The banquet dispersed.
The demons gradually scattered. The area frozen by the Yuki-onna was also "carried" away by the combined efforts of the other demons before Oikawa sobered up.
Oikawa herself was finally supported away by Ruri and Hari.
She had been drunk the entire time, her eyes unfocused, leaving a thick layer of frost on the stone slabs beneath her feet.
The two moth-demon commanders walked with extreme caution, terrified of being caught in her wake.
The great hall gradually quieted.
Shinji sat in the corridor a while longer before rising and returning to his and Kikyō's room.
At the same time, at Kurokawa Castle, in the side chamber of the tenshukaku, Yura's comb sat cross-legged upon the tatami.
Her crimson comb, her true body, was placed before her knees.
Half an hour had passed since the banquet dispersed, and she had been sitting like this the entire time.
Half an hour ago, Onikiri had completed her leap across three transformations in a single instant.
As a fellow tsukumogami, Yura had felt the change in that demonic energy with perfect clarity.
She also understood that the dark crimson-haired Demon Blade Maiden had gained a voice the moment she took form.
She had even attempted to touch.
Yura had been stuck at the Sixth Transformation for a very long time.
Phantasmal Form.
Phantasmal Sound.
Phantasmal Voice.
Phantasmal Body.
She could condense the outline of a young woman.
She could wear clothes. She could move.
The only thing she lacked was true flesh and blood.
Kikyō had said she couldn't do it.
And she truly couldn't…
Because a phantasmal body could not provide true warmth.
But now, Onikiri's appearance had dealt Yura a fierce blow.
The essence of a tsukumogami was an artifact tainted by negative emotions, mutated into a demon.
Yura's emotions at this moment had climbed to their absolute peak.
Displeasure.
Unwillingness.
An almost obsessive possessiveness toward Shinji.
These emotions intertwined with the vast osore converging from the thirteen provinces.
Osore was the weight of ghost stories.
Among the ghost stories of the Eastern Hyakki Yakō, Yura's comb ranked at the very forefront.
Immense demonic energy surged from her comb's true body, pouring into her phantasmal form.
From illusion into reality.
This was Yura's Seventh Transformation, the Transformation of Illusion and Reality.
As a tsukumogami who had existed for a century, she was, in truth, still very young among demons.
Not like Sesshōmaru, born of a noble daiyōkai bloodline.
An ordinary being required decades or centuries of accumulated time to become a demon.
To reach her level required two or three hundred years, a span nearly equivalent to the lifespan of a human empire.
Yura's comb was already considered extraordinarily gifted among demons.
Yet during her time at Shinji's side, infected by his pure demonic energy and nourished by osore, she had, in truth, long since been just one step short.
One final step, the infection of a single "emotion."
Demonic energy condensed within her phantasmal form.
After extreme compression, a qualitative transformation occurred.
Bones took shape within the void.
Blood vessels spread along the bones.
Blood began to flow.
And finally, skin.
The originally semi-transparent skin was covered by a layer of true texture.
Yura opened her eyes.
Her ink-black pupils now held a rich human warmth, not the pure darkness of before.
Within them, there was light.
She raised her hand and touched her own cheek.
Warm.
No longer an illusion.
"…Finally. I did it?"
She rose to her feet.
Her black hair wove itself into the garments of a female shinobi, clinging to her slender waist.
Her collar was open.
Full curves rose and fell.
Her pale skin carried a faint blush.
Below, the curve of her hips, shadowed and outlined.
Yura's comb had waited for this moment for a very, very long time.
"The things that Demon Blade Maiden can't do… let me accomplish them instead!"
She walked out.
Shinji's room was at the other end of the long corridor.
Ever since max Affection, Shinji only carried Yura's comb in her vessel form when facing powerful enemies in battle.
After the fighting subsided, Yura had free time to move about.
That was, the present.
This moment.
Yura pushed open the sliding door to Shinji's room.
Shinji sat by the window, wearing that gray hemp robe.
Hearing the movement, he turned his head.
His crimson demon eyes swept over Yura's body.
"That demonic energy just now, so it was you completing the Seventh Transformation."
He gave his conclusion.
At such close range, Shinji could not possibly have been unaware, he was simply not surprised.
During this period, how many of the hundred demons under his command had advanced?
