Chapter Text
Sakura’s earliest memories are faded, blurry. She can remember being nothing, a nameless, formless spirit barely even worth a passing thought. All she did was drift, never stopping and never thinking.
She remembers a small clearing with a cherry tree, majestic in its hundred years of age. She remembers a connection, a bond, an overwhelming feeling of coming home and feeling safe in her own skin.
She knows herself as insubstantial and invisible, right until she isn't. Suddenly, she can feel the biting wind ruffling her (short?) hair, the grass under her feet, and the thrum in her chest.
The world is brighter somehow, warm and heavy on her skin despite the chill winter air. Something white flutters by her face, and she looks up to see the tree unfold. The dark, bare, spindly branches are pushing out pale buds, blooming in a matter of slow, meaningful minutes.
The fact that she's changed doesn’t sink in until long after the cherry blossoms are gone. The flowers disappear as quickly as they came, melting into tiny pinpricks of soft light then vanishing into the dusk. The change had happened so quickly, and her new, wobbly legs collapse under her.
She leans her head back against the trunk of the tree, trying to parse the sudden influx of sensations and feelings.
First is touch, the sensation of dragging her hand over bark and feeling the rough, solid presence pushing back against her own. It's the ghost of fallen flowers nesting on her bare arms, the white dress (when did she get a kimono?) tickling her ankles, the dip and curve of her face and shoulders and neck.
Second is instinct, the polar opposite of a sharp, animalistic drive. It’s not unlike a slow, ponderous river, threading its way into her fingers and core. The tree has had a century to spread its roots far and wide, and she knows every twist and turn deep beneath the surface. She feels, rather than sees, every delicate blossom fall. It doesn't hurt, but there's a small, almost unnoticeable nudge of loss every time a bud winks out.
She- for the tree hadn't deigned to give her a name, just a body and a life force- exists now, in an entirely new way that she had never dreamed of before. A dark bird wheels overhead in the dawning winter sky, calling out a mournful ki-ki-ki.
She goes exploring early next day, inexplicably drawn to the older, darker parts of the forest. On she goes, one tree’s roots to the next, until she’s standing next to the largest trunk she’s ever seen in her entire life. The air is so saturated with spiritual power that it hums; a low, nascent rumble rebounding from her chest to the wind then back again.
She sits there for a long time, soaking in the ancient energy and peace. She doesn’t even notice when two spirits enter the clearing, nor when they share an amused glance.
“It’s dangerous to be here, little tree. You could die, if you aren’t careful.”
“Oi, Izumo, don’t scare the kodama! Look at her, so small and fluffy.”
She blinks herself back into the real world, opening her eyes to find the two spirits crouched in front of her. They’re both wearing traditional dark kimono, although one one has elaborately patterned furisode sleeves and the other has equally detailed split hakama tied over his obi.
The spirit with the blue furisode grunts and shifts from his crouch to sit more comfortably on the forest floor. He shakes spiky hair out of his eyes before peering closely at her.
“I’m Hagane Kotetsu, and the grumpy pants over there is Kamizuki Izumo. Don’t let his face fool you, he’s just worried.”
“It’s not everyday that we get new spirits coming in, Kotetsu. It would be a shame if we lost another so soon,” says Izumo, joining his partner in sitting cross-legged on the dirt. He lets his shoulder-length hair hang over the left side of his face, propping his chin in his hand.
It takes her an embarrassing amount of time to respond. “It’s nice to meet you, Hagane-san, Kamizuki-san. I-er…”
Izumo notices her hesitation first, nodding gently. “Your tree didn’t give you a name, right? Do you know who you are?”
“Who… I am?”
“Yep! A spirit’s identity is kinda vague, but do you have any burning desires, emotions, or in your case, memories?” pipes Kotetsu, gesturing with broad fingers.
She shakes her head. “Drifting. I remember drifting, for a very, very long time.”
