A/N: Completed for a 2000 word challenge.
I looked out over the valley as she stood next to me. It was New Year's Eve, our first together since she returned. From our perch at the top of the temple steps, we could see the lights of her village flickering dimly at us. Clumps of snow clung to tree branches like cotton.
"Mochiyuki," she told me.
I frowned. "Mochiyuki?"
"It's what that kind of snow is called." She pointed to the trees below us. "The Japanese have different words for different kinds of snow. Mochiyuki is one of them."
A smile touched my lips. Recently she had become a font of knowledge pertaining to her heritage. I supposed it was an aftereffect of her induction as the master of Kurain Village. "I always thought snow was snow. I didn't know there were different kinds."
She looked at me with a surprised glow on her face. "Sure, there are! There's shissetsu, which is 'wet snow,' and there's seppen, which is 'snow that comes in large flakes.'"
"So it's like 'hail,' or 'sleet?'" I asked.
She leaned her cheek against her hand as she pondered her answer. "Kind of, but it's more descriptive. Mochiyuki means 'mochi snow.'"
I turned my eyes to her. "Isn't mochi rice cake? The kind that you like to eat?"
She turned to me with a smile. "Yup! So mochiyuki is 'snow that looks like rice cakes."
Ah. Of course she would think of food even at a time like this.
She was the same person standing there in the moonlight, but different. The years had only made her more refined; the New Year's ceremony back in the village was proof of that. I had quietly watched from the back of the Meditation Room as the acolytes preceded her exit from the Channeling Chamber at the start of the ceremony. When she appeared, I took note of the long, flowing robes she wore and the white hood that obscured her eyes from mine. Her hands were solemnly posed in prayer as they marched in slow, even steps. When the chanting started, the mantra burst forth from her now plush lips that were once lean in her youth, in a resonant voice that was once loud and boisterous. The master of Kurain Village was the same, but different.
"I didn't think you would make it," she said at the end of the ceremony. She slipped the heavy robe off her shoulders and handed it to an acolyte-in-waiting.
"And miss New Year's?" I had given her a lopsided smile in my awkwardness. "It's been two years since we spent New Year's together." Her heavy, ornate robes made her seem unapproachable.
I felt the blood drain from my face as she silently studied me. I felt as though I was being appraised—sized up, as though my presence in front of the master of Kurain Village was being questioned. I felt uneasy at her stoicism; she had never been shy of showing her emotions, a trait of hers that I had grown fond of over the years. I never had to guess what she was thinking. I never wondered. It had always been plain to see.
She suddenly leaned forward and gave me that familiar, knowing smile. "Nick. You must have missed me, didn't you?"
And there she is. That's the person I know.
"What other snow-related words should I know?" I asked.
We stood next to each other at the top of the steps as we took in the view, her arm grazing against mine. The shrine behind us was dark and silent. Soon other members of the Fey clan and the villagers would be on their way to celebrate the coming of the new year at the temple and to pay their respects to Ami Fey. The lights and revelry would brighten even the darkest corners this side of the forest. In some small way, I was glad for the moment of silence our early departure from the manor had afforded us.
"Kogome yuki," she said after a moment. "'Snow with small flakes,' but it literally means 'snow that looks like grains of rice.'"
I softly laughed. "Do you know any other snow-related words that don't have anything to do with food?"
A frown flashed across her smooth brow as her cheeks puffed in indignation at the implication. "Are you trying to tell me something, Nick?"
I cleared my throat as I tried to straighten my face. "Of course not." I paused as I watched the frown on her face fade away. She was quick to scold, but quick to forgive—just as she always had been. "And why are there so many words for 'snow,' anyway?"
"There just are," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Haiku poets would use them in their poetry." She gave me a knowing glance. "You can hardly describe how beautiful and peaceful snow can be in five or seven syllables, can you? It's a good thing there are so many words for snow."
I caught her eyes shifting towards me, but as I faced her she quickly looked away. "Why are we talking about snow?" I asked.
She pursed her lips and continued to look out over the valley.
Of course she would. Even the master of Kurain Village could be shy sometimes.
"Do you know the story of yuki onna?" she had asked me. She had always been full of stories, even in her youth.
