Kiyomasa was the village chief’s only son, born when the chief was already getting on in years. As the future chief, Kiyomasa had a proper education, but his skill with the sword was lacking. For that reason, he was not appointed a demon hunter, despite his status as a shrine maiden guardian. At best, he was tasked with guarding the shrine when Jinta was away from Kadono or otherwise indisposed. It was questionable whether he should have been a shrine maiden guardian at all. Many agreed his position was only thanks to his father’s doting nature, though none ever expressed such thoughts to the village chief openly.
“What do you mean to say?” Jinta said, glaring. Kiyomasa seemed unfazed and kept up his snide attitude. They were colleagues, but in no way did they get along. Ever since Kiyomasa became shrine maiden guardian, he’d been antagonistic to Jinta, and Jinta didn’t bother hiding his lack of respect for someone who rode his father’s coattails.
“Don’t act like you don’t understand. I’m saying the only thing you’re good for is swinging that sword around,” Kiyomasa said cynically.
Jinta didn’t bother arguing—or he couldn’t, rather. Kiyomasa’s insult was precisely how Jinta felt about himself. He understood full well that his only worth was in killing. So he let Kiyomasa’s words slide, saying, “You’re right. All the more reason to swing it for the princess’s sake.”
“…Tsk, you’re no fun,” Kiyomasa said, clicking his tongue. His brows furrowed, irked that his provocation had gone unmet. Jinta hid it well, but he was put off by Kiyomasa’s behavior. A hostile silence ensued, making everyone uncomfortable.
“Is it wise to quarrel before the Goddess?” Byakuya’s soft reprimand broke the silence. “Jinta, Kiyomasa, a shrine maiden guardian exists not only to protect me but the villagers as well. If you two fight, then the villagers will grow anxious.”
“…It is as you say. Forgive me,” Jinta said, lowering his head. The silhouette beyond the bamboo screen moved a bit, likely pleased with his straightforward response,
“And you as well, Kiyomasa,” she said.
“Huh, you want me to apologize too?” the young man said.
“Of course. You are a shrine maiden guardian as well.”
“I mean, c’mon, you know that’s in name only… It’s not like I do anything but guard you,” he grumbled.
A small sigh escaped Byakuya, exasperated with his rudeness. “You never change.”
“Yeah, and don’t expect me to. I don’t change how I talk for anyone.”
“I’m well aware. But your needless comments are what began this quarrel. From now on, plea—”
“Yeah, yeah, watch what I say, I got it,” he said, cutting her off.
As the son of the village chief, few could rebuke Kiyomasa for his behavior. Still, Byakuya wasn’t bothered by his attitude. If anything, she found it enjoyable. Her stiff voice had softened up at some point. Jinta felt a faint ache watching their exchange. They clearly had some kind of closeness, but perhaps that was to be expected, with Kiyomasa being a shrine maiden guardian and all. Still, the ache remained.
“Kiyomasa should really be punished for speaking out of turn, but I have nothing to say if the princess is willing to overlook things,” the village chief said. He was typically as strict as they came but turned soft when it came to his son. Instead of rebuking Kiyomasa as he should, he smiled gently, as though he found his son’s antics charming. But soon he stiffened and gave the men a serious look. “It seems we’re settled for today. Jinta, stay here and protect the princess. Everyone else, return to your posts.”
Everyone obeyed, bowing to Byakuya and leaving the shrine. Kiyomasa stopped and glared at Jinta for a moment but left without saying anything. Only Jinta remained on his side of the bamboo screen.
“Are you alone now?” Byakuya asked. With the shrine now quiet again, her voice carried well.
“Yes. Everyone has taken their leave but me,” Jinta answered.
A soft sound came from behind the bamboo screen. Jinta looked at her silhouette and saw that she had stood up. She appeared to look around, checking her surroundings before pressing a hand against the bamboo screen. “It should be all right to come out then, yeah?” she said as she came fully into view.
Beautiful black hair streamed down to her waist. Youthful, slightly droopy eyes peered out from a slender face. Her skin was pale white, perhaps because she hadn’t left the shrine in so long, and her thin body resembled porcelain with its fragility. She wore the red hakama of a shrine maiden with a white haori over it, and gold trinkets adorned her body. Slowly, she walked towards Jinta.
“Princess?” he said, to no response. Before he could ask what she wanted, she stopped before him, bent down, and pinched his cheeks.
“Mh, pwincess?” he questioned in a voice one would never expect from a swordsman who’d sent so many demons to their graves. But he couldn’t defy Itsukihime, the one he was bound to protect, so he allowed her to pinch and stretch his cheeks.
