Yamada made her way back to the Unicorn camp. After hesitating for half a minute in the door way, Yamada enters her yurt.
It looks like it would any other evening, the porcelain stove built up for the night, a few lamps lit, bed freshly made, clothes laundered and folded.
But she was alone. She kept expecting Nakura to pull back the tent flap and greet her, smiling and embaracing her. But he did not come, he would not come, he could not come. He was not there, and yet he was everywhere.
His shamisen, where he had put it in its stand the last night they had had together. His place at the table, where they had sat together, where they had first met, where they had declared for love for each other. The kimono she had given him, deep blue with purple circles. Laundered and folded neat, she shook it out and put it to her face. Traces, small traces of his smell.
She put it on, it had touched him, she felt close to him. Then pulled back the bedding. They had made love here, one last time before she had put on her armour. The bedding was clean, but she could still smell it. She pulled the covers over her head, like a child avoiding demons, and let it wash over her.
He is still here with me, even if he has gone...
The Children of the Ki-Rin have opted to spare their hosts too crowded a castle and have set a small camp of several yurts encircling Moto Chinua's personal Chomchog tent. On the day of their arrival, a servant of the Dragon lord gifts the Unicorn a pair of small statues. One is Bishamon, carved in wood. The other, Ebisu, forged in steel. Lord Chinua has left the pair on display in the heart of camp.
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