She wasn't like the other children.
Yukina first saw her on her way home, wandering the sparse, snow covered woods of the Island. Dusk was fast approaching, and Rui had asked her to come home before it got too dark and the frosty ground blurred together with the edges of their lofty land.
She had been running, small feet struggling in the knee deep snow, when she'd first spotted her out the corner of her eye. Her first thought was that it was just another of the village children, out late like she, but as she turned to warn them of the late hour, her words froze in her throat.
Who was she? Yukina didn't recognize this girl at all.
She was small, as small as Yukina, but her skin was not pale like the others, and her hair was darker than the midnight blues the skies above would sometimes make.
In her surprise, she stopped. The other girl did not say a word as they gazed at each other from across the expanse of darkening white.
Yukina, ever more curious than her peers despite the Elders' warnings of such behavior, took a step towards the girl. She'd intended to call out to her, but the moment she moved, the girl vanished into the darkening woods.
The response snapped her back to the present, to the darkness creeping around her, to Rui who must be worried. She ran home, a last long glance at the spot where the other had stood.
She saw nothing.
She didn't mention it to Rui.
She came home well after dark, a worried Rui meeting her at the door. She was ushered inside where supper awaited her, Rui's half-hearted chiding following her. They ate in silence. Yukina didn't mind, her thoughts far away.
That night she dreamt of snowy woods and midnight blue.
There were no footsteps in the forest but her own.
She'd gone back the next day, an odd excitement fluttering in her chest. When she reached the spot where the strange girl had stood, she stopped, her eyes gliding over the pure white forest floor, the darkened tree branches, looking for any sign of the other.
Nothing.
She stood there until her legs ached and she had to sit down in the snow. Dusk fell. The fluttering had died down to a dull throb. She went home.
She knew Rui was worried, but Rui was always worried. She'd overheard other adults saying Rui was troubled, that she couldn't let go of the past. It was...distasteful, they said.
She didn't know why.
Rui asked her, eyes pleading gently, why she didn't play with the other children, to which Yukina simply said they wouldn't go near the woods. Rui fell silent after.
Yukina continued to wander the sparse forests.
She didn't mind.
Yukina saw her again.
Again, she was caught off guard, but this time she followed.
The girl was fast, her legs carried her effortlessly through the white, her knowledge of the woods as great as Yukina's own. Hiking her already short kimono up some, Yukina gave chase.
Breaths were coming out in small white puffs, her legs aching. Never had she run this fast or this long. She was rapidly wearing herself out, but she wouldn't stop. She couldn't.
'W-wait…!' It came out as a choked gasp. It was the first sound to be made between them, other than the sound of bare feet through snow. They were nearing the northern edges of the Island.
She stopped when the girl stopped. Her seafoam hair fluttered in the wind, small shoulders heaving, catching her breath.
'Don't go…' It came out in a breathy whisper. Something inside her chest clenched tight, but she didn't understand why.
The other girl remained silent.
Shakily, Yukina took another step forward, suddenly aware how far she'd ran. She had never been this far, no one was supposed to. She meant to call out a third time, the words never came.
Her eyes gazed into her own, her own face looking back at her.
Yukina woke up in her own bed, agitated murmurs from the other room stirring her out of her sleep. She stared confused at the ceiling she knew so well, not recognizing it at first.
The events, the ones she remembers, doesn't come flooding back all at once, but trickles before her eyes like snow. Gently.
Sitting up in her bed, feeling oddly calm despite the almost erratic fluttering in her chest. She touches the spot. It's warm. A new feeling, she's always been cool to the touch.
The murmurs have faded. She hears the front door open and close. Silence.
Rui peeks her head in and their eyes meet. Her eyes are sad.
They're always sad.
Rui tells her about her mother that night. It's not the first time Yukina has heard the story, but it's the first time she's heard it from Rui. It's refreshingly void of scorn.
Hina, her mother, died in childbirth. Most unusual for their kind, she's been told.
Rui talks about Hina, how she was when she was young, how they were close friends, almost the same age. She tells Yukina how much like her mother she is, not just in looks. They both enjoyed the solitude of the forests spread out in gnarly patches on the Island. Yukina soaks it all up, places it gently in her memories for safekeeping.
Rui tells her they buried her under a tree at the outskirts of the village, away from the houses and other graves. In solitude.
Her grave is an unmarked one. Yukina doesn't want to know, but she still asks why.
Rui remains silent.
