Boop.

Although fall hadn't quite set in for the rest of the world, it always came early in the Village of Gods and Demons. A small shiver crept its way down Yuki's spine as she hiked the trail that led to the only place that had ever really felt like home. Tall trees with bark like grave bones dripped blood red leaves onto the gray-brown earth below, the scent of their decay sharp and pungent as they crackled underfoot. Nestled in the valley between two short mountains, the village suffered from rolling mists most of the year as the clouds made their way up the range. It was an ancient place, formed long before the foundations of the first buildings in Getsu were made. Many of the structures were in poor repair; their retaining walls crumbling, shingles missing from rooves, warped wood, and cracked plaster went as far as the eye could see.

To an outsider, the sight of the village would harken something out of a ghost story. It was a hidden little decrepit oasis; no one could possibly live there. And yet, they did, spitefully so. Most of the founding clans were dead or dying out, Yuki's clan being no exception. The only family that seemed unfazed were the Tsukimori. Although there was bad blood between her and her late husband's clan, Yuki wasn't worried about them. The villagers were all her people. When she was a girl up at the shrine, it was she who tended their wounds, performed the rites for their dead and dying, and prayed over their ill. If the Tsukimori wanted to start something with her they would be well advised to do it far out of sight.

It was early in the morning; the sun had not yet broken the horizon. The fog was thick, dense, and nearly waist high. Yuki moved through it surefootedly. Nothing in Kami to Akuma ever changed, even the footpaths. Besides, it was in these streets Yuki frequently found herself wandering in her dreams, searching for answers in the mist. As she entered the town proper it was clear all the inhabitants were still asleep. Curtains were drawn tight against the morning chill and the sleepy streets were deserted. Yuki knew someone would be awake, the telltale sound of metal on metal nearby confirming her suspicions. She approached the great blacksmith's forge silently. The sight of Toramura's lean but impossibly strong limbs bringing the hammer down on the anvil sent Yuki back to her childhood. It brought a smile to her face. Toramura, as if hearing her muscles pull, looked up at her. Eyes ablaze like the flames behind him beneath wiry brows, his gaze almost seemed to bore through her. Yuki's smile only grew.

"I always wondered when you would wander back into town." Toramura lowered his sinewy arm but kept his hammer in hand.

I can't blame him. Who would know what to expect from the risen dead? "You don't seem surprised at all." Yuki raised her hands in a gesture of resignation. "You could at least look impressed."

"Who would be impressed by a wolf wandering back into its birthplace?" Toramura watched her cautiously. "We always expected you were a halfling or some such. When your father wandered in from the mountains all those years ago, the men wanted to put him down. We were sure he was a trickster who had seduced your mother."

Yuki looked around, savoring the familiar air of home. "Funny how no one tells you these things till you're an adult."

"I'm telling you because you show up almost fifteen years after your death looking not a day older." Tora gripped his hammer tight. "So, either you're a halfling or a Shinigami."

Yuki's vulpine smile returned. "Sorry, Tora. I'm not here to bring you to the other side today." She held up the official scroll. "Just to deliver the summons, I'm afraid."

Tora's gaze fell on the seal. After a moment of silence, he nodded. "I'll gather the other village elders."

As he took off his apron and laid down his hammer, Yuki felt a strange nostalgia taking over. It was a sensation she had nearly forgotten: being feared and respected in equal measure. Tora stepped through his gate and gave Yuki one more look. "You can remain here by the fire until I return."

"Blessings to you, Toramura." Yuki's voice took on its old formal tone.

"Is the source of that blessing holy or demonic, priestess?" Tora stared her down.

Yuki shrugged. "The line on that is rather blurry, don't you think?"

Tora shook his head and left Yuki standing out in the open, a ghostly figure in the fog.

…

The village elders, absent Seiichiro's older brother, took Yuki's arrival much the same way Toramura did. Ishida had been right. If Yuki had been a more sensitive person, she might have been offended with the almost annoyed way they addressed her. "Oh, you're back," they said. "What do you want now?" Tsukimori Daichiro had remained mostly silent, his gaze upon his sister-in-law nothing shy of searing. A muscle twitched in his jaw as Yuki spoke but blessedly, he held his tongue. As for the rest of the elders, they responded similarly to the news that the shinobi world was going to war as they had to Yuki returning from the grave: gruff grunts, sighs, and one emphatic "this shit again" that almost drew a chuckle from her lips. When the meeting concluded, which had taken less than enough time for Yuki to finish the cup of tea she had been offered, Toramura strolled up to her.

