After leaving the cave, the group parted ways on the mountain path outside the demon-extermination village.
Oikawa rode the wind northward, vanishing beyond the skyline of northern Musashi.
Kirara shrank back to the size of a housecat; a small white cat, its two tails swaying gently, perched upon Midoriko's shoulder.
The change from colossal beast to tiny cat had no transition at all, like a balloon deflating in reverse, a single pop and it shrank.
Midoriko held her current true body, the Shikon no Tama, standing before Kikyō.
Sunlight filtered down through the canopy above, casting dappled light and shadow upon the two miko.
One was the strongest of the present age.
One was the strongest of centuries past.
Kikyō's cold clarity was like the moon; Midoriko's stillness was like a mountain, each set off the other.
"There is something I need your help with next, Miss Midoriko."
Kikyō spoke.
Her crimson lips parted, her tone as usual, but Midoriko heard the meaning beneath.
"You're going to train?"
Yes.
Kikyō's purpose in facilitating the materialization of Midoriko's remnant soul was, in a word, training.
To make herself stronger.
To become capable of bearing more power within her physical body, releasing more reiryoku.
And even more, to become capable of perfectly bearing her husband.
Kikyō's dark eyes looked at the Shikon no Tama in Midoriko's hands.
"The Shikon no Tama cannot be taken there. The reiryoku there will affect the jewel, and interfere with the training's effects."
"And while I am gone, although Shinji can guard Kikyō Castle, the Magatsuhi within the Shikon no Tama—"
"He may be able to suppress it, but you don't want him to expend his energy on that, do you?"
Midoriko finished the sentence for her.
Kikyō nodded.
This was also the truth.
Though Shinji's strength already matched a daiyōkai, the Magatsuhi within the Shikon no Tama was another matter.
It was not something that could be suppressed by force alone, it required the purest possible reiryoku, and a sufficiently firm will.
The latter, Shinji naturally did not lack.
The former, he could not achieve.
Though he possessed the Three Souls of Heaven, Earth, and Man, he was, in the end, a demon.
However pure or powerful his demonic energy, it was, by its very essence, impure.
He could sense and even mobilize reiryoku, but he clearly could not wield it well.
Midoriko, though now also a demon, a tsukumogami, was a different case entirely.
She was the existence materialized from the Shikon no Tama itself.
In other words, she was a part of the Shikon no Tama.
The will of the Naohi condensed into a person.
The dead soul driving the physical body.
For her to guard the Shikon no Tama was the equivalent of the Shikon no Tama guarding itself.
There was no more suitable candidate.
"I understand."
Midoriko cradled the Shikon no Tama in her palm.
White light flowed between her fingers.
Her brown irises were as calm as Kikyō's dark eyes, though the difference was that Kikyō's calm was a steadfast, unchanging clarity, while Midoriko's was the pure, unstained stillness of one who had seen all the storms of the world.
"Leave it to me. There will be no problem."
Kikyō looked at her.
She was silent for two seconds, as though weighing what exactly she was handing over.
But in the end, she nodded faintly.
After all, it was only temporary.
"Thank you."
Midoriko shook her head.
"No need for thanks, this was originally my duty."
She turned, holding the Shikon no Tama, the hem of her white miko robes trailing across the mountain path.
Kirara jumped down from her shoulder, circling once around her ankles.
"Then I'll go on ahead to Kikyō Castle and wait for you both."
Midoriko turned back.
Her brown irises swept past Kikyō, finally settling on Shinji—
Pausing for a moment.
Then she smiled.
"Safe travels, Shinji."
Calling him directly by name.
No "Master."
No "Lord."
The pride of the strongest miko of centuries past or rather, the candor of a max-Affection materialized artifact-spirit, left her utterly unflinching before the master of her current body.
What remained was only sincerity and goodwill.
Afterward, Midoriko, holding the Shikon no Tama and accompanied by Kirara, headed east along the mountain path.
The tall silhouette in white miko robes grew more distant in the afternoon sunlight, until it vanished entirely at the end of the tree shade.
Next.
"Let's go."
Kikyō looked toward Shinji beside her.
"To the second place."
It was also her training ground.
Western Musashi Province.
Mount Azusa.
To ordinary eyes, this was an unremarkable mountain, not tall, not steep, without even noteworthy scenic sites or historic ruins.
Its body was shrouded year-round in a thin, unbroken mist.
