雪の前に

And Inuyasha still didn’t give a damn. “You don’t have to thank me,” the snowy-haired male said. It always irked him when people did that. His gaze settled onto her eyes, a brow quirking as he found himself absently wondering if she was really blind or if it was an act. Because that was entirely possible… though he doubted she was the lying type.

"Priest?" he repeated, tilting his head slightly. "D’you mean Miroku? I don’t see why it’d be necessary to talk to him, but—"

"As I thought," came a voice, and coming down the nearest corridor was the monk he spoke of. "It’s no wonder I felt several spiritual presences at once… and that laughing too… It broke my meditation." And made Miroku think he was going insane for a second. Stopping at Inuyasha’s side and flicking his indigo gaze to Yukio, he asked, "You’re an itako, yes?"

It was clear that the monk who stood before her now was another man of great power.

And great knowledge, it seemed, for he had no trouble identifying her - and the existence of the Itako was not a well-known fact at all, let alone their continued existence.

"I am," she murmured, and closed her pale eyes. "My name is Yukio, Houshi-sama. Yukio of Bodai-ji and Osorezan."

Osorezan - the mountain of fear, the entrance to the underworld - and Bodai-ji, the Buddhist temple that housed the shinto shrine and Itako and served as a gateway to the land of the dead. Those names would, at least, be familiar.

"The Itako were my order, Inuyasha-sama," and a sad smile tugged at her mouth as she spoke. "We are - were a specialized group of shrine workers, uniquely suited to helping spirits pass onto the next life. Which would be the laughter you felt, Houshi-sama." Yukio frowned, and the Children felt her warning acutely. Still, laughter flashed Warm and Silver through her mind. 

Children were Children, no matter how alive or otherwise.

"I must apologize for their behavior - you see, my Guides had been children before they died."

She sighed, lifted a hand, pressed it to one temple. None of this conversation was helping her image as an actual helpful and necessary sort of shrine maiden and was instead making her seem uniquely creepy and potentially evil. 

Crossing his arms in his sleeves, the hanyou continued to listen intently and parted his lips to speak once she finished explaining her situation to him. “He sounds like a rotten bastard who deserves to be done away with himself,” came his gruff reply, dripping with disdain. Perhaps he had a soft spot for miko—that could be why he felt so open to helping her. She was blind and her life was on the line; he’d be just as cruel as the one who got her into such circumstances if he refused.

"Really? Truly?"

She could hardly believe her ears. Still - would he force her to leave if he ever discovered what she was? For a demon of his caliber she was surprised he could not sense the Children - but she decided not to push her luck. Perhaps he would come to understand with time that what she did was a necessary thing. In the meantime, she could hide here from the lord of Aomori - and perhaps one day she would live to return to Bodaiji and reinstate the Itako.

"Your brother - I have heard many stories of both of you, of your benevolence." Even up north, the generosity of Inu-no-Taisho and his sons (one son more than the other, to be sure, but still -) had become something legendary. It was part of what led her south in the first place.

That, and a frantic, whispered conversation from her eldest 'sister.' Head south. Find the Inuyoukai. They will take you in.

She hadn't been wrong. 

The Children crept out from underneath her skin as relief radiated through her body. For now, she had no more walking to do.

"Those stories were not wrong. I - I cannot thank you enough." She took a step in the direction of that tightly controlled youki, toward the feeling of firered and Silver. "I won't be a burden, I promise - I can care for shrines, purify air and water. I'm also well acquainted with Buddhist rituals and - is there a priest here? Should I speak with him?"

She’ll be pretty damn lucky if Sesshomaru decides to tolerate her.

And she was blind? Oh, he could definitely kill her off with little to no effort then. “Nah, you’re at the right place… I’m Inuyasha.” He watched as the door was closed behind her, and dark eyebrows knitted into a frown as his golden hues flicked over her face.

She considered his questions. Could she trust him? She might... she might have to, given the situation. Still - perhaps she would leave out certain things for now. Like the Children. He did not necessarily need to know that she was essentially a homing beacon for ghosts.