After playing around for a few moments, she gave one last good tug before releasing him. “I can’t believe I have to say this every time, but you can drop the formalities already, you know?” she said. The pure, sacred shrine maiden was gone, replaced by an ordinary young girl.
“But…we have our positions to consider,” he said, hesitantly. “And I don’t think that behavior was very becoming of you just now, Princess. Er, I mean in terms of being a lady, not a shrine maiden.”
“There you go with that ‘Princess’ stuff again. How many times do I gotta tell you to address me like you used to when we’re alone?”
“But…”
Though Itsukihime was no longer thought of as the Goddess herself, as she had been in the past, not even the likes of a shrine maiden guardian could be discourteous to her.
Even so, she continued to insist. “…Look, I get why you’re so reluctant. But it should be fine when we’re alone. C’mon… You’re the only one who’ll still use that name for me anymore.”
He was about to protest further but stopped when he saw the look on her face. She smiled, but her eyes betrayed a deep loneliness within. It was a loneliness he had seen before, which was why he understood he couldn’t deal with it as a shrine maiden guardian. “Shirayuki,” he said, using the old name of his childhood friend.
She froze for a moment, but as the word sank in, she broke into a smile.
“I’m sorry, Shirayuki. I shouldn’t have been so obstinate,” he said.
“No, I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
His voice was still monotone and dispassionate, but she allowed it. Over time, his way of speaking had grown formal and stiff. But the one thing that didn’t change was how he always caved to her selfish whims. Happily, she closed her eyes and basked in the nostalgia.
“Say it again.”
“Shirayuki.”
“…Ah.”
Their meaningless exchange of words lightened the atmosphere. Her earlier sadness faded, replaced by a smile tinged with something close to homesickness.
It was hard to believe thirteen years had passed. Jinta had left Edo with his sister when he was five. The two then met Motoharu, the previous shrine maiden guardian, who gave them a place to stay in his own home in Kadono. Jinta met Shirayuki—Motoharu’s daughter—during that time, and the two had been practically inseparable ever since, even living under the same roof.
But eight years ago, Yokaze, the previous shrine maiden, lost her life, and Shirayuki, Yokaze’s daughter, became the next Itsukihime and took on a new name, as was tradition for those who looked after the sacred sword Yarai. The carefree Shirayuki became Byakuya4 and devoted herself to praying for Kadono’s prosperity as Itsukihime.
“I’m so pathetic,” she said. “Even though I made my choice and became Itsukihime, I still depend on you like this.”
“What’s wrong with that? I’m your shrine maiden guardian. It’s my job to be depended on.”
“…Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thank you.” Her bashful look reminded Jinta of her younger self. Shirayuki had become Itsukihime, but the girl she once was hadn’t disappeared completely. That was why she wanted him to treat her as he once had when they were alone. Talking to an old friend was one of the few ways she could let loose now that she was cut off from the earthly world.
“Well done slaying that demon, by the way. I’m sorry we’re always pushing everything onto you,” she said.
“Not at all. A demon of that level is nothing. Besides…” he trailed off.
“Hm?”
“No, it’s nothing.” Out of embarrassment, he stopped himself from saying, I became a shrine maiden guardian to protect you, anyway.
But even though he didn’t say it, his feelings were crystal clear. “Jeez, Jinta. You want your big sister to dote on you that badly?” she said, making no effort to hide her beaming smile as she tousled his hair.
“Oh, please. How are you supposed to be my big sister when I’m older than you? And quit rubbing my head.”
“What do you mean? We’re only a year apart, and I’m more dependable than you. That makes me your big sister!”
“Dependable, huh? Who was the one who kept insisting she’d become a shrine maiden guardian to their father again? And the one who almost drowned in the river trying to catch a fish? Don’t even get me started on that time you went exploring in the Irazu Forest with Suzune, got lost, and cried. You sure are dependable.”
“Why do you gotta remember only the bad stuff…?”
“That’s all you’ve given me to work with,” he joked.
Jinta smiled nostalgically as he reflected on the past. Without a doubt they had been happy then, back before they were bound by their positions. Not to say that the present was without joy, but he sometimes had to wonder: If the days of their youth had continued uninterrupted, where would they be today? For a moment, he imagined what could have been, but then realized it was meaningless and stopped himself short. It was Shirayuki’s own decision to become Itsukihime, and Jinta had chosen to respect that by becoming a shrine maiden guardian. To entertain what-ifs would be to spit on both their choices. There was no point in speculating about what could have been.
“Oh yeah, Suzu-chan’s here,” Byakuya said. Her words pulled Jinta back to reality, but it took a moment for him to process what she’d said as she turned and walked back to the bamboo screen.