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What does it mean to say goodbye?
Miko stares at the fire, a smile she doesn’t feel on her lips, letting the condolences of all of the attendees wash over her.
They’re just words. These other foxes speak of the Lady Saiguu as if they knew her, as if they know how much she’d touched Miko’s life, as if they knew how she’d been able to impress on a vicious little fox like Miko that even she had a heart.
As if they knew what it was like for the Lady Saiguu to vanish without a real goodbye.
As if they knew this ache, this hollowness, this desire to have had even one more conversation with the woman who had meant so much to her. As if they knew how much Miko wishes the Lady Saiguu had at least said ‘goodbye,’ not ‘see you later.’
They don’t. They can’t.
The Lady Saiguu’s pyre will be empty. There’s no body to burn, and Miko refused to allow the creation of an effigy. Refused to allow any of the Lady Saiguu’s possessions to take her place, as if an object could ever hope to replace the woman.
It’s just a fire.
Why can’t Miko stop staring at it?
Ei is a silent presence at her side, the only one allowed to join the Lady Saiguu’s heir at the head of the table for the mourning feast, but even her lover’s presence is for once no comfort.
All she feels is empty.
Maybe Ei can understand, at least a little — Makoto’s death is breaking her as much as the Lady Saiguu’s is breaking Miko, but right now Miko can’t find the words to reach out. Doesn’t know how to comfort Ei, doesn’t know how to confide in Ei.
Doesn’t know if she can confide in someone who’s barely a half-step from the edge, standing over a darkness Miko’s eyes can’t penetrate.
So Miko sits and she smiles, staring into this fire that’s as empty as her heart. The wild urge to cast herself into it seizes her, and she can’t help a soft chuckle — an object couldn’t possibly take the Lady Saiguu’s place, but what about her heir?
The laughter, quiet though it was, has drawn stares — and they’re not friendly ones, either.
But Miko just smiles around at the foxes glaring at her, letting their anger roll over her.
What does their petty rage mean to her? It’s not like she knows most of them, and for the rest, well… she’s never really gotten along with the elders anyway. They’ve despised her practically since her birth, after all.
The last of the guests arrives, the last of the kitsune of Inazuma, and Miko rises to her feet, smile still on her lips.
“Welcome, everyone,” she says, voice full of cheer that feels alien to her own ears. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate the life of the greatest of us, our beloved Lady Saiguu, who fell in a battle to ensure that Inazuma will continue on into its promised Eternity. Anyone who would like to speak, to tell a story about the Lady Saiguu, will be given time to stand. As the new Guuji of the Grand Narukami Shrine, her successor, I’ll begin: this is a story from many years ago, when the Lady Saiguu met a wicked little fox…”
“You’re Yae Miko, then?” the Lady Saiguu asks, puffing thoughtfully on her pipe.
“That’s right,” Miko agrees, foregoing the expected bow in favor of a brief incline of her head. “And you must be the Lady Saiguu. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
“I suppose you would have,” the Lady Saiguu agrees. “Do they still tell the story of how I defeated an army of resentful oni?”
“Three oni are an army now?” Miko returns, raising an eyebrow. “Even I could do that much, Lady Saiguu, and I have yet to begin my training under you. If that’s the sort of thing the old-timers are trying to impress the youth with, I wonder if I might have made a mistake in deciding to come here…”
The Lady Saiguu throws her head back in laughter.
“Do you know, you’re the first kit to call me on that?” the Lady Saiguu wheezes, gesturing wildly with her pipe. “They always assume the story had been toned down for their sensitive little baby ears. You have some bite, don’t you, little Yae?”
“Urakusai would never ‘tone down’ a story,” Miko scoffs. “If anything, the old bastard puffs them up too much.”
“Too true!” the Lady Saiguu agrees, chortling. “Too true. The windbag loves to hear himself talk, but that’s what makes him such a wonderful storyteller.”
Miko hums doubtfully. She’s enjoyed Urakusai’s stories, yes, but at least half the fun always came from sitting on his shoulder pestering him about every little suspicious detail. To his credit, the old fox usually took it in stride, but she’d developed something of a reputation as a killjoy over how she poked so many holes in his wilder tales.
It’s a reputation Miko wears with pride.
“I’ve heard about your antics,” the Lady Saiguu says, eyes twinkling. “Urakusai’s letters have been a real treat these last fifty years, full of the fondest complaining I’ve ever seen from him about ‘that evil little Yae kit.’ He’d been begging me to take you early, even though you hadn’t yet gained your human form. I refused, of course — the rules are the rules for a reason, and he knows it.”
Miko can’t help the pleased smirk tugging at her lips. She knew she’d gotten to him, no matter how much he tried to play it off, and here’s her proof.
