantly at the trees. Sato continued to work on her shoulder before stopping, shifting closer, and patting her cheek with the pad of his paw. It was the only warning she got before he walked up over her body and sat on top of her, a heavy, warm weight on her chest. He reached over and swiped at her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut as her body locked, expecting pain.

None came. Sato's claws weren't out, and after a few more swipes, she opened her eyes and realized that Sato was playing with her eyelashes. She closed her eyes again and let him continue with his game. It amused him for at least five minutes before he hopped over her head.

She remained as she was, listening to all the sounds around her. In the distance, if she concentrated, she could hear the market, the clamour of people's voices clashing together. Over that was the wind sighing through the sky and rustling the grass and leaves on the trees, birds twittering their sweet songs, water from the gardeners on the other side from her spraying out onto the plants.

You are...strange today. Kuniumi spoke slowly. She was testing the words, like she wasn't used to them, or like she felt that there was something wrong with them.

Pai opened her eyes.

A patch of sunlight shone on her left eye, and she closed it as she pushed herself and sat up. Twisting around without standing, she shifted until her back was braced against the tree and she was facing the garden again. She could see the heads of the gardeners moving about in their business, wearing large straw sunhats to protect from the midday sun.

Why, she asked bluntly.

You are empty. She replied. Normally you try to hide your emotions. You conceal them from your face; bury them from your voice.

And now?

Now you are empty, Kuniumi repeated. Your emotions...it is like they're not here. They are barely here. You're pushing them far away.

There was no point to lying, because Kuniumi would know she was. Kuniumi knew everything about her – from what Pai didn't want anyone else knowing, to what she didn't even remember ever knowing.

It hurts to know I was so close to her and I couldn't get to her. It hurts because she saw me and she didn't stop. Pai swallowed around a lump that stuck in her throat like a rock. She saw me, and she left.

That is what she does. She sees you, and she leaves. She makes you think you know her when you know nothing. It was not a sharp, witty retort. Kuniumi was sad as she spoke the words. She didn't try to hide that sadness as she usually did, in a way that made her feel like Kuniumi was trying to protect her from it. Pai felt the quiet of it wash over her, adding to her own, taking from her own, mixing with her own – becoming her own. You would be better off not dwelling on her. Think of what you have now. Think of the family surrounding you now.

How? She asked, tipping her head back on the trunk of the tree and closing her eyes. Her heart was made of glass, and it was broken, but the jagged pieces were still sticking together. The glass was tinged with all the bruising colours of despair. It was beautiful, and so deadly. Her heart continued to beat, pulsing, cutting her up even as it kept her alive.

How can I be happy with what I have now when I don't even know what it is I lost?

Kuniumi didn't have a response to that. She didn't leave like she usually did when the conversation turned to something she didn't like, but neither did she say anything more. Even with a voice in her head that was always there, one way or another, turning up at inopportune moments and disappearing when it so pleased, Pai had never felt more alone that she did now.

If you knew what she did to you, you would not grieve for what you lost like you do now.

isn't that the point? I don't know.

You don't want to. You say you do. You won't.

She opened her eyes again and stared blankly at a single leaf quivering on its stem, about to snap free and fall to the ground. It was brown. It was dying. The corners of her eyes were on fire, but she kept the salty water from falling. She had cried enough. Now she was left to wade through the dull quiet that always followed the tears.

Why do you say that? You...you know something. More than the missing three years. You know something about my sister.

We do.

She swallowed thickly around the ball of cotton wool stuck in her throat. Will you tell me?

We can't.

Why?

We want to, oh we want to. Kuniumi mumbled. We are so tired of being alone without you. Believe us when we say we would tell you if we could, but we can't. You have to remember on your own. If we force you, if we reveal your lost memories to you, it will break you. You need to become strong before you can remember.

She didn't think that was possible. She was already so, so tired. How could she become strong if she was barely able to keep herself up now?

She didn't – wouldn't it just, be easier, if it all stopped? If she just...stopped. If she stopped existing, if she stopped thinking, feeling, breathing...being? If she just stepped back, fell back into the ground or scattered in the air, wouldn't it be better than all this suffering?

She doesn't see anything good in pushing through. She doesn't see a light at the end of the tunnel of pain that revolves around her like a jagged kaleidoscope. She doesn't want to keeping walking and dodging all the sharp spikes that want to impale her, only to have to keep doing the same thing, over and over, for the rest of her life.

