There was no sleep for the two exhausted boys. Saburou was unsure of what to do once it was over and Isobu had patched both their wounds. Dragging his feet, he followed Isobu throughout the night assisting with the 'cleanup.'

Every building was inspected for enemy's in case Saburou couldn't detect them as Isobu seemed distrusting of his ability to an extent, and most importantly, if there were any survivors at all. Disappointingly there was none of the latter. Each family that was set up as decorations were laid flat and covered with sheets.

This work took the majority of the night, not that Saburou could sleep as he could remember the cold feeling of their flesh and Isobu's indifferent expression as he snapped the joints straight. "Rigor mortis" he explained, not that Saburou knew what it meant. The sickening snaps and resistant corpses plagued his mind as they slaved through the night with fresh injuries.

After retrieving his items Isobu had taken to looting a few abodes, defending himself by saying "the dead have no need for earthly possessions." Saburou was despondent however and hadn't even acknowledged it in the first place. Little could surprise him anymore tonight as he was emotionally exhausted and Isobu had surprised him too many times already.

The final task was the demon's lair. Saburou waited outside, staring whimsically at the stars. Reminiscent of his innocent childhood, he watched as dawn was about to break. Isobu had dragged the frozen corpses inside next to the altar and poured lantern oil throguhout the building's interior. After one last look to strip it of whatever he had wished, Isobu pulled out a small metal contraption, gold in color.

With tired eyes Saburou watched as Isobu clicked the machine and a flame sprouted. Kneeling down he lit a small trail that took to the house. Quickly the wooden structure took to the flame. As white smoke started to billow black the sun broke across the horizon. It was a view Saburou would never forget and one Isobu seemed to have seen far too often. Isobu did a strange gesture with his hands and clasped them together offering a small prayer before they departed.

Descending, Isobu occasionally spoke to ensure Saburou was still following behind him and not losing himself to thought. "The village below will send others up once we report to them. They'll take care of the body's and the belongings.

"What of the old man? How do we explain the home?" Asked Saburou, his voice drained of his usual energy.

" Don't linger on the thought, it was best we burnt it down. It was smeared with too much gore. Any sane person would lose their mind at the sight."

"Pfft" snickered Saburou. 'What does that make us?' he thought.

"Besides now we don't have to tell him what became of his daughter, or how it happened. He can rest thinking she died as he knew her. Young, beautiful, and loving." answered Isobu.

His wording caught Saburou's interest. "You know what happened to her?!" he asked, eyes widening as his voice cracking from the sudden volume.

Isobu cast a sidelong glance. "It's only conjecture from hearsay and deduction. But the closest to the truth we'll get. Lucky for us she was well known in both villages. Her beauty caught many admirers and much jealousy. A rumor spread around a year ago that she was meeting some more affluential suitors behind her modest husband's back."

Saburou listened with rapt attention. His viewpoint had been altered so drastically just a few hours ago, that demon… had been human. She had lived a beautiful life. 'Where did it all go wrong? How could it?'

Taking a deep breath Isobu exhaled, glancing up at the pink tinted sky. "Some more drastic rumors even go as far as saying she hid and killed her first pregnancy in order to keep receiving gifts."He shok his head at the thought. "Ridiculous. I'd never seen so much love on another human's face, let alone a demon."

Saburou sympathized with his statement. The pleading, desperation in her eyes, the comfort as she grasped the frozen corpse's hand and held it.

"I assume she was thrown out one night when her husband couldn't take any more of his own suspicions. From there she was attacked."

"By a demon?" asked Saburou

"By wolves most likely. Her sleeves were torn, limbs frostbitten and scarred as if they had been gnawed on. A demon would have finished her. She must have escaped with barely any life to her when something came along and gave her an offer she can't refuse."

Recalling the snowflake pattern on her arms, Saburou imagined what she must have endured. The pain. The betrayal. Onlya fool wouldn't recognize what must have been offered.

Isobu took a slow inhale of the cold mountain air. "Eternal life for servitude. Or perhaps just to keep killing humans, judging by how she kept to herself up there. Her husband, the one on the altar, had a nightgown and a thick coat folded next to him. He may have went after her feeling regret at casting her out into the cold."