Not just the Demon Blade Maiden Oboro and Yura's comb.
The Yuki-onna, the great kappa, and the kamaitachi had all stabilized at the Ninth Transformation.
Tanuki Jūsaburō had stabilized at the Sixth.
Beyond that, many officer-level demons had also made tremendous progress under the nourishment of osore.
The formal establishment of the Hyaku Monogatari groups had produced astonishing growth.
This was foreseeable…
But to this, Yura gave no response.
She simply walked over, her body swaying.
The full curves and hardened peaks swayed.
Then, she slowly settled.
Straddling his lap.
This time, she was not repelled by reiryoku.
Kikyō was not here.
Shinji lifted his eyes, meeting Yura's gaze.
"You felt it, right? I have warmth now."
Yura's voice was crisp and lilting.
She rested her head in the crook of Shinji's neck, her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Now.... I can do it."
This time, Shinji also did not push her away.
After all, as Yura's comb had said, she truly could now.
And he had always been candid.
After the Twelfth Transformation's Return to One, he possessed the body temperature and desires of a living person.
Moreover, Yura was a max-Affection demon, utterly loyal to him.
Some "promises", still had to be given.
And besides…
"Kikyō just went out."
She did it on purpose, didn't she?
Shinji thought.
Such a small commotion could never escape that miko, the perception of the lover he ranked first in his heart, no matter when or where.
And the moment he had returned, Kikyō had found an excuse to go out.
That could only mean one thing.
Shinji then supported Yura's waist.
True sensation.
Delicate skin.
The garments woven of black hair loosened on their own as the two drew close.
Upon the tatami, gray robes and black hair intertwined.
No superfluous words.
Untangling crossed threads required patience.
The knot was untied, bit by bit, and smoothed out.
The wooden comb passed through the long hair, then drew back…
Again and again.
The newly formed wood went from raw to smooth.
Moisture gathered between the teeth of the comb.
The process was long.
Yura's breathing gradually lost its rhythm.
Within her ink-black slit-pupils, only Shinji's reflection remained.
But at first, Yura had thought she would win!
A true body completed by the Seventh Transformation, living bone, meridians, blood.
She had waited a hundred years for this shell.
So when she climbed atop him, her ink-black slit-pupils were filled with certainty of victory.
However, heat.
Far more heat than she had anticipated.
The body after the Five Viscera and Five Elements closed their cycle, the hormones produced by the Water element seeped in through the contact surface, while the temperature of the Fire element conducted through the bones.
Like someone pouring a jug of scalding wine into her demonic energy circuits.
"W-Wait—"
"Didn't you say you'd take the lead?"
"That was… that was during the warm-up phase—c-can you put out that fire first—sl-slower…"
"You said faster just now."
"That was three seconds ago—the situation has changed! Strategic adjustment—!"
Her ink-black slit-pupils went from half-lidded to fully shut.
Her voice went from arrogant to shattered.
From shattered to begging.
"I can't… really can't—my waist, my waist—"
Then it went quiet.
Quiet for about the time it takes half a cup of tea to cool.
Afterward.
Yura lay sprawled upon the tatami.
Her black hair was scattered everywhere.
The true body she had gained from the Seventh Transformation was now as limp as a sun-dried strip of kelp.
Her ink-black slit-pupils were half-open, her gaze unfocused.
The corner of her lips curved, that smile that seeped from the very marrow, the satisfaction of one utterly defeated yet deeply content.
"Next time…"
Her voice was so small it was nearly inaudible.
"Next time I'll definitely…"
"Definitely what?"
"Definitely… take some tonic beforehand…"
She turned over and buried her face in the bedding, her voice muffled.
"That thing of yours… is there something wrong with it… a normal demon shouldn't be like that…"
But this was the Shura-Kidney!
The Shura-Heart was an eternally burning furnace flame.
The Shura-Kidney was one of the cores of the closed Five Elements cycle.
In plain terms: after the Twelfth Transformation's Return to One, once Shinji started, he could surpass the ordinary.
Shinji looked at her, then pulled the blanket over her.
She had already said "next time."
So there would certainly be a next time.
Terrible at it, yet eager to play.
That was her.
But before that…
"Oikawa. Something the matter?"
The corridor.
The Yuki-onna, Oikawa, had been standing outside the door for a long time.
