Notes: When are you going to bring back Benio Miss Midorikawa!!

Hinoe/Benio as a ship is funny to me — I mostly like them cause I think they’re very aesthetically pleasing, but concretely I’m not sure how well they’d actually work. In the tiny glimpses we get of their relationship it doesn’t seem like Hinoe likes Benio at all lol, and we don’t know what Benio’s feelings about her could be. But hey, that’s what fics are for. (Also, I guess technically they don’t entirely fit for Femfeb given yokai aren’t supposed to care much about gender — or at least Benio likely doesn’t. But well.)

Reiko gets mentioned a lot in this too and it was completely against my will… I didn’t intend to make her such a big part of the story but in the end that’s how it went. Sorry I guess I just love Reiko too much so I can’t help it haha.

Like I said in the tag, the Hinoe/Reiko is one-sided much like in canon; but although I don’t think she returned her feelings I do like the idea that Reiko was still fond of Hinoe in some way. It’s hard to tell what Reiko’s feelings on Hinoe were in canon given we only ever get Hinoe’s perspective, but I feel that’s something that might be implied too in the series.

* * *

The thing is, Benio don’t really understand the concept of caring.

Not for other yokai, and certainly, especially not for humans. She does understand it for herself, though; she certainly care about staying alive and feeling content and being entertained. But other people or beings or whatever they might be — that’s something she’s never managed to muster the slightest care for.

Benio lives for herself first and foremost, and truthfully, most ayakashi do as well.

She does understand the concept of respect, though. There are some yokai, usually the powerful ones, that she respects and whom she doesn’t like seeing disrespected. This is the case, for instance, of Lord Riou.

Benio has known Lord Riou for as long as she could remember — she has no idea who between the two of them is the oldest, but through their centuries of mutual coexistence, they probably share a similar lifespan. Ayakashi never pay much attention to time, after all; such a silly, superficial thing best left to the humans.

But Lord Riou does pay attention to time. He pays attention to respect, too — but where he deviates from Benio and most other inhabitants of the forest, is that he also respect, weirdly enough, the humans. That’s the odd particuliarity about Lord Riou — he cares, too much, about too many things. Useless things, like the humans. He cares about making the yokai of the forest, who venerate him like a king, respect humans too. “They’re living creatures just like us,” he said once. “So if you want to keep living on my territory, then you have to let them live in peace as well. I will not tolerate anything else.”

This is utterly ridiculous to Benio, and she knows most yokai think that way as well — after all, what good humans are really for? Poor frail little things, most of them not even capable of just sensing their presence, making a mess of everything that cross their path. They’re only good to torment and to eat for dinner — and even then not all of them are tasty. Most of the forest inhabitants think like this, but they still respect Riou too much to dare challenge him. Lord Riou is powerful, after all — and although he might be about the same age as Benio, he is definitely much, much stronger. And strength is law in their world.

But even with all this strength, Lord Riou never touch humans — because, for some stupid, unfathomable reason, Lord Riou loves them. He often disguises himself as one of their kin, spend time in their villages, play around, talk, laugh with them. And whenever he comes back, there’s a brightness in his eyes, an awed look on his face; and the wonder radiating from his being sometimes even makes it hard to just look at him. Because it makes Benio ponders what on earth he might’ve found in the human village that gave him this expression — what on earth might’ve gotten him to care so much.

“He got his heart stolen,” Lady Hinoe says during a party before laughing loudly. “What a pitiful thing.”

Benio doesn’t know Lady Hinoe very much. She’d seen her and talked to her a few times here and there, and she had heard of her even before that. Hinoe is quite famous around here, after all; the bearer of curses who loves stealing the hearts of innocent, pretty humans girls only to torment them later on — and who does much worse to human men. She’s among the only ayakashi allowed to speak poorly of Lord Riou in these parts, because she is also very strong and anyone daring to criticizes her would get themselves cursed.

They say she is actually a real romantic despite her habit of breaking human girls’ hearts — and that she goes around looking for female yokai lovers in desperate search of her one true love. Benio thinks this particular part is ridiculous — romance means caring, and caring is something that would never makes any sense to her. Yokai who so desperately tries to replicate humans’ stupid relationships and customs are the most abject of beings to her. Nevertheless, she has to admit that a part of her cannot help but be interested by Lady Hinoe. She is quite powerful and elegant and gorgeous, after all, and Benio loves beauty. She’ll always be a butterfly at heart, unable to resist the attraction of shiny pretty things. However, she does find Lady Hinoe too boisterous for her tastes, often lacking in delicacy, and so that actively discourages her to get any closer to her.

