Embarrassingly, she found that she missed him a lot.

He was invading her thoughts, hiding in every corner of her brain –a small movement in the shadows here, a flash of gold there– nothing of real substance, just little things that hovered at the edges of her consciousness. While she was awake she could calm herself down and remind herself to be patient, but her dreams were another matter entirely. More than once she dreamed that he had returned to her courtyard, and she was all aglow with happiness as she rushed into his arms for a tender, friendly embrace. She could almost feel him like sunlight, warm and lovely, remembering the weight of his arms around her and the smell of his clothing.

Izayoi knew what it meant, and recognized the yearning for what it was. She wanted to wish her infatuation away, wished she could undo it, but it was too late. Everyone around her had noticed a change in her behavior; she sighed, stared off at nothing, would find herself suddenly smiling at a memory.

"Don't worry, daughter," her father told her one morning, after the new year had begun. "You'll see him again soon enough."

"Oh," she replied. It took her a long moment to realize that he meant Takemaru, of course. "When do you think that'll be?"

"Likely after the snow melts down a bit," he told her, smiling wryly. "He was more than ready to see you sooner, but he tells me he's otherwise occupied."

She nodded. Even Takemaru couldn't serve as a distraction at this point, which put her even more on edge. At least if he was with her she might have been able to attach to him, instead, or redirect her feelings elsewhere.

Soon, by her account, it had reached almost a full season since she'd seen the Inu no Taisho last. The cold of winter was just barely beginning to relinquish its grip, gaps appearing in the snow and allowing tiny, green buds of young plants to push through. The mornings were still bitter, but in the afternoon she could sit with her maids in the main yard beneath the dormant trees, soaking in the tiny bits of light and heat that hit only the surface of the earth. They all kept her company, laughing with her and making her feel a little more at peace. She'd never actually realized that they were the same as her – young women, perhaps alone and away from their families, and desperate for the companionship.

So, over the course of early spring, the three of them all became friends. Chiyo and Natsuki were actually far more amiable without Nodoka around, watching them like a hawk. Once they were fully assumed under Izayoi's direction, they loosened up a great deal, becoming chatty and fun. Eventually It was like the girls had known each other for years and not months.

"So," she addressed them as they all sat, protected from the chilled ground by an old kimono. "What did you think of me, when we first met?"

The two maids looked at each other, Chiyo's face going pale while Natsuki smirked. They had obviously talked about it before, amongst themselves.

"You won't be in any trouble if you tell me," Izayoi laughed, folding her hands in her lap. "I'm prepared for the worst."

"I thought you seemed a little strange," Chiyo said gently, looking down at her embroidery. "Different? I'd never met anyone like you-"

"You can tell the truth, Chi," Natsuki interrupted, grinning. "We both thought you were spoiled rotten and kind of a nightmare. You never woke up on time! Nodoka was always on our case about making sure you did this and that, but you always got lazy around midafternoon and then we'd get in trouble for it."

"Natsuki! That's awful of you!"

"It's alright," Izayoi giggled, "It's not like I didn't know that I'm heinous. I was even worse as a child, actually, that's why Nodoka hates me so much."

"She doesn't hate you," Chiyo told her hurriedly, "and besides, you've been getting more pleasant."

Izayoi shrugged as though she were modestly indifferent, but secretly the comment made her feel warm and happy. She liked to think that she was improving at least a little, that her efforts to be a better person weren't entirely a waste.

"A truth for a truth," Natsuki said after a moment, leaning in and grinning at Izayoi. "We told you something secret, so now it's your turn!"

Her pulse quickened and her eyes went wide, looking between the two girls and floundering for a moment before finally asking: "What secrets could I possibly have?"

"You have to have some!" Natsuki laughed, "Every living person has at least a few."

"We'll make it easy," Chiyo giggled alongside her, "so I guess it's the same question you asked us. What did you think of us when we first met?"

Izayoi felt immediately relieved, and let out the breath she'd been holding. "I didn't think of you much, if I'm being perfectly honest. I was very preoccupied."

"With what, do tell," Natsuki prodded. "Was it that samurai?"

"Maybe a little, I guess."

"Have you seen him since then?" Chiyo asked, and already her eyes were going starry. Izayoi had picked her out as a staunch romantic, and after evading the topic for weeks she figured she was going to have to talk about Takemaru eventually.

