I leaned forward to move, the slightest twitch, my feet steadfast, but he held up a hand with one pointed finger to stop me. His other hand dangled around the hilt of a blade at his side. His fingers stretched to draw my attention to them, then swiftly closed around the hilt once more. My eyes darted to his face, a glint of a smile. Just the forest playing tricks on my mind. I had been in solitude for so long, the spirit I kept company with had finally begun to bewitch me.
I ran. With the forward momentum in my chest I turned, and I let my feet hit the grass, the patches of snow, as fast as they could carry me, banishing thoughts of loosing my grip or balance. My eyes were ahead of me, and behind me I couldn't be sure of what I left. In the entryway of the Honden, I kept my katana. In one swift motion I drew it, arcing it over my head as I turned to face the forest, and the blade clashed against an unnatural force. As my eyes came into focus, split between the blade, far at the tip of another I could see he stared back at me with as much intensity. For the first time as I held a weapon, I felt fear.
Strength against me, my shaking arms gave way to a push, my blade arcing away from me. My mind screamed to place it upright, my muscles obeying swiftly, without hesitation. My body remembered from so long ago, in a place tucked away with the rest of my nightmares, what it was like to fight. I could feel every muscle in my body come alive, the blood flowing freely. Every step into the earth I took, my feet tingled with excitement. All of me was ready, but my mind was reeling, looking for answers.
In that moment my mind took over, I froze in time. My back hit the ground hard, and before my eyes silver specks danced for a moment. My arms were wet with the melting snow, my tangled hair obscured my vision. Over me, my challenger stood on both sides of my legs, crouching down. I felt his knees fall heavily into the earth on both sides of my hips, and the palms of his hands braced him above me. Softly, my hair was brushed from my face, and I closed my eyes tightly. With as much of my body remembering its lust for battle, it remembered just as well the torture that followed.
A breath in my face, rolling over my skin, and the press of soft lips against mine. "Seishin." A voice that was familiar, but one that I hadn't heard in a long time. "Seishin, open your eyes."
As I obeyed, I was met looking back and forth between a pair that greeted me. A face that smiled. My hand snaked up in an effort to place over my mouth, but his hand snagged it and lifted my wrist to his lips. "Tadaima." A quiet voice, meant only for me. I'm home.
"Sugai!" My fingers curled in the collar of his kimono, and I pulled, my arms strong around his neck. His weight sunk into my body, and I held so tightly I thought we might melt together. I welcomed it. Tears poured from my eyes, streaming down my temples and into the earth. I feared I could cry so much I would drown us. My heart pounded, as if it beat for the first time after years of stillness. The emptiness, the longing, the desperation, the rage, all washed over me with my tears and the earth took them from me. A blade could have pierced my heart, my lungs could have turned to stone, and I would have accepted death with grace in that moment.
He removed himself from me, pulling me to stand though my legs trembled with uneasiness. "Look at you. Bare feet in the grass, laying in the mud. Is a Geisha still in there somewhere?" He reached to wipe the tears stains from my cheeks, his fingers calloused but gentle. "Is there a bath house in the mountains?"
"I know a hot spring not far."
There was a clearing in the trees opening to the base of a waterfall and a long winding stream. The stone carved by the water created pockets that the geysers filled with hot water from the earth's core, the steam billowing from the surface to mark them. The air was humid amongst the heat and water, almost too thick to breathe, but it cleansed me well. It burnt away the remnants of demons. We sat together in a stone hollow, submerged to our shoulders. My hair floated around me like a black halo, marking my ascent to Heaven.
"Why did you leave?" My eyes were heavy, my lashes weighed by the water droplets collecting on them. "You vanished from my life without a trace."
"I didn't intend to." The steam rising from the surface of the water enveloped him, and the world outside of the stone hollow seemed to disappear, washed in white and grey. Nothing else existed. I could see him so clearly, there was nothing to hide behind, no shadows to crouch in. He was not afraid to be looked upon, he lounged, allowing my eyes to roam him in curiosity. "You were so unholy that I was punished for you."
I sat back against the stone, stretching my limbs, letting my head tilt back with the weight of my hair. "I was punished enough for us both. I burnt that side of Edo to the ground." I was pleased recalling my work. "The price they paid for ever thinking they could lay a hand on me when I was watched by the Gods."
"You were watched. But you were also shunned. You are so full of sin and you dare wear that white kimono of the shrine keeper? How did it not set ablaze just by touching your skin?"
"I wish such magic existed in this world."
A long sigh of breath, his body relaxing heavily into the stone. Defeat, I recognized. Even a fox spirit could not argue the pride I took in every sin I carried. "I'm glad you found Mori. I think you wouldn't have made it through the winter up here without her. If anyone were to lay beside you in my absence, I'm glad it was her."
The image of her came to my mind's eye, the way I found her in the shrine, and the way I left her. I had forced her to absorb my sins, and she took them all without question. I could see the black stain creeping up the hem of her kimono. "Why are you here now?"
Caution. "For you."
His voice echoed in my head as we walked the streets of the new Edo, shoulder to shoulder with strangers. The same scents rolled down the alleys, the same cries from the vendors, the same deafening chatter surrounding me. I was content. Wrapped in fur, Sugai at my side, the rest of the village faded from my sight. The cobblestone uneven at my feet made my geta rattle with each step I took, and I felt again as if I was a new Maiko with bells in her heels. The beauty of the street finally came into view.
"Can they see you?"
A smile. Embarrassment. "They can see me." Smooth. Gentle.
I pointed across his body, singling out the small old man selling tea. I had visited him often through the harsh winter, and he appeared more frail and grey each time. I feared death walked beside him. "Okyaku-sama." He bowed deeply to me as he did each time I visited, and I felt less deserving of his respect each time. As he straightened, he turned to Sugai slowly and folded once again. Each movement was laborious, slow.
"This is a dear friend. He came to see me after a long time."
The man retrieved a small fabric bag and with two hands, held it out to Sugai. "I know you well."
"Have I been so downgraded from lover to friend?"
We walked further into the street together than I ever had alone. I slowed my pace as my eyes came to rest upon a vendor housing black lacquered boxes, red lacquered combs, an array of fans, and my heart skipped in recognition. Inside each of the boxes my eyes feasted upon, was the power of transformation. For once, the demons in me were hushed. Satisfied. Softly in my ear, a voice. "If I gift you the tools you need here, will you dance for me?" My fingers skimmed the smooth shine on the lid of a box, toyed with the softness of the hair of a brush. These things that I had buried in my past made my body jump, lightening coursing through me. I felt myself a child again, felt renewed at the opportunity to step onto a stage, to command attention, to be loved.
I remembered with expert skill channeled through me to apply charcoal to my eyebrows to blacken them further. I remembered matching arches over my lips in deep red, tapping it lightly into the area under my eyes with my ring finger. In the mirror I looked down my nose, tilting my head back until my eyes were small slits, and dipped the brush tip into the pot of liquid black. Warm against my eyelid, one confident motion. The snap of a fan open against the red backdrop of my red kimono. The fire burned as my spotlight, and my audience of one was drawn in effortlessly.
His body against mine, his hands searched. The darkness of the night held us, covered us, and the warmth of the fire kept the demons at bay. At least for that night.