Ebume, Mutsu Province, 1540

It was summer in Mutsu. There was a cool breeze that ran down from the mountains that accompanied the freezing waters from the north. Birds sang their songs in the trees and animals darted to and fro underneath the cover of the thick canopy that would rain down leaves when something disturbed the thick roof of green. Through the trees wound several paths that converged into one and ended at an old sun-beaten bridge, one that barely saw any foot traffic in those days. A lone monk walked down the barely used dirt path that wound its way between trees and halls and up a small incline that's tree cover thinned the farther along he went. He knew the roads well. He walked them for his pilgrimage every single year to the small town of Ebume.

The town was sleepy and small, and its denizens were distrustful of outsiders and travelers alike. Even the monk, who had come and gone for nearly ten years or better was viewed like an outsider and a trespasser. He never minded. The people of Ebume were isolated and ignored by Clan Nanbu which watched over them. Raids on the town weren't as common as they used to be, but there was still enough of a threat to treat all outsiders with a certain level of mistrust.

He walked along in his finely woven robes and his wooden shoes, his steps accompanied by the thump of his wooden staff on the dirt road as he neared the top of the ridge with a smile. He missed being able to feel the sun and wind on more than just his hands and his face. Wearing his priest's zukin kept even the sun and air from reaching any part of his head. The air was always best in the north, and even though he couldn't enjoy it as he used to, he still took an amount of joy in it. He always enjoyed returning to Ebume, not necessarily for the town itself, but for the temple. Hashi-ji sat abandoned, its mighty statue to Bishamon sitting unworshipped by many save for one rather special friend of his. He stopped when he reached the crest of the hill and a grin came to his face, making his cheek smart where an old scar ran down the line of his face. The town looked pristine nestled against the mountains and the trees, and the temple was nearly hidden amongst the thick foliage as if to protect it from prying eyes. He quickly checked his bag and sighed when he got a good look at his incense. Having been caught in the rain, they were ruined, and he knew what that meant.

He headed down the hill and to the bridge which separated Ebume from the rest of the world, seemingly. His shoes clacked against the wood and his staff head jingled as its metal bottom hit the wood in time with every other step. People looked up when he made his way across the bridge. The children who were playing halted and watched him walk by, the blacksmith gave him a cordial nod before he returned to work, and others stared to watch him pass, including Yunosuke, the town's shrewd and rather nasty mayor. He frowned as he watched the monk pass him and walk up to the door of one house that he knew all too well.

An onmyoji dwelled there, one of the many practitioners of the way of yin and yang and skilled exorcists if you could find one worth their weight in salt. Only this one was a bit of a charlatan. He hated giving him any business, but you had to do what you had to do to please the kami, even if it meant buying incense from a hack.

He slid the door open and found the onmyoji hunched over his small writing desk carefully drawing symbols onto a strip of paper. He was so focused that for a brief moment, the monk thought better of disturbing him, until he remembered who he was and gave a cough that made the man jump and send his brush sliding across the appear, effectively ruining the charm.

"Oh, what now-!" He snapped and caught himself as he stared at the monk, who was standing and watching him from beneath the wide brim of his straw hat. "Oh... Myugou."

"Ujiyo," Myugou gave a smile that was polished and forced. He didn't want to be speaking to him longer than necessary. "I came here for incense."

Ujiyo looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed to think better of it and stood up, going to a small box on one of the shelves nearby, "Is there any special occasion? Purification, perhaps?"

"I can choose the function myself, thank you," Myugou let his hat fall back and rest between his shoulders and adjusted his zukin about his head. "I thought you knew me better than that by now."

The onmyoji didn't say anything as he handed him a small bundle of incense while Myugou handed over a small handful of coins. There was little else to be said, and Myugou simply nodded and went to turn away, "Myugou." Ujiyo hurried after him and stopped at his back. "There's something out of balance here. Regardless of what you think of my abilities now, even you have to feel it, too."