But not today.

"No, I haven't. Father says I may see him again in spring," Izayoi said dismissively, "but I answered your question already, so let's have no more of that."

Natsuki let out a loud, boisterous laugh, flopping back onto the grass and dragging down a surprised Chiyo with her.

"It looks like we've found your secret, miss," Natsuki cackled gleefully. "You gave yourself away!"

Izayoi blushed, and looked down at her hands. If they thought her greatest secret was Takemaru, then she was in no hurry to correct them.

o0o

Time moved like lacquer sap to Izayoi, oozing and languid and in no hurry to cooperate with her desire for movement. While the girls were excellent company, there were certain things that the three of them couldn't really talk about. Izayoi was still their mistress; so try as she might to be their friend instead, they were obligated to keep their topics of choice to gentile things. Which, of course, was better than nothing by a long shot – but still boring at times.

Fortunately for her, now that the snow had mostly melted, word came to the Nanases that the lady of the Matsushita clan was going to come to call. Lady Nanase had let out a rather uncharacteristic, high- pitched wail as she took the letter into her hands, and then rather like an eager child she read it out loud:

My dearest and most honorable sister,

My husband sees it fit for me to take leave of our stuffy little mansion and come down to you for a pleasure trip. I can see that he is ushering me out, due to my bouts of spring fever and tendency towards madness this time of year. He insists that he must 'hold things down' here at home, and so he is regrettably (ha!) unable to attend. He sends his deepest apologies, I am sure.

I have decided to bring my dearest Ayako along, since she is yet unmarried and just as eager to stretch out as I am. I'm sure she will make good company for your Izayoi. Oh, how those little terrors got on in the old days.

I will arrive soon, and stay for the week. Prepare for me.

Sincerely yours,

Matsushita no Tomiko

Aunt Tomiko was a rather high spirited woman. Izayoi remembered her even from very early memories; she was her mother's older sister, who'd always been much stouter in health and more aggressive. Tomiko had married extremely well, and had given birth to a few sons before finally having a daughter who was just a touch younger than Izayoi.

Ayako was at least as spirited as her mother. Izayoi had always recalled liking her very, very much; her manner was blunt and fearless. The two girls had always loved sneaking away with each other to climb trees and run around barefoot, coming back sweaty and muddy and laughing. Even when Izayoi started entering into womanhood, she found Ayako was never childish in comparison but rather like a breath of fresh air, or a kindred spirit.

There was a great hum of excitement as the day of their arrival drew near. Lady Nanase sighed and smiled endlessly, unable to contain her happiness.

"I haven't seen my sister in nearly five years," she told her husband for probably the hundredth time. "Oh, how I wish to see little Ayako all grown up!"

The lord of the house patted her hand and willed her to be quiet. Izayoi felt for her mother, being both pleased at the prospect of seeing her cousin and aunt again, but also knowing the sting of longing. She shot her a secret smile, a hint of solidarity, and her mother smiled back.

Of course, Lady Tomiko's arrival was a boisterous and happy affair. Palanquins at the front gate were borne by eunuchs and a few soldiers and followed by a host of maids and servants. The whole entourage was greeted by the Nanase family, surrounded in kind by their best servants, but for all of the richness of the affair, for all of their class, they were ultimately just two families who had missed each other. Formalities were dropped the second the two women laid eyes on each other; both rushed into each other's arms for a hug, tender and with the sort of sisterly affection that Izayoi found herself suddenly a little envious of. Amidst the chatter, her father hung about awkwardly before finally catching their attention long enough to give proper introduction and greeting. Then, Izayoi spotted her cousin.

Ayako was absolutely flawless, in her eyes. She was tall and fresh-faced, with large, brown eyes the color of glossed wood, lean body draped heavily with fashionably colored silks and ornaments. Though Izayoi was two years her senior, she immediately felt a streak of intimidation and envy – her cousin looked ultra-elegant, refined in a way Izayoi had not yet figured out how to manage.

But, for her part, Ayako didn't seem to notice any difference. When the din had quieted and proprieties had finally been put out of the way, she smiled brilliantly and deliberately placed herself next to her.

"You look well!" she said to her, before pressing her hands to her cheeks in excitement.

"Oh, thank you," Izayoi said, still a little dazed. "And how about you, Aya-chan? You're looking very mature for your age."