"What he found was no longer his wife however. Living up to the tale of the Yuki-onna, she preserved his body and made a small alter to remember him at their happiest. An eternal, loyal husband. Young and beautiful like she, and never doubting."

Silence grew between the two before Saburou voice his thoughts. "That's quite the assumption."

Isobu proceeded, disregarding the statement, as if he was lost in his own story. "She must've ran the village secretly for some time seeing as how there was no discrepancies untill as of late. She even kept writing to her father below keeping up the facade of normalcy. Then that single slayer arrived. Maybe he, judging by the name on the tag, lived there and returned to visit. He would've noticed her change and challenged her. The mark to her face must have driven her mad, the price for her flawless beauty was the villagers lives."

Saburou was in awe at the deduction, thinking of the tragedy they had brought to a close.

"Saburou," called Isobu. "Back there, you faltered for a moment. Why was that?"

Saburou hesitated. There was no reason to hide it after all. "My family… they ended up much the same when I was young."

"Youth always seek adventure in foreign excursions. Hardly do we ever find it the way we want.'' Isobu quoted.

'Poetry?' pondered Saburou with a cock of his head.

"Saburou, you've never taken a human life have you?" asked Isobu ignoring the query.

The mood shifted. Saburou's eyes narrowed at the question, paranoid silence filling the air. "...What do you mean?"

Isobu hummed before turning quiet. They didn't speak the rest of the way back.

As it was quite early, the two rested shortly in front of the old man's home. Isobu had fortunately asked for permission before their departure. An early riser, the old man was shocked to see them resting out front and fervently greeted them.

Saburou allowed Isobu to handle the conversation as he feigned a polite smile and bowed his head. Isobu broke the news, his only comforting words was telling the grieving father that she had surely died quick and painlessly.

Watching the man's eyes tear up, and ball his fist's in despair before falling to his knees, his wife came outside. It hurt. To watch, to feel sympathy and empathize with them. So much that Saburou could hardly look. But he felt he needed to see it through.

Isobu stood firm, allowing the old man to prop himself against him as his wife slowly supported him. She soon joined him upon hearing the news. An hour passed as the tears turned to muffled sobs and stifled speech in remembering their daughter. Tales of how she was a miraculous birth for such an elderly couple and surely a blessing. How she brought joy and smiles to all. Each vivid memory seemed to bring more pain to the two.

Isobu seemed curiously familiar with how to handle such a scene. Something Saburou didn't envy.

As the two elders calmed somewhat, Isobu presented four items, saying the home had been destroyed. In his hand was the rose hair clip, matching bracelet, a silver framed photo of the deceased couple, and a locket with the same picture inside.

With quaking arms the elderly couple reached for the photo, cautiously their hands hesitated around it before grasping and holding it close. With thanks they asked him to keep the ornaments.

"They took this photo when they visited the capitol… please. We cannot bear to possess any more than this single reminder. Our time is drawing close and we will join our daughter soon, please keep them so that someone will remember our family name and story."

With a nod Isobu carefully pocketed the remaining items. "They were treasured dearly, I'll ensure they remain so for generations to come. May you be blessed in this life and the next. Take care."

Isobu turned to leave as Saburou bowed to the waving couple, now stricken with tears again. This time perhaps with relief and thanks for the two young mission officially done, the Slayers departed.

Resting for most of the morning and afternoon, the two took to the road late evening before stopping at a fork in the road.

"This is it then I guess," announced Saburou feeling better and strangely reluctant to say goodbye to the man he had known for only a day.

"It was interesting to see your skill," remarked Isobu.

Emotion welled in Saburou as he gave a deep bow clasping his hands together. "Good luck to you!"

With a snicker Isobu nodded. Placing his hands together he returned the sentiment. "And may god be with ye."

Saburou raised his head with a teary smile before an expression of confusion took him. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask, what's with those hand motions and manner of speech?

"This?" Asked Isobu, reaching into his shirt. "I'm a christain," he proclaimed pulling out a small silver cross.

Saburou cocked his head at the explanation. "What?" he asked with a polite face.

Isobu snickered, exuding a strange and unusual sense of warmth from the contradictory man for the first time. "Perhaps next time" he said, turning with a wave. With an expectant nod, Saburou agreed and the two slayers went their own paths preparing for their next mission and tribulation looking forwar to the day they crossed paths again.