Boundary Of Life And Death Chpt. 3: The Past

“Yukari? What happens when we die?”
“Your heart stops and the worms eat you.”

Yukari looked at her cherished friend; a decade or more had passed since they had first met, and Yukari couldn't help but wonder at how much she had changed. Youkai developed too, from only shadows to more corporeal forms, but the process could take centuries; many never even started. Yet, in just ten or so Springs, the creature before her was unrecognisable from the one she had found loitering in that cave- save for the same daydreamy, curious, childish gaze.

Yukari had, by chance, found a field of flowers far away from any human settlement, and had decided to move Yuyuko there a few years after they met. The village of humans that their mountain dwelling overlooked had expanded thanks to the confidence given by the local shrine, and the townsfolk had been taking too keen an interest in their little mountain home for her to be comfortable. The garden was beautiful, and plentiful with food and shelter; there were various fruit-bearing trees scattered around, and a lake playing home to a supply of fish. Yuyuko was old enough now to forage for herself, a fact Yukari was glad of; the girl had often complained of hunger even though Yukari brought her something to eat almost every day.

She never would have expected to grow so fond of a human, but Yuyuko had held some charm over her since the very first day. Yukari visited frequently, bringing her objects, sweet goods, drink, and news from the humans she observed. She had taught Yuyuko how to write, and sew, and start a fire, and gave her any tools she needed- stolen from any human who thought it safe to look away for a second: a knife to prepare food, bowls and jugs for water, twine and fabrics for clothing and building materials for shelter; the humans blamed these unexplainable disappearances on fairies, which gave her no small amount of satisfaction. Before disappearing each Winter, she made sure to leave Yuyuko with enough supplies to feed several armies- the shortage of food being blamed on angry harvest sprites- and upon Spring's return, visited her before attending to any other business. She adored their lazy evenings spent together, telling stories of the world and her adventures among the humans, and hearing Yuyuko's thoughts on the world from a human perspective.

Yuyuko didn't quite seem satisfied with the blunt, morbid answer her question had received, her lips pursed in thought. Yukari rolled her eyes. “Oh, honestly... I don't know why humans spend so much time thinking about death. It comes for them quickly enough- surely they should focus on living instead? But, fine.” The subject was of little interest to her, but still she knew plenty. “For humans at least, The Yama decides whether or not you go to Heaven. Highly strung, that one,” she said, reclining almost in idle protest at how Yama lived. “She gets tangled up interfering in others' lives trying to improve them... If she weren’t immortal the stress would kill her. As for what happens to youkai, I wouldn't know. I've never died.”
Yuyuko sat up excitably. “Do you think youkai go to Heaven too?” she asked.
Yukari made a noise of disgust. “Eurgh, I hope not. Boring place, and full of entitled brats with nothing to do. Hell's far more entertaining.”
“...You've been to Hell?” Yuyuko asked, keenly aware that there was some grand and terrible story behind this.
“Oh, once or twice... Not to say I was invited, but the parties they hold down there aren't fussy about the guestlist. Although... Well, I'm not allowed to go there, any more.”
Yuyuko laughed; a clear, sweet sound. “My Yukari, too rowdy for Hell! Who could have guessed!”
Yukari silenced herself. Yuyuko had the wrong idea about Yukari's exile from the deep underground, but this idea had made her smile- and so the true story would never be told.

“So.” Yuyuko sat up attentively.
“Oh, dear... That was a very decisive 'so'.”
“So! You never told me what happened about that request you got.”
Yukari raised an eyebrow. “I didn't tell you because I haven't done anything yet. I'm not going to tell you half of a story.” Yuyuko persisted, however, and Yukari was always quick to give in to her demands. “Fine, fine... I paid him a visit. A curious problem- he asked for my help in subduing a particularly difficult youkai.”
Yuyuko's head tilted. “Youkai? Shouldn't the shrine maidens deal with that?”
“Shrine maidens can't get near it,” Yukari said with a grin; “Nor can any other human- though they certainly try. To think a cherry tree of all things could cause so much trouble.”
“Oh, but the blossoms are so pretty... how could that be a problem?”
“Actually, that is the problem. This one is too pretty. Humans can't resist it's pull, even from miles away, and then something about it- well, I don't know why, of course, but it kills them. It's as though they simply stop wanting to live. Youki says it feels like it's willing him to die- though obviously, he can't- and it seemed to get quite annoyed by the fact it couldn't hurt me, either. I can’t just leave something like that free to do whatever it wants, so I think I'll-”