"My order -" she started, then swallowed hard.

"Excuse me - it's still hard to talk about." She felt older than her seventeen years. She had never truly had a childhood, but this made her back ache and cast her posture down. The knowledge that she was the only Itako left weighed heavy on her shoulders. She coughed, and tried again.

"I come from... the north. My order was a small one, set upon a mountain far away from most other people. But - perhaps... a month ago, a daimyo... sacked our temple. Destroyed it all. I am given to believe that I am the only survivor left."

She tucked her hands into her sleeves, sightless eyes cast downward as she spoke. "I have been walking since then. If it is all the same, Inuyasha-sama... I would rather not go back. I have no wish to die yet."

Just because she worked closely with the dead did not mean she wanted to join them. Her elder sisters had all lived long, lives - happy in their quiet way - until the lord of Aomori had decided to destroy Bodai-ji. It was now upon her to make sure the Itako survived and returned, eventually, to Aomori.

"Excuse us. We-" Hana started.

These two - two? ...Yes, there were two of them, though tightly wound enough that perhaps they were inseparable - felt different to her. Cleaner, perhaps. Not unlike the little kit she'd met earlier.

She turned her head to one side, bowed in the direction of the voices.

There was a soft rustling of haori and hakama as Inuyasha rose to his feet and made his way out of the room and down the corridor. The door opened—he could hear the creak of it ringing through his ears. Who the hell was coming inside like they owned the place? It sure wasn’t Sesshomaru since he would have felt the flare of youki that came with the daiyoukai. 

He’d made it to the entrance just in time to see a tiny figure standing there in the open doorway—a priestess, but to him she came off more like a ghost in a priestess’s garb. No wonder he’d felt so strange… similar to how he felt whenever he crossed paths with Kikyou’s vessel of clay and grave soil. That’s who she immediately reminded him of. That pale skin and dark hair didn’t help any, and those eyes—what was up with them?

She turned toward the voice, pressing a hand to her heart as she ducked her head and her chin touched her shoulder. It was an expression of both reverence and humility - and it struck her in that instance that she had essentially just walked into someone's home without being invited.

She was used to temples, and open grounds.

Well - she would learn.

"I apologize," she said, her voice soft and low. Like she was speaking to an anguished child.

"My name is Yukio -" She paused - what to say? Should she tell the truth? Would they send her back to her death and the death of her order?

"Just... just Yukio," she continued, and let her eyes close. "I am a wandering miko and servant to the gods - I came seeking... protection." 

Seeking protection meant that she was running from something, but perhaps she did not need to detail what. 

"I was told that the lord Sesshoumaru and his famed brother Inuyasha would offer protection to a miko such as myself. Perhaps I am in the wrong place - I... was lost on my way here." 

Now she turned her ear away from the voice, and opened her eyes fully - useless to her, but perhaps the man would see and understand.

And when she spoke next, her voice held just a touch of irony.

It was cold up north, still. She could feel it acutely in her bones, or at least the parts of her that weren’t consumed by death. Her haori and hakama were warm, but they were not by any stretch of the imagination ‘winter wear.’ 

Aomori was cold, but Bodai-ji had always been heated and welcome to both the living… and the dead. 

But now Bodai-ji was empty of Itako and Houshi and full of soldiers and dead bodies with nobody to help them to pass on, and Yukio was left wandering blindly, hoping nobody would realize what exactly she was.

Her sightless eyes stared forward always, but her head turned with any subtle movement or sound from her surroundings. Though blind, she was not helpless; in fact, quite the opposite, for she had eyes - they were simply not hers.

A frigid temperature that was utterly supernatural settled in at the tips of her fingers and caused her to flex her hands. Cold was here, which meant that Warmth would be close behind.

go—

The word floated in her mind and painted an icy image in her head - a roughly sketched outline of doors, perhaps? Some kind of temple?

The monks might take her in.

It would not be far, now.