She didn't want to do anything anymore. She just wanted it all to stop. If she just...took steps to seeing that through, to ending it all...

Do you want to do it? Kuniumi asked. She didn't sound concerned. She sounded curious, like she wanted to know if Pai would really go through with the thoughts, the methods already planned, swirling in her head.

Yes. No. I don't know.

She pressed the heels of her palms to her forehead as she dropped her head down, pushing the backs of her hands on her raised knees. She swung herself to the side and fell back on the grass, staring blearily at the blade of grass an inch from her nose.

Go away. Please just go away.

Only a lingering regret and infinite grief remained in place of Kuniumi as she minded Pai and slunk away.

×

Shin found her like that some time later, lying on her side with her knees drawn up close to her chest. Her eyes were closed, and he was so silent on his feet. Even the crackle of the grass seemed to heed his call for quiet. She wasn't aware anyone was there until she felt a hand brush loose hair from her face.

She opened her eyes slowly, scrambling to sit up when she saw Shin looking down at her as he knelt on his haunches beside her. She blinked in surprise as she took in his attire; he looked like a shinobi, only without a hooded cowl attached. He was dressed in black garb, and his Mask was the only offering colour. He had on jikatabi with the hilt of his tanto peeking out over the edge.

On his forearms were leather guards fitted around from his hand down to the middle of his forearm. The pants he wore were loose enough to allow him to move freely, tucking into the top of his boots, while the shirt hugged his fit form. The straps of the dual sheathes where he kept his katanas on his back criss-crossed over his chest.

"Shin-san," she startled. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you," he said simply.

She blinked. "You were? Why?"

"To check on you. You have shadows under your eyes again." He leaned forward slightly and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. He was warm. He was always warm, and she was always ice. She kept herself still until he removed his hand. "You didn't sleep well again, did you?"

She thought to lie. It was her first instinct to. But from the way Shin's deep blue eyes bored into hers, she knew he would catch the lie in her words.

She shook her head. "No."

"Because of what happened yesterday?" at her nod, he pursed his lips. "You need to sleep."

"I know. I tried. But I just – " she broke off, at a loss for words. She had no idea how she was supposed to convey the utter hopelessness clawing at her deep into the night in a coherent way. The only thing she could think to do to even begin to show it was screaming; but she couldn't do that. "I am sorry."

Shin cocked his head. "Why?"

"For breaking down yesterday." She looked down at her fingers as she knotted them together, trying her hardest not to start crying again. She hated crying. "For worrying you."

Shin didn't say anything and she kept her gaze fixed on her hands, afraid to look at him. At the same time, she wanted to look up so that she would see the expression on his face. She finally did when he reached over and patted the top of her head, ruffling her hair.

It was the same thing Haru did on a regular basis, but this was different. Shin wasn't messing her hair up – he was offering her some small measure of physical comfort, as if he knew that she wouldn't be able to take any more than that. A lump rose up in her throat. She wanted to thank him, but the threat of crying was a very real one that she didn't want to give the chance to rise up out of her.

Shin stood after a moment and held his hand out for hers. Confused, she automatically took it and let him pull her up. She brushed the clinging grass off of the homongi she wore as he gestured back to the main building of the Palace with his head.

"Come on," he said, offering her a small smile. "I want to show you something."

"Um," she returned, confusion etching its hesitant brushstrokes on her face. "Okay?"

He turned and she followed as he started walking off. Everyone bowed before Shin, going even lower than they had with Daichi as they walked through the corridors. Shin returned their bows with a simple nod, but she could see how uncomfortable all their bows made him from the faint scrunch of his brows, the minute clenching of his jaw.

They went up, climbing stairs, headed for something Pai couldn't guess at. She had no idea what he wanted to show her – and why was he walking so fast? It was like he wanted to get to wherever he was taking her without anyone noticing. Or maybe he didn't want to be stopped by someone for some random thing. She'd seen that happen to a couple of the other Daitengu when she walked around the halls, and saw some attendant or other hurrying to catch a Daitengu for something.

They didn't speak as they walked down the corridors, crossing three bridges, climbing two flights of stairs, and dodging two large groups of attendants by staying behind walls. She understood that, at least; the first group were Kitsune. She knew that much from their ears – though they were in their human forms, their ears were slightly pointed and topped with tufts of fur that ranged from brown to red to black. The second group, she couldn't tell, but Shin didn't seem to want to be seen by them either.

