Blind Faith

Kokona didn't know why she was still standing there. Just how long had it been since the storm had passed?

At the top of a hilly ridge, a building stood in ruin. Once, it was a temple, a home, a sanctum. Now, it was nothing. Wooden walls had been dashed into twigs and splinters, stone columns had been toppled over, rooms caved in on themselves, and possessions had been scattered across the countryside.

A female figure stood before the defiled remains of her home, her former sanctuary. She shivered and slipped her hands into the sleeves of her blue kimono, which did little to protect her from the elements. Blonde hair cascaded down to her shoulders, frazzled and messy. A pair of fox ears jutted out from the top of her head, gloomily drooping. Eight fluffy, tan-colored tails slipped through a hole in the back of her kimono, hanging limp and lifeless. The tips of the lower ones drifted across the puddles and mud, becoming wet and filthy.

Kokona had been standing at the collapsed entrance to her shrine for hours, motionless. She blinked for the thousandth time, unable and unwilling to look away. Sighing, she finally turned away and approached a damp boulder that overlooked the valley beneath the ridge. She used her tails to swat away most of the water, and sat down, taking in the sight beneath her. The abandoned village beneath her shared the same fate as her shrine, being torn to shreds by the raging storm. Only a scant few houses escaped total destruction, but even those had their roofs ripped off and their insides flooded.

The typhoon had been ferocious beyond measure, a physical manifestation of nature's wrath. A storm reaching this far inland was a once-in-a-millennium disaster, and yet Zipangu's most southern island had been fortunate enough that the storm had broken after ravaging only a single, abandoned village. Kokona sighed again, her breath leaving condensation in the chilly morning air.

Should this really be called a disaster?

In truth, this storm may have been for the best. Kohuni village had been dead long before the storm had arrived, its former occupants having moved to larger cities or having died of old age. Kokona had lived here alone for nearly a year, pretending to busy herself with meditation and prayer, but these were all mere distractions from truths that she refused to acknowledge. Now, seeing the corpse of her once prosperous village, she swallowed, having no choice but to face what she had been trying to ignore.

"It's gone," she muttered. "It's really all gone."

No one came bearing offerings for her, no one asked for her guidance or her blessings, because there was simply no one left. Even now, no one had come to see if she had survived the storm, because she had been forgotten.

Perhaps this storm was meant to be an awakening, a sign of disapproval from the gods meant to shake her from her stupor. With her home destroyed and the town below now truly gone, there was no longer any excuse she could use to anchor herself here.

It was time to leave.

Kokona stood up, dusted herself off, and began to tread down the path into the valley. From there, she would follow the old, faded roads that led elsewhere. She had no destination, her mind too awash with apathy to care where she ended up. So she just...walked. She shuffled along in slow steps along the decrepit path out of the village, head hung low. Her tails left marks in the mud and dirt as they dragged along the ground, making serpentine patterns that would soon be washed away.

She lost her sense of time. She walked until the grey blanket blocking the sun became patchy, allowing rays of sunlight to break through. She walked until her feet began to ache, unaccustomed to such extensive use after decades of relative inactivity. She walked until the the wind began to blow again, heralding a new set of dark clouds across the horizon, which promised not a devastating storm but dull, unending rain.

Kokona did not care. She just kept moving, even when the wind blew her hair into her face, flicking drops of water off the grass and into her tails. She welcomed the rising pain in her feet, for it was the strongest reminder that she was still alive. Eventually, even that realization began to fade, and she kept walking in complete silence, not even allowing her mind to wander. She just continued treading down the path, assuming an almost zombie-like state, her conscious mind unaware of her surroundings.

Kokona did not care, and she just kept moving.

********************

Eventually, after many hours of walking and not encountering a single soul, Kokona's sense trickled back into her, coaxed by the unfamiliar sounds of a new environment. The first drops of the new rain were beginning to fall, but they had yet to erase the sounds of city life. Glancing at her surroundings, she saw men dashing around, eager to make it home from work before the rain worsened. A raiju mother peered out from her home's doorway, beckoning her kits home with a stern voice. An oni blacksmith continued to hammer away at a red-hot ingot, her outside workspace covered from the rain by a sturdy overhang. She spared a glance at the mud-covered Inari walking past her shop, her brow raising when she saw the number of tails, then she turned her attention back to her work.

