Of course, you've always seen the world in black and white—and you are white. That's why the power sparks so easily at your fingertips, and you are always the first to sense approaching demons. But it's so easy—you can feel their darkness, alien blots on your pristine white landscape, and you secretly marvel when no one else seems to notice how wrong they are.

You're standing beneath the cherry trees, white blossoms raining around you, when you first meet Tsubaki. She must be beautiful, you decide, because she's so blinding—you can't tell, though, whether you're being blinded by darkness or light. Perhaps this is how you look to other people—but no, you're sure you've never had that look in your eyes.

A demon bursts into the clearing, then, and you both go for your arrows. When she shoots, you can feel that same essential wrongness, and when you next turn to look at her she's tainted so black she fills you vision. Later, you reason that she's you, approached from the opposite side.

You train together, tracing sutras and murmuring chants. Occasionally, you and Tsubaki exchange knowing glances—you're the only one who sees how black she is. When the others comment on your exceptional skill, you just smile, because you can't explain to them that they lack clarity of thought.
The night before you leave for your village is hot, and the air hangs stagnant around you. You feel rather than hear Tsubaki approach and kneel beside you, her impossibly smooth fingers trailing darkness down your cheek, your breath hitching in your throat. A part of you—something alien and dark—screams for you to say something, do something, look up into her smoldering eyes… It takes all of your will to stay perfectly still and keep your eyes closed.

A subtle shift in the air lets you know when she has left. You want so badly to draw your knees to your chest and sob, but of course you don't. The next day you shed your robes and plunge headfirst into the icy river, scrubbing until you can no longer feel your pure white skin.

The light of the Shikon Jewel only serves to cast your contrasting landscape into harsh relief. Its weight around your neck reminds you of exactly how white you are, to keep it glowing like that.
Finally looking into Inu-yasha's eyes is your greatest revelation yet. A boy and a man, the hurt and the hurting, black and white, mesh together in those eyes. When you tear yourself away, the world stretches before you in shades of gray.
The demon very nearly kills you; you see its head fly past as Inu-yasha swoops in from behind. He shoots you a questioning glare, but you don't have the words to explain why you didn't sense it—how its darkness slips through the gray sky around you, where black and white blur together and you can barely see for all the subshades. You haven't let him touch you, for fear that his insidious grayness will seep through your robes and into you skin.
You're standing beneath the cherry trees, where the world is still white—you haven't allowed Inu-yasha into this sanctuary. Tsubaki approaches from behind you, her dark form swirling with gray at the edges. You wonder if you're the same, and then if she can tell. She announces that standing beneath the cherry blossoms will drive you mad, but on the contrary, you've never felt more sane. There's a silent moment, beautiful in its simplicity, when her dark snake arcs through the air.
It's after your sister loses an eye that you propose the idea to Inu-yasha. You don't say it, but you need him to agree so badly—so the black demons will stop swarming around, so the world will stop blurring before your eyes, so he can be white like you are. You let yourself fall into his embrace, because it's what you feel you ought to do next.

The world fades into darkness, and you with it.
You're standing beneath the cherry trees again. The dull ache thuds along with each beat of your heart, but it's healing with the wound in your shoulder. Tsubaki appears behind you, and when you turn to her, you smile when you realize that her eyes are breathtakingly blue.