"So, what now, winter-one? Blowing away with the fog just as quickly as you rolled in?"

Yuki shook her head. "I need to go to the shrine. The Tsukiyama are being called to war as well." She took a sip of tea and shrugged. "Besides, I'm curious to see how my old home has been holding up under Reika's leadership."

"Not well." Toramura folded his arms. "Strange things are afoot there. I can't give you specifics but no one has dared travel there for some months. Most of the old priestesses have either passed away or left. The only one of them we see anymore is Ren and she only comes into town every other week for supplies."

Yuki cocked an eyebrow. "Alright, you've convinced me. Now I definitely need to know what's going on."

"Whatever deity you're tied to, make peace with them." Toramura gestured towards her. "In case we can't find a body to bury. The last thing we need is you skulking around this place as a spirit."

"I promise I won't haunt your forge," Yuki laughed. "I've got better people to pester."

"Do you still have the gauntlets?" He asked. "It might not hurt to have some steel on you."

Yuki reached into her pack and extracted the trusty pair. Toramura took them reverentially and turned them over in his hands. His eyes traced the metalwork, his expression darkening every moment. "I used to think these were my best work."

"They've never failed me in a fight." Yuki smiled. "They served my daughter while I was away as well."

"They're crap." Toramura shook his head. "It looks like an amateur made them."

"They are nearly twenty years old, Toramura. I imagine you've improved," Yuki offered. "I'm just letting you know even your old work stands its ground even today."

Toramura looked down at the metal in his hands and was silent for some time. "Let me take these."

Yuki nodded, offering no argument. "You forged them."

"I can't let you tell people that, not when they're this garbage," He rattled the gauntlets. "It's an embarrassment to both of us. When you come back down from the shrine they should be ready."

"What will I owe you?" Yuki asked.

Toramura shook his head. "Nothing. This is the least I can do for letting you run around with a set of pig stickers for twenty years."

Yuki nodded in agreement and bowed in thanks. Toramura left without another look at her. It was nothing new; the villagers had always been a hard lot. One by one they had all filed out, save Yuki and the last person in the world she cared to talk to: her former betrothed. Daichiro stood there, staring down at her with pure hatred. The eldest of the Tsukimori brothers was nearly as tall as Seiichiro and slightly taller than Yasahiro had been. He was the darkest of the brothers but his hair was the fairest: olive skinned and snow white hair with eyes the color of iron. He shared Seiichiro's strong jaw and fondness for top knots and traditional dress. While his younger siblings had their own unique appeal, Daichiro lacked any. Yasahiro had lacked the raw animal power of his brothers but made up for it with charm and wit. Seiichiro had his morality and the determination and resoluteness of a brick wall. Daichiro was mean. He was cruel and took no precautions to conceal it. He walked around with the inflated ego of an entitled heir, beating his horses and intimidating his servants. Yuki hated him almost as much as Seiichiro had. A flicker of a smile passed over her face when she observed how naked he looked in his clothes. The armor that had been his birthright was only a city away on her daughter, who had followed in her father's footsteps by absolutely trouncing Daichiro's son. For a long time they stood there in silence. Yuki brought the tea to her lips and after tossing back the dregs, set down her cup.

"Is there something I can help you with, brother of mine?"

"Animals don't have siblings." Daichiro sneered. "Neither do witches, for that matter."

Yuki shrugged. "Call me all the names you want. It doesn't change anything, Daichiro."

"Shouldn't your daughter have been the one to bring us the news, seeing as she is ambassador and all?" Daichiro had a way of speaking his questions like statements. Everything he said came out like a growl.

"My daughter is busy with preparations for war." Yuki grinned. "Besides, I hadn't seen home in nearly fifteen years. I missed it."

Daichiro let out a dark laugh. "It didn't miss you. No one missed you."

"I've proven time and again not to give a single crap about what any of you people think." Yuki cocked her head. "Don't project your own insecurities on me-"

Daichiro slapped the teacup beside her onto the floor, coming aggressively into her space. "I don't have the patience for your game, woman."

A dangerous smile spread across Yuki's face, unfazed by his display. She stood her ground against his intimidation. The air around them slowly but noticeably began to cool. "I don't play games, Daichiro. 'Playing games' means there's a chance I lose."

"You had better mind your business while you're here, Yukihana." Daichiro spat. "Just because you're some freak who ate her twin don't think you can just sail in here and do as you please."

"Are you finished posturing or what?" Yuki cocked her head. "As funny as this is, I have places to go."

"Posturing?" Daichiro's voice dropped low.