“That’s good, then. Blank spirits tend to live longer after becoming a kodama.” Izumo pats the gnarled root poking up from the dirt beside him. “That’s what you are, by the way. Your life force bonded with a tree that reached one hundred years of age.”
Kotetsu nods thoughtfully. “You’ll always be connected with your tree. Any injury inflicted on the tree will affect you, and vice versa. You can become one with your tree, but you also have a corporeal body. You can go anywhere in this forest, but you will need an anchor if you wish to travel outside.”
She looks at her hands, flexing her pale fingers into fists. “But when do I get a name?”
“You can choose your name, or be named. Ideally, the name should reflect who you are, or at least have some sort of value. It keeps you from forgetting yourself or fading, but we can let you borrow a name for now.” Izumo looks at Kotetsu, who snaps his fingers.
“Aha! How about Ki? Means tree, after all. You can’t get any more impersonal that that, so replacing it won’t cause a problem.”
She remembers a vision of dappled sunlight filtering between dark leaves and pale petals, the lonely echo of a ki-ki-ki. Something clicks, settling deep in her bones.
“Thank you, Hagane-san, Kamizuki-san,” says Ki, getting up and bowing deeply.
Kotetsu looks vaguely embarrassed, but Izumo chuckles and rises to his feet as well. The top of her head only reaches to his chest, and he leans over to ruffle her hair.
“We should really go somewhere else to talk, though. You’re in less danger now that you have a name, but you shouldn’t spend too much time in heavily spiritual areas like these. Stronger and more experienced spirits than you have been pulled into the current.”
Ki spends the entire day with Kotetsu and Izumo. She learns about the forest she resides in, famous for its ability to protect itself. Kotetsu and Izumo are gatekeepers of a sort, roaming through the forest and sorting out any issues. They’re not the oldest creatures in the forest, but they do go back much further than a simple hundred years.
The duo take her on one of their daily patrols, teaching her about anything and everything in their path in hopes that it may one day be useful. Instead of a linear narrative, they talk about the most likely odds and ends; how to leave offerings at shrines, the proper way to address any given spirit, how to recognize and draw simple barrier seals.
Even after their patrols are over, Kotetsu and Izumo walk with her and talk about the types of spirits they’ve come across.
“We’re ashinaga-tenaga. You won’t see very many of us, but they aren’t to be taken lightly.”
“Ashinaga-tenaga? What’s that?” Ki slurs, tracing the intricate waves on Kotetsu’s sleeve from atop his back. It had been a long day, and she still isn’t used to her new body.
“Hm. It’s hard to say, but we’re a pair of spirits; one blessed with long arms, the other with long legs,” says Izumo, lazily flapping a hand at his green hakama.
She frowns, poking at the arm keeping her steady on his shoulders. Ki can feel Kotetsu’s chuckles through her legs wrapped around his chest. He flexes one arm for her, and she shrieks in joy over the muscles bunching up in his shoulder and bicep.
“Well, we don’t have uber-long arms or legs, but there’s strength in them. Not all legends are true, of course, but there’s always a grain of sand. You know, like pearls with the many layers of bullshit covering a tiny bit of solid rock.”
“Language, Kotetsu. And it’s ‘grain of salt,’ not sand.”
Ki’s snort turns into helpless giggles, which turns into a yawn. Both Kotetsu and Izumo stop in unison to stare at her nodding off against Kotetsu’s head.
“Crap, you’re like, a week old, right? Sheesh, you’re frail. Izumo, how old is she?”
“It’s closer to two days, so language. It’s probably the first time she’s been so far away from her tree,” says Izumo, reaching out with a bamboo-patterned leg to swipe at Kotetsu’s shin.
“Ow, quit it!” Kotetsu settles Ki more securely on his back. “Hey, Ki-chan? I know you’re tired, but where’s your tree?”
“Mmhm. It’s by-” she’s rudely interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn, tears beading in the corners of her eyes, “by the reaaaaally huge rock. It’s got a big nose, and sparkly bits.”