We had decided to leave the manor before the villagers could dissipate after the ceremony. I listened to the sound of snow giving way beneath our feet with each step. She walked beside me in quick steps to match my stride.
"I'm sure you've told me before." I tucked my face into my scarf to hide my nose from the chill of the evening.
"There are a lot of legends about yuki onna in Japan," she answered.
I bent a snow-laden branch away from me as we continued up the path. "Tell them to me."
She turned to me with that familiar smile painted across her lips. "Yuki onna means 'snow woman.' She's a youkai who looks just like a beautiful lady and she lives in the mountains where snowstorms make travelers lose their way. And when they do…." She quickly turned to me, her teeth bared and fearsome in the moonlight. "She steals them away and eats their soul!"
I could have feigned fear to appease her attempt at scaring me, but I quietly laughed instead. "So this beautiful woman shows up out of nowhere in the middle of a snowstorm?" I shook my head with a smile. "If you believe that, you probably deserve to get captured by her."
"Don't underestimate her powers, Nick," she chided, visibly disappointed that she hadn't frightened me. "She's a powerful youkai, mysterious and haunting. It's said that travelers fall in love with her the moment they meet her." Her white robes fluttered behind her as she walked.
I gave a little sigh as I turned my eyes upward. The clouds opened to reveal patches of the sky. Stars shone brightly in the gaps. "What does this yuki onna look like?"
She pursed her lips in thought. "She's a young woman who has long black hair and deep, dark eyes. People say her skin is as cold as ice."
I chuckled as my boots slogged through a patch of heavy snow. "I thought you were describing yourself for a second."
She stopped and turned to stare at me. "Well, my skin isn't as cold as ice."
I brought my hands to her cheeks. They had lost the roundness of youth in the two years she spent away. "Feels pretty chilly to me."
Her face started to warm under my hands. I unraveled the scarf from around my neck and gently wrapped it around hers. "I told you to wear a heavier robe. You'll catch a cold."
She frowned as her cheeks puffed out slightly in indignation, just as they always did. "I've trained under waterfalls and on top of blocks of ice in mountain caverns. I think you need this scarf more than I do."
Despite her words, she hiked ahead of me with the scarf still wrapped around her neck. Her geta kicked snow at me as she walked. I smiled to myself as I quickened my pace to catch up with her.
"Hey," I called out to her. "You haven't finished telling me about the youkai onna."
She slowed her pace and looked at me over her shoulder. Her breath turned to mist and rose into the cold air. "Yuki onna, Nick." She smiled. Quick to scold, but quick to forgive. She'd always been that way.
I caught up to her. "Yuki onna, then. You said there were many different legends about her."
She nodded. "Yuki onna isn't always bad." Her voice grew quiet. "Sometimes she falls in love with someone and they live out their lives with each other."
I stared at her as we continued to walk. Her eyes were fixed on the path before her, her cheeks red with the exertion of hiking through snow. Her form shifted gracefully beneath her long robes. The awkward jauntiness of her movements had disappeared with maturity. The woman before me was the same, but different.
Woman. I turned away and chuckled softly to myself. I've never called her a woman before.
The flicker of lantern lights drew my attention to the path below. The villagers were winding their way up the slope towards the temple and the sound of their voices rose into the eaves of the evergreens. It was almost midnight. Our reverie was nearing its end.
"Koyuki," she said suddenly, her eyes fixated on the villagers below. "It means 'light snowfall.'" She tittered nervously. "That doesn't have anything to do with food."
My eyes rested on her. She hadn't answered my question. Same, but different.
"And miyuki," she quickly said. "It means 'deep snow,' but it can also mean—"
She paused as my fingers brushed against hers, her mouth slightly open as the words rested upon her lips.
"Beautiful," I said as I looked at her. "Beautiful snow. I know that one."
She lowered her face into my scarf as she continued to stare out over the valley she'd lived in her entire life—a valley as mysterious as its legends and stories made it out to be, as curious as its inhabitants, as constant as its master. I turned away from her and followed her gaze; the villagers were ascending the steps to the temple. I felt her fingers interlace with mine as we watched the lights of their lanterns approach.
"Happy New Year, Maya," I whispered.
She smiled as she finally turned to face me. "Happy New Year, Nick."
