The moon hung low, swollen and golden, casting the shrine in a dreamlike hush. Even the river held its breath. Chimes barely moved. The lavender fields swayed in slow circles, as if they too were whispering goodbye.
Yuzume sat beside Riku on the veranda, wrapped in the soft folds of her robe, her head tilted slightly against one of the wooden beams. Her tail had lost its usual glow, flickering faintly like a firefly too tired to shine. But her expression was peaceful, even content, in a way that made Riku uneasy.
He offered her a piece of peach with a quiet hand.
She took it, chewed slowly, then gave him a sideways glance."You've gotten better at slicing them."
"I've had a strict teacher," he said, nudging her with his shoulder.
"I didn't teach you anything."
"You yelled at me a lot and called me names."
"That's education."
They both laughed, but her laughter ended sooner than his.
The silence that followed wasn't heavy. Just full. Like something was beginning to settle in the spaces between them.
Riku watched her tail curl softly around her legs, the dim light of it reflecting in her hair."You've been dim lately," he said gently.
"I know," she replied, without looking at him.
"And the veil... it's clearer."
"I know that too."
He wanted to ask more, to say something comforting, something to stop this moment from slipping toward the inevitable. But she reached out and placed her hand over his. Her fingers were colder than usual.
"I've known for a while now," she said softly. "That I couldn't stay here forever. The veil was never meant to hold me this long. Spirits don't belong in the world of the living. I just... didn't realize how hard it would be to let go."
"Do you have to?" he asked, voice thin.
She smiled faintly."The shrine has always guided what stays and what passes. Even me. I was only ever a flicker, caught in its light."
Riku shook his head."You were more than that. You are."
Yuzume turned her eyes to him."I used to think my job was to care for the shrine. For the spirits. For Master's memory. But then you came along, with your terrible eggs and your too-hot tea, and I started caring about something... someone else."
He chuckled weakly."Still better tea than yours."
"Hah!" Her grin broke through the sadness for a moment."You wish. Mine was legendary."
"For putting people to sleep."
"Sleep is good for your spirit!"
Their laughter warmed the veranda again, even if only briefly.
Yuzume leaned back, letting her head rest lightly on his shoulder."Do you remember," she said slowly, "when you asked me why Master never used the name he gave me?"
"Yeah."
"He said it was a name meant to bloom. I never understood it. Not really. Until now."
She sat up and looked at him."You helped me bloom, Riku. You made my name feel... like mine."
He stared at her, throat tight, chest aching."Yuzume."
She gave a soft, teary smile."Still a silly name."
They stood in silence then. The veil at the center of the shrine glowed brighter than it ever had, silver and blue and impossibly soft.
"I'll take care of it all," Riku said, his voice trembling. "The lanterns. The prayers. The chimes. Everything."
"Even the peach tree?"
"Even your ridiculous tea."
"And the river?"
"I'll scold it every time it floods."
Her smile widened."Thank you."
Then, without needing words, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder. She was warm, even as her form began to hum faintly with light.
"I'm not ready," he whispered.
"I wasn't either," she replied. "But I think the best things never wait for when we're ready."
They stood there, holding each other beneath the full moon, while the lavender bent toward the earth in quiet tribute.
Then Yuzume pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. Her hand rose slowly, gently, and she pressed her forehead against his.
Their breaths mingled.
Their eyes closed.
A pause. A stillness. A goodbye spoken without words.
When she stepped away, she glowed from within. Her form slowly unraveled into pale ribbons of light, like morning mist curling away into the sky.
And then she was gone.
Only the scent of lavender remained, drifting through the air as the veil shimmered once... and faded.
Riku stood alone on the veranda, watching the place she had been.
His hands were empty.
But his heart was full.