The next day, Rui takes her to the tree.
It stands alone, a little ways from the rest of its brethren. The snow covered branches sway gently, frozen crystals falling lazily to the ground.
Somehow it fits, Yukina thinks.
She goes back to the northern edge, despite knowing she shouldn't. Something inside her urges her on, and the feeling it evokes will not be denied.
The wind there is much stronger, much colder, she notes. It's bitter. She walks along the treeline, huddling like the cold suddenly mattered to a being born from ice. Looking out to where the heavens and the icy earth meet, she can almost not distinguish them from eachother.
The girl is there. Somehow, Yukina knew she would be.
The girl's back is turned, wild midnight dancing in the wind. No words are spoken this time. The fluttering has calmed to a pleasant glow, the spot still feels oddly warm. She touches it gently.
Even as the hours grow late and no words are spoken, even as the winds are biting, nipping her exposed legs...
Yukina doesn't mind.
Yukina visits the tree again. The urge is even stronger after the last encounter at the edge.
She sits at its base, her hands gently holding the only memento of her mother she owns. The tear gem is cold in her hands, even colder to her warmed chest. The smooth surface catching the light makes a pastel rainbow. She sits there for hours.
She feels a peace she didn't know before.
As dusk falls, she looks towards the treeline. She thinks she sees herself.
'I saw myself in the woods.'
Rui looks at her startled. Yukina doesn't blame her, it sounds odd even to herself. As she waits for Rui to gather her thoughts, she can almost see them flurrying like snowflakes in the pale eyes.
Yukina's eyes have never been pale. Was her mother's?
When Rui doesn't respond, Yukina continues. Same height, same face, same eyes. Rui looks unsure, unsure how to respond, unsure if she should.
Hair like midnight.
Rui looks away.
It tells her more than she thought.
Yukina withdraws to the tree more often.
It gives her a comfort she never knew before. And a solitude she can hide in. Rui never follows her. Yukina doesn't blame her. There's a shame in Rui's eyes that speak of a tale not fully told.
Yukina is patient.
It's well into the night when Rui sits at her bedside. She won't meet Yukina's eyes at first, looking down at her pale fingers clasped in her lap.
She has those always sad eyes, but now Yukina might finally know why. The silence stretches on for many long moments. All sound is reduced to gentle breathing, the rustling of clothes.
Those pale, sad eyes close.
Hina died in childbirth. Giving birth to twins.
Yukina has a ...brother.
The words is unfamiliar, foreign. Yukina doesn't fully understand it at the time. She says the word to herself quietly, feeling it on her tongue, listening to how it rings when spoken.
Rui tells her he was forbidden. They all are. The brothers.
Yukina thinks about the ...brother. The boy, for that is what he is. Was. Her face. His face. There is an aching she has never felt before. Her chest feels almost scorching, she thinks. She has never known a heat like that before.
Rui uses past tense.
Yukina doesn't come home that night.
She sleeps curled between the weathered roots of her mother's tree.
She finds him at the edge. Him. Her ...brother.
Sparks of anger at the cold drop where ice cuts the heavens, stabs her flesh unlike any knife could.
'Follow me.' A plea. A request. A hope. She knows better than to ask for a name. Brothers aren't given names.
She doesn't turn to see if he follows. A part of her is afraid to. There is no sound at her back, but she doesn't stop.
Her mother. His mother. Their mother.
The tree stands before her, unchanged. The branches are all the same, the roots are all in place.
'This is our Mother…' she says out loud, her voice barely above a whisper. She wants to turn, she refrains. There was no need to. He's at her side, so close, closer than she's been to him before. For the first time she can see him clearly.
Same face, same eyes. Midnight sky against gentle seafoam. There's only one set of footprints.
She has nothing to say. Her throat feels tight, like everything she could say is locked away. The ache feels both relieved and intensified all at once. The heat only growing until she is unsure if it hurts her or not.
His hand touches the gnarly bark of the tree. Gentle. His hands are darker, darker than hers. The shape is the same.
Red meets red. Her eyes sting.
The gem slides cooly down her cheek and disappears into the snow at her feet. She clutches at her mother's stone. She can't breathe.
Her name rings out in the vast expanse of white. Startled, her eyes move away for a split second. The moment ends. When she turns back, he is no longer there.
Rui finds her crying, the gems glittering in the light.
Her skin is cool when she touches it now.
She supposes Rui is calmed by it. She mourns silently.
She never sees her Brother again.
