On the eve of her coming of age ceremony, Midoriko lingered in the shadows of the forest that hulked over the Naminoue Shrine. Behind her, on the other side of the sprawling shrine grounds, waves crashed against the cliffs the shrine sat atop. Power hummed beneath her skin in time with the roar of the waves, as lethal and alluring as the death waiting in the depths of the ocean. Incense wafted through the air, but the sea salt spray of the ocean eclipsed it with ease.
The rough linen of her haori and hakama soothed the raw edges of her nerves. Since Masashi had left her here three days ago, her senses had been on high alert. She should have been inside the shrine, preparing for the final initiation of her life as Miko—but here she stood on the cusp of the forest, staring into the dark.
"You sensed it too."
Glancing over her shoulder, Midoriko noted the tall, old crone making her way towards the forest, leaning heavily on a staff. A jagged, mottled scar ripped across her face from beneath her silver hairline down to the sagging curve of her jaw. Scars on miko were not unexpected, but this one always reminded her of what the future might hold for her. "Yes, elder. I sensed it. A youkai is coming." She rolled her shoulders and turned to face the forest again.
The elder stepped up to Midoriko's side. "A youkai approaches, yet you do not draw your weapon. You have changed, Midoriko."
She shrugged one delicate shoulder. "Whoever it is does not intend harm. My blades will not be necessary."
"Some time ago that would not have mattered to you."
She studied her teacher's weathered face, searching for hidden meaning. "Would you like me to confess the truth of your wisdom all those years ago, Kaori-sensei?"
Kaori's quiet chuckle filled the space between them. "Nay, girl. It's clear you've learned your own lessons since your travels began. How fares your Crane?"
Color limed the tops of her cheeks, but her gaze remained steadfastly on the forest this time. She shouldn't have been surprised Kaori had heard word of her travels—and of him. Word had clearly traveled faster than their travels, undoubtedly spurred by Masashi's exuberant tongue at trading posts, docks, and taverns. "He is not my crane."
The elder miko snorted. "Indeed."
Midoriko's frown deepened as she shifted, crossing her arms over her chest. "He isn't. He is a friend, nothing more." The familiar, hard edge to her voice sounded insincere, even to her ears. "You know the laws, Kaori sensei. He could never be more than that if I wish to be welcomed into the shrines and temples by our sisters and brothers."
Kaori glanced over her shoulder at the shrine behind them with scorn, and gave a knowing hum before meeting Midoriko's eyes. "The laws are ancient and unyielding, this is true. But hearts are not stone, Midoriko. Sometimes, even the oldest vows form cracks."
"It almost sounds like you're encouraging me to wed with him." Once the words were uttered, they could not be taken back. They settled inside her heart like a seed, waiting to sprout—and filled her mind with blurry images of a future she had never allowed herself to imagine.
Kaori chuckled and leaned fully on her staff as a whip of wind rushed past them to the cliff behind. "I should think a courting would come first, my girl."
A strange rustle stopped Midoriko's protest in its tracks. Her hands twitched towards her blades, but she did not draw them. In the light of the setting sun shifting through the trees, something stirred. At first, she thought it only a shadow, before it slowly took on the shape of a youkai she'd only heard of in legends.
The creature stepped out of the shadow, cloaked in a mantle of shifting feathers, with eyes of mercurial silver almost hidden by a long-beaked mask that covered only half its face. Feathers covered its neck, cascading over pointed ears and framing a strong jaw. It loomed over them, draped in cobalt and silver robes that brushed the ground like the whispers of a brewing storm.
Kaori moved to step slightly in front of her, but Midoriko gently set a hand on her arm. "It holds no malice towards us, elder."
Narrowing her eyes at the yet silent creature, the elder miko watched as it reached inside its robes and withdrew a glowing, opaque orb. "Then I believe your resolve will be tested this evening, child. What do you sense?"
Frowning, Midoriko studied the yet empty orb. Only grey mist floated within its crystal confines. "It calls to me."
The spirit lifted its head, and in a voice that was neither youkai nor human, spoke. "Midoriko, daughter of shrines and seas, what do you seek most on this night of your spiritual awakening?"