She thinks, however, that Lady Hinoe must be right about Lord Riou this time. He must have gotten a part of him stolen by the humans; and in turns, he often come back with things he took from them, too.

“I haven’t stolen anything from them, Benio,” he replies to her once, after pulling out an ugly fake puppy made of cotton he’d gotten from that human hunter he mentions regularly. Riou always takes the appearance of a child when he goes to the village, so that might be why the hunter thought he’d like a stuffed animal. “He gave it to me. As my friend.”

Benio snorts, and manage to not roll her eyes. “Friend. And what are you going to even do with this, Lord Riou?”

“Cherish it, of course. This is what gifts from people you love are for, don’t you agree?”

Benio huffs, and thinks, I don’t love people, even less so if these people are humans. And while she doesn’t say it out loud, Riou seems to read it on her face, because then he gives her a strange, fond look, and gently smile at her.

Benio thinks she hates that smile. Such a soft thing is unbefitting of being on the face of one of the strongest yokai she knows, one who rule over the forest.

“That’s a sad thing to not agree on. I hope you do, one day.”

And then Benio actually let herself laugh.

What a ridiculous king. She wishes she didn’t respect him as much.

* * *

Reiko Natsume. Lady Natsume. Natsume of the Book of Friends. Or, sometimes, just ‘Reiko’ or just ‘Natsume.’

Benio doesn’t really remember when that human’s name started spreading like wildfire among yokai, but the moment it did it seemed to be all they could talk about. She seemed like a disease, almost; poisoning and destroying everything on her way. She mercilessly took the names of any who dared to oppose her, weaponizing such terrifying powers, and she quickly became a legend among the forest and mountains; a girl as powerful as a god and as scary as an oni.

Among all these rumors, Benio can’t really tell the truth from the lie, but no one is spared. Even Lord Riou gets challenged by her and, stunningly, actually loses — which the whole forest still hasn’t gotten over. And, maybe unsurprisingly, even Lord Madara and Lady Hinoe seems taken by the strange phenomenon.

“Lord Madara, what’s going on with Lady Hinoe?” Benio asks the large wolfish creature one night.

Benio has known Madara for quite some time; although much like Riou, she wouldn’t be able to tell how many. He is older than her, though, she is pretty sure; older than most ayakashi around, really. Much like Benio, he doesn’t like people, yokai or humans — so that’s a rarity to see him at a party. The only thing the grumpy Lord Madara seems to enjoy is his sake, but he generally prefer to enjoy it alone; that’s why Benio was so surprised to see him here tonight.

Although he does seem more social lately, for some reason. Coincidentally since Natsume has started hanging around here. Madara is hard to get along with, but Benio finds him amusing. He is always complaining and trying to keep his distance with everyone, but at the end of the day, he is not that different from Lord Riou — both have a heart way too soft for all the power they possesses; but the difference is that Lord Riou wear that heart in his sleeve, while Lord Madara tries to hide it has much as possible.

The beast slurps at his large cup of sake, then snorts as his gaze poise on the blue-haired yokai slumped against a tree. She’s alone, frowning, and clearly not having a great time. In fact, it doesn’t even seem like she wants to be here at all.

“She’s gotten rejected by Natsume,” he explains, and Benio arches an eyebrow.

“Natsume? Did she stole her name?”

“Worse. She stole her heart.”

Benio blinks. Doesn’t really understand the meaning of that until long, long seconds later.

“What?”

“Natsume didn’t even want her name. Hinoe got smitten, but the girl doesn’t want to have anything to do with her.”

“S— Smitten? Lady Hinoe? With a human?”

That sounds so ridiculous Benio can’t even wrap her mind around it. Lady Hinoe fooled around with human girls a lot, but only to torment them. She certainly never had any real feelings for them. Even a yokai falling for another yokai in itself was ludicrous, so for a human?

How shameful. Disgusting. Benio can’t even bear the idea.

“The girl turned her trick on her,” Lord Madara continues. “How pathetic.”

“You say this as if you don’t spend all your time hanging out around that Natsume human as well,” another ayakashi throws at Lord Madara, and then a couple others chuckles. The moment the old wolf glares at them, however, they cut it off instantly.

It is true, though. Benio has heard about Lord Madara’s strange habit to spend time with the girl as well. Which is even more mesmerizing than Lady Hinoe’s newfound love to her, given how much he hates people. Not that she’d actually say that to his face, of course — she values her life too much.