Kotetsu throws a concerned look at Izumo, who shrugs.
“Got it, Ki-chan. We’ll take you home now.”
They don’t get a reply, because she’s already unconscious.
Ki wakes up the next morning with the sun throwing a beam of light directly in her face, and a shrill chirping in her ear. She’s too groggy to do more than glare at the sparrow perched on her shoulder. With much difficulty, she manages to sit upright, blearily watching the sparrow wing its way up into the branches of a- no, her, tree.
Her clenched hand twitches around something something dry and leathery, and unfurling her fingers greets her with a leaf. It’s still relatively fresh, and she shakes her hands to get rid of the tingle from it stealing her energy. She squints at it, tracing her finger over the dark ink that stands out against the red.
It takes a while, but her mind finally jolts awake. She blinks and the dark squiggles jump, their meanings leaping out at her.
Sorry we had you stay out so late, Ki-chan! You probably still have questions, so you can summon us by ripping up this message. Give us a call any time, but it may take a day or two, depending on how far away we are. Good luck on your own for now!
-Izumo and Kotetsu
P.S. If this isn’t your tree, we’re really sorry.
Ki smiles down at the letter, noting the clear tone shifts where Kotetsu had switched out with Izumo. She doesn’t want to call them so soon, but it feels nice to have them within reach.
Briefly, she wishes her dress had pockets. She gets up to look around for some sort of pouch or satchel, but when she looks back down at her hands the leaf and its precious message is gone.
A hot, prickling wave of worry crashes over her, because she can't feel comforting presence of Izumo and Kotetsu’s writing anywhere.
A frantic glance at the grass around his er doesn't yield any results, nor does staring imploringly at her tree.
Squeezing her eyes shut in desperation, she balls her fists and visualizes the leaf in her hands. Slowly easing her eyes open, she curls her hands flat and gawks at the red leaf sitting innocently in her palms.
What.
Staring intently at the leaf, she thinks very hesitantly about pockets. Nothing happens, and she tries again.
She runs out of things to think at the leaf, and stands up out of frustration. Pacing around the tree’s trunk, she resorts to shouting random phrases she vaguely remembers hearing.
“Open sesame!”
“Begone, filth!”
“Springtime of YOUTH!"
The sparrow still perched in her tree eyes her with suspicion. Ki flushes, and looks accusingly down at the leaf.
“Oh, won't you just disappear already?”
The leaf melts into her palms, and she sits down with a thump . She concentrates so hard on her hands that she almost sees red, and the leaf surfaces from her skin.
“Cool.”
She spends the next few minutes making the leaf fade in and out of her hands, marveling at the sensation. The sparrow flutters off, thoroughly spooked by the glint in her eyes.
The sun touches down on the horizon and Ki’s finally ready. She takes a deep breath, whispers an apology to the leaf under her breath, and tears. The ink fades away once the two halves of the leaf fully separate, and she can only hope that it works.
Half an hour crawls by, until she feels two presences step onto her roots.
“Izumo-san! Kotetsu-san!”
“Hey there, Ki-chan. How’d you like our message?” Izumo squats down to her height, gesturing to the pieces of leaf still clutched in her hand.
Ki beams, holding out her hands palm up. “Look!”
Kotetsu whistles when she shows them the leaf sinking in and out of her skin. “Man, I knew you were smart, but spiritual manipulation already? This must be a record.”
Ki’s eyes glaze over. “Spiritual manip’lation?”
“Anything that exists has energy, spiritual and physical. Spiritual energy affects outside elements, such as fire and water. Physical energy affects the body, such as augmenting strength and healing. Spirits have a higher ratio of spiritual energy, which allows us to convert items into their spiritual forms, and store them in our bodies.” Izumo reaches into his palm and pulls out a thick chain, letting it dangle from his fingers before slipping it back.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that in theory, but that’s the gist. Come to think of it, our message was also done with spiritual energy. Neat, huh?” Kotetsu leans on his partner’s shoulders, flashing Ki a similar chain with a flourish of his fingers.