Her heart pounded, but Midoriko did not let uncertainty hold her back. She lifted her chin and took a step towards it—away from the elder, away from the shrine, away from the singular future laid out before her. "I seek a path that is mine alone."
The spirit's laugh, like wind chimes rustling through an unseen storm, faded as it extended the orb toward her. "Then take what is offered and let nothing bind your spirit. The gods, too, desire freedom."
The orb was strange, almost alive beneath her fingers, its warmth creeping into her skin until her veins pulsed like molten light. In an instant, her vision shattered. She was a warrior, fierce and unyielding, standing beside Masashi. She was a mother, watching golden feathers dance in her children's hair. Then—a martyr, kneeling broken before a shrine. A leader, her heart hollow and cold. Each future took root inside her, filling her with longing, sorrow, rage, until she barely remembered who she was.
When her vision returned, she was on her knees, the shattered orb like stars scattered in the grass. Her voice was hoarse, foreign to her own ears. "What was that?"
The spirit lifted a feathered arm, gesturing toward the shrine. "The world shifts with each choice, daughter of shrines and seas. Beware what fear may build—and what freedom may destroy." Shadows seeped from the now night dark forest and gathered around it, hiding it from view, until only the sound of wind chimes and a single, obsidian feather remained in its place
Kaori leaned down, fingers curling around the lone feather. She held it between them with a bittersweet smile. "You see now, don't you?" Her voice was low, quiet as the night itself. "Whatever path you choose will demand courage, and your heart must remain unbound—like the sea. But remember, Midoriko—freedom is as treacherous as it is beautiful."
Midoriko nodded numbly, though her mind churned with the futures she had seen, and even though her legs trembled with the effort, she heaved herself up and scrubbed the tears from her face with the rough linen of her sleeve. "I understand."
With a gentleness that belied the strength of her words, Kaori tucked the feather into the hilt of Midoriko's wakizashi, binding it there like an unseen vow. "They say when a miko weds, she loses her spiritual gifts—that her powers are drained by love and the loss of purity." Her voice was low, tinged with sorrow and scorn. "But that is a language of fear, of whose who cannot imagine a power that blooms from devotion rather than duty."
She held Midoriko's gaze, her eyes dark with warning and tenderness. "The kami did not grant us these gifts only to strip them away if we choose a husband… or a mate. That is what cowards want you to believe—because love, true love, can shake the ground beneath their laws and tradition." Her voice softened, though the weight of her words only grew. "But remember, there are many forms of love, and not all of them ask for sacrifice. Some will demand you, whole and unbroken. Some will consume you, body and soul."
Kaori's hand lingered on the hilt before releasing it, a faint tremor betraying her own unspoken experiences. "You stand at the threshold of adulthood, Midoriko. Many paths lie before you, and none are without cost. But choose with an open heart—not one bound by fear of what might be taken from you. A path chosen from fear will lead only to chains."
"I am not afraid," Midoriko murmured as she crouched to pick up the broken shards of the orb, each piece still thrumming with the warmth of a burning star. Her voice came out firm, layered with the iron resolve of a vow made long ago. "I have not been afraid since the night I hid under the floorboards from the youkai who killed my family. That night I swore fear would never dictate my life again."
Kaori's gaze softened as she watched. "Then what choice will you make, child? Will you join the others at dawn, taking your vows alongside your sisters?"
Cupping the jagged shards in the palms of her hands, she turned away from the forest and started towards the cliffs edge—avoiding the shrine entirely. The sharp edges of the crystal shards bit into her palm, grounding her. "No. I will take them tonight," she declared, her voice steady with finality. "and you will help me. I might not yet see my future clearly, but a path that is mine alone begins with rejecting a home that teaches only hatred for those different from us."
She paused and tilted her face up to the first stars peeking out of the dark, clear sky. "I will not trade my soul, or find my home in a shrine, for a faith that places bloodshed over devotion."