Benio sighs, then, after a moment of consideration, she leaves Lord Madara’s side and approaches Lady Hinoe. She sit down next to her, but Hinoe barely acknowledges her presence.

“Good evening, Lady Hinoe. Don’t you look lovely tonight,” she says, and Hinoe huffs.

“Go away, Benio. I don’t want to entertain you.”

“So that is true, then? You got infatuated with some human? How disgraceful.”

“Reiko isn’t ‘some human.’ Watch your tongue.”

Benio scoffs. “What is so special about that girl, anyway? Is she the big one true love you’ve been looking for?”

Finally, Lady Hinoe turns her head towards her, red eyes glaring and red lips tight with anger. Benio don’t look away. Lady Hinoe is stronger than her, but that doesn’t mean Benio fear her, either.

“Someone like you could never understand.”

And Hinoe’s probably right, too. Benio never cared for caring about anyone but her, after all.

Even so, she doesn’t leave Lady Hinoe. She stays there, next to her, for the rest of the party — and it’s not to comfort her, certainly not, but even Benio wouldn’t be able to tell a reason if anyone asked.

* * *

Benio finds out what the big deal about Reiko Natsume is not long after that.

It all happens very quickly; one moment she was simply leisurely walking down the river as usual, and the next she found herself spectator of a conflict between a young girl and a dozen of tsuchigumo wanting to skin her alive. The human has no problem taking them down all at once thanks to a weird long, polished stick covered in talismans, and Benio watches the whole thing take place without a sound, a little bemused. She wasn’t going to feel bad for the tsuchigumo — as a butterfly yokai herself she very much was not their biggest fan — but she did feel quite baffled a little human girl was able to demonstrate such a show of strength.

It doesn't take long for Benio to realize that this girl was none other than the infamous Reiko Natsume, owner of the Book of Friends — after all, who else could it be? There certainly were no other human around that would fit the description. When she noticed Benio’s presence after her showdown with the tsuchigumo, Natsume grinned and challenged her to a match — but Benio liked her name and independence too much to accept it. She changed into a butterfly and flew off before the girl could say anything more, and she seemed quite shocked to have been rebutted that way. Benio supposes that didn’t happen very often to her, after all — and she would learn later the only other ayakashi who had ever refused one of her games was Lord Madara himself.

Benio kept catching glimpses of Reiko Natsume here and there after that. Sometimes with Madara, sometimes with Hinoe, sometimes alone. And… well — for as much as Benio had been pretty annoyed by the obsession the yokai of the forest had for that child, right now, she had to admit that she did start to feel intrigued. At least a little. There was definitely something… special, emanating from this girl. She was just so different from other humans, so mesmerizing; a little scary, a little endearing, a little sad; and it was hard not to be captivated. She was also quite pretty, with her long silver hair and sharp green eyes — and on that sense, Benio supposed Lady Hinoe didn’t have bad tastes. Benio was not, would never be, enthralled by such a creature — Benio did not care. But the more she caught sight of the little human girl, the more the ambient fascination made sense.

But at the very least she felt relieved that she would never behave as ridiculously as Lady Hinoe when it came to Reiko Natsume. The poor thing seemed to have completely thrown her pride away; whenever the girl was around or even just mentioned, she would become so utterly joyful, ecstatic, euphoric. Desperate to get her attention or please her in anyway. Benio had never seen her like that before, ever.

And despite how beautiful Lady Hinoe usually was, Benio could barely stand to stare at her in that state.

It is during one sunny summer morning that Benio comes across Lady Hinoe in the strangest form of all. She is, as often lately, in a particular good mood; humming to herself, spinning around like a little child with a big smile; but her expression isn’t the only strange thing. What she’s wearing is.

This is a dress. A human dress, Benio presumes — and more than presumes, actually, she realizes while scrunching her nose because that thing stinks of humans. How is Lady Hinoe able to wear this without throwing up is baffling.

It is of a delicate, deep scarlet color, all in lace and fluff, tightening Lady Hinoe’s silhouette from the shoulders to the knee and leaving her arms completely bare. Maybe Benio would find it pretty if it wasn’t for the fact this is something clearly made for humans by humans, and humans are the ugliest thing in the world.

(Well, except Reiko Natsume, but she does not count. Benio sometimes even doubt that this girl is human at all.)

Lady Hinoe finally notices her presence as she stops being busy contemplating her silhouette in the surface of the river. She turns around, her strawberry lips matching her eyes and dress smiling brightly at her — and if Benio’s heart twitches a little at the sight, well, she simply ignores it, like she does most things she doesn’t like. Lady Hinoe must be in an especially good mood today for her to smile like this at Benio of all people, instead of her face crumpling in distaste like she usually does upon seeing her.

