Isher Notra

No matter how deep and potent the anger that filled every infinitesimal space between her atoms, it was all shut down by a single ghost of her past.

Yuki-onna's breath-holding was pushed long past her limit. Yet, she couldn't command herself to let that air go. Her body was rigid, unflinching, as it finally took the time to acknowledge the insurmountable strain from the nearly endless string of combat that led her this far - a new weight to be lodged on her back as if staring at the one she failed the most wasn't enough.

Tae-fuyu shyly approached her, her wide and innocent eyes twisted by deep concern.

"What are you doing, Nonny?" Her sweet voice acted like a velvet-covered blade sinking deep into her heart. "You're scaring ne..."

The Yūrei's entire being crumbled under those words. All that air contained in her lungs escaped in a fast breeze, then was regained in a sharp inhale. For some reason, she couldn't feel the unpleasant heat coursing within her anymore.

Her legs wobbled under the pressure, ultimately forcing her to lose against the unforgiving gravity.

"Ny daughter..." On her knees, Yuki-onna couldn't bring herself to hold her breath or conjure her voice telepathically. "I did this for you... Everything..."

After centuries of silence, re-adapting to the Yūrei way of speaking was challenging. Her tongue had lost much of its muscle memory.

Nonetheless, for Tae-fuyu, it was more than worth it.

The background around them changed as the seconds went by. The pink and purple dulled and twisted into an unrecognizable mess until all the colors collapsed into a peerless void.

The world was reduced to her and her daughter. Fitting, if she had a say on this.

"You're so sad, Nonny..." Her darling had finally reached her, gently cupping her face with her adorably small, dainty hands, emanating a distinguished warmth pulled straight from her memories. "Stay with ne, tlease..."

The twin rivers across the sorceress's cheeks wouldn't stop flowing.

"D-Dut..." Her bony fingers reached out and wrapped over her daughter's. "The Hunan, she-"

"Forget adout Isanu, Nonny..." Tae-fuyu insisted, her eyes sparkling with infectious hope. "He's not here to hurt us. I won't leave you again."

Yuki-onna's globes dared to shift away from her little miracle, glimpsing not a void anymore, but an exact replica of her old home, constructed on the tallest snowy peaks of the east side of the world, right after her husband's assassination by the hands of a rival.

The sorceress never had strong feelings for her late spouse, whom she was forced to marry by her parents for political prestige. The happiest she had ever been with him was when Kagi-hige officiated their marriage and Hari-onagu stood by her as her maid of honor. By the time she entered labor, he had long departed the living plane.

Nevertheless, she would always be grateful to him for the genetic material to bring forth such an angel. As soon as she regained her strength, Yuki-onna retreated somewhere more secluded in fear that her husband's rival would perpetuate his rage through them.

This minka was built from real materials, with the help of Hari-onagu and Kagi-hige, who insisted that it was the best choice for the child, rather than her ice. Yuki would never question his judgment, respecting him more as a father figure than the ones with actual biological ties to her.

The paper walls allowed the faintest light to come through, unshrouding the wooden beams and sliding doors. Even so, the primary source of illumination came from the fire of the hearth at the center, brewing the fresh and grassy smell of matcha that blessed most of their mornings.

"We can de a fanily again. We and Auntie Hari.

...

How to bring the news to Tae about her "aunt?" Hari-onagu abandoned their mission to bring justice to her and the many Monoke children inhabiting Sayama, swayed by the same facade that Yuki had fallen for long ago. How grimly ironic.

How to tell this poor child the harsh reality at hand? They could never form the same family again. The sorceress would never forgive Hari. Kagi-hige has perished in the war a few years after Tae's-

......

Death.

Tae-fuyu died. Her head was almost surgically removed from her neck by Isamu's blade. Her blood besmirched the floorboards and dripped onto the doma. Yuki-onna remembered vividly how her mind desperately clung to any other possibility than what her eyes displayed. Illusions, mind control, a bad dream, a divine miracle that would happen at any second, restoring life into the deceased child...

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

There was no trickery involved. Tae-fuyu was murdered by the one Yuki trusted most. Heart-wrenchingly plain and straightforward.

.........

Now, the visage before her, however, was the polar opposite.

"Ny niracle..." She reached out for the illusion's cheek. No resistance was felt as her palm pressed against her skin.

Inside her head, the heat was gradually rising. Bit by bit, the inconsistencies in this nostalgic area were exposed - points where reality unnaturally undulated and contorted, becoming more foggy the longer she stared and understood it.

"Nonny?" One more word, one more attempt of the Dream Mist to drag her into blissful submission.

Yuki-onna closed her eyes, standing up in defiance as her Saniya coursed and pulsated within her body, chasing the Baku's to cleanse it once and for all.

...Or so, she hoped, if a terrifying revelation didn't crumble her very core. As her awareness grew, so did the knowledge of the Dream Mist spreading through her veins like a wildfire. A rivaling river of Saniya threatened to drown her, crushing her rebellion in mere seconds.

Unless...