Kaori watched her, silent and still, a figured carved from both grief and pride. And as the night whispered around them, she nodded, just once—a solemn vow of her own.
o.O.o
Hours later, Midoriko stood waist deep in the frothing waves of the beach below the cliff-side shrine, her juban soaked and clinging ot her skin. The relentless pull of the ocean tugged at her, as if it, like the vow that awaited her in the morning if she changed her mind, wished to tug her into its depths and never let go. Her arms were bare, gooseflesh rippling across her skin in defiance of the early spring wind. Despite the warmth in the air, the water turned her bones to ice as that deep, unrelenting cold sank into her and settled—as heavy as the weight of her heritage—but still she did not shiver.
In her hands, the jagged shards of the shattered orb sat innocent and unassuming as they sliced into her palms. Blood dribbled down and dripped into the ocean—as black as the depths waiting to claim her if she wasn't careful. She didn't care. It felt like an offering.
Kaori's voice broke the silence, somber and low. "What vow will you make tonight, Midoriko, as you leave your childhood behind?"
The elder stood behind her, her breath shallow in the cold, a tremor running through it—but still, she remained as steady and solid as the earth beneath their feet. Midoriko's gaze remained on the stars above them, their light distant and cold, just like the traditions that had bound her for so long.
Minutes stretched like endless waves as the tide rose, creeping higher and higher around them, but still Midoriko did not speak. In the dawn light, her sisters would kneel before Kaori and repeat the same vow miko had repeated for generations: Honor. Devotion. Purity. Bloodshed. Death. Hate. They perpetrated a cycle, a pattern that held them captive without question—until now.
She thought of them, the others—her sisters. They had not chosen this, had never thought to choose anything for themselves. Perhaps had never been given a chance to choose anything for themselves. They believed fully in their duty to kneel before the gods, to offer up their lives in sacrifice to traditions and beliefs older than their very names. Midoriko could no longer pretend that was enough.
"I will not make a vow of devotion or purity," she said at last, her voice steady even as the weight of that admission made her heart thunder against her ribs. She finally dropped her gaze from the stars and studied the shards, almost coated now in her blood. Closing her fingers around them, she felt the pulse of her power rise inside of her—sharp, searing, alive. A small star bloomed between her fingers, casting both miko in an otherworldly glow as the waves crashed, relentlessly, around them.
The air thrummed with energy as she spoke, her words now a declaration, not just to the universe, but to herself.
"Like the ocean softens glass, I will use my powers to soften the hate that fills the world. I will protect the weak—no matter what blood runs through their veins. I will stand against those who prey on the helpless, and I will fight the evil that festers in the shadows. I will not bow to bloodshed and fear."
She held her breath as she gathered more energy, pouring it into her hands until the light between them was blinding, pure. Stinging pain slashed through her palms as the shards cut deep, before it faded away into nothing. When she opened her palms, the shards were gone—reduced to a fine, glittering dust that scattered to the wind.
"This vow I make to the sky, the sea, and the soul that burns inside me," she murmured, the words almost lost to the roar of the waves. "To live a life worthy of the powers shining inside me, to earn the honor I have been given—and to love has I have never been loved before."
She exhaled, feeling the weight of the promise settle deep inside her, as bright and burning as the stars above—filled with the light of her choice. She would never again be led by tradition or law or faith—but only by the future she carved for herself each day.
When she looked down at her hands again, the cuts from the shards were gone—healed over by the same glittering dust she'd released to the wind only moments before. A star inside of her, and hands full of stars to remind her if she ever forgot.
After decades of anointing new priestesses, of taking their vows and guiding them down their chosen paths, Kaori had not expected the stone in her throat as Midoriko's vow settled between them. Her gaze lingered on the trail of glittering dust as it floated away on the wind before she stepped forward and placed a hand on the younger miko's shoulder.
"You have made your choice now. Remember, the sea does not seek permission to break upon the shore, and neither does the heart when it decides to follow its own course." Her hand did not tremble, despite the cold. "The path you have chosen will not be easy, Midoriko. The world you are stepping into is not kind to those who walk against the tides. But I see the stars within your heart—the same that stores are woven with and loves are filled with—and they will guide you should you choose to let them. I will be here, guide or shield or sister, should you have need of me."