"I suppose so," Ayako giggled. "The last time we saw each other we were just gangly little half-women, huh? Looks like we've both filled out a bit!"

Izayoi immediately loosened up. She laughed and poked her finger at Ayako's chest, earning a loud squeal followed by a round of giggles. Lord Nanase looked over at them disapprovingly, but it was ignored entirely, and as soon as his back was turned Ayako stuck out her tongue at his retreating form.

Later, after hours' worth of tea and greetings, they celebrated with a feast for dinner. Between the different bowls of soups being passed around, the simmered winter roots and tender, early spring vegetables, the multitude of meats and fishes, and endless amounts of rice and tea – as well as a healthy dose of sake – there could be no doubt about the family's welcome. What Izayoi found the most interesting, however, was the sheer amount of chatter and laughter. When it was only her parents, things were often quiet. Here, as she talked and joked and soaked in the sheer joy of the energy around her, she came to the conclusion that life otherwise would be unbearable.

Even after the plates had been long cleared, they stayed talking and reminiscing until nearly midnight. The guests were shown to their own rooms, but it didn't take long before Ayako had decided that she wasn't quite finished with some earlier conversations and had snuck into her cousin's chambers. She came in and plunked down next to Izayoi with a little huff. They talked and exchanged secrets and little stories with one another until nearly dawn, and even though they were each tired in the morning, the girls were over the moon to be back together again.

This routine went on the next night, and then the night after as well. Ayako would always go to her own room when everyone else retired and then return to it before the rest of the household had woken up, so nobody was ever any the wiser. On the fifth evening of their visit, their conversation finally turned to marriage.

"I would like to get married," Ayako said, solemnly, as she laid back against the bedding. "The only problem is that no one man is good enough for my liking."

"You're just a bit picky," Izayoi laughed. "But I think you could get away with pickiness."

"Why is that?"

"You're pretty, and your family is in very good standing. You have a few years yet to make up your mind, I think."

Ayako bit her lip and furrowed her brows.

"Well, I guess so. It's just that they come in so many varieties of looks and background and I can't for the life of me choose only one! I'm terrified that I'll decide on one type and that I'll become miserable and end up having a whole string of affairs. Although, I suppose nobody could stop me, if I really wanted to have one."

"Scandalous," Izayoi said in mock horror. "Wouldn't you be able to stop yourself?"

"I would have to, since I don't want to get pregnant. Then everyone would know and I'd be a blot on the family name. How awful that would be!" Ayako said, a little more seriously. "I wish women didn't have to get pregnant. I know for a fact that at least two of my brothers have taken on a whole slew of lovers and mistresses and they never get in trouble with mother or father, but if I so much as look the wrong direction at a man I'm given an earful. That's the only honest reason I haven't started up with men yet."

Izayoi nodded at that, putting her chin into her hands and then sighing.

"What about you, then? I can't believe for even a minute that someone like you would be too proper to consider it, since we're cut from practically the same cloth."

"Oh, no, it's different for me," Izayoi pointed out. "I haven't met nearly the same number of suitors as you have, and I'm the only child in this family. I couldn't risk an affair, even if I felt like it."

Ayako shot up like a bolt, leering. "Are you honestly saying you couldn't think of anyone at all you would put out for?"

"Who on earth taught you to talk that way!" Izayoi shrieked, picking up a pillow and whacking Ayako across the arms. She laughed uproariously and toppled back over, holding her sides.

"You're so red in the face!" she howled. "I never would have guessed you were a prude."

"I'm not a prude! You're just vile!"

Now, however, her blush was fading and she laughed along. The conversation turned to far more interesting things, bits of gossip about who was getting pregnant when they shouldn't have and all of the dirtiest secrets they knew. They talked about literature, about the Tales of Genji and in particular, the more erotic and romantic bits. They talked about human minds and their hidden inner workings. It was all invigorating stuff, like scratching an itch and being overwhelmed by relief. Finally, Ayako gave into her drooping eyelids and chatter-roughened voice and laid down to sleep.

But the earlier conversation didn't quite leave Izayoi, not fully – the issue of affairs and secret meetings hit a nerve that she hadn't expected. Instead of sleeping, she stared at the ceiling and imagined any number of scenarios where she might reasonably be tempted into something like that.