"Nonny, please! It's-"

"SILENCE!" Yuki-onna cried, clenching her temples while she felt her grip on reality slipping by the moment. If she allowed herself to hear too many words from this pleasant delusion, she could never escape. Her heart craved surrender more intensely by the second.

She was painfully aware that counting on her regular Saniya reserves wouldn't bring her the expected result. Instead, she would have to resort to everything, down to the smallest piece of power, she held up her sleeve.

She allowed her eyes to open ever so slightly, her vision narrowing to her scarred palm, a detail rendered utterly useless by recent events.

Yet, to escape this trap, she'd need to repeat this agony all over again.

The fake Tae-fuyu pulled her sleeve.

"What are you doing?" she implored.

As verisimilar as this act was, down to how the fabric stretched and molded between the young Yūrei's tiny fingers, Yuki-onna's gaze broke from this charade as she conjured a pristine ice kunai in the other hand.

"Honoring you," she answered with quiet resolve, hovering the frigid blade over her palm.

In a swift motion, Yuki-onna tore apart her own flesh. The blossoming pain and gushing ichor, warm and brimming with vigor, formed a fine red line connecting her consciousness and reality.

She allowed her mouth to vocalize the depths of her agony, both physical and emotional, for the cruel bastards waiting for her beyond the illusion fog to understand precisely the level of misfortune they had wrought for themselves.

"This is it, Gentō! Was THIS what you've searched for?!"

The kunai was dissolved. The crimson liquid flowed against gravity, uniting as one orb between both Yuki's palms.

"Have you intended to satirize ny tast?! Or was this just an accident?!"

The twin, crimson kunai, which she left on the floor without realizing, rotated around the bloody blob like moons to a planet. That was, until the globe started to ravenously swallow its neighbors, increasing its size and mass.

"It natters not! Your fate is already sealed!"

She sank her fingers into the orb, clenching and pulling out a circular piece, connected by liquid chains that quickly solidified as they came in contact with the ever-freezing air. Once they reached their full length, Yuki-onna concentrated her efforts around what remained of the shapeless blood, still connected by the crimson link. This quality was gradually rectified when it assumed the form of a sickle, its blade smooth and reflective like freshly forged metal at the hands of a master smith.

In each hand, she carried the heavy blood weight and the sickle end of her makeshift kusarigama, every inch of it pulsating hot with the energy of her stored Saniya, an antithesis to the frozen nature of the weapon's genesis.

In a dramatic flair, she used the weight of her entire body as she rotated the blunt end one time, pouring a piece of her energy to push away the Dream Mist. Again and again, every time she completed a full rotation, her momentum fastened, and so did the vortex she generated. Her eyes closed as she spun around herself, allowing the fabrication around her to meet its desirable end.

...At least, that was what she tried to desperately convince herself.

Her eyes couldn't fight the sweet temptation, opening occasionally as a sign of her conflicted psyche. She glimpsed the image of her daughter, dejected and desecrated by the unforgiving winds, dissolving her into a cloud of sparkly fog.

Once "Tae-fuyu" was out of sight, Yuki-onna allowed her rage to seep further, to consume her every swing, to stoke the bursting Saniya, begging to be pointed at and demolish every single fool that dared put her in this misery!

"Yes! Yes! YES!" She screamed the last word with the intoxicating vigor of letting go of all inhibitions. There was no more hesitation, no more attempts at appealing to lost causes.

Yuki-onna was one with herself. It was all that mattered.

As her body moved in a blur and her eardrums quivered under the terminal velocity of this tornado of her own making, the sorceress suddenly halted like her momentum was nothing. And then, she spread her arms apart, pushing the full length of the blood chains she firmly gripped as she compelled all that air to expand as far away as feasible!

The shockwave threatened to tear apart even its creator's bones. Yet, she remained strong through this brief moment of absolute destruction. Her eyes acclimated to the expanding darkness of the night, a reminder of the fascinating duration she had managed to take an entire province hostage.

Luckily, she'd manage to snuff out the little brat's life before an entire day had passed.

Although she couldn't see any of the trio skulking around her surroundings, Yuki knew they weren't far.

As much as she loathed Stella with everything she had, she could not deny the blazing resolve within the little devil's eyes. She'd be here once more. Whether she escaped the tornado by digging or was pushed away by it was irrelevant.

Yuki-onna took the respite to look deep into herself. More specifically, her Saniya reserves.

Her regular tank had the slightest sliver left. Her kusarigama was filled to the brim with considerable amounts of energy. Enough for one large-scale spell, if she absorbed it.

That would be enough. And if not...

...

It was risky to pull more from her blood. Nevertheless, this was never about her own self-preservation.

What worth had her own life over the sake of all Monokekind?

What worth could it have... over her thirst for retribution?

Over... the thrill and pleasure she hasn't felt for centuries, brought by Human life slipping away by her own, frigid hands.

......

A few branches have moved unnaturally over the horizon.

The sorceress grinned with the promise of more. Pushed by the wind, they were.