She had come to report, the organization of the demons across the three northern districts of Mutsu had been completed.
Ruri had taken over the formation of six groups.
It needed to be reported to Shinji.
The bamboo scroll was in her hands.
It was official business.
Absolutely official business.
It had nothing whatsoever to do with anything else, like coming to see whether the Master would disdain her for her drunken behavior.
Blue hair.
White kimono.
Ice-blue pupils staring levelly at the sliding door ahead.
Oikawa Yukiri had sobered up about an hour ago.
She had been frozen awake, more precisely, frozen awake by herself.
When she had groggily opened her eyes, she found that the entire tatami had frozen into a thick sheet of ice.
She was lying on it.
And the ice spreading outward from the tatami had sealed the floor of the entire room, with neat icicles hanging even from the window frames.
She had sat up on that ice sheet.
Her memories were fragmented.
But piecing the fragments together was enough to confirm what had happened at the banquet.
She remembered the great kappa and the kamaitachi nearly coming to blows.
She remembered drinking.
She did not quite remember how many jugs, but she remembered the expression of the river demon frozen to his cushion, and the worried look the tanuki had given the cup in her hand.
She also remembered, at some point, her gaze had passed through the clamor of the banquet and landed on the direction of the corridor.
She had seen that dark crimson, semi-transparent figure.
Seen its outstretched hand.
Seen the softness in Shinji's eyes as he accepted the bamboo scroll.
Seen the corner of his mouth move.
"What's the rush."
Just those three words.
The next jug she drank, she drank faster than any before.
…
Now, thinking back, something felt off.
Afterward, Oikawa had reorganized her kimono, smoothed her blue hair, confirmed that no emotion rippled within her ice-blue pupils, and then, holding the bamboo scroll, come here to knock on Shinji's door.
She had come to report.
Yes—only to report!
Yet the scene in the corridor made her stop.
The door was not fully closed.
Through the crack seeped not light, but the fluctuation of demonic energy.
Two streams of demonic energy intertwined, faster and faster, more and more irregular.
Oikawa stood still.
She did not move.
She could distinguish the owners of those two auras.
One was Shinji's.
The other was Yura's.
The sounds leaking through the crack were exceedingly faint, but a Yuki-onna's hearing far surpassed a human's.
She heard the rustle of a wooden comb through hair.
Heard the rustle of fabric.
Heard Yura's initial words of certain victory, and the sounds that grew increasingly improper afterward.
Toward the end, there was even "begging."
The Yuki-onna clutched the bamboo scroll tightly to her chest.
She waited for the sounds within to quiet.
It was hard to describe what she felt.
It was like coming to report official business, yet also like a pet who did not know whether its master had discovered the broken vase, lurking by the door, waiting to gauge the wind.
The sounds within quieted after a long time.
The sliding door was pushed open from inside.
Shinji stepped out.
The sash of his gray hemp robe was retied.
His collar was neat.
His crimson demon eyes swept the corridor, then saw Oikawa.
"Oikawa.... something the matter?"
"…Reporting to the Master."
Her voice was as usual, like unbroken ice.
Yet it carried a certain unease.
"The organization of the three northern districts of Mutsu is complete. It requires the Master's confirmation."
She held out the bamboo scroll.
Shinji took it and flipped through it.
"Fine. Proceed as planned."
"Yes."
Oikawa lowered her head, preparing to turn.
"Wait."
She stopped.
Shinji leaned against the doorframe.
His crimson demon eyes studied her.
Moonlight streamed through the window at the end of the corridor, falling upon the Yuki-onna's exceedingly pale face, making the lines of her plain white kimono collar especially distinct.
"Something on your mind?"
"…No."
"Look down at yourself."
Oikawa looked down.
A thin layer of frost had formed upon the wooden floor of the corridor.
She was silent for a moment.
This was not the first time.
Every time her emotions fluctuated, frost formed beneath the Yuki-onna's feet.
She knew this.
Shinji clearly knew it too.
"…"
But this time, why the frost had formed, Oikawa was somewhat unwilling to explain clearly.
She merely turned her gaze toward the other end of the corridor, not looking at him.
Her tone remained steady, as though stating something that had nothing to do with herself.
"The Master… saw the situation at the banquet tonight?"
The question was somewhat oblique.