At that moment, the heavens opened, the gods finally commanding the rainclouds to begin their deluge in earnest. She shivered as the cold rain bombarded her, the water quickly seeping through her clothing and onto her skin. It would have been easy to protect herself with her power, to form a barrier that would block the rain and keep her dry. But she just...couldn't. She couldn't motivate herself to lift her head, let alone cast magic. So she held her arms close to her body as she shivered, and she continued shambling down the street.

No one paid her any attention anymore, which she was fine with. She didn't want their looks of pity, their unspoken assumptions when they counted her tails.

She kept moving, but her mind began to fill with questions. Why was she still walking? Why wasn't she looking for shelter? Why wasn't she protecting herself with magic? Why had everyone left her village? And why had she felt unable to leave, lingering for so long?

Emotion slipped through. A single, exasperated sob escaped her mouth, stopping her in her tracks. Tears began to well up behind her emerald-green eyes. She turned her gaze upwards for the first time in hours, facing the rain.

"Where did I go wrong?" she croaked, not expecting an answer. Her voice was quiet, and was swallowed entirely by the rain. The heavens replied with a deep rumbling, as thunder sounded high above.

The skies held no answers for her.

"You there, miss!" a male voice cried, having to shout over the rain.

Kokona turned her head in the direction of the voice. Surely, whoever it belonged to couldn't have been talking to her.

"Do you lack shelter?" the voice asked. Finally identifying the source, Kokona saw a man waving at her from the side of the road. He was protected from the rain by an overhang above his head, one of many along a great row of houses.

Kokona blinked. She glanced around, but saw no one else. He really was talking to her.

"You're going to freeze to death if you stand around in a downpour like that!" he shouted, beckoning her to come towards him. "I'd be happy to offer you shelter!"

"I, I don't..." Kokona's voice croaked again. She shook her head as she realized that there was no way that he heard her. So, she swallowed her anxiety down, locking it away for a time, and approached the man. As she stepped under the overhang and out of the rain, she realized just how wet and cold she was.

"W-were you talking to m-me?" she asked, shivering.

"Of course," he frowned. "Was there anyone else around? But listen to you, your teeth are starting to chatter! Come on, we need to get you warmed up at once!"

Not waiting for an answer, he pivoted to his side and opened the door of his house. He held it open, turning back to look at her and gesturing her forward. Kokona stepped forward and crossed over the threshold of his home, hurrying inside. Feeling the warmer air inside, she was starting to regret her decision to not protect herself from the rain. Her host followed after her and closed the door. Kokona glanced around, taking in the man's home. It was decorated very sparsely, with almost no furniture, and everything seemed to have been arranged in a very orderly and deliberate manner.

But what immediately caught her attention was the warm glow of a lit fireplace. She hurried over and crouched down, taking in the heat.

"Go and warm yourself by the fire," her host instructed. Turning back to look at him, Kokona saw him holding out his right hand, dragging his palm and fingertips along the wooden wall of his home as he walked with measured steps.

"I'll go and bring you a warm blanket," he continued. "And take off your clothes, or you aren't going to warm up."

"I-" Kokona started, unsure what she was planning to say.

"This is no time for modesty," the man said sternly, cutting her off. Using his hand to guide himself, he reached the corner of the wall. He gripped it tightly, pivoting around the corner. "Don't put your health in jeopardy. Those soaked clothes will make you freeze."

She couldn't bring herself to say anything, and undid her clothing with unsteady hands. She whimpered as she did so, feeling the heat more freely on her naked body. She slid forward even closer to the fireplace, holding out her shaky hands. She tried to wrap her tails around her body and cover her hips and rear, but they were so waterlogged and filthy that she yelped at the sensation, giving up and returning them to their original position.

Footsteps indicated the man's return. Too ashamed to turn her head towards him, she pulled her limbs in as close to her body as possible, inching even closer to the fire. Guilt and shame welled up within her, making it feel like she needed to retch. How could she have been so foolish? Why had she let this happen?