“Oh ho! Look who’s here, if that isn’t Benio.” She spins around once again, then take a pan of her dress in order to show off the outfit. “How do I look?”

Benio arches an eyebrow at her cheerfulness. “Human.”

She can’t help it. She certainly would never gave a compliment to anyone when they’re wearing something man-made, and even less so to Lady Hinoe.

The bearer of curses groan, then roll her eyes. “Well, yes, it is.”

“And you’re still wearing it.”

“I do. I don’t like human things, but this one is different.”

“Different how so?”

Hinoe grins, almost smugly, as if she knows a secret nobody else knows. “Reiko gave it to me.”

Somehow, that might explains the blasphemous sight of a yokai wearing humans’ clothes she has in front of her, but that only manage to make Benio feel even more confused.

“Why would she do that?”

Finally, Lady Hinoe’s smile falter a little at this, and a slight frown take its place instead. “That, I’m not really sure. She just told me she ended up getting this dress, but she doesn’t like it, so she gave it to me instead.”

“How nice of her.”

“Isn’t it? To think I’m the first woman she thinks of when she needs to give a dress to someone!”

And she is sincere, too. Her red eyes are shining, her cheeks are tainted of a slight blush and her smile is so big it might threaten to swallow her whole face. She looks so happy, and so in love, and Benio’s mouth turns to ashes.

She cannot believe how delusional Lady Hinoe is when it comes to Reiko Natsume. She doesn’t even have the heart to point out the poor lonely girl probably doesn’t even know any other woman besides Hinoe — as much as a yokai can be called a ‘woman,’ anyway — and that she literally said she did not like that dress. It isn’t a sweet, thoughtful gift, more like something Natsume didn’t know what to do with and threw at Lady Hinoe at random because she wanted to get rid of it.

(Although truthfully, why didn’t she just threw it in the trash then is a bit of a mystery.)

But Lady Hinoe doesn’t even seem to care about any of that. To her, it is a nice gesture from Natsume towards her, specifically — and so she accepts it like birds throwing themselves at bread crumbs.

“She even called me beautiful, you know? She said it’d fit me. So I’ve decided I was just going to wear it all the time now. Maybe then she’ll keep calling me beautiful!”

“I think she’d rather you stop following her around like that all the time. Doesn’t humans have a word for that? And they threw people in cages for it as well?”

Lady Hinoe rolls her eyes. “I don’t ‘follow her around all the time.’ And anyway, that’s not the topic now. You still haven’t answered my question. Do I look good? I think I’ll try a new haircut too, so I need to know.”

Benio feels like she’s facing a strange dilemma. There can only be one response to this question, because truthfully Lady Hinoe is beautiful and, objectively speaking, so is this dress despite its… humanness, so there’s no way she cannot say yes. But the whole perspective of Lady Hinoe, the cruel, powerful bearer of curses, dressing up in a human dress just to pleases a human girl and having the slight, slight chance of gaining a little bit of her care, is so nauseating to Benio.

She may understand the fascination for Natsume, but she just cannot, no matter what, wrap her mind around why Lady Hinoe let herself degrade herself like this that badly.

“You know she’s going to die one day, right?” She says instead of replying. “Quicker than you’ll realize, too. One day you’ll blink and she’ll be all wrinkled and gray-haired and she’ll be a rotting corpse before you even notice it. You know that, right?”

And Benio doesn’t think she’s being particularly cruel here — this is something only normal, logical, to know about. This is one of the reasons why caring for humans — for anyone, really, but especially for humans — is so utterly ridiculous.

This is why Benio refuses to be as stupid as Lady Hinoe and Lord Madara and all those other dull-witted yokai who got their names and hearts stolen and yearn endlessly for the affection of a girl who doesn’t even know how to love.

Benio may enjoy Reiko Natsume, may have fun watching her dominates the forest — but she’ll never, ever allows herself to love her.

But then at her words Hinoe’s face crumple. It feels as if Benio told her the most evil thing she’s ever heard, and she first briefly looks afflicted before quickly switching to anger — and Benio instinctively flinch, then, because an angry Lady Hinoe is never something good to witness.

“Right,” she says with so much spite Benio feel a chill going down her spine. “I don’t know why I even bothered to ask you. I don’t care what you think. Go be a miserable, bitter insect and die all alone in a corner without anyone caring for you.”

