(28) Light
The golden line breathed, and this was literal, because as Yoki looked more closely, squinting his eyes and shaping his hands like binoculars, he saw that the organic bodies of the mushi congregated in the river, pushing past each other and flowing together like water.
Silently, a hand placed itself on his shoulder, tugging at Yoki's blue kimono. He jumped, nearly screaming at the appearance of a hand that wasn't supposed to be there. He turned to see who it was, and it was Nui, in a plain kimono that was pinker than her usual fare, smoking from one of the white papers that she rolled herself.
"I know it's pretty, but don't stare at it for too long," she warned. "It'll hurt your eyes."
"The mushi?" Yoki wondered out loud. "So they can even be something as mystical as this... What are they really like? I don't know anything about them."
"Explaining them is..." She sighed. "Fine. I will tell you what my master told me many years ago."
"They're... Simple yet mysterious. Distant ancestors unlike any plant or animal we've ever seen," Nui held out a hand to let one drifting mushi curl around her thumb. She gently held it out for the boy to touch it, who, although cautious, did. Even if it's strange there but not-there texture make the hair on the back of his neck rise. "These groups of odd creatures have induced whispers of fear among man since ancient times. At some point, a name was applied, and they were called mushi. And that is how they have come to be." Nui lifted the centipede-like mushi up into the air, and let it float away into the glowing, golden river. "It's time to go home, Yoki. Open your eyes." She held out a hand, and he placed his in hers without hesitation. Gently, she grasped his smaller, darker tan in her white palm, and pulled him away from the river.
Yoki spared one last glance at the river, taking in it's shining beauty. And then he opened his eyes, and the river wasn't there anymore. Only the dark forest, with the path home illuminated by the yellow light of Nui's lantern.