Chapter 9

She was drifting downward, submersed in something vast.

The sensation of cold and warm mixed in her chest; at one point she realized she was bleeding, but there was no pain.

It was a strange thing, this place, and the farther she sank, the warmer it became.

As the heavy dark surrounded her, she could hear the echo of water deep in her ears. It sounded lovely, really, and she couldn't help but to close her eyes to sleep.

A while later, there was the sound of a gurgle, and she opened her eyes to look upwards. A dim light shone above, somewhere far away.

Something dipped down from it — a hand — and it came, reaching for her. When its fingers grasped her arm, she was pulled.

Higher and higher she went, until she broke the surface with a splash.

The cold hit her like the slam of a door.

Shizuru opened her eyes with a startle.

The feeling of water was gone, and as she stared up at the wood planks of a ceiling, she felt the beating of her heart slow to a calm.

"So you're awake. Good."

Shizuru recognized the voice — it belonged to Lin. The older woman stepped over to the bed she was lying in. "You've been asleep for over a day."

A day? Shizuru slowly sat up. Nearby, Natsuki was sitting on a chair, watching with a strange expression. Shizuru followed the woman's gaze to her own shoulder.

The front of her shirt had been pulled slightly open, and there was a stretch of white gauze over her skin; like lava between cracked rock, she could see the angry marks of burning flesh poking out from under the bandages, and the memory of burning flashed in her mind.

Shizuru suppressed a shudder.

After killing the man, she had known that the burning would follow, but never would she have predicted it to come so soon. Not to mention at the intensity… She had never experienced a burning that extreme — no, at most, it usually would have lasted a few quick minutes and be over. Yet this time, the feeling of pain and the maddening sound of voices had almost overtaken her — and perhaps it would have, if not for the scratch.

Shizuru felt a frown tugging on her lips, and with lowered eyes, she clenched the sheets underneath her palms. Would she have really driven that dagger into her own neck? Yes, there was a possibility. Then… could her luck finally be coming to an end? She felt her heart begin to race and took in some steady breaths to settle her nerves. Calm down, she told herself sternly. You still have time.

The curt tone of Lin's voice sounded in the air, directed at her. "Are you well enough to get out of bed?"

"Yes… I'm fine," Shizuru replied, lifting her head. She paused — it was only then that she fully came to the realization they were no longer at the Swinging Door. Her eyes wandered the place, scanning across the log walls and wooden floorboards. Nearby, she could hear the sound of water and the chugging of a wheel. We're no longer in the city, are we?

Lin must have noticed her thoughts.

"We've moved you to a different area, somewhere more secluded," the older woman said. "It was too dangerous where you were. At least it should be safe here."

Shizuru pondered for a moment. "And our next location?"

Lin shook her head. "That's yet to be determined. The previous route may have been compromised. We'll have to set up a new route for —" The woman paused abruptly, and Shizuru followed her gaze to a nearby window. From the look of the position of the sun, it was just past noon.

"I've no time to waste. Now that you're awake, I'll need to send word to Yamada." The older woman pulled on a cloak and prepared herself to leave, muttering to herself. "I'm running late."

"And when should we expect you again?"

"You shouldn't. I won't be back, but it doesn't matter. Everything will be taken care of — food will be delivered daily, and when it's time, we'll send a letter." Lin gestured to the window. "If you should see a bird with a red ribbon tied to its foot, be sure to let it in." She hurriedly opened the door, but stopped to cast one last look at the two travelers. Her eyes fell on Shizuru. "Well, then. May luck be with you."

Just like that, Lin was gone — and with her departure, a growing silence settled in.

Shizuru shifted, sitting a little straighter. The sound of a creaking that followed seemed almost too loud to her ears, and she snuck a quick glance at Natsuki, who hadn't moved at all. Really, how awkward this is, she thought, unable to help herself from feeling a bit odd — almost embarrassed. She bit the inside of her cheek, knowing for herself the reasons why.

First, as much as she avoided revealing it, her secret was out now — she was a member of the scorned, and there was no doubt that Natsuki knew. After all, Natsuki had been the one to help her with the scratch. But that wasn't the worst of it. Until now, Shizuru had never once experienced a burning in front of an audience, and the thought itself unnerved her to no end. How awful it was for her to have been seen like that! And in the throes of agony, nonetheless, unable to control herself.

Shizuru let out a troubled breath and couldn't help but to wonder what was running through Natsuki's mind. Was it horror? Disgust?After all, the scorned were considered nothing more than pariahs and parasites of society; even just the mention of them could bring out the worst reactions. But of course, it wasn't all entirely unjustified. Who wouldn't hate them? Even the gods themselves were the first to punish the scorned for their deeds.