Myugou didn't say a word as he walked out of the house, but he had to agree. Something in the town – nay, in the whole area - didn't feel right in the slightest, though he wasn't sure what exactly it was. He passed through the town with little attention paid to the other townsfolk who glared at him as he passed. His eyes, however, fell upon someone else. Tucked away from the other children and watching him from the side of a building was a young boy. His thick black hair hung to his shoulders, and his eyes watched like a wary animal watching people pass by. He half wanted to stop and ask the boy what had him so afraid before the door of the house slammed open and an old man stormed out. He looked sickly, but when his eyes fell on Myugou there was nothing but hatred that bubbled within them.

"Sen!" He shouted and the boy scrambled up, but before he could even say a word, the old man had him by the collar of his kosode and dragged him into the house, slinging him through the door. Myugou half wanted to step in when he saw the boy fall backward with a whimper and the man slammed the door behind them.

There was little he could do when faced with a closed door that wouldn't escalate the situation. Reluctantly, he continued across the bridge and back towards Hashi-ji. No matter what he did, he could not get the boy's face from his mind. Those eyes... Where had he seen them before? He wasn't quite sure. He paused before a moss-covered shrine where jizo stood watch over the entrance, and he smiled as he closed his eyes and held up his hand to pray with them. He hoped that they watched over the boy in the house and keep him safe, even if there was little else he could do, and once he had sent his prayers to the kami, he turned his eyes to Hashi-ji's winding steps with another smile.

He passed up the steps under a canopy of trees that let the light filter through in ever-changing patterns cast onto the ground by their massive boughs, and he had to marvel at the beauty of the kami on full display in such an odd place. When he finally reached the top of the steps, he grinned as he saw a familiar form pass by one of the windows, "Hashi!" He called out and the form paused by one of the windows and slowly pulled open one of the bamboo curtains to better see who had called its name. "It's Myugou."

The curtain clattered shut and the figure emerged. A massive yokai appeared in the doorway, standing no fewer than twelve feet tall, though he was considerably hunched over when he managed to squeeze himself through the doorway. Two great horns protruded from either side of his head, and four long fangs came from his mouth, two up top and two on the bottom. His pale skin was offset by a black mane of hair that was barely concealed beneath a white zukin that had been torn to fit over his horns, and two yellow eyes twinkled happily when they laid themselves on Myugou. His fine clothes were surprisingly well-tailored, and Myugou couldn't help but chuckle when he realized that his large friend was wearing the silks he had left him last time.

The monk smiled, "Hello, Hashioni."

The fearsome Demon of Ebume, as the locals called him. True, Hashioni was their ancient defender, a yokai who wielded a massive naginata and stood between the town and all of its bandits, but rather than adore him as one would expect, the town feared and reviled their protector simply because of what he was: a yokai, an ayakashi, a demon.

"Have you been making repairs?" Myugou asked as he looked around at the temple. It was in better shape than when he had last seen it. The wood had been repaired and some of the worse-off elements had been replaced or repaired with makeshift tools and supplies. He had to admire the rather wonderful craftsmanship despite that, however.

Hashi nodded and gestured for Myugou to sit beside him on the veranda, to which the monk happily obliged. He liked Hashi, the silent yokai, and he quite enjoyed his company.

"It has been a long time. Ebume has barely changed, though."

Hashi nodded and let out a long exhale through his nostrils.

"Do you... know a young boy from the village? Probably around eight, long dark hair, skinny?"

Hashi considered the question before he nodded, and after a moment he reached down with one of his claws and traced the character of "river" into the dirt.

"Kawa?"

Hashi shook his head in the negative.

"Sen?"

Hashi nodded.

Sen. The boy's name was Sen.

"Sen..." He smiled. Perhaps tomorrow he would try to catch him away from the old man, and perhaps he would find out whether the boy enjoyed tea or not. "He looks familiar, Hashi."