It was, unsurprisingly, not difficult at all.

o0o

For the first time in her life, Izayoi woke up nearly screaming. She caught it in her throat, stifling it before she could wake up her snoozing bedmate. Her heart was slamming away at her ribs, like it wanted to leap clear from her chest and leave her behind. For a long while she sat up in the half dark of pre-dawn, holding her clenched hands to her breast, struggling to breathe evenly. It took some time before she even remembered what she had dreamt about.

It was all vague and hazy – she had been married, living far away in a different home. One moment her unknown, nameless husband was kissing her cheek and in the next she turned from him and stepped into a different man's arms. He made love to her, first with his words and then with his body – and that's when she had woken up.

She debated what she should do. She wanted to talk about it, but it made her feel immensely guilty. Aside from that, there was one detail that gave her pause above all the others: her lover's eyes had been bright gold.

Izayoi choked back a whimper of self-pity, and turned to go back to sleep. In the morning, she was sure she wouldn't even remember that she'd woken up in the first place.

o0o

The visit ended much too soon for anyone's liking – except, perhaps, for Lord Nanase, who had been relegated to sidelines and pushed out of many conversations. The older women embraced, babbling about writing each other more often and keeping each other in on all of the news, while Ayako and Izayoi did precisely the same. Eventually they all parted, reluctantly, and just like that they were gone again.

The lady of the house breathed a deep, long sigh as she watched the little envoy of women and servants depart from the front gates of the mansion.

"I'm going to miss everyone," she said, "the house will be so terribly quiet without them!"

"Yes, dear, it's very sad," her father said, but Izayoi caught a little crinkle around his eyes. He didn't seem upset at all.

Afterwards, it seemed that the women's loneliness had increased to even greater levels than before the visit. Izayoi spent more time around her mother, hoping to emulate the same unadulterated joy from earlier, but to no real success. There were simply too many things she couldn't tell her, and so their conversations weren't nearly as fun or as interesting. Even later, when the princess was with her little group of maids, she tried eke out what little knowledge she could about affairs and desire from their perspectives. But they refused to discuss such vulgar, imperfect things with her, and she refused to elaborate on the details of her feelings anyway. They'd likely assume she was referring to Takemaru anyway. It seemed dishonest and uncomfortable, and so she adamantly refused to talk about men with them anymore.

It left her feeling raw and strange. She sat at her writing desk late one night and wrote a long letter to her cousin, filled with admissions and stories and well wishes, but in the morning she reread the whole thing and decided that she couldn't send it. There was no assurance that it wouldn't be read by someone that had no business seeing it – without the instant gratification of a response, and the danger of her secrets being known, it wasn't worth it. She ripped it to shreds and threw it into the fire.

She felt so painfully naive and awkward in her own body. It was the first time since puberty she'd felt so terrible, like she was itching to get out of her own skin. Nobody could help her, and so she spent long hours locked up in her room, not wanting to be bothered by anyone, trying to understand who she was and who she had become. Parts of herself that she'd always taken for granted were now blaring sources of shame and embarrassment.

In all her brooding, she'd failed to notice something tiny and eager creeping up on her. There was a sharp little pinprick at the thin skin of her neck, and she gasped in shock and reached to scratch it away. What came away on her palm actually caused her to cry out in alarm.

It was a flea. A rather large one, bigger than any she'd ever seen before, but something was distinctly wrong with it – it wore clothes, and its eyes were not tiny and invisible but large and almost comically googly.

"What on earth!" she breathed, poking it with the index finger of her other hand. The tiny creature looked dazed, surprised at having been removed from his lunch so swiftly and harshly.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the princess is, would you?"

She dropped it on the ground. It gave a wiry little holler of alarm, but Izayoi was too concerned about the fact that it was looking for her and that it could speak. There was a beat of stillness before she finally managed to say something.

"I'm she. Who in heaven's name are you?"

"Oh, how rude of me," the little flea said, attaching to her skirt before hopping a little to return to her still open palm. "My name is Myoga! I'm a vassal of the honorable Inu no Taisho!"

Now she laughed, because it seemed wholly absurd. The Inu no Taisho was magnificent, powerful, and to imagine him having such an underwhelming vassal made her shake her head.

"You're… you're so tiny," she managed. "Are you serious, or is he playing a trick on me?"

Myoga put his lower set of hands on his hips and crossed the upper set, in a supreme show of indignance. "He told me to look for someone beautiful and refined, and all I've found is a disrespectful upstart! You are Izayoi-hime, aren't you?"