And then Lady Hinoe simply turns around and leaves, and Benio thinks she would’ve preferred she put a curse on her instead. Although she feels a little like she was forced to suddenly swallows a thousands of needles, so maybe she did curse her after all, Benio just hasn’t noticed it.

Once the shock fade away, however, it is Benio’s turn to feel angry. Because who is being the fool here, really? Benio is the one who’s going to die alone and miserable, when Hinoe’s the idiot pinning for a mortal girl she’ll never have?

Benio may die alone, one day, in a few thousands of centuries, but she will most certainly not die miserable.

Because unlike Hinoe, and Madara, and Riou and all those other mindless dunces, she knows perfectly what to expects from life and doesn’t try to yearn for anything more.

On that sense, she is pretty sure that she and Reiko Natsume are exactly the same.

* * *

The day the owner of the Book of Friends disappears plunge the forest into deep, deep mourning.

So many of the forest inhabitants looks for her, begs for her presence, calls her name — but as usual, Reiko Natsume is cold and unfeeling and she never, ever calls anyone back.

Benio has no idea what happened to her, but one day she just stopped coming — and that shouldn’t be surprising, really, with that whimsical girl, but it doesn’t change the feeling of something being suddenly missing. Benio doesn’t really think she’s dead — because truthfully, no matter how much she made fun of Lady Hinoe for seemingly thinking Reiko Natsume would always be here, there’s something a little… everlasting, about that girl. She is a human, a mortal, but she doesn’t really seems like one — so the idea of anyone getting the best of her sounds ludicrous.

But she stops coming. Regardless of what actually happened to her, that still means she’s not here anymore; and so she might as well be dead. Most yokai around seems to understand that and starts mourning her as such. Even Lord Misuzu of the swamp has become much more quieter than usual.

This is also followed by the disappearance of Lord Riou — and then of Lord Madara. It almost feels like the girl took those two down with her, even if she feels that can’t be right. Although it might be for Lord Madara. He was, after all, spending most of his time with her, so it wouldn’t be surprising if he was somehow involved in her sudden vanishment.

Benio doesn’t mourn. She never cared for Reiko Natsume, she keeps repeating to herself — so whether she comes or not to the forest anymore, it is none of business.

Benio doesn’t mourn, and doesn’t care — but sometimes, ever so slightly, she feels like she can catch the sight of a silver thread behind a tree, of a fluttering skirt at the detour of a bushes, the swing of a stick covered in talismans whenever she sees a tsuchigumo; and every time she’s proven to be wrong, she feels her heart deflates in disappointment, in a strange sadness that she doesn’t quite understand. Doesn’t really let herself understand.

That’s an ache in her chest that an uncaring person like her doesn’t need — that she swore to herself she would never feel, and she just… doesn’t know what to do with it.

She tries to bear it; doesn’t have any other choice. Hopes it’ll fade away with time.

(It doesn’t.

And then she feels like the biggest fool of them all — because for as much as she looked down on all those other yokai who let themselves gets attached, she’s really not that different.

She preserved her name, but her heart was snatched away regardless.)

That aches that Benio feels, however, is clearly nothing in comparison to what Lady Hinoe must feel.

Truthfully, she doesn’t really sees her in the days and weeks and months that follows Natsume’s disappearance. Mostly because Hinoe spend all this time looking for her, and the few times Benio catch sight of her is when she’s coming back to the forest, alone and empty handed and with eyes darker than hell itself. Benio vaguely heard rumors of Natsume and Hinoe having had a falling out of sorts before she left, so she wonders if maybe, on top of missing her, Hinoe simply feels guilty. Maybe she thinks Natsume is deliberately ignoring her; which, for all she knows, might actually be true. She looks like a ghost, wandering around looking for the girl, doing favors for random yokai so that they might maybe give her the slightest bit of information about her lost beloved.

None of it works, of course, because Benio has no doubt that if Reiko Natsume doesn’t want to be found, no one will be able to do it. So the months and years goes by, and Lady Hinoe looks more and more wretched; just a shadow of her former glorious self. She has no interest in tricking and tormenting young girls anymore, no interest in the parties and sake, no interest in throwing curse around just because she can. The yokai still speak about Natsume of the Book of Friends, in discreet whispers and awed voices, but the more time flow by with no sight of the girl, and the more she feels like an actual legend, sometimes posing doubt as to whether she even really existed in the first place.

One day, Benio come across Lady Hinoe in the dim light of a clearing. She’s all alone, her long blue hair cascading her shoulders, wearing her usual kimono. She’s staring down at something, on the ground, with vacant eyes.