"Yeah. It's what all the sad little orphans clinging to their daddy's legacy do." Yuki reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, making a point to flash that it was Seiichiro's favorite brand. She lit up and smiled, smoke billowing from her mouth into his face. "The only reason you run that clan is because you were lucky enough to be born first. That's where it ended, I'm afraid. How's prison life going for your deadbeat son?"

"Shinichi isn't in prison," Daichiro glared. "The only reason he was arrested in the Cloud was because your daughter was sleeping with that sandy creep, the Kazekage."

Yuki shook her head, a laugh on her lips. "No, it was pretty public how your son tried to murder her in a hospital bed. You know, because she mopped the floor with him and just like you, his ego is easily bruised-"

Daichiro wrapped a massive hand around her throat, choking the words. Yuki felt his grip tightening. "Don't you dare talk about my son-" Daichiro screamed.

"You have three seconds to take your hands off me before I shatter your fingers." Yuki's voice was low and calm, despite the strain on it due to the pressure on her larynx.

Daichiro's grip remained. The skin of Yuki's neck dropped to an impossibly low temperature. The rapid change caused instant discomfort in his fingers, stabbing his flesh like pins and needles. Her eyes milked over in a cadaverous gaze. Yuki's skin paled until the blue veins stood out bright as the blue sky. Their breath came out in clouds and the color faded from her hair. Within seconds, where there had once been a beautiful young woman, stood the Yukionna. She was the reckoning of Kami to Akuma, its horrible legendary protector. The sight of her turned his stomach. Daichiro had seen what she did to the marauders twenty years ago; in the mountains, they were still finding the occasional shin perfectly preserved in clumps of ice. It set his heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through his system. Daichiro's body sensed the imminent danger and his hand released her instinctively. The moment his hand was free, Yuki plowed her knee into his groin. Daichiro sputtered, the motion dropping him like a sack of potatoes. He leered up at her, his eyes watering and a scowl on his face.

"You like to play with your food, wolf?"

"You aren't worth killing, Daichiro." Yuki stood and walked towards the door. "I would say 'see you on the battlefield', but we both know you're too much of a coward to go and fight yourself. I guess I'll see whoever you pay to stand in your place."

The door slammed shut behind her. Daichiro was left alone in the meeting room with only his shame and humiliation for company. He hated her. Daichiro hated that woman with every fiber of his being. He despised Seiichiro as well but not as much as Yukihana. The brothers had never really gotten along, but Daichiro was convinced that Yuki had been responsible for the final break. She had turned them against one another and tore the family apart. If she had done her duty, married Daichiro, and kept with the main family line, his daughter would be the Burned Maiden. Perhaps he could have forgiven her somewhat if Yuki had relented and allowed their children to be married. If she had only surrendered to Daichiro's authority, either then or now, his clan wouldn't be in the dilemma it was in. Seiichiro's daughter, the Burned Maiden as well as an ambassador, was a much more fitting candidate for matriarch than his son was for patriarch. With no union for the two in sight, it was threatening to split the family in two. Daichiro feared his son would inherit the smaller piece of the wishbone. He had almost resigned himself to this, that his heir had simply been too weak to carry on the family line. Seeing Yukihana alive, feeling that old deep hatred stirring again had reset his resolve. He would destroy Seiichiro's family. Daichiro would put both Yukihana and her little whore daughter in their proper places by taking away everything they ever held dear.

All the pain had passed, aside from the throbbing ache he knew would persist for a few hours, so Daichiro rose. He took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his brow. He was a patient man in times like these. It would benefit him immensely if he let Yuki and her daughter think that they were safe, that they were secure, before he brought the hammer down on them. So much sweeter would be their surprise and anguish. Daichiro headed out the door for home, ready to sit down his son and start preparations for the final demise of the descendants of the Asou.

…

Daiske shook his head, leaning on his broom as he waited for Beki to finish dusting the shelves. "I can't believe you're getting married."

"Well," Beki chuckled. "Believe it."

Daiske rolled his eyes. "It's just...don't you think you're a little young?"

Beki paused, rag in hand, chewing her lip as she looked for the words. "You know, somehow I always knew I was going to get married young. I guess my dad being in politics, I expected to get sold off. In a way, I feel like marrying Neji is going to save me in the end."

"Then it'll be impossible for you to get sold off," Daiske nodded. "I get it. Not that I think Ishida is the type-"

"It's never been dad or Ishida I worried about." Beki glanced at him. "We have a king, you know."

Beki stretched her hands up high and then leaned deeply to the left and then to the right.

