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For Naraku, hiking up Konohasakuyama - or Seiraiyama, as it was more commonly called - was beneath him

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For Naraku, hiking up Konohasakuyama - or Seiraiyama, as it was more commonly called - was beneath him. But when it came to Kamijo Sayuri, even such a tall mountain wasn't too far for him.

She'd erected multiple wards to keep anyone from teleporting straight into the shrine on the mountain's peak, but if he showed up on her doorstep he doubted she'd turn him away. She was far too kind for that. Sayuri was, however, a sage, and spent most of her time meditating, so she probably wasn't even aware of his presence. Regardless, her barrier didn't activate when he tried to walk through; either she'd set it so that he was allowed, or simply everyone was.

Naraku walked through the Kamijo Shrine, down a path lined with sakura trees blooming in the eternal spring of the mountain. She sat beneath the shade largest tree on the peak, eyes closed in meditation. Her lilac kimono was made of simple materials, but it matched the unusual deep purple shade of her hair, which she'd braided before entering meditation. Strands had loosened from her plait, and her clothes were ruffled, but her skin glowed with the youth of the enlightened.

Naraku walked in front of her in slow, deliberate steps, his red eyes trained on her face. He waited for any signs that she noticed his presence.

She didn't stir.

He could kill her. No one would know, since the villagers at the foot of the mountain revered her too much to disturb her. If he wanted to, he could commit unspeakable sins to her cold corpse, things she'd be too dead to forgive or despise him for. 

But he just tapped her shoulder.

Sayuri's eyes flashed open, and he allowed himself to admire the dark violet shade for a moment. It matched with her kimono, he noticed, then remembered that she always wore some shade of the color. She'd mentioned once that purple was the color of the Kamijo Clan, offhandedly and without any real meaning behind it. She'd been busy then, but she still took the time to make conversation with him.

Naraku had known she was busy, too, but he still monopolized her time. And considering the situation they were in, perhaps nothing had changed.

For a moment, Sayuri stared at him blankly. Then she rubbed her eyes. When she still couldn't make sense of the situation, she scrambled back towards the trunk of the tree and screamed, "A BABOON?!"

"..." Naraku sighed before removing his cloak, which he'd forgotten about. "It's me, Sayuri-sama."

Sayuri blinked. "Erm.. Are you... Baboon-san?"

"Naraku," he corrected with more patience than he'd ever displayed in his life.

"Nara...ku..." Her voice trailed off. He watched as she slowly relaxed from her old position, in which she'd pressed her back against the tree and her legs were pulled up to her chest. She was probably the only person who relaxed upon hearing his name.

The thought made him feel oddly satisfied, and he gave her a charming smile. "Yes?"

"Are you..." She hesitated, then shook her head. "Never mind. Come this way, I'll make you some tea."

𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐀𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜;; 𝐒𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐮Where stories live. Discover now