“I’m sure he’ll miss you terribly now,” the Lady Saiguu continues blithely. “I expect his next letter will be begging for your return. Unfortunately for him, it’s my turn to teach you — he should have made more use of his time with you, the dear fool.”
Miko cocks her head as the Lady Saiguu rises to her feet and gestures for Miko to follow her outside, but she obeys.
As much as she’s sure that many of the legends about the Lady Saiguu had been embellished by Urakusai’s brand of storytelling, the old fox is still the greatest of their kind alive. Miko had always found the legends fascinating, had always wanted to meet the fox behind them and learn her secrets. She’s not so stupid as to risk losing that chance just because she doesn’t like following other people’s commands.
“Might I inquire as to what we’re doing, Lady Saiguu?” Miko asks.
“Cut the formal talk,” the Lady Saiguu orders, not even bothering to look back. “We’re going to have your first lesson, little Yae.”
“As you say, Lady Saiguu,” Miko accepts, dipping her head even though she’s sure the older fox can’t see it, allowing the motion to further hide the twitch of her lips.
‘Cut the formal talk?’ The Lady Saiguu will be learning just how formal Miko can be.
“How much experience do you have with dancing, little Yae?” the Lady Saiguu asks, coming to a stop in the middle of an empty, grassy field.
“I apologize, Lady Saiguu, but I have no such experience,” Miko says, kneeling and offering her neck in penance.
The act feels unnatural — Miko has never been one to submit like this — but it’s worth it for the irritated twitch of the Lady Saiguu’s eyebrow.
“Get up, you little pest,” the Lady Saiguu grumbles. “It’s for the best that you don’t have any, really. Less to unlearn. Your first lesson will be on kagura.”
“Performing a sacred dance in the honor of our god?” Miko asks doubtfully.
In honor of Narukami Gongen? Fat chance. The god has done more to destroy youkai society than any number of disasters, and everyone knows it.
In honor of Lightning’s Shadow, the deity of the youkai? Miko’s never actually seen her, has no idea if she actually exists — and if she does, it’s hard for Miko to imagine that she could revere a youkai god who suborns herself to the god of humans.
“If you like,” the Lady Saiguu says, shrugging. “Personally, I just treat it as a chance to let out my feelings a little. Bit hard to feel much reverence for Narukami Gongen when you’ve seen her getting so drunk she starts throwing her clothes all over the room, and Lightning’s Shadow… Well. She’s a complicated one, but at the end of the day she’s really just one of us. She’s hard to read, but I’ve at least gathered that she’s not much of a fan of being worshiped.”
“May I take that as confirmation that Lightning’s Shadow is real?” Miko asks.
“Very real,” the Lady Saiguu confirms. “Sometimes I think she’s a little bit more real than reality, if not quite so real as fantasy.”
“…What does that mean?” Miko asks.
“You’ll understand someday,” the Lady Saiguu hums. “You’re a clever one, after all. But come come, follow my lead…”
Miko does her best, she really does, despite the fact that she can’t see any way that learning this pointless dance will help her grow into a mighty youkai.
But she’s terrible at it, and the Lady Saiguu won’t stop laughing at her clumsy motions.
“I haven’t even been wearing this shape for three months yet, you insufferable old hag,” Miko hisses at her cackling mentor, all pretenses of politeness and respect gone as her ears flatten against her head and her lips peel back to reveal her fangs. “What do you expect from me?”
The cycle of trial and failure is natural for youkai. It had taken Miko weeks just to learn to walk without falling on her face, and she still has trouble on difficult terrain.
None of that had bothered her. None of her endless past failures as she worked to become who she is today had bothered her.
But this? Being asked to dance with this hideously useless human body is one thing, Miko could take her failures in stride as she always has and continue on if it weren’t for an extra factor.
That factor being the mockery the Lady Saiguu subjects her to for every little mistake. It’s nothing like the way that failure had been celebrated as the path towards progress back in the Hakushin lands, and is far too much like what she’s heard of human denigration of failure.
And she hates it.
To her surprise, her outburst doesn’t set off another round of laughter, and neither does it draw censure — instead, the Lady Saiguu beams widely.
“There it is,” the Lady Saiguu exclaims. “There’s your anger.”
“…What?” Miko asks blankly.
The Lady Saiguu collapses gracelessly to the ground and pats the grass next to her. Miko hesitantly settles down, unsure what’s going on.
“Urakusai told me,” the Lady Saiguu says, “that your only flaw as a student was that you didn’t let yourself feel deeply enough. That you always smiled and picked yourself back up, that you never let yourself be frustrated. He was afraid, and rightly so, that one day you would encounter a wall you couldn’t overcome and shatter yourself against it, refusing to let yourself seek help or find an outlet for your feelings.”