The yokai glanced at him and furrowed his brow with a snort.

"I think... From Kyo. Remember that day? Eight years ago..." He paused and looked up at Hashi again, "I need to meet him. It's the only way I'll know for certain."

Hashi seemed concerned, but he looked back out over the town with a sigh.

"If he is, it might be the best thing for him, seeing what his home is like," Myugou muttered as he turned his eyes down to his hands in his lap. "Poor child. May the kami watch over him and do what I cannot."

---

Myugou stayed in Hashi-ji, and he only emerged when he decided to fish for breakfast. Hashi had gone back to work on the temple again, and with him occupied, Myugou went down to the river with one of the old fishing poles that his friend kept on hand.

After he had settled down by the bank, he glanced over at the nearby legs of the bridge to see Sen. The boy was almost entirely hidden behind one of the piles, and the monk smiled at him. "Good morning, Sen." The boy's eyes widened when he said his name and he pressed himself back behind the pile, allowing only one of his eyes and part of his head to be seen around the wooden post. "No need to be frightened. My name is Myugou. A friend of mine told me your name."

The boy slowly began to let himself round the pile slightly, his eyes still heavy with distrust.

"Would you like to sit with me?" Myugou asked and gestured to a space beside him with a smile. "I could use the company." Myugou watched him as he approached with slow, wary steps before he sat down next to Myugou a relatively safe distance away. The poor child looked ready to bolt at a moment's notice, and when Myugou took a closer look at him he saw nasty bruises emerging from just past the hem of his worn old kosode that looked more like a collection of hastily sewn-together rags than it did an actual garment. "You know," Myugou began as he turned his attention back to the river, "one of my favorite things to do is go fishing. It helps clear the mind. Do you fish, Sen?"

When he glanced back at the boy, he saw that he had pulled his knees up to his chest and had started looking at him again, this time with eyes laden with curiosity. He saw him shake his head, his long black hair moving back and forth over his shoulders like the tide of the ocean over sand.

"Really? In a place like this? An atrocity! Come closer. Let me show you how," Myugou smiled and gestured closer to him, and Sen moved towards him until he was sitting directly beside his left hip. He showed him how to thread the bait onto the hook and how to cast the line out, how to tell when the fish were biting, and Sen watched in awe as he yanked back on the rod and brought out one of the river fish triumphantly and set it in his basket. "I'm meeting with my friend up at the old temple to cook these and have an evening meal," he turned to Sen as the boy watched the fish through the wicker cage. "Would you care to accompany me? You look like you could use a decent meal."

Sen stopped and stared at him, "At Hashi-ji?" Myugou nodded an affirmative and terror swept over the boy's eyes. "No! No, there's a-!"

"A demon?" Myugou asked as he cocked an eyebrow and smirked at the boy's fear. "What if I told you that I was friends with that demon?"

"But... but you're a monk!"

"And? What of it?" He asked as he pivoted his body to look at Sen. "Are oni and yokai not a part of our world as well? Are they not, in their way, creations of the kami?"

"Well..."

"Not all yokai are so horrible," Myugou smiled down at him. "Come and meet him. I promise that he will not hurt you."

The boy seemed to consider for a moment, but when his stomach growled rather loudly, it seemed as though it had made up the boy's mind for him. Sen nodded and stood up with him as he pulled the basket of fish up from the water.

The boy walked beside him, plodding along as they made their way for the ancient steps of Hashi-ji that had long since become covered with a thin layer of moss. He paused briefly at the jizo to say his prayers before he continued up with Sen in tow. The boy was watching all around him as if some beast was going to lunge out and eat him at any moment, and Myugou couldn't help but chuckle. "Relax, Sen. Nothing here will harm you."

Sen didn't seem so sure as he followed along silently for a time before he finally looked up at Myugou, "The people say you're not really a monk?"

Myugou laughed, "Do they?"

"Are you?"

"I am. My monastery is in Mino," he replied and seemed to ease Sen's concerns a bit.

