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Despite what she had been told by her parents, her brother, and her retainers, Ayaka understood deep down that she was an oddity. Her gift—or at least that was what they decided on calling it, despite the mystery behind its manifestation—had always caused her much anxiety.
When she performed her duties along the streets of Hanamizaka, it was not unusual to draw some attention and carry out her business with the most curious gazes bored directly into her back, like arrows in a fallen criminal's back. Although most people would politely decline to make their comments known, it was clear that they would always be about her, as harmless as they usually were. It would neither be the first nor the last time she would overhear hushed discussions about her.
One might expect that she may find peace in the Chinju Forest, where humans scarcely wandered about, but Ayaka always found it too quiet. Whenever she stepped foot upon the sacred woodland, amidst the trickling of running water and chirping of insects, the distant yapping and merrymaking would instantly cease, like someone had sucked their breath in horror. Ayaka knew that the forest was home to many tanuki, and she had wondered whether they had been terrified or disgusted by her as well.
Even though no one was bothering her for being different, she could not help but feel as though she was being rejected by the youkai, when they reacted to her presence in such a manner. The silence was deafening, like a disaster had befallen the land.
Well, she was considered a cursed child. That was probably close enough.
After all, she stood out like a freak of nature amongst humans and youkai. No one else had remotely the same problem as her.
Not even the tengu, who are at least capable of retracting their night-stained wings and passing off as humans.
Ayaka had her snow-white wings for as long as she could remember. They had never ceased to jut from her back awkwardly, like someone had pinned a pair of banners onto her body then left them hanging.
In the Yashiro Commission’s records, none of her ancestors were noted to be a tengu. Neither was there a single documentation on the birth of a winged human , until Ayaka’s birth.
Unfortunately, none of the tengu in Inazuma would like to have anything to do with her, despite their shared traits.
It may have been the first time a winged human had ever been born, but the forest tengu had viewed the phenomenon as an ominous sign and abhorred her since.
While most tengu in Inazuma City were generally more moderate and diplomatic than their forest counterparts, they would seek an opportunity to dismiss themselves as swiftly as they could take to the skies, the moment Ayaka turned away to look elsewhere,
Ayaka could hardly blame the tengu for their hesitance in being seen with her, but the matters of the heart was not something that could be resolved purely through understanding and empathy.
She craved acceptance.
Although the unusual lady of the Kamisato Clan was known for more than just her wings—the citizens of Inazuma City had witnessed her dedication and earnestness in serving her duty and meeting their needs, and did in fact admire her greatly—she found herself often staying within the Kamisato Estate, for the benefit of her mental health. While being in the presence of another would never cease to remind her of the misfortune embedded in her back, Ayaka had at least taken comfort in the fact that her family and retainers had neither spoken ill of her nor regarded her any differently from a normal woman.
Albeit, the nickname Shirasagi Himegimi —or “White Heron Princess”, coined by her closed ones—was one that she had not yet fully taken to, despite the doting intentions behind it. After all, she shared a love-hate relationship with her brilliantly white wings.
Which may have yet drawn undue attention yet again.
“Miss Kamisato, may I have a word with you, please?” A voice called out to her from behind, when she was just about to step through the entrance to her home and release the breath she had been holding the entire time.
When she turned around, she had not expected to see a tengu. Or rather: Kujou Sara, the General of the Tenryou Commission.
There was almost no reason for them to meet in private, so why had she made her visit here?
“General Kujou,” Ayaka greeted, being careful to keep her nervousness concealed, “I… Was not expecting your arrival. Would you like to come inside and have a cup of tea?”
The tengu bowed curtly. “Thank you for having me on such short notice.”
General Kujou scared her, if Ayaka must admit.
Well, she did sort of like her as a person too, but the fact that Kujou Sara was a tengu warrior always caused her to feel uneasy, like how the forest tengu always made her feel. Unlike their city-dwelling counterparts, they were more arrogant; more conservative; and less likely to mince their words when expressing their disapproval. Even though she knew that the general had been raised by the Kujou Clan from a tender age, Ayaka would sometimes still find herself generalising a tengu warrior with a forest tengu by mistake, due to the overlaps between them.
“I shall be blunt, Miss Kamisato, and I hope you don’t take offence at what I am about to say,” Sara stated the moment she made herself comfortable, sitting across Ayaka in a seiza position. Not once had she acknowledged the wings folded tightly behind the girl, but she permitted herself a fleeting glance before continuing, “but have you been taught how to maintain your wings?”
Her wings.
Ayaka froze—as though her life flashed before her very eyes—when the topic of the conversation suddenly focused on the unnatural, copycat appendages she wished not to acknowledge before a tengu. Her jaw fell open as though to scream, but all that escaped was a silent plea, begging to be spared from the distress she might face.