She got half the answer to where he was taking her a few minutes later.

They came to a stop in front of a plain wooden door, undecorated where all the others were. There was only a steel bolt slid home, with the lock embedded in the door. She looked down over the railing as Shin unlocked the door, down at the incredible height they stood at. Looking up only yielded the sight of the skylight at the centre of the ceiling just a few metres away. Gold plates circled the edges of the skylight, branching out like the rays of the sun.

They were very high up indeed. Shiori would probably faint, with her new-found fear of heights.

"We are really high," she commented blandly, echoing her thoughts.

"Are you scared of heights?" he asked, looking back at her as he slid the bolt open.

She shook her head. "No. I am not good with small spaces, but I am not scared of heights."

Even as she did, she wondered why she so unthinkingly admitted her weakness to him. She had been taught to hide her weaknesses, to ignore them, to overcome them. Definitely not to blatantly give them out like they were shrine talismans at a festival –

She froze as she registered her thoughts, at how on track they ran with the Pai of her memories. That Pai was a ruthless killing machine. That Pai was taught to keep her weaknesses only to herself, to train and beat them out so that she was more perfect a killer. Those thoughts didn't belong with her; they belonged with that Pai, not her.

"That's good. Here," he held out a hand to her as he pushed the door open with his other. "This way."

Stirring from the dreaded realization of how her thinking was starting to be like that Pai's, she reached forward to take his hand, her fingers curling around his. She didn't even think about it, just simply did it like it was completely normal. He gripped her hand tight in his, like he was worried she would try to pull away, though she didn't. She would never.

He pulled her through the doorway.

For a second she was momentarily blinded by the sunlight that exploded all around them. She lifted her free hand up to shield her eyes from the glare, blinking rapidly. When her eyes got used to the light, she lowered her hand and walked forward slowly.

They were on a large balcony that was almost entirely empty except for a section, in the far right corner, close to the wall, that seemed like the balcony railing had been intentionally built to be missing a part. When she squinted for a closer look, she saw that there was a platform built into the ground from the part, extending out a good few feet over the balcony. It was a landing, and she wondered what it was used for. It was big enough that five people could stand shoulder-to-shoulder on it. Five very broad-shouldered people.

Shin let go of her hand, allowing her to walk over to the railing for a better look at where they stood. As she did, her mouth fell open in awed amazement.

Before them, she could see everything. The Royal Palace itself wasn't a particularly tall building, but because it stood on a large plain jutting out from the side of an entire mountain, she could see the city of Kyoto stretching out before her perfectly. Morning sunlight bathed the city's skyscrapers, their windows glinting as they caught the rays of sun. It made them shine like crystals in the distance.

The forest was swathed in bright light, the green of the leaves on the trees clustering together to make a huge domed roof. A thin, glittering track winding around the base of the mountain was the leaden line of the stream coiling around through the dense forest.

The two – the thousand-year city, Kyoto, and the forest – seemed to be the perfect manifestations of the differences in the world; the city, grey and dark yet riddled with bright lights – and the forest, green and dark and full of hidden secrets and worlds.

Dark and light...hidden secrets and worlds... Kuniumi echoed as she caught the fragments of Pai's thoughts. Humans in their homes of enlightenment and cement, and Ayakashi in their worlds of magic and gods.

She looked down and saw the village, its people clustering together in groups, some walking alone, wandering about the village on their daily business. The wind that blew her hair back from her shoulders and drifting towards the city from the forest stung with cold. It was so fresh and untainted by pollution that she breathed in as deeply as she could go, filling up her lungs and letting the wind touch every part of her body. From this height, when she looked down to the right, she could see the garden she had lazed about in.

"This is amazing," she breathed, astounded that such a view had been so close, yet she had known nothing about it. "I had no idea there was a place like this here."

Shin hummed from where he stood by her side, bracing his forearms on the ledge of the balcony. The wind sent his hair, now just long enough to be pulled back into a short ponytail at his nape, flying about his head, ruffling it up to all craziness. She resisted the urge to reach up and pat it down by clenching her hands to fists and lowering them to her sides.