“Very,” Ki breathes.
“We can teach you it later, when the sun’s up. Why’d you call us so late, anyway?” asks Kotetsu, still playing with his chain.
“Can we go into the woods again?”
Izumo blinks. “Sure, but why at night? It could be dangerous, you know.”
“‘Cause I was too scared to do it alone, but I wanna go and see. You said it was different at night, ‘member?” she says, pouting.
Kotetsu laughs and the chain disappears into his hands. Pulling Izumo up, he smiles toothily. “You’re a spitfire, huh? Yeah, we can take you out into the woods. You sure you up to it?”
She puffs out her chest, strangely pleased with the way Kotetsu’s voice rumbles out the last few words. It’s a dare-but-not-quite, making something deep inside her want to rise up to the challenge. The smile that Izumo sends her in return makes her shiver, like an uncle looking at a niece for the first time and seeing something worth acknowledging as family.
Ki’s earliest memories were always the same; bleak, disoriented, and lonely. Kotetsu and Izumo’s easy acceptance of her lights a small curl of fierce warmth in her heart. She’s never really felt anything other than empty before, but she cradles this new protectiveness in her chest, feeding the flame.
Following Kotetsu and Izumo out of the clearing and into the dark is the most natural thing she’s ever done, and each step settles another piece of her strange new world into place.
Despite the wintry night air and the lack of sleeves on her dress, Ki is anything but cold. She walks along, sandwiched between Izumo on her left and Kotetsu on her right. A hexagonal cage made of thin, tarnished chains hovers slightly in front of Izumo’s head. The ball of energy burning within throws flickering tongues of light out into the woods, illuminating the immediate surroundings with a soft halo.
The waning moon shines between the spindly arms of bare branches, but Ki’s eyes are too weak to pick out any stray roots or tripping hazards. The lantern’s glow makes her feel uneasy, but there is nothing she can do about it.
“Sorry about the fire, Ki-chan, but your yang control isn't developed enough to focus in your eyes yet. Wouldn't want to damage those pretty greens, you know?”
Ki nods glumly, but perks up. “My eyes are green?”
Izumo snorts. “They’re as green as grass. Your hair is pink, too. It's quite fitting for a cherry tree spirit, but I can't say I've seen any other kodama with such outrageous coloring.”
“Pink? Wait, really?” Ki tugs a lock of hair down and cranes her eyes up as far as they can go. She barely spots a small smudge of soft pink between her fingers.
She grins, Izumo chuckles, Kotetsu ruffles her (pink!) hair. And they go on.
Ki soon finds out that the forest at night is a lot like the forest in the morning. There are still creatures wandering about, the nighttime spirits taking the place of those who prefer daylight.
It's also much cooler, because the spirits of the night are different. Not in a good way, not in a bad way, they just are. Eyes peer out at her from in between the trees and the shadows and the beyond.
As the moon rises higher in the sky, the nightlife starts to wake up. The rustles, swishes, and things that go bump in the night are muted, soft with the intention of being heard and forgotten.
It feels peaceful, even more so without the sun trying to bury its light under her skin. It's vulnerable, because the pale moonlight hides more than it reveals, covering her in a veil that whispers a twisted golden rule into her head. You can do anything and be forgiven, but the same may happen unto you.
Izumo and Kotetsu let her walk in silence. They only stop her when the cotton in her head grows too thick, tapping her shoulder or nudging her side.
All is well for about two hours, when something in the air ripples, and Ki stumbles. A furry mass leaps out of the underbrush and slams into Kotetsu, who’s already spinning to the side to throw it off.
The intruder turns out to be a massive snarling dog spirit, with black fur and gleaming yellow eyes. It lands hard at the base of a tree, and Izumo takes the moment to hoist Ki onto a tree branch.
“Okuri-inu,” Izumo hisses, looping a length of chain around her wrist and anchoring his lantern to her. He takes a moment to pat her hand reassuringly, but his eyes are flat.
