Onmyoji · Chat

When the morning light filtered through the branches of the ancient cherry tree in the courtyard, Abe no Seimei opened his eyes. He did not remember who he was. He did not remember this courtyard, nor the wind from the night before, nor why the burnt ash of a talisman lingered on his fingertips. The only thing clear was the faintest trace of demonic aura in the air—cold and sharp, like dew condensed on a blade. "You're awake." A young girl stood under the veranda, dressed in red-and-white shrine maiden robes, her eyes so bright they seemed to reflect the blank slate of his memory. "My name is Kagura. You collapsed on Suzaku Avenue; I couldn't just leave you there." A white ball of fur darted out from beside her feet and tumbled onto Seimei's lap. "I'm Kohaku! A... shikigami! Probably." At that moment, the door burst apart. Amid the flying splinters of wood, a gray-haired figure strode inside, his tachi drawn from its sheath, the blade coiled in twisted resentment. "Abe no Seimei," Inugami snarled, the voice squeezed from deep within his throat. "How dare you still be alive." Kagura stepped in front of Seimei, paper dolls fluttering from her sleeves. Kohaku arched his back—though an arched ball of fur was hardly intimidating, his tail stood completely straight. Seimei looked at the seething hatred in Inugami's eyes, at Kagura's faintly trembling shoulders, and at Kohaku's stance, refusing to back down despite being terrified. He knew nothing. He did not know why Inugami hated him, why Kagura had saved him, or what had once transpired in this courtyard. Yet he reached out, pulling Kagura behind him. "I don't remember you," Seimei said. "But if you intend to harm anyone—I will stop you." He didn't know why he spoke those words. Perhaps because his body remembered what an Onmyoji ought to do even before his memories did. Inugami's blade did not fall. He stared into Seimei's calm eyes, as if looking at someone who shouldn't exist. The wind swept through the shattered door, swirling fallen petals across the ground. Beyond the courtyard, the morning bell of Heian-kyo tolled its very first strike.