"Right, then. Can you find your way home from here?"
The child blinked owlishly, its tiny, slightly sticky hand clutching Mokou's sleeve tenaciously. "Not sure."
Mokou sighed, rolling her eyes. "Just say yes or no. I can take you a little further if needed."
The child stuck its thumb in its mouth. "'Unno."
"Oh, for pity's sake..." There were some disadvantages to escorting people out of the Bamboo Forest, especially when it came to small children; listening to the blubbering of the distressed brats was one of the more pressing ones, as was the constant risk of getting snot on her clothes. The few pros rarely outweighed the cons: a hastily croaked thanks, or no thanks at all, was the usual reward, sometimes punctuated with an embarrassed shake of hands or an uncertain hug.
Indeed, there was little reason to help, and she could claim she had better things to do than to escort snivelling children of ambiguous gender out of the forest — but, truth be told, she didn't.
"Come on, then," Mokou sighed, and took half a step forward. "I'll take you to the edge of the village."
"'Kay." The child now clung to her with both hands. It let out a yawn. Oh brother. Soon, if Mokou didn't watch out, she'd be dragging the child by the heels.
"Let go." She shook her arm until the child reluctantly relinquished its hold, then stooped over. "Get on my back. Better do this before you fall asleep on your feet."
The child made no hesitation before it climbed up, latching onto Mokou's back like a tiny monkey. Mokou hooked her arms around its knees and grunted as the child got its arms around her neck. "Shoulders, grab the shoulders." Fortunately, the child followed her direction and removed the choke-hold, and while it grabbed strands her hair along with her shoulders, it had enough sense not to tug at them.
Mokou sauntered onwards, soon adjusting to the weight on her back; The child was light, and while it was too heavy to be fully ignored, it didn't take a toll on Mokou's strength. She could probably keep going for miles to an end. Not that she would. She would take the kid to the village and no further. She kicked a wayward pebble out of her way and set her sights on the rapidly approaching outlines of human homes visible from between trees.
At the edge of the forest, within throwing distance from the nearest houses, she crouched down, and the child docilely slid down to the ground after a gentle prod.
"Go on, then." Mokou straightened up and made a shooing gesture. "I'm sure you mother's already waiting for you."
The child took a tentative step towards the village, then another. Then, after a moment of hesitation, it turned around on its heels and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Miss youkai."
"I'm not a youkai—" Mokou began, but the child had already scurried away, disappearing into the maze of cottages. She shook her head and sighed, placed her hands in her pockets, and stalked away.
She had only walked for less than a minute when she came across a puddle left behind by a storm the night before. She paused and gazed at her moonlit reflection, the faint smile lingering on her countenance melting into a contemplative look. She took strands of her white hair, gleaming silver in the scant light, into her hand, then looked up at the waxing moon.
"You have done a good deed today."
Mokou instantly snapped out of her reverie. Her eyes darted around, looking for the source of the vaguely familiar voice. A short figure stepped forward from beneath the shadow massive maple tree; a green-haired enma smiling gently. It only took a moment for recognition to set in.
"You..." Mokou placed her hands back in her pockets, unable to prevent a small grimace contracting her countenance. Eiki Shiki. She didn't hate the enma, not exactly, but she acted as a living reminder of less auspicious times. "What do you want?"
The smile on Eiki's face did not falter. "I came to see how you are faring. That is all."
Mokou snorted. "Why? Last time I checked, I wasn't part of your jurisdiction. Or anyone else's, for that matter."
"You are correct. Even so."
Mokou rolled her eyes. "Well, you can see for yourself. I'm fine. What is it to you?"
Eiki nodded. "Indeed. You seem far healthier than when we last met."
When had the last time been, anyway? Mokou could scarcely remember. They had exchanged greetings at the last party held at the Scarlet Devil Mansion, perhaps, but that was it. For all Mokou remembered, the previous time Eiki had sought her out had been when she still wandered around woods with no goal and little sanity, nothing but inexhaustible supplies of fury and flames to keep her from falling into utter despair., when years and decades, even centuries, had become nothing but an indiscrete jumble in her mind, with half realised memories wantonly mixing with feverish fantasies. She had met Eiki several times, there was no questioning that, but whether it had been five real times or twelve, she couldn't say. She had been little more than another apparition that appeared to her in her madness, one of the few she hadn't managed to slaughter in her frenzied state back when her miserable existence had caused her succumb to insanity. She had been a nagging voice of conscience, one that wouldn't cease protesting even as Mokou screamed herself hoarse, even when she had time and time against howled that it didn't matter, it made no difference to her, who cared about her sins when she would never, ever, face judgement for them, and had disappeared only to appear again when Mokou had least expected it.
