Eventually, she picked her head up, just enough to look at me. Her face was close—closer than it had ever been without that teasing smirk, without the usual predator's mask she wore like armor.
"For the first time in a long time," she murmured, "I think I actually feel a little warm."
She let her head rest on my shoulder again, just for a second, like she was afraid to admit she needed it. Then, quietly, like it was some kind of confession, she added, "I know it's not really me, though. I'm just stealing your warmth."
She breathed in, just so she could sigh. It was a sigh that carried the weight of too much time, too many regrets. "Sorry about that," she said.
I squeezed her a little tighter, ignoring how dry her skin felt, how unnaturally cold she was. She felt like food that's been left out overnight, like the warmth and comfort had long since abandoned her.
But I didn't care.
It was still Shion.
I shifted, just enough to meet her waterless green eyes. "I need you," I told her. "I need your help."
Her eyes met mine, still weary, but she was listening.
"How would you like revenge on that tall, lanky piece of crap for the bag of rice yesterday?"
There. A flash of recognition in her eyes.
And then anger.
And just like that, something flickered back to life in her expression. Not all the way, not yet. But enough.
She pushed herself away from my shoulder and sat up. "What's going on, Ryu?"
I felt a smirk growing on my own face this time, and I leaned forward to tell her my plan.
I saw Yuki waiting for me just outside Shion's doorway as I crawled out from under the old wooden desk. She hovered a little closer, arms folded, concern plain on her face.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft.
I let out a slow breath and gave her a small smile. Not a happy one, but enough to let her know I was alright.
Then Shion followed behind me, moving with her usual fluid grace, but there was something different in her posture—something just a little heavier. Yuki's expression shifted, her worry transferring from me to her.
"Ryu, can you please give me a second alone with Shion?" she asked.
I blinked, thrown off by the request. Yuki and Shion didn't exactly have the warmest relationship. In fact, most of their interactions so far had been laced with sarcasm, thinly veiled insults, or outright skepticism spiked with hostility.
Before I could even ask why, I heard Shion take a breath.
"No, that's fine, actually," she said. She turned to me, her voice steadier than I expected. "Get to your last class, Ryu." Then she glanced at Yuki. "I wouldn't mind talking to her."
My mouth nearly dropped open.
Yuki actually smiled at me—an honest, reassuring smile. "It'll be fine. I promise," she whispered. Then, drifting just a little closer, she added, "She needs me right now."
I didn't argue.
I made it to Kurogane-sensei's class just in time. I could feel the full weight of her steel eyes on my shoulders every step of the way to my seat beside Azuki.
"You were almost late," she whispered very seriously.
Kurogane-sensei stood at the front of the room beside her ordinary teacher's desk. One hand rested on the corner, the other held her cane with an iron grip.
"Today, I want to teach you about where we came from," she said.
Azuki raised her hand. "Do you mean yokai?" she asked.
Kurogane-sensei shook her head. "No. I mean all of us. Humans and yokai. All of us."
She lifted her cane and made a circle in the air.
"At the very beginning of everything, oh, they call it that, but the truth is that time didn't exist yet because everything was a wholeness. There was no division. No separation. All was one."
"Until all are one," repeated the class.
Even Azuki said it.
I felt like I was a guest at their church. Kurogane-sensei continued.
"And so it existed this way for who knows how long. In the dark. Never forget that we existed as one in the dark. For when light was created, the light created division."
She stopped making a circle and brought her cane down, slicing the circle she'd been making.
"The light brought discrepancy, for without the light, who could say that they were in darkness to begin with. This was the state of affairs that brought about Izanagi and Izanami, the gods who created the islands of Japan."
"Here, they built their home. In time, they desired children, so they performed a sacred marriage ritual, walking in opposite directions around a pillar and meeting in the middle."
Here she made a circle again, with her cane.
"And so Izanami gave birth to the land, the sea, the sky. But when she gave birth to Kagutsuchi, the god of fire, the flames burned her. Remember well my lesson of weakness, for even a goddess could not withstand such pain, and she died."
She split the circle with her cane, once more.
"Izanagi, grief-stricken, could not accept her death. He journeyed into the underworld, seeking to bring her back. But when he found her in the darkness, she had already eaten the food of the dead and could not return. Izanagi, overcome with grief, lit a torch and gazed upon his corpse-wife."
Suddenly, Kurogane-sensei's gaze landed on me once more.
"And he saw that his once beautiful wife was now a rotting corpse," she said, and then she looked away.
"Izanagi fled in terror, pursued by Izanami herself. At last, he reached the entrance of the underworld and rolled a massive boulder over it, sealing it away. From the darkness, his wife cursed him, claiming that every day, she would take a thousand souls for the underworld. And so Izanagi boasted that life would birth fifteen hundred every day,"
She brought her cane down on the floor, hard.
"Now, your assignment is this: tell me in this story, who are the humans and who are the yokai?"
Azuki raised her hand. "Oh! Oh! I think I get it, Kurogane-sensei! Us, yokai, we're like Izanami, right? We're the children in the underworld since we have to exist in the shadows. I bet that's it!"
Kurogane-sensei smiled, but she shook her head no. "I understand why you would think that, but that's not the lesson of the story."
No one raised their hand.
Like any experienced teacher, Kurogane-sensei didn't rush her students, nor did she fill the awkward silence. She let it linger as the tension in the classroom steadily rose.
Finally, I raised my hand. "Kurogane-sensei, are the yokai Izanagi?" I asked.
She shook her head again. "No, Kazeyama-san. You're all missing the bigger picture. Remember the beginning of the story."
She made a circle with her cane. Finally, one girl in the back of the classroom rose her hand.
"Kurogane-sensei, we're one, aren't we?"
She nodded, and the class repeated together, "Until all are one."
"Yes, that's correct. At the very beginning of the story, I said that we all existed as one in the darkness. Remember that. The idea that humans and yokai, light and shadow, day and night are separate is an illusion. Day. Night. Bah. Who cares where the sun is? What does that matter, huh? It's all the same with or without it."
"Remember the oni who got a face full of salt for thinking he was so high and mighty? Do you think I believe that it was me who defeated him? Am I that much of a slave to my ego I have to pat myself on the back for throwing salt in someone's face?"
"The truth is that I did nothing. That oni set himself up for the universe to throw salt in his face the moment he thought he was better than anyone. And it'll do the same thing to you too, mark my word."
The bell rang, but no one moved an inch until Kurogane-sensei dismissed us.
But I didn't leave.
Azuki needed my help, and I knew exactly who could help both of us.