Midoriko, unused to affection even from her favored mentor, took a moment to collect herself as fire burned in the back of her throat. She struggled to contain herself and at last, spun around to wrap her arms around Kaori—the first time in her life she had ever hugged, or been hugged in return. She did not explain the significance of the gesture, only buried her face in the linen of Kaori's linen and held on.
o.O.o
The next morning, while the young sisters knelt and made their vows in the shrine, Midoriko hiked alone through the forest to the river she'd promised to wait for Masashi at. Her ears still rang with the crash of the waves and the song of windchimes. Her palms still glowed with the beauty of a star-filled sky. Her mind lingered on the vision of children with gold feathers dancing in their hair as they played.
She reached the river by the time the sun hovered above them, warming the day almost too much as sweat trickled down her lower back.
And then she saw him.
Masashi lounged as he always did, languidly spread out in a bed of clovers and weeds. The black of his hair gleamed in the sun like polished obsidian. Gold feathers glinted within his dark locks as though they belonged their, veins of golden ore in black iron. His clothing glowed with immaculate care, as always, the blues and silvers as natural on him as the air they breathed. Gold embroidery glittered across his chest, the emblem of his house as stark and clear as the gold in his hair. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat as she remember a smaller, laughing face with gold feathers.
Her throat tightened at the memory, and as if the soft swallow she'd taken to clear her throat had woken him, he leaned up on his elbows and smiled indolently at her.
"Hello, Miko," he drawled, his voice a ship in the night cutting through the surf.
"Hello, Masashi," she murmured, her voice betraying her as she averted her eyes. The heat of his presence seeped into her skin and the tips of her ears burned red. "You're early."
A gust of wind stirred the air, and before she could step back, he was standing over her—his presence a shadow that swallowed the sun. He towered over her, the seafoam green of his eyes now darkening like the storm brewed sea, darker, intense. "There is something different about you, Midoriko," he said, his voice low, like a tide pulling her under.
The lump in her throat made it harder to breath, harder to think. She swallowed again, fighting to keep her composure, but the weight of his gaze pinned her in place. "You grew taller," she blurted, the words spilling out before she could stop them. Her face burned with mortification.
She took a step to the side, desperate to create some distance between them, but before she could get far, he took her chin in his hand, his touch warm and commanding. He tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he said.
His voice was steady, filled with an edge she'd never heard him use before, an edge that made her heart race. She didn't have a choice but to obey, her eyes lifting to meet his. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world outside them came to a halt. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears, each beat louder than the last. Surely he could hear them?
His thumb against her chin held her firmly in place, an anchor in the ocean of his eyes as they stared at each other. "Will you tell me of the changes you have faced in the last three days?" he asked finally, and something light eased into his words as he shifted his grasp to cup her jaw in his hand.
The rough callouses in his palm scratched pleasantly against her cheek, seeping warmth deep into the heart of her. "I do not know if they are so interesting as to make a good tale," she whispered, unable to raise her voice in the face of his interest.
He smiled, slow and knowing, and leaned in closer until his lips brushed against her ear. "There is not a single thing you could say to me that would not hold me captivated, Lady Miko. You could regale me with tales of gathering herbs and making poultices, and I would listen with apt attention."
Another thick swallow and Midoriko finally managed to drag her gaze away as more heat flooded across her cheeks. "Very well," she managed, and did not acknowledge the seeping disappointment when he finally let go of her and took a step back. "Will you also tell me what you have done for three days?"
Masashi's smile faded at her question, but he nodded. "Of course, My Lady. There is much to speak of," he said as he led her to the small camp he had made for her when he'd arrived that morning. "I fear you will not like the news."
Though he did not touch her again, Midoriko immediately noted the soft warmth of his hand hovering at the small of her back as he guided her towards a low burning fire. "What news?" she asked, biting her lip as she watched the warmth fade away from his face to be replaced with weariness.
He crouched by a large bundle wrapped in vibrant red silk and held it out ot her. "A gift for you, first," he murmured, watching her with that intent, knowing gaze. "A coming of age is no small thing. It should be celebrated lavishly."