But the meaning was already clear.
She was asking, did he know?
Shinji's crimson demon eyes rested on her face for a breath.
"I was sitting right there. And I'm not blind."
He said, "A certain Yuki-onna froze a large area around her tonight. And a dozen or so demons. Looked quite amusing. If it hadn't been inconvenient, I'd have wanted to go skiing myself."
The tips of Oikawa's ears flushed soundlessly.
Just a little.
Hidden behind the falling blue hair.
Nearly invisible.
But Shinji's eyesight had always been good.
He saw it.
Her voice remained steady, though it had dropped from a strained thirty percent to twenty percent.
"…This subordinate was drunk and behaved improperly. I ask the Master to punish me."
"Punish what?"
Shinji waved a hand.
"We won a battle. Getting drunk is normal. Those frozen demons will thaw tomorrow."
"…Yes."
Oikawa lowered her head, staring at the thin frost beneath her feet.
She stared for a while longer.
The frost showed no sign of receding.
It had even spread outward a little more.
Shinji did not press further.
He merely tilted his head, his gaze falling upon the hair by her temple.
"Oikawa."
"…Here."
"What is your full name?"
The question came suddenly.
Oikawa blinked.
Only then did she truly lift her eyes.
Her ice-blue pupils met his crimson demon gaze.
She hesitated for half a breath.
"Oikawa… Yukiri."
The two characters left her mouth very softly, like shattered ice falling upon the surface of a stream.
As expected. Oikawa Yukiri.
In the original Nurarihyon no Mago, Oikawa Yukiri was a principal officer of both the first and second generations of the Nura-gumi.
She was the representative of the Yuki-onna, the Great Yuki-onna.
The same name.
The same origin, Tōno.
Her appearance had been different at first, but over this period, as her strength grew, she had come closer.
Thinking about it, the original Oikawa Yukiri had appeared as a top officer of the Nura-gumi from the very beginning.
Compared to when she had first come south, she must have been stronger as well.
The difference in personality could be explained the same way.
A Yuki-onna, after all, needed to be "thawed."
That was only natural, was it not?
It seemed he had also stolen such a great officer from the Nura-gumi…
Well.
Or rather, excellent.
The corner of Shinji's mouth moved.
"Yukiri. A good name."
This was the second time he had praised her.
The last time had been in the corridor of Kaede's Village.
That time, he had praised her surname.
This time, her given name.
Oikawa Yukiri's ice-blue pupils turned back, meeting his gaze.
"Thank you, Master."
"I remember you said you are the descendant of that Yuki-onna who married a hunter centuries ago, correct?"
"…Yes."
"In that story, the Yuki-onna left the hunter in the end."
Oikawa did not respond.
"But some say she never left, she merely became snow, drifting upon the hunter's roof, returning to look once every winter."
Oikawa had never heard this version.
Because this version, did not exist in the legends of this world.
Shinji had made it up.
But Oikawa did not know that.
She merely stood frozen for a moment, then spoke honestly.
"This subordinate… has never heard what the Master speaks of."
"You have heard it now. In the future, it will circulate outside as well. It will be your osore… no longer snow that buries travelers, but snow that protects them."
"What is called snow, can also be warm."
"All right. Go rest."
Shinji's gaze was as usual as he spoke.
"There will be much to do tomorrow."
As his words fell, the Māra's figure walked toward the other end of the corridor.
His footsteps faded into the distance.
Oikawa Yukiri stood where she was.
Moonlight shone upon her.
The bamboo scroll was clutched to her chest, strangely, much smaller than before.
Her ice-blue pupils watched the direction he had departed.
Watched the end of the corridor.
The gray-robed silhouette disappeared around the corner.
She lowered her head.
She saw the frost beneath her feet, thicker than before.
But…
Where Shinji had just stood.
The frost there, had melted.
"Osore born of protection…"
"I understand, Master."
She revealed a very faint smile.
.
.
.
.
T/n: Well, I tried to write an r18 scene, but I'm not getting all those hints the author is giving. Like, wtf is going on? I haven't read much non-human r18 stuff, so I have no idea what kind of xxx they were having. If you guys have any idea, please explain it to me.
And also in original Nurarihyon no Mago, Her name was not Oikawa Yukiri but Oikawa Setsura