He had vague memories of movement, blinding pain, a face - an old woman frowning at him, movement and pain and the soothing chill of mud against his skin, the wet earth seeping into his clothes... His clothes.
His armor.
The fighting.
The battle.
It was over.
He wrenched himself upright and looked about him. The field was quiet. He could see naked bodies strewn across the hill and smoke billowing from the direction of the villa. Someone had stripped off all his armor. An old woman, he remembered, shoving him around to untie and twist it all off of him, like he was any other corpse.
A stick digging into his hip. He grimaced and reached under and - his sheathed sword.
So she had been a merciful, or at least a pious old woman.
He wondered if he should leave it, if he still had a right to carry it, but then he thought of Kaoru in the mountains, and his grip tightened around the hilt.
Otherwise, he was nameless and penniless, as he had been, before... As he had been. He had been... Shinta.
No.
Not quite.
No, he could never truly be Shinta again... But it was the only name left to him, and perhaps his parents would forgive him the use he would make of it.
Shinta carefully lifted himself to his feet and picked up his sword and began to walk, limping, to seek the only person he called home.
.
Kaoru could feel the cold coming in. She could feel the quiet. That boorish man, Sanosuke, he seemed to feel it, too - the heavy sorrow in his eyes, the way he watched her at times.
Something quiet.
Something dead.
Luckily the other members of their group were stalwart and strong. The farther they traveled away from the Kiyosato villa the more alert everyone else seemed to become. Mirine had family in one of the villages they were approaching. She ran ahead and later reappeared with some extra food, information about soldiers and other travelers who had been passing by.
It was Mirine and the other stable hand, Katsuhiro, who started making plans about what to do when they got to the shrine. They were the ones who suggested that they re-open it and operate it as a holy place and a refuge for women. At the next stop, a few of the women shaved their heads to show that they were pilgrims.
Kaoru felt a gentle sort of pride. She had known that these people wanted to save themselves. They had only needed enough encouragement to begin.
"What sort of shrine will it be?" she asked.
Hiroko, the old woman, answered her. "It is an ancient shrine. It has always been in the service of the Snow Woman."
A chill suddenly fell over her, but Kaoru did not falter or slow her steps. She was beginning to become accustomed to the feeling.
.