Benio wishes she could say meeting Lady Hinoe here is a coincidence, like it is most times, but… it isn’t. She’s actually been keeping an eye on her for some time now, even tracking her around. If Hinoe noticed that, she did not make any mentions of it.

Benio doesn’t do it because she cares. She doesn’t. This is just… out of curiosity. To sees what Lady Hinoe intends to do next.

And that pitiful sight in front of her — a disheveled woman, shadow of the mighty, feared yokai she used to be, also does nothing to her heart. No ache at all. Benio doesn’t feel angry in the slightest about seeing someone as powerful and beautiful as Lady Hinoe in such a state, when she should know better — when she should’ve known better from the start.

“You knew she was going to leave at some point, right?” Benio asks. Lady Hinoe doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move. “If not leave, she would have died one day. Or what? Did you think you could convince her to stay here her whole life? That you would’ve been able to — turn her into one of us, somehow?”

Not that it would’ve been impossible. Humans turning into yokai are not uncommon, after all; although Benio herself has met very few of them. And for someone as unhappy, lonely and powerful as Reiko Natsume, who had already been shunned by her own kin and sometimes even barely felt human at all — well, honestly, it probably wouldn’t have have been that hard or surprising. Though the idea very much repulse Benio.

In some way, humans are much like butterflies; they live only for an instant and disappear just as soon — but there's still a major difference between them, and it's their ways of life. Benio was blessed to become a yokai, but humans should just stay humans. They do not possesses the aptitude to becomes eternal creatures defying their fates. Is that any wonder that every human-turned-yokai she’s heard of are miserable beings that are only talked about as tragedies, unable to truly fit in and accept their newfound condition? Benio never missed her past before turning into a yokai, but that’s because she used to only be a mindless insect with no dreams or wishes of her own. A human, on the other hand, would always mourn the former life they got robbed of.

But this is also the only thing that Benio have over Reiko Natsume. She’ll never be as strong or as fascinating as her or win over Lady Hinoe’s heart as thoroughly as she did, but at least Benio would get to share that eternal life with Hinoe.

“I knew,” Lady Hinoe suddenly says without looking up from the ground, almost surprising Benio. “I knew… that she was going to be gone one day.” She chuckles, but it sounds empty, even to Benio’s ears. “Truthfully, I also knew she didn’t care much for me. I’m not like Madara; I was only one of many yokai to her — and she probably has already forgotten all about me. She didn’t even judge me interesting enough to have in her Book.”

Benio doesn’t point out Lord Madara wasn’t in the Book of Friends either. She isn’t sure what it means, if it means anything at all; but she doesn’t think her name being in the Book or not is any indication of Natsume’s feelings for Lady Hinoe either way.

But it’s not like it matter much anymore.

Reiko Natsume is gone, so no one will ever be able to tell.

“Why are you still here?” Lady Hinoe asks, and suddenly she lifts her head towards Benio.

Her ruby eyes are very dark, very empty; and Benio… Benio, as it has often been the case in the last few years, can’t stand to look at them. Can’t stand to see her eyes so dull and dead.

That is not a look that the great Lady Hinoe, bearer of the curses, should have.

She might have found her disgusting, but she would take back the lively, cheerful Lady Hinoe in love any day over this one.

So for once, Benio decides to be honest.

“I thought you would need the company.”

Lady Hinoe stares at her in silence. It is like she is trying to gauge the veracity of those words, and Benio actually wishes she can tell that she is being honest.

But then the moment is gone, and Hinoe just laughs.

“I don’t want company.”

Lady Hinoe turns around, and it is only now that Benio realizes what the other ayakashi has been staring at all this time on the ground: the scarlet human dress. It looks dirty and teared apart at the seams, and Benio looks down at it curiously, as if not comprehending what she’s seeing.

Hinoe cared so much for that dress. Treasured it so much, like a precious diamond; like it was Reiko Natsume herself. And now she just decided to leave it on the ground carelessly, letting it get dirtied and muddied by the forest like that?

“That dress…”

“I don’t need it anymore. I doubt Reiko cared that much about it anyway.”

Lady Hinoe leaves, long hair sweeping in her back, not even sparing a single glance at the dress or Benio.

And Benio, miserably, shamefully, pathetically, aches.

She aches at Reiko Natsume’s departure, she aches at Hinoe’s pitiful state, she aches at the pretty human dress, the cherished gift, now drowning in mud all by itself.

