Again, another thank you to the eloquent and writerly echobodhi for helping me with this chapter. I needed every bit. And hey, leave a review! This one was…. Well, you'll see.

…
"So, what you're saying is, you love her?"

Hitori's simple summation brought a tired grin to Ashitaka's lips, and he nodded wordlessly. He really was too serious sometimes. She looked up at him. Her shoulder now reached his waist — he didn't seem as big anymore. Hitori tossed her head as they walked up the hill together. "So if you love her, why are you scared? Love and fear don't work together," she added, glancing at his from the corner of her eye.

"Hitori…"

"You love her, she loves you, end of story!" she stated matter-of-factly, hopping over a fallen log smoothly. "Who cares if you loved another girl before, San's better, right?" There was no way any other human could compete with San. She and Ashitaka were perfect for each other.

"Hitori… it's a little more complicated than that. I promised Kaya—"

"Yes, that you would remember her! I get it, but remembering her doesn't mean that you love San any less." Why did humans think so much into simple things? He nodded again solemnly, and Hitori looked over at the peak of the hill, at the small copse of trees there. The sun was setting just behind the hills, beginning to color the sky crimson. "She's over there," Hitori stated. He tensed, halting, fists clenching until his knuckles went white. She looked at them, then up at him as her blue eyes went wide in worry.

Why? Why was he so stressed? Even if he had messed up as much as he thought he had, San would forgive him, wouldn't she? She was so much happier now that the other humans liked her more, so why couldn't Ashitaka be happy too? Maybe it really was more complicated... Like when the sad woman had told San about her husband. There was a lot more in her than she had said.

"Ashitaka, why is it so complicated?" she asked quietly. He sat beside her, so she sat as well. He reached out and stroked her gently, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Because I deceived her." His voice was soft, haunted. "You say fear and love can't exist together, and you're right. But there is one thing more dangerous than fear, in a relationship." He met her eyes then.

"Lies?" she whispered, understanding. Ashitaka nodded, moving closer, and pulled her into an embrace. In the back of her mind, Hitori noted that humans really liked hugging things, even if they couldn't hug back. She made herself concentrate.

This was hurting him, deep in his heart, and it had been the entire trip. How hadn't she noticed earlier? "I'm sorry I didn't help!" she burst out, lying her triangular head on Ashitaka's shoulder.

"It's not your fault. Learn from my mistakes, Hitori." He let her go, and stood. "Go now, little one. Please… I must face her alone." Hitori raised herself on all four legs again, looking after him as he walked towards the copse of trees, desperately trying to think of something, anything to say!

"Ashitaka!"

He looked back, hesitating in his path.

"Good luck!" she called. He waved, and she saw a smile try to return to his face. It didn't quite make it.

….

San was sitting on a fallen tree when he found her.

She'd looked so apt when he'd glimpsed her first, small and red and white against the resplendent sky. It was sundown already; soon it would be dusk, and a smattering of stars would appear, winking, above the cresting hills. Back when the old forest had still stood, she'd told him once, she had often gone from her cave, on summer nights, to sleep under the stars. Ashitaka smiled a little at the memory. How much time has passed since? Months, almost— although they felt more like decades.

He didn't greet her — he knew that she had sensed his footsteps; instead he simply sat beside her. San's eyes didn't turn to him; she was looking at her hand, studying the decaying bark and moss on the trunk of the dead, colossal tree.

"They cut it down, but didn't take it with them," she stated thoughtfully. There was no anger in her voice, but a distant sorrow. "Why?"

She looked to him, eyes wide, her other hand taking his. He touched the tree himself, trying to concentrate on her hand, on her voice, on her question. The tree was overgrown, and old, and rotten in the crannies. It must've been a fine tree once –– in another forest, it would have likely been a mother to many kodama. But here, they were too close to humanity.

Lit by the rays of the setting sun, San was beautiful. Her attire was simple now, and her head was bare, free of the imposing crown crafted for her; and yet dangling from her ears hung sparkling rubies, shining like crystallized drops of blood.

She wore a simpler style than what she had worn as Saisana, a relief, but the white-and-red cloth was still much more ornate than the simple dress she had previously worn. His mind had hardly been able to work, much less communicate when she was in that imperious, beautiful form.

