Kagome leaned back against the tree trunk and sighed. Sometimes cruelty was the only way.
She had not been kind – but then again, neither was life itself.
Suimei was charming, but that alone wasn't nearly enough to hold Kagome down. She regretted having to abandon him so soon – but who was she to make her own decisions, when she couldn't even remember who she had been?
Suimei had been right when he said that they changed her, Kagome supposed, but he was wrong about her not knowing herself. She knew perfectly well – she was Kagome, she was the Bōtan Miko, and she answered to no one.
Life could be so simple sometimes.
She stared into the air before her and could vaguely see the strands of energy flow through. Gathering these threads was next to uselessness, she knew, but it was worth a try – at least while she pondered the possibilities that lie ahead in her life now.
She drew in a couple of filaments while and spun them around her inner core idly. Who was the girl that was named Itsuko? The way Suimei had incessantly called her by that name disturbed Kagome somewhat – but it also stirred up a curiosity within her. Who was this Itsuko? What were she and Suimei? Allies? Friends? …Lovers?
So much of the past – Itsuko's past – was lost.
Kawata… Kagome could recollect very dimly that the surname belonged to Itsuko – the Kawata clan… the Kawata estate… All of no use to her now.
And what was her own last name?
Releasing the ductile strands in surprise, Kagome realized that she had no last name, that she belonged to no one. She was no longer Suimei's, she was no longer one of the Kawata… she was, as they had made her, truly alone.
The silver-haired man gazed at the slim girl in the mirror and smiled.
He watched her narrow her eyes in reflection and licked his lips with anticipation.
It was all going so well.
Suimei snatched up the blankets angrily and stuffed them into his journey sack. Some were still wet from yesterday's laundering, but that was of no importance now. The thick material refused to fit into the coarse bag and Suimei gnashed his teeth in agitation – as if he didn't have enough problems. He just didn't have the time of day to get mad at a couple of cotton sheets.
What did Itsuko mean that she wasn't herself? He tied the bag closed forcefully and hauled it up to his shoulder, they shared an eternal bond – did that mean nothing to her?
They had been happy once before and they will be again, Suimei promised himself – no matter what those bastards did to her.