Anyway, I'm having a break until Monday January 8. If you're looking for more Tales of the Jade Road goodness, please consider checking out my other stories. No, there is no smut in them, and yes, only one of them is GL (and they still haven't got together yet, dammit), but if you'd like more world-building, want to know what happened to Miss Fen and Chun Zeyi, Jyun Sou Jyut and the Necromancer, or want some of the history of Hanasan/Mount Faa/Mount Hua, you'll get plenty of that.
The trio wandered northwards, their steps punctuated by yawns. Ayame was practically asleep on her feet, and Eitsu might as well have been sleepwalking.
“Why do you look the same as usual?” Eitsu grumbled, squinting at Tsubaki.
“Dead inside?”
“Gorgeous as always, my dear.”
“It's because I don't usually sleep anyway.”
At the Hour of the Ox, when the world was at its most silent, with only the sound of rain, or insects, or wind, or the faint, faint whisper of falling snow, Eitsu would wake in cat form or human form, and find Tsubaki at the window, staring into the night. How many lives had it been? This life, her seventh life, her sixth...
She stumbled sleepily against Tsubaki, nuzzling her hair. “If you can't sleep in the future, just wake me up, okay? I'll help you get back to sleep.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“Could be.”
Ayame tripped on a small rock and stumbled.
“There's a ryokan near here,” Tsubaki sighed. “I've performed there before too, so they might give us a room in exchange for a performance.”
Eitsu and Ayame complained incoherently about the unfairness of making Tsubaki work, but the dancer ignored them, pulling them both along until they found the inn.
The next thing Eitsu knew, she was waking up tangled in a summer futon. A host of glass fuurin sang from the eaves.
“Hungry?” Tsubaki was elegantly seated by a low table, her chopsticks lifting cold noodles. Eitsu tiptoed over the still-sleeping Ayame to join the dancer at the table, receiving her own noodles and a cup of cold barley tea, drops of condensation beading on the outside.
“How long...?”
“Most of the day.”
A muddled nod greeted this news. Eitsu slowly sucked up noodles, occasionally forgetting what she was doing. She spent a few moments staring into her bowl as if divining the future from its contents. “Hey Tsu-bo, do you remember where you were born?”
“No. Do you?”
“Nope.” She traced her finger from one drop of condensation to another on the surface of the cup, guiding the drops to join and swell, racing to the table. “But I think it was the north.”
“Is that why you wore that odd robe last night?”
“Maybe. I maybe because I wore the robe, I'm now thinking I came from the north.”
“Perhaps you'll remember some more things as we travel.”
Eitsu stretched and yawned. “It's not the same as recalling memories from my old skins. Those lives were short. My first one was loooong... I saw flashes of things, from before I met you. Things I didn't understand. I have no context for them, you know?”
“Such as?”
“Place... People... There was one... Someone was thanking me. I don't know who or why.”
“Isn't that a common thing, for people to thank a deity?”
“It wasn't like that.” Scratching her neck, Eitsu made a face of frustration. “It seemed personal. Or different somehow. Ugh, it's driving me crazy, trying to work it out.”
“That would be ironic.”
“Hey, I think it would make perfect sense if I was insane. Takes one to know one.”
A sleepy murmur announced that Ayame was stirring. She eventually dragged herself over to the table and ate some noodles without opening her eyes.
“...'w're pay...”
“I didn't understand that, Ayame-chan.”
“I think she was asking how we were going to pay for this.”
“I've already done a performance, there's no need.” She almost choked on her tea when Eitsu grabbed her and practically threw her at a futon.
“Sleep!”
“I don't know if I can sleep like this.”
“Just pretend that you're dead for a few hours.”
“... that's achievable.”
The cicadas droned in the heat. A welcome little breeze blew through the open doors, lifting their hair from their damp foreheads. As Tsubaki's breaths evened out, Ayame turned to Eitsu.
“Eitsu-sama, is Tsubaki-dono really okay? I can't tell if she's joking when she talks about death like that.”
“It's a coping mechanism.” Much to the girl's annoyance, Eitsu patted Ayame's hair, messing it up. “Joking like that's probably what's kept her going all this time.”
Ayame grasped Eitsu's hands. “Eitsu-sama... You'll stop her if she does something, right?”
“Of course.” Eitsu poked Ayame's cheek. “Nothing to worry about. Everything's been going fine, Aya-chan. We're back home, that stinky fox hasn't shown his face, we've got free... -ish food... Don't worry.”
The girl nodded with trusting cheerfulness and continued eating, unaware of Eitsu's narrow golden eyes drifting surreptitiously over to the sleeping Tsubaki. A bead of sweat ran down the side of the kaibyou's face.
In spite of the party's misgivings, the trip north continued to be uneventful. Tsubaki would perform, sometimes with Eitsu acting the role of acrobatic comic relief, and as Ayame proved to be a competent koto player, the three of them would occasionally all take to the stage to earn their meals and lodgings for the day. They avoided the largest towns where Tsubaki might be mobbed by fans, taking the less popular routes. Hugging the coast of Yamato, they walked and hitch-hiked onwards, and after a little over a week, they rode into the seaside town of Kinhama.
Ayame hopped off the cart they had hitched a ride on, patting the donkeys that pulled it and thanking the driver. “Thank you, Obasan. Um... Tsubaki-dono? Eitsu-sama?”
The two women still sat in the cart, their eyes taking in the view.
Kinhama was a typical fishing town, winding streets lined with old timber houses beaten grey by the ocean. The sand of the beaches of Kinhama was golden, giving the town its name.
Eitsu was the first to stir. “This brings back memories, right, Hijiki?”
Tsubaki's expression bent into a painful smile. “It's still as hot and salty as ever, Daidai.”
