Grouse Thicket 腐敗 ogamu-juku

she thought she would know the face of her brothers anywhere, but this shape that materialized did not hold the cherry-eyed gaze of kikyo, did not walk with an iron-hewn body like tsujiya; their voice was honeyed more like morohe — but those eyes, too, were warm. too warm.

satsu's eyes dropped from the sight of the kami. she knew better than to look directly at it.

i miss my father's orchards. satsu laments.
i miss kikyo and his sour breath, and how big his laughter grew, when he would sneak a taste of the harvest.

it stung to think of them all. in this place, kikyo's memory was the strongest. satsu could only hope that the kami did not come with malice in mind, summoned by her grief.