From a distance, it appeared as nothing more than a blurred mass of dark green outline, crouching quietly at the border of Musashi and Kai.
But in the world of miko and onmyōji, the name Mount Azusa carried an entirely different weight.
The azusa of Mount Azusa shared its origin with the azusa bow in a miko's hands.
Legend told that in the age of myth, when Amaterasu hid within the Heavenly Rock Cave, the gods hung jewels upon a bow made of azusa wood, and its sound drew Amaterasu forth.
Since then, azusa wood was regarded as a tree that connected to the divine.
And Mount Azusa, which grew thousand-year azusa trees, was considered a high-order spiritual ground for miko training.
Upon the mountain, there was no shrine, no torii, only a spiritual temple at its deepest point, along with a waterfall, mountains of azusa trees, and the unbroken reiryoku that never dispersed.
The entire mountain was like a spirit-stone polished by heaven and earth for millions of years, locking the pure energy of the world within its body, slowly and persistently permeating all living things that stepped within.
Though within this mountain, apart from the azusa trees, there were no other living creatures.
But a miko training here would have her reiryoku refined.
Even if the total volume of reiryoku a miko could use was innate, refinement could make it purer.
In the original Inuyasha, Kikyō had most likely trained here as well.
And left behind a "bow" imbued with her will, which would become an object enshrined in the spiritual temple fifty years later.
And now.
She, too, would enter to "train."
Kikyō and Shinji arrived at the foot of the mountain.
The thin mist parted on its own.
No wind, it parted of its own accord.
Like layers of curtains drawn back.
The mist retreated to both sides, revealing a small path paved with stone steps, winding upward toward the mountainside.
Ancient azusa trees on either side of the steps were lush and verdant, their branches and leaves flowing with an exceedingly pure reiryoku, not dense, yet omnipresent, like breathing in the crisp water of a mountain spring.
At the end of the path, a spectral figure floated upon the platform at the top of the stone steps.
A female form.
Semi-transparent throughout, her outline sketched by pale green spiritual light.
Her face was indistinct.
Only the position of her eyes held two points of emerald light.
She wore the garments of an exceedingly ancient miko, simpler than Kikyō's white uwagi and crimson hakama.
Her hem was adorned with azusa-leaf-shaped spiritual patterns.
The Spirit of Mount Azusa.
The mountain god of this mountain.
To be precise, a spirit-body condensed from the will of the mountain itself.
Unlike gods elevated from demons or humans through worship, the Spirit of Mount Azusa belonged to the will of the mountain itself, born with the earth, existing with the mountain.
As long as Mount Azusa existed, she existed.
And she seemed to have been waiting for a very long time.
The spectral figure slowly lowered her head as the two ascended the stone steps.
A bow, but not to Kikyō.
Though Kikyō, as a miko, possessed powerful reiryoku, and the Spirit of Mount Azusa naturally respected her, that bow was directed at Shinji.
Kishin Mikoto-no-Mitama.
A shōshin of two provinces.
Worshipped across more than ten provinces.
In the Shintō hierarchy of this land, his current standing far exceeded that of a rustic, minor deity like the Spirit of Mount Azusa.
The Spirit of Mount Azusa before him was no different from an ordinary commoner meeting a daimyō.
Shinji, before coming, had already instructed his demons to send word ahead, giving her time to prepare.
"I have awaited you for a long time."
The Spirit of Mount Azusa's voice was like wind passing through bamboo groves, blurred, ethereal.
"Lord Demon God... Lady Kikyō... Mount Azusa has prepared for you both."
"Thank you."
Kikyō nodded faintly.
Shinji glanced toward the mountainside, a waterfall poured down from between the rock walls, its waters murmuring.
Behind the waterfall, a small spiritual temple was faintly visible.
Ancient to the extreme, the mottled moss on its stone pillars was thicker than the pillars themselves.
"My wife will be training here for some time."
He said to the Spirit of Mount Azusa.
"Take good care of her."
The spectral figure of the Spirit of Mount Azusa trembled faintly, like the surface of water stirred by wind.
"N-naturally..."
Her voice quavered.
Because that sentence had been spoken very lightly, yet carried the utterly natural tone of a superior.
It was the first time the Spirit of Mount Azusa had experienced being commanded by a demon.
Yet she felt not the slightest aversion.
Instead, she felt reassured.
Because it meant she, too, had entered the ranks beneath his command, receiving his "protection."