"Not many do," he replied. "This is one of the training areas for those who enrol to join the Palace Guard." He nodded over at the platform. "A mat is rolled out there and we spar, usually those who haven't learned how to fly yet. That's where we learn. The only way to stop a fight is if one of us wins by shoving the other off. Then we either fly, or fall."

"But..." she motioned down at the ground far below. "What if you got hurt when you fell?"

"We heal fast." He reminded, smirking at the obvious shock she couldn't hide from her face. Sure, it was true; Hengen did heal fast – but still.

"That is brutal."

"It is," he admitted. "But it's how we learn to react instantly to anything that happens."

"'We'?" she repeated. "You trained here?"

"In the beginning." He nodded. "My father was part of Sojobo Kurama's personal bodyguard detail. My family lived here, and because of my father, I was always around Kouta. Growing up," he chuckled. "I always wanted to join the Palace Guard and work my way up the ranks so that I would be part of Kouta's retinue the way my father was for his, in addition to the Daitengu."

"Lofty goals," she murmured, impressed, as she mimicked Shin's stance and leaned on the balcony with her elbows. She frowned as she thought of something. "Daitengu are supposed to protect the ruler of their Clan, right?" at his nod, she asked, "How come you're all with Kouta-sama instead of here, with Sojobo Kurama?"

"Ten-year mandatory Daitengu training," he explains. "We develop our Abilities and perfect them, become the best soldiers we can be. The Sojobo's personal bodyguards protect him while we train."

"So when you come back here, to live here," she asked. "Will it be Kouta-sama you protect, or Sojobo Kurama?"

"Both." He replied. "Our allegiance lies to both of them, because they are one and the same to us. Heirs are like more flexible extensions of Kings, and we protect and serve both."

"Ah," she murmured, biting her lip as she thought, So Fu demands loyalty to them only. Split allegiances is not something they understand. "Did you want to be Daitengu since you were a child?"

"I never wanted to be Daitengu."

There was a bitter undertone in his voice that she didn't expect, though she knew it wasn't directed at her. She could tell that it was a sensitive subject for him, and didn't push it.

"Oh." She kept her eyes fixed on the beauty in front of her so that she could focus on that, rather than the images conjured up in her head of a little Shin with baby wings, up here, training so that he could follow his father's footsteps. "So, you have known Kouta-sama for...?"

"Since I was three, four, around there. We train by individual age groups. He's a year younger, and when we just started training he'd always try to sneak into our classes because we did the more 'fancy' stuff that he wanted to do." He laughed to himself in fondness over the memory. "He got hell from his mother for it and endless lectures from Sojobo Kurama about how important it is to go through all the steps, not to bypass one level to get to the next."

She was smiling as Shin shared this one precious memory of his. He rarely talked about himself or his past. The fact that he was doing so now, to her, warmed her. It made her feel like he was drawing her in to the fabric of his world, bit by bit, and it made her just a little less lonely for it.

"Chibi," she said without thinking. Shin glanced at her with a quirked eyebrow. "I just imagined chibi versions of you and Kouta-sama. Very cute."

He chuckled lowly, amused by the trail of her thoughts. His laugh sufficiently distracted her from the abrupt realization that she had called him cute. Or, at least she did the chibi version of him she'd imagine. Her cheeks flamed, and she ducked her head behind the fluttering length of her hair to hide her embarrassment.

He pushed himself back from the railing and stood in a soldier's stance, crossing his arms over his chest. "You said you're not afraid of heights?"

She nodded. "That's Shii-chan..." she just managed to stop the flickering frown from growing on her face as she recalled Kuniumi's words about how Shiori's sudden fear of heights had developed after she'd been in Pai's subconscious.

Shin nodded his head at the platform. There was a sly glint in his eye. "I want to take you somewhere. Do you trust me not to let you go?"

She blinked in confusion. "As in, you want to...wait, you want to fly there? With me?"

"Walking there would take a day. Flying will be a couple of minutes."

That fast?

"I'm – what if I am heavy?"

Shin rolled his eyes. "Do you honestly think you are?"

Anorhwe blush crept up her neck, and she crossed her arms over her chest and ducked her head down in a vain attempt to hide the blush. She knew it was pointless; she could feel her cheeks burning at the very thought of being in Shin's arms like that. But she didn't want to say no – the complete opposite, in fact. She wanted to say yes, but it was her complete willingness to do so that made her redden.