Yuyuko's demeanour had changed dramatically, interrupting Yukari's chain of thought; Yuyuko stared forward blankly, her eyes hard and face pale, shaking slightly with an almost fearful tension in her muscles. The sudden end to Yukari's speech seemed to rouse her slightly as she mechanically turned her head to speak to her, every slow movement as though it were forced. “You'll- what will you do to it?” She asked, a poor attempt at sounding merely curious about the end of the story.
Yukari narrowed her eyes, but continued. “Only a shrine maiden can destroy it, but I can at least seal it away. I'm more used to breaking into seals than creating them... but it's still just a boundary, in the end.”
Her boastful smile quickly faded as she saw Yuyuko had returned to her previous catatonic state. “Mm, seal it away, somewhere no one will ever know about it,” she said serenely; “it's a shame it can't be destroyed, but at least you can stop it from ever hurting anyone else.”


It was not the first time Yukari had seen Yuyuko like this. Although Yukari had taken measures to ensure her safety, Yuyuko had never seemed to come to terms with her ability; in her younger days she would often be found shaking and crying with fear, and as she got older this fear became quieter and more inward. Yukari usually struggled with reassurances, not understanding why Yuyuko would still harbour such self-loathing, or what had triggered the odd display of emotions; but this time the cause was obvious, though misguided, and she began to put her friend to rights.

“The moon and the turtle are both round,” she began softly, though her eyes burned into Yuyuko watching for every tiny response to her words. “But it would be ridiculous to say they were the same thing. You'd think I was completely insane.” Yuyuko only withdrew further. “What I'm saying is, you're comparing yourself to Saigyou Ayakashi based on a single common trait, so I can only assume the same of you.”
“I'm... I'm not-”
“Boundary Of Truth And Lies, dear,” Yukari said, warmly; Yuyuko usually froze completely, so getting a response was to be encouraged. “I suppose it's a human thing to just assume all magic is bad. But, well... How to describe it? There is a... malice behind Saigyou Ayakshi's magic; I still felt I was in a dangerous situation, even though its magic couldn't harm me at all. It's driven by the desire to kill- It feeds off the death of humans. Well, I don't know where your magic comes from, but the simple fact you ran from it, rather than embrace it, tells me enough. You've never once asked me to drop you in a village so you can start killing for the fun of it- if you still think you're comparable to that monster, I don't know what else to tell you.”

Yuyuko's face was hard, unreadable. Yukari sighed, and repositioned herself in front of Yuyuko, on her knees. She took Yuyuko's hands into her own, her face inches away from Yuyuko's. “Perhaps you can't tell the difference, then, but I can. Take solace in the fact that if I had ever thought you were dangerous, I would have killed you. You're only human, it wouldn't take a second, and I wouldn't fear a reprisal.” This was less than reassuring, but Yuyuko stirred slightly, and made eye contact for the first time. “I haven't killed you, because I want you around. I could barely stand to be near that tree, but you have quite the opposite effect; I want every waking moment to be spent with you. Does that make sense to you?”

From Yukari, it was a genuine question. What made sense from a magical perspective rarely moved humans, and even in happier times communication was sometimes stilted. But Yuyuko forced a smile and nodded, her eyes shining with tears.
“...Boundary Of Truth And Lies. But at least you're smiling again. I think what we need, then,” she said, standing up and delicately brushing herself down, “is a drink or ten, to prepare for the sealing later tonight. I'll only be an hour, or so.” The booze run was an excuse to leave Yuyuko alone for a while; she could quite easily have reached into a Gap and plucked any quantity of bottles she liked in seconds, but claiming she wanted to pick out something special was an easy enough yarn to spin to explain her lengthy absence. She didn't see Yuyuko's anguished sobs as she departed.

-

Yukari had originally planned to seal the tree before sunset. It was a largely docile creature, but it would most likely fight back once it realised she posed a threat, and the power of the night may have brought out previously-unseen abilities in the tree that made sealing it that much more difficult. But Yuyuko came first, and as the sky turned inky-blue she shrugged the plan from her mind. Losing to a tree was far too embarrassing to allow no matter what time of day it was.

