"You cannot go home. There is no way to cross the Kyokai. Here, in this country, you will be betrayed and you will die."
"You're lying."
She would trust only the sword. Youko gripped the hilt and focused on the strength in her hands. Depend on no one, trust no one. Only the sword would protect her.
And then … ?
Keiki had brought her here and he never said anything about not going home. Finding Keiki was probably the only way. Right now, that was all she could hope for.
"Didn't I tell you that Keiki was your enemy?"
I'm not going to think about it.
"Do you really think he will help you?"
Either way.
Whether friend or foe, finding Keiki and finding out for herself would be preferable to wandering around like this without a clue. When she met him, she would ask him why he brought her here, ask him how she could get back. She'd get the whole story out of him.
"Supposing you do go home, then what? Eh? You think then you'll live happily ever after?"
"Be quiet."
She knew what he was saying. She couldn't forget the nightmares she'd had about this place. She couldn't pretend that nothing had happened and go back to the way things were before. There were no guarantees about her appearance, either. And if not, then the Youko Nakajima that used to be was gone forever.
"What a miserable creature, what an everlasting fool you are, little girl."
The monkey's bright, loud laughter ringing in her ears, Youko roused herself once more. She didn't really understand why she was doing it. She was miserable, she was a fool. Nonetheless, if this was enough to make her give up, then she should have given up a long time ago.
Youko considered the current state of her body. She was covered with wounds, caked with blood and mud, her clothing reduced to reeking rags. But she didn't give a damn about her appearance, if that's what it took. Throwing away her life was no longer such a simple proposition. If she was indeed better off dead, then she should have died on the roof of the school when the kochou first attacked her.
It wasn't because she didn't want to die. It probably wasn't because she wanted that badly to live. It simply was because she did not want to give up.
She was going home. Without a doubt, she would return to the place she so deeply longed for. As for what awaited her there, she'd cross that bridge then. Because going home meant staying alive, she would protect herself. She wasn't about to die in a place like this.
Youko clung to the sword and pulled herself to her feet. She thrust the sword again into the rising slope and began climbing the brush-covered hill. No hill she had ever known had been so excruciating, covering so short a distance so slowly. Numerous times her feet slipped out from under her. She urged on her battered self, focused on the objective above her. She at last reached the end of the gauntlet, grasping the shoulder of the road with her outstretched hands.
She dug in her fingers and crawled up to the surface of the road. With a groan she pulled her body onto the mountain road and fell prostrate on level ground. At the same time she heard a faint sound. The sound came from the far side of the road. A bitter smile came unbidded to her lips.
Oh, perfect.
Youko hated this world with all her heart. Approaching the road was a sound like the wail of a crying baby.
4-8
The pack of dog beasts came at her in a rush, the same ones that had attacked her before on the mountain road. Swinging the heavy sword, she dispatched most of them and was soon drenched with blood.
A dog beast leapt at her. She decapitated it. Suddenly she found herself down on one knee, a deep bite wound in her left calf. She felt no pain, as if the limb were numbed, though from the ankle down the pain was intense. She glanced at her blood-soaked leg then surveyed the road for any lingering foes. One dog remained.
This dog beast was bigger than all the rest she had felled. The difference in its physical strength was obvious as well. She had delivered two solid blows to it already and it hardly looked winded.
The beast crouched low against the ground. She sized up their positions and corrected the grip on the sword. The weapon had almost become an extension of her own body, yet it was so heavy she could barely keep the tip on target. She felt a dizziness verging on vertigo. Her consciousness began to cloud over.
She swung the sword at the shadow that bounded toward her. The blade did not so much cut as it slapped against it. Taking everything Jouyuu had to give she could not deliver a second blow.
The slap from the sword was enough to send the black beast sprawling. An instant later it was back on its feet, flinging itself towards her. She aimed at its snout and could do nothing more than thrust the sword forward.
The tip of the blade ripped through the beast's face. At the same time its claws tore into her shoulders. The shock of collision jarred the sword loose from her grasp. She managed to grab hold and with a shout turned on the fallen beast and swung down with all her strength.
Her energy exhausted, she stumbled forward, collapsed. Somehow the sword had pierced the beast's neck. The sword was staked into the ground through a patch of black fur. Dark blood spotted the earth around the end of the blade.
Youko could not move from where she had fallen, but, then, neither could her foe. The two of them lay not more than a yard apart. They each raised their heads and guardedly examined the other's predicament.
Youko's sword was pinned to the earth. Her opponent exhaled foamy blood.
They exchanged brief glances. Youko moved first. She grasped the hilt of the sword with enfeebled hands, and, with the buried end supporting her weight, pulled herself to her feet.
A moment later her opponent roused itself and almost immediately collapsed.
Somehow she managed to pull the blade out of the ground. It was an anchor on her arm. She closed the distance between them, sank to her knees, and with both hands brought the sword down.
Her foe lifted its head and howled, gushing foamy blood. Its paws clawed weakly at the ground. It could not right itself. Holding the sword up with both arms, she aimed for the beast's neck, letting the weight of the sword by itself do the damage. The blade, shiny with blood and fat, sank into the fur. The beast's claws sprang out, its limbs convulsed.
It spewed more frothy blood, almost seemed to mutter something to itself.
With every ounce of strength she had left, she raised the heavy sword and let it fall. This time the beast did not even twitch.
The sword had embedded itself halfway through the creature's neck. Youko let go of the hilt, rolled over on her back. Clouds hung low against the dome of the sky.
After lying there for a while staring up at the sky, she gulped air and screamed. There was a burning pain in her side. Every breath tore at her throat. She could feel nothing in her extremities, as if her arms and feet had been amputated.
She was grasping the jewel but could not even move her fingertips. Suppressing a sense of dizziness that verged on seasickness she watched the clouds roll by. A part of the sky was stained a faint madder red.
She was suddenly overcome by the urge to vomit. She turned her head to the side and threw up. The corrosive-smelling bile ran down her cheek. She took a breath but couldn't breathe. She gagged and choked, instinctively turned over and coughed violently.
I'm still alive. Somehow she was alive. As the hacking coughs wracked her body, this was the thought that turned over and over in her mind. When she at last brought her breathing under control, she heard a faint sound, the sound of footsteps.
Oh God! Were her enemies still around? She lifted her head. Her vision spun, blackness closed in. Her head dropped back to the earth.