Benio never know how to handle that ache — so in an attempt to soothe it, she bends down and get back the piece of cloth.

* * *

Reiko Natsume’s grandson is just like her and just not like her in all the parts that matters.

Their physical resemblance is striking; so much it is a little disturbing to see. He has her face and her eyes and her hair and her frightening powers, but his smile is genuine and kind, his voice is soft, his words friendly. Whereas Reiko only communicated through fighting and stealing, Takashi talks and gives back. Benio cannot stop thinking about his statement, when she first met him, about him wanting to be “a bridge between humans and yokai.”

How ridiculous, she’d thought then. But the more she watches him — the more good he’s able to do throughout the forest and the more yokai he’s able to help — the more a part of her feel this wish might not just be some stupid throwaway words.

He cares too much, just like Riou and Madara and Hinoe, and as Benio keeps on watching him, she wonders when that caring is inevitably going to cost him.

Just like what happened to Lord Riou. Although he might be back now, that caring took so much out of him that he decided to swear off seeing humans ever again. And Benio is glad for him, too. She certainly doesn’t understand how anyone would to keep doing this after getting hurt this badly.

She thought Lady Hinoe and Lord Madara would have come to the same conclusion as Lord Riou after what happened with Reiko Natsume too — but, bewilderingly, they don’t. It seems the both of them still ended up falling head over heels over her grandson regardless.

So Benio watches.

She watches the boy and his merry group of monsters from afar —and feel some longing, some aches over seeing this human child who looks so much like Reiko Natsume but isn’t her; and then she suddenly realizes that she’s starting to grow the same fascination and attachment for him that she had for his grandmother. So much for not wanting to stay with humans, like she said to Lord Madara.

She inadvertently end up joining Takashi Natsume’s silly yokai followers half against her will — friends, he calls them, just like what Lord Riou called his humans — and party with them, while her brain keeps screaming at her that she would do better to cut ties and run away from here before she gets contaminated by the strange illness that has taken over Lady Hinoe and Lord Madara years and years before. She knows how the story ends. She’s seen it, experienced it before with Reiko Natsume — and it is not a happy story.

But she doesn’t run away.

She stays, while doing her best to keep on not caring.

(It doesn’t really work.)

It is one night, to her utter surprise, that Lady Hinoe comes to see her out of the blue. That has never happened before; usually, they only each other by coincidence, at parties, or Benio is the one seeking her out. Although she stopped doing this since the last time they saw each other after Reiko Natsume’s disappearance.

But this time, Lady Hinoe visits her on her own at Benio’s cozy little clearer hidden next to a large summer lilac. Benio doesn’t have a home the way humans does — unless the whole of the forest count as one — but this is the place she enjoys coming back to when she needs rest and silence. This isn’t a secret, either, so Lady Hinoe knowing about it shouldn’t be odd — yet Benio can’t hide her surprise, staring at her in stunned silence. Hinoe chuckles.

“What’s the long face for? Can’t I go visit an old friend when I want to?”

“I had no idea we were friends,” Benio replies, actually genuine. She could give a lot of names to her relationship with Lady Hinoe, but friends isn’t one of them.

“Natsume calls you his friend, and I’m Natsume’s friend.”

“Even if I were to agree that I am indeed young Natsume’s friend, that still would not make us friends.”

“Heh. Well, I suppose not. Then again, believe it or not, you’re not the worst ayakashi to hang around with. Plus, I like your female appearance.”

Benio snorts. Although she is also someone who’s always put a lot of importance into the appearances of others — she would never give the time of day to anyone even remotely ugly to her tastes — she never understood Lady Hinoe’s obsession for those human gender things either.

“I just wanted to see you, I guess,” Lady Hinoe says. “I was surprised to see you started hanging out with Natsume too. I mean, he’s not really the type you take an interest in usually — and you always says humans disgusts you. Well, you don’t really take interest in anyone in general.”

“That is true. But that child did save Lord Riou. Lord Madara seems fond of him. And,” she says with some hesitance, proceeding carefully with her next words. “He is still Reiko Natsume’s grandson. That alone make him worthy of interest.”

Lady Hinoe chuckles again, but doesn’t add anything else.

“…You seem to be doing fine,” Benio declares after some seconds of silence.

“Hmm? Do I?”

“After Reiko Natsume left, you were a mess. I was wondering if you’d ever go back to normal.”