He sought you out for a reason, Kuniumi mumbled, a teasing lilt in her voice. Will you really refuse him because you don't want to seem audacious?

Temerity had nothing to do with it. It was just...just her lack of experience...with...

With?

Shut up or I'll play loud punk rock music tonight and give you a headache.

You don't have punk rock music.

Shiori does.

You don't know we'll get a headache.

You don't know that you won't, she shot back.

Hesitantly, she nodded at Shin. "I trust you."

Shin smiled.

It almost broke her heart.

He looked so relieved, as if for a split second he'd thought that she would say otherwise. She couldn't believe he could think she didn't trust him. He was the one who had seen parts of her that she allowed no one else to, not even Shiori. He had seen her in her weakest, most vulnerable moments, and she hadn't shut him out because of it the way she would have anyone else. There was no conceivable way she could not trust him.

He gestured for her to follow him to the platform. She gave the view of Kyoto city rising in the distance one final look before she followed. Pai walked out to the very end and leaned forward only slightly, looking down. A gust of wind blew her hair back, and she immediately reached for her wrist to tie her hairband around her hair. Her fingers scrabbled at her skin uselessly. She had been so out-of-it since what happened yesterday that she forgot to take a hairband with her like she always did when leaving her room with her hair undone.

"W – where should I...um," she cleared her throat nervously. "Where should I stand?"

"Right there." He said, walking over to stand in front of her as she turned back to him. "May I?" he asked, holding his hands up.

"Um...yes?" Slightly confused, she nodded, and looked down at his shoes as his hands fell on her shoulders. Carefully, he guided her around until she was standing precariously close to the very edge.

"Don't look down." He warned just as she was doing exactly that.

She snapped her gaze up to his and was caught with fascination as she realized how close they were, how she could see tiny flecks of black amidst the deep blue ocean in his eyes. She thought she saw the thinnest sliver of red in their depths. She couldn't be sure she wasn't just imagining it when he blinked and it disappeared.

"I am not afraid of heights." She said again, as firm as she could with pigeons flying stupidly about in her stomach.

"Even so," he chuckled. "Most people's sentiments would change when standing so close to the edge like this."

His hands slid down her shoulders to her arms, slowly. Goosebumps rose up over her flesh, and it had nothing to do with the chill of the mountain air this high up. She was surrounded by Ayakashi, standing close to one right now. It was not the mountain's cold that kindled the bumps rising up over her skin, the idiotic pigeons fluttering in her stomach, the erratic pump of her heart.

"Maybe I am not most people?" she offered bravely.

He smirked. "Are you ready?"

At her nod, he moved.

It happened faster than she could keep track of.

She stood in front of Shin, arms held awkwardly at her sides, watching every emotion play over his face, fascinated by how the wall he built so high to keep everyone out had broken down just a little, just enough, when he was with her. She couldn't tear her eyes away, unwilling to miss even a single moment.

Shin bent a little, enough so that he could easily scoop her up, one arm under her knees, the other around her back. The move was unexpected, and she threw her hands instinctively around his neck as her sense of balance distorted alarmingly. For a brief second she was reminded of when he'd picked her up after she'd attacked him in the forest outside the house, back at home in Sapporo.

She was reacting in almost the exact same way, if not blushing more.

There was a sudden, blinding white light that sprung out at Shin's back. It burned her eyes, and she squeezed them shut – from both surprise and the pain – as she hid her face against the side of his neck. Her stomach plunged to her feet as she felt the air swirl around them like they were right in the middle of a powerful vortex.

Instead of getting colder, she only grew hotter as a pool of warmth settled in place of her fallen stomach. After what seemed like centuries she cracked open an eye, fully expecting to be blinded again. Astonishment filled her entire being as her eyes widened, staring, blinking rapidly against the wind rushing around them.

At Shin's back were wings.

They weren't what she was expecting, but none the less beautiful for it. As crow Ayakashi, she thought they would be a pair of simple black wings. They were black, but far from simple. What greeted her eyes was the sight of huge dusky wings lined with feathers at the ends that faded into white. They looked ethereal, yet still somehow strong enough to weather the strength of the winds pulling at them. The same supernal light of the feathers seemed to emanate from Shin's entire being, and she was encased in it as well.

It was so warm.