"Are you from there?"

"Indeed. Mino is my home."

"What were you before you became a monk?"

"Now, why do you think I wasn't always a monk?"

Sen didn't reply with words. He simply pointed to Myugou's right hand. The kid was observant. On his right hand was one mangled old scar that reached clear through it. Myugou held it up and chuckled as he looked at it. It was a twisted old pale thing that had long since healed, and much to his delight and long years of practice, even then, it didn't twitch and seize as it once had.

"That happened when I was young," he explained, making Sen's eyes widen. "Men came into my home and killed my mother. They were kind enough to leave me with only this. Now, this," he gestured with his index finger to a long scar that ran down the length of the right side of his face, "this was from a different time."

"How did you get that one?" Sen asked with awe in his voice that he was desperately trying to hide.

"I got it fighting the greatest warrior I had ever met," Myugou's reply gave little and he saw Sen's brow furrow in that typical childish frustration when they didn't get the answer they wanted.

"Were you a samurai?"

"Yes and no."

That seemed to frustrate the boy even more, but the frustration faded away when he saw the temple finally come into view, and Myugou grinned and hurried on ahead as Sen slowed to a tentative walk behind him.

"Hashi! We have a guest with us for dinner tonight!" He called out and heard a thump against some wood followed by a grunt.

Hashi emerged holding something in his hands and looked rather peeved that he had been interrupted, but his annoyance fell when his eyes found Sen, who was staring at him with terror written in his dark grey eyes. Myugou wasn't aware that the yokai could be self-conscious, but standing there in his handmade robes and holding whatever it was in his great hands made him seem oddly small when he curled up slightly under Sen's terrified gaze. He glanced down at the thing in his hands and Myugou strained to see what it was. The yokai took several tentative steps forward and gestured his cupped hands to Sen, offering whatever was curled delicately between his fingers.

Sen moved forward and cautiously looked into his hands before his face broke into a smile and he took what it was from the yokai's claws. It was when it was in his small hands that Myugou smiled. It was a small fish made of folded washi paper. It was a little crumpled, made with ungainly appendages too large for such a delicate task, but it was making Sen smile.

The boy looked up at Hashi with a grin on his face, "Thank you!"

"His name is Hashioni," Myugou introduced him with a smile, "but friends just call him Hashi."

Hashi smiled, a close-lipped thing that covered all but his four massive canines, and sat down on the veranda as Sen took up a spot beside him.

"I like your fish," Sen beamed as he swung his legs back and forth as they dangled off the veranda. He was grinning up at Hashi as if he had never seen such a magnificent thing in his life, and that alone made Myugou smile. "No one has ever given me a gift before!"

That revelation made Hashi and Myugou share a glance before Hashi quickly got up and ambled back into the temple, which seemed to surprise Sen as much as it had the old monk, and before long he had returned with a small wooden box. Hashi thumped down onto the veranda beside Sen and set the box down between them, opening it with the tips of his long claws to reveal that it was full of these small paper animals. Sen's eyes widened as he pulled out one curled on top, a dragon made of blue paper, and he held it reverently in his hands. Hashi pushed the box towards him with a small grunt.

"Wait... for me?"

Hashi nodded.

"I..." Sen stared down at the box with wide eyes before he turned that gaze to Hashi, "I can... have these? They're mine?" The way he had to ask broke Myugou's heart, but watching the boy jump up and throw his arm's around the yokai's neck was worth it. "You're my new best friend!"

As he watched the two of them, the bond he sensed was something unprecedented. It hit him all at once. Those eyes... It had been in Kyo. His first instinct had been correct. He joined them on the veranda as Sen peppered Hashi with questions before he finally laughed, "Now, how about we cut these fish up and make some rice? And Sen?"

Sen looked at him quizzically.

"I have a very important question for you..." Myugou paused a moment and let him anticipate before he smirked, "Do you like tea?"