The questions circled in Shizuru's mind, and despite all her efforts to strangle them, she found that she still cared about the answers. Then, after a moment, another sigh escaped her lips. Really, what did it matter what Natsuki believed? There was no judgment she hadn't heard before and perhaps even deserved. At the end of the day, she was far from a saint, and there were more dire things to worry about.

Such as this, Shizuru thought, gingerly touching the burning on her shoulder. The action was fleeting, and almost immediately, she retracted her hand. Even the lightest brush of her fingertips on the broken skin had sent pricks of pain through her body, and she bit her tongue to suppress a shudder.

"Here —" The sudden movement of Natsuki's outreached hand came into view, and Shizuru stared down in surprise. In her palm, Natsuki held out a metal tin that smelled heavily herbal, almost earthy even.

Could it be ointment, perhaps?

Shizuru felt another odd feeling well up inside her, and she nearly struggled to find her voice. "Ah, thank you."

"Not me. Lin told me to give it to you." Natsuki passed the ointment over quickly.

"Is that so?"

"...Yes."

Shizuru gave a small smile. "Well, thank you to Lin, then."

At the words, Natsuki nodded and briskly walked away, but the action failed to hide the rising pink that had made its way onto those pale cheeks.

With a widened smile, Shizuru softly shook her head in amusement — perhaps her earlier worries were unfounded after all. She opened the tin, and somewhere in the background was the creak of a door, but she paid it no mind, soon dabbing a bit of the ointment on her wound. The touch of balm felt cool on her burned skin, and she was pleased to feel some of the pain dissipate. She relaxed her shoulders and let out a shallow breath.

Well now, what to do?

Luckily for her, Shizuru didn't have to think too long to find an answer. A small movement through one of the windows caught her eye; it seemed that while she was busy, Natsuki had gone outside. From where she sat, she could make out the image of Natsuki kneeling with one arm extended out front.

Just what is she doing? Shizuru thought, stepping out of bed and toward the door. She pushed it open — and with the sudden creak of wood, saw the flash of a small animal darting away from Natsuki's outstretched hand.

Was that… a rabbit? Yes, it was — Shizuru watched it bound off into the brush, realizing that she must have startled it. Natsuki, still crouching near the ground, lowered her hand slowly, and Shizuru could see a glimpse of disappointment in those green eyes.

Beyond all reason, she felt something uncomfortable settle in her chest.

"Wait," Shizuru said before Natsuki moved to stand. "I have an idea."

Well… half of one, she corrected herself. Truth be told, she didn't exactly have a plan — the words had come out before she could really think it through. Nevertheless, she smiled with a confidence she did not feel and gingerly crouched down beside Natsuki.

Let's see.

Yards away, a different rabbit hopped about, and she took in a focused breath, lightly tugging on the rabbit's mind.

For even the most skilled Voice, controlling the mind of an animal was not an easy task. If the holder's intention or command wasn't clear, most times the animal would not react. Furthermore, human languages did not always translate, so the only alternative was to urge an emotional response.

Unfortunately, even Shizuru herself wasn't immune to the challenge. Although she had practiced a bit on animals when she was a child, it was all but a distant memory now.

"Come," Shizuru said, coaxing the rabbit. Despite the command, nothing happened, and the creature only moved to scratch its head.

Now what? Shenarrowed her eyes, trying to remember the tactics she had used years and years ago. A fuzzy memory popped in her head, and when she tried again, she focused on pressing a feeling of curiosity onto the creature.

"Come," she repeated. This time, the rabbit's ears pointed straight up, and it wobbled closer.

"That's it," Shizuru whispered, keeping a hold on the animal's mind. Just a little more… When the rabbit was close enough, she reached out to let it sniff her hand. It didn't seem scared at all, and her eyes lit up in satisfaction.

Then, with rounded eyes, the rabbit loped over to Natsuki. It sniffed at her clothes and propped a single paw on her foot. Natsuki's lips curved up, and she reached down to pet it.

At the sight, Shizuru couldn't help but to smile. Thank goodness.

…Thank goodness?

A laugh threatened to escape her lips. Nevermind the soldiers she had just fought or the burning afflicting her — out of all the things to be nervous about right now, she was worried her gift wouldn't work on a rabbit. Really now, how silly she was.

She shook her head lightly with amusement, and then, still keeping a light grasp on the animal's mind, took a look at their surroundings.

Behind them was an old grain mill — their current place of stay for the next few days — and attached to the side of it was a large wooden water wheel. The circular structure turned steadily without fail, moving with the flow of a slow moving river that ran under it. Her eyes shifted, scanning the horizon. Besides that, there seemed to be nothing much else of rest of the land surrounding them was just fields, stretching as far as the eye could see. Perhaps at one point it had been used for farming; now it was nothing but rolling hills of grass, and amidst it all, there were also a few dirt paths, crisscrossing through.