Midoriko froze, staring blankly at the bundle with a strange ache in her chest. The weight of it bore down on her, more than just the gift; an expectation she wanted desperately to meet. She took it with shaking hands, but could not bring herself to untie the knot—as if undoing it would unravel everything inside of her too.
"You do not wish to accept it?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral as he watched her, his gaze intent on her, patient, almost…hungry for the truths hidden deep inside of her.
The words pierced her and she blinked in confusion, suddenly aware of how long she had been silent before him. "No, that's not it," she said quickly, flustered. "I would never reject a gift from you."
He tilted his head to the side and raised a brow, an enigmatic smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Then what holds you back from opening it?"
Her throat constricted again. She swallowed, her hands tightening around the bundle as if it were a lifeline in the ravage of a ship wreck. "I've never received a gift before."
The words hung in the air between them, thick with a vulnerability she had never shared with him before, and she could see the softening of his gaze. He sat beside her then, slow and deliberate, giving her the space she needed to stop him if she wished to. With a gentle wave towards the bundle, he spoke now with a gentle tenderness she hadn't expected. "Then consider this the first of many."
She let out a shaky breath and met his gaze fully, the truth of her feelings clear in the tenderness of her own eyes. This gift was the first of many, but she didn't know how many there would be—how many times she could accept what he offered before she became lost in it.
But still, she nodded once and turned to the bundle again. Steadier this time, she picked it up and settled it in her lap before untying the knot. The red silk fluttered to the side as she loosened the knot and unfolded it—exposing a brilliant set of armor.
"It's youkai-made," he said, watching her as she drew a finger across a delicate panel. "Made from spider silk and dragon scales, reinforced with bones from a whale oni. It will stop all blows from human made weapons, and most by youkai ones as well. It will grow with you and heal itself over time, so it will never need to be repaired."
Midoriko could barely breath. This wasn't just armor—it was freedom and protection, and faith in her strength, all woven together specifically for her safety. She traced a finger over one scale, feeling the pulse of subdued power humming inside of it, steady and calm. It grounded her, anchoring her in the choices she'd made.
For the second time in the space of a day, she reached out in affection—taking his hand, she curled her palm into his and squeezed lightly. "Thank you, Masashi."
He looked down at their entwined hands, a flicker of something raw and unguarding crossing his features before he gathered himself and returned her affection. Her touch—the first she'd offered freely—anchored him as much sa it stirred something restless inside of him.
The silence between them, thick and warm, lasted until she gently pulled her hand free to examine the armor again. The loss of her touch left an ache in him he did not want to face. "You said you have news of something?" she asked distractedly, lifting it up inspect the buckles and ties.
Her pleasure in his gift soothed the beast inside of him, and though she did not understand the significance of such an extravagant present, it still satisfied him to give it to her. Only her question reminded him of the grim plans that might await them. Reaching into his haori, he withdrew a sealed missive. "A messenger from the House of the Moon sought me out," he said quietly, and held the scroll out reluctantly. "A message for you."
She didn't want to take the scroll from him. For the first time in her life, Midoriko wished for nothing more than to remain in this hidden, sun-dappled clearing and revel in the company of another being. Only the vow she had made the night before made her take it. The paper, protected by a wax-sealed cover, did not so much as crinkle in her grasp until she broke the seal and unrolled it.
Each word filled her with dread. Dragons. Dark miko. An untrained girl in need of miko training. She read the message and then stared into the shifting embers of the fire as she handed it to Masashi. The spirit the night before had showed her so many futures—which one would this lead to?
"What do you wish to do?" he asked at her side, setting the scroll on the ground between them.
She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sky, much as she had the night before, and let the sun warm her. "I made a vow last night," she murmured. "The Inu no Taisho calls for reinforcements. We shall answer him."
o.O.o
Word count – 4448
a/n – I know Midoriko and Masashi are not who you guys are here for, but from this point on their story will be integral for the rest of the story—so we'll be seeing more of them. Maybe after I finish this story, and the other ones I'm working on, I'll do a spin off so we can see more of their little interactions. Anyway, thanks for reading! As always, please review. It makes my day so much! Don't forget to check out my insta ( shewritesexcerpts) for updates, wips, and deleted scenes.