"Here," the man said gently. She felt him crouch down near her right side. Kokona waited, but...nothing happened.

"Ah," the man hummed awkwardly. "You'll need to take the blanket yourself..."

"Geh!" she yelped, unable to form proper vocalizations. She leaned over and took the blanket from him, quickly wrapping herself up in a tight bundle. The shock of suddenly being warm again made her gasp, and she pressed the warm blanket around her as tightly as she could, the force of her grip making her fingertips turn white.

"Th-thank you," she managed to stammer.

"Of course," he said warmly. "Just hold on. You will feel better soon, I promise."

She heard him stand up and begin to walk into another room.

"I will be right back," he explained. "I'll bring you something warm to drink, and something to eat, too."

"Thank you," she repeated, more clearly as her body started to warm up. His kindness soothed her nausea, comforting her like a ray of warm sunlight.

********************

The man returned in a few minutes, carrying a tray of food and drink with him. Crouching down a few feet away from her as he had done before, he placed the tray onto the floor, gesturing for her to partake.

"Go slowly," he advised, moving to sit down in a cross-legged position.

Kokona's hands had stopped shaking, making her feel comfortable enough to try grasping the cup he had poured tea in. She gripped it carefully, so as not to spill anything. She brought the cup to her lips, blew onto the hot liquid, and took a measured sip. The warmth of the beverage seeped into her, and she shivered with delight as her insides took in the beverage. Before she knew it, she had finished the entire cup, her tongue protesting at being subjected to the heat.

"Ahh," she sighed satisfactorily, placing the cup back onto the tray.

"Not bad, eh?" the man chuckled.

"It's good," she affirmed, moving to take a bowl of soup. She tipped the bowl to her lips, and drank. The flavor was foreign to her, but she devoured it eagerly. Every drop that made its way to her stomach filled her with warm gratitude. Goddess, she had never felt so hungry in her life!

"Hah!" she exclaimed, falling into a gentle fit of giggles. "Ha, ahaha...it's so warm! So good!"

"You can have it all," her savior smiled. "Just don't choke, alright?"

"Thank you!" she breathed, louder and more sincere than before. She smiled brilliantly, eyes shining with the simple joy of being warm and fed again. And then...she noticed something odd. Something that, under normal conditions, would have stuck out like a sore thumb.

The man had a strip of cloth wrapped around his head, completely covering his eyes.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, finally realizing. "Are you...?"

"Blind?" the man finished with a grin. "Indeed. I was wondering when you were going to notice."

"I'm sorry," she said, lowering the bowl of soup.

"For what?" the man asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

"For imposing. For...misunderstanding."

She felt so foolish. For wandering around in the pouring rain, for feeling guilty for accepting hospitality, for blushing and attempting to cover herself from a man that could not even see her.

"Now, now," the man chided, rubbing his stubble-covered chin. His calm, patient demeanor reminded Kokona of one of her old teachers, gently scolding one of his students. "I will accept no such apologies, for you have done nothing wrong."

That wasn't true. She had done a lot of things wrong...if she hadn't been a fool, she wouldn't be here now.

"Right," she nodded, putting the thoughts aside. "I'm..." she was about to apologize again, but stopped herself. "Right. Thank you. Truly."

"Wait," Kokona added, coming to a sudden realization. "If you're blind, how did you...?"

"How did I see you?" the man finished. "Well, it's true that my eyes no longer work, but that doesn't mean that I am entirely helpless. I simply sensed your spirit."

"Is that...even possible?" Kokona frowned. "I have never heard of a human having this ability."

"The ability lies dormant in every human, but for those of us who have spent the majority of our lives near yokai, the power is easier to access," the man explained. "I simply rely on it a great deal more than most, so my ability to detect souls is rather keen as a result."

The man hummed in contemplation and continued. "The phenomenon was not well known until the last few decades, but I am surprised that you have not heard of this. Where are you from, Miss...?"

"Kokona," she finished. "And I'm from...well. Nowhere important, now."

"An inari with your power, hailing from nowhere?" he chuckled. "I'll believe that when I hear my neighbor's raiju kits come home the first time their mother calls for them. You must have...six, seven tails?"