"Yes! I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you," she finally said, shrugging and still smiling brightly. "He called me beautiful and refined? Tell me, Myoga-san, is he feeling well?"

"My lord is doing just fine! He only asked me to come to see how you were faring in his absence."

Izayoi felt a little prickle of endearment – he had never sent a messenger for her before. She stood up a little straighter, smiling now.

"I'm well, thank you. What on earth has he been doing all this time, if you don't mind me asking?"

The little flea hedged.

"I don't know if I'm really allowed to divulge my lord's activities, at the moment. But he wanted me to let you know that he intends to make a short visit before he's finished, likely before the moon cycle is through."

"So soon?" she said airily, trying not to betray her excitement and pleasure. "Well, then, let him know that I'll be anticipating his arrival. Was that all, Myoga-san?"

"Actually," the flea muttered, "I have a request of you."

"What might that be?"

"I need a bit of food before I return to my lord's side. It's quite a journey!"

She tilted her head in curiosity. "Of course. Is there anything you'd especially like?"

"Ah, well," he said shakily, peering up at her almost nervously. "Fleas require blood for sustenance."

Her face drained of all color and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out except for a squeak.

"I… I suppose you could…"

"Wonderful!" he squeaked, wasting no time in jumping back up to her neck and poking the skin. She flinched but endured it, considering that for a demon, he seemed completely harmless. When he detached, he puffed a contented sigh and thanked her graciously.

"A gem among humans," he complimented, "such delicious blood! And beautiful, too! I can see why my lord enjoys your company, hime-sama!"

Izayoi blushed and wished him well, before sending the little oddball on his way. She settled in.

So he was to return before the end of the moon cycle. It would be a boldfaced lie to pretend she wasn't beyond excited – she also knew that once she saw him, her heart would be light. It was only his absence that caused her pain; when she was with him she always felt like she could breathe easily, even when he was annoyed with her, even when they had little disagreements, no matter what. She came back out of her shell, ready for the evening when he would tap on her door and take her away.

Only it didn't happen at night, this time. It was in the middle of the daytime, one warm and sleepy sort of afternoon, when Myoga hopped up onto her shoulder and told her she should go to the forest-front gates.

"Is he here?"

"Yes!"

"Now?"

"Go and see," Myoga laughed, before bounding away. Izayoi stood up from where she'd been reading, creeping through the house and trying not to be seen. She grabbed her sandals from her room, carrying them in her hands to avoid making any noise, and then the moment she thought the coast was clear, she bolted.

It felt a lot like the day she'd gotten lost. She had to force herself not to laugh out loud and she ran, her robes and thick hakama dragging on the ground behind her. Outside, it was a little easier to avoid getting caught, and she ducked around the guards and slipped out through the gate.

"Taisho!" she cried, flinging her arms around his waist, mindful of his armor but so glad to see him that she completely ignored any thought of this being a rather too familiar way to welcome him. He returned it, though, arms dropping to her waist and pulling her tighter against him.

"Izayoi," he said, looking down at her. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."

"Oh, never mind it! I'm just glad you're back again," she told him. "Although I can't imagine what you were up to, since Myoga wouldn't give any of it up to me."

"So the flea made good on his word? Excellent, I was afraid he wouldn't reach you."

"Is he really that bad of a vassal?" she asked, pulling away from him a little, before slipping her arms out from around his middle.

"He's the worst, and he knows it. But he's a been a friend of mine for years now, so I'll continue to put up with it."

"I'm sure you also knew that he was a shameless flatterer, then?"

The Inu no Taisho's face went pale. "What did he say?"

"He called me beautiful, elegant, refined, said I tasted good…"

"I should crush him!" he sort of barked, looking distinctly peeved. "He has no decency at all. He's always doing that, you know. He likes pretty girls the best, so he says the most ridiculous things and I'm still trying to break his bad habits-"

"Pretty girls?"

He shrugged, and held up a hand to inspect it, like he was feigning disinterest. It was a miserably failed attempt.

"By his standards, of course, not mine." He must have realized belatedly that it was a horrible thing to say to a young woman, because he attempted to correct himself quickly. "I mean… not that you aren't, but I think I meant that he just gets distracted too easily."

