Five days had passed since that night. The wound on her leg no longer ached. The medicinal herbs from the hermitage had done their work well—walking no longer caused her pain. She was eating three meals a day properly, and she continued pulling weeds in the garden. By all physical measures, Touka's recovery was progressing smoothly. But the nights terrified her. Every time darkness fell, she felt herself returning to that room. Dark and cramped, the walls slowly contracting inward, that barrier closing in around her. ＊ On the fifth night, Touka jolted awake with a scream. She kicked off her bedding and pulled her knees to her chest. Her shoulders heaved violently. Sweat traced down the nape of her neck. The images from her dream still clung to the inside of her eyelids. The training room floor. The cold sensation of stone. Her fingers trembling as she formed the seal, the shape collapsing in that instant—the four corners of the room blazed with light. The walls drew closer. The ceiling lowered. There was nowhere left to run. It was the same dream every time. Five nights in a row, trapped in the same place each evening. Beyond the paper door, she sensed a presence. The moment Touka realized her own voice had been audible, heat flooded her face. She pulled the bedding close and bowed deeply toward Yozora, who had entered. "[sad]I'm sorry. I've been making noise again" Yozora said nothing. After standing there for a moment, she walked toward the kitchen. Soon she returned, carrying a small bowl. It was hot water. As Touka accepted the bowl, a gentle warmth spread across her palm. She tilted her head slightly. "[gentle]Hot water... is it? Not tea" "[serious]The medicinal herbs and storage space overlap. Make do with it" The answer was so matter-of-fact that Touka nearly laughed aloud. She hadn't meant to laugh, but the corner of her mouth twitched. Yozora didn't move a single eyebrow, leaning her back against the wall instead. Watching her profile, Touka took a sip of the hot water. Not tea, not anything special—just plain hot water. Yet somehow, tonight, that was enough. ＊ Morning came. Dawn arrived late on Mikagura Mountain. The dense trees delayed the sunlight's arrival. Still, when the birds began to sing, the entire hermitage slowly awakened. Yozora settled onto the veranda and had Touka sit beside her. Beyond the garden, mist drifted thinly, and only the tips of the cedar trees dissolved into the haze. "[serious]Tell me what the dream was about" It wasn't a command, Touka thought. But it wasn't "you can tell me if you want" either. It was more like "I'll listen"—that kind of phrasing. Different from the old man's tone. Not demanding something, but creating a space for it. Touka remained silent for a while. She didn't quite know how to speak to someone about such things. Everything she'd ever shared before was either a training report or an explanation for failure. She had no memory of ever conveying what she actually felt to anyone. But her mouth moved. "[sad]...I'm woken up at five every morning, and training begins. I form seals, channel my spiritual energy, and repeat it for hours. If I do well, the next task comes. If I don't..." She paused, holding her breath. "[sad]If I don't, the barrier in the room activates. The walls get closer—do you understand that feeling? Light comes from all four sides, the space keeps shrinking, and I have to stay inside until they let me out" Yozora said nothing. She simply listened. In that silence, Touka found she could continue. "[sad]When I said I was tired, my grandmother told me not to waste my talent. I'd never been outside even once. Always just in that mansion. So for fifteen years, I didn't know what the outside world smelled like, what color the sky was—I didn't know any of it" As she spoke this far, her voice began to shake. "When I try to remember my father... my mother... my head hurts like it's splitting open. I've never understood why" The moment those words left her mouth, tears spilled over. She couldn't stop them. They fell in drops onto her lap. She'd thought it shameful to cry aloud, but her body moved before that thought could hold her back. Yozora didn't interrupt while Touka wept. She heard it all in silence. Eventually, Yozora slowly opened her mouth. "[gentle]You're not wrong" Her voice was quiet. But it was clear. "[gentle]Talent isn't a tool. That you were made into one isn't your fault. Reclaiming yourself comes first" Touka heard those words through her tears. Not wrong. No one had ever told her that before. Not her grandfather, not her grandmother—never once. There was always something lacking. There was always the next task. She'd been told again and again that because she had talent, she should be able to do more. So she didn't know how to respond. She didn't know how to accept it. She simply continued crying. Her voice rose, and