The firelight was dying.
The shrine the villagers had worshipped for three months was now just a pile of smoldering timber and crumbling walls.
The air was thick with the stench of burning and blood.
The giant toad's corpse still sizzled in the embers.
Most of the villagers had dispersed.
A few still knelt on the ground, unwilling to rise, mumbling prayers of thanks to the gods. It was hard to say if they meant the god that had just been killed, or the two who had killed it.
Shinji ignored them.
He brushed the ash from his clothes and turned back the way they'd come.
Kikyō walked beside him, light on her feet, her white robes and red hakama swaying gently in the night breeze.
The golden-haired demon who called himself Nurarihyon hadn't followed.
He'd just said, "Interesting," and wandered off, pipe in mouth, disappearing into the darkness.
Slippery demons, coming and going without a trace was their specialty.
Shinji wasn't surprised. That guy seemed like the type who loved a good spectacle. Watch the show, then vanish. Fitting.
They retraced their steps and returned to the cramped hut.
Pushed open the door.
The oil lamp was still burning, casting a dim, yellow light.
The room was exactly as they'd left it.
Shinji went to the wall and sat down.
Kikyō settled onto the tatami, resting her bow beside her.
Then, their eyes met.
Silence. The room was so quiet, the only sound was the faint crackle of the lamp's wick.
The silence stretched on.
"Why?" Kikyō finally spoke.
Her voice was soft, but in the stillness, it was perfectly clear.
Shinji looked at her. "Why what?"
"Why go this far?" Kikyō's voice remained calm, carrying her usual cool detachment. "Killing that demon, I understand. It pretended to be a god, devoured human lives. It deserved to die."
"But what you said just now…" She paused. "Putting this village under your protection, going after that lord… that's not just a casual favor."
Shinji didn't answer immediately.
He thought for a moment, then asked, "What do you think my reason is?"
"I don't know." Kikyō looked at him, her dark eyes seeming especially deep in the lamplight. "That's why I'm asking."
Shinji still didn't respond right away. He shifted his gaze from Kikyō to the old wooden window.
Outside, the night sky was shifting from black to deep blue.
Then he smiled.
The smile looked a little out of place in the dim light. His pale face and red eyes didn't exactly scream 'good guy.'
But somehow, it felt honest.
"Half of it is for the village," he said. "The other half..."
"Is for us."
Kikyō frowned slightly.
"Us?" She repeated the word, puzzled.
"Hiraikotsu." Shinji spoke the name.
Kikyō's eyes narrowed.
She was sharp. She didn't need much explanation to understand what he was getting at.
"You mean… Hiraikotsu is with that lord?"
"Eighty percent chance, at least." Shinji straightened up, ready to explain.
He'd already worked through this logic in his head. Just hadn't had a chance to lay it out yet.
"Think about it."
He raised one finger.
"You said Hiraikotsu, that old man would definitely have carried it on him."
"But we didn't find it near his body. We followed his trail all the way here. Nothing."
"A weapon that important, he wouldn't just toss it aside somewhere."
"So there's only one possibility."
Kikyō's eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. "You're saying… Hiraikotsu was taken?"
"Stolen or tricked away, either way. But probably not by a demon."
Shinji raised a finger.
"Think about it. We asked so many rocks and trees along the way."
"In their memories, there were traces of demons chasing him. Signs of fighting. But nothing mentioned Hiraikotsu."
"A weapon that big, if a demon had snatched it in the wilderness, someone would have seen it."
Kikyō's frown deepened.
She was starting to follow his logic.
"So you're saying… Hiraikotsu wasn't taken by a demon. It was taken by humans?"
"Exactly." Shinji nodded.
"The elder's journey from the demon slayer village to your place wasn't short. He must have passed through some human territories."
"Demons chased him. He fought while he ran. He was exhausted."
"If, during that journey, he passed through a town or a checkpoint…"
He looked out the window, toward the direction of the lord's castle town.