“…What a meddlesome old man,” Miko huffs.
“But he was right,” the Lady Saiguu says, puffing on her pipe. “Tell me, little Yae, have you ever had a close companion?”
“…No,” Miko admits. “I don’t need something like that.”
A close companion… trusting someone? Letting them in, where they can hurt her?
No. Miko doesn’t need anything of the sort. Shallow relationships from which she can derive entertainment are more than enough. It’s not like she tends to feel much other than boredom or amusement anyway. Even by kitsune standards she’s abnormally detached and prone to cruelty for her amusement — quite frankly, any attempt at a close relationship is doomed to failure.
Miko is self-aware enough to admit to her flaws, even if she also has no interest in trying to get rid of them. She likes how she is.
She just also knows she’s a horrid little monster that doesn’t deserve and couldn’t maintain a real friendship, that’s all. With the exception of Urakusai, the elders had been very clear about that in all of their scolding.
“Everyone needs someone like that,” the Lady Saiguu disagrees, eyes slipping shut. “Even you, little Yae. Even me. Even her.”
“‘Her?’” Miko asks, but gets only a tired sigh and a shake of the head in reply.
“Just think about it,” the Lady Saiguu says softly. “That’s all I’m asking, little Yae.”
“I will,” Miko agrees.
She has no intention of doing so, of course, but if it will get the Lady Saiguu off her back about it she doesn’t mind telling the lie.
It’s three months later that the Lady Saiguu asks Miko to bring tea and wagashi out to the patio for a distinguished guest. The emphasis on ensuring there were enough wagashi is a little strange, but Miko supposes this guest must have a sweet tooth.
When she lays eyes on the Lady Saiguu’s guest, it’s only her iron self-control that allows Miko to avoid dropping the platter she’s carrying.
The fox is beautiful. Long, purple hair held back in a braid; a simple (and clearly battle-oriented) but nonetheless attractive purple kimono wrapped around a curvaceous body; arms and legs with muscles visible even under their coverings; nine long, flowing tails; fluffy ears that look so soft that Miko craves to reach out and touch them; impossibly gorgeous purple eyes that stare into her own with confusion, a beauty spot under the right only adding to her ethereal appearance—
Miko rewinds and realizes that she and the Lady Saiguu’s guest are staring at each other, then hurries to move forward and set the platter on the table and dash off with a muttered apology, doing her best to ignore the Lady Saiguu’s laughter.
That wasn’t Narukami Gongen, she’s certain of that much, despite the vague similarities the unknown fox had to the portraits she’s seen.
Which means… it must be Lightning’s Shadow. The greatest of all youkai.
And Miko just made an absolutely horrible first impression on her, gaping like some lovestruck child.
…It may not be far from the truth, she admits to herself as she buries her face in her pillow.
She hadn’t thought herself capable of attraction, least of all to those wearing a human shape. She’s never experienced it before, and she’s not sure how to handle it now that she has. It’s strange and overpowering, and the worst part is that despite what a fool she just made of herself… she wants to see Lightning’s Shadow again.
She groans in despair, doing her best to recenter herself, then forces herself out of bed and out the door back into the shrine proper. She still has duties to attend to, and she doubts the Lady Saiguu would appreciate her slacking off just because she’s suddenly been forced to confront the fact that she’s hopelessly gay.
This proves a mistake, as she finds herself immediately throwing herself behind a pillar to avoid being seen. She peeks out around the corner, watching as Lightning’s Shadow practices naginata forms.
The kitsune deity has removed her kimono in favor of hakama and a chest wrap, leaving most of her stomach bare. It’s a sight that reinforces once more Miko’s new understanding of herself, because the urge to touch those beautiful abs is almost overwhelming.
Miko leaps into the air when she feels a puff of breath on her ear, her scream prevented only by the hand that clamps down firmly over her mouth.
“She’s quite the sight, isn’t she?” the Lady Saiguu whispers. “If I didn’t have my Chiyo and didn’t know just how closed-off she is, even I’d be tempted.”
“It’s not like that,” Miko denies quietly, though the heat she feels in her cheeks tells her that her stupid human body has betrayed her on this one. “It’s just… you told me that Lightning’s Shadow was real, but this is my first time seeing her.”
“Yes, yes,” the Lady Saiguu agrees, nodding. “And it’s love at first sight. How adorable…”
Miko bites the Lady Saiguu’s hand, drawing a pained hiss from her mentor.
“Maybe you’d get along with her,” the Lady Saiguu says, though the humor in her voice makes her doubt clear. “You’re certainly just as bad at talking about your feelings as she is.”
Miko scowls, then straightens her clothing, tears herself from the Lady Saiguu’s grasp, and strides out into the field towards Lightning’s Shadow.