"Still travel sore?" Daiske asked, taking her rag and setting the broom against the wall.

"Yeah, I haven't made a trek like that in a while." She walked over to her father's armor stand and started to unfasten herself. "I feel like I'm packed into this thing from the bloat."

Daiske shrugged. "You've got a lot against you. Different altitude, more moisture in the air, that big ass salty dinner you had last night…"

"You sure you don't mind helping?" Beki asked as she laid down on the couch, her feet up on the arm.

"No," Daiske shook his head. "It's good seeing you again. Even if that means I have to do some manual labor, I'm down."

Beki grinned. "I know. Once Ren gets here, it'll be like old times."

"Not really." Daiske was still smiling as he dusted, but it was a stale smile, like he had been waiting too long for someone to take his picture. The muscles strained to keep the shape but the arch was caving under the pressure. "We can't ever go back, you know? As good as the old times were, everything is changing. Ren's going to be a priestess, you're getting married...It's never going to be the three of us picking blackberries off of wild bushes out on hikes with Kobiyashi sensei, playing hide and seek in graveyards, or sneaking into movies we're way too young to see. We might still see each other from time to time. Our bonds will keep us friends but we aren't kids anymore."

An understanding silence fell between them. It was the ugly truth of growing up: responsibility and distance pulling apart friendships, other relationships pushing friendships further down the priority list, personal independence overwriting the seamless cooperation of a good squad.

"What are you going to do, Daiske?" Beki asked.

He shrugged as he dusted a shelf of books. "With you getting married, that leaves a junior ambassador slot open, right?" He smiled to himself. "I wouldn't mind getting out of here and seeing the world."

Beki echoed his smile, albeit with a little sadness. "It's a beautiful world out there. You see some ugly shit on the road...bandits, burned out towns, gutted animals...Everything else is totally worth it, though. You see villages carved out of cliffs, waterfalls as tall as a building, sleepy seaside towns. The people you meet, the food you eat, the stories you hear," Beki's voice trailed off as she sifted through her childhood memories. Before she could finish her thought, Daiske interrupted.

"Do you think I could do it? Be an ambassador?"

Beki nodded. "If Ishida teaches you. He could teach a fish how to be a good ambassador."

Daiske sighed. "You're right. I'll...I'll talk to him about it."

"He'll give you the fourth degree. Just don't cave. Ishida will want to make sure it's something you really want and not just a whim," Beki explained. "This job is his life and he'll expect you to treat it the same."

After a moment, Daiske resumed his dusting. The two sat in silence, enjoying the gentle sounds of the wind outside and voices on the street.

"Does Neji treat you well?" Daiske broke the silence at last. "You guys seemed like pretty good friends, but...dating is different."

"Yeah," Beki said. "Neji watches out for me. He's saved me more times than I can count, gets on my case whenever I'm doing something stupid, always makes sure I'm fed-"

"You make it sound like you're a dog," Daiske laughed. "Is that really all there is to it? That's all it takes to make you happy?"

"It doesn't sound like a lot but it is," Beki explained. "To have someone that just understands you completely. You never have to lie to them, to never have to hold anything back...to completely be yourself. It's a blessing that I've never had before."

"You're lucky then," Daiske said as he picked up the broom. "I don't think that's something a lot people ever get."

Beki shrugged. "Hey, maybe you'll meet someone at the wedding."

"Who says I want to go?" Daiske put a hand on his hip in mock indignation. "I mean, to travel all the way to Konoha to have some dry wedding cake and awkwardly bump shoulders with all your friends over there seems a little unreasonable."

"It wouldn't be dry cake," Beki laughed. "My mother would flay them alive. This is going to be some over the top shit, Daiske. If she has her way, there'll be a live band and a champagne fountain."

"Well, if there's booze," Daiske grinned. "I guess I'll go."

Beki furrowed her brow. "Daiske, should I invite Bo and Yuu?"

"What?" Daiske screwed up his face. "Are you crazy?"

Beki shrugged. "You know, to be all 'no hard feelings'?"

"You know Shinichi didn't go to jail, right?" Daiske asked.

Beki sat up. "How?!"

"His daddy got him out of it, same as always," Daiske explained as he swept. "You know how he always walked around looking like he just ate a bad lime? Well, now Shinichi looks like he ate a frog."

"Maybe his face finally got stuck like that," Beki stood and walked over to the coffee pot, dumping out the grinds and rinsing the mesh filter in the sink. She spooned some loose tea into the filter and replaced it in the pot. Her mother would have had a heart attack, seeing Beki make tea that way. This was how Seiichiro always made his tea, and being in his office, it only seemed right to follow his example.