His wings were so strong and powerful, just like the man they belonged to, the man they were a part of. They beat in tune, once, against the strong flow of the wind rushing to them, before he settled into an easy glide. Stretched out, the wingspan looked to be at least double his arm length, if not more. They were massive.

The longer she stared in awe at them, the more something, a faint memory, nibbled at the edges of her mind. She frowned at the dual sheathes strapped to his back as she struggled to remember. The straps of the sheathes weren't getting in the way of the wings that were connected to Shin from between his shoulder blades, through his shirt. Rather, the sheathes seemed to have been specifically tailored to that they didn't impede his ability to fly. As she gaped soundlessly at his wings, between one owlish blink and the next, she remembered.

Shin stood over her, his back to her, with his twin katana blades drawn and nestled comfortably in his hands. She could just see the flicker of an ethereal, white light fading away as Shin drew his wings in.

A light sprinkling of the glass he had just crashed through dusted his black hair, making it shimmer like diamonds in the sky as he stood under the lights. As she looked up at him, it was almost as thought she could feel the waves of barely leashed hostility and deadly intent flowing from the silent form of Shin as he stood facing down the Oni.

He flew to the warehouse, Kuniumi told her as Pai slowly managed to drag her eyes up to stare at the line of Shin's jaw. That is how he got to you in time. That is how he saved you. How do you think he got you to Ayashi House, and then the hospital, before your body could collapse from the poisoning without aid?

"Your wings...they're so beautiful," she whispered, still held in enraptured awe.

They weren't enough. Those simple, inadequate words, were not enough to convey the near-veneration she felt at seeing his wings, at knowing what they looked like, their beauty. But she didn't know how else she could say it. It was like her mind forgot every other possible way she could convey her emotions and thoughts.

You're beautiful, she couldn't help thinking. Because he was. He was so beautiful it almost hurt.

The corners of his lips kicked up in an amused smile. "Thanks."

"Where...where you do you keep them? I mean, where...how...?" she couldn't even form a coherent sentence, was simply too awestruck for it.

He chuckled at her obvious inability to speak. "You'd have to ask Kanou-san about the specifics of it. I wouldn't know. All I do know is that when I want them, when I need them, they come out. When I don't, they're not in view. It's instinctual to draw them in and out now, but the younger ones don't start to learn how to do it for themselves until they're a little older."

"Oh," she responded. It didn't really make sense to her, but she got the general gist of it. It made some sense; the kids back at Ayashi House, and the children she saw here, all ran around with their wings out in full display, like little cherubs.

As the absolute novelty of seeing his wings subsided just enough for her to act somewhat normally again, she looked down.

Her heart leaped to her throat, startled and terrified. They were high, so high, too high. The trees weren't individual beings anymore – they were just massive bunches of leaves grouped altogether. She didn't know how high up they were, but when she looked back over his shoulder she saw the silver and brown cluster of civilization that was the city receding farther into the distance, and the rising mountain of his home now a lonely peak. Her arms tightened around his neck, hands clenching a little tighter around his shirt.

"Where are we going?" she asked, swallowing her heart back down to her chest, where it belonged.

He glanced down at her. "Still not scared?"

She shook her head stiffly, trying not to move so much to avoid jostling Shin's grip on her. "I trust you. But if you drop me, I swear I will slap you. And I will get Obaasan to hit you with her cane of mass destruction as well."

He laughed, the sound stolen by the wind rushing to their faces, but not before she could catch it and commit it to memory. Shin didn't laugh nearly as much as she wanted him to. Every time he did was a precious moment that needed to be protected.

"A hill. We're going to a hill. For reasons," he added when she opened her mouth to ask why. She noticed a sadness in his voice, one that eerily reminded her of Kuniumi. "That will be made evident. Enjoy the view until we get there."

She smiled as she looked down at the greens and browns of the forest flashing by under them, and up at the clouds they flew just under. The sky was a sharp blue that almost hurt to look at. It wasn't really close to the shade of Shin's eyes, his were darker, but it still made her think of him.

Birds free-wheeled around them, twittering madly, confused about this huge bird that was flying in their space. The clouds looked like large fluffs of cotton-candy, and not pure white as she used to think, but closer to a sleet grey. They were so close that she felt if she reached her hand up she could touch them. She didn't think it would be too hard to listen to him.

Arms tightening a little as she held on to him, she smiled and said, "Okay."