Lady Hinoe appears to contemplates the words for a moment. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back to how I was before Reiko,” she says, a quiet sadness in her voice. “She changed me too much. But… that’s true. I am better. I still can’t fathom the fact she is actually dead, though. Even after she disappeared, I kept hoping that maybe one day she’ll…” She shake her head. “Well, it was stupid. I’ve come to terms with it now. And I’m glad I got to meet her grandson, he’s a funny child. Very disappointing he’s a boy, though.”

Lady Hinoe’s apparent fondness for the Natsume boy is more surprising than Benio hanging out with him, truthfully. After all, not only is he a man, but he’s also the type of person Lady Hinoe usually dislikes — too frail, too gentle, too self-sacrificing. And yet she seems almost as attached to him as she was to his grandmother. Maybe the boy does have some strange magical powers.

“…I’m curious to see that you’re not jealous.”

“Jealous?” Hinoe repeats.

“Of Reiko Natsume’s supposed lover. I would think you would hate it. That she found someone else, especially a man.”

“Oh.” Lady Hinoe seems to ponder over this, then shake her head. “Maybe I would have, years ago. I can’t say I’m happy about it either, but… After she left, I kept wondering what her life might be like. I wondered if she was still lonely. If she found someone who truly loved her, then that is not something I can possibly be angry about, right? …Even if it was a man.”

Maybe that makes sense. In a way, she’d already mourned Reiko Natsume’s death throughout all those decades. Maybe she’d actually accepted long ago the fact there was no way a human like Reiko, no matter how exceptional, would ever build a life with a yokai and that it was only natural she’d settle down with another one of her kind one day.

Lady Hinoe’s gaze suddenly leaves Benio’s eyes to fixates on something behind her. A rock, that stands right under the summer lilac, and Benio almost feel her heart skip a beat as she realizes what the other ayakashi is staring at.

There is a piece of cloth, on the rock. An old lace dress, of a deep scarlet color.

At first, neither of them speak a single word; until Lady Hinoe finally opens her mouth, and murmurs, in a barely audible voice: “You kept it.”

“…I did.”

“Why?”

Lady Hinoe’s slender, manicured fingers grabs the dress, slowly caressing the tissue. Although it is now quite old, it’s still been kept very clean and polished; Benio has made sure of it. She took care of it carefully for all those years, hidden away from prying eyes, as if it was still waiting for someone to put it on.

Benio can’t answer her question. There is no logical reason that would’ve pushed her to do such a thing; no explanation that would makes sense for her character, with her way of life.

The only reason that could be given is a sentimental one; that it was a present once given to a yokai by a human, a gift like that plush Lord Riou kept so preciously. Something that has no meaning, but once made that yokai so very happy.

The only reason Benio would’ve done something like this is if she were to care for Lady Hinoe — and there is no way she would allow herself that.

“I don’t know,” is thus the only thing she can say; and then Hinoe looks at her and, bewilderingly, actually smile. If she didn’t know any better, Benio would almost feel embarrassed because it almost feel like Lady Hinoe saw right through her lie.

“Well… You did a good job at keeping it intact. It almost looks exactly like the day Reiko gave it to me.”

“…Maybe we could give it to her grandson.”

Lady Hinoe laughs. “And what would he do with it? He’s a boy, remember?”

“Does human boys not wear dresses? I’ll never understand human customs.”

Lady Hinoe shake her head, though Benio doesn’t know if it’s because she thinks she’s being stupid or because she agrees with her statement.

“Reiko didn’t even like that dress anyway. That’s why she gave it to me.”

Sadness permeates her words once more, before being swept away as she looks at Benio again.

“Thanks for keeping it,” she says. “I was a fool to throw it away, and I actually regretted it afterwards. It does mean a lot to me… especially now that she’s not here anymore.” She hesitates a little, and a bit more bashfully, she adds: “You won’t ever hear that from me again, but I wanted to say I was sorry for how I treated you before. You were right, too. Obviously, caring so much for Reiko was stupid, but… But I still don’t regret it. Despite everything.”

Benio doesn’t answer, and tries not to look away, tries not to let the warmth that blossoms through her chest not show too much on her face. She wonders if Lady Hinoe can tell anyway, because she grins back at her.

“You never did tell me how you thought I looked in it. Was I beautiful?”

Lady Hinoe doesn’t regret caring for Reiko Natsume, for her grandson, but Benio does. She knows caring only leads to bad things. Only leads to regret and suffering.

Yokai don’t need caring. But then, she thinks about the look in Lord Riou’s eyes as he spoke of his human friends, of the way Lord Madara’s face lit up when he is at the Natsume boy’s sides, at Lady Hinoe’s shining figure when she was in love with the Natsume girl.