"Does he," she said, smiling up at him. "I'm curious, though, why are you here for me now instead of at night?"

He appeared to welcome the change in subject, smiling broadly and taking her hand in his to pull her along behind him. She clutched it, her cheeks warm as she tried to keep up with him.

"I don't have long, but it's better than nothing at all," he told her. She glanced up at his face, and realized she'd only seen him in daylight a handful of times; with the dappled sunlight hitting him he looked different. His eyes met hers.

She laughed out loud, mostly a nervous reaction from being caught staring.

After a moment or two of walking, he veered off of their usual path. Izayoi wondered where they were meant to be going – just as he took her over an old, grassy knoll. She had been here only a few times in her life before, but it was way off any beaten paths and not well known to the villagers in this area. She had to wonder why.

It was beautiful. Over the crest of the hill, there was a basin like space with a large pond in the middle, surrounded on all sides by long, weedy grasses. Tiny spring flowers were peeking up between the spaces of green, but by far the most striking feature were the cherry trees, heavily laden with masses of buds and blooms.

"We won't be seen?" she asked breathlessly, coming down the side of the hill and taking it all in.

"Not at all," he told her, a sly grin on his lips.

Izayoi's heart was lifting, ready to burst. She laughed, though it was mixed partway with a shout as she took off running. It was on impulse, but the air whipped through her hair as she ran and floated through her silken clothing and made her feel like she was flying. Beneath the canopy of a cherry tree, she kicked off her shoes and felt the bare grass on her feet. Her joy seemed suddenly endless.

At some point he must have caught up to her, though she couldn't decide when. The Inu no Taisho leaned heavily against the trunk, sending a flurry of little pink petals down upon her upturned face. She flung out her arms to receive them.

"Do it again," she cried, shutting her eyes. She heard him chuckle, before giving the trunk another great shove. It caught in her hair like little pieces of snow, and dizzy from trying to catch them all she gave her top robes a great heave and laid them out on the grass so she could sit, leaving just her kosode and hakama. In a huff, she laid down across the layers and layers of fabric, hair splayed in a mass of tangled black around her.

"Are you alright?" he laughed, crouching and leaning over her. He was backlit by pink and gold, fuzzy from her unsteady vision.

"Mm, it's only spring madness," she said dreamily. "I got so tired of being cooped up all winter that I couldn't help myself."

"I know what you mean." He tugged her upright, sitting beside her and then pulling leftover petals out from her hair. For a moment they sat in pleasant quiet, her eyelids fluttering closed softly as he ran his fingers through her hair for any last bits of debris. The touch was intimate, endearing.

When her eyes opened again she noticed something she hadn't before: there was a new sword stuck through his obi, where before there'd been none. It was a rather peculiar looking thing, a sorry excuse for a weapon, the wrappings around the hilt frayed and shredded and the sheath dull and banged up.

"Taisho," she asked, "when did you get that?"

"Hm?"

"That sword?"

He tapped the hilt with his claws absently, as if confirming her question. "Since I saw you last. I didn't know you took an interest in weaponry."

"I don't, but I'm curious about this one," she shrugged. "It's… a bit sad to look at, if I'm being honest."

To her surprise, he laughed and untucked it from its place at his side. "Take it out," he instructed, still lit with amusement.

She did as she was told, gripping the sheath firmly and giving it a quick tug. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't what she found: a rusty old katana, nicked and missing chunks of steel here and there. It was, in short, the ugliest thing she'd ever seen.

"I'm glad the spell works," he murmured, watching as she turned it over in her hands and experimentally ran her thumb over the blade's edge. It was so dull that it couldn't even cut through her skin.

"What do you mean by spell?"

"Here," he said, and took it from her. His eyes slid shut for a moment, he took one deep breath, and then… it changed. The plain old blade transformed in a flash of light into a massive, broad bladed weapon. In his hands it was a totally different object; even the metal seemed magical and strange, in one moment silvery like metal and in the next, pale as bone. "Tessaiga's appearance is meant to deceive the untrained eye."

"That's its name? Tessaiga," she said, in awe of it. "Why does it have a spell on it."

"It's very powerful, in the right hands," he explained, sheathing it. The massive blade disappeared into the narrow wooden case, snug, its true power hidden once more. "I haven't tested it yet, but I was told that it could slay a hundred demons on the spot. There's a… bit of a learning curve there."