The sunset caught in her hair, in her sleeves, in her feathery lashes –– Ashitaka wanted to reach out and hold her, to protect her forever, to bury his head in her sweet-smelling hair. He passed his fingertips over her knuckles, slowly, carefully. She had such lovely hands. If only he could preserve every detail of the memory. San, adorned in red and white, her hair shining, her cheeks glowing and marked red, crystalline blue glinting on her rising chest. A breeze blew and he suddenly caught the foreign scent of flowers -were those magnolias?- on her.

And yet, even with all that was unfamiliar, she still wore the dagger. Kaya's dagger.

He forced words to come, restraining himself. "Humans... don't always consider their actions before they act. It is one our greatest flaws."

"That's not ––" San began suddenly. She turned to him suddenly; her hand drew sharply into her lap, bunched it into a fist. She exhaled. "That's not true, not always, Ashitaka –– I have seen it. Humans think too much, if anything, even Ganzo thinks before he speaks, most of the time." She sighed.

"That's what's wrong with most humans –– they think too much, always using their busy minds, and it stops them from saying what they want, they need to say! They hardly ever say what they want. When they even know what they want." she finished narrowly. He looked at her curiously, noticing the streams of familiarity in her words. She spoke as though she were still a stranger to humanity, but he could hear her frustration. She knew this difficuty.

She returned his gaze, frustration becoming concern. San reached out and took his hand, scooting closer to him. "What's wrong, Ashitaka?

"San, I haven't told you everything." The weight in his heart dropped with every word.

She looked to him, expression fixedly neutral. "I know, Ashitaka. I don't want to hear it."

"I need to tell you now, before everyth- wait, what?"

"I don't want to hear it," she repeated firmly, meeting his gaze.

He was taken aback, running a hand through his hair in surprise. "No, San, you don't understand, I need to tell you before-"

"No, you don't understand!" San shouted. "I don't- What we have, Ashitaka, I don't want it to end! And besides," she stated, trying to retain a sense of dignity. "there's too much to be done, now –– we're so close to your human city."

Her vehemence surprised him, and he moved away, shaking his head in confusion. He could… just not tell her? San looked to him, her large eyes desperate, begging and commanding at the same time. She wanted him… to hide things from her? "Just leave it alone," she pleaded again.

He could smile, apologize for troubling her… and they could continue. And she would never know the truth about the dagger, or Kaya. It would be so easy. Ashitaka could lay this burden down, forget about it, face the rest of his life with her at his side.

That sounded... wonderful. She was wonderful. San had become everything to him. Everything about her… San's other hand came and clasped his in both of hers, leaning closer to him, the simple force of her proximity sending peace and longing through every part of him. Ashitaka's eyes found her face, white hair hanging around her eyes, so strong, yet so full of fear.

The white hair, the scar on her hand… He had seen her frustration at hiding who she was. Her anger, at learning from the woman that had hurt her and everything she knew… She had done so much. And it was all for him.

It became simple, then.

Ashitaka narrowed his eyes in determination. She deserved to know the truth. He had promised her. Something grew from the weight in his heart. It was… resignation. He would accept the consequences of his actions. She had sacrificed for him. It was only fair he did the same.
He would take fate in his hands, even if it broke him. Even if it broke them. He gently unwrapped her fingers from his hand.

"San, remember when you ran from me? After I first told you of Kaya?" She nodded warily. "At that time I promised you something, and you accepted my promise. What was it, do you remember?"

She shook her head mutely, rejecting his words, but he continued. "I promised that I would tell you everything. At that moment, I swore that I would live by truth." He met her eyes, the light of the falling sun illuminating perfectly the anguish in them. "San, I swore that oath too late."

…

San held her own hand. It was clenched into a fist. She had tried to stop him. She had tried because she knew -by their night under the moon- that she wasn't strong enough to hear the answer. She had pushed it away then. She recalled the wind in the trees, the stars overhead, Ashitaka's silvered cheek in the moonlight. She hadn't wanted that night to end.

San of the Moro Tribe had become too human, falling for their words and their fears — for their kindnesses and for their smiles.

She should have known she could not deter Ashitaka. He was as obstinate as Okkoto when he willed it. His truth was inevitable.

He reached out, and gently touched the crystal hanging around her neck, causing a shiver to run through her. "This dagger was Kaya's gift to me. But before that, it was a symbol among my people. Ever since the day I was born, I was expected to grow up to be a Watcher, a guardian and ruler of my people. But Watchers have always served in pairs."

