A curved rooftop. Two opposed lanterns. Greenry everywhere leading up to it. Stepping through was like pushing past a light barrier and everything suddenly smelled of aged cedar, incense, and earth. Yaegaki Shrine, this was it. A thick rope draped across the front called shimenawa, holy Shinto straw drope. It did not flap, it remained there as a staple. It was what divided the divine world from the outside world. From ordinary prayers to shrine prays. To be under it meant to be under the protection and wisdom of the divine.
In view even at the entrance, Yoemon could be seen kneeling at the main sanctuary, his hands pressed together in a posture of prayer. His katana, a striking weapon with a blue-edged blade, lay by his side. Yoemon was young and his expression was one of quiet defeat, his head bowed low, lost in thought.
Footsteps approached from behind him. Yoemon didn't turn.
Kazi was here.
"So you're Yoemon," Kazi said.