"You could discern even that?" she blinked. "Your ability is even stronger than I imagined. And...it's eight."

"That might explain things," he said, nodding wisely. "Do you know why I was able to see your aura so clearly? It wasn't simply your power."

She didn't want to answer that, so she looked away and said nothing.

"It was grief," he said solemnly. "Pain...and great sorrow. You tried to contain them, but they bled through. They stained your colors."

Her jaw dropped. How could he have seen through her so easily?

"My...colors?" she asked, trying to keep the emotion from leaking out of her voice.

"A powerful soul shines brightly," he explained. "A soul filled with joy is like a gleaming rainbow. Misery and pain...are like inky blotches on that rainbow. They block the light that shines out."

Kokona didn't know how to respond to that. This man...just what in the world was this power of his? As a yokai, she too possessed the ability to sense spiritual power, the manifestation of the soul. But what this man described...it wasn't like her own ability. She had never heard of anything quite like it, even among her own mikos. Was her old village truly that isolated? It seemed that her knowledge was obsolete. Just how much had the world at large changed in the last century? She would need some time to think about this, before she could converse further.

"Perhaps humans and yokai perceive these things differently," the man said, sensing her trepidation. "Perhaps that is why this seems so strange to you?"

"Was your mother a spirit medium?" Kokona huffed. "Or perhaps your father was a psychic? It feels as if you're reading my mind."

"If I could read minds, I'd be a very rich man," he chuckled. "No, I'm just good at reading people, such as it is."

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Kaito," he answered. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kokona."

********************

Kaito continued to help Kokona recover through the next hour. He brought her another serving of soup, and a spare robe. It didn't fit her especially well, and the lack of a hole for her tails meant that they had to hang down, pressing against the inside of the robe. Still, it was clean and warm, which was all she could have asked for. Mercifully, Kaito didn't press his guest for any details, and let her eat and warm up in comfortable silence. After that, he brought her a handtowel and a large bowl of warm water, allowing her to clean her tails.

After cleaning herself up a bit, Kokona realized just how tired she felt, letting out a long yawn. She clamped a hand over her mouth, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, which intensified when she remembered how pointless the gesture was. Thankfully, Kaito didn't notice, and told her that she could sleep in his bed - he would be fine using a mat to sleep on the floor in the other room. She tried to protest, of course, but he adamantly refused. As soon as her head touched the pillow, she fell into a deep, comfortable sleep, the most peaceful one she had experienced in a long time.

She awoke the next morning, blinking and yawning. How strange that she actually felt well-rested. When was the last time that had happened? Shrugging off the blankets, she shuffled into the next room, where she heard faint cutting and chopping sounds. Kaito was already awake, preparing meat and vegetables for some kind of breakfast dish.

"Good morning," he greeted, without pausing or looking back.

"Good morning," she returned, stifling a yawn. "How long was I asleep?"

"Almost thirteen hours. You must have been quite exhausted."

"I think I really was," she said humbly. "Thank you again, Kaito. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You are welcome, again," he chuckled. Kokona liked the sound of his laughter - it was pleasant. "Breakfast will be ready in a moment."

Kokona's ears twitched, focusing on some distant sounds.

"It's still raining?" she concluded.

"Indeed. It hasn't stopped pouring since I pulled you in last night."

That...made Kokona pause. Kaito was right, she realized. If she had continued to wander about aimlessly, she really might have paid some dire consequences for it. But...she would have stopped eventually, right?

She shook her head. No, she had been in a dark place, one where she was not thinking clearly. She should focus on the present. Kaito would likely suggest as much.

"I see," she said neutrally. "If it's alright, may I stay and watch you?"

"By all means."

Kokona stood behind Kaito and observed him. With one mistake, he risked cutting himself with the knife, but he moved swiftly and without hesitation. Fascinated, Kokona kept her distance, so as not to disturb him. She felt an urge to ask him about how he learned to cook for himself, but kept quiet. Eventually, he finished the cooking, serving a helping of piping-hot meats and vegetables onto a plate, along with a serving of rice. Kokona's mouth started to water at the sight, and she leaned over the bowl and let the wonderful smell waft upwards.