He leaned closer to her, both hands reaching around her neck to untie the crystal. She held her breath as the warm of his hands left her neck, holding the dagger. He held it up between them, the orange light of the fading day sending reflections across both their faces.

"It is a symbol of marriage," he whispered softly. She breathed in slowly, trying to take in his words. "We had been betrothed for over ten years." San's eyes shot wide, mouth falling open.

"Ten years?" she repeated. He only nodded. Kaya had been... Ashitaka's betrothed? San knew enough about what that meant. It was a very serious commitment. Almost married. Bonded, to live your entire life with another. And then he had gone and… given it to her?

Suddenly, Eboshi's question didn't seem so insidious after all. What did she really mean to him?

"Why?" It was the only thing she could say.

"Why… did I give it to you?"

"No. Why… did you make such a promise, if you didn't mean to keep it?" She said this softly, meeting his gaze, but there was a force in the words she hadn't intended. But she would not recall them.

He closed his eyes, pain creasing his features. "I… did not expect to keep it."

"What does that mean? Ashitaka of the Emishi, making a promise he didn't intend to keep!?"

"I didn't know… I did not think…"

"No, you obviously did, or that thing never would have been around my neck. So tell me then, why did you keep this from me? So you could reveal it when it was most convenient for you?" She stood stiffly, looking down at him, eyes narrowing. But she did not let her next words come rushing out. She thought about them. Being a human had taught her that much.

Ashitaka had changed. No, she clarified to herself, her view of him had changed. He was still the determined, pain-ridden young prince that she had first known.

But he was supposed to be better. Compared to all the other humans, he had been so… bright. Like the moon on a dark night, lighting her way home. She had thought him infallible, perfect in every way. And he… wasn't.

San realized something she had only slightly known, in that moment.

Ashitaka was human.

And San, despite her best efforts, had come to know humanity. For all its good, it was bitter, cold, and ultimately deceiving. Eboshi was right… San shook the thought away, and concentrated.

No, Ashitaka was nothing special. But he had pretended he was better than the rest of them.

By his promises, and his seemingly honest words, he had made her who she was. He had encouraged her to be human. She had… changed, resisted the things that her mother, her entire life, had taught her. For what? A deception. He had deceived her, so that she would follow him.

So that she would love him.

San shuddered inwardly as her heart cracked, but somehow, she kept her face cold and serene. "You think you're so good, Ashitaka." He raised his head to look up at her, eyes pained and surprised. She continued, eyes narrowed, mind made. "But I know now. You're just like the rest of them."

He flinched. San waited, for him to look at her in disgust or anger or fear, anything to justify her words.

Ashitaka just put his head in his hands, every movement seeming an agony. "What happened to my San?" She barely caught his desperate whisper.

Flames suddenly surged from the jagged tears in her heart, and her face twisted. "You betrayed her!" San shouted, and he curled in on himself with every word. "You told her that if she would only be human, everything would be better! And now, everything she is, and was, is gone because of you!"

She brought herself to her full height, taking a deep breath. "Stand up, Ashitaka," she commanded, and he looked up at her in surprise. She remained, unmoving, and he obeyed, rising to his feet slowly, eyes downcast.

"Look at me!" she cried, barely keeping her voice under control. Anger thundered through her, overriding the horror at her own words, covering the faint cracking of her heart.

He met her hard gaze, every trace of light gone from his eyes as the sun sank behind the mountains.

"I will do this," San whispered. "I will finish what I started, Ashitaka. I will be your princess." She threw every bit of anger in that one word. "Why? Because I promised, by fire and fang, that I would." She opened her hand and pointed the fading scar at him, and he shook as if she had physically struck him. "And when we're done here, then I will leave. And nothing will stop me."

He moved as if to step forward, expression stricken, but stopped as her eyes narrowed further. Her heart trembled at the pain, the despair in his eyes. But she remained firm. She jerked her head at the dagger in his hand.

"And that? Give it to someone you trust."

San turned away and strode away, heaving breaths, trying not to stagger. She had to leave before she lost control. She tried, with all of her might, not to look back. But she did. Through the shadows of twilight, she saw the boy that had saved her life sitting broken, on the corpse of a tree. Above him rose the crescent moon.

She began to run, shoulders shaking as she broke, tears washing away the elegant marks on her cheeks, dripping red on the leaves under her feet.