"He wants your job." Daiske kept his eyes on the floor. His words sank in and a sick feeling gripped Beki's stomach. She looked around the office, at all the reminders of her father.

"No," Beki shook her head. "He would ruin everything!"

"That's the other reason, I'm going to go for it, Beki," Daiske looked up. "I know I don't have your family's pedigree and I know I don't come from money. The last thing this village needs is for Shinichi to be representing us, that's for sure."

Beki set her jaw. "Whatever I need to do to help you, Daiske, I'm game."

…

The hike up to the shrine filled Yuki with an anxious excitement. Initially, Yuki had been eager to go just to revisit all her favorite childhood spots. To walk down those ominous halls, knowing they would seem so much smaller as an adult. Yuki wanted to smell the lake water, hear the whisper of the wind through the trees, to sense the calm that she remembered presiding there. After talking to Toramura, however, Yuki was becoming interested in its inhabitants.

Growing up on the shrine, there had been maybe a dozen priestesses of varying ages and at least as many attendants. There were three main buildings to the shrine. The largest and most opulent of the three was the shrine proper. It contained the shrine in a main hall, iron bells, sacred ropes, and all other holy relics in alcoves along the walls. Off the main hall were smaller ceremony rooms and the rooms of the head priestess. Beneath the shrine proper were the archives. It was a catacomb-like space with ancient scrolls, books, and artifacts that didn't quite have a place in the room above. Behind the shrine proper was a deck onto the lake they used for special ceremonies, dance practice, meditation, and the occasional summer nap.

The smallest building was the servant's quarters. It housed the kitchen and storehouse, as well as the spartan but comfortable accommodations for the attendants. Yuki had always been welcomed there, her hands were never swatted away from cooling cakes and the cooks made small snack sacks packed for her whenever she went out on an excursion. It was the one place on the shrine Yuki was never expected to do anything. Why would a future head priestess need to dirty her hands with chicken livers and fish bones? Yuki laughed at the thought. That was the one place she really should have put the most time into.

The third building was within sight of the main shrine. It housed the rest of the priestesses, their belongings, a few smaller private prayer rooms, and guest rooms for prestigious visitors. Yuki had spent most of her life in that building, sleeping in a room with all the other priestesses, being dressed by them and having her hair combed. The room they all shared for sleeping was subdivided with great screens. The youngest priestesses were furthest from the door, then another subdivision, and then the eldest priestesses were closest to the door. The logic was the elders were most likely to be called out in the dead of night to attend to shrine duties. Yuki always liked the privacy of being in the corner. The older priestesses had always been kind, if not a little wary of her. In those rooms Yuki had been taught to sew, weave, play koto and shamisen, calligraphy, poetry, and how to take care of herself. It had always helped having a friend to giggle with when the elder's backs were turned.

Reika. Yuki winced at the thought. Years ago, she had thought the pair had buried the hatchet between them. After Beki's birth, Seiichiro and Yuki had made the pilgrimage back up to the shrine to have Beki blessed. Reika had been delighted to see them. She had a feast prepared at their arrival and had doted on them constantly. Ren had just been born a few months before. Reika had been taking care of her and was happy to have a crib mate for her little sister. Ren was such a tiny thing and had seemed sickly, but when Beki was with her she always slept soundly and ate like a horse. Just like us, Reika had said. In the years that followed, Seiichiro would take time off work and their little family would travel up to the shrine for a few months. When he went on long deployments, Yuki would stay at the shrine with Beki until he returned. Things were never the same between her and Reika as they had been in their youth, however. Reika was always a little restless around Yuki. There was a look in her eyes that said there was something she was desperate to say.

Perhaps it was spite that kept Yuki from giving Reika the chance. She had forgiven Reika for her betrayal but that didn't mean she wanted to go back to how they had been. Thanks to all the training Yuki had received as a shinobi, honing her already inhuman senses, it made it nearly impossible for Reika to ever have a chance. Yuki's trick was to never be alone with her. She bathed with Beki and the other priestesses, climbed through windows if she knew Reika was waiting at a door. It may not have been kind or polite. Yuki didn't care. It was easier to keep things civil between them if there was never a chance for them to fight.