"And if there happened to be a bunch of greedy soldiers there… they see a half-dead old man carrying a huge, obviously valuable weapon…"
"What do you think they'd do?"
"And what do you think that elder would have done?"
Kikyō fell silent, processing this.
The logic was sound.
Too sound.
"That lord's territory is exactly on the most likely route he would have taken." Shinji continued. "Hiraikotsu is forged from demon bones. It doesn't look like ordinary junk."
"If soldiers found it or took it on the road, they'd definitely present it to their master."
Kikyō finally understood.
"So when you said you'd protect this village and deal with that lord…"
"It wasn't just for these villagers. It was also to retrieve Hiraikotsu."
"Killing two, even three birds with one stone."
Shinji admitted it readily.
"Killing that toad was the first thing."
"Dealing with that lord who oppresses the people is the second."
"And getting Hiraikotsu back is the third."
"Three things. One trip."
He made it sound so simple.
Kikyō looked at him quietly.
The lamplight flickered beside her, illuminating her cool, beautiful face.
"You have a lot of nerve," she said.
It sounded like a statement of fact. Or maybe a kind of remark.
"I didn't use to." Shinji answered honestly.
He really hadn't been this bold before, bold enough to directly target a human settlement. Humans had their strong individuals, sure, but even the ordinary ones, when gathered in hundreds or thousands, were forces most demons wouldn't dare provoke.
"Then why do you dare now?"
The question was blunt.
Shinji just looked at her steadily.
The lamplight, dim and yellow, fell upon Kikyō's exquisite face, making her dark eyes shine brightly.
The collar of her white robes was slightly open, revealing a glimpse of pale neck.
Her black hair lay scattered over her shoulders, a few strands clinging to the side of her neck, trembling faintly with each breath.
He suddenly smiled.
"Because you're here," he said, as if stating the simplest fact. "The strongest shrine maiden of the Sengoku era. You can kill powerful high-tier demons with a single arrow."
"That Kamaitachi last night? You blasted it to pieces."
"That toad tonight? If your arrow hadn't pinned its leg, my slash might not have landed."
"With you backing me up, what do I have to be afraid of?"
His expression was perfectly matter-of-fact.
"Even if that lord has hundreds of men under him, as long as you're here, I'll charge right in."
"Worst case, you shoot from behind, I slash up front."
"We make a good team. Just like last night."
Kikyō's expression froze.
Her lips parted. She wanted to say something.
But looking at his completely unapologetic face, she suddenly didn't know how to respond.
This boy… this demon…
How could he say something like that so… so…
Was he complimenting her?
Or treating her like some kind of all-purpose tool?
Several seconds of silence passed.
Finally, Kikyō managed one word.
"Nonsense."
[Shikon Jewel · Pure Spirit: Affection +1]
[Current Affection: 47 (Trust)]
[It sends you a message: 'She didn't deny it. She's just shy.']
Shinji looked at the prompt on his panel, the curve of his smile deepening.
As expected.
This Pure Spirit guy really had good judgment.
"How is it nonsense?" he pressed.
"I'm not the strongest shrine maiden." Kikyō lowered her head, fiddling with her bowstring, avoiding his gaze.
"Who says?"
"I do." Her voice was soft. "This world is vast. There are many powerful people."
"The great onmyōji in Kyoto, exorcists all over the land… plenty are stronger than me."
"I just… do what I need to do."
Shinji watched her.
The candlelight flickered beside her, casting shifting shadows over her white-robed figure.
Her lowered eyelashes painted faint shadows on her cheeks.
Her fingers still traced the bowstring, mechanically, like her mind was elsewhere.
Beautiful.
And stubborn.
"Forget who's strongest," Shinji said. "In my eyes, you're the strongest."
"That's enough."
Kikyō looked up.
Her dark eyes held an unreadable emotion.
Not anger. Not shyness.
More like… resignation?
"You and your mouth," she said.
"What about it?"
"You're good with words."
Was that a compliment?
Shinji thought it probably was.
Even if it didn't quite sound like one.