Amidst this, Mount Azusa's reiryoku also grew especially pure once more as evening arrived.
The setting sun sank behind the mountaintop.
The last ray of light struck the mist of the waterfall, refracting a faint rainbow.
Kikyō stood upon the stone platform before the spiritual temple.
Her white uwagi and crimson hakama had been tinted warm by the dusk.
Her black hair drifted gently in the mountain wind.
She had already changed into light training attire, the outer miko robes removed, leaving only the thin white silk garment beneath, convenient for sitting in meditation beneath the waterfall.
Her longbow stood upright beside the stone pillar.
The hairpin was still there.
The dark crimson crystal glimmered faintly in the afterglow of dusk.
Shinji stood across from her.
His gray robe was speckled with droplets from the waterfall's spray.
"You're sure you don't need me to stay?"
"I don't."
Kikyō shook her head.
"You staying here would actually be a hindrance, your demonic energy, though clean, is ultimately impure and chaotic. It would interfere with the quenching of reiryoku."
This was the truth.
The demonic energy density after the Twelfth Transformation Māra's Return to One, no matter how contained, would produce a faint turbidity effect in a training ground of such pure reiryoku.
Like dripping a drop of ink into clear water, not fatal, but enough to affect purity.
"And besides."
Kikyō revealed a beautiful smile.
"Kikyō Castle still needs you to hold it. Midoriko may be able to guard the Shikon no Tama, but the demon system of the entire eastern lands cannot function without you."
Those words were very rational.
But the hand that reached over to grip his wrist, was not rational at all.
As though confirming he was still there.
And as though confirming she was about to let go, temporarily.
Shinji looked down at her hand.
Then raised his other hand and covered the back of hers.
"Rest assured."
His crimson demon eyes met her dark pupils.
"This is not a farewell. I will come every day."
Kikyō's lashes trembled.
"...Every day?"
"From Kikyō Castle to Mount Azusa, at my speed, it's no more than a blink."
Shinji said earnestly.
"I'll bring you something to eat while I'm at it, you miko don't eat during training, right? Then I'll bring fruit. And tea leaves. And besides, when I come, maybe I won't disturb your training, and might even 'assist' it...."
Hearing that, Kikyō shot Shinji a glare, yet her face flushed inexplicably, and the curve at the corner of her lips grew even more pronounced.
After all, they were newlyweds.
She, too, was reluctant to be separated from him.
Thinking this, the miko withdrew her hand from his palm, and cupped his face with both hands.
Then she rose onto her toes, and her kiss fell upon his lips.
Very light.
Very brief.
But enough.
"Then it's settled... every day."
Kikyō released him and stepped back.
The white silk drifted gently in the mountain wind.
Her black hair lifted, revealing the hairpin at her temple.
"No being late!"
Shinji stood where he was.
The sensation of that kiss still lingered on his lips.
Very soft.
Very warm.
Very clean and pleasant.
"...I wouldn't bear to be late."
He couldn't even bear to leave.
Thinking this, Shinji turned and walked down the stone steps.
After a few steps, he glanced back.
Kikyō was still standing on the stone platform.
Her white figure was like a painting in the afterglow of dusk.
She did not wave.
She merely watched him.
Within her dark pupils was reflected his retreating back, and behind him—the sky dyed gold.
Shinji smiled.
"See you tomorrow."
Then he turned and stepped out of Mount Azusa's thin mist.
At the foot of the mountain, the spectral figure of the Spirit of Mount Azusa appeared for a moment upon an azusa tree by the path.
Her emerald eyes watched him depart.
Then she turned toward the mountainside, beneath the waterfall, the miko had already sat cross-legged, beginning the quenching of her reiryoku.
The Spirit of Mount Azusa trembled faintly.
She sensed that reiryoku.
Exceedingly pure.
Exceedingly powerful.
Purer and more powerful than any miko she had received in thousands of years.
But at the same time, deep within that reiryoku, there was a nearly imperceptible layer of golden luster.
It was a thread of faith-power.
Extending from thousands kms away, tied to the depths of the miko's soul.
Connecting her to a certain existence.
It was the eternal covenant between god and miko.
An eternal marriage vow.
The Spirit of Mount Azusa gazed at that thread.
Upon her spectral features surfaced an expression that, if she had a mouth, could roughly be called a "smile."
"So that's how it is."
She murmured softly.
"What that Lord Demon God said about coming every day... was no jest at all."