Ayame looked from one to the other of her guardians, and said nothing. Adults are crazy.
They all thanked the woman who had given them a lift, then immediately turned their backs on Kinhama. It seemed to Ayame that the other two couldn't leave the place fast enough.
“We've been here before,” was the only explanation Eitsu gave. “Where was the town where we first met?” she added to Tsubaki.
“Another week's walk from here, at least.”
“North?”
“North.”
“Where was that, Tsubaki-dono?”
“Soraki.”
“Isn't that where the troupe is, right now?”
“That's right, although I'm not sure how much longer they'll be there.”
“Leave it to me!” Ayame said proudly. “I'll find out!” With that, she spun around and ran back down into Kinhama.
“Wow, kids are so energetic!” Eitsu laughed, collapsing onto a large rock by the side of the road. She patted her knee. “Come and sit?”
They watched a pondful of broadleaf cattails wave in the ocean breeze, ripples spreading across the water. Behind them, a grove of fragrant Sugi, cedar trees, loomed tall. Tiny squirrels with huge dark eyes and round bodies peered at them, fleeing in long, graceful glides when Eitsu turned suddenly to look at them. Other small shapes moved in the undergrowth, visible only from the corner of one's eye, disappearing when Tsubaki tried to look directly at them.
Ayame came racing back, and the moving things in the Sugi grove scattered.
“So, Old Lady Otsuyo heard that the troupe have been less popular since Tsubaki-dono disappeared, and Uncle Fuyurei said that he'd heard that meant they would stay at the Yamato-Chup-tuk border for a little while longer, since the natives of Chup-tuk have never seen Yamato-style dances before, and Sister Okiku thought the manager of the troupe would try to get as much as he could out of the situation, so-”
“Who the heck are all these people?” Eitsu raised an eyebrow.
“So...?” Tsubaki prompted.
“They're likely to be there for few more weeks.”
“Plenty of time then!” Eitsu stretched, then snuggled up to Tsubaki, still on her lap. “We can take our time.”
“Why are you being so casual?” Tsubaki tapped Eitsu's nose hard, making her shake her head and wrinkle her nose.
“Why are you so mean...? This disrespect to a divine being!”
Tsubaki tweaked Eitsu's nose.
“Stop! Stop!” Eitsu stood up abruptly, sweeping Tsubaki into her arms. “Let's set a good example for the child.”
“Yes,” Tsubaki said drily. “You, the irresponsible youkai, and I, the suicida-”
Eitsu blocked the words with a quick peck. “And aren't we doing well despite that? Two imperfect beings, making our way through the world. Oh no, Aya-chan thinks we're weird again, look at her face.”
“She's only thinking that about you, but she's too polite to be rude to a divine being.”
“Maybe you should learn from her.”
“Um... Tsubaki-dono, Eitsu-sama... Shouldn't we be going now?”
“Aya-chan is the mother here, it seems.”
Pulling themselves together, Eitsu put Tsubaki down and the trio once more began their walk.
The path out of the village grew more and more familiar with each step, and Eitsu could remember running along the bare dirt after the stringy girl with the lank hair, growing healthier and prettier every day, in a summer where the butterflies were as numerous as cherry blossoms in spring. She slowed unconsciously, and now Tsubaki drew ahead, and once more Eitsu was following her on a summer day. There were no butterflies now, but that was okay; Tsubaki turned back questioningly, and Eitsu was back there in their innocent childhood, and simultaneously in the present with their worldly adulthood, and somewhere, she hoped, she was in the future with their ongoing happiness.
“Eitsu-sama?”
Eitsu grinned. “Pretty.”
“Hm.”
“That's the first good thing you've said today,” Ayame said solemnly.
“What? I thought I was pretty cool, going on about how anyone, even irresponsible youkai and depressed humans, can live as best they can!”
“That was silly.”
“Ah, what would a brat know?”
“I'm not a brat!”
“Only a brat would say that.”
“Who's the real brat?” Tsubaki asked, casting Eitsu a haughty look.
Eitsu stuck out her tongue, but sobered up suddenly. “Hey Tsu-bo, what happened to the butterflies?”
“What butterflies?” Ayame asked.
Tsubaki glanced at her companions sharply, but didn't reply.
“What butterflies, Eitsu-sama?”
“Ah... Well... The summer we spent here, there were a lot of butterflies. Hundreds of white butterflies, more than you would usually see.”
“Wouldn't the people in the village know better than Tsubaki-dono? Shall I go back and ask?”
“No, no. It's okay. It was just an idle thought... I have a lot of those, you know.”
“We're aware,” Tsubaki observed.
“Ouch.”
“Tsubaki-dono, please wear your veil. Your skin will burn.”
“It's fine.”
Eitsu unceremoniously flung the piece of cloth on Tsubaki's head.
“... Fine.”
“Eitsu-sama, you said Tsubaki-dono and you first met at Soraki. You must have travelled a lot too, then. What is Soraki like?”
“Hm... I only remember bits and pieces. Like this place, Kinhama. I'd forgotten most it until we arrived. I had a small shrine at Soraki. People used to bring me presents. I lay in the sun a lot, because it was cold otherwise. Lots of sleeping. Life was good.”
“So... You don't reall remember anything about the town?”
“Not really.”
“... Eitsu-sama, sometimes I forget that you're a kami.”
“Because of my appealing and amicable nature?”
“Because you have the power to go around doing great deeds, but instead you sleep a lot. Also Tsubaki-dono said you have loose morals.”
There was a barely concealed snort from the dancer, although she didn't turn around.
“Oh, did she? Do you know what that means, Aya-chan?”
“You're not a very good person?”
“Well, you see, your Tsubaki-dono has actually taken advantage of those loose morals of mine many times-”
She shot away down the path before Tsubaki's wrath could fall on her.
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