If the Lady Saiguu is going to try to tease her, she’ll just prove there’s nothing to tease her about. That’s all.
“Your Excellency,” Miko greets, bowing her head as she approaches. “I am Yae Miko, and I wished to see if there was anything I could do for you while you’re a guest here at our shrine, given that the Lady Saiguu appears to have left you.”
“Thank you for your concern, Miss Yae,” Lightning’s Shadow says, face as void of expression as it has been since Miko first laid eyes on her. Only the tiny, barely visible spark in the depths of her eyes shows that she’s feeling something, but Miko can’t tell what it is. “I do not believe I require any assistance at this time, but if I do, I will send for you. For now, please return indoors and rest — the heat can be dangerous.”
Miko bows deeply and excuses herself, striding back to where the Lady Saiguu is still hiding behind the pillar with her head held high.
“You look like a tomato,” the Lady Saiguu informs her. “She probably thought you were on the verge of dying from heatstroke — the poor dear is too dense to realize you were actually on the verge of dying from being too gay.”
Miko’s lips peel back in a snarl and then she flees, wondering what’s wrong with her. She feels so out of control — in recent weeks the Lady Saiguu had ceased to be able to wiggle her way under Miko’s skin, but now it seems to be easier for her than ever.
She grows more confused and desperate as the months pass, unable to understand why this infatuation refuses to leave her. She tries flirting with some of the other shrine maidens, they’re cute enough — but even when they reciprocate she ends up pulling back before anything actually comes of it. Flustering them is entertaining, but the attraction she feels to Lightning’s Shadow just isn’t there. She’s not yet desperate enough to think that trying to fuck her problems away will solve anything, and the idea of engaging in such activities with any of these other girls makes her skin crawl unpleasantly anyway.
(—but when she closes her eyes, the hands of Lightning’s Shadow are gently caressing her body, and she—)
She must be under a curse, she thinks, but no ritual of purification seems to cure her of her desperate longing.
She makes a fool of herself trying to get the attention of Lightning’s Shadow whenever the ancient fox visits the shrine, and she doesn’t even care. She knows how the other shrine maidens laugh about her behind her back, especially the other foxes, but she just ignores it.
It’s when winter falls, when she’s foraging through the snow for anything to snack on as she waits for Lightning’s Shadow to arrive at the shrine for yet another visit to the Lady Saiguu, that she finally feels strong hands wrap around her tiny, shivering form and raise her up to cradle her against a warm, soft chest.
“You’re Yae Miko, right?” Lightning’s Shadow asks quietly. “Why are you out here? It’s dangerous.”
Miko just shivers and snuggles closer against the older fox.
She can’t say she was hoping to impress Lightning’s Shadow, who she knew would be visiting the shrine today, with her resilience against the cold and commitment to foraging for her food like kitsune have for millenia. She would sound unbelievably pathetic.
Lightning’s Shadow just hums softly as she continues the walk towards the shrine, gently petting Miko’s head.
“You’re very soft,” Lightning’s Shadow murmurs, the words sounding half-accidental.
The panicked look in the fox’s eyes when Miko cranes her head to see suggests that she very much had not meant to say that.
“…I can be your hand-warmer if you’d like,” Miko offers softly. “I wouldn’t mind. It would be a high honor.”
“…I think I might like that,” Lightning’s Shadow agrees, voice just as quiet. “Thank you.”
Miko falls silent, gazing out at her audience, looking for understanding.
Looking for someone who has come to see the true meaning of her kagura, for someone who understands even without the tale of how the Lady Saiguu had later tricked her into bungling her confession to Ei for weeks the way that her mentor had, from the very start, been tricking Miko into exposing more and more of her closed-off heart, until it had eventually been able to snuggle close with that of the god at her side.
Looking for someone who understands just how much losing the Lady Saiguu in this way, with no closure, without even so much as a goodbye, has left her questioning whether any of the things she had been taught were true.
But she finds only blank incomprehension, and so she allows herself to collapse back into her seat, smile still in place, as an elder rises to begin his own story of a meeting with the Lady Saiguu.
She feels Ei reach out and squeeze her hand, and she squeezes back.
At least they have each other, Miko thinks. When the feast comes to an end, when the other kitsune resolve to turn themselves to stone in atonement to await the Lady Saiguu’s reincarnation, when their already-present anger with her boils over into rage and shouting at her refusal to join them—
It’s Ei who steps up in her defense, who protects her, as she remains silent and smiling.
It’s Ei who holds her that night, who makes her feel a little less alone.
And less than five years later, it’s Ei who disappears without even so much as a goodbye, leaving in her place an emotionless doll, an object that could never hope to replace the woman Miko loves.
And so, for five long centuries, Yae Miko smiles alone.