Shizuru furrowed her brow, feeling a rise of melancholy. Hadn't she seen a place like this before? …Ah, that's right, she thought as a memory surfaced in her mind.

Long ago, hung in the common area of the Head Sanctuary, was a painting of a similar view — her first ever birthday present. Being part of Eibin's Voices meant personal items were frowned upon, so as a gift, her cousin had hung a portrait of a landscape in the hallway for her. For as long as she could remember, it had been one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen: a burst of color against those white walls.

A faint smile crossed her lips. It was almost sad to think that she'd be the only one with the memory of it.

Well… Perhaps that wasn't entirely accurate. There was still another Voice out there, wasn't there? At least, that's what Yamada had said the night they struck their deal.

But who could it possibly be? A sudden rush of thoughts ran through Shizuru's mind. Perhaps it was a classmate, or even a teacher — still, how did they make it out alive? Her hands clenched into soft fists. And after the incident… Did they find life just as difficult as she did?

Shizuru felt a swell in her chest, and she took a measured breath to pause the dizzying feelings. There were so many questions she wanted answers for; yet, somehow, standing here in the middle of green meadows, she felt a looming fear. What if the answers weren't what she wanted to hear? She lifted a hand to her shoulder. Or even worse yet, what if she didn't survive long enough to hear them?

Shizuru looked out at the clouds in the distance, and as the thoughts waned, she found herself thinking back to the portrait that once hung in the hallway of her old home.

It was a shame — in that painting there had been rows of wildflowers, but this place had none.

Not long after, Shizuru fell in a daze.

She wasn't sure how long it had been; it was only when the rabbit suddenly jumped up that she remembered where she was. In a startle, the critter scurried forward, leaping away — and Shizuru let it go.

She turned her attention to Natsuki, curious about how the woman would react. Needless to say, it wasn't what she had expected, and she felt a little strange.

As Natsuki watched the rabbit disappear, she still had a hint of a smile on her lips.

The tranquility of the area was a reprieve from their travels thus far, and for the rest of the remainder of the day, the two companions had spent it outdoors.

Natsuki had bided her time near the river, and Shizuru had wandered off further to explore — but beyond a few crowds of trees here and there, there was nothing much else to see. Despite this, Shizuru had found herself enjoying the peace. There was something almost healing about the quiet calmness, and she had found her mood lightening quite a bit.

When the sun had set, the pair headed back inside the mill. Old logs were lit in a small fireplace built into one of the walls, and the sound of soft crackles, mixed in with the chugging of the water wheel, filled the air comfortably.

Amidst the warmth of the flames, Shizuru found herself sitting on her knees, staring down at her lap. In her hands were long blades of grass she had just started weaving together.

Now that's not right, is it? she thought.

Moments before heading back, in an act of impulse, Shizuru had picked the grass, along with a bundle of red flowers. For the most part, she couldn't help it; there was something about this place that made her nostalgic, and from what little she remembered, the activity was a good way to pass the time.

And really, what harm would it be? Well, that was what she had thought — but oh, how wrong she was. Little by little her ego had been chipped away as she stared down at the mismatched pattern in her hands. Shizuru could almost hear Miss Maria's scolding voice in her ears — in Eibin's name, what horrible work!

Her fingers pulled on the ends of the grass, rearranging the pattern. After a while, the strands began to settle in place, and Shizuru felt a smile across her lips. Perhaps not all is lost. For a moment later, she continued in silence, until the soft sound of footsteps caught her attention.

Natsuki had approached the fireplace, and nearby, she silently took a seat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest. Her head was turned, and Shizuru could feel her eyes watching with interest.

"Would you like to try?" Shizuru asked. When Natsuki moved closer, she pushed a few strands of grass toward her. "I'll admit, it's been a long time, but it should look something like this." She slowly folded a few strands of green together to create a neat criss cross pattern.

Natsuki picked up a few strands of grass, and slowly began to mimic Shizuru's motions. It was surprisingly sloppy, and the result of it was even worse.

Just awful!

There was the slip of a chuckle, and Shizuru held a hand to her mouth, unable to stop the laughter from shining in her eyes.

Almost immediately, Natsuki's face reddened with an indignant look. Without a word, she swiped a flower off the floor and placed it with the braided grass. A sweet smell danced in the air, and the flower died back, only to regrow with a force until the entire weave was covered in red blooms.

The smile slowly faded from Shizuru's lips. "Why, isn't that a bit unfair?" She glanced down at her own work, suddenly uninterested, and placed it to the side.

Some time after, Shizuru found herself leaning back on her palms, basking in the glow of the fire. She watched on as the shape of the flames slowly morphed and changed, and soon felt the attention of a familiar gaze.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, shifting her eyes to the woman beside her.