The dog recovers quickly, but by then Kotetsu is up and Izumo is at his side. The dog rushes at them again, its paws slamming into the ground and kicking up grass.
It heads for Kotetsu again, but Izumo crouches low on his hands and kicks out at its front legs. The dog hurdles over Izumo, but Kotetsu cocks back a fist and punches it in the throat.
The creature goes flying and hits a tree trunk with a sick crack. It drops to the floor and stays still, but the noise attracts several other pairs of yellow eyes that circle around them.
The next few minutes are a whirlwind of action as Kotetsu and Izumo completely decimate the pack of dogs. No matter how hard she tries, Ki can only see a blur of blue sleeves and green legs and black fur. It’s terrifyingly beautiful; the air is filled with snarling and barking and harsh battlecries. The entire fight is over with one last snap of Izumo’s sandals against a dog’s teeth.
Ki doesn’t hesitate when Izumo raises his arms to her, a strange mixture of worry and shame in his eyes. She slides off the branch without a second thought, uncaring of the dark blood on his hakama or the stray tooth embedded in his arm. The lantern floats down slowly after her.
Izumo gingerly sets her on the ground, between two fallen dog spirits. Kotetsu comes back to Izumo’s side and bends down, wiping his bloodied fists on a dog’s fur.
They’re both uncharacteristically silent. Izumo can’t look her in the eye, and Kotetsu’s perpetual smile is gone. The bodies on the ground don’t stir, the stars wheel overhead, and the moon croons a gentle melody in Ki’s ear. The quiet stretches on for what seems like an eternity, and something deep inside makes a decision for her.
“Teach me.”
Kotetsu barks out an incredulous laugh, staring at her with the weight of a thousand past mistakes. Izumo makes an aborted movement with his hands; he tries to reach out at her, but his hands falter midway and drop to his sides.
“What.” Ki’s not sure about who said it, but the word hangs there in the open. It’s sharp and low, and it doesn’t make an effort to cover up the edge of discomfiture.
“Teach me to fight.” Ki’s never felt anything so strongly in her admittedly short life, but nothing else feels as important in this moment. She knows that the bodies on the forest floor will never move again. She knows that Izumo and Kotetsu did it for her.
If it was born of anger or surprise or self-defence, she doesn’t know. (and she doesn’t particularly care, either.) The entire incident doesn’t phase her in the way she suspects that it should, that Kotetsu and Izumo thinks it should.
Ki meets Kotetsu’s eyes for one minute, two minutes, three, and he exhales shakily. Sliding her gaze over to Izumo, she watches as something in him breaks, only to be built up more strongly than before.
The moon sings to her again, and she knows without a shred of uncertainty that she would do for them what Izumo and Kotetsu have for her. (she'll have to, you see, and everything will be-)
“Okay.”
The trip home is quick, and she leads both Kotetsu and Izumo by the hand. Her will is a compass in her chest, pulling her to her tree.
She gets to her clearing and tugs Kotetsu and Izumo inside. She squeezes their hands, leaving a pale green sakura leaf for both of them.
“Don’t forget.”
Izumo and Kotetsu laugh, although it isn’t as full or as bright as she would like.
“You'll get stronger, Ki-chan, don’t worry,” says Kotetsu. There's a stark undercurrent of guilt that she ignores.
“We’ll be back soon, but we can leave another message with you,” says Izumo. Strangely, he looks for another leaf to use instead of hers, but Ki doesn’t comment on it either.
Izumo presses another message into her hand, and he and Kotetsu turn to leave. Ki pushes a tiny pulse of her energy into the leaf and it disappears.
“Goodnight, Kotetsu-san, Izumo-san,” Ki whispers at their backs. They don’t turn around, but Kotetsu raises one hand in a wave.
She sleeps inside her tree that night, surrounded by the comforting hum of Kotetsu and Izumo’s barrier seals being lit around the perimeter of her clearing.