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Costs



Sometimes, she could hear the talk as she walked through an unfamiliar village in the red and white clothing of her calling.

It really didn’t matter to her very much as she flared an arrowhead bright pink with purification power to take out a hostile youkai. She didn’t think much about it as she knelt by a frightened woman and helped bring a new life into the world  or eased the journey of a soul getting ready to step into the next.

It stung sometimes, though, when a Shinto priest would ask her to assist with a rite, to dance before the kami or to help with an exorcism, but then spotted her companion standing near at hand with his hands stuffed in his red sleeves and his inu ears catching everything, and the priest would beg off, making up some excuse.  

It hurt more when she turned to her companion and saw his face grow hard and closed, his ears flatten as he heard the words said too softly for her ears, and how his hand sometimes would clench the hilt of his sword, seeking control.  

Sometimes, late at night when he was asleep, his strong arms wrapped lovingly and protectively around her body, she would stare into the darkness and think about the life she could have had.  She would think of the gentle boy who would have married her happily and the easy life he would have given her in a world unbelievably unlike the one she now walked in.  Then she would roll over on her side, and look at the silver haired man laying next to her, and realize how his relaxed, sleeping face made her heart quicken, and perfect her body fit into his, and how she couldn’t imagine life without him.  She would  smile, knowing how much better her life was because she rebelled and refused the easy way out.

Better the gossip and being a rebel than living a pleasant life without love, she would think, then reach out, touch  his ears, and fall back into a contented sleep.