Then Yuki had been frozen. Maybe Yuki's feelings about the whole situation would have changed if Reika had stepped up. If she had truly been sorry for what she had done to Yuki all those years ago, upon her "death", Reika would have helped raise Beki. She would have taught Yuki's daughter everything they had learned, told her all about her mom, given her more options and opportunities in life. Instead, Yuki woke up to a daughter who vaguely remembered her from her childhood and no knowledge or understanding of who or what she was. And that pissed Yuki off.

When Yuki crested the hill, however, her mind went blank. What lay before her in no way resembled the home she had known and loved. Instead, in its place, was the stuff of nightmares. The paths were overgrown with all sorts of underbrush, dry and brittle barbs, nettles, and vines. The trees hadn't been trimmed back in some time, their branches reaching out towards Yuki like grasping hands. The sunset, instead of giving the place a warm inviting glow, made it look bathed in blood. The buildings had a formidable, ominous air to them, like they were haunted and condemned. Shingles were missing and the roof had partially collapsed on the main hall. The wood on all the buildings was discolored and cracking. Yuki approached cautiously, dodging the foliage as best she could. There was an unsettling silence about the whole place, too. Not the reverential, "this is sacred ground" kind of silence. It was a sentient blanket, stifling even the sound of Yuki's footsteps as she walked. Graveyard quiet.

The door to the priestess's quarters was off its track. If anyone wanted to enter, they would have to tug at it and squeeze through the small gap between the door and the door jam. Yuki bypassed the building. Her instincts were guiding her, feet following an unheard call. She was headed right for the main hall. The steps creaked dangerously with each step, the deck worn and warped enough to make Yuki stumble at the top. The great doors were open, the collapsed roof casting a ray of crimson light like a spotlight on a lone figure in the room. It smelled like mildew. The roof must have collapsed some time ago and the rains came through for it to smell so musty. The sacred rope that hung above the urns looked half rotten. The iron bells that hung on either side of the rope were in no better shape. The one near the collapsed roof was orange with rust and the other had fallen, smashing through the floor and lying there helplessly ever since.

Yuki recognized the person as Reika. She was on her knees before the three urns that held the remains of the Maidens. She was holding herself, softly mumbling and rocking gently back and forth. As she neared, Yuki noticed one of the urns had cracked and had been hastily patched up with what looked like glue. Globs of it bubbled the surface of the lines; it looked like a child had made the repair. Yuki scoffed. Reika stirred at the sound, slowly turning with an expression like a frightened doe. She blinked in the bright light, confusion wracking her face. "...Yuki?"

If not for the black, bruise-like bags under her eyes and the dirt on her face, Yuki would have to say Reika had aged well. She was nearly forty but her face was still smooth and blemish free. She had let her black hair grow like mad. The girl had always been vain about it, wearing it down past her waist even as children, but now it pooled around her like ink. Yuki imagined when she walked, it must have trailed behind her like the train of a dress. The confusing thing was her hair was pristine. Walking around here and outside, it should be full of leaves and rubble. Reika looked thin, like she had recently started to lose weight. She still looked healthy but the bones at her collar and her cheeks were slightly pronounced. The amber eyes turned upon Yuki were sharp but distant, as if she were perceiving a threat somewhere behind Yuki. Her clothes were threadbare, repaired dozens of times and slightly discolored from use.

"What happened here, Reika?" Yuki looked around. "This place looks like a hell hole."

Reika said nothing. Her eyes were still glued to Yuki, as if trying to detect if she was a hallucination or reality. "Was there another plague? What the hell?" Yuki waved in front of her face. "Hello, Reika, are you in there?"

Reika grabbed her wrist and held fast, a look of surprise on her face when Yuki didn't disappear at her touch. "You really are real."

"Yes, and I'm talking to you." Yuki yanked her arm away. "What. Happened. Here?"

Reika shook her head. "It…it started a while ago. Maybe last year? The older priestesses were the first hit. They started having these horrible nightmares. You know how the elders were, they didn't dare tell us what it was. They went through cleansing ritual after ritual, staying up all night praying at the shrine, begging for it to go away."

"Okay, then what?" Yuki folded her arms.

"They started dying." Reika looked up at her pleadingly. "Horrible freak accidents. One by one, we found them drowned in the tub, the stove exploded on one, and…" Reika's voice trailed off as she looked over at the bell wedged in the floor. Yuki's gaze followed. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the light, she noticed black-red stains on the metal. "You get the idea."

Yuki shook her head. "I don't understand. You're telling me everyone is dead or gone because of a couple of accidents?"