"How…" Natsuki whispered, her voice sounding unsure. "How many —" And with a look of doubt, she closed her lips and quieted.

A moment passed, and after waiting patiently, Shizuru couldn't help but to prompt, "How many, what?"

Again, there was a look of hesitation. "How many were there?"

How many were… were what? Shizuru tried to decipher the words, but found her head spinning. "What do you mean?" she asked, angling her body to face the other directly.

"How many people have you killed?"

Shizuru's brow shot up in surprise. Now that's unexpected, she thought, her eyes studying Natsuki's face. But the shadows of the fire had obscured the others' expression, only allowing a hint of awkwardness to show through.

Well… Shizuru pondered the question, but failed to come up with an answer. So many years had passed when Yamada had first stumbled upon her, and from then on it had only been a blur.

"To be honest, I don't recall," Shizuru finally said, after searching her mind to no avail. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Natsuki turned away and buried part of her face in her arms.

Shizuru was unconvinced.

As if sensing this, Natsuki spoke again, but this time her voice sounded heavy. "During that fight… It was my first time seeing someone die."

The words felt like the first day of frost.

Shizuru lowered her eyes. After all these years, seeing death was almost commonplace for her, and she hadn't even given it a second thought. Still, she couldn't help but to feel as if she'd done something wrong. Her lips parted slightly, but she couldn't find the right words to say; luckily, she didn't have to — Natsuki spoke before she had the chance.

"How old were you when you first…" Natsuki's voice tapered off.

"Killed someone, you mean?"

Natsuki stayed silent.

Shizuru stared unblinkingly into those green eyes, and with each crackle of firewood, was reminded of the sound of a skull breaking. She could feel her muscles tense, and when she spoke next, her tone was dull. "Why do you want to know?"

Natsuki steadily held her gaze. "Well. Maybe I don't."

This time, it was Shizuru who fell quiet.

"Sometimes," Natsuki continued, her voice low, "you remind me of someone I've seen in a dream."

A dream? The woman's strange words gave Shizuru pause, but in the end, she thought nothing much of it. She responded with a wry smile. "And you're sure it wasn't a nightmare?"

The corners of Natsuki's mouth lifted ever so slightly. "Maybe." She said nothing more.

Soon after, the pair lapsed into what would have been silence, if not for the wafting sounds of the water wheel and the occasional rustle of clothing. When the fire died down to only small wicks of orange, Shizuru thought about turning in for the night, but was yet again surprised by another question.

"Have you ever been to Artai?"

Even just the name of the Kingdom sent strange pricks down her spine, and Shizuru narrowed her eyes slightly. "I haven't. Have you?"

Natsuki shook her head. "No."

"Do you know much about it?"

"A little bit."

"You're at least aware of the culture there, then." Surely she must be, Shizuru thought. Even Natsuki, who had grown up sheltered at the palace, should have at least heard some of the rumors.

With the fading firelight, the color of Natsuki's green eyes seemed to dim. "I'm not."

Shizuru bit her tongue as a sudden dark feeling loomed over her. Did she really know so little? If anything, Natsuki should be more prepared than that; after all, they didn't call Artai the Kingdom of Blood for nothing.

…Or was it the Kingdom of Rot?

Shizuru couldn't remember. In her line of work, she had heard more than a few quips about the place, and it always boiled down to the same thing: that Uthar, the god they revered in Artai, was in love with bloodshed, and that the people who lived there were more than willing to give it.

Regardless, having come across some of the worst of people, Shizuru at least had an idea of what to expect. But Natsuki… Well, what would Natsuki know about that? She wasn't like the others Shizuru had to deal with. She was innocent. Whoever prepared the journey must have known this — must have thought this out. There had to be a reason behind everything, some sort of plan she just wasn't privy of. Because if there wasn't…

I may just be sending Natsuki to her doom, Shizuru thought, feeling a twisting in her gut. What shouldn't have normally bothered her had started to wear on her conscience. Would Natsuki even have a chance at survival in a place like that? Even if Artai had granted her asylum, who knew what they actually had in store for her. After all, the King of Artai wasn't exactly known for his generosity.

In the end, after moments of struggle, Shizuru could only put the thoughts away. Don't think of it, she told herself. All will be fine.

"I'm afraid the fire's almost out," Shizuru said, putting on a strained smile. "I think it's time to retire for the night."

Natsuki gave a quiet nod.

Fortunately, that was the last of their interaction, and when she left, Shizuru began gathering the plants from the floor. Still — when she got to the braid of red flowers, she couldn't help but to pause.

How strange… She almost couldn't bring herself to pick it up.

A/N: I was hoping to get this out sooner, but life gets in the way sometimes. Hope you're all taking care of yourselves out there!