At first glance, Yuyuko was nowhere to be seen. “My my, not in bed already are you?” Yukari called out to the garden. “I stole this from an oni, you know,” she said, waving her ill-gotten gains in the air as she spoke, “so I'm going to be in a lot of trouble soon. I'd hoped you might share at least one drop of my guilt.”

She took to the air to get a better view of the garden, scanning the darkness; Yuyuko would often go to hide somewhere after such an episode, but youkai eyesight normally made short work of finding her. Yukari froze for a second as she saw Yuyuko in the grass; lying perfectly still, something distinctly off about her.

“It's hardly even night time, you really ought to be more nocturnal than this-” and she stopped, made speechless by what she saw as she came closer. Yuyuko was unmoving, not even with breath; the deep cut across her neck was no longer bleeding, but her clothes and hair were stained through.

Yukari's face betrayed none of her thoughts as she wordlessly knelt beside Yuyuko and cradled her, looking into her unseeing eyes. After a moment's repose, she stood, gently lifting Yuyuko's body with her; without a sound, she opened a Gap, and stepped through.


-

Even in the blue of night, Saigyou Ayakashi's petals were beautiful, a rich purple rather than the pink of daylight. The evening wind gently buffeted it's branches, and toyed with loose falling petals; every facet of the tree was like a living painting. But Yukari had been unmoved by the sight the first time she saw it, and as she set Yuyuko upon the ground before it, its attempt to charm her set her fuse alight.

“You,” she hissed, an inhuman sound, her face twisted and monstrous. Words failing her, she sent a vicious blast of magic against the tree; the branch it hit snapped with a great burst of petals that got caught up in the rush. Another blast, and then twice more- now realising it was under attack, the tree made what little attempt at counter-attacking it could, focused blasts of its own magic peppering against her uselessly. She laughed coldly. “Is that why? You couldn't take my life, so you took hers instead?” She sent a great barrage of danmaku at it, the explosions splintering the bark and sending a great cloud of petals into the air; in desperation, the tree sent these at her, weaponised, but her reactions were too quick and she leapt through a gap and out of the way, taking advantage of the opening to assault the exposed bark.

With a frenzied cruelty, she blasted the tree again and again and again, incinerating every last blossom; the tree stood beaten, limbs broken and limp, stripped bare of the beauty that had been the root of its allure. And yet, it remained undefeated; she might assault it until nothing remained besides ash, but the stories would not be forgotten, and it would only grow anew. She landed by Yuyuko and looked up at the barren wreck, face hardened and determined. “I may not be able to destroy you,” she called, voice cracking with a very slight edge of triumph, “but I can make certain hers is the last life you ever take.”

She projected a magic circle beneath her, the arcane symbols channeling the magic of the night into her, and as she closed her eyes the boundaries of the world opened before her, of all things tangible and intangible. To all others, boundaries were stubborn and immovable- part of the ancient magic of creation; but to her alone, they were malleable.

Manipulating these boundaries to create a regular magic seal would be a simple command, but that was no longer her goal; the plan that had sprung to mind on the spur of the moment would require a far more delicate, cajoling touch. She felt the boundaries of the garden all around her, and pulled them loose like threads from yarn. Then, the boundaries of the tree, with a will of their own and stubborn even to her, came loose to her power, and then the boundaries of every flower, animal and spirit within the area. Finally, the cornerstone of this grand seal- Yuyuko, with whom she knit every one of these trailing threads into a new boundary, pulling it tighter and tighter until it was impenetrable.

The process was beyond anything she had ever attempted before, and as the fires of her anger cooled, exhaustion took it's toll; as the last boundary in the spell closed, she broke down to her knees and wept.

-

“Youki.”
He had been present for a while, attracted by the sudden explosion of activity, but had wisely kept out of the way of Yukari's work. He walked forward now, and stood beside her, full of questions but savvy enough to bite his tongue.
She made a small attempt to stand, but the spell had almost spent her completely; her physical form was now supported only by stubbornness. “Forgive me,” she said, as he offered an arm to her, taken back after it was ignored; “I've not performed such a large-scale spell before.”
“It is done, then?” he asked softly. “Saigyou Ayakashi is sealed?”
“In a sense...” She was recovering quickly, a wry smirk crossing her lips as she revelled in the spectacle of what she had just done. Even by her own standards, it was quite a work of genius, especially for being conceived in the height of rage. “Or rather- yes, I have done as requested. The tree is no longer a threat to anyone, living or otherwise... and now it's time to name my price.”