"No, they're either dead or gone because it was spreading. The nightmares were, like a virus." Reika rose off her knees and began to braid her mass of hair as they talked, from the crown back, the way they were taught to as young girls. "Before the first three died, they had confessed that they felt like they were going to die soon. Some of them had premonitions, you know, but it was so odd we just chalked it up to the nightmares. And they couldn't describe how they were going to die. It was always something general, like, 'I really shouldn't be cooking today' or 'Maybe I shouldn't bathe for a while.' But then they were dead. And they had died doing what they had said they shouldn't be doing."

"So they foresaw it." Yuki shrugged. "Big whoop. Did that really freak everyone out so bad?"

Reika sighed and nodded. "The thing is, Yuki, that the next set who started getting the nightmares...they wouldn't tell me about them either. It went on for weeks, waking in the dead of night to hear screams coming from the priestess's bedroom. Then, one day, they each came to me one by one without consulting one another, and said they needed to leave."

"Had they foreseen their deaths?" Yuki cocked her head.

Reika nodded. "They all refused to speak of it. They simply packed their things and left. It was quiet for a while. Then the attendants started claiming strange things were happening to them, as well."

Yuki rolled her eyes. "They all had visions and quit?"

"No," Reika dropped her voice. "Things started to go missing. Ancient things kept tight under lock and key. The odds and ends that aren't on the books. You went crawling around in the underbelly of the archives enough to know what I'm talking about."

Items of less repute, either stolen or of questionable origin, were kept locked up in the archives. Things people had claimed had belonged to the Three Maidens, valuable banned tomes, and so on. Yuki may have pilfered one or two of the smaller, less harmful seeming trinkets. The hairpin she stole was probably still in a jewelry box at her house in town. "So we had some thieves," Yuki offered. "They noticed all the priestesses were leaving, knew there were more gaps in security, and swept through."

"That doesn't explain the accidents, Yuki. Or the…" Reika cringed. "Omens."

"What kind of omens?" Yuki asked.

"Things flying off shelves, cabinets knocking themselves over, doors slamming shut. And voices." Reika explained. "They said there was soft laughter, always sounding like it was coming from another room. Then, they all claimed that at some point or another they had heard someone speaking right in their ear-" Reika held a hand over one of her own ears. "Whispering all their terrible secrets back to them. The handyman hung himself in the shed over it, Yuki. He wrote all over the walls 'make it stop make it stop' over and over again." Reika shuddered.

"So all that's left is you and Ren?" Yuki looked around.

Reika nodded. "It...it started happening to me a while ago. About eight months, I think. I woke up in the middle of the night, swearing I heard someone call my name. Then the dreams got more," Reika rolled a hand on her wrist as she searched for the word.

"Graphic?" Yuki offered.

Reika snapped her fingers. "Yes! In one, the shrine is on fire, another one, a huge tsunami has hit the island and we're all under water. Bodies, clawing their way out of the grave and grasping at me." She clutched her belly and shuddered. "They're always calling out for 'mother'. I don't have children, Yuki. I keep waking up terrified that I'm going to be pregnant or something!"

Yuki shook her head. "I don't think they're talking to us."

Reika blinked. "Yuki….you...The dreams, you've been having them, too?"

"I didn't die, Reika," Yuki explained. "I was trapped in ice." Reika opened her mouth to ask but Yuki shook her head. "It's neither here nor there why or how it happened. I was just locked in there for twelve years. I thought I was dead or in purgatory or something. I could hear voices, generally perceive light, that sort of thing. I had no sense of time or space. Something woke me up." Yuki tapped out another cigarette from her pack and lit it with slightly shaking fingers. "I haven't told anyone this. I thought it was just my imagination."

Reika paled with realization. "You heard them call."

Yuki nodded, taking a deep draft on the cigarette. "I thought it was nothing, you know. I've always had the dreams-"

"But your sight was the strongest out of any of us!" Reika hissed. "How long was this going on for you?!"

Yuki shook her head. "It's never obvious, Reika. It's not like one of the skeletons in my nightmare comes up and says, 'Yuki, XYZ is going to happen and it will happen at this place at this time'!" Yuki groaned in frustration. "So, head priestess, what the hell does all this mean? Why can none of us sleep and your people are all killing themselves or getting the hell out of dodge?!"

"They're coming, Yuki," Reika's voice shook as she spoke, her eyes darting behind her toward the urns.

"What are you talking about, Reika?" Yuki narrowed her eyes. "You realize how bonkers you sound, right?"

Reika took a deep breath and steadied herself. "There were things they kept from us, Yuki. Things that only a head priestess is told."

Yuki folded her arms. "And you're going to share it all with me now?"