"Is that why you left?" she asked, moving in closer to him.

"Yes." He leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him so that his body formed one long line. "There are still secrets I haven't begun to fully understand. Totosai told me-"

"Totosai?"

"Ah, the demon who forged Tessaiga for me. He's an old friend," he said, before returning to his train of thought. "He told me it might take some time before I figure out how to put it to best use, but I'm not bothered by that. I think it won't be much longer, now."

"And what did you have it made for," she pressed, "if you already have a sword, and you're already so powerful?"

He looked distant for only a moment, his gaze tender. "It isn't really for myself."

It seemed cryptic; she wondered if perhaps he meant it to be a gift for his son, as an inheritance or something. She didn't think too much of it, beyond that, though imagining him giving gifts of such value warmed her.

"But I'll leave it there," he finally said, tilting his head at her. "There are still some secrets I'm keeping for myself. What did you do while I was gone?"

She shook her head, clicking her tongue in mock annoyance at him. "You are a master at evading me, aren't you?"

"I've gotten very good at it."

"Horrible man," she giggled, swatting his leg. "I had visitors while you were away. My mother's sister and my cousin, Ayako, actually. It was so much fun that I nearly forgot about you!"

"I'm glad to hear it," he laughed, raising and eyebrow and not taking her bait. "Elaborate."

Izayoi settled in, telling him all about their visit and about Ayako, talking about her mother and aunt, and how she wished they'd never had to leave. She talked herself nearly raw, and by the time she finally finished up the sun was low in the sky.

"I should return you before people start to wonder where you've gone off to," he said at last, standing and stretching his arms over his head. She pulled herself up, shaking out the grass from her robes and trying to slide them back on in mostly the correct order. Izayoi didn't even notice him pulling something from one of the trees, before taking her hand and leading her home.

The whole way she felt content and unseasonably warm, and when he stopped at the forest's edge she blinked as though waking from a dream.

"There are guards everywhere," he told her. "Getting back in may be a bit of a hassle. I think I may have to leave you to your own devices this time."

"It's alright," she said softly. "If anyone asks I'll tell them I was viewing the blossoms. That's true, at least."

"Here's something that might help," he replied, holding out a thin branch of cherry flowers for her. She took it, her face heating up, the scent of them as sweet and delicate as honey.

"Thank you." She looked down at them, not meeting his eyes, her slender fingers picking the petals off of one flower. "When will I see you again?"

"Soon," he said soothingly, reaching for her and tipping her chin with a finger. Her breath caught short in her throat, suddenly aware of him and of herself and of the flowers, clutched in her hands. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Izayoi."

"I'll see you then," she chirped, her voice forced.

She turned away, walking back onto the mansion grounds without looking back at him, her heart thundering in her chest. There was chatter all around her, first from the guards and then from servants, and finally her parents, all asking her why she would disobey them after so long without a single incident. Nobody asked her about her cherry blossoms, or about the blush staining her cheeks.

o0o

It was sometime after dark, when she'd placed the branch in a little vase on her writing desk and started to settle in for bed that she realized what was happening to her. He had come during daylight hours, simply to see her and speak to her, when it could have waited for a few more weeks. She hadn't told him about her talk of marriage, or about her dreams, or about how she craved him like air or water. To her, he was sunlight, the harbinger of spring and of liveliness, but he was also cool moonlight. He was everything in the world, all at once.

But at the same time, he was only a man. Strong and powerful, perhaps, but emotional and real as though he were a human. She wanted to tell him every story in the world. She wanted to fall asleep beside him, knowing that she'd be safe the whole night through. She wanted to feel his fingers running through her hair again, to hear his low, deep voice telling her of his life's journey. She wanted, more than anything in the world, the safety and pressure of his arms wrapped tight around her little shoulders – or his lips pressed against her forehead, her cheek, her own lips.

Izayoi wanted him.

(edit as of 9/7/2016:

I added a lot of new stuff to this chapter... over 1,000 words, I believe? I'm pretty happy with it though.

obi: a sash that gets tied around the waist
kosode: a shortish sleeved kimono, in Izayoi's case, on of the bottom layers of her whole getup
hakama: wide legged, split "skirt" (pants?)
Tales of Gengi: one of the first novels ever written.

From what I understand, the cherry blossom season is usually around late March to early April, if anyone was wondering about the timeframe.)