“These gardens are now reserved for the dead. A great barrier surrounds them that no living creature may breach. The spirits of those killed by the tree may now call this place home, and remain here at peace without fear of exorcism, until they come to terms with their deaths and are ready to move on. You have many, many new guests to attend to,” she said, fixing Youki with a significant look; “The Konpaku clan should keep these gardens beautiful so they feel comfortable here, no?”
Youki opened his mouth in surprise, but he knew he had little room to argue; he nodded dutifully. “...We would have continued to do so regardless, and it's certainly for a noble cause. Very well- we will ensure no more beautiful garden exists in all the world.”

“Were Saigyou Ayakashi ever to bloom again,” she continued, making no acknowledgement of Youki's pledge, “all it would find is a world of death... but as I'm a kind-hearted sort, I have spared it that sadness. A small part of my dear friend lingers; and she will remain here, forever. I have bound her spirit to a seal on the tree, preventing its bloom. So long as the tree remains sealed, she can never move on- and so long as she remains in this world, the seal can never be broken; a clever trick, if I may say so. My wish... is that she will never reincarnate, and never again know pain...”

She took a great, steadying breath, and turned back to Youki, whose head was bowed respectfully. In both breadth and height he dwarfed her, but as she squared up to him he withdrew, just slightly, and kept his head bowed. In a low, almost dangerous voice, she commanded him, “you will treat her as you would treat a princess,” and walked away without another word.

Although Yuyuko's spirit remained enough that it might be bound to the seal, it was barely even a trace; few spirits had the willpower or desire to remain in the living world long, and those that did would more often become vengeful and malevolent than take any corporeal form. But as she wandered the gardens in solitude, now free of Saigyou Ayakashi's oppressive magic, the tiniest fragment of hope survived all her attempts to quash it with reason. The spell had at least ensured that her spirit would always remain; if it could just remember even the tiniest shred of who it once was, then maybe- possibly-

Over the weeks and months that followed, Yukari visited Hakugyokorou every day, making a plausible excuse out of checking the integrity of both seals. Every day, she asked Youki how the resident spirits were responding- “just out of curiosity”. Now avenged, many of the agitated spirits had calmed down and become peaceful, though others remained confused. It stung her to realise that, had she only thought to create this world sooner, Yuyuko's loneliness might be solved; her manipulation of death precluded her from living company, but could have been used to pacify the already-dead.

Even among the peaceful spirits, none had taken a form more advanced than misty orbs of will, similar to youkai shades, and she was no longer able to convince herself anything more might come of her spell. She planned to spend a long time sleeping in solitude to let her thoughts settle, but as she was opening the Gap to nowhere-in-particular, a clear voice shook her from her reverie.
“Oh, hello.”

Shining with the same ethereal quality of the moon, the ghostly form of Yuyuko drifted towards her. Yukari's chest tightened, but the wistful and carefree way Yuyuko looked about, apparently wholly oblivious to the gravity of the reunion, was disarming; all she managed in response was her name: “Yuyuko.”
“Oh, that's me, isn't it?” A mildly ponderous look came over her, agonisingly carefree; there were a hundred things Yukari wanted to say, all at once, and a thousand she wanted to hear. “Well, if you know me,” she continued, “then I suppose I must know you as well... Oh, the moon is pretty tonight,” she said, the entirely out-of-place observation cracking Yukari's shell and getting a choked laugh in response.

Yukari had no idea if memory loss was normal for ghosts, or how much Yuyuko might remember- if anything- about her life, or how much of the original person remained when a ghost was formed; a lot of learning was ahead of both of them, much to explain, many questions to ask Youki, and more boundaries to watch over than ever before... but for the moment, all of that could wait. She held a hand out to Yuyuko. “Walk with me,” she asked softly.
“I think I'm floating, though,” she responded airily, but took Yukari's hand anyway.
Yukari didn't take her eyes off her beloved friend, as though afraid the wind might spirit her away in a sudden gust. ”Do you remember me?” she asked; “my name is Yukari,” she added as an additional prompt, just in case.
Yuyuko's face shifted in thought, as though wondering herself if the name might recall anything. Eventually, rather than commit herself to an answer, she smiled sweetly. “Hello, Yukari. I'm pleased to meet you.”