"It seems pretty foolish to keep it all under wraps when no one is left," Reika looked up at Yuki, her catlike amber eyes clouded with worry. "At this rate there might not even be a shrine left to protect."

"You've piqued my interest." Yuki took out her cigarette and her finger hovered over it, ready to tap off the spent ash. She looked around for a proper receptacle but Reika sighed.

"Go ahead. It's not going to hurt anything. This place is already a dump."

Yuki almost looked pained as she tapped ash onto the floor, put the cig back in her mouth, and puffed.

"So, the big lie we were told," Reika gestured to the urns. "Is that the Three Maidens passed away and that's when the counter styles were built. The truth is," Reika squared her small, feminine shoulders. "The Three Maidens never died."

"Bull." Yuki spat.

"You just crawled out of the ice after a twelve-year nap and you have the balls to say 'boo'?" Reika cocked an eyebrow. "Come on, Yuki."

"You got me." Yuki smiled. "Go on."

"So, apparently the Three got a little too ambitious. They don't go into a whole lot about the details on why and how," Reika explained. "I was just told that the counter styles had been developed by their children in secret and that they were used to capture and imprison the Maidens."

"But even if they were buried alive they would be dead by now," Yuki offered. "No worries. The dead can't hurt us."

Reika started to walk toward the entrance and motioned for Yuki to follow. She had to drop her strides to half to account for Ren's smaller gait. As adults, Reika came up just past Yuki's shoulder. "Again, I don't get the specifics. The main point was that as they were locking them up, the Maidens claimed they would rise again. When they did, they would be acting as horseman for the apocalypse."

Yuki flashed a conspiratorial smile. "Ooh, apocalyptic prophecies? Those are always so fun. So, who are they heralds for? An elder god crossing onto our plane of existence to consume all life? A series of natural disasters that resets the earth to its natural, pre-peopled state? The gates of hell opening and spewing out legions of the undead?"

Reika swatted her. "No, Yuki. I don't know who they serve. The old writings are very cautious. They believed there was power in words, in what was said and what was left unsaid. If you spoke of something, you gave it power. If you struck it from our language, it was another way to keep it bound."

"I can believe that to an extent," Yuki put out her cigarette under her shoe and tossed it in a planter to pick up later. "It just makes it pretty damn hard to prepare for an enemy we don't even have a name for."

Reika was leading her deep out into the forest. It was dark and the woods were thick. There was enough moonlight breaking through the branches to light their path, however. The atmospheric light and their memories would serve their footing well enough. "Where are we going?" Yuki looked around. "There's nothing out this way, Reika."

"There is." Reika sighed and looked up at her apologetically. "Sorry, Yuki. This is another one of those Head Priestess Only type deals."

Yuki rolled her eyes. The two walked in silence for a short time, absorbed in their own thoughts.

"How...how is Beki?" Reika asked.

"You wouldn't know, would you?" Yuki scoffed.

The hurt was plain on Reika's face. "What is that supposed to mean?'

"Thanks for picking up the ball for me when I died," Yuki spat. "Did a real good job of making sure she had a mother figure."

"What could I do, Yuki? Train her to be a priestess?!" Reika glared. "She didn't want it. Her dad didn't want it. I don't have a lot to offer the outside world." She gestured to the woods. "This is my domain and Beki wasn't that interested."

"You knew about me. You could have told her about her mother," Yuki stared off ahead. "I came back and I was a stranger to her."

Reika fell quiet and bowed her head for some time. "How do you think I felt about your death? Did you ever consider that it might have been too painful for me? To help raise your daughter, to tell her about you, to pour out the fountain of my memories?"

"I don't care how painful it would have been, Reika, it was the right thing to do," Yuki glared. "This is the difference between us: you are weak. You cave in to whatever selfish whim you have, never doing the right thing and always taking the easy way out. The only person you are loyal to is yourself."

Reika stopped dead as if she had been slapped. Her brow furrowed, her eyes watered, and she opened her mouth to respond. Instead, she clapped her jaw shut and blinked away the tears. "We're almost there."

The clearing they approached was one Yuki was familiar with. It was a break in the trees leading up to a steep wall of rock where the mountain continued its way up to the peak. There was nothing special about it; no upturned earth or suspicious carvings in the rock. Reika made a few passes with her hand and muttered some words.

It's a seal release, Yuki noticed. It was funny how her time in the ninja world had solved some of the mysteries of her youth. Here, Reika was using ninjutsu and probably wasn't even aware of it. Seams carved themselves into the rock, hinges appearing out of nowhere. Yuki gasped. She was looking at a door.