she wept helplessly. Yozora gently drew Touka close. Not quite an embrace, but rather a quiet presence beside her. Touka's head rested against Yozora's shoulder. Long black hair, reaching to her waist, brushed softly against Touka's cheek. ＊ When Touka's sobs began to subside, Yozora slowly moved her hand. "[gentle]I'm just going to ease it a little. Stay still" Yozora's hand pressed against Touka's back. It moved slowly, gently stroking. At first it seemed like a gesture to help her relax. But Yozora's silver-white eyes narrowed slightly. She was tracing the flow of spiritual energy within Touka's body. Using a method of perception unique to the Kagari—different from an onmyoji's techniques—reading the currents like one reads the flow of the earth itself, following the movement of spiritual energy within her. At first, she'd simply tried to straighten the disrupted spiritual pathways. She'd intended to calm the flow that had been thrown into chaos by flight and exhaustion. But as she probed deeper, Yozora's hand stilled almost imperceptibly. The curse wasn't only in the mark on her arm. In the deepest parts of the spiritual pathways—in the currents that moved emotion—curse threads were tangled. More than that. They were rigged so that whenever certain emotions began to stir, those threads would pull tight. Memories of her parents, feelings toward her parents—whenever such things tried to surface, the curse would react and cause pain. This wasn't a restraint meant to exploit her talent. This was a curse deliberately crafted, aimed precisely at one thing: so that Touka could not think of her parents. Could not remember them. Curse work designed with intent. (Who... would create a curse this elaborate...) Yozora's expression didn't change. She thought only inwardly, so Touka wouldn't notice. ＊ "[serious]I'm going to try something. It might hurt a little" Without removing her hand from Touka's back, Yozora quietly formed a seal. The Kagari's spiritual pathway techniques ran deeper than those of onmyoji. With the power to directly move the spiritual energy of the mountain, it should have been possible to peel away even the shallow end of the curse— In that instant, the curse recoiled. With a sharp sensation, Yozora's hand was violently repelled. Her back struck the veranda pillar. The wood creaked. Touka's entire body trembled. The mark on her arm glowed a pale blue, and a short, sharp cry escaped her. "[scared]Yozora!" Touka sprang to her feet. Yozora pushed off from the pillar and slowly stood. Her expression hadn't changed. But the tips of her right hand's fingers trembled faintly. "[serious]I'm fine. Are you hurt anywhere" "I'm okay... but it didn't work, did it" Her voice was small. Yozora paused for a moment. "[serious]Not right away. But there's definitely a way" It wasn't a lie. But she didn't have certainty either. Yozora knew this, and she chose those words anyway. She couldn't give Touka "I don't know" tonight. Touka stared at Yozora's face for a while. Then she slowly nodded. "[gentle]...Yes" "[serious]Rest now. If you have nightmares, wake me" Yozora returned Touka to the guest room. ＊ After Touka's breathing had settled into sleep, Yozora stepped outside the hermitage. The night air was cold. Mist drifted faintly, and the outlines of the cedar trees blurred softly. The moon hung in the sky—a crescent shape floating above the ridge line of Mikagura Mountain. Yozora gazed up at it, turning over in her palm the sensation from moments before. The force with which the curse had repelled her. It wasn't the simple recoil of a binding spell. The curse had actively pushed back to protect its own structure. If it were merely meant to exploit talent, such a defensive mechanism wouldn't be necessary. But if it were meant to seal away specific emotions—to ensure Touka couldn't approach her parents, couldn't remember them, to completely sever that connection—then it would resist dissolution with all its strength. "[whispers]This curse... it's not just a restraint..." The low voice dissolved into the night air. From the guest room, Touka's quiet breathing could be heard. Tonight, at least, she wasn't having nightmares. That much was something, Yozora thought. But when her eyes turned toward the southern edge of the mountain, Yozora's silver-white gaze grew quietly sharp. Beyond the mist, more points of light than the night before swayed and flickered. Remnants of spirit servants. Formless, yet unmistakably present—a tangible sense. They crawled slowly along the mountain's edge. The search efforts of her grandparents were advancing steadily, drawing closer to Mikagura Mountain with each passing night. The mystery of the curse remained unsolved. And the presence at the mountain's southern edge was growing undeniably stronger. Yozora turned her gaze from the moon and stared intently into the mist beyond.