Mokou looked away, glowering at a nearby tree instead of Eiki. She wasn't proud of her past, but as ashamed of it as she was she would never apologise for it. She could do nothing to alter it, and asking Keine to hide it seemed like an act of cowardice, but neither did she enjoy explicit reminded of all the blood on her hands. Without intention, no doubt, Eiki's mere appearance rekindled sordid memories, visions of blood and flames, and the disapproving glare of those same piercing blue eyes. "Great. You've done what you came to do. Bye."
"Please, wait for a moment still." Eiki advanced daintily towards Mokou and raised the Rod of Remorse to her chest. "Your state has certainly improved since when I last encountered you, but that is not to say all is well. Are you truly content?"
Mokou quirked her eyebrows. What kind of a question was that? "As content as I can be, I suppose. Why?"
Eiki said nothing. She tapped the Rod of Remorse against her lips. "Your karma has improved."
"Enough to erase my sins?" Mokou asked sarcastically. Like she could ever make enough amends, when every day she lived increased her sinfulness.
"No. Still, there is a marked shift."
"Hooray." Mokou couldn't help rolling her eyes again. "No offence, but it really makes no difference to me. Haven't we talked about this before? No matter how much or how little karma I have, I'll never have to actually take responsibility for it. I really don't see what any of my actions have to do with you."
"Naturally, they do not."
"Then why bother?" Mokou turned to leave.
"That isn't to say they have no effect on you."
Mokou hesitated. "What, are you trying to tell me you're going to cast me to Hell even if I don't die?"
Eiki frowned slightly. "Of course not. There is a time and place for judgement, and it is after one's death." Before Mokou could respond snidely, she added: "After a permanent death, that is."
Mokou folded her arms. "Come to beat me up as punishment, then?"
"No." Eiki's frown deepened. "What I meant is that paying your dues for your sins has a significant effect on your well-being, whether you can see it or not. Even if you won't have to ultimately answer for your deeds, your sins still weight you down. Surely you must have noticed? Surely you must have felt the difference between what you felt then and what you feel now."
"Not really." She couldn't clearly remember what she had felt like, anyway: awful, no doubt, but her improved state of being could easily be attributed to wearing clean clothes, speaking to people, and eating more often than once a week rather a shift in her karma.
"Perhaps it takes more time. However, I can assure you that things will improve."
"Oh, you can, huh?" Mokou gave Eiki a pointed look. "And what if I decide after this little talk to go back to what I was doing before?"
Eiki's smile, which had remained firm even when accompanied with a frown, momentarily faltered. Mokou grinned and raised her chin. She was glad for having managed to discomfit Eiki even for the briefest of moments. However, beneath that glee was a dull sense of disappointment which poisoned it, and which she did not understand. Why did that look of worry affect her?
"Of course, I cannot really do anything about it, save for perhaps..." Eiki tapped the Rod of Remorse against her hand. Her frown deepened further, but soon her eyes brightened and her expression returned back to normal. "All the same, Fujiwara no Mokou, I exhort you. Please be mindful of your karma, whether you fear the consequences or not, for your own sake as well as that of others."
Mokou scoffed, but all the same, if she was perfectly honest with herself, she was glad to see Eiki's smile return. "I'll do as I please."
"I am aware of that." Eiki bowed. "Until we meet again, Fujiwara no Mokou."
Mokou looked at the enma's retreating back, puzzled and vaguely annoyed. What was Eiki's deal, anyway? What did she care about Mokou's karma when she would never judge her for it? Hell, what did Mokou care for Mokou's karma? Granted, she did feel better, but with no evidence it was due to spiritual reasons rather than healthier living habits, she had no reason to try to focus on altruism.
She was annoyed, in fact, and growing more annoyed by the minute. Who cared why she did what she did? She wasn't trying to purchase a ticket to Heaven by helping lost souls out of the Bamboo Forest, that was for certain. She simply needed some means to pass the time. That was it. Nothing more.
She sighed, and looked skywards. The first stars had appeared on the sky, glimmering with cold light, a premonition of a harsh winter to come. The crescent moon caught her attention, and she resisted the overwhelming urge to go and punch a certain Lunarian princess, or failing that just about anyone or anything else.
Rather, she looked at the stars again. They too were ancient, far older than she was, but they too would one day die and never be seen again. In fact, Eirin had once told her that when a star died, it would take a long time before anyone on earth would know, because it would still look like it shone for a long time after its destruction. So, not only would the stars be gone, but she couldn't even tell for sure whether the stars twinkling at her right now were dead or alive.
But then again, according to Eirin new stars were born all the time, and there were more stars beyond those visible on this wretched, beloved planet of Mokou's, more stars than there were deaths on the planet earth. And she would be there to witness the very last one be born, and the very last one to die.
"Well, at least you'll still be my companions for some time," she said out loud for no real reason in particular. She put her hands in her pockets and slouched back towards the Bamboo Forest, whistling an off-key tune.