Sara immediately apologised when she noticed how frightened the girl was. “I shouldn’t have sprung the question onto you so suddenly, but I truly did not mean any offence.” She shifted slightly on her knees, as though pondering what to say, then asked, “Are your wings… A very sensitive topic for you?”
Ayaka was on the verge of tears, with her hands balled into fists on her skirt, but she tried her best and mustered a tentative nod.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never realised how uncomfortable this conversation might be for you.” Sara spoke with a gentler tone this time—something Ayaka had never expected from a tengu warrior. “However… I do believe it is necessary to broach the subject. After all, it is important to ensure that one’s wings are properly maintained and cared for. Their purpose is not merely to facilitate flight.”
It was a rather confusing statement, coming from a tengu warrior. Ayaka did not have the impression that they were the sort to care about the state of their wings beyond utility.
“They are… A source of pride, for the tengu… And I believe you should take pride in them as well, Miss Kamisato, even though you are a human rather than a tengu.” Sara tried her best to explain without sounding too presumptuous.
Pride?
“There are some benefits to taking better care of your wings. For instance, you can expect your feathers to become more durable and less susceptible to damage. By washing your wings with lavender melon extract, their whiteness would also be better preserved. Personally, I think it is rather crucial since…” The tengu finally paused for a moment, turning her gaze away as she—
(Did she just blush slightly?)
—cleared her throat, then continued, “W-Well, I found your wings… Really beautiful. I hope you wouldn’t mind me complimenting them, Miss Kamisato,” Sara stammered. She actually stammered.
Ayaka’s mind went blank. The sudden praise felt like a pleasant jolt to her skull, and she was not at all used to the way the tengu was speaking with her. She had expected to be told off for failing to take proper care of her wings.
“Thank you…” Ayaka’s voice was reduced to a whisper, like soft sand, but it did not go unmissed. “This is the first time… Uhm, I have been complimented by a tengu.”
Sara ruminated on her words momentarily, before her gold-glazed eyes lit up in realisation.
“Ah… I’m… Sorry, Miss Kamisato, I deeply apologise for the discomfort the tengu have caused.” Sara prostrated before Ayaka could stop her. “I can only assure you that their… ‘Beliefs’… were based entirely on unfounded superstition.”
In a rare moment of opposition, Ayaka finally helped Sara back up onto her knees. “Please don’t do this! What the other tengu have said about me wasn’t your fault, General Kujou. I… I’m rather used to it by now, it is inevitable that there would be all sorts of rumours about my… Wings. I-I’m fine, really.”
Only when Sara lifted her face did Ayaka realise how close their faces were.
“Are you sure, Miss Kamisato? Because you’re crying.” The tengu had a pained expression as she wiped away the first shedding of tears from the noblewoman’s cheek. “... And not once have you sought comfort within your feathers. Your wings have been so, so stiff the entire time I was here…” She pulled Ayaka closer into a hug then—without warning—allowed her jet-black wings to erupt and enclose around them. “... See? This is how a pair of wings can bring… Comfort.”
Ayaka could not stop herself from sobbing quietly; from the amount of love she was being given from a tengu.
“I… I do not like my wings very much, I must admit,” Ayaka began, to Sara’s surprise. “They had caused me anxiety because I would stand out very much; they had soured relations between the Kamisato Clan and the forest tengu; and… And… I really did not like being different from other people—other humans.” Her snow-white wings trembled and stretched slightly, as though straining against an invisible force to pull open, but they soon retracted weakly.
“They make me feel like I’m not human , general.” Ayaka weeped into the muscular arms that wrapped around her.
“I… Understand, Miss Kamisato. I was raised by humans despite my youkai nature. It was a struggle to identify myself as a tengu when I had lived among humans all my life. My only connection to my true culture had only been the Almighty Shogun, who taught me everything I know today about ‘my’ people.” Sara kept her story as brief as possible, because this was not about her. “We did not share the same experiences, but… As a fellow outlier, I think I can imagine how you’ve felt. It was really difficult, wasn’t it?”
Sara then raised a hand to Ayaka’s chin, then guided her gently so that their teary gazes might meet.
“Miss Kamisato… Ayaka, I think you should love yourself more, as I do for the wondrous young woman before me,” Sara confessed in a whisper that blossomed warmly between their cheeks, “because there’s nothing I didn’t love about you.”
“General… Thank you, thank you…” Perhaps for the first time in Ayaka’s life, she allowed herself to be loved by her wings, as they wrapped around herself and the tengu that taught her comfort only their wings could give.
For the first time, she felt accepted—and the potential beginnings of a budding romance.